The Memoirs of Admiral Lord Beresford
At Alexandria, the midshipmen of a United States warship challenged the
midshipmen in the Fleet to a pulling race. At that time I had a
private galley, the _Hippocampe_, which had never been beaten; while
the Americans had a boat of special construction, much lighter than our
Service boats. As the _Hippocampe_ was not a regulation Service boat,
I asked the American captain whether he had any objection to her. He
said he had none. I trained a crew selected from the midshipmen of the
Fleet. The American midshipmen were of course older and heavier than
our boys, as they enter the Navy at a later age. At one point in the
race they were ten lengths ahead; but at the end they were astern.
While I was in command of the _Undaunted_, two of the midshipmen of the
Fleet performed the feat of climbing the Great Pyramid on the wrong
side, where the stone is rotten. It was a most perilous proceeding;
and as I was responsible for the party, when the boys, having nearly
reached the top, crawled round to the safe side, I was greatly
relieved, and so was the Sheikh, who was imploring me on his knees to
stop them. The fact was that the midshipmen had refused to take the
Arab guides, and had started before I knew what was happening.
I used to take the midshipmen out for paperchases at Malta. The
flag-lieutenant and myself, being mounted, were the hares. Crowds used
to watch us, and we finished up with a big tea. Races on horseback for
the midshipmen {476} were held at St. Paul's Bay, myself being the
winning-post, at which they arrived hot and panting. There were only
two accidents on record, a broken arm and a broken leg.
We ascended Vesuvius together, taking a heliograph, with which we
signalled to the flagship, lying below in the Bay of Naples. Upon the
very day the last great eruption began, we looked down the crater and
saw the lava heaving and bubbling like boiling coffee in a glass
receiver, and smoke bursting from it. The guides hurried us away and
down; and no sooner had we arrived at the station, than there sounded
the first explosion, which blew up the spot upon which we had been
standing.
Seldom have I been more anxious than upon the day I stood on the roof
of the Palace at Malta, and watched a crew of midshipmen struggling to
make the harbour in a whole gale of wind. I had sent them in the
launch to Gozo, and they had taken my bull-dog with them to give him
some exercise. While they were on shore, the gale blew up; and rather
than break their leave, the boys set sail. To my intense relief, I saw
them make the harbour; and then as they hauled the sheet aft to
round-to, over went the boat, and they were all swimming about in the
harbour; but happily they all came safely to land, including my
bull-dog.
There was once a midshipman (an Irishman) who, perceiving treacle
exposed for sale upon the cart of an itinerant vender of miscellaneous
commodities, was suddenly inspired (I do not know why) with a desire to
buy that condiment.
"What should the like of you be wanting with treacle?" said the man,
who was a surly fellow.
"Why shouldn't I buy treacle?" said the boy.
"How much do you want?"
"As much as you've got."
"I've got nothing to put it in," grumbled the man.
"Put it in my hat," insisted the midshipman, proffering that
receptacle. It was a tall hat, for he was in mufti.
{477}
The vender of treacle reluctantly filled the hat with treacle.
"What are you going to do with it?" he asked again.
"I'll show you," returned the midshipman; and he swiftly clapped the
hat over the other's head, and jammed it down.
{478}
CHAPTER XLIX
THE PARLIAMENTARY ANVIL
Shortly after the expiration of my appointment as second in command in
the Mediterranean, I was back again in the House of Commons, this time
as member for Woolwich, having been returned unopposed. Many
improvements in the Navy had been accomplished under Lord Salisbury's
administration; but the central defect in the system remained; and the
name of it was the want of a War Staff. There was no one in existence
whose duty it was to discover and to represent what were the present
and the future requirements of Imperial defence. The purpose with
which the Intelligence Department had been constituted at the
Admiralty, that it should be developed into a War Staff, had not been
fulfilled. The First Sea Lord was indeed charged with the duties of
organisation for war and the preparation of plans of campaign; but no
one man could by any possibility accomplish so vast and so complex a
task. How, then, was it done? The answer is that it was not done.
The extraordinary achievement of the late Sir Frederick Richards may of
course be cited to exemplify what one man can do; but Sir Frederick was
the man of a century, alike in knowledge, ability and character; and
that he was enabled, as First Sea Lord, temporarily to conquer the
difficulties inherent in the system, merely proves that the system was
so bad that a man of genius was required to overcome its defects, and
(in a word) to achieve his purpose in spite of it. The supply of such
men is extremely {479} limited. When such an one appears, which (with
luck) is once or twice in a generation, the system may be disregarded,
for he will make his own system.
