The naval policy of the United States, confirmed by many years of practice, is to maintain a very small floating force. That a similar policy will be continued in the future there can be no reasonable doubt. Such is the will of the people, and naval officers, while accepting the popular decree, must endeavor in good faith to make up for numerical inferiority by excellence of organization and thoroughness of drill. Military and naval histories are not wanting in great examples of discipline more than compensating for disparity of numbers.
Hence, as a supplement to the policy of keeping up a comparatively small navy, must come the policy of greatly increased attention to the question of reserves and to all the exercises which can best prepare the personnel for the great object to which it owes its existence—war. To furnish the best results, these exercises should be carried on systematically and progressively from early youth to mature age.
War is the best school of war; but if we can substitute some other and less expensive method of instruction, we go just so far towards attaining that state of preparation which is the surest guarantee against war. For if war is the great object in maintaining a military and naval establishment, the prevention of war is a still greater object. That fact cannot be too strongly emphasized. The prophylactic system is the wisest in this as in other cases, and it is just here that we find ourselves in touch with the Universal Peace Societies.
It is the trained athlete who enjoys the greatest immunity from aggression. The cloud of war which has so long been hovering over Europe has not burst, simply because all the great powers are prepared for it.
The ideal system of training comprehends mental, moral, and physical culture. One of the deepest thinkers and closest reasoners of modern times remarks that the man who, in danger or upon the approach of death, preserves his tranquility unaltered, and suffers no word, no gesture to escape him which does not perfectly accord with the feelings of the most indifferent spectator, necessarily commands a very high degree of admiration.
The heroes of ancient and modern history, he continues, who are remembered with the most peculiar favor and affection, are, many of them, those who in the cause of truth, liberty, and justice have perished upon the scaffold, and who behaved there with that ease and dignity which became them.
War, he explains, is the great school for acquiring and exercising this kind of magnanimity. Death, as we say, is the king of terrors, and the man who has conquered the fear of death is not likely to lose his presence of mind at the approach of any other natural evil. In war men become familiar with death, and are thereby necessarily cured of that superstitious horror with which it is viewed by the weak and inexperienced. They consider it merely as the loss of life, and as no further the object of aversion than as life may happen to be that of desire; they learn from experience, too, that many seemingly great dangers are not so great as they appear, and that with courage, activity, and presence of mind, there is often a good probability of extricating themselves with honor from situations where at first they could see no hope. The dread of death is thus greatly diminished, and the confidence or hope of escaping it augmented. They learn to expose themselves to danger with less reluctance; they are less anxious to get out of it, and less apt to lose their presence of mind while they are in it. It is this habitual contempt of danger and death which ennobles the profession of the soldier, and bestows upon it, in the natural apprehension of mankind, a rank and dignity superior to that of any other profession. The skillful and successful exercise of this profession in the service of their country seems to have constituted the most distinguishing feature in the character of the favorite heroes of all ages.
The word "soldier" is used here in its generic sense, and applies equally to those who fight under the flag of their country, whether at home or abroad, whether on land or at sea. But if we make a distinction between those who embrace the profession of arms on land, or the "soldier" proper, and those who pass their lives at sea in the service of their country, then are the observations in respect to the profession of the soldier far more applicable to that of the sailor.
During long years of peace the life of a soldier is one of comparative inactivity, and unattended by those dangers that "try men's souls." It is not so with the sailor. For although his country may enjoy continuous peace, yet he himself is constantly battling with the elements. His whole life may be said to be passed in confronting danger.
"They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in great waters, see the works of the Lord and his wonders of the deep; their soul is melted because of trouble, and they are at their wits ends," was not written by the Psalmist of men who pass their lives in ease.
The constant contending with winds and seas develops those rare qualities in the sailor, the exercise of which is demanded in a like degree by no other calling. Of this familiarity with difficulty and danger comes a contempt for it, as was remarked of the soldier inured to war. Hence that quality of reckless daring so characteristic of the sailor—a quality of inestimable value in war.
Formerly, the best and most thorough school of training for the young seaman was on board the merchant sailing ship engaged in foreign trade. This was due to the smaller crew of a merchant ship as compared to a ship-of-war, and, as a consequence, the greater and more constant demand for personal exertion; to the more economical fitting of rigging, sails and spars, which increased the chances of casualties; and to the urgent necessity for making quick passages in the interests of the owners, which required the "carrying on" of sail. A youngster's first tussle with a royal in a fresh breeze will long live in the memory of the man. He has no time to feel dizzy or sea-sick, nor does it matter whether he hangs on by his teeth or his toes. He must, unaided, roll up that royal and pass the sea-gasket, and do it, too, in a reasonable time, or somebody would know the reason why. From that he goes to wrestle with an obdurate topgallant-sail in a stiffish blow; to stowing a jib when every 'scend of the ship would seem to plunge him in the angry seas; to taking in a close reef. Rain and sleet and snow and ice and dark nights, and gleams of lightning giving a transient view of the wild seas, and deafening thunder, are accompaniments which he must take as they come.
"Though the tall mast should quiver as a reed,
And the rent canvas, fluttering, strew the gale,
Still must he on"
The wonder often is that he can do any work at all aloft under such circumstances; that he has any mind or strength beyond that which is absolutely necessary to self-preservation.
THE SCHOOL OF THE TOPMAN.
No one can deny that what may be called the school of the topman on board a man-of-war is, or at least at one time was, one of the most difficult and perilous that could be undertaken by men in time of peace. Seafaring people whose duties rarely, if ever, carry them above the vessel's rail, are often appalled by the dangers of the sea. What, then, shall be said of those whose habitual duty is high up on the "giddy mast"—far above the rail? The duty of the young sailor on board a square-rigged sailing vessel is principally aloft, where it would seem to require all his care and strength to keep from falling to certain death. This is true even under the most favorable circumstances, as, for example, when loosing, furling, bending or unbending sails while at anchor and in pleasant weather. The slipping of the foot, the missing of the hold, or the parting of a rope may readily send one to inevitable destruction. How much, then, are those risks increased when the ship is in heavy weather at sea! One would suppose that at sea the sailor aloft had as much as he could do to hold on for dear life, to say nothing of doing anything like real work. But sail must be reduced as the storm comes on, and the "common sailor," as he is called, must reef and furl, as the case may be, let appearances be never so uninviting; for the safety of sails and spars, nay, of the ship itself and all her crew is often dependent upon his exertions. He is cool and self-possessed in the presence of this imminent danger, and works as only brave and hardy men long accustomed to danger can work, and the sails are reefed or furled and safety insured through his courage and endurance.
Heavy rain-squalls may make the canvas as hard and stiff as boards, and blinding snow-storms benumb his limbs, and night add its terrors to the scene, till the heart of the boldest may well quail with fear, and yet the true sailor, noways daunted, speeds him to his task. It is not uncommon to find "ordinary" seamen, not wanting in manliness, but whose previous experience has been confined to "fore-and-afters," absolutely refuse under such conditions to lay out on the yards. They would, as far as they were concerned, allow the sails to thrash themselves to ribbons first, and no coaxing or driving could induce them to leave the security of the tops.
