Opposition
to the scope of the changes outlined by Churchill was hardening and focused
particularly on the forthcoming C.I.D. meeting in Malta. Lord Morley, excluded
from the crucial C.I.D. meeting the previous August, evidently feared that
history was about to repeat itself and that policy would again be formulated by
a cabal of Ministers. Meanwhile, Haldane, with Grey in support, was concerned
that the preliminary meeting would be stacked in favour of the Admiralty; both
these fears were not entirely unjustified. Churchill had already sought to
mollify Haldane by declaring that the Malta conference, ‘between Asquith,
Kitchener & myself’, could settle nothing. What it might do, though, was
to concentrate ‘the PM’s attention upon important questions in a way that
would be impossible in the rush of business’ in London.
Irritatingly for Churchill, Haldane
would not be assuaged: having recovered some of his equanimity he
counter-attacked by preparing, on 9 May, his own memorandum on the subject of
losing the command of the sea in the Mediterranean and its effect on British
military strategy. Haldane argued that the Admiralty’s pessimistic view –
that it would take two months to regain command of the Mediterranean having lost
it initially in the opening phase of a war – completely changed the
‘fundamental basis of existing plans’. As a result, Malta would be liable to
attack; Egypt and Cyprus would need increased garrisons, an additional strain it
was impossible to bear; and Indian, Australian and New Zealand troops would have
to be re-routed round the Cape, avoiding Suez. It was Morley, however, who
forced the issue by demanding a Cabinet to consider the Malta meeting. What was
more, this time the tables were turned for, in a pleasant irony, when the
Cabinet duly convened on 10 May, it was now Churchill who (to Grey’s
subsequent annoyance) was absent — the First Lord was away with his fleet. In
his absence, the decision reached, ‘practically unanimous’ as Asquith
subsequently informed Churchill, was that, in the present circumstances (with
the Italo-Turkish war still in progress) the proposed meeting ‘could not be
kept secret, and would almost certainly give rise to awkward questions in
Parliament, and to considerable perturbation in Europe.’ And, although he did
not fully share the apprehensions of his colleagues, Asquith was bound ‘to
give effect to their considered view.’ In the event, therefore, he
countermanded his previous instructions for the meeting of the Committee and
instructed Hankey to cancel the invitations of all the non-naval members,
including Hankey’s own. Asquith still intended to make the cruise though and
meet Kitchener in Malta for what he termed an ‘informal discussion of
Mediterranean problems.’
This isolated victory of those who believed that the C.I.D., sitting in London
and fully attended, should be the only appropriate body to pursue the function
of devising a national strategy only hardened Churchill’s determination not to
co-operate with the Committee and to work to ensure that it would be
increasingly marginalized.
Churchill attempted to defuse the
situation when, on 10 May in answer to Nicolson’s allegations, he commented on
the arrangements with the French. The First Lord began by disingenuously
maintaining that, although considerable progress had been made ‘in the time of
my predecessor’, little had happened since he had assumed office; Churchill
intended to tell the French Naval Attaché that the subject would be ‘ripe’
for further discussion after his return from Malta.
Churchill’s admission that ‘little had happened since’ was not strictly
true: on 23 April an outline had been prepared at the Admiralty showing the
patrol zones for each navy in the Channel, the western approaches, and the
Mediterranean. The sole remaining British force envisaged for the Mediterranean,
a cruiser squadron, would protect British commerce and interests in the eastern
basin from hostile raids and watch the entrance to the Adriatic. The memorandum
was initialled by Churchill, Bridgeman and Battenberg.
As a result of Churchill’s
intimation that he intended to resume discussions with the French after his
visit to Malta, Grey saw Cambon to inform him that certain redistributions of
the fleet were being considered, ‘especially in connection with the
Mediterranean’, but that further discussions with the French Naval Attaché
could hardly be entered into until a final decision had been made at the
Admiralty. Cambon asserted, however, (again showing Churchill’s recollection to
have been faulty) that it was the First Sea Lord who had asked the Naval Attaché
‘last November’ to go into more detailed arrangements concerning French
support in the Channel and that the request had been made again by the British
Naval Attaché in Paris in January. Before replying, the French had asked the
Admiralty to define what help they wanted but, as no reply was forthcoming, the
French ‘had not said anything more, and the position now was that the French
Naval Attaché was ready to go into the matter.’ Grey was forced to admit that
the arrangement come to some time ago ‘was that, in time of war, the French
should look after the Mediterranean while we should look after the North Sea,
etc.’ What unspoken assumptions were contained in that innocuous little
‘etc.’? But Cambon would not be put off by the excuse that the British
redistribution was still in progress — the talks he wished to see re-initiated
concerned the Channel only and, therefore, ‘did not depend upon any new
distribution of the Fleet.’ Eventually, Grey had to extricate himself by
blaming Churchill’s continual absences with the Fleet; Grey was forced to
admit that he only had time to have a word with Churchill late at night the
previous week. To placate the French Churchill saw their Naval Attaché, the
Comte de Saint-Seine, on 14 May, told him the redistribution was nearly
completed, and added that, after Whitsuntide, he would discuss with the Comte
the further arrangements which would be necessary, ‘in certain
contingencies’. The Foreign Secretary, who was relieved to have the burden of
dealing with the French in this delicate matter shifted to Churchill’s broader
shoulders, minuted gratefully ‘This is enough for the present.’ The question of the
renewal of naval conversations was also brought before the Cabinet two days
after Churchill’s meeting with de Saint-Seine. It was revealed that the French
Naval Attaché was ‘pressing for an answer to the inquiries which he made some
time ago as to possible naval co-operation between the two countries in the
event of war.’ After ‘a lengthy discussion’ it became ‘apparent that the
whole Mediterranean situation must be resurveyed from the point of view both of
policy and of strategy.’ The Cabinet ‘adjourned fuller discussion of the
matter until after the Whitsuntide recess.’
On the morning of Tuesday 21 May a
small party gathered at Victoria Station, consisting of Asquith, his daughter
Violet; Churchill, his wife and sisters-in-law; Admiral Beatty, Eddie Marsh and
James Masterton-Smith from the Admiralty. From there, they all ‘rumbled off in
a Pullman car full of papers & letters & flowers’ to Dover, then a
calm crossing and the Train de Luxe to
Paris where they were joined by Battenberg.
