The Memoirs of Admiral Lord Beresford

The question of giving leave, for example, is of essential importance, because the comfort and contentment of officers and men so largely depend upon the system employed. In the Channel Fleet, the system was to give week-end leave, from after dinner on Saturday, every week, the liberty men being due on board at seven o'clock on the following Monday morning, so that, if the Fleet were at Portland, they had only one night at home. Many of the men were therefore obliged to spend Sunday night in travelling; often, if they were not to break their leave, arriving at the port hours before they could get a boat off to their ship, and spending the interval shelterless and miserable. In the result the number of leave-breakers was usually very large.

By means of altering the system, the number was at once reduced to a fraction, such, for instance, as eight men, all of whom were accounted for. Under the new arrangement weekend leave was allowed once a month, when the liberty men of one watch left their ships on Friday after dinner instead of upon Saturday, and returned on board at noon on Monday, instead of at seven o'clock in the morning. Thus they had three nights at home once a month, instead of one night at home twice a month; and had to pay only one fare for three nights, instead of two fares for two nights. In these matters the question of expense should always be considered. Another advantage was that whereas heretofore one watch was always absent on Sundays, under the new arrangement all officers and men were on board upon two Sundays in every month.

The Navy, unlike the Army, is always on active service, and is perpetually practising in peace what it will be required to do in war. In the Navy, the only difference between peace and war is that in war the target fires back. Hence it is that the record of a command afloat consists almost entirely of incessant routine work; such as the evolutions of: clear ship for action, boats pull round Fleet, collision and grounding stations, fire stations, out fire engine, moor ship, unmoor ship, out nets, in nets, taking in tow, casting off tow, let go sheet anchor, let go stern, kedge, bower anchors, weigh and cat sheet anchor by hand, in boom boats, let go and pick up both lifebuoys at sea, coaling, flag-signalling, man and arm boats, running torpedoes, field-gun and company landing, rifle practice, etc. These are matters of course. The Fleet is constantly exercised in manoeuvres and in tactics; there is gunnery practice; and there are the periodical combined manoeuvres.

In the Fleet under my command, the drills and exercises were particularly onerous; for it was a rule never to go to sea or to steam from port to port without practising some exercise or tactical problem. For every pound's worth of coal burnt, a pound's worth of training. Officers and men delighted in these exercises; and all (including the commander-in-chief) learned something from them.

In July, 1903, the Channel Fleet assembled at Spithead to welcome the United States Squadron, consisting of the Kearsage, flag of Admiral Cotton, Chicago, San Francisco and Machias. The American officers were entertained to lunch by the Pilgrims' Society, and it fell to me to propose the United States Navy, Admiral Cotton responding. H.R.H. the Prince of Wales accepted an invitation to breakfast on board the American flagship.

In August took place the combined manoeuvres of the Channel, Home and Mediterranean Fleets; at their conclusion, the Fleets met in Lagos Bay for tactical exercises; 25 battleships, 42 cruisers, and gunboats and destroyers under the supreme command of Admiral Sir Compton E. Domville, G.C.V.O., K.C.B.

Colonel Robert M. Thompson was a welcome guest of mine at this time, and subsequently in all the ships in which I flew my flag. Colonel Thompson afterwards published some observations upon the manoeuvres in the Evening Post, U.S.A., from the point of view of an American officer who began his career in the United States Navy.

"When the three Fleets participating in those manceuvres were combined, there were 72 battleships and cruisers, with nearly 40,000 men, all under the command of one admiral; probably the strongest Fleet ever brought together in the history of the world. This enormous assemblage of vessels was handled without a single break. When the entire 72 ran to anchor in eight lines, had there been a straight-edge placed in front of them it would not have shown a ship, it seems to me, a foot out of position. They made a 'flying moor,' and when you consider that in point of time, at the speed the ships were going, they were only one minute apart, every seaman will appreciate how wonderfully they must have been handled."

Colonel Thompson very kindly presented a challenge shield for the best gun in the flagship of the Channel Fleet (afterwards Atlantic Fleet), to be inscribed with the names of the crew of the best gun at the annual gunlayers' competition; and at the same time generously placed in trust a sum of money the interest of which, amounting to £10 a year, was to be presented to the winning gun's crew. The record for the Cæsar while my flag was flown in that vessel was 18 hits out of 21 rounds in two minutes.

