Heresies of Sea Power/Part 2/Chapter 3

To every nation with a sea-borne trade the defence of commerce is an acute question. So difficult and complicated is it that there is a general conspiracy now and again to shelve it.

Let us first examine the attack. Attacks on commerce are part of the programme of the guerre de course, that much scorned system which has far more method in its madness than most authorities are wont to allow. It is very easy to take history and prove therefrom that the side which adopted the guerre de course did not win. Therefore, it is argued, the guerre de course is a bruised reed on which to rely.

The facts are correct, but the deduction is often unwarranted. To appreciate the question we must ask—which we never do—how else could that side have won? If we go into the matter a little from this point of view, we shall see that it never had a chance of winning by the 'grand war.' The guerre de course is not, and perhaps was never intended to be, a recipe for victory, but is simply the scheme which promises best to the weaker side which, accepting 'grand war,' ​would accept inevitable and rapid defeat, whereas by a guerre de course it prolongs operations very considerably and knows that before going under it will do some damage. Can we conclude, therefore, that the guerre de course is other than logical for the weaker side?

The best—being the simplest and least confused—instance of the application of a guerre de course is to be found in the Chili-Peruvian War of 1879–1881. In this conflict the two principal Peruvian ships were entirely unfitted to meet the two principal Chilians—a 'grand battle' would have been a foregone conclusion. The possibility of taking the Chilians in detail offered no prospects, since the two Peruvians together were barely equal to one Chilian. Also, one of them, the Independencia, was lost at once, and so the effective Peruvian force was reduced to the turret-ship Huascar.

Peru, therefore, in adopting the guerre de course did the only thing that promised a prolongation of the naval war. The Chilian coast was harried, a Chilian army in the north cut off from its base through the interception of transports, and generally damage was inflicted almost as though no Chilian Fleet existed. Of course the end came at last. The Huascar was caught in Angamos Bay and after a fine fight captured. But what would it have availed Peru had she accepted that battle in the beginning instead of at the end? As things were, much mischief was inflicted, and once at least the Huascar in her depredatory course ​secured an opportunity to torpedo one of the opposing battleships. She failed, because the torpedo did not run truly, but this is the chapter of bad luck rather than anything else. Had she succeeded, the advantages of a guerre de course would have been patent. The 'might have been' is, however, as valuable to our purpose as anything else, since it indicates the possibilities of the strategy adopted by Peru.

The Huascar was further hampered by Chili making what—without dogma—may be called the correct reply. There was a little in the way of splitting up to protect commerce and coasts, The Chilians kept together, having the definite objective of concerning their antagonist always in view. This war then indicates the intelligibility of the Gueree de course as the refuge of the weaker power.

It is, curiously enough, the only instance of it in the ironclad age. In the Austro-Italian war of 1866 the Italian fleet, which was the stronger, wasted its efforts on other objects that the hostile fleet, but hardly sufficiently for the operations to be called guerre de course. The Chino-Japanese war and the Hispano-American conflicts were of the nature of of ships fighting each other, and so also, except partially, was the Russo-Japanese War.

The Exception was the action of the Vladivostok squadron which unfitted to fight successfully with the Japanese cruisers, attempted raids and commerce attack. In this it had some success, and had it not ​been burdened by the company of the slow Rurik, and the loss by grounding of the fast Bogatyr it might have accomplished more. Yet Russia never attempted a properly thought out guerre de course. Her Port Arthur fleet acted with the grand battle in view, and the Vladivostok cruisers at the time of their defeat by Kamimura were apparently engaged, not on a guerre de course, but in trying to join the Port Arthur ships for a grand battle. Moreover, when upon guerre de course cruises, fishing boats seem to have been as acceptable to them as Japanese transports: there was little design in their operations and still less intelligence.

The guerre de course, as a danger to the stronger Sea Power, cannot be gauged from the Russian travesty of it. Let us, however, consider what Russia might have done, had she frankly recognised inferiority after the first torpedo attack. She had at Port Arthur the Bayan, Askold, Diana, Pallada, and Novik—all ships not easily caught and the Bayan at least moderately powerful, and efficiently handled. What might not have been accomplished by these vessels? Sooner or later, each would have been destroyed; but certainly they would have done considerable mischief, which as certainly is what they never accomplished in the war as it was actually conducted. There was always the chance at least that depredations upon the Japanese communications might have seriously impeded Oyama's armies and perhaps raised ​such excitement in Japan that Togo would have been compelled to split his fleet to hunt for them; in which case the Russian battleships might have found some opportunity. Of course, this splitting would have been rather in the category of things hoped for than things to be expected: still it is a possibility of a vigorous guerre de course, and Japanese 'Fitness to win' would have been the only bulwark against it.