From there they journeyed south, to join the Enchantress at Genoa on 22 May. Two days later they had reached the
Bay of Naples, where, no sooner had they anchored then that ‘old rascal Fisher
arrived on board.’ The Admiral was positively glowing in his notoriety.
‘They invented a lovely story’, he recounted, ‘that the Admiralty yacht
was driven into Naples by bad weather, and every Italian newspaper had it!
It’s very curious how every one is always so afraid of its being known that I
have anything to do with them!’
Rear-Admiral Beatty, who was present as the First Lord’s Naval Secretary,
wrote to his wife that Fisher had been closeted with Churchill since their
arrival but cautioned her not to mention to anyone ‘that F is in close
confidence with Winston. It would be most injurious to the Service if it got
out, & the Navy would hate it.’ After three more days cruising Beatty was
‘so tired and bored with the whole thing. Even the weather isn’t kind;
cloudy and cold with heavy rain storms.’ Churchill talked of nothing but the
wonderful things he was going to do for the Navy while Mrs Churchill was,
unfairly, dismissed as ‘a perfect fool’. As for Asquith: Beatty
complained that he was ‘a regular common old tourist; spends his time immersed
in a Baedecker Guide and reading
extracts to an admiring audience. On shore it makes one ashamed to have to
introduce him as the Prime Minister of Great Britain.’
Beatty’s time was not entirely wasted, however: he occupied part of it by
writing a memorandum for Churchill on the dispositions in the Mediterranean.
The First Lord’s scheme for
maximum concentration in the North Sea by means of the almost total evacuation
of the Mediterranean had been attacked virtually from the moment it was
announced. Churchill had the support of the Sea Lords, but ranged against him
were the Foreign Office, the War Office, Kitchener and Esher. The F.O., in
particular, worried that the withdrawal would result in a reliance being placed
on France tantamount to a defensive alliance which would in turn seriously
jeopardize Britain’s freedom of action. Indeed, Nicolson could conceive of no
more inopportune moment for the Admiralty’s proposal and was perturbed at the
effect it would have on the balance of power; he thought privately that, in any
case, the German navy had already succeeded in scoring a great triumph by
locking up ‘the whole of the British Navy’ in the North Sea.
The Army General Staff meanwhile, concerned with the military aspects of the
problem, pointed out that with the lack of adequate naval defence, Malta, Egypt
and Cyprus were under grave threat from Italy, Turkey and Austria respectively,
a situation made more serious as the garrisons could not be strengthened.
Churchill had – or so he must have hoped – left these serious objections
behind in London; however, Kitchener, who had arrived at Malta from Cairo, was a
formidable substitute. The Consul-General had earlier warned Grey that, in a war
with the Triple Alliance, the Mediterranean sea coast of Egypt could not be
held.
Fisher, who was also present to purvey his own idiosyncratic views (of which
Churchill was already acquainted), at least thought the new scheme of Fleet
distribution ‘admirable’, pointing out saliently to the First Lord in March,
‘What on earth is the use of our risking our existence for France if we get no
return. Let the French take care of the Mediterranean, and a hot time they’ll
have of it with submarines poking about in that lake! We are well out of it.’
No mention of the Mediterranean was complete though without Fisher’s usual
intonation: ‘Move Malta to Alexandria at once — now that the Italian War is
still on. Alexandria is the Key of Islam, and Islam is the Key of the British
Empire.’
Churchill needed some kind of
compromise which would appease his critics yet go most of the way towards
fulfilling his own programme with regard to the North Sea and Beatty’s
memorandum, written apparently more with the idea of escaping the social
activities aboard Enchantress, may
have provided it. Beatty’s first conclusion was that an agreement with France
was ‘absolutely essential’ so that the French could take over the
responsibility of maintaining in the Mediterranean a sufficient deterrence to
prevent Italy and Austria actively joining Germany; a proviso was added that
Britain should provide ships to make up the ‘balance of strength’ which
would ‘make victory certain if France will provide the equality.’ Second,
following the withdrawal of the six battleships from Malta, a strong force of
destroyers and submarines should be stationed at both Malta and Alexandria.
Third, in deference to the ‘important question of prestige’, the title Mediterranean
Battle Squadron should somehow be retained, if only as an adjunct. To do
this, Beatty suggested that the planned new fleet, to be stationed at Gibraltar,
should be given the clumsy appellation, “Fourth Battle Squadron Home Fleet
(Mediterranean Battle Squadron)”. Beatty then further developed his first
conclusion to include the compromise that would provide Churchill with the
chance to assuage the French, appease the British critics, and guarantee the
safety of British interests in the western basin. ‘It would strengthen the
chances of arriving at a proper and equitable agreement with the French’, he
argued, ‘if we are committed to withdraw from Malta (not
Mediterranean), that we should immediately strengthen the cruiser force
in the Mediterranean by an addition of two battle cruisers to be increased to
three by 1st May 1914, when the comparison of the forces of Italy and Austria
with France will be unfavourable to France.’ This was the first mention of the
battle cruisers in connexion with the Mediterranean. Beatty’s proposals at
least had the benefit of going some way towards satisfying opinion at the
Foreign Office where Nicolson now privately believed that the only practical
solution would be to create a fresh squadron for service in the Mediterranean.
Additionally, the battle cruisers were peculiarly Fisher’s “follies”,
magnificently impressive ships which had yet to find a useful rôle following
Fisher’s retirement.
Having
left Naples on 26 May the Enchantress
cruised complacently on the troublesome sea before arriving at Malta on the
morning of Wednesday the 29th. The Prime Minister’s daughter described how
they ‘drifted into the most wonderful harbour’ seen had ever seen:
‘strongholds and fastnesses piled up on every side – & men of war –
rigging up their flags & saluting by bugle calls from every deck.’ Violet
Asquith dressed and ran up on deck just as ‘different grandees were beginning
to arrive in pinnaces – all the Admirals in one – followed by their
flag-lieutenants, Ian Hamilton with a military contingent – & finally
Kitchener looking quite splendid (treble life size) but alas dressed as a
civilian in a Homburg hat.’ At the official lunch, Miss Asquith sat next to a
Captain called Ryan ‘who groused terribly at the removal of the Fleet’; she
attempted to placate him, producing all the arguments she had picked up en
route, ‘such as – much better none than too few etc.’ That night, after a
long rest, they were ‘out again to dine at the Palace.’