In September, 1903, the Fleet visited Scarborough; in pursuance of the principle that to afford the public opportunities for seeing the Fleet and for making acquaintance with the ships, arouses and maintains a healthy interest in the Service. Upon this occasion, I invited my old constituents at York to visit the Fleet. They came in thousands; but sad to say, the weather was so bad that they could not leave the shore.

When the Fleet was visiting Ireland, a certain worthy character, very well known in Kingstown, Dublin, whose chosen occupation is – or was – selling newspapers, came to me, as his countryman, on board the Majestic, to his intense excitement.

"Glory to God, Lord Char-less," he screamed, "is that yourself in the gold hat!" And he shrieked like a macaw, so that the men began to crowd on deck to see what was the matter. I had to tell him to pipe down, or they would turn the fire-engine on him.

The story of the accident to the Prince George and its repair serves to illustrate the emergencies of sea life. The Channel Fleet was engaged in manoeuvres without lights off Cape Finisterre, on the night of 17th October, 1903. Two midshipmen of the Prince George were relaxing their minds after the strain of the day's work with a hand at cards, when the game was interrupted by the entrance into the gun-room of the stem of the Hannibal, before which apparition the young gentlemen incontinently fled.

The signal instantly made by the Hannibal, "Have collided with the Prince George," was received on board the flagship at 9.41 p.m. During the next half-hour the masthead flashing lamps winked their messages back and forth; and at 10.10 the Prince George signalled that there was a large hole in her gun-room, and that the submerged flat, cockpit and steering compartment were full of water.

The actual extent of the injury, as afterwards ascertained, caused by the impact upon the port quarter of a 15,000 ton battleship travelling at about nine knots, was an indentation in the form of an inverted pyramid, the apex at the level of the protective steel deck, the base level with the upper deck, measuring 24 feet 8 inches in height, and 6 feet 6 inches across at the upper deck, and diminishing to a crack at the apex, where the ship's side had been driven in to a depth of 1 foot 4 inches, by the impact of the Hannibal. In the centre of the indentation was a triangular rift, starting from the crack at the bottom, measuring 3 feet 4 inches in height and 1 foot 6 inches in breadth at the top.

At 11 o'clock p.m. I went on board the Prince George; examined into the damage; made a general signal to the Fleet ordering all hand-pumps and 14 foot planks and plenty of wedges to be sent on board the Prince George. Under Captain F. L. Campbell, perfect discipline had been maintained; the collision mat had been placed over the injury; and the men were working cheerily with hand-pumps and baling out with buckets the water from the gun-room. The rudder was out of action, the steam-pipes being full of water. The engineer-commander had wisely shut off steam when the helm was amidships, thus avoiding the jamming of the rudder. Had the rudder jammed to starboard or to port, the difficulty of steering by the screws would have been greatly increased. The bulkheads closing in the compartments which were full of water, and all horizontal water-tight doors, were shored up with baulks of timber. But the water was still coming in, because, owing to the indentation in the side of the ship, the collision mat did not fit tightly to it.

The Fleet was ordered to proceed to Ferrol.

I sent on a boat to buoy the sunken rocks; a proceeding which aroused the suspicions of the Spanish authorities; who, however, upon learning the circumstances, were most courteous and obliging. The boat, however, was only able to get down one buoy.

The Howe had gone aground in the passage into Ferrol in 1892, and three vessels had gone aground subsequently.

Captain Campbell took the Prince George into Ferrol harbour, up the tortuous channel, which, owing to unbuoyed sunken rocks, is difficult and dangerous. Under my directions Captain Campbell steered by the screws, both screws going slow, or going astern slow with one propeller, and stopping the other, according to which way it was necessary to turn her head, and thus reducing her way if she were nearing a rock, and by this method keeping her under perfect control. At this time the ship was heavily down by the stern, drawing 25 feet 2 inches forward and 34 feet 6 inches aft. Her stern walk was flush with the water.

