THE EFFECT OF DEFICIENT COAST-DEFENCE UPON THE MOVEMENTS OF
THE NAVY.--THE MILITARY AND NAVAL CONDITIONS OF SPAIN
AT THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR.
The unsatisfactory condition of the coast defences, whereby the navy
lost the support of its complementary factor in the scheme of national
sea power, imposed a vicious, though inevitable, change in the
initial plan of campaign, which should have been directed in full
force against the coast of Cuba. The four newer monitors on the
Atlantic coast, if distributed among our principal ports, were not
adequate, singly, to resist the attack which was suggested by the
possibilities of the case--though remote--and still more by the panic
among certain of our citizens. On the other hand, if the four were
massed and centrally placed, which is the correct disposition of any
mobile force, military or naval, intended to counteract the attack of
an enemy whose particular line of approach is as yet uncertain, their
sluggishness and defective nautical qualities would make them
comparatively inefficient. New York, for instance, is a singularly
central and suitable point, relatively to our northern Atlantic
seaboard, in which to station a division intended to meet and thwart
the plans of a squadron like Cervera's, if directed against our coast
ports, in accordance with the fertile imaginations of evil which were
the fashion in that hour. Did the enemy appear off either Boston, the
Delaware, or the Chesapeake, he could not effect material injury
before a division of ships of the _Oregon_ class would be upon him;
and within the limits named are found the major external commercial
interests of the country as well as the ocean approaches along which
they travel. But had the monitors been substituted for battleships,
not to speak of their greater slowness, their inferiority as steady
gun-platforms would have placed them at a serious disadvantage if the
enemy were met outside, as he perfectly well might be.
It was probably such considerations as these, though the writer was
not privy to them, that determined the division of the battle fleet,
and the confiding to the section styled the Flying Squadron the
defence of the Atlantic coast for the time being. The monitors were
all sent to Key West, where they would be at hand to act against
Havana; the narrowness of the field in which that city, Key West, and
Matanzas are comprised making their slowness less of a drawback, while
the moderate weather which might be expected to prevail would permit
their shooting to be less inaccurate. The station of the Flying
Squadron in Hampton Roads, though not so central as New York
relatively to the more important commercial interests, upon which, if
upon any, the Spanish attack might fall, was more central as regards
the whole coast; and, above all, was nearer than New York to Havana
and to Puerto Rico. The time element also entered the calculations in
another way, for a fleet of heavy ships is more certainly able to put
to sea at a moment's notice, in all conditions of tide and weather,
from the Chesapeake than from New York Bay. In short, the position
chosen may be taken to indicate that, in the opinion of the Navy
Department and its advisers, Cervera was not likely to attempt a dash
at an Atlantic port, and that it was more important to be able to
reach the West Indies speedily than to protect New York or Boston,--a
conclusion which the writer entirely shared.
The country, however, should not fail to note that the division of the
armored fleet into two sections, nearly a thousand miles apart, though
probably the best that could be done under all the circumstances of
the moment, was contrary to sound practice; and that the conditions
which made it necessary should not have existed. Thus, deficient coast
protection reacts unfavorably upon the war fleet, which in all its
movements should be free from any responsibility for the mere safety
of the ports it quits. Under such conditions as then obtained, it
might have been possible for Spain to force our entire battle fleet
from its offensive undertaking against Cuba, and to relegate it to
mere coast defence. Had Cervera's squadron, instead of being
despatched alone to the Antilles, been recalled to Spain, as it should
have been, and there reinforced by the two armored ships which
afterwards went to Suez with Cámara, the approach of this compact body
would have compelled our fleet to concentrate; for each of our
divisions of three ships--prior to the arrival of the _Oregon_--would
have been too weak to hazard an engagement with the enemy's six. When
thus concentrated, where should it be placed? Off Havana, or at
Hampton Roads? It could not be at both. The answer undoubtedly should
be, "Off Havana;" for there it would be guarding the most important
part of the enemy's coast, blocking the access to it of the Spanish
fleet, and at the same time covering Key West, our naval base of
operations. But if the condition of our coast defences at all
corresponded to the tremors of our seaport citizens, the Government
manifestly would be unable to hold the fleet thus at the front. Had
it, on the contrary, been impossible for an enemy's fleet to approach
nearer than three miles to our sea-coast without great and evident
danger of having ships damaged which could not be replaced, and of
wasting ammunition at ranges too long even for bombardments, the
Spanish battle fleet would have kept away, and would have pursued its
proper object of supporting their campaign in Cuba by driving off our
fleet--if it could. It is true that no amount of fortification will
secure the coasting trade beyond easy gunshot of the works; but as the
enemy's battle fleet could not have devoted itself for long to
molesting the coasters--because our fleet would thereby be drawn to
the spot--that duty must have devolved upon vessels of another class,
against which we also would have provided, and did provide, by the
squadron of cruisers under Commodore Howell. In short, proper coast
defence, the true and necessary complement of an efficient navy,
releases the latter for its proper work,--offensive, upon the open
seas, or off the enemy's shores.