After
the enforced physical idleness, the irrepressible Churchill immediately busied
himself, visiting the Governor on the morning of their arrival and HMS Egmont
that afternoon. On Thursday morning he inspected the dockyard; that evening
there was dinner with Sir Ian Hamilton. On the following morning the ladies were
sent on board Cornwallis, which was
Captain Ryan’s ship, to witness battle practice; they were soon joined by
Asquith, Churchill, Kitchener, Beatty and Battenberg, who had toured the
destroyer Kennet. Happily ensconced on
Cornwallis, they ‘all started off in
this large iron grey monster into the open sea in pursuit of the Suffolk
which was towing the target.’ As the ladies placed cotton wool in their ears,
firing was commenced at the target, four miles distant. When this was finished
the ladies ‘went down & washed [their] faces’ as ‘torpedo practice
with submarines began.’ That afternoon, Churchill inspected the
pre-Dreadnought Duncan. On 1 June he inspected the garrison and, as there was now
nothing left to inspect, the Admiralty yacht sailed late that night for Bizerta. Somewhere in between –
in his spare time upon the island – the Mediterranean question was also
discussed.
As
the meetings no longer came under the aegis of the C.I.D., minutes were not kept
and the most complete record to be found is contained in a memorandum of the
draft arrangements drawn up by Churchill and Kitchener. Churchill, backed by
Battenberg, at once set out his bargaining position by continuing to insist that
the forces should be cut down to an irreducible minimum. Presumably aware of
Kitchener’s likely response to this opening gambit, Churchill kept one ace up
his sleeve: Beatty’s suggestion that a brace of battle cruisers should be
stationed in the Mediterranean for prestige purposes. There is no doubting that,
in some respects, it was an inspired idea. After Kitchener had succeeded in
obtaining Asquith’s support to try to force a compromise out of the seemingly
intransigent First Lord, Churchill played his ace, put forward Beatty’s
suggestion, and the Consul-General was appeased. Some almost-new battle cruisers
would take the place of six obsolete battleships. The result now, Kitchener
reported to Grey the day after the Enchantress
had departed Malta, would be ‘not unsatisfactory’. In his dispatch Kitchener
was able to inform the Foreign Secretary that the Admiralty ‘are prepared to
maintain permanently in the Mediterranean 2 and preferably 3 Battle Cruisers’,
adding – in the hope Grey would lend his support just as Asquith had done –
‘I think that if you insist they will find 3 of these.’ While he must have
felt reasonably pleased with the outcome, in reality Kitchener had fallen for
the three card trick. The ‘approximate’ outcome of the consultations, as he
described to Grey, was that:
It
was considered essential that a definite agreement should be made with France,
if we defend her Northern coasts that her Fleet in the Mediterranean, together
with the permanent British ships stationed there should be sufficient to ensure
victory against Italy and Austria combined in case of war with the Triple
Alliance.
In
addition to the extra battle cruiser, Kitchener also wanted a cruiser squadron
of four ships, two of which at least (and preferably all four) should be of the
large Devonshire class: again, if Grey were to insist, Kitchener was sure
the squadron could be made to comprise all Devonshires.
Churchill though would guarantee only two Devonshires
immediately, with two of the same class to follow ‘as soon as circumstances
permit’; he did agree that the smaller ships already on station should be
maintained for diplomatic purposes.
With regard to the fleet to be based
at Gibraltar, Kitchener proposed that it should consist of eight battleships
with the title, only slightly less clumsy than Beatty’s, “Mediterranean
Battle Fleet (Fourth Battle Squadron)”. Further, he advocated that, by January
1913, two dreadnoughts should be attached with the promise that the fleet should
eventually become all-dreadnought. And finally, despite the fact that the
subject had not been mentioned during the Malta discussions, Kitchener urged
Grey to arrange it so that the battle squadron should not be moved from the
Mediterranean in peacetime without the concurrence of the Foreign Office.
Churchill was at his least accommodating with regard to this fleet which he, in
turn, christened ‘The Mediterranean (Fourth) Battle Squadron’. The plethora
of titles clearly indicated the prevailing confusion as to the exact purpose
this fleet was meant to serve. Churchill appeared to be ill at ease with the
dual nature of its function, again a possible legacy of Fisher’s edict that it
was not possible to be strong everywhere. For the time being, it would be
composed of four pre-dreadnought Duncans, to be joined, according to the draft arrangements, by the
‘semi-dreadnoughts’ Lord Nelson and
Agamemnon early in 1913 and, later that year, by another pre-dreadnought and
also Dreadnought herself. Although the
squadron would cruise as much as possible in the Mediterranean, it would be
‘available for service elsewhere if seriously required in peace, or in case of
war.’ So much for the Foreign Office. On a less exalted plane, it was proposed
that the submarine and destroyer flotillas at Malta should be increased if
necessary, while Alexandria would receive a submarine flotilla ‘capable of
overseas action’.
Inspiration and expediency aside,
the decision to station battle cruisers at Malta made a great deal of sense.
They were ideally suited for commerce protection, could outrun any of the
Italian or Austrian dreadnoughts slowly entering service, and, being such
imposing vessels in their own right, would make excellent “flag wavers”. Yet
even this decision was not uncontentious. ‘The narrow waters of the
Mediterranean’, the Naval Annual argued,
somewhat pedantically, ‘do not seem the most suitable sphere of action for
vessels with the sea-keeping qualities of our battle-cruisers.’ Nevertheless,
though Fisher would have been loathe to admit it, the further the battle
cruisers were away from the German dreadnoughts in the North Sea, the better.
