The Great War at Sea: 1914-1918

by Richard Hough

  More firmly than in 1909, every sign, every portent, pointed to war with Germany. The first communication from Buckingham Palace received by Churchill after assuming office confirmed all that he feared.

  Secret

  Buckingham Palace.

  Oct. 25th, 1911

  My dear Churchill,

  The King wishes me to let you know that yesterday he heard from a relation in Germany who had recently been in Berlin to the following effect:-

  ‘Admiral Tirpitz said, at the time when the Morocco [Agadir] crisis had reached its acute stage, that Germany would have gone to war with England but her Fleet was not ready yet and would not be until 1915 when the Canal would be finished so that all the largest ships could pass through, and by that time they would have enough Dreadnoughts launched to deal with any Power. The mines from Heligoland to the mainland would not be ready until 1914. If war broke out now’, the Admiral said, ‘the German Fleet would be smashed for no reason at all’: (i.e. with no advantage to Germany).

  The writer then went on to say: ‘That is the reason why Germany gave in: so far as I can see we shall be fighting in 1915.’

  If he did not hear these views expressed by Admiral Tirpitz himself, he heard them second hand.

  Yours very truly,

  (Sgd:) Stamfordham(2)

  The strength of the German Fleet in 1912 may have fallen short of British predictions, but there could be no doubt that the tempo of the ‘race’ was increasing. The settlement of the Agadir Crisis had left Germany publicly humiliated and her people exasperated and angry. Tirpitz, always the masterly opportunist, now pressed for a supplementary navy bill to achieve a 2:3 ratio in dreadnoughts with the British Navy. ‘The purpose and aim of our naval policy is political independence from England – the greatest possible security against an English attack – and a promising chance of defence if war should come’, Tirpitz stated.(3)

  The figures 2:3 sounded to the uninitiated comparatively modest. But there were other factors to take into account. As had been witnessed in past years, battleship figures in particular could be manipulated. For example, pre-dreadnought battleships could count as half a battleship or none. The last British pre-dreadnoughts completed after HMS Dreadnought were formidable enough to be counted as full dreadnoughts by some calculations. Moreover, British maritime responsibilities were world-wide, and in spite of Fisher’s concentration of power at home, there remained substantial forces in the Mediterranean and the Far East. Then, Britain as an island, with her much longer and more vulnerable coastline, was more open to surprise attack – the ‘bolt from the blue’. The Director of Naval Intelligence (DNI) predicted that ‘a sudden and dramatic outbreak would be distinctive of future wars, especially of warfare at sea. The advantages… are so enormous as to quite outweigh any lingering scruples of international comity.’(4)

  Churchill’s grasp of the naval situation he had inherited was confirmed to all those who heard him at a meeting of the Committee of Imperial Defence. ‘The ultimate scale of the German fleet is of the most formidable character’, he told members.

  ‘The whole character of the German fleet shows that it is designed for aggressive and offensive action of the largest possible character in the North Sea or the North Atlantic…

  We are sometimes told that the Germans only think of fighting a battle which will leave that greater Power seriously weakened after the battle is over; they will have destroyed themselves and the greater naval Power will be weakened… Anything more foolish than to spend all these millions year after year to make all these efforts and sacrifices and exertions for no other purpose than certainly to come off second best on the day of trial cannot well be imagined.’

  The German Navy, Churchill emphasized, ‘is intended for a great trial of strength with the navy of the greatest naval power’.(5)

  In spite of these firm and determined words spoken publicly as well as within the confines of a Whitehall meeting, Churchill remained strong for peace and for reducing naval expenditure so long as Germany showed, however slightly, similar sentiments. In his first public speech as First Lord, in the Guildhall on 9 November 1911, he asserted that a large reduction in the British naval estimates was certain if no increases in the German Navy Law were introduced. Three months later, he declared himself in favour of what came to be known as ‘the Haldane peace mission’ to Germany.

