Dreadnought

by Robert K. Massie

  For all his fleet’s efficiency, Lord Charles could still put on a show. When the Kaiser, an honorary admiral in the Royal Navy, visited Gibraltar in March 1904, Beresford stood up at dinner to propose a toast. As the words “German Emperor” fell from his lips, a rocket soared from the deck of his flagship and every ship in the fleet fired twenty-one guns. “As the Emperor was leaving14 that night, the German flag and the Union Jack were hoisted on the Rock, half the searchlights of the Fleet being turned on one flag, and half on the other.” Later, as the Kaiser’s ship sailed out of the breakwater, two thousand rockets placed on either side of the embankment blazed upward to form a triumphal arch of fire.

  The responsibilities of the Channel Fleet, which Fisher redesignated the Atlantic Fleet in December 1904, ran from the western end of the English Channel down to the Strait of Gibraltar. During Beresford’s tour of command, the Channel Fleet almost became involved in hostilities with the Russian Baltic Fleet. This ill-fated flotilla, bound on its voyage of doom for the Strait of Tsushima, had fired on the British trawler fleet off Dogger Bank, then proceeded to the port of Vigo in Spain. The Channel Fleet was at Gibraltar. While London’s popular press demanded war and Sir John Fisher, then fulfilling his first day as First Sea Lord, met with the Cabinet, Beresford’s fleet prepared to deal with the Russians. Lord Charles did not have much stomach for the assignment: “The Russian ships were so loaded15 with coal and stores that their upper-deck guns could not have been worked and a fight would have been murder,” he explained, ever the sportsman. Beresford’s tactic, had he been ordered to engage, would have been to use only four of his eight battleships: “It appeared to me16 that this would be only chivalrous, under the circumstances. If the Russian ships had commenced to knock my ships about, I would have engaged them with the whole eight Channel Fleet battleships.” This statement did not sit well in London. “If... [Beresford’s] statement became public property,” noted the Director of Naval Intelligence, “the taxpayers would probably enquire why they were paying for the other half of the fleet.” Fisher, who did not want war to be a sporting event, was furious: “Lord Nelson’s dictum17 was ‘the greater your superiority over the enemy, the better’ and he was a chivalrous man!” Unconvinced, Beresford repeated his original claim that if he had opened fire with all his guns, it would have been “a massacre.”18 The battle never took place, because Nicholas II quickly apologized.

  It was Beresford’s curse that wherever he went, Jacky Fisher had been there before him; wherever he wanted to go, Jacky Fisher seemed to be blocking his path. In June 1905, Lord Charles went to the Mediterranean Fleet as acting Admiral and Commander-in-Chief and in 1906 he was promoted to full Admiral. His tour in command of what had been, in Fisher’s day, Britain’s primary fleet, coincided with Fisher’s naval revolution at the Admiralty. One of Fisher’s reforms was redistribution of the Fleet, bringing ships back from foreign stations in order to concentrate British naval strength in home waters. Accordingly, even as Beresford was assuming command, his fleet was being reduced in numbers and its ships transferred to the new primary force, the Channel Fleet, commanded by Sir Arthur Wilson. It was natural that Lord Charles should have been displeased; it was characteristic when he turned his exasperation into a public grudge.

  The real blow which Fisher delivered to Beresford fell on December 4, 1905. On this day, the last of the Balfour government, Admiral Sir John Fisher was promoted to Admiral of the Fleet, a rise in rank which permitted him to remain on active duty another five years, until he reached the age of seventy in January 1911. Until that moment, Beresford had expected that Fisher would be forced to step down as First Sea Lord and retire in 1906 at sixty-five, whereupon he, Lord Charles Beresford, would have had an excellent change of succeeding Fisher at the Admiralty. Immediately upon his promotion, Fisher annihilated Beresford’s hopes by announcing that he would indeed remain as First Sea Lord for another five years. Lord Charles, realizing that he now had no chance of achieving the ultimate ambition of every naval officer, reacted as if Fisher’s decision were a breach of naval etiquette directed specifically at himself. He ignored the fact that the two First Sea Lords immediately preceding Fisher had done the same thing: that is, hold on to office after being promoted to Admiral of the Fleet. Lord Charles’ frustrated rage was matched, if not exceeded, by that of his wife, who wanted her husband’s promotion to consolidate the social position which had been jeopardized by her husband’s quarrel with the King.