The
Malta debate was not conducted in a vacuum; the question of a British withdrawal
vitally affected French interests as well and similar arguments raged over the
concomitant French policy of concentration in the Mediterranean. M Painlevé,
the reporter on the French estimates for 1912 and 1913, strongly supported the
policy, adopting Fisher’s dictum that it was better to be overwhelmingly
strong in what was for France the main theatre. He was joined by the well-known
naval writer Captain Daveluy who, although recognizing that towns on the French
Channel coast could be subject to bombardment from the sea, did not think that
serious damage would be inflicted as a result. However, even this danger
could be eliminated by means of a powerful ally in the North Sea who could take
the fight direct to the enemy at the onset of hostilities. In opposition to
these views were, amongst others, M J de Lanessan, a former Minister of Marine,
and Rear-Admiral Darrieus, another writer who had also held a command in the
Mediterranean. Darrieus was not prepared to regard lightly the prospect of
bombardment and possible invasion of the undefended Channel coast. In January
1913 he was placed in a strong position to air his views when he became Chief of
the Cabinet to the new Minister of Marine, Pierre Baudin.
Meanwhile, with the Triple Alliance
due for renewal, Prime Minister Poincaré sought a diplomatic arrangement with
Italy to prevent the extension of the obligations of the alliance to the
Mediterranean. Cambon, in London, saw Nicolson on 18 May to explain that:
M
Poincare was revolving in his mind some project whereby an arrangement could be
made with Italy providing for the maintenance of the status quo along the whole seaboard from the Suez Canal to the
entrance of the Straits of Gibraltar. His idea was for some mutual engagement
between France, Italy, and Great Britain, that each country would respect and
maintain the integrity of the possessions of the others.
Grey
realized, however, that such a proposition would, while the Turco-Italian war
continued, ‘postulate the recognition of the Italian annexation of Tripoli’
which was, for the moment, out of the question. All this was far away from
Asquith’s mind as the Enchantress
steamed leisurely back to Portsmouth. He at least relaxed and enjoyed the sights
oblivious to the impression he created; Churchill, restless as ever, could not
relax and beavered away on yet another memorandum on the Mediterranean Naval
Situation. It was rapidly developing into a summer of memoranda.
In the absence of the Prime Minister
and First Lord, rampant press speculation in London continued unabated. Esher
rushed to congratulate the editor of the Westminster
Gazette when a leader on 4 June strongly criticized the North Sea
orientation of the fleet. In Esher’s opinion, the Mediterranean remained
‘permanently the centre of naval strategic gravity in Europe, because it is
and always has been the main artery of sea bound trade.’ Yet, he advised
Spender, if the Board of Admiralty could have their way, ‘the whole of the
Dominion Fleets (when they come into being) will be in the North Sea! It is
madness. Talk to Admiral Troubridge [the C.O.S.] and see what he says about the
“fighting value” of such a force concentrated in one theatre of war.’ Whether or not Spender
took Esher’s advice, Sir Henry Wilson certainly discussed the situation with
Troubridge — and came away from their long talk seriously alarmed. The
addition of the two battle cruisers to the four cruisers on the Malta station,
while welcome in itself, did not go nearly far enough: ‘…in no sense’,
Wilson recorded in his diary, ‘could it be said we had regained control.’
Troubridge also voiced his opinion ‘that this Government won’t have an
alliance with France’, the one arrangement, other than the vast addition to
the Fleet that Troubridge considered preferable, which would have safeguarded
the Mediterranean position.
Speculation was not confined to
Britain either: Goschen reported from Berlin that, following the Malta
Conference, German naval writers considered the evacuation of Malta in favour of
Gibraltar a triumph. Although it was indisputable that the squadron could
move either into the North Sea or Mediterranean, it could not go both ways at
once. Not only would there be increased activity in German dockyards but in
those of Italy and Austria as well. Churchill, never one to
take kindly to diplomats interfering in what he regarded as strategical matters,
replied by way of a letter to Asquith and Grey:
The
question to ask about strategic dispositions is whether they are sound in
themselves, not what the enemy thinks about, & still less what he says
about them. If Germany is ‘encouraged’ to further efforts by the fact that
we have made the most effective steps to resist her, she will have been still
further ‘encouraged’ by less effectual steps on our part. Whatever we do she
will have something to say. But if her power is confined to words, we shall have
done right.
The
Enchantress docked at Portsmouth on
the morning of Monday, 10 June. That evening Grey held a dinner at the Foreign
Office for his returning colleagues at which Churchill discovered a surprising
political ally in the shape of the former Conservative Prime Minister Arthur
Balfour. Needing all the support he could garner, at Churchill’s prompting,
Balfour developed his line of argument and forwarded the ensuing memorandum on
Anglo-French relations to Grey. The position was such, maintained Balfour, that
Britain bore ‘the risks and burdens of an alliance without the full advantage
which an alliance would secure.’ The Mediterranean situation was a perfect
illustration of this, as Balfour added his name to the growing list of those
involved in the popular game of listing the options available: increased
naval expenditure — ‘a most costly operation’; the
abandonment of the Mediterranean — which ‘would hardly be consistent
with the security of our trade routes in time of war, and would be quite inconsistent
with effective diplomacy in time of peace’; securing
the co-operation of the French Fleet — ‘But this course obviously
involves the substitution of a formal alliance for an informal Entente.’
Nevertheless, Balfour considered the last the wisest choice. An Entente, he
maintained, was ‘the natural prey of the diplomatic intriguer’ and therefore
the immediate announcement of an Anglo-French alliance would relieve
international tension rather than aggravate it. This treaty, to be defensive,
had only one danger as Balfour saw it, though it was a formidable one: the
treaty ‘while remaining defensive in form, may conceivably become offensive in
fact.’ To guard against this, he proposed that the ally calling for assistance
should first put its case to international arbitration. Balfour concluded:
‘(1) that the capacities of the much tried “Entente” are now almost
exhausted. (2) That the advantages … of a treaty are great and growing. (3)
That its dangers, though real, are not unavoidable; and (4) that in a judicious
use of the modern machinery of arbitration may perhaps be found the best way of
avoiding them.’ However, while ostensibly ‘very glad’ to receive
Balfour’s advice, Grey remained non-committal thus bearing out Troubridge’s
supposition. The Mediterranean position, Grey replied blandly, ‘will oblige
this or any Government to consider our relations with France very carefully.’
Asquith, meanwhile, was carpeted by
King George who had been fully briefed for their interview. Esher recorded
gleefully how the Prime Minister had given the King an account of the proposed
plans, particularly the replacement of the six Mediterranean battleships by
(eventually) three battle cruisers, only to be then ‘floored’ by the King
who ‘showed far more accurate knowledge than Asquith possessed about the
ships.’