There is a reverse side to the shield. The Russians may have desired to attempt some such strategy but failed to see any prospect of getting out on account of the Togo blockade; certainly the answer to it was a rigorous blockade. But to force Togo into accepting the dangers and risk of a close blockade would certainly have been more effective than allowing him to maintain a loose blockade such as sufficed to meet the actual situation.

However, there was no guerre de course proper, and the only modern instance of it is the Chili-Peruvian War already mentioned. Let us now investigate the past and see whether history has anything that bears upon the matter.

Ancient history does not record any characteristic guerre de course: the grand battle sufficed for the ancients' simple aspirations. Combatants of those days were fully persuaded of the advisability of that doctrine, of which Captain Mahan has been the modern apostle, that all sea dominion depends upon the issue of the grand battle. The Peloponnesians beaten by ​the Athenians, simply collected another fleet and tried again. Romans and Carthaginians almost always did the like; and it is only to the Roman operations against the Illyrian pirates that we can turn to find any conspicuous conflict between the grand war and the guerre de course.

In this conflict the seas about Illyria were infested with ships carrying on a general career of piracy—between which and the guerre de course the difference is not excessive, however different the motives may be. Apparently the whole piratical fleet numbered but twenty ships. Against these Rome dispatched two hundred and a considerable army. Each Illyrian base was invested and the ships in it captured or destroyed—in a word, the policy of 'stopping the earths' was carried out. It is worthy of note that Rome appears to have done little in the way of convoys, and nothing in the way of attempted suppression by the system of sending individual ships to 'protect trade routes.'

It is to the sailing ship days that we must look for all other instances—saving always the famous Alabama campaign, which will be dealt with further on. The most remarkable war from the amount of commercial interests involved was the Anglo-Dutch conflict of 1665–1667. Both sides had great commercial interests, indeed the destruction of commerce was an objective to both to a degree that has never been witnessed before or since, though it may one day come between England and Germany.

​Commercial rivalries produced the war; and in England this cause was avowed in Monk's 'What matters this or that reason? What we want is more of the trade which the Dutch now have.'

The usual sea fights occurred with varying results, but on both sides trade suffered heavily—so heavily that both English and Dutch were growing exhausted and anxious for peace. Then it was that, worn with the expense of maintaining great fleets, the English resolved to make the war into a war upon commerce alone, seeing in this the surest way to attack the Dutch pocket and resisting power. The Dutch kept their fleets, and—there being nothing to oppose them—went up the Thames so far as Gravesend; England then signed peace.

This war is a favourite text for those who preach the uselessness of the guerre de course, and the failure of the English in it is used as an illustration. Yet it is necessary to beware of drawing false conclusions. We have always to remember that the guerre de course is ever of the nature of a device for making the best of a poor cause and delaying defeat, rather than a bid for victory. It is naturally an absurd strategy for the stronger side to adopt.

Nominally, the English were the stronger: when they adopted commerce attack as their chief object they had just emerged from a successful fight. Their resources, however, were very strained, and the Great Plague was heavy upon London. The guerre de course ​conducted was a mild sort of affair; at any rate not the most serious that a nation might encounter. Whatever it was, the Dutch met it by proceeding to the English Coast and the Thames. They wasted little or no strength in chasing the English commerce destroyers—the 'Earths' were their objective.

A more serious guerre de course was carried on by the French in their war with England in 1702–12. The Channel and North Sea were covered with privateers, which, however, were unsupported by big fleets and so very liable to capture. Yet the damage done to British shipping was very great indeed. Again in a later war the same policy was pursued. In the four years ending in June 1760, 2,500 English merchantmen had been captured with the loss of 242 privateers. Approximately the 'life' of a privateer was ten British ships.

It has been shown by Captain Mahan that under these conditions British trade prospered and increased: and when the war ended, it was to England's advantage in both cases. But in neither instance can the French system be fairly described as guerre de course proper. This should be borne in mind: because the essential to a successful or partially successful guerre de course is that its infliction of greater losses than have been anticipated, shall so break up and disconcert the stronger sea Power trying to overcome it, that the weaker naval Power shall be able to use its battle fleet with some prospect of success. That is the dangerous ​guerre de course, for which history affords no object lesson unless it be that incident in the Chili-Peruvian War when the Huascar, but for sheer bad luck, would have destroyed half the serious naval force arrayed against Peru.