[Illustration: Map of Cuba (map)]
The subject receives further illumination when we consider, in
addition to the hypothetical case just discussed,--the approach of six
Spanish ships,--the actual conditions at the opening of the campaign.
We had chosen Cuba for our objective, had begun our operations,
Cervera was on his way across the ocean, and our battle fleet was
divided and posted as stated. It was reasonable for us to estimate
each division of our ships--one comprising the _New York_, _Iowa_, and
_Indiana_, the other the _Brooklyn_, _Massachusetts_, and _Texas_--as
able to meet Cervera's four, these being of a class slightly inferior
to the best of ours. We might at least flatter ourselves that, to use
a frequent phrase of Nelson's, by the time they had soundly beaten one
of these groups, they would give us no more trouble for the rest of
the year. We could, therefore, with perfect military propriety, have
applied the two divisions to separate tasks on the Cuban coast, if our
own coast had been adequately fortified.
The advantage--nay, the necessity--of thus distributing our
battleships, having only four enemies to fear, will appear from a
glance at the map of Cuba. It will there be seen that the island is
particularly narrow abreast of Havana, and that from there, for a
couple of hundred miles to the eastward, extends the only tolerably
developed railroad system, by which the capital is kept in
communication with the seaports, on the north coast as far as Sagua la
Grande, and on the south with Cienfuegos and Batabano. This
narrowness, and the comparative facility of communication indicated by
the railroads, enabled Spain, during her occupation, effectually to
prevent combined movements between the insurgents in the east and
those in the west; a power which Weyler endeavored to increase by the
_trocha_ system,--a ditch or ditches, with closely supporting works,
extending across the island. Individuals, or small parties, might slip
by unperceived; but it should have been impossible for any serious
co-operation to take place. The coast-wise railroads, again, kept
Havana and the country adjacent to them in open, if limited,
communication with the sea, so long as any one port upon their lines
remained unblockaded. For reasons such as these, in this belt of land,
from Havana to Sagua and Cienfuegos, lay the chief strength of the
Spanish tenure, which centred upon Havana; and in it the greatest
part of the Spanish army was massed. Until, therefore, we were ready
to invade, which should not have been before the close of the rainy
season, the one obvious course open to us was to isolate the capital
and the army from the sea, through which supplies of all kinds--daily
bread, almost, of food and ammunition--were introduced; for Cuba, in
these respects, produces little.
To perfect such isolation, however, it was necessary not only to place
before each port armed cruisers able to stop merchant steamers, but
also to give to the vessels so stationed, as well on the south as on
the north side, a backbone of support by the presence of an armored
fleet, which should both close the great ports--Havana and
Cienfuegos--and afford a rallying-point to the smaller ships, if
driven in by the appearance of Cervera's division. The main
fleet--three armored ships--on the north was thus used, although the
blockade, from the fewness of available cruisers, was not at first
extended beyond Cardenas. On the south a similar body--the Flying
Squadron--should from the first have been stationed before
Cienfuegos; for each division, as has been said, could with military
propriety have been risked singly against Cervera's four ships. This
was not done, because it was possible--though most improbable--that
the Spanish squadron might attempt one of our own ports; because we
had not perfect confidence in the harbor defences; and because, also,
of the popular outcry. Consequently, the extremely important port of
Cienfuegos, a back door to Havana, was blockaded only by a few light
cruisers; and when the Spanish squadron was reported at Curaçao, these
had to be withdrawn. One only was left to maintain in form the
blockade which had been declared; and she had instructions to clear
out quickly if the enemy appeared. Neither one, nor a dozen, of such
ships would have been the slightest impediment to Cervera's entering
Cienfuegos, raising our blockade by force; and this, it is needless to
add, would have been hailed in Spain and throughout the Continent of
Europe as a distinct defeat for us,--which, in truth, it would have
been, carrying with it consequences political as well as military.