Esher’s source for this information was the King himself, and of course it was
just what Esher wanted to hear. On the other hand, when Battenberg – a devout
adherent to the Admiralty line – saw the King some weeks later he found him,
in regard to the Mediterranean question at least, ‘in complete ignorance of
the naval aspect’ and an abysmal strategist.
The battle lines were drawn.
Churchill had finished his long
memorandum, begun on the Enchantress, by 15 June and it was presented at Cabinet four days
later when it did not have the easy ride he expected; Asquith reported that,
‘as many members of the Cabinet had not had time to digest it, and as Mr
McKenna indicated strong dissent, it was resolved after some preliminary debate
to adjourn the matter till next week.’
Charles Hobhouse, annoyed to learn that Churchill had, without consulting the
Cabinet, ‘moved the 8 battleships from Malta’ was more succinct: ‘What is
not explained in this precious scheme is how we are to protect the Russian
grain-trade at the outbreak of war, or in what way we are so inferior to the
Austro-Italian fleet as to cause us to withdraw from the Mediterranean’.
This must have been disheartening, as Churchill probably expected that the
memorandum into which he had put so much work would successfully have answered
all his critics. To those, like Nicolson, who advocated increased naval
construction Churchill skilfully countered that the problem lay not so much in
the building of additional ships, but in finding trained crews to man them. To
keep the old Mediterranean pre-dreadnoughts in full commission meant laying up
much stronger, newer ships with nucleus crews at home. Further, if left on the
station to face the Austrian and Italian dreadnoughts expected shortly to be in
service, the British pre-dreadnoughts ‘would only be a cheap and certain
spoil’. It would ‘be both wrong and futile to leave the present battle
squadron at Malta to keep up appearances.
It would be a bluff which would deceive nobody.’
This again was aimed at the Foreign
Office and the likes of Esher. ‘The influence and authority of the
Mediterranean Fleet is going to cease’, Churchill argued with justification,
‘not because of the withdrawal of the Malta battleships, but because of the
completion of the Austrian and Italian Dreadnoughts.’ Clearly, the major
theatre was to be the North Sea; in the Mediterranean, Churchill continued,
Britain must adopt the rôle of the weaker power and, in words that must have
been music to Fisher’s ears, ‘fall back mainly on the torpedo’. Malta
could, if necessary, hold out for three months, relying on its reputation as
‘a nest of submarines and torpedo craft’. Yet, if that were really the case,
why then send the battle cruisers at all? Churchill even had an argument for
those who took this extreme opposing view: a problem would arise during 1913 and
1914, he admitted, as French shipbuilding alone failed to match that of Italy
and Austria combined, thereby necessitating the maintenance in the Mediterranean
of a British force which, when added to the French, would ensure ‘an effective
superiority’. Churchill therefore proposed, initially, to send out the battle
cruisers Indomitable and Invincible.
How he must have been glad of Beatty’s suggestion, which had saved the day in
Malta, and to which he could now also add the sanction of Admiral Bridgeman. The
First Sea Lord, according to Churchill, was of the opinion that ‘At present
the British battle cruisers have an immense prestige in themselves; no one
really knows their full value; it is undoubtedly great — it may be even more
than we imagine. In the Mediterranean they could operate with great effect;
their speed, their armour, their armament, all are great assets, even their
appearance has a sobering effect.’
Following the clash in Cabinet the
opposing sides retired, albeit briefly, to consolidate their arguments.
Churchill might have counted on some opposition, but whether he anticipated that
it would come principally from McKenna, and with such vehemence, is
problematical. Two days later, 21 June, and both sides would be back at work.
Troubridge, the C.O.S., concocted an Admiralty War Staff Memorandum on the Mediterranean Situation — a
tame and innocuous document which generally followed the Churchillian line and
whose only novelty lay in the suggestion that, to help in meeting the demand for
ten additional battleships required by 1915 to maintain superiority, the six
battleships projected or building in British yards for foreign powers could be
purchased. Troubridge was on guard against over-reliance on the French. The
arrangement with France, he argued, ‘must take a permanent shape, or we must
increase our own Navy to the extent necessary to maintain our position in the
face of the Triple Alliance. The latter alternative is considered by the War
Staff to be the more satisfactory from every point of view except that of
expense.’ This, of course, entered the realms of fantasy and is an interesting
example of the proposals emanating from the so-called ‘thinking department’
of the Admiralty.
While Troubridge worked on his
memorandum, at the other end of Whitehall Nicolson had two visitors at the
Foreign Office on 21 June: Admiral Sir John Fisher and Ambassador Paul Cambon.
Although Fisher had wanted to see Grey the Foreign Secretary kept him at arms
length and Nicolson instead received the ear bashing. It was the familiar story:
Fisher had realized ever since he was C-in-C in the Mediterranean at the turn of
the century that British interests would come to rely on the torpedo; Alexandria
and the Suez Canal could be defended with submarines and torpedo craft, while
Malta could hold out for three months. On this occasion, his famed prescience
deserted him: this would be ample time, he insisted, because ‘the war would be
finished in 3 weeks’. Nevertheless, those attempting to fan the flames of
controversy by protesting against the planned evacuation of the Mediterranean
(such as Beresford) were ‘talking rubbish’. Fisher had explained his views
to Churchill in detail, Nicolson later informed Grey, ‘but I give you the
merest sketch of them. Of course he [Fisher] apparently has not taken into
consideration other than strictly naval questions and on these I can give no
opinion.’
Taking the opposite line, Nicolson’s second visitor, Cambon, readily admitted
that he had no instructions to speak on the Mediterranean question but he just
happened to have read the latest reports from Paris and could not help observing
that he, personally, thought the withdrawal to Gibraltar a mistake. British
influence in the Levant would necessarily be diminished while it might also
become advisable to include Spain in any future discussions.
The King’s private secretary, Lord
Knollys, was also busy that day, writing to Asquith to remind the Prime Minister
that he had promised the King that Churchill’s plans, once accepted by the
Cabinet, should then go before the C.I.D. before becoming final.
The King’s concerns, though heartfelt, had been fuelled by the increasingly
vociferous Esher, who was not to be denied in the current round of “memorandumizing”.