A final instance of partial guerre de course remains to be quoted—the careers of the Confederate Alabama and her consorts. A total of 261 Northern merchant ships were captured and American trade practically destroyed. This was done on purely piratical lines, that is to say there was no guerre de course having subsequent action by an inferior battle fleet as its objective, but a guerre de course, bent only on sheer mischief, and consequently less dangerous. Yet it annihilated the American merchant marine.

From this it is very easy to draw deductions, plausible in themselves, but considerably more obvious than accurate.

In the first place, beyond some coasting corsairs, only two of the Confederate cruisers issued from Confederate Ports. Of these the Tallahasse (subsequently named Olustee) came from Wilmington and after making some prizes was turned into a blockade runner. She was subsequently seized in England and handed over to the Northerners.

The Sumter, commanded by Semines, slipped through the Northerners' blockade, and was chased afterwards by various Northerners which attempted to block her earths—and finally did so at Gibraltar.

​The other vessels were fitted out at British ports, and though they occasionally ran the blockade into Confederate harbours they chiefly subsisted on the good offices of neutrals. British islands supplied coal contrary to the neutrality laws, but as Northern vessels were similarly accommodated,^[1] the main issue was perhaps not affected.

The career of the Florida ended in Bahia Harbour, Brazil, where she was captured by a Northern vessel in defiance of existing neutrality laws—an act quite morally justifiable. The Florida had practically lived on neutral ports. When neutral remonstrances ensued, she was ordered to be returned to Bahia, but the Northerners wisely saw to it that she sank in Hampton Roads.

The Alabama, the most successful of the commerce-destroyers, was fitted out in England. Under Semmes she had a long run, but was finally earthed at Cherbourg, though here perhaps she might have escaped had she not elected to fight the Kearsage.

The Shenandoah, also fitted out in England, was never captured and continued to the end.

The Georgia ran for a year and was then sold out of the Confederate Service.

The total number of commerce-destroyers was 11 steamers and 8 sailing ships. The steamers destroyed or captured about 215 ships, the sailers 46, — always small craft in the latter case. The captures ​of the steamers varied from 69 to 2 per ship, of which 13 were recaptured, so they averaged about 19 per ship—which is nearly double the average 'life' of the French privateers in the war previously referred to.

The most serious effect of the Southern corsairs was, however, that the terror of them laid up American commerce in neutral harbours or drove it under a neutral flag: and this, it must be remembered, was practically accomplished by half a dozen steamers, for a full half of the corsairs did very little harm indeed. Six ships, therefore, belonging to an absolutely minor naval power (the Confederate States), accomplished a practically permanent destruction of the mercantile marine of a relatively very strong naval power (the Northerners). So far, however, as the main issues of the war were concerned, this commerce destruction accomplished nothing, that is to say it:—

(1) Entirely failed to shake the grip of the Northern blockade (a thing it was perhaps—probably indeed,—designed to accomplish).

(2) In no way affected the victorious march into the Confederate States of the Northern soldiers.

In our examination of the situation, this second consideration need not, however, be given much attention. Indeed, it demands none, save in so far as the action of the Northern Fleet in bringing about the end of the war is concerned, and this overlaps the first consideration.

​The Northern Fleet accomplished, or is credited with having accomplished, two things:—

(1) Its blockade reduced the food and war material supply of the South, and by checking imports and exports very effectually damaged Southern commerce.

(2) By penetrating the Mississippi the Northern Fleet cut the Southern Confederation into two.

The first operation was in its results not very dissimilar to the ideal results of a guerre de course, that is to say it ruined Southern trade very effectually. The situation here, it will be observed, reproduces tolerably closely (despite such differences as the fact that the South was not self-supporting and England in those days was) of the Anglo-Dutch War in the time of Charles II. when England abandoned grand war for commerce war. England was then much in the position of the Southerners, and Holland of the Northerners.

The second operation of the Northern Fleet is more of a compliment to the Northern Navy than the statement of a serious fact. For though all that is alleged is true enough; yet it could all have been accomplished purely by land power in a somewhat longer time. Incidentally, so, perhaps, could the first operation. Once Northern soldiers had got inside a Confederate port, they became more effectual at preventing Confederate ships using the harbour than any number of Northern ships outside, since they destroyed the base.

​This consideration tends to depreciate the value of Sea Power in the campaign: but it is not to be denied on that account. Northern Sea Power accelerated the end of the Confederate States: it did not cause it, because the war was primarily a land war. Except, therefore, in so far as the Northern Fleet contributed to the destruction of bases or the earthing of Southern corsairs its part in the war was merely of the nature of an auxiliary force to the Army.

In attacks on bases it was not very effectively used: more might have been done in this respect had it been well supplied with soldiers to form landing parties in force.

In its operations against the commerce destroyers, its task was in many ways peculiar.