Immediately upon the arrival of the Prince George in Ferrol harbour (on Sunday, 18th October) divers and working parties were sent to her from all the other ships, and the Spanish Government courteously placed the resources of the dockyard at my disposal. The working parties worked day and night in three watches. On Monday, the Hogue, armoured cruiser, Captain John L. Marx, M.V.O., was placed alongside the Prince George and employed her salvage pumps.

The first thing to do was to prevent more water from coming in and to get rid of the water already in the ship. Mats were made of canvas, thrummed with blankets, and these, with collision mats cut up, and shot mats, were thrust horizontally through the holes in the ship's side and wedged up so that the ends of the mats projected inside and out; and the moisture, causing them to swell, closed up the holes. At the same time the water was being pumped out and coffer-dams were being constructed on the inside of the ship.

The coffer-dam was a stout wooden partition built round the injury in the ship side, thoroughly buttressed from within the ship with stout baulks of timber. It thus formed a chamber, which was filled up with all sorts of absorbent and other material, such as seamen's beds, blankets, rope, hammocks, pieces of collision mats, gymnasium mattresses, cushions, biscuit tins, etc. Thus the coffer-dam formed a block, part absorbent and part solid, wedged and shored over the site of the injury. In addition, the splintered wood sheathing was cut away and trimmed up, and the mouth of the submerged torpedo tube was stopped up with blankets and wedges, and sealed up with 3/16-inch steel plate bolted to the ship's side.

The extent of the injury may be exemplified by the amount of stuff used for filling up the coffer-dams and for stopping the leaks, which was: 10 shot hole stopper mats; two collision mats 15 feet by 15 feet; 350 seamen's hammocks, nine boats' covers, 14 coat-shoot covers, eight steaming covers, 11 coaling screens, 1500 yards of deckcloth, 23 shot-hole stopper mats cut into pieces, 57 blankets, one cwt. of oakum and cotton waste, and about 1000 wooden wedges, etc. etc. Over 145 tons of ammunition and stores were shifted in order to trim the ship.

The divers and carpenters of the Fleet worked continually in three watches from 3 p.m. on Sunday, 18th of October, till 6 a.m. on Friday, 23rd of October. There were employed: 24 engine-room artificers, 24 stokers, 88 carpenter ratings, 43 divers and attendants. The majority of the divers and carpenters were working in three watches for the whole time; that is, from 30 to 40 working hours each. From the time stated, a period of in hours, 178 men were employed for various periods. The total "men-hours" amounted to 3898, of which 3219 were done by 27 divers and 60 carpenters. Two engineer sub-lieutenants from other vessels of the Fleet assisted the engineer staff of the ship.

At the completion of the repairs the Prince George, leaving Ferrol on 24th October, proceeded to Portsmouth escorted by the Sutlej. Although the weather was rough, the total amount of water shipped by the Prince George during the voyage was one gallon; a proof of the excellent work done by the artificers.

The repairs were carried out in six days altogether; the carpenters of the Fleet being under Mr. Lavers, chief carpenter of Majestic, and the divers of the Fleet under Mr. Manners, gunner of Majestic. The total cost of the stores purchased at Ferrol was £116, 2s. 4d. The whole incident is an example, but one of many, of the ability of the Fleet to execute its own repairs.

In the following year, the officers and men of the Majestic turned over to the Cæsar, in which ship my flag was hoisted on 2nd February, 1904, and in which it was flown during the remainder of the commission.

His Majesty the Emperor of Germany visited Gibraltar in March, in the s.s. König Albert, escorted by H.I.M. cruiser Friedrich Karl. His Majesty hoisted his flag as Honorary Admiral in the Royal Navy in the Cæsar. On the 20th, his Majesty honouring me with his presence at dinner in the Cæsar, the boats of the Fleet were lined on either side of the passage between the König Albert and the Cæsar; and when the Emperor proceeded between the lines, every boat burned a blue light, all oars were tossed, blades fore and aft, in perfect silence, the midshipmen conveying their orders by signs. After dinner, when it fell to me to propose his Majesty's health, and I stood up, glass in hand, as I said the words "Emperor of Germany," a rocket went up from the deck above, and at the signal every ship in the Fleet fired a Royal Salute.