But the need of a War Staff is sufficiently proved by the fact that,
ever since it was established in 1912, its members have been working
day and night. Two flag officers, four captains, five commanders, one
lieutenant; three majors, Royal Marines, six captains, Royal Marines;
one engineer-commander, three paymasters, and a staff of clerks: 25
officers and 19 civilians; now (1913) constitute the three divisions of
the Admiralty War Staff; more than double the number composing the
Intelligence Department when in 1912 it became one of the Divisions of
the War Staff. The balance of officers and clerks was added to the
Admiralty to discharge new duties. Who performed these duties before
the addition was made? No one. What was the result? The Government
were ignorant of all save obvious requirements, and often of those; and
in the result, occurred periodical revelations of deficiencies
(sometimes called panics), involving that excessive expenditure which
is the price of neglect.
I have wrought hard to reform the system all my life. My successive
sojourns in Parliament have been chiefly dedicated to that enterprise.
So in 1902 I began again to hammer on the Parliamentary anvil. In
March, I addressed the London Chamber of Commerce upon the lack of
administrative efficiency in national organisation for defence. In
June, I moved the reduction of the First Lord's salary in order to call
attention to defects in Admiralty administration. It was pointed out
that the time of commanders-in-chief upon most naval stations was
habitually expended in representing to the Admiralty deficiencies which
would never have occurred were there a Department at the Admiralty
charged with the duty of providing against them; and that, in the lack
of such a War Staff, the Budget for naval purposes was based upon
financial and political considerations, leaving naval requirements out
of the reckoning.
Mr. H. O. Arnold-Forster, Parliamentary Secretary to {480} the
Admiralty, admitted that "there was need for reinforcement in the
intellectual equipment which directed or ought to direct the enormous
forces of the Empire." That was one way of putting it; he was
perfectly right in affirming that (in similar language) a thinking
department was required in which the best sailors and soldiers should
combine to formulate the requirements of Imperial defence for the
information of the Cabinet.
The Government would then (at least) know what the requirements were.
In default of that knowledge, Ministers were open to the reproach
expressed bluntly enough by _The Saturday Review_ at the time (28th
June, 1902):
"That the one essential qualification for commanding a great service
such as our Navy should be an utter and entire ignorance of it and of
everything belonging to it, so that this commander may approach the
consideration of all questions relating to its well-being with absolute
impartiality and perfect freedom from prejudice, is surely one of the
most monstrous propositions ever put before men who were not candidates
for Government departments at Yarmouth" (lunatic asylum).
In the following month (July) I asked Mr. Balfour (who succeeded Lord
Salisbury as Prime Minister) in Parliament a question based upon Mr.
Arnold-Forster's statement aforesaid, as it was the considered
admission of a member of Government. The question was: "Whether the
attention of the Government had been given to the need for some
reinforcement of the intellectual equipment for directing the forces of
the Empire and for better preparation in advance with regard to the
defence of the Empire."
Mr. Balfour replied that he would be delighted to increase in any way
the intellectual equipment in connection with this or any other
subject. Upon being further asked what steps he proposed to take, Mr.
Balfour merely added that he would be glad to avail himself of such
talent as may be available.
The Press thereupon accused the Prime Minister of {481} frivolity. In
December (1902), however, Mr. Balfour, in reply to another question
asked by me in the House, said that the "whole subject is at this
moment engaging the very earnest attention of the Government." There
was already in existence a Committee of Defence constituted by Lord
Salisbury, as described in a previous chapter, but apparently it had
only met on one occasion, nor could anyone discover that it had ever
done anything. In 1902, nearly twelve years had elapsed since the
Hartington Commission had recommended the "formation of a Naval and
Military Council, which should probably be presided over by the Prime
Minister, and consist of the Parliamentary Heads of the two Services,
and their principal professional advisers.... It would be essential to
the usefulness of such a Council and to the interests of the country
that the proceedings and decisions should be duly recorded, instances
having occurred in which Cabinet decisions have been differently
understood by the two departments and have become practically a dead
letter."
It may be hoped, indeed, that records are kept of the meetings of the
Committee of Imperial Defence. They should contain some singularly
interesting information when the time comes for their publication,
which will be when the nation insists, as it does insist now and then,
upon finding a scapegoat.
To Mr. Balfour belongs the credit of having constituted the Committee
of Imperial Defence. After the experiences of the South African war it
could scarcely be argued that some such body was not needed. Here,
then, was a ripe opportunity, not only for co-ordinating the
administration of the two Services, not only for rightly estimating the
requirements of Imperial defence, but for lifting the Services above
party politics. That opportunity was lost. The Committee of Imperial
Defence immediately became, what it has remained, a sub-committee of
the Cabinet, wholly in subjection to party politics.
But in 1903, another and a highly important step was {482} taken
towards organisation for war, in the formation of the Commercial Branch
of the Intelligence Department at the Admiralty, charged with the duty
of dealing with the relations of the Navy and the mercantile marine in
time of war and with the protection of commerce and food supply.
A few years later, the Department was abolished during a period of
confusion; but it was restored as part of the War Staff soon after the
constitution of that body.
It will be observed that the utility of the Committee of Imperial