(1) The fitting out of corsairs in England was a situation which could hardly have been anticipated effectively. The laxity of the British Government has, perhaps, been exaggerated; but still laxity existed. It was to have been met, however, once the situation was realised, by the stationing of a strong force in the Channel to intercept any corsairs issuing from British ports. This, of course, would have weakened the blockade of the Southern coast; but that blockade was (in the circumstances) less essential than the suppression of the corsairs.

(2) Throughout the war both sides were granted extraordinary facilities by neutrals. As already mentioned, coal for the express purpose of carrying on ​depredations or for checking depredations in certain waters was to be had for the asking almost anywhere. In addition docking facilities were equally easy to obtain—thirteen Northerners and eleven Confederates being repaired in British ports alone.^[2]

(3) The ships actually preyed upon were mostly sailing vessels: the transition from sail to steam being just then in process of accomplishment. It is infinitely easier for a steamer to intercept sailing vessels, than for steamers to intercept steamers.

Now these three peculiarities will not occur in any future war: nor are any of them to be found in any past_one to an appreciable extent. Consequently the task of the Northerners was unusually hard.

On the other hand it was, in another respect, remarkably easy, in that the corsairs were:—

(a) Few in number.

(b) Of small account as warships.

Therefore, on the grounds of absolute fairness and on the grounds that in examining this matter it is better to over- than under-estimate the danger of commerce attack, we may perhaps with logic, hold that a and b did much to neutralise the peculiar conditions set out under the head of 1, 2, and 3—certainly those under heads 1 and 2.

The matter then still resolves itself into this:—The few corsairs of the insignificant naval power ruined the sea-borne trade of the strong naval power— ​a loss America was far better able to stand than England would be, for such a destruction of commerce would be absolute ruin to the British Empire, and war won at the cost of commerce would be worse than a Pyrrhic victory.

In the Anglo-French wars cited English commerce survived the depredations of French privateers which had lives of approximately 10 merchant ships per corsair. Nineteen ships per corsair destroyed American commerce altogether. Why was this?

The possible reasons may perhaps be given as follows: —

1. Luck.

2. The greater attractions of over-sea trade to the British than to the Americans.

3. The existence of other causes which naturally tended to the decline of American merchant shipping.

4. Better anti-corsair dispositions. Let us examine them in detail.

1. Luck. The question of luck is one that cannot easily be examined. It was probably an important factor: but this is all that can be said about it!

2. Trade Adaptability. Trade was more essential to the English than to the Northerners. This especially acted as regards ships laid up. The inducements to put to sea and take risks were greater with the English. In the Northern States these inducements did not obtain: further, of course, there was the additional disruption of a Civil War almost at the door as it were—for when ​there is nothing but land between a man and the hostile armies, he is very apt to forget the extent of the distance or his own armies barring the way.

3. Decline from other causes. This should by no means be forgotten. The change from wood to iron was of itself sufficient to greatly dislocate the American shipping industry.

4. Anti-corsair dispositions. The English in the war with France carried on a vigorous campaign against the privateers with little mercy and much hate. This tended to render the corsairs nervous, and if one eye was still on attack, one was also always on escape.

To the Confederates 'escape' was less ever present. If captured the crews had no barbarous treatment to dread, they were recognised 'naval men,' and—the war being a civil one—many of them, inspired in their career by the desire of gain as much, or more, than by any convictions, probably had in mind that sides could be changed if the worst came to the worst. Such considerations were of some assistance to them. Then, too, the principal Northern effort was concentrated in the blockade of the Southern Coasts: the ships devoted to dealing with the corsairs were neither many nor, as a rule, well suited to the task. The general dispositions were poor. Individual ships wandered blindly about seeking individual corsairs: only a portion of effort was devoted to 'stopping the earths.' The inordinate number of these 'earths' has already been alluded to: ​also the error made in not stopping egress in the first place from neutral harbours. Had the North devoted greater attention to this question, it is probable that the Southern campaign would have been less successful than it was.

All this has been said before to-day: indeed, points have been strained to show that commerce attack besides being incapable of anything save negative results so far as the success or otherwise of the war is concerned is not necessarily serious in its effects.

On the whole, even though history shows the American Civil War to be almost the only instance of really disastrous results following commerce attack, it is probably extremely dangerous to under-estimate its danger—certainly for a nation situated as the British, whose over-sea trade constitutes the means of existence. Always it must be remembered that— save in the very small case of Chili and Peru—the real guerre de course has never been attempted. A corsair war having results such as the Southern War against commerce would be absolutely fatal to the United Kingdom—and nothing is gained by attempts to minimise it.