As the Emperor was leaving that night, the German flag and the Union Jack were hoisted on the Rock, half the search-lights of the Fleet being turned on the one flag, and half on the other. Precisely as the König Albert passed between the ends of the breakwaters, two stands of a thousand rockets, each stand placed upon the end of a breakwater, were ignited and rushing upwards, met in a triumphal arch of fire high over the mast-heads of the Emperor's ship.

In the following October (1904) occurred one of those sudden and unforeseen emergencies which test alike the readiness of the Fleet and the temper of the nation. The Fleet was ready, and the nation lost its temper.

The Russo-Japanese war was then waging. The Channel Fleet, which had been coaling, left Portland at midday on 17th October for Gibraltar. On the 21st, the Fleet left Lagos. On the same day, just before midnight, the Russian Baltic Fleet, commanded by Admiral Rojdesvenski, who believed that his Fleet was about to be attacked by Japanese torpedo-boats, fired upon the British Gamecock Trawling Fleet in the vicinity of the Dogger Bank, in the North Sea. The steam trawler Crane was sunk, her captain and third hand were killed, and the Russian Fleet proceeded upon its course. Of these things we in the Channel Fleet were of course ignorant. The next day, the Channel Fleet was exercised in running torpedoes, and a torpedo attack for exercise upon Gibraltar was arranged for the night of the 23rd-24th.

In the meantime, the news of the North Sea incident had run about the world; democracy in England wanted war; and the occurrence of highly strained relations between Great Britain and Russia coinciding with the arrival of the Channel Fleet at Gibraltar, upon which the torpedo-boats were innocently making a night attack, might have resulted in their being mistaken for a real enemy. Fortunately no such catastrophe occurred. At seven o'clock upon the morning of the 24th, the Fleet was anchored in the harbour of Gibraltar; I learned the news; received my instructions by telegram, and made my dispositions.

On that day, peace and war hung in the balance. The Home, Channel and Mediterranean Fleets were instructed to act in concert, a detachment of the Mediterranean Fleet being ordered to reinforce the Channel Fleet at Gibraltar. The Russian Baltic Fleet was then proceeding to Vigo, a detachment of it being already at Tangier. On the following day (25th October) King Edward received a message from the Czar expressing the profound regret of his Imperial Majesty. It is a matter of history how the negotiations proceeded until an amicable settlement was arranged. The uncertainty, however, lasted until the 7th November.

It is a subject for thankfulness that there was no engagement. The Russian ships were so loaded with coal and stores that their upper-deck guns could not have been worked, and a fight would have been murder. Nor would war have been justified. The popular indignation was due to a misunderstanding, and the misunderstanding arose because the Russian admiral did not proceed to the nearest British port and explain the circumstances. If he believed that the Fleet was about to be attacked by torpedo craft, he was right to fire upon what he thought was the enemy, nor could he risk the time required to exchange recognition signals.

The result of the Russian admiral's mistake was to kindle a sudden resentment in this country which as nearly as possible forced a war between the two nations. It is one of the dangers inherent in the nature of democracy in all countries, that while democracy dislikes and hinders organisation and preparation for war, the moment that its vanity or self-respect is injured, democracy wants to fight. It is the impulse of the mob. The North Sea incident was one example of this disastrous tendency; the Spanish-American war was another.

But had war been most unfortunately declared by Great Britain in October, 1904, the Navy would have been quite ready. All it had to do was to proceed to the scene of operations. In this respect, it owns an advantage over the Army, because the Navy is always on active service, and does nothing in war which it is not doing every day in peace; if it is not fighting an enemy, it is fighting the elements; and whether in peace or in war, it goes to dinner at the same time. The Army, on the other hand, must do in war what it cannot do in peace; it changes from one condition to quite another; and the transition stage involves immense organisation, expense and discomfort.

In December, 1904, owing to the redistribution of the Fleet, the Channel Fleet became the Atlantic Fleet, which was under my command until the 5th March, 1905, when I hauled down my flag.

CHAPTER LI

BOAT RACING

The enthusiasm which I have always felt for the noble sport of rowing induced me, while in command of the Undaunted, to publish some notes on the subject of men-of-war pulling races, and how to win them, the substance of which is here reproduced, in the hope that they may still prove of use in the Service.