Thorough seamen, on the other hand, would lay out on the yards, not only without fear, but with a certain degree of cheerfulness, let it blow high or blow low, and having accomplished their end, would come down from their perilous labors with the utmost unconcern, just as if their conduct were not beyond all praise. This total unconsciousness of his own high merit is certainly not the least admirable trait of the sailor's character.
The two representative seamen just referred to, the one who braves danger and he who shuns it, form an interesting and instructive study. On deck, in pleasant weather, there is to the casual observer little to distinguish one from the other in their capacity of sailor; but viewed under the conditions just depicted there is a marked contrast.
In the one, the entire mental, nervous, and muscular systems are under the absolute dominion of the instinct of self-preservation. To grasp and retain hold of the nearest object which promises adequate support engages his whole thought. He is breathless through his exertions in going aloft, bewildered by the warring of the elements and a general sense of insecurity, and the sum of all the work of which he is capable is to save himself from being blown out of the rigging into the raging sea.
In the other we find total self-abnegation. The rolling and pitching of the ship, the loud flapping of the canvas heard above the howling gale, the surging of the yard, the driving rain, the blackness of the night, all combined have no terrors for him. With no thought of himself, his energies are all centered in the work before him. How he manages to get from the rigging to the yard and thence to the yard-arm, and why when there he is not shaken off into the sea, seems little less than a miracle. But he is there for a purpose, and that purpose he accomplishes, and accomplishes well. For the time and place, he is possessed of all the attributes of heroism.
Says a recent writer on physiology: "The man accustomed to use his muscles seems to obtain from them, without effort, a much more considerable amount of work, and this without an increase in the muscular fibers sufficient to account for the greater ease with which they contract. The nerve seems to transform a moderate stimulus, which passes along it, into an energetic one, and a man accustomed to work performs, without effort of will, movements which would formerly have caused him excessive voluntary strain."
"The power of automatism acquired by daily practice comes to our aid constantly in the performance of difficult and rapid movements."
"It is incontestable that certain faculties of the soul come into play in bodily exercise to excite the contraction of muscles and to co-ordinate movements; it is also incontestable that these faculties are improved and developed by exercise."
"The faculties which preside over the co-ordination of movements are developed by the performance of difficult exercises, and their improvement endows a man with the quality we call skill."
It is impossible for any young man to go through the school of the topman and become an able seaman, referring always to the sailing ship, without having his moral being permanently affected by it. Indeed, it is well known that such an experience does affect character, and has endowed the sailor with those high qualities of self-reliance, endurance, courage, and patience under difficulties which have always characterized him.
We venture here to quote Dr. Lagrange once more:
"The faculty which orders a muscle to act and which gives it the stimulus necessary for its contraction is called the Will: it also is developed and improved by the repeated use made of it. It shows its acquired superiority in the sphere of movement by a greater persistence of effort, by a greater tenacity in muscular action. The person who every day, in spite of the different pains of fatigue, sustains energetic and prolonged muscular efforts, acquires a greater power of Willing, and from this acquisition result certain very striking changes in his moral disposition. The habituation to work gives to a man greater energy of will considered as a motor force, and from this change of a moral order, as much as from that of a material order, results a particular form of courage which we may call Physical Courage."
"Physical courage is manifestly increased by the practice of muscular exercises. It is almost exclusively in men whose daily work is laborious, or who are given to violent exercises, that we see bold and energetic actions. The practice of muscular work and the habituation to bodily exercise dispose a man to brave all forms of material danger."
"In difficult exercises [such as our topmen were formerly subjected to], all the psychical faculties associate in the work of the muscles; hence arise the most characteristic conditions of difficult exercises: they need brain-work. Judgment, memory, comparison, will, such are the psychical factors which preside over their performance. The cerebrum, the cerebellum, the sensory nerves, are organs whose very active concurrence is indispensable."
Seamen accustomed to running up the rigging four and five times a day, sometimes when at sea oftener—itself one of the severest of physical exercises,—to constant rowing in boats, often for long distances, and the handling of heavy guns, put forth "energetic and prolonged muscular efforts" to an extent hardly contemplated by the author.
The abolition of sails, the use of the hydraulic or pneumatic gun carriage, and the indiscriminate use of the steam-launch has put an end, in a very great measure, to such severe physical training. This by way of parenthesis. To continue:
The school of the topman was, literally, the school of danger, as we have seen, and it prepared the man-of-wars-man, as no other school could, for his duties at the gun. The gun-captain, above all, must be possessed of those very qualities which were the product of the severe training of topmen—physical courage, self-possession, endurance, and the automatic movements due to habituation.
There is, or at least there was, not a little in the training of the young sailor that reminds one of the Spartan youth as moulded by Lycurgus after the Dorian model. The young Spartan was reared to a life of hardship, privation, and discipline. He was trained to courage, and taught acuteness, promptness, and discernment—qualities essential to a soldier. Such an education, the historian tells us, produced an athletic frame, simple and hardy habits, an indomitable patience and quick sagacity. "Their bodies," says Gillies, "were early familiarized to fatigue, hunger and watching; their minds were early accustomed to difficulty and danger."
Somewhat analogous to the training of the sailor as a preparation for war on the ocean, was the chase as a preparation for war on land. The chase was not inappropriately termed "mimic war."
Wellington was always ready to praise the dash, courage, and endurance of his regimental officers, the sons of English squires and the younger sons of the aristocracy. They had been brought up to ride to the hounds, and to acquire, in early youth, a quick eye, a ready hand, and a good digestion. With these came the moral qualities, courage and endurance. The history of our own wars furnishes similar examples.
THE DECK-HAND.
In attempting to present a picture of the sailor "handing and reefing" in bad weather, there is no wish to convey the idea that bad weather is the rule at sea, or that the sailor was always to be found at the weather-earring. On the contrary, during a three years' cruise on some stations, the gale may prove a rare exception. The point is simply that when the danger does come, the sailor, by virtue of long training, is prepared to meet it, not only on the topsail yard, but wherever it may overtake him or in what form so ever it may come. Battle is only another form of danger, and as he has but one life, it makes little difference to him whether he loses it at the hands of an enemy or through the perils of the sea.
It is an interesting question as to how far the character of the sailor, as heretofore known, has been and is yet to be modified by the use of steam as a means of propulsion.
By the multiplication of steam machinery the artisan is saved much labor, and the sailor has come in for his full share of the manifold benefits conferred by steam.
It is no longer by his constancy and skill that his sails are trimmed to the ever varying winds and his vessel turned again and again to her course. The powers of a thousand horses are now harnessed in his service, and his vessel is driven on in spite of winds and seas. What labor he is saved! What days he is spared of baffled skill and deferred hopes and all their chastening influences! What dangers he escapes! What exemption from a thousand perils! To-day the sailor may enjoy his repose on deck even during the heaviest gale at sea, albeit the firemen and coal-heavers are sweating out their lives feeding the insatiable maw that creates the motive power.
