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The opening years of the twentieth century are now a controversial period for historians of the Royal Navy; but this was not always so. In the traditional canon of naval history, as first articulated in scholarly fashion by E. L. Woodward in 1935 and by Arthur Marder in 1940, the story was a straightforward one. The appointment of Rear Admiral Alfred Tirpitz as state secretary at Germany's Imperial Navy Office, leading as it did to the passage of the First and, more especially, the Second German Navy Laws – the latter of which was passed in a blaze of highly revealing and very noisy Anglophobia – alerted both the British people and the nation's naval authorities to the hostility and ambition on the other side of the North Sea. The consequences of this revelation were tremendous. Slowly but surely, as the German navy increased in size and importance, the British Admiralty refocused its gaze away from those places that had previously occupied its attention, such as the dockyards of Brest, Cherbourg, Toulon, Kronstadt, Sevastopol and Vladivostok – the main ports of its traditional rivals, France and Russia – and instead gave serious thought, for the first time, to the build-up that was taking place in Kiel and Wilhelmshaven, the principal centres of the new, burgeoning and deeply threatening naval power of the Second Reich. In this shift of emphasis, the seeds of the Anglo-German naval race were sown. Although little changed immediately, this new focus ultimately bore significant fruit. In particular, with the elevation of Admiral Sir John Fisher to the post of First Sea Lord in October 1904, the impetus was created, courtesy of Fisher's forceful and determined personality, for a series of wholesale reforms designed to ready Britain to face down the German challenge. Foremost amongst these was the reorganisation of Britain's naval assets. At that point, the Royal Navy's various fleets and squadrons were scattered across the globe with a view to protecting a diverse collection of imperial interests; but with Germany now identified as the main threat and with the locus of that threat placed directly adjacent to the British Isles, a relocation of British forces that positioned more units closer to the domestic heartland became essential.
The year 1908 would usher in a momentous and extremely tense period in Anglo-German relations. As far as the public was concerned, the key issue was the naval scare that broke out suddenly and with great intensity in early 1909 over fears that the German navy was secretly accelerating its construction of new dreadnought battleships in order surreptitiously to overtake the Royal Navy in the number of these vessels. This ‘acceleration’ crisis became a major political event in Britain, dividing both the political parties and the cabinet over the veracity of the claims and the best means of responding to them. The Unionist opposition demanded the immediate ordering of eight new dreadnoughts – a demand epitomised by the famous slogan ‘We want eight and we won't wait’ – while the so-called ‘economists’ in the Liberal Cabinet, led by Lloyd George and Churchill, believed that four new vessels would be more than sufficient. Eight would in the end be ordered, albeit via the face-saving formula of four regular dreadnoughts authorised immediately plus four contingent ones to be laid down subsequently ‘if needed’.
The origins of this crisis have long been controversial among historians. It was fashionable, at one stage, to assume that the clamour for new dreadnoughts had been whipped up artificially by the naval lobby in order to reverse several years of reduced spending on new construction. In a well-known phrase, Lloyd George dismissed the information on which the panic was based as little more than ‘contractors’ gossip’. However, more recent research has suggested that the raw intelligence received by the Admiralty from mid-1908 onwards was genuinely troubling both to the Naval Intelligence Department and the Board, and that the demands of the Sea Lords made perfect sense in the context of the material they had received.
Several documents in this chapter illustrate the dynamic of the crisis as well as shining an interesting light on some of the difficulties of interpreting it. Lloyd George's quip about ‘contractor's gossip’ is partly born out in that, as several documents show [108, 113, 114], one of the people to pass information on to the British government was H. H. Mulliner, the managing director of the Coventry Ordnance works.
In many respects the year 1912 ushered in a new and more frenetic period for the Royal Navy. Although nobody knew that a global war was less then two years away, they were aware that another force of nature had been let loose on the Admiralty in the form of a new and extremely dynamic First Lord, Winston Churchill. Appointed in October 1911, he very quickly left his mark. Among his earliest reforms was the establishment of an Admiralty War Staff, a new central strategy agency intended to erase the deficiencies in the planning system allegedly revealed at the Committee of Imperial Defence meeting of 23 August 1911. To effect this change, Churchill first needed to dismiss Sir Arthur Wilson, the First Sea Lord, who was emphatically opposed to the establishment of a naval staff, a body which he regarded as perfectly suited to land warfare, but utterly out of tune with maritime needs and practices. Although difficult in some respects, this proved a blessing in disguise, as Wilson's enforced retirement afforded Churchill the opportunity of sweeping away a large swathe of the existing senior naval leadership, a process which enabled him to bring in some much needed fresh blood at the top. Significantly, this included a new Commander-in-Chief of the Home Fleet, Sir George Callaghan, whose impact on pre-war planning would unexpectedly prove considerable.
The establishment of a naval staff was not a solitary achievement. As First Lord, Churchill would be instrumental in, among other things, setting up the Royal Naval Air Service, improving the pay and conditions of the lower deck, overseeing the transition from coal to oil fuel, and bringing in the new 15-inch gun and the ships that would mount it, most notably the five famous battleships of the Queen Elizabeth class. Yet, while innovation often appeared the order of the day during this period, the Churchill Admiralty was also confronted with many of the same recurring issues as its predecessors.
By no means the least of these was the question of war-planning.
Richard Hakluyt (1552?–1616) was fascinated from his earliest years by stories of strange lands and voyages of exploration. A priest by profession, he was also an indefatigable editor and translator of geographical accounts, and a propagandist for English expeditions to claim new lands, especially in the Americas. His most famous work was first published in 1589, and expanded in 1598–1600: reissued here is the twelve-volume edition prepared by the Scottish firm of James MacLehose and Sons and first published between 1903 and 1905, which included introductory essays and notes. Hakluyt's subjects range from transcriptions of personal accounts and 'ruttiers' (descriptive charts of voyages) to patriotic attacks against rival nations (especially Spain). Volume 12 contains an essay on sixteenth-century voyages by the scholar Walter Raleigh (1861–1922), a general index to all the volumes, and an index to the individual ships referred to.