This naval mishap, had it occurred, would have been due mainly to
inadequate armament of our coasts; for to retain the Flying Squadron
in the Chesapeake, merely as a guard to the coasting trade, would have
been a serious military error, subordinating an offensive
operation--off Cienfuegos--to one merely defensive, and not absolutely
vital. "The best protection against an enemy's fire," said Farragut,
"is a well-directed fire from our own guns." Analogically, the best
defence for one's own shores is to harass and threaten seriously those
of the opponent; but this best defence cannot be employed to the
utmost, if the inferior, passive defence of fortification has been
neglected. The fencer who wears also a breastplate may be looser in
his guard. Seaports cannot strike beyond the range of their guns; but
if the great commercial ports and naval stations can strike
effectively so far, the fleet can launch into the deep rejoicing,
knowing that its home interests, behind the buckler of the fixed
defences, are safe till it returns.
The broader determining conditions, and the consequent dispositions
made by the Government of the United States and its naval authorities,
in the recent campaign, have now been stated and discussed. In them
is particularly to be noted the crippling effect upon naval operations
produced by the consciousness of inadequate coast defences of the
permanent type. The sane conclusion to be drawn is, that while
sea-coast fortification can never take the place of fleets; that
while, as a defence even, it, being passive, is far inferior to the
active measure of offensive defence, which protects its own interests
by carrying offensive war out on to the sea, and, it may be, to the
enemy's shores; nevertheless, by the fearless freedom of movement it
permits to the navy, it is to the latter complementary,--completes it;
the two words being etymologically equivalent.
The other comments hitherto made upon our initial plan of
operations--for example, the impropriety of attempting simultaneous
movements against Puerto Rico and Cuba, and the advisability or
necessity, under the same conditions, of moving against both
Cienfuegos and Havana by the measure of a blockade--were simply
special applications of general principles of warfare, universally
true, to particular instances in this campaign. They address
themselves, it may be said, chiefly to the soldier or seaman, as
illustrating his especial business of directing war; and while their
value to the civilian cannot be denied,--for whatever really
enlightens public opinion in a country like ours facilitates military
operations,--nevertheless the function of coast defence, as
contributory to sea power, is a lesson most necessary to be absorbed
by laymen; for it, as well as the maintenance of the fleet, is in this
age the work of peace times, when the need of preparation for war is
too little heeded to be understood. The illustrations of the
embarrassment actually incurred from this deficiency in the late
hostilities are of the nature of an object lesson, and as such should
be pondered.
At the same time, however, that attention is thus called to the
inevitable and far-reaching effect of such antecedent neglects, shown
in directions where men would not ordinarily have expected them, it is
necessary to check exaggeration of coast defence, in extent or in
degree, by remarking that in any true conception of war,
fortification, defence, inland and sea-coast alike, is of value merely
in so far as it conduces to offensive operations. This is
conspicuously illustrated by our recent experience. The great evil of
our deficiencies in coast armament was that they neutralized
temporarily a large part of our navy; prevented our sending it to
Cuba; made possible that Cervera's squadron, during quite an interval,
might do this or that thing of several things thus left open to him,
the result of which would have been to encourage the enemy, and
possibly to produce political action by our ill-wishers abroad.
Directly upon this consideration--of the use that the Flying Squadron
might have been, if not held up for coast defence--follows the further
reflection how much more useful still would have been a third
squadron; that is, a navy half as large again as we then had.
Expecting Cervera's force alone, a navy of such size, free from
anxiety about coast defence, could have barred to him San Juan de
Puerto Rico as well as Cienfuegos and Havana; or had Cámara been
joined to Cervera, as he should have been, such a force would have
closed both Cienfuegos and Havana with divisions that need not have
feared the combined enemy. If, further, there had been a fourth
squadron--our coast defence in each case remaining the same--our
evident naval supremacy would probably have kept the Spanish fleet in
Europe. Not unlikely there would have been no war; in which event, the
anti-imperialist may observe there would, thanks to a great and
prepared navy, have been no question of the Philippines, and possibly
none of Hawaii.