Formerly to get a frigate under way and stand out to sea required the presence on deck of the entire crew. It was an operation that called for the exercise of skill on the part of the officers, and the utmost promptness and alacrity on the part of the sailors. The same was true of entering port and coming to an anchor. How is it now? The complement of the Chicago is, let us say, three hundred and eighty-odd men. Of these there will be about one hundred belonging to the engineer's force. Throwing out the latter and the special class of petty officers, messmen, band, etc., there will be left about two hundred and ten or fifteen petty officers, seamen, landsmen, and boys. Of these two hundred and ten or fifteen it requires just two to take the ship to sea—one at the steam steering wheel, the other at the lead. We are not considering the engineer's force. That force does all the work in getting up steam, firing, running the engines, etc. Our present inquiries lead us to the deck. There we find, in round numbers, some two hundred seamen of various classes. What part do they take in getting the ship to sea or on entering port? No part whatever. It is proper on such occasions to station hands at the life-buoys, at the engine-room bell, on the lookout, at the signals, and the life-boat's crew at their boat ready for service. These are all positions of inactivity, calling for no mental or muscular exertion. On going to sea, the anchor once catted and fished, which may be done chiefly by means of a steam winch, the man at the wheel and the man at the lead are the only two of the two hundred who are called upon to take an active part in the operation. The one hundred and ninety-eight might as well be asleep in their hammocks for all the use they are in the management of the ship. So far from being of any use, the question is what to do with the crowd of men who are lounging about the decks. And it is this same question of what to do with the crew, how profitably to employ them, that frequently comes up on board the sail-less steamer.
In bad weather at sea the steamship sailor will naturally "get in out of the rain." There is nothing in particular for him to do, and he does nothing but make himself as comfortable as circumstances admit. The man at the wheel is sheltered by the pilot-house; the men on the lookout alone have to expose themselves.
It is to the mercantile marine that navies in general look for their reserves of seamen in time of war. Let us consider then, for a moment, what kind of sailor the mercantile marine is producing. The great majority of tonnage in that service is found in steam vessels. The crews are made up of the engineer's force and the deck-hands. The latter have comparatively little work to do. The merchant Steamer, when loaded by stevedores, casts off her lines, steams out from her dock and proceeds to sea. There is one man at the wheel. As the pilot takes charge, there is no one at the lead. The crew clear up the decks and make everything secure for sea. Thanks to steam, there is little or nothing for the deck-hand to do while at sea. On reaching her port of destination the vessel goes to her dock, throws out her lines and makes fast. Voyage after voyage is made without even so much as lowering a boat.
With such slight demands on the muscular and mental activities, the deck-hand could not exist on the food once thought good enough for a sailor. Fortunately, with the change in the mode of life comes a greatly improved dietary system. But even with the latter improvement, it does not seem possible that the deck-hand can get enough bodily exercise to keep him in the best condition. Says Lagrange, to quote that authority once more, "Muscular exercise has a considerable influence on the process of nutrition, and it is to this influence that are due the changes which occur in the conformation of a person whose muscles are habitually in action." What comes of no muscular exercise?
There are numerous examples of individual heroism among deckhands, but it can scarcely be said of them, as a class, that their daily labors are such as to contribute to a high physical development and the physical courage which accompanies it.
Another quality found in the sailor was his contentment with ship life. He was, to borrow a phrase from the scientist, in perfect correspondence with his environment. The long sea-voyages in sailing ships during his minority habituated him to the life and its attendant hardships. He soon learned to content himself with an environment which would be intolerable to a landsman. But, owing to the quick passages made by steamers and the comparatively short time actually spent at sea, the deck-hand does not become habituated to ship-life—his preference is for the shore.
In the event of our becoming engaged in a maritime war, the deckhands of our merchant steamers would soon find their way into the navy and form parts of the complements of our crews.
This would not be so deplorable as at first glance might seem, for the tendency in the navy itself is to man our ships with deckhands. We say the tendency is in that direction, how far off so ever may be the end to be accomplished.
Let us begin, as has been suggested, by putting the naval apprentice in barracks on shore, where he may be perfected in infantry drill, with a little marline-spike seamanship thrown in. After a course of soldiering on shore he will be put on board a steam practice ship, as has also been suggested, to steam in and out of port when the weather is pleasant, and to play at making sail when the wind is fair. From this he goes to a schooner-rigged steamship, or one with military masts, in the general service, where his instruction as an infantryman and marine artillerist is continued ad infinitum.
The difference between the man so trained and the deck-hand of a merchant steamer is one of degree only. Neither one is a sailor, nor possessed of the admirable characteristics of the sailor, while the sphere of action of both is confined to the deck. The trained man is, of course, the superior in general intelligence, orderly habits, discipline, and knowledge of arms; but he is not a sailor. And herein we find another of the many examples of history repeating itself; for we would, under such a system, have much the same general division of labor that prevailed on board the Roman war galley; that is to say, the rowers who furnished the motive power of the galley would be represented by the engineer's force, and the classarii milites, or fighting men, would be represented by the marine artilleryman. There was a third class mentioned in the accounts of the Greek and Roman navies of the ancient civilization, but it seems to have excited little attention at the hands of the historian; this class was called mariners. They attended to the work about the vessel and had the care of such sails as were used.
It is generally conceded that if sails are to be abolished, sailors will no longer be needed. But seamen the navy can never dispense with.
If, on the other hand, sails are to be retained, then the sailor class must continue to exist; and it will be for the naval administrator to determine how best to shape the course of naval training so as to combine all the good qualities which have heretofore characterized the sailor, with those which go towards the "make-up" of the seaman-gunner. Now, have we advanced sufficiently far in our knowledge of steam and electricity to warrant dispensing with the wind as a motive power?
SAILS.
The first essential in the discussion of questions affecting naval policy is to state the end proposed: whether we are always to act on the strictly defensive, or whether, in case of being forced into war, we are to be prepared to assume the offensive whenever such a course seems wisest.
A naval policy is largely the result of racial characteristics. The instincts of one race may lead to one line of policy; those of another race to quite another line. Thus one race may be brave and chivalric and excel in individual genius, and yet have no aptitude for foreign trade, or taste for maritime affairs of any description. Having no love for the sea, they would keep within their own borders. "We are a self-supporting people," they would say; "why concern ourselves with ancient laws of exchange of commodities with the effete monarchies to the east and to the west of us? We are a law unto ourselves."
Under such a regime our national policy would scarcely reach beyond our own boundaries. Motives of economy, rather than public utility, would control the development of the navy, and defensive tactics govern its operations.
As the navy would be for harbor defense only, the original monitor type would serve the purpose. The coal-yard and the dry-dock would always be within easy reach, hence there would be no need of masts nor sails, nor yet sailors, nor would the vessel's bottom require copper sheathing. The time of such vessels, when in commission, would be spent at a wharf, for convenience of landing the crew for infantry drill. Meanwhile our fisheries would die out, and the American flag would disappear from the seas.