The guerre de course must, therefore, be prepared against: and that, too, not a partial and immature attempt such as history only records, but a really scientific guerre de course based on the fact that this form of war is the best for the weaker Power, and that it may be definitely adopted to split the stronger Power's fleets and efforts, because the result of things ​is so felt that an uninformed and non-technical public insists upon such naval dispositions as appeal to its crude judgment. Here lies the most serious danger of all.

In strict International Law a captured merchant ship must be taken to a port of the capturer, where lawyers will argue at great length as to the exact definition of the word contraband, the legality of the capture and half a dozen other things. Were there any guarantee that all such formulæ would be strictly observed, then lawyers would be almost as useful and valuable as cruisers, and the problems of commerce defence much simplified. There is not, however, the slightest prospect that any nation at war is going to tie its hands with legal questions more than it is absolutely compelled to do. When Monk, on the eve of the Anglo-Dutch war made his famous remark, 'What matters this or that reason? What we want is more of the trade that the Dutch now have,'—he uttered an eternal verity, capable of wide application. In any future war in which the British are likely to be engaged and in which British trade is imperilled, the enemy will undoubtedly 'want' that trade. And the want will exceed any respect he may have for International Law that is likely to interfere with his aims.

Consequently the legal aspects of the question may be dismissed as not worth consideration—Might alone will make Right.^[3] Probably only the threat of the ​British Fleet will prevent every neutral harbour being used as a corsair base when convenient: certainly no belligerent will be sufficiently foolish to try and take prizes into his harbours through British cruisers certain to recapture. He will sink them first—just as the Russians (quite soundly) sank everything that they captured and could not take away in their war with Japan.

In a well-conceived guerre de course the capture of British merchant ships for gain will be quite a secondary object. The destruction of British commerce in order to produce financial straits and popular agitation will be the prime objective—and if there exists any Eternal Truth about the strategy of this form of war the prospects of British commerce going the same way as American commerce would be very strong.

Fortunately there is no Eternal Verity in this matter: and the teachings of history to the effect that provided you can escape the enemy you can destroy his merchant ships with impunity is no longer a truth.

With the advance of civilisation two entirely new things have arisen to interfere with the full success of commerce attack: —

(1) Public opinion.

(2) International complications,

(1) Public opinion. This has gradually become a source of grave inconvenience to the corsair. In ​ancient times there was no problem about the crew of the captured ship. Unless they were worth keeping for sale as slaves and so in the same category as 'specie,' their throats were cut and they were thrown overboard.

Then a consensus of public opinion declared against these primitive methods: the merchant sailors must not be injured to this extent. They could still, however, be quickly disposed of by shutting them down in the hold or they could be set adrift in a boat to take their chance.

Again public opinion gradually intervened, and to-day the captured crews must be sumptuously treated, allowed to retain their private property, and generally as little inconvenienced as possible.

The net result of all this is that, whereas in ancient times the actual capture was a matter of two or three minutes, it is now an operation extending over several hours, during all of which time the risk of interference from a hostile warship is great. Yet public opinion is so strong on the matter that the corsair must prefer to risk this to risking seeing his name coupled with an 'Inhuman Outrage' in very large capitals on the Contents Bills of the World's press.

As time goes on these difficulties will continue to grow and increase. Public opinion cannot be defied like purely legal opinions can. Consequently the meaning of private property and effects will be ever-extending, till there will be so much to remove before ​sinking a capture that the task will entail a day or two's work even to a belligerent entirely without regard to International Law. In the Russo-Japanese War it seems to have taken the Russians, with the minimum of regard for public opinion, something like six hours to dispose of a ship after they had overhauled her.

There is, too, the question of the merchant ship that refuses to stop when overhauled. What is to be done? Suppose British merchantmen made a rule of still going on. The enemy, after the necessary number of 'blank shots across the bow' demanded by public opinion, is entitled to put a shot into the machinery or otherwise wing the escaping vessel. He does it and someone gets killed or injured. Public opinion will have headlines about the 'Brave Britisher' and describe the death of the man who got killed as a 'Regrettable necessity.' But it will probably compel the man responsible for firing the fatal shot to go out of his way to express much sorrow and grief for having done what he was perfectly justified in doing, and generally he will have a species of stigma on him for doing it.

There the incident, if a solitary one, will end. But supposing the refusing-to-stop tactics are continued, and more people continue to get hurt. Public opinion will get very excited. The Russians—the least sensitive nation to public opinion—were most heavily censured for firing into the Japanese transport which gave them ​this problem, and it hampered them afterwards to some degree. A nation more sensitive to public opinion would be hampered a great deal more. Probably those responsible would be censured by their own authorities seeking a placebo.