In short, it is with coast defence and the navy as it is with numbers
_versus_ size in battleships. Both being necessary, the question of
proportion demands close attention, but in both cases the same single
principle dominates: offensive power, not defensive, determines the
issues of war. In the solution of the problem, the extent to be given
coast defence by fortification depends, as do all military decisions,
whether of preparation or of actual warfare, upon certain
well-recognized principles; and for a given country or coast, since
the natural conditions remain permanent, the general dispositions, and
the relative power of the several works, if determined by men of
competent military knowledge, will remain practically constant during
long periods. It is true, doubtless, that purely military conclusions
must submit to some modification, in deference to the liability of a
population to panics. The fact illustrates again the urgent necessity
for the spread of sound elementary ideas on military subjects among
the people at large; but, if the great coast cities are satisfied of
their safety, a government will be able to resist the unreasonable
clamor--for such it is--of small towns and villages, which are
protected by their own insignificance. The navy is a more variable
element; for the demands upon it depend upon external conditions of a
political character, which may undergo changes not only sudden, but
extensive. The results of the war with Spain, for instance, have
affected but little the question of passive coast defence, by
fortification or otherwise; but they have greatly altered the
circumstances which hitherto have dictated the size of our active
forces, both land and sea. Upon the greater or less strength of the
navy depends, in a maritime conflict, the aggressive efficiency which
shortens war, and so mitigates its evils. In the general question of
preparation for naval war, therefore, the important centres and
internal waterways of commerce must receive local protection, where
they are exposed to attack from the sea; the rest must trust, and can
in such case safely trust, to the fleet, upon which, as the offensive
arm, all other expenditure for military maritime efficiency should be
made. The preposterous and humiliating terrors of the past months,
that a hostile fleet would waste coal and ammunition in shelling
villages and bathers on a beach, we may hope will not recur.
Before proceeding to study the operations of the war, the military and
naval conditions of the enemy at its outbreak must be briefly
considered.
Spain, being a state that maintains at all times a regular army,
respectable in numbers as well as in personal valor, had at the
beginning, and, from the shortness of the war, continued to the end to
have a decided land superiority over ourselves. Whatever we might hope
eventually to produce in the way of an effective army, large enough
for the work in Cuba, time was needed for the result, and time was not
allowed. In one respect only the condition of the Peninsula seems to
have resembled our own; that was in the inadequacy of the coast
defences. The matter there was even more serious than with us,
because not only were the preparations less, but several large
sea-coast cities--for instance, Barcelona, Malaga, Cadiz--lie
immediately upon the sea-shore; whereas most of ours are at the head
of considerable estuaries, remote from the entrance. The exposure of
important commercial centres to bombardment, therefore, was for them
much greater. This consideration was indeed so evident, that there was
in the United States Navy a perceptible current of feeling in favor of
carrying maritime war to the coast of Spain, and to its commercial
approaches.
The objection to this, on the part of the Navy Department, was, with
slight modifications, the same as to the undertaking of operations
against Puerto Rico. There was not at our disposition, either in
armored ships or in cruisers, any superfluity of force over and above
the requirements of the projected blockade of Cuba. To divert ships
from this object, therefore, would be false to the golden rule of
concentration of effort,--to the single eye that gives light in
warfare. Moreover, in such a movement, the reliance, as represented in
the writer's hearing, would have been upon moral effect, upon the
dismay of the enemy; for we should soon have come to the end of our
physical coercion. As Nelson said of bombarding Copenhagen, "We should
have done our worst, and no nearer friends." The influence of moral
effect in war is indisputable, and often tremendous; but like some
drugs in the pharmacopoeia, it is very uncertain in its action. The
other party may not, as the boys say, "scare worth a cent;" whereas
material forces can be closely measured beforehand, and their results
reasonably predicted. This statement, generally true, is historically
especially true of the Spaniard, attacked in his own land. The
tenacity of the race has never come out so strongly as under such
conditions, as was witnessed in the old War of the Spanish Succession,
and during the usurpation of Napoleon.