Under the dominion of another race, one, let us say, with an hereditary genius for maritime affairs, a different policy would obtain. If, for example, the Anglo-Saxon race continues to shape the destinies of these United States, then it is probable that we shall see a gradual revival of American shipping, the relegation of our foreign trade to American bottoms, and a return to our former naval policy. For among the characteristics of the Anglo-Saxon race are to be noted successful enterprise in foreign trade and a love for the sea.
This is no place to discuss the relative merits of the two systems. Each one is consistent in its several parts, and has its claims to consideration. But a line of naval development should proceed on one theory or the other.
The naval policy entered upon shortly after the close of the war of 1812 was that of a maritime people noted for enterprise and sagacity in mercantile affairs. Our "white-winged" commerce spread over the most distant seas, and thither our war-ships followed to give it moral and material support, whether the trader itself at sea, the-merchant in a distant land, or our representatives accredited to foreign governments. Our ships, though few in number, were the best of their kind, and represented every class. We had fast frigates to overhaul merchantmen, and noble battle-ships that could stand up to any foreign battle-ships they were likely to fall in with abroad. The battle-ships were constructed on the theory, that while they furnished the best system for the outer line of coast defense, they could, if required, be sent on long cruises in distant seas. They were used as flag-ships on foreign stations, a certain number being held in reserve. They were "unwieldy" only in the imaginations of those who had never sailed in them.
A revival of our early naval policy would call for a battle-ship on each foreign station, with a proportionate number of cruisers in addition.
Formerly our ships were in a large measure self-sustaining. They are not so now. Having no outlying stations for coaling, docking, or repairing, and being entirely dependent on the good-will of those who, in a maritime war, might find it to their interests to throw impediments in the way of our receiving aid, the rig of our ships and the preservation of their bottoms from fouling become questions of the highest importance. As the character, moreover, of the average ship will qualify the character of the average crew, it is germane to our subject to bestow a passing glance on the rig of war-ships in general. This we may do without venturing to argue the questions involved.
According to the prevailing systems of naval tactics, the battle-ship finds her principal role in the line of battle. As her province is to fight in concert with other battle-ships, she should excel in maneuvering qualities, hence she is provided with twin screws. If, during battle, one screw becomes disabled, she is not thereby rendered helpless, for she can keep moving by means of the duplicate screw. To navigate under sail, she would require such enormous spread of canvas that, considering her peculiar character as a fighting machine, it has been thought better to give her none at all. Instead of sails, therefore, she is provided with two heavy upright spars called "military masts," from the tops of which sharpshooters, screened by steel shields, may fire down upon the decks of opposing battleships as they crash by each other in the shock of battle. The military mast will be also used as a place of observation during battle. In the latest additions to the French ironclad navy they are so used. The French battle-ships Le Hoche and L'Amiral Baudin have on their military masts places especially designed for the commanding officer and the torpedo officer, from whence, overlooking the field of battle, they can direct the movements of their ship, distinguish in the melee friend from foe, and send out their torpedoes intelligently. Farragut first suggested and practiced this plan. The battle-ship, moreover, does not let go of her base of supplies, unless indeed she can fight her way to the enemy's coal-pile.
The role of the cruiser is altogether different. She has no place in the line of battle. Her maneuvering qualities need not be so great as to sacrifice for them certain other desirable qualities, hence she does not require twin screws. She will, as a rule, cruise singly, and fight single-handed, and, presumably, not at very short range. As a "commerce destroyer," which is, according to our authorities, the principal office of the steel cruiser, she will roam the seas in quest of prey, and remain out during long periods. She should therefore have full sail power, and her bottom should be protected from fouling. She severs herself completely from her base; hence the more self-supporting she can be made, the more efficient she will prove in war. If it is established, as now seems likely, that twin screws give better general results than single screws, then they should be made to uncouple.
The new steel cruiser is known familiarly as a paper-sided ship, to express the ease with which her sides may be penetrated and her vitals reached by guns of very small caliber, such as are assigned to secondary batteries. To give the "paper-sided" commerce destroyer the characteristics of an armor-clad battle-ship proves one of two things: either that the prevailing systems of naval tactics are fundamentally wrong, or that—but this is wandering from our subject.
The first Naval Advisory Board, assembled under the Department's order of June 29, 1881, was composed of the best representative talent of the navy. Rear-Admiral John Rodgers, one of the most distinguished officers our navy has produced, was president of the Board. Chief Engineer B.F. Isherwood represented the Engineer Corps with marked ability, and John Lenthall, one of the ablest naval architects of his day in this or in any country, stood for the Corps of Naval Constructors. The Board was unanimous in recommending single screws and full sail-power for cruisers.
For convenience of reference we subjoin a table of sail areas, giving the proportion of sail spread by one of the old sailing ships, the Constellation; by the steam sloops-of-war, and by the steel cruisers, with a view to establishing a comparison between the several classes.
SAIL AREAS.
"As a rule, there should be given about 36 square feet of plain sail to every square foot of midship section."—(Theo. D. Wilson, Chief Constructor, U. S. Navy.)
"The Board is of the opinion that all classes [of ships recommended] should have full sail-power, the amount of sail surface not to be less than twenty-five times the area of the immersed midship section."—(Report of Advisory Board of June 29, 1881.)
"In place of the second-rate 14 knots vessels of the spar-deck type recommended by the majority, we propose to substitute ship-rigged first-rates of the single-deck type ... of 4354 tons displacement and 20,000 square feet of sail surface."—(Minority report of Advisory Board of 1881.)
| Area of Midship Section | Area of Plain Sail | Square Feet of Sail to 1 Foot of Midship Section |
Constellation | 545 | 18,000 | 33 sailing ship |
Brooklyn | 628 | 19,327 | 30.77 wood, single screw |
Richmond | 560 | 16,600 | 29.64 wood, single screw |
Lancaster | 721 | 20,700 | 28.71 wood, single screw |
Hartford | 641 | 17,877 | 27.90 wood, single screw |
Chicago | 790.24 | 14,880 | 18.83 steel, twin screws |
Petrel | 289.5 | 4,850 | 16.78 steel, single screw |
Boston and Atlanta | 675 | 10,400 | 15.40 steel, twin screws |
Newark | 807.23 | 11,932 | 14.78 steel, twin screws |
Yorktown | 435.3 | 6,352 | 14.58 steel, twin screws |
Baltimore and Charleston |
| 0.000 | 0 military masts |
From this table it appears that had the Chicago been sparred in accordance with the recommendations of the first Advisory Board, she would have had a spread of canvas equal to that which she now carries plus the amount carried by the Yorktown. Even then she would have been under-sparred.
The lessons furnished by the recent experiences of the Brooklyn, the Iroquois, and the Inman steamer City of Paris, should not be thrown away upon us. Let us take a glance at the performance of the former, premising that it was an exceptional year for trade winds, which were “conspicuous by their absence” both in the Pacific and the Atlantic. Where the maximum strength of the trade winds should have been found, only light airs and calms prevailed. Furthermore, she fell in with bad weather immediately after starting on her homeward passage, and for eight days after sailing still had the coast of Japan in sight.