  Alarmed by the increase in tension following the resolution of the Agadir Crisis, Sir Ernest Cassel, the multi-millionaire British banker, and his friend Albert Ballin, the German shipping magnate, had conversations on how relations between the two powers might be eased. These promised well and resulted in an agreement, warmly approved by the Emperor of Germany and conditionally agreed to by the British Cabinet, on a basis for opening official negotiations. Lord Haldane who, as Secretary of State for War, had entirely reformed and remodelled the Army, was selected to lead the British mission. Haldane was not only a statesman. He was a philosopher and lawyer who had been educated partly in Germany. The talks were long and exhaustive and led nowhere. Tirpitz was adamant that Germany must go ahead with her supplementary bill for the Navy, offering only to decrease the rate of dreadnought construction. The Germans demanded a more neutral policy by Britain as the price for any real reduction in naval expenditure. This Britain could not entertain. The ties with Russia and France were essential for defence and for practical considerations.

  With the acceptance of failure, Britain’s ties with her allies were strengthened, and increased naval rivalry once again made certain. In spite of this breakdown, attempts that were not all political or half-hearted were made over the next two years to bring about some sort of decrease in naval building. Churchill placed his faith in a ‘naval holiday’, a break from dreadnought construction, but suspicion of his motives was too strong in Germany for any hope of success. This can be seen in a letter on the subject from the British naval attaché in Germany to the Foreign Secretary Grey. ‘Tonight, after the Yacht Club dinner, the Emperor sent for me. His Majesty was somewhat serious and remarked that he had heard that Mr Churchill, in his expected speech on naval shipbuilding intended again to refer to the ‘naval holiday’… His Majesty continued to the effect that if Mr Churchill did make a further suggestion of a naval holiday he could not answer for the state of opinion in Germany… His Majesty went on to say: ‘It is absurd England always looking at Germany. I have information from Russia and France that they are spending so many millions on fleet expansion and I must make my fleet expenditure sufficient to meet that. I am no longer able to enter into a fleet agreement with England.’ (This is practically verbatim).’(6)

  After reading a copy of this letter, Churchill noted in a memorandum addressed to Grey and the Prime Minister: ‘It is very natural that the German Emperor… should not relish the prospect of proposals being made by this country, the good sense of which will be increasingly appreciated the longer they are studied. We are, however, face to face with the declaration of the German Chancellor in the Reichstag on the 7th of April 1913 that they ‘awaited’ the formulation of ‘definite proposals’ from us. The German Government cannot expect to enjoy the advantages of saying in public that they ‘await proposals’ and of saying confidentially that they will resent it if they are made. If therefore it is decided that no further reference to a ‘naval holiday’ should be made at the present time, I ought to be at liberty to state that we have received representations from the German Government to the effect that they do not desire to discuss any such proposals.’(7)

  This fencing in the dark while, outside, real sabres were being rattled, continued through the last fateful months of 1913 and 1914. On 13 March 1913 Churchill presented the new naval estimates to Parliament, which provided for a further five dreadnoughts and twenty-four cruisers and destroyers. The Liberal Press had now reduced its alarm and opposition to a muted and resigned groan. The Conservative newspapers thought that the proposals were inadequate and that there should be six dreadnoughts. Churchill ra
ised again his idea for a ‘naval holiday’: if you promise not to lay down dreadnoughts for twelve months, we’ll do the same. Millions will be saved with no loss to either side – this, in effect, was what he was offering.

  The response in Germany was as outraged as the British naval attaché and British ambassador had warned it would be. There were accusations that arrogant Britain was again attempting to interfere with German internal policy and her right to be strong at sea, cause unemployment in German shipyards and industry generally, to hurl insults at the Emperor. The German naval attaché in London said the proposal was bogus and made only as a sop to the radical-Liberals.

  When Churchill repeated the ‘naval holiday’ proposal yet again in October 1913 he was made a target for the vituperation of British Conservatives and German diplomats and defence chiefs alike. It was remarked in Germany that it was time for Churchill ‘to take a holiday for a year’.