On the other hand, such an enterprise on our part, if directed against
Spanish commerce on the seas, as was suggested by several excellent
officers, would have had but a trivial objective. The commerce of
Spain was cut up, root and branch, by our expeditions against her
colonies, Cuba and Manila; for her most important trade depended upon
monopoly of the colonial markets. The slight stream of traffic
maintained in Spanish bottoms between the English Channel and the
Peninsula, was so small that it could readily have been transferred to
neutral ships, whose flag we had for this war engaged should protect
enemy's goods. Under these circumstances, the coasts of the
Philippines and of Cuba were to us the coast of Spain, and far more
conveniently so than that of the home country would have been. A
Spanish merchant captain, writing from Barcelona as early as the 7th
of May, had said: "At this moment we have shut up in this port the
[steam] fleets of five transatlantic companies," which he names. "The
sailing-vessels are tied up permanently. Several [named] ships have
fallen into the hands of the enemy. Meantime the blockade of Cuba,
Puerto Rico, and Manila continues, at least for our flag, and maritime
commerce is at a standstill. In Barcelona some foreign firms,
exporters to the Philippines, have failed, as well as several
custom-house brokers, owing to the total cessation of mercantile
movement. The losses already suffered by our trade are incalculable,
amounting to much more than the millions needed to maintain a
half-dozen armored ships, which would have prevented the Yankees from
daring so much." These vessels continued to lie idle in Barcelona
until the dread of Commodore Watson's threatened approach caused them
to be sent to Marseilles, seeking the protection of the neutral port.
A few weeks later the same Spanish writer comments: "The result of our
mistakes," in the management of the navy, "is the loss of the markets
of Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the Philippines, and, in consequence, the
death of our merchant marine." Inquiries were addressed by the state
to the Chambers of Commerce, for suggestions as to the opening of new
markets, to compensate for the existing suspension of communications
with "the over-sea provinces."
With such results from our operations in the Antilles and the
Philippines, there was no inducement, and indeed no justification, for
sending cruisers across the ocean, until we had enough and to spare
for the blockade of Cuba and Puerto Rico. This was at no time the
case, up to the close of the war, owing to a combination of causes.
The work of paralyzing Spanish trade was being effectually done by
the same measures that tended to strangle the Spanish armies in Cuba
and the Philippines, and which, when fully developed, would entirely
sever their necessary communications with the outside world. Besides
all this, the concentration of our efforts upon Cuba, with a
subsequent slight extension to the single port of San Juan in Puerto
Rico, imposed upon Spain the burden of sustaining the war between
three and four thousand miles from home, and spared us the like
additional strain. Every consideration so far entertained, therefore,
of energy as well as of prudence, dictated the application of all the
pressure at our disposal at the beginning of hostilities, and until
the destruction of Cervera's squadron, upon Cuba, and in a very minor
degree upon Puerto Rico. Indeed, the ships placed before San Juan were
not for blockade, properly so called, but to check any mischievous
display of energy by the torpedo cruiser within.
After thus noting briefly the conditions of the enemy's coast defences
and commerce, there remains to consider the one other element of his
sea power--the combatant navy--with regard to its force and to its
disposition when war began.
As was before said, the disparity between the armored fleets of the
two nations was nominally inconsiderable; and the Spaniards possessed
one extremely valuable--and by us unrivalled--advantage in a nearly
homogeneous group of five[1] armored cruisers, very fast, and very
similar both in nautical qualities and in armament. It is difficult to
estimate too highly the possibilities open to such a body of ships,
regarded as a "fleet in being," to use an expression that many of our
readers may have seen, but perhaps scarcely fully understood.
The phrase "fleet in being," having within recent years gained much
currency in naval writing, demands--like the word "jingo"--preciseness
of definition; and this, in general acceptance, it has not yet
attained. It remains, therefore, somewhat vague, and so occasions
misunderstandings between men whose opinions perhaps do not materially
differ. The writer will not attempt to define, but a brief
explanation of the term and its origin may not be amiss. It was first
used, in 1690, by the British admiral Lord Torrington, when defending
his course in declining to engage decisively, with an inferior force,
a French fleet, then dominating in the Channel, and under cover of
which it was expected that a descent upon the English coast would be
made by a great French army. "Had I fought otherwise," he said, "our
fleet had been totally lost, and the kingdom had lain open to
invasion. As it was, most men were in fear that the French would
invade; but I was always of another opinion, for I always said that
whilst we had a fleet in being, they would not dare to make an
attempt."