One of the results of steam and machinery having succeeded masts, yards and canvas in a man-of-war was the creation of greater interest in pulling races. The regattas held in different fleets and squadrons had become yearly events keenly looked forward to by both officers and men. This was very desirable, not only for the sake of the exercise which it encouraged (physical exercise of an arduous character being in a measure lost to the Service since the necessity for masts and yards had been so diminished) but, for the well-being and good feeling which healthful exercise invariably produces. Committees were formed, rules and regulations were laid down in a clear and business-like manner, and sums of money were given in prizes; which sums amounted on the Mediterranean Station to about £200 – £50 or £60 being given by the Malta Canteen, and the remainder being raised by subscription among the officers of the fleet.

Man-of-war boats, being built for fighting and weight carrying are different from boats built for racing purposes on fresh water; but the prize will generally be gained by the crew of the man-of-war boat which has carefully and consistently followed the fundamental principles upon which races pulled in racing boats on fresh water are won.

From the time the boat's crew is selected, until her stem has passed the winning-post, no detail which may add to the chance of a boat winning should be omitted, no matter how small it may appear.

In selecting a boat's crew, endeavour should be made to have the men near about the same height, in order to enable them all to take the same length of stroke with ease to themselves and to make their effort at the same moment. There should be no great disparity in their weights. The men all round should be a fairly level lot, which will make it easier for them to train as a whole. A crew resembles a chain, in that a crew is no stronger than its weakest man, just as a chain is no stronger than its weakest link. If a weak or an untrained man be placed in a boat, he will, soon after the start, throw extra work on the others. An indifferent crew of twelve men trained alike as to condition, length of stroke, and pulling accurately together, provided the boats are equal, will surely win a long race against a crew composed of ten vastly superior and two indifferently trained men. Similarly, a heavy boat with an indifferently sized crew, well trained, will undoubtedly beat a magnificent crew in a good boat, untrained.

A rule should be strictly enforced that individual members of one crew are not to be trained or to pull with another crew. It is very much the habit at men-of-war regattas to encourage the best oars in a ship to pull in two or three (sometimes in four or five) races. This practice is much to be deprecated, not only in the interest of the man himself, but in the interest of boat racing. If a man who pulls in several boats be laid up, he probably jeopardises the chances of winning several races.

The selection of a coxswain is a most important element in getting a crew together. He should be a man of a certain seniority, who commands attention, perfectly cool and collected, of good nerve and determination. Coxswains defective in these qualities have lost many races, and coxswains possessing them have just pulled off many races. The training of the crew must as a rule depend entirely on the coxswain. For a 12-oared boat he should always, in order to provide for contingencies, train at least two more men than the number required in the race.

For smaller boats he should always arrange to train more men than the actual crew; many races have been lost owing to this detail having been neglected, and one of the crew having broken down in his training just before the race.

After the crew is selected, the coxswain with their help and assistance should draw up certain rules in order to ensure constant and regular practice, as well as to avoid those hindrances to training to be found after frequent visits to the canteen. One or two men taking a glass of beer too much during training has indirectly been the cause of many a race being lost, owing to the loss of practice to the crew as a whole, and to the disturbance of that harmony which must exist if a boat's crew is to be thoroughly trained.

Whether it is from his early training, or from the heavy and clumsy nature of his oars, or from the weight of the boats he has to pull, the British bluejacket, as a rule, pulls the worst oar possible to enable him to stay and pull through to the end a well-contested long race. If he be left to himself, he sits bolt upright on his thwart, beginning his stroke from that position, and apparently under the impression that the expression "Bend your back" indicates that he should bend his back forward instead of bending it aft; and totally unconscious that when he falls back towards the bow he only pulls his weight, but that when he bends forward towards the stern he pulls his strength and his weight; and he usually holds the loom of his oar with bent arms, frequently giving one or two jerks during the stroke, the last one of which may bring his oar out of the water and feather it considerably above his shoulder. He sometimes adds to these movements a rocking motion from side to side, beginning by leaning towards the middle of the boat and then throwing himself towards the boat's side. He almost invariably has his head turned on his shoulder to see what his oar is doing, and he often wears a tight belt round his stomach. All these practices are entirely wrong and are totally opposed to a common-sense method of urging a boat at speed through the water.