The Brooklyn, Captain Byron Wilson, having broken her shaft, left Nagasaki, Japan, on the 5th of September, 1888, under sail, reaching Honolulu, Sandwich Islands, distant 5000, in 40 days; from Honolulu to St. Thomas, W. I., distant 16,000, she made the run in 141 days; from St. Thomas to New York, distant 1700, in 17 days; arriving in New York April 25th, having spent 198 days at sea in traversing 22,700 miles. She passed 33 days in port, viz. 26 days in Honolulu and 7 days at St. Thomas. While rounding the Horn, under whole topsails and topgallant-sails, there was a period of two weeks during which she averaged 200 miles a day. It is proper to state here that her propeller had been hoisted in on deck, and the aperture between the stern-posts planked up, giving her a run as clean as that of a sailing ship. This was an altogether exceptional advantage.
The steel cruisers have twin screws, which reduces the chances of similar accidents; for with one screw disabled they can steam very well with the other. Their use obviates, moreover (at least so it is claimed), the necessity of sails.
Let us now place the Baltimore at Nagasaki with one screw disabled and no sails, and ask to which ship one would confide his fortunes in a passage to Honolulu of 5000 miles: the Brooklyn or the Baltimore? The old or the new? The former, though dull, can sail, and could manage to fetch some place, let the winds be never so adverse. The Baltimore also may manage to get in somewhere. But if her one screw, doing double duty, should break down in mid-ocean, the ship would be rendered absolutely helpless. She could do nothing. Speaking for ourselves alone, we would prefer to take our chances in the old Brooklyn.
To provide for such a contingency as the disabling of the motive power, though one of the conditions of the problem we are called upon to solve, is not the most important one. The main question is one of logistics, and as such is to be dealt with by the naval strategist and tactician. In the case under consideration the great desideratum is the coal supply, or, what amounts to the same thing, the husbanding of that already on hand for the hour of need. The steel cruiser, with fine lines, twin screws, triple expansion engines in separate water-tight compartments, and great coal capacity, renders possible long passages at sea under steam. For, with increased speed, we now have comparatively less expenditure of coal. This leaves little to be desired if eternal peace could be assured. But the naval tactician demands that there shall be a still greater saving of coal, a still greater economy of the vital principle to which he owes his very existence on the field of active operations in war.
The transatlantic steamer, with a fixed route and short stoppages, may make the round trip without coaling away from a home port; and the English ship-of-war is pretty sure to find an English coal depot in almost any part of the world. With the United States the case is different. Having no coal depots beyond our own ports, we must calculate upon a cruiser carrying fuel enough during peace for long passages, with a liberal margin for such contingencies as are likely to arise at sea—bad weather, delays, casualties, etc. During a maritime war, when coal may be reasonably refused by neutrals, the difficulty of obtaining supplies abroad would be greatly aggravated, hence the necessity of greatly increased coal endurance, beyond that already given.
As a "commerce destroyer," the steel cruiser would have to remain out for long periods, watching for her prey and chasing suspicious craft. Stationed on one of the great highways of ocean commerce, she would lie in wait for traders, who would be warned of her presence and give her a wide berth. She would have to seek them. Under similar conditions, a cruiser with full sail-power could reach her destination with her bunkers full of coal, and in many cases could do a great deal of cruising under sail, thereby holding on to her coal for battle or for chase. The underlying principle is that logistics should conform to strategy, not strategy to logistics.
The Newark carries 850 tons of coal. Should disturbances in Rio place in jeopardy the interests of American citizens engaged in business in Brazil, it might be desirable to send her there. She could steam the entire distance, 4733 miles, in twenty days at her most economical rate, 10 knots per hour, with an expenditure of 500 tons of coal, or say 25 tons per day.
The Brooklyn, with her propeller in place, could make the passage under sail. It would take her three times as long, perhaps, but she would arrive at her destination with a comparatively small expenditure of coal.
After being in Rio for some time, the coal question forces itself, let us suppose, upon the attention of the captain of the Newark. Distilling and cooking and running the dynamo must go on, and the coal supply gradually but surely melts away. Strained relations with the authorities on shore render it impossible to get coal there; and as the Riachuelo is close at hand, the American admiral is loath to let the Newark go. But go she must, there is no help for it, however urgent the necessity for her presence, for she must have coal at any cost. So with due regard to the margin of safety, there comes a day when she must steam down to Montevideo, 1200 miles further south, to fill up her bunkers.
The Newark is no sooner at sea than it is discovered that her speed has been diminished fully 25 per cent, owing to a foul bottom. Under such conditions the Riachuelo, with her clean copper-sheathed bottom, could easily overhaul her in the event of actual hostilities. Knowing this fatal weakness of our cruisers, it would be strange indeed if the authorities on shore did not resort to those dilatory tactics by which negotiations would be prolonged and a rupture forced only after coal and patience had been exhausted.
Let us suppose a similar case in the Pacific, where the necessity might arise for sending the Charleston, with her two military masts, to Valparaiso, a distance of about 5000 miles. The Charleston's coal capacity is 800 tons, giving her a steaming radius of 6450 miles at 10 knots an hour. The passage at the most economical rate of speed would require 650 tons of coal, leaving but 150 tons for "coal protection" in the event of a battle. The Hartford could have made the passage under sail.
Or, let us place the Charleston at Honolulu, and require her to go thence to Valparaiso. The distance is say 5900 miles, approaching the limit of her steaming radius. On reaching Valparaiso, coal becomes an absolute necessity. There is plenty of it on shore, but, unfortunately, the Blanco Encalada, an armor-clad, copper-sheathed vessel of war, lies between the Charleston and the coal-pile, and the gravity of the questions at issue between Chili and the United States forbids the former giving supplies to a possible enemy. The Hartford could have made the run under canvas, and reached her destination with enough coal for emergencies.
Let it not be supposed that we advocate a return to the Brooklyn class. That class is cited merely to show that we have, in times past, built steam cruisers that would do well under canvas, and thereby enabled to husband their coal supply for emergencies. Our contention is that the steel cruiser should be able to do the same. And it certainly seems only reasonable to ask that the cruiser of our future navy should be furnished with the means of reaching a distant point where belligerent operations may ensue, with her bunkers practically full, for two reasons: first, that she may be prepared for battle, chase, or a protracted blockade; and, secondly, that her full bunkers may afford the coal protection they were designed for. Full sail-power would furnish the means. We are not wholly ignorant of the objections urged against putting masts and yards on modern cruisers. But if the naval tactician declares that the cruiser must have full sail-power, we venture to assert that the naval architect will be able to overcome the objections and solve the problem.