A "fleet in being," therefore, is one the existence and maintenance of
which, although inferior, on or near the scene of operations, is a
perpetual menace to the various more or less exposed interests of the
enemy, who cannot tell when a blow may fall, and who is therefore
compelled to restrict his operations, otherwise possible, until that
fleet can be destroyed or neutralized. It corresponds very closely to
"a position on the flank and rear" of an enemy, where the presence of
a smaller force, as every military student knows, harasses, and may
even paralyze offensive movements. When such a force is extremely
mobile, as a fleet of armored cruisers may be, its power of mischief
is very great; potentially, it is forever on the flank and rear,
threatening the lines of communications. It is indeed as a threat to
communications that the "fleet in being" is chiefly formidable.
The theory received concrete and convincing illustration during the
recent hostilities, from the effect exerted--and justly exerted--upon
our plans and movements by Cervera's squadron, until there had been
assembled before Santiago a force at once so strong and so numerous as
to make his escape very improbable. Even so, when a telegram was
received from a capable officer that he had identified by night, off
the north coast of Cuba, an armored cruiser,--which, if of that class,
was most probably an enemy,--the sailing of Shafter's expedition was
stopped until the report could be verified. So much for the positive,
material influence--in the judgment of the writer, the reasonable
influence--of a "fleet in being." As regards the moral effect, the
effect upon the imagination, it is scarcely necessary more than to
allude to the extraordinary play of the fancy, the kaleidoscopic
effects elicited from our own people, and from some foreign critics,
in propounding dangers for ourselves and ubiquity for Cervera. Against
the infection of such tremors it is one of the tasks of those in
responsibility to guard themselves and, if possible, their people.
"Don't make pictures for yourself," was Napoleon's warning to his
generals. "Every naval operation since I became head of the government
has failed, because my admirals see double and have learned--where I
don't know--that war can be made without running risks."
The probable value of a "fleet in being" has, in the opinion of the
writer, been much overstated; for, even at the best, the game of
evasion, which this is, if persisted in, can have but one issue. The
superior force will in the end run the inferior to earth. In the
meanwhile, however, vital time may have been lost. It is conceivable,
for instance, that Cervera's squadron, if thoroughly effective, might,
by swift and well-concealed movements, have detained our fleet in the
West Indies until the hurricane of September, 1898, swept over the
Caribbean. We had then no reserve to replace armored ships lost or
damaged. But, for such persistence of action, there is needed in each
unit of the "fleet in being" an efficiency rarely attainable, and
liable to be lost by unforeseen accident at a critical moment. Where
effect, nay, safety, depends upon mere celerity of movement, as in
retreat, a crippled ship means a lost ship; or a lost fleet, if the
body sticks to its disabled member. Such efficiency it is probable
Cervera's division never possessed. The length of its passage across
the Atlantic, however increased by the embarrassment of frequently
recoaling the torpedo destroyers, so far over-passed the extreme
calculations of our naval authorities, that ready credence was given
to an apparently authentic report that it had returned to Spain; the
more so that such concentration was strategically correct, and it was
incorrect to adventure an important detachment so far from home,
without the reinforcement it might have received in Cadiz. This delay,
in ships whose individual speed had originally been very high, has
been commonly attributed in our service to the inefficiency of the
engine-room force; and this opinion is confirmed by a Spanish officer
writing in their "Revista de la Marina." "The Americans," he says,
"keep their ships cruising constantly, in every sea, and therefore
have a large and qualified engine-room force. We have but few
machinists, and are almost destitute of firemen." This inequality,
however, is fundamentally due to the essential differences of
mechanical capacity and development in the two nations. An amusing
story was told the writer some years ago by one of our consuls in
Cuba. Making a rather rough passage between two ports, he saw an
elderly Cuban or Spanish gentleman peering frequently into the
engine-room, with evident uneasiness. When asked the cause of his
concern, the reply was, "I don't feel comfortable unless the man in
charge of the engines talks English to them."
