Modern ships of war

by Sir Edward J. Reed; Edward Simpson

It is often asked which has the better fleet, France or England. Who can tell? No one definitely. Admiral Sir R. Spencer Robinson, late Comptroller of the British Navy, declares, in the Contemporary Review of February, 1887, that “the number of armored vessels of the two countries may be stated approximately as fifty-five for England and fifty-one for France. Without going into further details, taking everything into consideration, giving due weight to all the circumstances which affect the comparison, and assuming that the designs of the naval constructors on each side of the Channel will fairly fulfil the intentions of each administration (a matter of interminable dispute, and which nothing but an experiment carried to destruction can settle), the iron-clad force of England is, on the whole, rather superior to that of France. A combination of the navy of that Power with any other would completely reverse the position. I should state as my opinion, leaving others to judge what it may be worth, that in fighting power the unarmored ships of England are decidedly superior to those of our rival’s; but if the raison d’être of the French navy is—as has been frequently stated in that country, and by none more powerfully and categorically than by the French Minister of Marine—the wide-spread, thorough destruction of British commerce, and the pitiless and remorseless ransom of every undefended and accessible town in the British dominions, regardless of any sentimentalities or such rubbish as the laws of war and the usages of civilized nations; and if at least one of the raisons d’être of the British navy is to defeat those benevolent intentions, and to defend that commerce on which depends our national existence and imperial greatness—then I fear that perhaps they have prepared to realize their purpose of remorseless destruction rather better than we have ours of successful preservation.”

A long sentence this, but it emphasizes the great axiom that war is business, not sentiment, and teaches a lesson which this country will do well to learn. Fortunately, we are at last out of the shallows, if not fairly in the full flooding channel-way, though many things are yet wanting with us. Perhaps this over-long chapter cannot be made to end more usefully than by quoting in proof of this the concluding paragraph of that brilliant article on naval policy which Professor James Russell Soley, United States Navy, contributed to the February (1887) number of Scribner’s Magazine:

“It is the part of wisdom,” he writes, “to study the lessons of the past, and to learn what we may from the successes or the failures of our fathers. The history of the last war is full of these lessons, and at no time since its close has the navy been in a condition so favorable for their application. At least their meaning cannot fail to be understood. They show clearly that if we would have a navy fitted to carry on war, we must give some recognition to officers on the ground of merit, either by the advancement of the best, or, what amounts to nearly the same thing, by the elimination of the least deserving; that we must give them a real training for war in modern ships and with modern weapons; that the direction of the naval establishment, in so far as it has naval direction, must be given unity of purpose, and the purpose to which it must be directed is fighting efficiency; that a naval reserve of men and of vessels must be organized capable of mobilization whenever a call shall be made; and, finally, that a dozen or a score of new ships will not make a navy, but that the process of renewal must go on until the whole fleet is in some degree fitted to stand the trial of modern war. Until this rehabilitation can be accomplished the navy will only serve the purpose of a butt for the press and a foot-ball for political parties and its officers—a body of men whose intelligence and devotion would be equal to any trust will be condemned to fritter away their lives in a senseless parody of their profession.”

THE BRITISH NAVY.

By SIR EDWARD J. REED.

When timber gave place to iron and steel in the construction of war-ships, the naval possibilities of Great Britain became practically illimitable. Prior to that great change the British Admiralty, after exhausting its home supplies of oak, had to seek in the forests of Italy and of remote countries those hard, curved, twisted, and stalwart trees which alone sufficed for the massive framework of its line-of-battle ships. How recently it has escaped from this necessity may be inferred from the fact that the present writer, on taking office at the Admiralty in 1863, found her Majesty’s dockyards largely stored with recent deliveries of Italian and other oak timber of this description.

And here it may not be inappropriate for one whose earliest professional studies were devoted to the construction of wooden ships, but whose personal labors have been most largely devoted to the iron era, to pay a passing tribute of respect to the constructive genius of those great builders in wood who designed the stanch and towering battle-ships of the good old times. Skilful, indeed, was the art, sound, indeed, was the science, which enabled them to shape, assemble, and combine thousands of timbers and planks into the Grace de Dieu of Great Harry’s day (1514), the Sovraigne of the Seas of Charles’s reign (1637), the Royal William of half a century later (1682-92), the Victory, immortalized by Nelson, and in our own early day such superb ships as the Queen, the Howe, and scores of others. Only those who have made a study of the history of sea architecture can realize the difficulties which the designers of such structures had to overcome.

With the introduction of iron and steel for ship-building purposes the necessity for ransacking the forests of the world for timber suitable for the frames and beam-knees of ships passed away, and Great Britain, which early became, and thus far remains, first and greatest in the production of iron and steel, was thus invited to such a development of naval power as the world has never seen. The mercantile marine of England at the present time furnishes a splendid demonstration of the readiness with which the commercial classes have appreciated this great opportunity; but the Royal Navy, by almost universal assent, supplies a melancholy counter-demonstration, and shows that neither the capabilities of a race nor the leadings of Providence suffice to keep a nation in its true position when it falls into the hands of feeble and visionary administrators. Any one who will contrast the British navy of to-day with the British navy as it might and would have been under the administration, say, of such a First Lord of the Admiralty as the present Duke of Somerset proved himself in every department of the naval service five-and-twenty years ago, will understand the recent outcry in England for a safer and more powerful fleet.