If the naval architect declares that the combining of all the essential features of a fast steam cruiser with efficiency under sail is not an insoluble problem, then the naval tactician would be enabled to avail himself of one of nature's most potent forces, the ceaseless winds, while he held his principal motive power in reserve for the day of battle. His position might then be likened to that of the general of an army who should hoard his own supplies while living on the enemy. The architect having so decided and furnished a sail plan, the seaman then steps in to arrange the details, so that a large spread of canvas may be rapidly reduced, and sails and spars so disposed of as to present the minimum of resistance when steaming head to wind.
So far, our highest authorities (those already quoted) have declared for full sail-power, and such we believe will be the final verdict for war-ships designed for service in distant seas. As a corollary to the proposition of full sail-power comes the demand for copper-sheathing on the bottom of our cruisers. As those already built have neither, it is very evident they are not intended for foreign service during war.
The question of copper-sheathing has been so thoroughly discussed by Mr. Philip Hichborn, U. S. Navy, in his exhaustive article on "Sheathed or Unsheathed Ships," and by Lieut. S. Schroeder, U.S.N., in "The Preservation of Iron Ships' Bottoms,"! that there is little if anything left to be said on the subject. It is only referred to here as belonging to the "tactics of the ship," which has to do with the question of the training of the personnel of the ship.
The history of the Civil War furnishes a practical illustration of the soundness of our views on the question of sails. Captain Raphael Semmes, of the Alabama, writes "I was much gratified to find that my new ship (the Alabama) proved to be a good sailor under canvas. This quality was of inestimable advantage to me, as it enabled me to do most of my work under sail. She carried but an eighteen days' supply of fuel; and if I had been obliged, because of her dull sailing qualities, to chase everything under steam, the reader can see how I should have been hampered in my movements. I should have been half my time running into port for fuel. This would have disclosed my whereabouts so frequently to the enemy that I should have been constantly in danger of capture; whereas I could now stretch into the most distant seas and chase, capture, and destroy, perfectly independent of steam. I adopted the plan, therefore, of working under sail, in the very beginning of my cruise, and practiced it unto the end. With the exception of half a dozen prizes, all my captures were made with my screw hoisted and my ship under sail; and, with but one exception, ... I never had occasion to use steam to escape from an enemy."
In another place he says: "She (the Alabama) was a perfect steamer and a perfect sailing ship at the same time." Her propeller was constructed to hoist clear of the water. The reverse of this picture is also shown: "The reader has seen that the Sumter, when her fuel was exhausted, was little better than a log on the water, because of her inability to hoist her propeller." Will the steel cruiser do any better at sea "when her fuel is exhausted"? The Sumter had a good supply of sail and one screw to drag; the steel cruiser has no sail and two screws to drag.
THE TRAINING SQUADRON.
Assuming that the naval strategist will decide that, whatever practice may obtain abroad, the naval policy of the United States requires a full-rigged, copper-sheathed steam cruiser of high speed, then the demand for sailors will continue. It was to supply that demand that the Training Squadron was put in operation in 1881 (see General Order No. 271 of 1881).
The first essential in organizing a system of training is to know exactly what is to be produced. "Going into training" means the preparing of the brain, the nerves, and the muscles for the accomplishment of a certain specified end, whether it be for championship in the ring, success in the boat-race, or generally for success in any undertaking requiring strength and skill. Mental stimulus is necessary to complete muscular development. It matters not what may be the exciting cause—whether ambition, the pursuit of pleasure, or the necessity of providing one's daily bread—the result is much the same. A boy gladly expends in a game of baseball as much heat and energy as would be required to saw a cord of wood; the latter would disgust him. Men whose sole object is the increase of muscle tissue soon turn with loathing from the tread-mill system of the gymnasium; adequate mental stimulus is wanting.
The object of naval training such as we are now to consider is to produce a man who, to the fine qualities of the sailor as we have endeavored to portray them, adds skill in the use of the high-power guns of the present day. That is the object of our naval training system as we understand it. It is to produce men like those who handled the lock-strings of our 9 and 11 -inch guns and Parrott rifles during the late Civil War—prime seamen, cool in the face of danger, courageous, and, withal, capital shots—men like the one who fired the Cumberland's last gun.
It is important that we should have armorers in the navy, and gunsmiths, and bookbinders and typesetters and the rest. But, before all else, we must have seamen and good gun-captains, with an abundant surplus of those who are to fill their places when they fall in battle. In other words, our guns' crews are to be made up of trained men. The highest expression of the trained man is to be found in the able seaman and expert gunner combined. It was for him that the rating of seaman-gunner was established. It was expected that seaman-gunners would be assigned as gun-captains of the guns of our primary batteries, and that in time every gun afloat would have a seaman-gunner for its captain. It was with that view that a school of practical gunnery was established on board the Minnesota in 1881 and General Order No. 272 of that year issued. The plan failed then through causes not necessary to specify, only to be renewed now under conditions likely to ensure its permanency. We may therefore safely assume that a gunnery-ship will hereafter form part of our naval training system, and that the seaman-gunner will no longer be degraded by assigning him to such duties as ship's lamplighter, typesetter and the like.
One of the most important truths to be understood by those having to do with naval training is, that unless pupils under training are early habituated to life on the water, much of the time, labor, and expense devoted to the work will be thrown away. Why train the naval apprentice for civil life?
It should be made an offense for any officer to moor a school-ship, or a training ship, or any vessel used for the education of young seamen, to a wharf or dock unless actually necessary when the vessel is under repairs. Under the specious plea of convenience of landing for infantry drill, the pernicious system of tying up the school-ship to a dock has wrought its full measure of evil upon the service. It is to be hoped, in the interests of the profession, that the practice is now at an end forever. Let the young sailor understand from the beginning that his only way of getting from his ship to the shore is by means of a boat, and let the boat and its management become thoroughly familiar to him, from the very outset of his career.
Infantry drill necessarily forms a part of the program of exercises of the stationary school-ship; but it is just as necessary that the apprentice should learn how to get into a boat with his arms and accoutrements on, as it is that he should learn to march with them on. The few months spent on board the stationary school ship are devoted to the "breaking in" process, to prepare the apprentice for the next stage of development, the sea-going training ship. With that view he is taught to take care of himself and his belongings, taught to keep his person and his clothes and bedding clean and in good order, to conform his words and deeds to the rules of the ship. In short, he is given his first lessons in naval discipline, which, if looked into, will be found to mean a great deal of self-discipline. We cannot begin too early with that.
English grammar, and arithmetic, and geography, and infantry drill are excellent subjects for the occupation of the mind of the young seaman; but there is an occult process of absorption going on without cessation, by which the mind of the naval apprentice becomes imbued with a taste for the service which ends only with life itself. That part of the education is worth all the rest put together; it cannot be imparted, it comes of itself to the boy who is endowed by nature with an aptitude for the sea. He soon finds himself in perfect correspondence with his environment; the ship itself and all it contains; the sailors and their peculiarities; the guns and arms, suggestive of battle; the system by which the crowded decks seem never in confusion; nay even the very smell peculiar to ships. All at first have a fascination for him, and then become a part of his life. Thus he acquires from the very beginning something of the ways of sailors, their modes of expression, habits of thought, manners, customs—the first insight into the technique of his calling. He also learns their stories, their songs, and their traditions. The attraction of his surroundings draws out his powers. The inward being is in sympathy with the external life. He is in correspondence with his environment. This is education; it comes not of books. Educare means to "draw out," not to "put in" or cram.