When to the need of constant and sustained ability to move at high
speed is added the necessity of frequent recoaling, allowing the
hostile navy time to come up, it is evident that the active use of a
"fleet in being," however perplexing to the enemy, must be both
anxious and precarious to its own commander. The contest is one of
strategic wits, and it is quite possible that the stronger, though
slower, force, centrally placed, may, in these days of cables, be able
to receive word and to corner its antagonist before the latter can
fill his bunkers. Of this fact we should probably have received a very
convincing illustration, had a satisfactory condition of our coast
defences permitted the Flying Squadron to be off Cienfuegos, or even
off Havana, instead of in Hampton Roads. Cervera's entrance to
Santiago was known to us within twenty-four hours. In twenty-four more
it could have been communicated off Cienfuegos by a fast despatch
boat, after which less than forty-eight would have placed our division
before Santiago. The uncertainty felt by Commodore Schley, when he
arrived off Cienfuegos, as to whether the Spanish division was inside
or no, would not have existed had his squadron been previously
blockading; and his consequent delay of over forty-eight hours--with
the rare chance thus offered to Cervera--would not have occurred. To
coal four great ships within that time was probably beyond the
resources of Santiago; whereas the speed predicated for our own
movements is rather below than above the dispositions contemplated to
ensure it.
The great end of a war fleet, however, is not to chase, nor to fly,
but to control the seas. Had Cervera escaped our pursuit at Santiago,
it would have been only to be again paralyzed at Cienfuegos or at
Havana. When speed, not force, is the reliance, destruction may be
postponed, but can be escaped only by remaining in port. Let it not,
therefore, be inferred, from the possible, though temporary, effect of
a "fleet in being," that speed is the chief of all factors in the
battleship. This plausible, superficial notion, too easily accepted in
these days of hurry and of unreflecting dependence upon machinery as
the all in all, threatens much harm to the future efficiency of the
navy. Not speed, but power of offensive action, is the dominant factor
in war. The decisive preponderant element of great land forces has
ever been the infantry, which, it is needless to say, is also the
slowest. The homely summary of the art of war, "To get there first
with the most men," has with strange perverseness been so distorted
in naval--and still more in popular--conception, that the second and
more important consideration has been subordinated to the former and
less essential. Force does not exist for mobility, but mobility for
force. It is of no use to get there first unless, when the enemy in
turn arrives, you have also the most men,--the greater force. This is
especially true of the sea, because there inferiority of force--of gun
power--cannot be compensated, as on land it at times may be, by
judiciously using accidents of the ground. I do not propose to fall
into an absurdity of my own by questioning the usefulness of higher
speed, _provided_ the increase is not purchased at the expense of
strictly offensive power; but the time has come to say plainly that
its value is being exaggerated; that it is in the battleship secondary
to gun power; that a battle fleet can never attain, nor maintain, the
highest rate of any ship in it, except of that one which at the moment
is the slowest, for it is a commonplace of naval action that fleet
speed is that of the slowest ship; that not exaggerated speed, but
uniform speed--sustained speed--is the requisite of the battle fleet;
that it is not machinery, as is often affirmed, but brains and guns,
that win battles and control the sea. The true speed of war is not
headlong precipitancy, but the unremitting energy which wastes no
time.
For the reasons that have been given, the safest, though not the most
effective, disposition of an inferior "fleet in being" is to lock it
up in an impregnable port or ports, imposing upon the enemy the
intense and continuous strain of watchfulness against escape. This it
was that Torrington, the author of the phrase, proposed for the time
to do. Thus it was that Napoleon, to some extent before Trafalgar, but
afterward with set and exclusive purpose, used the French Navy, which
he was continually augmenting, and yet never, to the end of his reign,
permitted again to undertake any serious expedition. The mere
maintenance of several formidable detachments, in apparent readiness,
from the Scheldt round to Toulon, presented to the British so many
possibilities of mischief that they were compelled to keep constantly
before each of the French ports a force superior to that within,
entailing an expense and an anxiety by which the Emperor hoped to
exhaust their endurance. To some extent this was Cervera's position
and function in Santiago, whence followed logically the advisability
of a land attack upon the port, to force to a decisive issue a
situation which was endurable only if incurable. "The destruction of
Cervera's squadron," justly commented an Italian writer, before the
result was known, "is the only really decisive fact that can result
from the expedition to Santiago, because it will reduce to impotence
the naval power of Spain. The determination of the conflict will
depend throughout upon the destruction of the Spanish sea power, and
not upon territorial descents, although the latter may aggravate the
situation." The American admiral from before Santiago, when urging the
expedition of a land force to make the bay untenable, telegraphed,
"The destruction of this squadron will end the war;" and it did.
