The Germans had no prudent course but to retreat, which they did in the haze and chemically-created smoke—both fleets going to the south-west, curving to west. The fleets were hammering each other as hard as they could; but when darkness came down the German fleet, badly damaged but not seriously diminished in numbers, was still fighting in retreat. Admiral Jellicoe, in his own account of the battle, remarks: "At 9 p.m. the enemy was entirely out of sight, and the threat of torpedo-boat destroyer attacks during the rapidly approaching darkness made it necessary for me to dispose the fleet for the night with a view to its safety from such attacks, whilst providing for a renewal of action at daylight".
The opportunity for renewal at daybreak did not come; nor was it likely to have come, since von Scheer's first preoccupation was naturally not to fight a superior force under conditions least favourable to himself. It is therefore proper to state that the British Commander-in-Chief thought it wiser to break off action with his main fleet lest it should suffer too greatly in the turmoil and confusion of a night attack. The arguments in favour of this decision are several; the chief of them being that Admiral Jellicoe kept the British fleet and naval power intact, and another being those which the British admiral himself advanced, namely that he was not completely aware of how his own fleet and that of the enemy lay to one another, and that "the result of night actions between heavy ships must always be a matter of chance". Admiral Jellicoe did not feel justified in gambling on such a chance. He did what he told the Admiralty he should do in such circumstances, as recorded in a dispatch written on 30th Oct., 1914, and published at the end of the official Battle of Jutland in justification of his action: "If the enemy battle fleet were to turn away from an advancing fleet", he wrote on that occasion "I should assume that the intention was to lead us over mines and submarines, and should decline to be so drawn". The italics are Lord Jellicoe's own.
1917 on the European Fronts
The Russian Campaign.—On the Eastern front fighting on the grand scale had died down by the beginning of 1917, the Germans having exhausted the momentum of their advance under Mackensen, and accomplished their main purpose of putting Roumania out of account as a serious adversary. Along the line of the Sereth, and in the Bukovina, deadlock was reached in the spring of 1917. By that time the creeping paralysis which was seizing the Russian armies was making itself felt in this, their most distant tendon. Throughout April, May, and June the daily record of occurrences on the Eastern front is blank except for one attack by the Germans on the Stokhod (3rd April).
For the explanation of their quiescence the record of political events has to be scanned. It was well known on the Continent, though it was kept hidden from the British public during the winter of 1916-7, that the integrity of the Russian armies was crumbling, that soldiers were fraternizing with the enemy, and that a general revolution was being prepared by those forces of socialism and anarchy which had been thrust under, but had never lacked exponents, since the abortive revolution of 1905. The mismanagement, the corruption, and the bitter hardships of the war had given them their opportunity, and these were the 'Dark Forces', more than the rogue Rasputin, the parasite of the Russian Court, which undermined the influence of the monarchy, and extinguished Tsar
and Court, bureaucracy, aristocracy, and army in a common ruin. It was said in Europe during the winter of 1916-7 that the Allies would have to choose between the Russian monarchy and the Russian people; but neither the inertia of the Russian army nor the postponement of the re-opening of the Russian Duma acquainted the British public with the depth of the mischief that was working. The first inkling came on 12th March, 1917, when, following food riots in Petrograd, the Tsar ordered the suspension of the Duma. The Russian Revolution was the reply. Three Guard Regiments joined the people—the army had failed the monarchy. A Provisional Government was formed. Petrograd, Moscow, Kharkov, and Odessa joined it; and on 15th March the Tsar abdicated under compulsion. Several figures emerged from the crisis. M. Miliukoff, of the Constitutional Party, and Kerensky, a link with the Socialists, but the real forces at work did not at first show themselves.
On 24th March the army declared its loyalty to the Provisional Government, which two days before had been recognized by the Allies. For a time hopes were entertained that under this Provisional Government Russia would carry out her obligations to the Allies, and that her armies would fight; and every sort of device, including interchange of visits with representatives of British Labour and French Socialism, was employed to foster cordiality. The first sign of the essential futility of such hopes appeared on 4th May, when it was evident that the Russian Provisional Government was failing. A new coalition was formed, with Kerensky at its head, and loyalty to the Allies was urged and asserted. French and American missions visited Petrograd and Moscow, but no real consolidation was effected, though in the latter end of May and the beginning of June there was a remarkably deceptive appearance of it.
Under the spur of great efforts by M. Kerensky the army was stimulated into action once more, and a new offensive prepared. On such an offensive the Allies had placed high hopes, for the Russian armies in the spring of 1917 were better equipped and better provided with guns and ammunition than ever before. At first some of these hopes seemed destined to be realized. General Brussiloff, who had succeeded General Alexieff as Commander-in-Chief of the Russian armies, consented rather reluctantly, under the insistence of Kerensky—at that time engaged in a life-and-death struggle with the forces of the Bolshevik party led by Lenin and Trotsky—to organize an attack on the Austro-Hungarian front south of the Pripet. It was believed that the soldiers of these southern armies were less tainted by Bolshevism than those in the northern armies, and that a success here might rally the country to its older standards of patriotism. Brussiloff entrusted the offensive to General Gutor, who had in his favour the facts that the Austro-Hungarian armies were as war-weary as the Russian, and that the German Head-quarters Staff, who were well acquainted with the extent of Russian disaffection, and had indeed been instrumental in inspiring and organizing it, were sceptical about the possibility of such an attack. Furthermore, in the sectors from Brody to the Dniester and beyond, where Lechitsky had halted in 1916, the Russians had a considerable numerical superiority—54 divisions to 30 composite Austro-Hungarian, Turkish, and German divisions, and were well equipped, well posted, and well supplied.
General Gutor directed three armies. The Eleventh, under General Erdelli, was to act along an 11-mile front from a point north-west of Tarnopol, and to get astride the railway which leads from Tarnopol through Zloczow to Lemberg. The Seventh Army, under General Belkovitch, facing Brzezany, was to cross the Zlota Lipa River, where von Bothmer had made his stand, and was then to wheel north-eastward in the same direction as Erdelli's army, with which it was to get in touch. If this movement succeeded, the combined armies were to advance towards Bobrka and the railway from Halicz to Lemberg. The whole of this task was through difficult country. Far to the south General Korniloff, with the Eighth Army, was entrusted with the turning movement. He was to overrun the Halicz region and to obtain control of the railway thence to Lemberg. If this wide turning movement succeeded, and if Belkovitch also did well, the Austro-Hungarian armies would be outflanked and in danger of being rolled up, while pinned down in the north by Erdelli.
The venture was audacious, and the Russian commanders scarce dare trust their men. The Seventh Army's task in assaulting the Zlota Lipa line was such as would have tried the bravest and most loyal troops. The attack began on 1st July, and Belkovitch's men advanced bravely enough, protected by good artillery. In the first assault they took the river line and 2000 prisoners. But between the Zlota Lipa and its tributary Tseniow was a death-trap, and the Russians were caught in a murderous cross-fire. The day was not lost; but at this critical moment occurred an incident which was symptomatic of Russia's disorders, and was the death sentence of Russia's continuance as a combatant. A division which might have turned the scale refused to advance.