As a result some of the non-stop merchantmen might escape altogether: the corsair fearing to take the responsibility of firing. Then some strong man—determined to check a system that rendered war on commerce null and void—might be expected to arise and fire too well.

The world would have its head-lines on the matter, and the British press would to a certainty be very free with such epithets as 'Murder,' 'Piracy,' and so forth. It would undoubtedly demand that 'Piracy shall be treated as such': it is quite possible that British opinion, duly inflamed, would force the Government to make such a declaration. The position of the wretched corsairs, blamed and threatened on all hands for doing what, after all, they were entitled to do and the only thing they could do, would then become extremely awkward, and commerce attack practically killed.

Between the present state of affairs and this there is only the improbability that any merchant captains would so act. But men with great risks at stake are apt to be obstinate on occasion, and the knowledge that such a non-stop policy would swiftly lead to immunity might outweigh its dangers, especially if the corsair was reducing the nation to desperate straits.

​The reward of escape would be so high that the temptations to brave dangers would be correspondingly great.

Such a death of war against commerce is not necessarily probable, but it is in the possibilities none the less.

(2) International Complications.—In ancient times the neutral was very little inconvenienced if his trade got mixed with the designs of the belligerents. No one lived to give the neutral's version of the matter: and piracy was so common that the disappearance of a merchant ship more or less evoked no surprise. In later times the neutral ship had learned complacency before the belligerents, and its status was in any case that of a blockade-runner. Unless the case was very flagrant, interference with neutrals provoked no comment; it was accepted as part of the eternal order of things.

To-day this is in no way accepted, and in addition, countries are knit by trade relations of an intimacy that is of quite modern origin. For instance, Great Britain and America are connected by innumerable commercial ties, so interwoven in many cases that it is almost impossible to disentangle them. An enormous number of Americans earn their daily bread by growing food and raw material for the British market, and any interference with British over-sea trade would dislocate any number of American interests. Instantly the scene would bristle with delicate international ​complications—a terrible handicap upon any power warring against British commerce. The incessant clashing with the interests of a powerful neutral would be a most serious handicap—how serious it is impossible to determine until it is attempted. At its mildest, it could never be neglected: at its greatest it might render war on British commerce abortive. This is a matter upon which history—save the most recent — has nothing to teach. But there are not wanting indications that neutral powers will only submit to the existence of a war on commerce in view of the fact that they may one day require to carry on such a war, or that they are gaining by it.

There is the case of the Russian Volunteer cruisers for instance. The matter was complicated by some legal technicalities about exit from the Black Sea; but the main issues were on more common grounds than that.

The Russians had very good reason to believe that on board the Malacca was some machinery intended for Japanese destroyers. They intercepted the ship, and found the suspicious articles marked with the British broad-arrow. These—if the Russian story be true—were cheek by jowl with some consignments for Hong Kong dockyard. The Russians were practically given two alternatives 'international complications' or to give up the Malacca without any enquiry as to whether she had anything on board her other than consignments for Hong Kong dockyard.

Now whether or no the Malacca actually had ​contraband on board, the Russian undoubtedly believed that she had, also there is no doubt whatever that any amount of contraband was sent to Japan as Dutch cheeses, agricultural instruments, etc., etc. It was important to Russia to stop these things, but to have gone on doing so practically meant war with Great Britain.

Now the Russian war on commerce was a very mild and half-hearted affair; the sum of it all being more indignation amongst neutral ship owners, loss and inconvenience to neutrals, than worry or loss to Japan. Yet it aroused a great deal of neutral indignation. A war against British commerce to accomplish anything, would have to be on an infinitely larger scale, and the interests of neutrals involved would be infinitely larger than in the few cases Russia managed to make for herself.

Taking these two new conditions together there is no denying that commerce war is not what it was, and the nation that undertakes it on the grand scale will be embarking on an enterprise the limits and dangers of which it can never measure. All this augurs half-hearted operations, which would be comparatively innocuous even if not interfered with by the British Fleet. Probably, therefore, against any one nation British commerce is in far less danger to-day than it was in the old wars with France.

It is not, however, possible to act on that assumption: because the attitude of the neutral powers might ​be sufficiently unfriendly, or they might see sufficient gain to themselves in the destruction of British commerce to waive their more immediate interests. This is at least a possibility. So, too, is a combination, and always the real guerre de course is the danger to be guarded against—that is to say a war against commerce supplemented by occasional action or attempted action of battleships.

It has, further, to be borne in mind that the platitude 'Commerce destruction cannot win a war,' is useless, when no British victory can atone for the loss of the world's carrying trade which, once lost, is hardly likely to be regained. Hence, therefore, commerce must not only be protected from destruction: it must also be so defended that it can be carried on with comparative impunity.