His effort was straightforward enough:
No
juggling with the number or quality of a limited cruiser squadron for the
Mediterranean; no partial rearmament of Maltese fixed defences; and no
transference of a few military units from South Africa to Egypt can be an
adequate substitute for a Battle Fleet in the Middle Sea. It is equally certain
that neither in War nor in Peace can an Alliance or a Convention with France
serve the double purpose of Great Britain, that is (1) to maintain such
Mediterranean sea-command as will in Peace give assurance of support to distant
parts of the Empire, and (2) in War to keep open the military route to India and
safeguard our principal avenues of seaborne trade.
Esher’s
argument centred on the provision of ‘reasonable security’ in the North Sea
rather than overwhelming force; this would in turn free enough ships to maintain
a Mediterranean Battle Fleet.
This
was a seductive argument which Churchill had to refute, and quickly, before the
Cabinet reconvened. Churchill duly prepared a supplementary memorandum on 22
June in ‘amplification’ of his previous one and with the rejoinder, in an
attempt to force the issue, that ‘a decision is urgently required’. The new
document was more technical than before, relying perhaps on the hope that his
colleagues, like Nicolson the day before, would be loathe to voice an opinion on
purely naval matters. Churchill also fell back on the old Admiralty ploy of
presenting the German programme in the gravest possible light, as if it were an
accomplished fact, while overstating the difficulties encountered by the Royal
Navy. An irreducible minimum of thirty-three British battleships, he confidently
asserted, was needed to counter the threat posed by twenty-five German
battleships ‘in full permanent commission’. However, of these thirty-three
British ships, eight would comprise the new Gibraltar squadron and would not be
available to respond to a sudden German threat in the North Sea. Of the
remaining twenty-five ships, others – amounting to five or six at any one time
– would also be unavailable through refitting, repair or special duty.
While this would also hold true for
Germany, they could arrange for all their ships to be ready at a given time. The
result, in Churchill’s unsettling and pessimistic forecast, was that Britain
could not ‘make certain of putting more than twenty-one full commissioned
battleships and six full nucleus crew battleships in the line: total
twenty-seven. There is no reason why – choosing their moment – the Germans
should not put an equal number. In fact, our only margin for a sudden emergency
is any superiority in the quality of our individual ships.’ Churchill
thereupon outlined four courses:
a.
To reduce our margins in the North Sea, which my naval advisors state
will imperil the country.
b.
To abandon the Mediterranean, which would be very injurious.
c.
To build a new fleet for the Mediterranean, which will cost 15 to 20
millions and cannot be ready before 1916; and,
d.
To make an arrangement with France and leave enough ships in the
Mediterranean to give her undoubted superiority, as proposed in my memorandum of
16th inst.
Churchill
had, inter alia, answered Esher with point (a); Nicolson with point (b);
and Troubridge with point (c). However, his chief critic from within the
Government, the former First Lord, McKenna, could not attend the Cabinet on 27
June when Churchill’s memoranda would be debated; any hopes Churchill
entertained that he would be able to force agreement to the proposal in
McKenna’s absence quickly foundered when the First Lord read the memorandum
McKenna had produced on the 24th to take his place in the Cabinet room. With
admirable speed, Churchill produced yet
another memorandum on 25 June specifically to refute McKenna’s.
The discussion of this mounting pile
of paper occupied the whole sitting of the Cabinet on the 27th. McKenna’s
memorandum attempted to “out-figure” Churchill; it is inconceivable that, as
a well-respected former First Lord, McKenna did not have some inside assistance
in preparing his counter-blast, even if he was at pains to deny this.
Churchill’s tactics consisted of presenting the fateful comparison between the
two Powers as being between Dreadnoughts and Battle Cruisers only, thus ignoring
the marked British preponderance in pre-dreadnoughts. In doing so, not only did
he have the full support of his advisers – men of the materiel school – who
tended to write off the pre-dreadnought as being a less than useful fighting
unit, but he was also forced, secretly, to deny his own private opinion as to
the value of pre-dreadnoughts.
McKenna chose otherwise: presenting
the case for the spring of 1914 he included battleships up to twenty years old.
The figure thus arrived at comprised thirty-eight pre-dreadnoughts (going back
to the Majestic class of 1890s), the two semi-dreadnoughts (Lord
Nelson and Agamemnon), ten dreadnoughts and twelve super-dreadnoughts: a total
of sixty-two battleships compared to only thirty-six that Germany could count on
by using the same formula. The disparity was just as marked with the other
classes: ten British battle cruisers against five German, and thirty-four
British armoured cruisers against just nine for Germany. Even adding the figures
for Italy and Austria to those of Germany would give Britain parity with
dreadnoughts and a superiority in other classes. McKenna, on this basis,
ventured to submit ‘no more than a suggestion as a basis for discussion’
that the King Edward class of eight
battleships, still only six or seven years old, should go to Malta, while the
eight older Formidables should go to
Gibraltar, accompanied by a cruiser squadron. United under a single command this
force should suffice in 1914 at least against the combined strength of Italy and
Austria in protecting both Malta and Gibraltar and the trade routes. McKenna
could not resist rubbing salt into the wound: ‘Should this Fleet, however, be
regarded as inadequate, the preponderance of our remaining strength over Germany
is so great that prudence would permit of our sending a reinforcement.’
Churchill volleyed back: ‘I fully
recognize the difficulties which the Home Secretary has had in endeavouring to
deal with such a problem without assistance of expert advisers, and I am
indebted to him for the trouble which he has taken in preparing so detailed a
memorandum. But I am compelled to observe that the distribution of the British
Fleets proposed by him would be at variance with the accepted principles of
strategy, and would directly court disaster.’ So, who was right? Surely in the
final analysis it all came down to figures which could be proved or disproved?
On this basis McKenna, with or without expert advisers, correctly foretold what
the situation would be. His forecast, for the spring of 1914, credited Germany
with thirty-six battleships and five battle cruisers. Germany entered the war
with thirty-five battleships and five battle cruisers. In fact, as far as the
battleships were concerned, McKenna was too generous in splitting the ratio of
dreadnought to pre-dreadnought — his total of thirty-six German ships being
made up of sixteen of the former and twenty of the latter whereas the actual
figures were thirteen and twenty-two.