  Like Neptune’s trident with which cartoonists frequently linked Churchill as First Lord of the Admiralty, his motives were threepronged. As a Liberal he genuinely wished for a reduction in defence expenditure and an increase in social benefits. As a politician he recognized the kudos he gained in his party by his efforts, even if they were by now futile. And as a naval administrator he recognized the difficulties already being experienced in finding the yards to build these ever more gargantuan men o’war and the sailors to man them.

  In 1913 the Mediterranean had again become a grave anxiety to the Admiralty. The fact was that dreams of battleships among the Mediterranean nations, which had been known for some time, were rapidly becoming reality. Dreadnought fever was infectious. France, Italy, Spain, and Austria-Hungary were building their own, and Greece and Turkey had already ordered dreadnoughts from foreign yards. By 1915, more than twenty dreadnoughts would be completed and commissioned; and in the ever-changing fortunes of diplomacy, who could say which nation might be an ally or an enemy in some future war? Only France could be relied upon as a friend to help the much-reduced British naval force in the Mediterranean.

  On 10 July 1912, Grey assured the House of Commons that there was no intention of withdrawing further strength from the Mediterranean, and that Britain would maintain a fleet there capable of dealing with either Austria or Italy, but not both. If there was a general conflagration in Europe, Austria and Italy were unlikely to be on the same side, and in any case France would then become involved. At this time, Churchill announced that a force of eight dreadnoughts would be provided for the Mediterranean by 1915, in time for the completion of the Austrian programme. For the present, there would be a battle-cruiser force based on Malta.

  The Mediterranean position worsened soon after these announcements with the inevitable outcome of the Italo-Turkish war, a particularly cruel conflict. When peace was concluded in October 1912, Italy was in occupation of Tripoli, with its first-class naval base at Tobruk, the Dodecanese Islands, and a number of Aegean islands. Italy, in possession of a powerful navy and a string of strategic bases in the eastern Mediterranean, had swiftly become a serious threat to British interests and communications at a time ‘when our whole fleet is insufficient to provide for a sure preponderance in the North Sea coincidentally with an effective protection of our Mediterranean interests’. This memorandum from the C.-in-C. of the Mediterranean Fleet, concluded: ‘The situation would plainly be aggravated by the establishment of a hostile Naval Station in the Aegean.’(8)

  On 15 November Grey warned the Italians that if they set up a base in the Aegean ‘we would certainly want something of the kind ourselves’. The Germans, quick to seize the opportunity, formed for the first time a Mediterranean squadron consisting of their newest dreadnought battle-cruiser supported by fast light cruisers. At almost the same time, Turkey approached Britain about an ‘arrangement’.

  With his mind now deeply concerned about the growing British difficulties in the Mediterranean, Churchill addressed Grey on the subject of a recent friendly approach by Turkey: ‘I could not help feeling that our [Cabinet] colleagues were rather inclined to treat a little too lightly the crude overture wh the Turkish Govt have made… Italy has behaved atrociously; and I cannot myself measure what the feelings of our countrymen will be as the news of these abominable massacres, resulting as they do from an act of wanton & cynical aggression is amplified and confirmed. I am sure, judging by what I hear from every quarter, that all the strongest dements in Liberal opinion must be stirred against the Italians… Turkey has much to offer us. In fixing our eyes upon the Belgian frontier & the North Sea we must not forget that we are the greatest Mahomitan power in the world… Turkey is the great land weapon wh the Germans cd use against us.’(9)

  Both Germany and Britain had been exerting influence on Turkey and taking practical steps to support her armed forces for several years. Turkey turned naturally to the German Army for military guidance, and Britain had set up a naval mission to reorganize the deplorable Turkish fleet and, incidentally, to balance German diplomatic influence. The British mission also carried the responsibility – like similar naval missions elsewhere – of obtaining orders for British shipyards. Two dreadnoughts were already under construction by Vickers at Barrow and Armstrongs on the Tyne. Churchill sought to increase this British naval influence to the extent of selling at a knock-down price two pre-dreadnought battleships immediately. This met with the hostility of some politicians and the indifference of most. It was also against the advice of his First Sea Lord, Vice-Admiral Prince Louis of Battenberg, whose eldest daughter, (Prince Philip’s mother) had married into the Greek royal family. He was in favour of closer ties with Greece instead. It was, in fact, already too late. German influence was implacably growing in Constantinople and British influence waning.