There are two ways by which this end may be sought—the first by a vigorous offensive on the hostile fleet and a blockade so severe that very few commerce destroyers or cruisers can get out and fewer still return. The objective, however, would not be the commerce destroyers but the enemy's fleet in general, by the destruction of which a still more vigorous blockade would be assured and the number of possible corsairs very materially lessened. If necessary, even commerce should be sacrificed for the single end of destroying the enemy's fleet. Combined with this system a few powerful cruisers, easily able to destroy any corsair met with, would perhaps be stationed off ​certain points upon which the trade routes converge, but there would be no patrols stationed along the trade routes and the minimum of division of forces.

This approximately embodies the modern naval view of how commerce attack should be met. It is, incidentally, how the Dutch successfully met the English attempt to fight a commerce-destroying war in the time of King Charles II. It is how the Romans successfully met the Illyrian pirates. It is also in part —how the Northerners—very unsuccessfully for their trade—met the Southern war on commerce.

A perception—an over perception—of this last point is the characteristic of the popular view of how commerce should be protected. It should be understood that the popular realisation of all that commerce attack might mean is in all probability greater than the naval realisation of it: and probably the popular estimate of this danger is better to accept than the naval one, certainly that naval one which bases any of its arguments upon the old platitude that war against commerce cannot bring victory.

Now, in the popular view there is only one way in which commerce can effectively be protected. This way consists in covering the seven seas with cruisers 'patrolling the trade routes.' These cruisers, we are told, do not need to be very powerful or very fast; a fairly good speed and numbers, especially numbers, will suffice.

This idea, is on the surface, fairly plausible; and

​many years ago at the time of the Naval Defence Act it was god-fathered by many distinguished retired admirals who had the old wars with France in mind, and failed to realise that the conditions which then obtained will never be reproduced in the future.

The future will see no more little privateers: letters of marque cannot be resuscitated. Public opinion will not sanction the privateer; and all corsairs will be either orthodox cruisers or else armed liners—the supply of which is by no means very numerous. The 'any moderately fast vessel' days are over—a fair speed and a good coal supply are essential to a corsair.

It is doubtful also, whether many fast liners are available as corsairs. In the first place few Powers have many, in the next such vessels are likely to be found very excellent and much needed as destroyers of destroyers, since they can be so much more safely risked than cruisers.

However, if the swifter be used as corsairs, the popular 'cruiser patrols' are not likely to concern them much; as little cruisers will never catch a liner designed always to travel at top speed.

Supposing the hostile armoured cruisers to be utilised, again the popular cruisers do not promise well. They can do little save get sunk with a loss of men that will entail in pension funds about as much money as the value of any mercantile shipping that they are ever likely to protect.

What in fine can they do at all?

​When we come to consider it—nothing, except with great good luck. Weak units—and numbers must mean relatively weak units—cannot even act as scarecrows. Spread over the ocean they would be merely so many attractive prizes to armoured corsairs. Grouped at strategical points they would be little more dangerous—a single large hostile cruiser with moderately large guns could steam round and sink them out of range of their pop-guns. Protected cruisers on the trade routes would benefit no British traders at all, unless it were the makers of monuments to the departed.

Consequently armoured cruisers must be employed. These are necessarily few: and to send them scouring the ocean on the off chance of meeting an enemy would be wasting them completely. They are much better employed from bases, whence they can observe hostile harbours and run down anything that issues out and catch anything trying to return.

The rub is that something now and again is sure to get out; and having got out, to do some mischief. It will be difficult to convince the British public that a corsair getting out is hardly likely to average one prize a day and hardly likely to be able to go more than a week without coaling. Wherever it goes to coal will be its 'earth,' and there, ere it can reissue, a big armoured cruiser with a large coal endurance ought to be able to get and wait for it coming out.

Supposing the 'earth' to be a neutral harbour, it ​must in most cases be left within twenty-four hours on pain of internment; and a big cruiser outside is likely to make internment accepted easily.

On the whole, therefore, provided only the British public can keep its head and accept a few losses as inevitable, the system of stopping earths is almost bound to succeed reasonably quickly; whereas the alternative system of patrols and ocean hunting, promises no success whatever, besides being a system which allows a totally unnecessary number of hostile cruisers to get out on the high seas. Those who advocate the small cruisers on patrol are really no more logical than he who would suggest that instead of destroying the nest individual hornets should be slain on the wing.