  Beresford revealed his vexation in a number of ways. To the First Lord he complained in March 1906, “The Service is very sore19 and irritated throughout, not so much upon what is done, as upon the way in which things are done.” The “little gentlemanly etiquettes” which have “made the Service run smoothly” now were “entirely abandoned,” he charged. He made no attempt to hide his feelings from the officers in his fleet. At dinner with a number of officers and visitors, he complained about the short-service sailors used aboard ship for unskilled tasks—passing coal and ammunition. On the morrow, he proposed, he would put some of these men on shore and march them around to demonstrate to his guests what “rotters”20 the Admiralty expected him to work with. Beresford’s remarks drew hearty laughter and great applause. Captain Reginald Bacon, a former Fisher aide devoted to the First Sea Lord, now commanding the battleship Irresistible in Beresford’s fleet, reported privately to Fisher that Lord Charles and Admiral Lambton, commanding Beresford’s cruiser division, were publicly “wailing and bemoaning”21 Fisher’s reforms. When the Mediterranean Fleet joined the royal yacht off Corfu, both the King and the Prince of Wales summoned Bacon to express doubts. “What is upsetting22 the King and the Prince of Wales so much is what they call ‘a feeling of unrest’ in the Service,” Bacon wrote to Fisher. Fisher immediately called Bacon’s letter to the attention of Lord Tweedmouth: “It is with extreme reluctance23 that I feel compelled... to bring before the Board the unprecedented conduct of the Commander-in-Chief Mediterranean in publicly reflecting on the conduct of the Admiralty and inciting those under his command to ridicule the decisions of the Board.” Fisher cited the “extraordinary conduct24 of a Commander-in-Chief canvassing his captains as to whether or not they approved the policy of the Board of Admiralty.”

  Curiously, considering Fisher’s knowledge of Beresford’s habits and dislike of Beresford’s behavior, the next assignment offered to Lord Charles was the premier appointment afloat, command of the new Channel Fleet. Lord Tweedmouth’s wish to conciliate those opposed to Fisher’s reforms was a factor. “I thought Lord Tweedmouth25 a most pleasant man,” said a visitor to the Admiralty, “but he gave me the idea of being much torn between the Fisherites and anti-Fisherites, and no wonder, considering that he can’t possibly know enough of the subject himself to be able to form any sort of opinion.” Fisher could have objected but, at least in his correspondence, he did not. Beresford’s appointment was announced in July 1906, to take effect the following spring. For over six months, Beresford’s name does not appear in Fisher’s letters at all.

  It was during this period that the Admiralty began to create the new Home Fleet. Certain battleships were to be withdrawn from the Channel Fleet, manned only by nucleus crews and stationed at the Nore, essentially in reserve. As the new dreadnoughts joined the fleet, they too would go to the Home Fleet, not the Channel Fleet. In wartime, the Home Fleet as well as the Atlantic Fleet would come under the command of the Commander-in-Chief, Channel Fleet; in peacetime, each would be commanded by an independent admiral. The reasons given were economy (the new Liberal government insisted that more money be saved) and increased security (the Home Fleet would remain in home waters to protect the country when the Channel Fleet and Atlantic Fleet were away on maneuvers). Lord Charles Beresford did not see it this way. In his view, just as he was about to join a new command, its importance and its numerical strength were to be diminished. Once again, the devilish Jacky Fisher had stepped across his path.

  Nearing the end of his Mediterranean t
our, Beresford took two months’ leave in Mexico to deal with the estate of his younger brother, who had been killed in an accident. When he returned to London, Fisher summoned him to the Admiralty in order to clarify the nature of Lord Charles’ new Channel Fleet command and make sure that the incoming Commander-in-Chief understood and accepted the limitations on his control over the various fleets in home waters. The meeting appeared successful and an agreement was drawn up: battleships, cruisers, and destroyers of the Home and Atlantic fleets would be detached from those organizations and placed under Lord Charles’ command for exercises and maneuvers, but administratively they would remain beyond his reach. And the decisions as to the timing and length of these temporary assignments would be made by the Admiralty, not by Lord Charles. Beresford declared that he understood and accepted the arrangement, and he initialed the document on which it was set forth.

  Despite the appearance of harmony, Fisher’s dislike and distrust of Beresford did not change. To a friend, he described the Admiralty interview with caustic humor:

  “I had three hours with Beresford26 yesterday and all is settled and the Admiralty don’t give in one inch to his demands; but I had as a preliminary to agree to three things:

  “I. Lord Charles Beresford is a greater man than Nelson.

  “II. No one knows anything about naval war except Lord Charles Beresford.