  The naval position in the eastern Mediterranean remained anxious and unsatisfactory. The only consolation – and it was a double one was that an assessment of the quality of the Italian and Austrian Fleets was low, no matter how numerous their future dreadnoughts. It might not be as low as the Turkish Navy, but the Austrians were observed to be pantomime sailors, with high jinks and parades, glittering epaulettes and bursts of song like some Viennese operetta. And the Italians had long since lost the skills and feel for the sea of the old-time Genoese and Venetians.

  For Britain the position in the western Mediterranean should have been a great deal more satisfactory. The French Navy could never be a match for the German High Seas Fleet, although its quality had enormously improved in recent years. Therefore, sensibly judging that their British allies could be safely left to deal with Germany in the north, the French in September 1912 moved their Brest squadron to Toulon to face any threat from Austria or Italy, leaving their northern and western coasts unguarded. At the same time, the French naval authorities approached Britain on the subject of exchange of plans and mutual co-operation in time of war.

  The British response was not entirely negative but it was very cautious. In spite of the Entente Cordiale, a suspicion of France engendered by old conflicts and rivalries and a national reluctance to surrender her independence of policy and action still remained. In London the French naval attaché was informed by Churchill that nothing arising from any conversations between the two naval authorities ‘could influence political decisions’. ‘The point I am anxious to safeguard’, wrote Churchill to Asquith and Grey, ‘is our freedom of choice if the occasion arises, and consequent power to influence French policy beforehand. That freedom will be sensibly impaired if the French can say that they have denuded their Atlantic seaboard, and concentrated in the Mediterranean on the faith of naval arrangements made with us.’(10) And this is exactly what the French did say.

  The hard core of the Conservative Press trumpeted that reliance on the French in the Mediterranean was ‘absolutely repugnant to the mass of Englishmen’ (Daily Express) and ‘marked the limits of what a self-respecting people should endure’ (The Globe). In the end, so pressing was the need and so intense was the threat of war, that limited naval
conversations led to limited agreement on naval co-operation from the Straits of Dover to the Mediterranean. The preparation was authorized of a joint book of signals to be used in time of war with Germany in which both parties were engaged as allies. That was all. The British Admiralty, and the whole nation, were to pay a high price for their blinkered and selfish attitude towards the French under the guise of patriotic pride in independence. It is a heavy mark against Churchill and his naval administration that they were responsible for bringing this about.

  As for similar conversations and co-operation with Britain’s likely ally in the east, Russian approaches were rebuffed with thinly veiled contempt for the Tsar’s navy in the Baltic and the Black Sea. When the Russians pressed again for some sort of mutually beneficial arrangement in the event of war, Prince Louis indicated that perhaps he might talk to the Tsar about it when he went to Moscow in August 1914. His sister-in-law was the Tsarina and the children of the two families liked to play together on holiday.

  In the two years before war broke out in Europe, Churchill’s endeavours to increase the strength of the Navy and maintain superiority over Germany while pacifying the little-navy radical Liberals and Labour critics at home, ran in parallel with his attempts to bring about a pause in the dreadnought race which was so severely stretching the resources of both nations.

  ‘Bloated and profligate expenditure on armaments’ was an expression frequently used by radical and anti-navalist elements in Britain, and was quoted again by Lloyd George in an important statement he made in the columns of the Liberal Daily Chronicle on New Year’s Day 1914 in which he made a strong appeal to the European nations to reduce their expenditure on arms. He opened with a back-hander against his old ally and colleague, Churchill, by reminding his readers that Churchill’s father had resigned rather than support further expenditure on arms. There was a hint that now Churchill himself might face enforced resignation for his opposite policy.