In other respects it is probable that the Spanish admiral had little
confidence in a squadron which, whatever the courage or other
qualities of the officers and seamen, had never manoeuvred together
until it left the Cape de Verde Islands. Since its destruction, a
writer in a Spanish naval magazine has told the following incident:
"A little more than a year ago we visited General Cervera in La
Carraca, [the Cadiz arsenal], and we said to him: 'You appear to be
indicated, by professional opinion, for the command of the squadron in
case war is declared.' 'In that case,' he replied, 'I shall accept,
knowing, however, that I am going to a Trafalgar.' 'And how could that
disaster be avoided?' 'By allowing me to expend beforehand fifty
thousand tons of coal in evolutions and ten thousand projectiles in
target practice. Otherwise we shall go to a Trafalgar. Remember what I
say.'"
It is curious to contrast with this well-founded fear of an
experienced and gallant officer, expressed in private conversation,
the opinion of another Spanish officer, lately Minister of Marine,
reported to the Madrid public through a newspaper,--the "Heraldo," of
April 6, 1898. It illustrates, further, the curious illusions
entertained in high quarters in Spain:
"We had an opportunity to-day of talking for a long time with General
Beranger, the last Secretary of the Navy under the Conservative
Cabinet. To the questions which we directed to him concerning the
conflict pending with the United States, he was kind enough to inform
us that he confided absolutely in the triumph of our naval forces....
'We shall conquer on the sea, and I am now going to give you my
reasons. The first of these is the remarkable discipline that prevails
on our warships; and the second, as soon as fire is opened, the crews
of the American ships will commence to desert, since we all know that
among them are people of all nationalities. Ship against ship,
therefore, a failure is not to be feared. I believe that the squadron
detained at Cape de Verde, and particularly the destroyers, should
have, and could have, continued the voyage to Cuba, since they have
nothing to fear from the American fleet.'"
The review from which Cervera's opinion is quoted has, since the
disasters to the Spanish Navy, been full of complaints and of detailed
statements concerning the neglect of the navy, both in its material
and in drills, during the antecedent months of peace, owing to the
practice of a misplaced, if necessary, economy. But that economy, it
is justly argued, would not have been required to a disabling degree,
if so disproportionate an amount of money had not been expended upon
the army, by a state whose great colonial system could in war be
sustained only by a fleet. "In more than a year," writes a captain in
the Spanish Navy, "we have had only one target practice, and that
limited in extent, in order to expend the least possible amount of
ammunition." The short brilliant moments of triumph in war are the
sign and the seal of the long hours of obscure preparations, of which
target practice is but one item. Had even the nominal force of Spain
been kept in efficient condition for immediate action, the task of the
United States would have been greatly prolonged and far from so easy
as it has been since declared by those among our people who delight to
belittle the great work our country has just achieved, and to
undervalue the magnanimity of its resolution to put a stop to outrages
at our doors which were well said to have become intolerable. Neither
by land nor by sea was the state of the case so judged by professional
men, either at home or abroad. It was indeed evident that, if we
persevered, there could be but one issue; but this might have been
postponed, by an active opponent, long enough to have disheartened our
nation, if it was as easily to be discouraged by the difficulties and
dangers, now past, as it is in some quarters represented again to be
by the problems arising out of the war and its conquests. Such
discouragement, perplexity, and consequent frustration of the
adversary's purposes are indeed the prime function of a "fleet in
being,"--to create and to maintain moral effect, in short, rather than
physical, unless indeed the enemy, yielding to moral effect, divides
his forces in such wise as to give a chance for a blow at one portion
of them. The tendency to this also received illustration in our war.
"Our sea-coast," said a person then in authority to the present
writer, "was in a condition of unreasoning panic, and fought to have
little squadrons scattered along it everywhere, according to the
theory of defence always favored by stupid terror." The "stupidity,"
by all military experience, was absolute--unqualified; but the Navy
Department succeeded in withstanding the "terror"--the moral
effect--so far as to compromise on the Flying Squadron; a rational
solution, though not unimpeachable. We thus, instead of a half-dozen
naval groups, had only two, the combination of which might perhaps be
effected in time enough.