There are, it is true, boys who, having no aptitude for sea life, find all this positively distasteful. When this is due to racial characteristics, or, what amounts to the same thing, the law of heredity, it is difficult to overcome. But as it is very common to find among boys cases of retarded development, both mental and physical, we should not, in the earlier stages of training, be hasty in determining a boy's fitness for the service.
The routine of drills and exercises on board the stationary school ship prepares the boys for the next step in the process—the cruising ship. The readiness with which the boy falls into place on board the latter is the measure of the success of the former.
It must be confessed that officers are sometimes unreasonable in asking too much of the boy who has been but six months on board the school-ship. They expect him to take the wheel, or heave the lead, or run up aloft like an able seaman. But the school-ship does its part if it gives the apprentice a good grounding in the merest rudiments of his calling.
It is to the cruising ship, however, that we must look for the most important results, for it is here that the apprentice is expected to discover if he is made of the right sort of stuff. The cruises of the training ships should always be to foreign ports. We want blue-water sailors, and they can be made on blue water only. Hanging around the coasts and inland waters and anchoring every evening or two, so that all hands may enjoy a night in, is very pleasant but it is not business. The argument in favor of home waters is that by being frequently at anchor the boys may be taught more. If that means that they can be taught more out of books, it is probably true. But we have started out with the distinct understanding that the object of the training ship is to produce sailors—deep-water sailors; and the only way to do that is to make deep-water cruises. The young sailor may then gain that experience at sea which goes so far toward forming his character. No artificial method can take the place of actual experience at sea. The West Indies furnishes an admirable cruising ground for training ships, particularly during the winter months.
By letting the ships cruise singly, with a view to their meeting at a certain time, under squadron organization, for competitive exercises, preceding the annual examination and dispersion of the advanced classes, the very best results follow. The spirit of rivalry stimulates each one to do his best.
Each ship's company of boys should be divided into two classes. At the end of the winter's cruise the advanced class only should be transferred to the general service, leaving the remainder to take another cruise, the complement being filled up from the stationary school ship. This ensures having always a fair proportion of the boys who are familiar with the ship. The second class of one cruise becomes the first class of the cruise following.
The permanent crew of the practice ship (the petty officers and seamen) should be carefully selected from general service men. It is from them that the boys get their earliest and most lasting impressions. The longer the boy can be kept on board the sailing practice ship, provided she be kept cruising, the better.
The fact must not be lost sight of that the practice ships, though intended primarily for the training of the naval apprentice, are at the same time an admirable school of practical seamanship for the young officers who go out in them.
It has been objected that service on board an obsolete sailing ship is no preparation for duty on board a modern steam cruiser. This is a great mistake. The handling of a sailing ship at sea, under all the varying conditions of wind and weather, stimulates the faculties as no other experience can.
The broadsword and the rapier (or foil), as weapons, are obsolete, and yet constant and intelligent practice with them, and with the "gloves," trains one into better command of the temper and of the limbs. Such exercise, properly conducted, gives a quick eye, a good wind, and an active liver, and enables one to keep cool and self-possessed in the presence of a certain class of dangers. The weapons themselves are not subsequently brought into requisition, they are simply used as a means to an ulterior end. It is the same with the sailing ship. Service in one teaches an officer what he cannot so readily learn on board a steamer. Among other things it teaches him to control men.
Of two officers, in other respects equal, that one will make the best steamer officer who has had the most experience in sailing ships.
From the training squadron the apprentice is transferred to the general service, where he remains till he comes of age.
It is much to be regretted that a more uniform system of treatment could not be accorded the apprentice in the service at large. Perhaps such a thing is too much to ask of human nature.
During one period it was the practice, when a ship was paid off, after a cruise, to give the apprentices a leave of a month or so, with orders to report on the termination of their leaves on board the Minnesota, where they were to serve out their unexpired terms. This gave a good opportunity to judge how the boys had been cared for by the officers during the cruise. The greatest difference was observable in the apprentices from different ships. One set of young men (for such was the rapidity of physical development that the majority presented anything but a boyish appearance) would have plenty of money due them, each a complete outfit of clothing, clean and in good order; be manly in bearing, respectful in demeanor, and thoroughly well up in the details of their duties, whether aloft or at the guns. Of such a set, nearly all would be as far advanced in rating as the regulations would permit. Another draft of apprentices, who had returned in another ship, would be the reverse of all this. It is scarcely necessary to add that the former set would, as a rule, express a partiality for the service, while the latter would not. The differences were so marked, it was suggested that on a ship being inspected at the expiration of her commission, a special report should be made of the apprentices and the progress they had made during the cruise.
This is a very important phase of the subject, and has a direct bearing on the question, Will the apprentice, after attaining his majority, re-enlist for the general service?
It is for the apprentice who, on his discharge, re-enlists within a stated interval that the gunnery-ship is intended. Here he goes through a course in practical gunnery and cognate branches, is instructed in practical electrical work and torpedo service, and qualifies for the rating of seaman-gunner. The course on board the gunnery ship will probably include instruction with the diving apparatus. This completes the system of special training.
WAR PROBLEMS.
We have spoken of a Training Squadron: there are two of them; one for boys, the other for officers, seamen and marines. The latter is composed of the ships of the North Atlantic Station. That is the high school, so to speak, of our naval training. Assembled annually for exercises on an extended scale, it becomes the best school of application we could have. Acting in conjunction with the War College, the operations of the squadron occupy at once the highest plane attainable during a time of peace. The following plan of operations has been attended with success:
Two or three representative officers of the squadron meet a like number of officers of the college, the whole occupying the position of a general staff to the commander-in-chief The latter indicates the broad lines of operations to be undertaken, the staff arranging the details. If the commander-in-chief decides, for example, to attempt to force an entrance into Narragansett Bay, the attack and defense will be arranged with that view. If it be to attack New York by entering Long Island Sound at its eastern end, then the defense may be designed to prevent his passing the Race or getting by Plum Island; or the problem may be to effect a landing on Long Island, and to oppose such landing.
Whatever the military and naval problem may be, it is carefully worked out in detail by the staff, and maps and written instructions prepared for the information and guidance of the principal officers in the same manner as if it were an operation in war. When this has been done, the officers are assembled and the entire plan is explained by one of the staff. The object is generally to illustrate some military principle or to execute some strategic movement, or perhaps to show the practical working of some tactical maneuver.