But this was in the future and, for
the present, to refute McKenna’s assertion Churchill presented the recently
passed novelle as an established fact,
allowing the Germans to maintain twenty-five ships at all time in full
commission. Against this was set Churchill’s irreducible minimum of
thirty-three British ships. Yet if, as McKenna suggested, sixteen
pre-dreadnoughts were detached this would leave, according to the Mobilisation
Department, only seventeen ships fully commissioned and available in home
waters. Churchill’s attempt at scare tactics failed. When he was asked by
Charles Hobhouse to state ‘when the German fleet would be at its full
strength’ Churchill, ‘after some equivocation’ declared that this would
occur in 1915. The Cabinet then ‘pressed him as to the forces of France and
Russia of which he had taken no account, and he had to concede their
strength.’
Knowing
he could not win purely on ship numbers, Churchill again shifted the ground away
from the actual ships and concentrated on manpower instead: it did not matter
how many ships you had, he now argued, if the crews to man them could not be
found even though, apparently, Germany had no trouble producing the trained
crews at short notice which Britain could not find. Churchill then took
McKenna’s figure of sixteen German dreadnoughts available by April 1914 to
which he added nine pre-dreadnoughts in full commission and four reserve ships.
Against this total, Britain could supposedly call on only seventeen dreadnoughts
in full commission plus a further seven with nucleus crews: therefore Germany
could field twenty-nine ships against Britain’s twenty-four. The flaw in
Churchill’s argument, apart from the ease with which German sailors could be
produced, was obvious: British pre-dreadnoughts unsupported in the Mediterranean
would, in Churchill’s words, be ‘cheap and easy spoil’ to the Italian and
Austrian dreadnoughts; yet, in the North Sea, the German pre-dreadnoughts,
universally accepted as poor ships, could somehow survive and prosper. Whatever
else Churchill maintained, the simple fact was that, after stripping out the
despised pre-dreadnoughts, according to his own figures Britain would have
twenty-four dreadnoughts against Germany’s sixteen and, what is more, the
newer British ships mounted the excellent 13.5-inch gun as against the 12-inch
in all the German ships. It was little wonder that
Sir Henry Wilson complained that the politicians were trying to bamboozle with
figures.
The situation was even more
comfortable with regard to battle cruisers where Churchill was forced to agree
with McKenna’s figures of ten British against five German; he did quibble,
however, that Australia would soon be
detached to become flagship of the newly formed Australian Navy. This time his
cry of ‘wolf’ was not helped by the agreement reached at Malta to send two
(‘preferably three’) battle cruisers to the Mediterranean. ‘The argument
for sparing these’, Churchill reasoned, ‘is that the late Board of Admiralty
had proposed to send Indomitable to
China, and to let New Zealand go there
too. We have stopped Indomitable and
have been allowed to keep New Zealand.
We are therefore two to the good on these. If a third battle cruiser is wanted
for the Mediterranean, an extra ship must be laid down forthwith to replace
her.’ Although Churchill’s barbed reference to the ‘late Board of
Admiralty’ was, presumably, not lost on McKenna the former First Lord fought
back intelligently, pointing to yet another flaw in Churchill’s plan:
supposing, McKenna’s memorandum argued, the German fleet declined to give
battle but merely exercised the threat of a fleet
in being, safe in harbour, unable to be drawn out or attacked? Italian and
Austrian cruisers would have a free reign on the Mediterranean trade routes, as
the plan to reinforce the Mediterranean after the decisive North Sea battle
would have to be held permanently in abeyance while, all the time, the morale of
the officers and men of the Royal Navy would suffer from being kept on a war
footing at their bleak northern stations.
McKenna further hypothesized that
Italian and Austrian cruisers could push out into the Atlantic to attack the
major trade routes there, though this was discounted by Churchill who did not
believe these ships would want to run the gauntlet of Gibraltar and, even if
they did, they would lack suitable Atlantic bases. Nevertheless, McKenna
maintained:
So
long as Germany is able by the mere postponement of a battle, in which she is
sure of defeat, to secure the destruction of our trade and the consequent
starvation of our people, what inducement has she to do more than remain in her
fortified harbours until we are either exhausted from lack of supplies, or have
weakened ourselves to Mr Churchill’s point of danger by dispatching a fleet to
drive off the allies. I do not think I am misinterpreting Mr Churchill’s
strategy when I say that an alliance with France is its essential feature.
Without such an alliance I cannot think that his naval advisers would recommend
the distribution of the fleet which he now proposes. It is, of course, for the
Cabinet to decide whether we should allow ourselves to be forced into this
alliance, but, for my part, I should view with the gravest concern any action
being taken which must necessarily lead to such a conclusion. I would far rather
– if it were necessary, which I hesitate to believe – give my vote for an
addition to our fleet in ships and men, than be driven by our weakness into
dependence on an alliance with any European power.
Churchill
would argue that, indeed, McKenna was misrepresenting his strategy. In
anticipation of just such an objection, Churchill’s original memorandum of 15
June had stated:
It
should be noted that these arrangements stand by themselves, and are put forward
as the best we can make in the present circumstances. The situation would,
however, become entirely favourable if France is taken into account. The French
fleet, supported by an adequate British naval force, and enjoying the use of our
fortified and torpedo-defended bases as well as their own, would be superior to
any Austro-Italian alliance. An Anglo-French combination in a war would be able
to maintain full control of the Mediterranean, and afford all necessary
protection to British and French interests, both territorial and commercial,
without impairing British margins in the North Sea. A definite naval arrangement
should be made with France without delay. This arrangement would come into force
only if the two Powers were at any time allies in a war. It would not decide the
question of whether they should be allies or not. No sound or effective
dispositions can be made without it, and many obvious contingencies must be left
unsatisfied.
McKenna’s opposition was dangerous
for Churchill, the more so since another forceful opponent of the planned
changes – Haldane – had recently been moved from the War Office to become
Lord Chancellor following Loreburn’s resignation. Haldane was replaced in turn
by the ineffectual Colonel Seely.
Although this change spurred on Generals French and Wilson it nevertheless meant
that if Churchill could outface McKenna he would stand a reasonable chance of
forcing his changes through. To assist in this process, and as his arguments
revolved to an ever greater extent around manning requirements, Churchill sought
to lay the blame for the current shortfall at McKenna’s feet. It was the
former First Lord, Churchill calmly noted while taking advantage of McKenna’s
absence, who had in February 1911 refused to sanction the manning increase
requested — though the weight of this particular argument was somewhat
diminished when Churchill ruefully admitted that, for 1911 at least, McKenna had
been justified. By 1912, however, with the knowledge of the German novelle,
Churchill had seen the light, announced an immediate increase in manpower and
had begun recruiting steadily, but doubted whether he could make up the
shortfall.
