A History of Sea Power

by William Oliver Stevens; Allan F. Westcott

Certainly the tactics of Jellicoe do not suggest those of Blake, Hawke, or Nelson. They do not fit Farragut's motto—borrowed from Danton[1]—"l'audace, encore l'audace, et toujours l'audace," or Napoleon's "frappez vite, frappez fort." War, as has been observed before, cannot be waged without taking risks. The British had a heavy margin to gamble on. As it happened, 23 out of the entire 28 battleships came out of the fight without so much as a scratch on their paint; and, after deployment, only one out of the battle line of 27 dreadnoughts received a single hit. This was the Colossus, which had four men wounded by a shell.

[Footnote 1: And borrowed by Danton from Cicero.]

The touchstone of naval excellence is Nelson. As Mahan has so ably pointed out, while weapons change principles remain. Dewey, in deciding to take the chances involved in a night entry of Manila Bay did so in answer to his own question, "What would Farragut do?" Hence in considering Jutland one may take a broader view than merely a criticism of tactics. In a word, does the whole conduct of the affair reveal the method and spirit of Nelson?

At Trafalgar there was no need for a deployment after the enemy was sighted because in the words of the famous Memorandum, "the order of sailing is to be the order of battle." The tactics to be followed when the French appeared had been carefully explained by Nelson to his commanders. No signal was needed—except the fine touch of inspiration in "England expects every man to do his duty." In brief, the British fleet had been so thoroughly indoctrinated, and the plan was so simple, that there was no room for hesitation, uncertainty, or dependence on the flagship for orders at the last minute. It is hard to see evidence of any such indoctrination of the Grand Fleet before Jutland.

Again, Nelson was, by example and precept, constantly insisting on the initiative of the subordinate. "The Second in Command will ... have the entire direction of his line to make the attack upon the enemy, and to follow up the blow until they are captured or destroyed.... Captains are to look to their particular line as their rallying point. But in case signals can neither be seen nor perfectly understood, no captain can do very wrong if he places his ship alongside that of an enemy." At Jutland, despite the urgent signals of Beatty at two critical moments, neither Burney of the sixth division nor Jerram of the first felt free to act independently of the orders of the Commander in Chief. The latter tried, as Nelson emphatically did not, to control from the flagship every movement of the entire fleet.

Further, if naval history has taught anything it has established a point so closely related to the responsibility and initiative of the subordinate as to be almost a part of it; namely, a great fleet that fights in a single rigid line ahead never achieves a decisive victory. Blake, Tromp, and de Ruyter fought with squadrons, expecting—indeed demanding—initiative on the part of their flag officers. That was the period when great and decisive victories were won. The close of the 17th century produced the "Fighting Instructions," requiring the unbroken line ahead, and there followed a hundred years of indecisive battles and bungled opportunities. Then Nelson came and revived the untrammeled tactics of the days of Blake with the added glory of his own genius. It appears that at Jutland the battleships were held to a rigid unit of fleet formation as in the days of the Duke of York or Admiral Graves. And concentration with a long line of dreadnoughts is no more possible to-day than it was with a similar line of two-decked sailing ships a century and a half ago.

Finally, in the matter of spirit, the considerations that swayed the movements of the Grand Fleet at all stages were apparently those of what the enemy might do instead of what might be done to the enemy, the very antithesis of the spirit of Nelson. It is no reflection on the personal courage of the Commander in Chief that he should be moved by the consideration of saving his ships. The existence of the Grand Fleet was, of course, essential to the Allied cause, and there was a heavy weight of responsibility hanging on its use. But again it is a matter of naval doctrine. Did the British fleet exist merely to maintain a numerical preponderance over its enemy or to crush that enemy—whatever the cost? If the battle of Jutland receives the stamp of approval as the best that could have been done, then the British or the American officer of the future will know that he is expected primarily to "play safe." But he will never tread the path of Blake, Hawke, or Nelson, the men who made the traditions of the Service and forged the anchors of the British Empire.

Thus the great battle turned out to be indecisive; in fact, it elated the Germans with a feeling of success and depressed the British with a keen sense of failure. Nevertheless, the control of the sea remained in the hands of the English, and never again did the High Seas Fleet risk another encounter. The relative positions at sea of the two adversaries therefore remained unaltered.

On the other hand, if the British had destroyed the German fleet the victory would have been priceless. As Jervis remarked at Cape St. Vincent, "A victory is very essential to England at this hour." The spring of 1916 was an ebb point in Allied prospects. The Verdun offensive was not halted, the Somme drive had not yet begun, the Russians were beaten far back in their own territory, the Italians had retreated, and there was rebellion in Ireland. The annihilation of the High Seas Fleet would have reversed the situation with dramatic suddenness and would have at least marked the turning point of the war. Without a German battle fleet, the British could have forced the fighting almost to the very harbors of the German coast—bottling up every exit by a barrage of mines. The blockade, therefore, could have been drawn close to the coast defenses. Moreover, with the High Seas Fleet gone, the British fleet could have entered and taken possession of the Baltic, which throughout the war remained a German lake. By this move England would have threatened the German Baltic coast with invasion and extended her blockade in a highly important locality, cutting off the trade between Sweden and Germany. She would also have come to the relief of Russia, which was suffering terrible losses from the lack of munitions. Indeed it would have saved that ally from the collapse that withdrew her from the war. With no German "fleet in being" great numbers of workers in English industry and vast quantities of supplies might have been transferred to the support of the army. The threat of invasion would have been removed, and the large army that was kept in England right up to the crisis of March, 1918,[1] would have been free to reenforce the army at the front. Finally, without the personnel of the German fleet there could have been no ruthless submarine campaign the year after, such as actually came so near to winning the war. Thus, while the German claim to a triumph that drove the British from the seas is ridiculous, it is equally so to argue, as the First Lord of the Admiralty did, that there was no need of a British victory at Jutland, that all the fruits of victory were gained as it was. The subsequent history of the war tells a different tale.

[Footnote 1: A quarter of a million men were sent from England at this time.]