In 1850, a small squadron of British naval vessels, under the command of Horatio Austin, sought to locate the missing Arctic expedition of Sir John Franklin. The ships were trapped in ice by September 1850 and the men were forced to endure the forbidding Arctic winter, finally returning to England in October 1851. This book, published in 1852 and reissued here in the second edition that quickly followed the first, is a collection of articles which appeared in the Aurora Borealis, a newspaper edited by the surgeon James John Louis Donnet (1816–1905) aboard HMS Assistance. It features contributions from the likes of Sir John Ross, Leopold McClintock, fellow officers and several crew members. Despite the serious nature of the mission and the difficulties of the Arctic conditions, the contributions are often light-hearted, making this work a colourful reflection of life on a polar expedition.
The German scientific writer Georg Hartwig (1813–80) produced many popular works on geographical and natural history topics, among them this book, published in English in 1869. (An American version, with additional chapters, came out in the same year.) Unusually for the period, it surveyed exploration in the Antarctic as well as the Arctic, though the coverage of the latter makes up the bulk of the book. Hartwig's intention is 'to convey solid instruction under an entertaining form', combining the history of exploration with descriptions of the polar regions explored by the mid-century, including Siberia as well as the islands and ice packs of the Arctic Ocean. In this very readable work, Hartwig describes geography, geology and climate, as well as the survival strategies of plant, animal and human life in an extreme environment, using a very wide range of earlier published material to create an integrated narrative.
From an early age Roald Amundsen (1872–1928) was determined to be an explorer. Having gained valuable experience on the Belgian Antarctic Expedition (1897–9), he resolved to conquer the North-West Passage. After three years, using a small fishing vessel, the Gjøa, and only six crew, Amundsen succeeded in reaching Nome, Alaska. First published in Norwegian in 1907, and reissued here in its 1908 English translation, this two-volume account is copiously illustrated with photographs. Volume 2 begins with details of Inuit practices, including the building of snow houses, fishing, and the making of clothes. The navigation to Herschel Island, where the men spent a third winter among whaling vessels, is then recounted. One of the crew died from illness before the Gjøa reached Nome in August 1906. This volume contains a lengthy supplement by Godfred Hansen, describing the sledge journeys to map the coast of Victoria Island, and a detailed index to both volumes.
Nathaniel Pearce (1779–1820) was, according to J. J. Halls, who edited and published his autobiographical writings in 1831, 'one of those remarkable and adventurous beings, whom Nature … seems to take delight in creating'. Having run away to sea twice, deserted from the navy, accidentally killed a man, and briefly converted to Islam, he came into his own as a guide and factotum to British travellers in Egypt. He accompanied Henry Salt's 1805 mission to Abyssinia, where he married a local girl and served the ruler of Tigré until the latter's death in 1816. Pearce's humorous account of his life is particularly interesting in the details it gives of the land and people of Ethiopia, then little known by Europeans. Volume 1 begins the narrative of Pearce's life and his African travels and also contains an account of an expedition to the city of Gondar by his friend William Coffin.
Antiquary, zoologist and traveller, Thomas Pennant (1726–98) is remembered for his work in bringing natural history to popular attention and for his engaging writing about the journeys he made. Lavishly illustrated by Moses Griffith with fine engravings of the stunning scenery, buildings and artefacts, this work appeared in two volumes between 1778 and 1781. More than a mere travelogue, this tour of his native country is full of delightful vignettes and historical background. The descriptions of locations and buildings reveal Pennant's thorough mind and tireless capacity for observation. Several of Pennant's other works, including his Tour in Scotland (second edition, 1772), are also reissued in the Cambridge Library Collection. Volume 2 follows a route around the area of Snowdonia, the Llŷn Peninsula, Caernarfon, Anglesey and the north-east coast. The latter part of the volume traces a journey from Downing in Flintshire to Shrewsbury via Montgomery.
Son of an Arctic whaler, William Scoresby (1789–1857) made the first of many voyages to northern latitudes when he was just ten years old. Later a scientist and clergyman, he wrote on a wide range of topics, and his observations on the Arctic prompted further exploration of the region. The two works reissued here together draw on his experience of seafaring in difficult conditions. First published in 1835, Memorials of the Sea is coloured by Scoresby's belief in divine providence. He discusses the observance of the Sabbath at sea, and considers the Mary Russell murders of 1828, where a ship's captain killed his crew. Scoresby interviewed the perpetrator himself and draws his own conclusions as to the meaning of the incident. The second work included in this reissue is The Franklin Expedition (1850), drawing together considerations relating to the fate and whereabouts of the missing explorers.
The historian William Coxe (1748–1828) was also an Anglican priest, and had travelled widely in Europe as tutor to various young noblemen on the Grand Tour. (His Anecdotes of George Frederick Handel, and John Christopher Smith is also reissued in the Cambridge Library Collection.) This work originated on a visit to St Petersburg, where Coxe had obtained sight of journals by Russian explorers, and also found an anonymous German work on Russian Arctic voyages between 1745 and 1770. Having checked its authenticity with the Russian authorities, he translated it to form part of this book, first published in 1780 and reissued here in its revised third edition of 1787. He also provides various journals and accounts of exploration in Siberia, Kamchatka and the American Arctic, together with information on trade between Russia and China. Readers will gain insights into a rarely considered aspect of Arctic exploration and economic exploitation.