  “III. The Admiralty haven’t done a single d——d thing right.”

  Writing another friend, Fisher dropped any semblance of humor: “Lord Charles Beresford now dictates27 terms before he will accept the command of the Channel Fleet. He required that Fleet to be increased by cruisers and destroyers and that the Home Fleet shall come under his command.... If acceded to, it means that the Board of Admiralty will abdicate its functions and take its instructions from an irresponsible subordinate who is totally unacquainted with the world requirements of the British Navy and is only thinking of magnifying his own particular command.” To Lord Knollys, the King’s private secretary, Fisher revealed the depth of his animus against the Beresford appointment: “I followed your advice28 and wrote a most cordial letter to Beresford.... It will not be my fault if he resigns as Tweedmouth says he will. My conviction is29 he wants to get into parliament and hates the Channel.” Fisher was even more bitter in a letter to his newspaper friend Arnold White: “My conviction is that Beresford funks the Channel and wants to clear out! Fogs and short days and difficult navigation very different to Mediterranean white trousers!!! Wilson also very hard to follow.” A month after the Admiralty interview and still a month before Beresford actually took command of the Channel Fleet, Fisher grimly warned Lord Tweedmouth that accepting Beresford meant a “blow to discipline30 and the lowering of Admiralty authority. It is only putting off the evil day! But having adopted the policy of endeavouring to keep him, and in view of the action that has been taken, there seems no other course but to go on as now arranged.”

  Beresford hoisted his flag on King Edward VII on April 16, 1907, and for a few days he and Fisher endeavored to be polite to each other. “All I wish to assure you31 is that so far as I am concerned I am most anxious that we should avoid friction and undesirable correspondence—and so I think [it] in all ways desirable that we should discuss things personally,” the First Sea Lord wrote to the Commander-in-Chief. Beresford’s reply came back coated with honey. “There is not the slightest chance32 of any friction between me and you, or between me and anyone else,” he assured the First Sea Lord. “When the friction begins, I am off. If a senior and a junior have a row, the junior is wrong under any conceivable condition, or discipline could not go on. As long as I am here, I will do my best to make the Admiralty policy a success.”

  As senior flag officer afloat, Beresford now stood at the pinnacle of the seagoing British Navy. He commanded the most powerful fleet then in existence, consisting of fourteen battleships including the eight new ships of the pre-dreadnought King Edward VII class. His Channel Fleet, as Fisher described it, “is of itself a match33 for the German Fleet, and reinforced by the Atlantic Fleet, it has an overwhelming superiority.” If war came, Beresford as admiralissimo would command 244 warships, the mightiest fleet in history. In some respects, Lord Charles was well equipped for this role; in others, less so. His seamanship was outstanding; his personal bravery, displayed at Alexandria and in the Sudan, was undisputed. How successful he would have been as a wartime admiral, we shall never know. He was not much interested in strategy and tactics. His character was impulsive, even reckless; in wartime, blessed with luck, these qualities could lead to brilliant success. If luck was elsewhere, Lord Charles might not have been able to look defeat in the eye, coolly cut his losses, and save what was left of his fleet for the next day’s battle. As a peacetime admiral, he was enormously popular both with officers and men. Lamed by gout, he would be carried by four Royal Marines, “looking very like a Roman Emperor,”34 and enthroned on the bridge of his flagship. From there, he ruled his fleet with benevolent despotism. Everything centered on his own person. “My principal recollection,”35 recalled a former Channel Fleet officer, “is of endless piping, callings to attention, and buglings.” A stickler for the old navy rule that the senior officer present make every decision, including what uniforms all officers and men were to wear, what awnings the ships were to spread, when the men were to wash their clothes, when the washed clothes were to be hung up, and when they were to be taken down, Lord Charles watched his fleet with an eagle eye. Whatever his flagship did, the rest of the fleet had to do; if the flagship forgot to do something, the other ships must forget it too. Sir Percy Scott, the fanatical gunnery expert who commanded the First Cruiser Division of Beresford’s Channel Fleet, found this rule nonsensical. “I remember coming up on deck36 once and finding that, although it was pouring with rain, the guns were not covered. I pitched into the Officer of the Watch, but got the worst of it; he informed me that he could not cover the guns as the flagship had not covered hers.” For the most part, the fleet was kept extremely smart and clean. Lord Charles liked to invite his society friends and their elegant ladies aboard and have his wife, to whom he referred as “my little painted frigate,”37 serve as hostess beneath the yawning muzzles of the enormous guns. Beresford’s men did not mind these moments of social frippery; they were a welcome change from the austere regime of Sir Arthur Wilson, Lord Charles’ bachelor predecessor.