This change of tactics was not sufficient to convince his colleagues and
Churchill made little headway. It was perhaps just as well that McKenna was not
at the Cabinet on 27 June. Conceivably, after a full day of this, Asquith might
also have wished that he were somewhere else. Aware that the C.I.D. would meet a
week hence to thrash out the entire question yet again in the light of the Malta
Conference, and having had enough of naval strategy for one day, the Prime
Minister deferred further consideration of the subject by the Cabinet until the
following Friday, after the C.I.D. had deliberated and when McKenna would be
able to attend. In the meantime Churchill was asked to produce yet more figures
as regards fighting strengths in the Mediterranean for the next three years
against various combinations.
There was one tangible result of this meeting, however: Charles Hobhouse recorded
that, despite Grey, in particular, being ‘much impressed’ with the argument
that ‘half of the corn eaten here reaches us via the Mediterranean’, the
‘suggested definite naval agreement
with France seems to be abandoned by everyone.’
In support of Churchill, Admiral
Bridgeman, the First Sea Lord, had set Troubridge to work to prepare a new
report on “Conditional Mediterranean Requirements”. In the most likely event
– co-operation with France – Troubridge proposed that Britain should send
two battle cruisers to Malta by January 1913, with a third a year later and a
fourth by January 1915. The two latter ships (either battle cruisers or
battleships) would have to be additional to current building programmes, and the
C.O.S. held out the hope that perhaps Canada might supply them.
Each side now prepared for what was viewed as the crucial C.I.D. meeting of 4
July. McKenna sent a copy of his memorandum to the King – a likely ally –
but Battenberg learnt of this move after lunching with the King on 1 July and
informed Churchill who immediately complained to His Majesty of the ‘somewhat
unusual course’ McKenna had taken. Churchill naturally, in place of his
predecessor’s alleged bogus arguments, supplied the King with copies of his
own memoranda. The First Lord also
commissioned a memorandum from Fisher in support of his plans and intended to
use it in Cabinet, but it was perhaps too forthright and eccentric even for that
body and Fisher sent it instead (possibly with Churchill’s blessing) to the
King’s private secretary.
While the coalition against the
planned evacuation gathered strength, at the Foreign Office, Sir Arthur Nicolson
either attempted to muzzle Grey, or at least ascertain where he stood. Nicolson
informed Grey on Sunday 30 June that:
I
am puzzled as to the next meeting of the C.I.D. at which the Mediterranean
question is to be discussed. The F.O. paper enumerating our objections is on the
Agenda, and to my mind, Churchill’s recent minute does not weaken or remove
any of the objections. I do not know if you are of a different opinion, and
whether you are ready to support Churchill’s proposals as affording at least a
provisional solution of the problem. Your opinion is naturally and properly
decisive as regards F.O. affairs — I feel myself therefore in a dilemma
supposing you consider that the F.O. objections have been satisfactorily met by
what I will term the Malta compromise. Of course I could not in these
circumstances advocate at the Committee the F.O. opinion as stated in our paper.
It would be unseemly for me to do so. On the other hand I should not care to
remain silent as if I acquiesced in the Malta compromise, for honestly I do not,
I am disposed to think that it would be better that I should not attend the
Committee meeting at all, and thus avoid what would be to me an embarrassing
position.
Nicolson’s
mild attempt to blackmail Grey into wholeheartedly supporting the F.O. line
failed. The never-ending discussion of the Mediterranean situation must have
made Grey feel distinctly uncomfortable; he certainly took little part in the
debates, and did not need reminding by Nicolson of the consequences which would
ensue following acceptance of the Malta compromise. In the event, Nicolson did
attend the meeting, but would say nothing.
Esher, meanwhile, was concerned that
his attacks on Churchill’s policy might be construed as an attack on the First
Lord personally and, accordingly, he wrote to Churchill on 1 July to disabuse
him of this notion. He had liked Churchill, he declared, since, as a child, the
First Lord had bounced on Esher’s knee. ‘Because of you youth, zeal,
assiduity and great powers of mind’, the egregious intriguer continued, ‘you
are the only member of the Government for this vital post which you occupy.’
Esher ended feebly that he may come up to London for the C.I.D.; presumably Churchill saw
straight through this feigned indecision. Privately, though, Esher was becoming
more resigned to the situation, writing to his son the following day that ‘all
the strong people in the Cabinet are behind Winston. It will be a bit of a fight
at the Defence Committee, but if the P.M., Grey, Haldane and Lloyd George back
Churchill what can the rest do? It means an alliance with France under cover of
“conversations”.’
The day before the C.I.D. McKenna,
like a good lawyer always seeking to have the last word, weighed in with a fresh
memorandum in answer to Churchill’s of 25 June. He pointed out that the fleets
of those putative allies, Italy and Austria, were just as likely to operate against
each other and that it would be ‘unlikely that they will ever be found in a
single line of battle.’ Reiterating his figures, McKenna showed that, in all
classes, the Royal Navy was at parity with, or superior to, the combined forces
of the Triple Alliance. On the sore point of manning he argued that, even if
current levels were deficient, the leeway could be made good by 1914.
Finally, the same day, another view was presented by the Naval Attaché in
Paris, Captain Kelly, who argued that ‘from a naval point of view, and
considering the present state of international affairs, an alliance between
France and Great Britain is desirable for both parties, and if it is not carried
into effect at once at least all the preliminaries should be carefully drawn up,
so that should the alliance be decided on suddenly its effect could at once be
felt.’ If, Kelly added, the Mediterranean was to be left to France, ‘this
can only be done through an alliance, a matter of such import cannot be left to
a simple understanding.’ Should this happen, he maintained, ‘the French
fleet can safely be trusted with the control and guard of the western basin, but
even then, [just to confuse the issue] as British interests are mainly in the
east, a British force of at least four Battle-Cruisers should be stationed in
the east basin, based on the Port of Alexandria.’
How Fisher must have smiled.
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