On the whole there is only one really serious danger. This is that some large corsair might manage to slip out crammed with prize crews and small guns, and, with a gun and some men convert every tramp captured into an armed tender.^[4] It is the kind of thing that some power—Germany for instance—might think of attempting. The commerce war would then be on a species of snowball system, and incalculable mischief might be done. In such a case only drastic measures could save British trade. There would probably be nothing for it but to declare all commerce attack except by proper warships 'Piracy' and to treat it as such.

Of course, all commerce attack is really legalised piracy: and the old system of commerce defence which, ​if not avowing the letter of this, accepted the spirit and acted on it, had much to recommend it. Only very great necessity, however, would allow of such action being taken now-a-days. I once at the Royal United Service Institution read a paper in which it was tentatively suggested that if we declared that for every merchant ship captured we should destroy some unfortified town of the enemy, the mere threat of this would ensure perfect safety to commerce. A number of distinguished admirals, however, rose one after the other and with perfect unanimity condemned the scheme in most scorching terms on the grounds that it was brutal and inhuman. Public opinion would no doubt say the same about the hanging of corsairs' crews. At the same time both remain as England's demiers ressorts—and might seem more reasonable in the stress of war than when calmly discussed in peace.

Still there is every reason to believe that such a necessity ought not to arise, if only the British public representing the interests concerned can be persuaded that whatever defence scheme may be organised by the Navy, and whatever seeming failures may result, the really serious failures would arise over a scheme, half naval and half designed to satisfy popular notions as to what is most likely to constitute safety.

If past history of Parliament is any criterion Members of Parliament are probably the most dangerous menace. Compelled by the nature of things to voice any popular clamour, however 'engineered,' they ​are in the habit of reading up whatever subject is to the fore. Such hasty cramming tends to produce an intellectual pâte de foie gras: and the better the intentions the worse the result.

Compare, for instance, the anti-Belleville agitation of a few years ago. With the introduction of Bellevilles there were the troubles incidental to any new departure—they may fairly be compared to the losses that our commerce would sustain in war. The judgment of the Navy was set aside, and a tribunal, practically civilian, appointed to re-judge the matter. In the result the Navy was fitted with five alternatives of which three failed at once and the other two burn far more coal, cannot be repaired upon board ship if damaged in action; and are generally un-equal to the discarded boilers of naval choice. For this travesty of efficiency Members of Parliament, perfectly well intentioned, were mainly responsible. In due course the Navy may reassert itself and the Belleville type be returned to—but what has happened in the meantime?

The danger is acute that were we involved in a commerce war, a similar display of lay as against professional judgment would be witnessed, with results more deplorable than it is possible to estimate.

Right or wrong, the scheme for defence of commerce must be left to the Navy alone, and the naval plan of a vigorous offensive, of 'stopping earths,' of acting as the Eomans against the Illyrians, as the ​Dutch against the English, has far more to recommend it than any scheme resting on a negative defence.

A final word may be added about convoys. These in the old days were rarely very successful: the principal problem being the difficulty of keeping the merchantmen together. That difficulty would probably be still greater to-day. Moreover, unless the enemy's ports are sufficiently blockaded to prevent the egress of anything but isolated ships, a convoy merely offers in these days of telegraphs and full information a splendid prize already prepared for the enemy. The trade loss of waiting for convoy is also probably considerable — convoy must, therefore, be regarded as a very heavy insurance.

National insurance is probably a better system; as under it the suffering shipowner would have no cause to rouse plaints, and so there would be nothing to interfere with the maintenance of that vigorous offensive by the Navy in which the surest salvation lies. It cannot too frequently or emphatically be laid down that for success the Navy must be unhampered with popular plans, and it must be free to leave commerce to look after itself for a while should the need and occasion arise.

For a nation to exhibit the necessary patience and confidence in such circumstances (on a small scale Japan in 1904–5 is an example) requires the existence of that quality which elsewhere has been described as ​'Fitness to win,' and perhaps in this Fitness to win may be found the surest security of the survival of commerce in war.

Japan did it without 'national insurance,' but her trade ran no great risks and in no way compared with British trade in importance. Also ' public opinion ' was less of a factor. She cannot therefore be accepted as a criterion. Arguments against national insurance are easily found, but the matter is not to be settled by nicely balanced pros and cons. It is broad generalities that are at issue. And these really whittle down to one thing: to whether the Navy is to be given a free hand to do as it thinks best or whether it is to be hampered in its operations by popular fancy raised to fever heat by mercantile losses. If the naval system of 'earth stopping ' be correct, national insurance will be a very small burden: if it be wrong, national insurance becomes a duty. Eight or wrong, it is an insurance against Parliament interfering with naval strategy; that is to say an insurance against certain disaster.