  Despite his undeniable talents and his enjoyment of the pleasures of rank, Lord Charles remained unhappy. From the moment he took command of the Channel Fleet, he took out his dissatisfaction by challenging the Admiralty. Every man in his fleet knew that he called Fisher “our dangerous lunatic”38 and that he had opposed most of Fisher’s reforms: the building of the Dreadnought (“We start at scratch39 with that type of ship”), the scrapping of dozens of older ships, and, most vehemently, the creation of the Home Fleet. Although at his January meeting with Fisher he had accepted, in writing, the new arrangement of fleets in home waters, Beresford informed the First Lord on May 13 that the Home Fleet was “a fraud upon the public40 and a danger to the Empire.” A few days later, he repeated and broadened this charge in a letter to Knollys (and therefore the King): “I am most distressed41 and alarmed at the complete absence of organization and preparation for war in the Fleet.... The Home Fleet is the greatest fraud ever perpetrated on the public.... I am doing the best I can to help Authority get things right.” Meanwhile, he warned, “if Germany attacked us suddenly, she would inflict terrible disasters on us and she might win.”

  Fisher, made aware of Beresford’s behavior and language, was beside himself. “The truth is42 that such language on the part of Lord Charles Beresford... besides being insubordinate is perfectly preposterous,” he informed Lord Tweedmouth. “Our superiority over Germany is so overwhelming and the superiority of our personnel and of our gunnery practice is so great, that the Germans know it would be madness for them to provoke a war.” He asked the First Lord to write to Beresford “with the obje
ct of disabusing him43 of the idea that now possesses him that his is the sole responsibility for the conduct of a naval war.... It is also imperative that Lord C. Beresford should be distinctly informed that the British Admiralty has no... intention of abdicating its functions.” Tweedmouth declined to satisfy the aroused First Sea Lord by censuring Beresford. Instead, he asked Fisher to be more tolerant of the Commander-in-Chief. “I know him to be ambitious44, self-advertising and gassy in his talk,” Lord Tweedmouth wrote of Beresford, “but we all knew those bad qualities of his and no one better than you when you very wisely recommended his... appointment.... There must always be a good deal of difference of opinion as to the manner of administrating so great a business as the British Navy and I feel very much... the responsibility... of consulting and conciliating the opinion of all whose experience qualifies them to form opinions on the subject whether they are in exact accord with the Admiralty Board views or not.... I am the last person in the world to abrogate one iota of the supremacy of the Board of Admiralty but I do think we sometimes are inclined to consider our own views to be infallible and are not ready enough to give consideration to the views of others who may disagree with us....” et cetera, et cetera.

  Tweedmouth’s schoolmasterish lectures astonished and dismayed Fisher, but there was nothing he could do except to accept them or resign. Soon Beresford was back with another complaint: the Admiralty had sent him no war plans. For over a century, British Admiralty procedure had been to issue each Commander-in-Chief a set of “War Orders,” dealing with broad political and military objectives. Within this framework, a fleet commander was expected to draft his own detailed, operational “War Plan,” assigning tasks to the ships and squadrons under his command. Once drafted, these “War Plans” were to be sent to the Admiralty for examination, amendment, and approval. In Beresford’s case, he was handed the same Admiralty War Orders which had been given to his predecessor Sir Arthur Wilson two years before. In addition, purely for illustrative purposes to help him draw up his own War Plan, he was sent a 188-page document entitled “War Plans,” which had been drawn up at the Admiralty. Beresford quickly drew up his own War Plan for war against Germany which involved using more battleships and cruisers than the Royal Navy possessed. The Admiralty rejected his plan, issued new War Orders, and directed Lord Charles to submit a revised War Plan. Beresford responded by asking to see Sir Arthur Wilson’s War Plan. Wilson replied that his War Plan had been inside his head except for specific orders that had been drafted during the Morocco Crisis and were now no longer valid. Matters were at an impasse. Meanwhile, Beresford buttressed his case that the Admiralty was thwarting his efforts by complaining that no one had told him what ships would be sent to him as reinforcements when war broke out. “It is manifestly impossible,”45 he wrote on June 27, “for me to submit detailed plans for the carrying out of operations... unless I know what ships are available to carry these plans out.” The Admiralty replied that this was impossible as it could not know, on any specific day, which ships would be in drydock or under other repair, or detached for training or other use.