At this meeting it is expected that every officer, particularly such as are entrusted with important commands, will interrogate the lecturer until the part each one has to perform is thoroughly understood. Umpires are appointed who are to take notes as to the carrying out of the plan in practice. At the appointed time the projected movements are carried out as nearly according to the program as possible. In due season, after the conclusion of the operations, the officers are again assembled and the criticisms of the umpires read. A general discussion then takes place. By this intelligent method of conducting exercises, officers and men are brought to a realizing sense of what hostile operations might lead to, and, next to war itself, learn from them more of their business than they possibly can by any other method. Not only are such exercises highly instructive, but they lend a pleasing variety to the monotony of a cruise, and interest, in an unusual degree, all who take part in them. They are to be commended, if only on hygienic principles.
In addition to the war problems, there may be projected a number of exercises in which all the ships of the squadron take part; such as distant expeditions in boats necessitating an absence of four or five days, encampments on shore of a week's duration, night attacks by the boats or the ships, etc., etc.
RESERVES.
If a settled policy calls for a small navy, it should also call for a large reserve of force, wherewith to expand that navy in time of need. The fisheries and the mercantile marine generally supply the reserve. As early as 1778, it was declared in Congress that "the fisheries of Newfoundland were justly considered the basis of a good marine.'' The great benefit of having such a class of hardy seamen to draw upon was felt in the war of 1812; and in 1813 Congress passed the act granting a bounty to fishermen engaged in the bank (Newfoundland) and other cod fisheries, with a view to encouraging that industry and nursery of seamen. The act of July 28, 1866, however, abolished the granting of bounties. The greatest number of seamen in former years were produced in the sailing ships engaged in foreign trade. That source has almost ceased to exist—almost, but not entirely. In some lines of trade, sailing ships are still profitable. As long as they exist, Congress should oblige or induce the masters or owners, by bounty or otherwise, to take boys out in numbers proportioned to the ship's tonnage. By this means our merchant vessels will be training up seamen that would be a very material aid in manning our ships in time of war. Fifty years ago it was estimated that about ninety thousand seamen were engaged in our foreign and coasting trades and fisheries. It was further estimated that of that number, owing to the interruptions of trade by a maritime war, about thirty thousand would be available for the navy. How many seamen could we count upon to-day?
THE YACHT SERVICE.
When vessels of war were built of wood, the gun was required to send a projectile through about 30 inches of tough live oak. As a consequence, guns of heavy caliber were in demand. In the war of 1812, much of our success was due to the fact of having guns of larger caliber than our opponents. From that day the caliber of guns increased till it got up to our IX and Xl-inch smooth-bore guns of the Dahlgren pattern. Small vessels, or such as had light scantling, could not carry these guns, and small smooth-bore guns were of little use. But owing to the great changes brought about in late years, a moderate-sized yacht can carry a gun that could place the thin-sided Chicago, of 4000 tons, hors de combat at a distance of a mile and a quarter. The Hotchkiss g-pounder, or the 6 or even the 3-pounder, which could be carried by many of our yachts, will penetrate the side of the new steel cruiser at 2250 yards, and a chance shot might reach her boilers. Some of our steam yachts could do better. The 4-inch breech-loading rifle, weighing 3200 pounds, throwing a 30-pound projectile, will penetrate 6 5 inches of iron at 1000 yards. This gun mounted on a pivot, on board a fast steam yacht, would prove very effective.
It may be seen from these changes in the character of the offensive and defensive powers of war vessels how a flotilla of steam yachts might thus be made a valuable auxiliary to a fleet of battle- ships, assigned to the duty of guarding our coasts in time of war, as ocean scouts, despatch vessels, or for torpedo service.
Statistics show that the majority of the crews of our yachts are of Scandinavian origin; they come of a great race of seamen.
"When the Romans invaded Britain, the Brits had no fleet to oppose them. We do not, until a later period, meet with that love of the sea which is so characteristically English; not before the gradual absorption of the earlier inhabitants by a blue-eyed and yellow-haired seafaring people, who succeeded in planting themselves and their language in the country."
"To the numerous warlike and ocean-loving tribes of the north, the ancestors of the English-speaking people, we must look for the transformation that took place in Britain. In their descendants we recognize to this day many of the very same traits of character which these old Northmen possessed."
"Britain finally became the most powerful colony of the northern tribes. At last the land of the emigrants waxed more powerful than the mother-country, and asserted her independence; and to-day the people of England, as they look over the broad Atlantic, may discern a similar process taking place in the New World."—Du Chaillu, The Viking Age.
If, with due respect to the distinguished author, instead of "emigrants" in the last clause of the above quotation, we should read conquerors, the statement would be nearer to historical truth; and nearer still if it be made to refer to an earlier period of our own history rather than "to-day." The passage is transcribed for the reason that it gives a picturesque view of the influence of race upon the progress and direction of national development. The lesson is full of meaning to us. It is for the naval administrator to trace along the streams of immigration the strain of a race whose "school of war was on the sea"; it is for him to ascertain to what extent it exists in this country now, and how far it may be made available in the event of war.
Boys of a sea-loving race will naturally seek the sea; it is the part of wisdom, therefore, for the Government to make the paths straight which lead to the gratification of those tastes, that the training of young seamen may be carried on unceasingly, and to a far greater extent than will ever be possible, even in a navy many times greater than our own. Indeed, from motives of the highest patriotism, as well as from professional considerations, the naval administrator is directly concerned in what is popularly termed the rehabilitation of our mercantile marine; he is interested in the establishment of an executive department of the Government having for its object the promotion of ocean traffic, and the supervision of all public business relating to the same; in the building of merchant sailing ships and fast steamers; in the registration of merchant seamen, and, in general, in whatever tends to foster and increase foreign commerce under the American flag.
Senate bill 1628, reported January 6, 1890, for the "encouragement of commerce, the protection of navigation, and the improvement of the merchant marine in the foreign trade," proposes a measure of great national importance and of incalculable benefit to the navy.
A broad and comprehensive scheme for giving the utmost freedom of scope to our maritime interests is, indeed, but part of the policy of keeping the navy down to the merest nucleus of a floating force.
DISCUSSION.
NEWPORT BRANCH.
Newport, R.I., June 26, 1890.
The meeting was called to order by Rear-Admiral Luce, President of the Institute, and the members were requested to nominate those they desired to fill the offices of the Branch, which resulted in the election of Commander T. F. Jewell as Vice-President and Professor Charles E. Munroe as Corresponding Secretary.
Commander Jewell was then called to the chair and made the following opening remarks:
Gentlemen:—We have assembled this evening for the purpose of discussing a paper on "Naval Training," a subject of vital importance to the service in these days when new appliances and new methods are replacing the old. We are fortunate in having with us the distinguished author of the paper, an officer whose experience in the service comprises nearly half a century, who has ever been foremost in advancing the interests of the Navy, whether it be ill the training of men, the education of officers, the discussion of the type of vessels-of-war, or the methods of handling them; and who, although he has passed the period of his active service in the Navy, is still as alive to its needs and interests as any of those present. He kindly offers to give us a resume of his paper, and I now have the pleasure of introducing Admiral Luce.
Rear-Admiral Luce, U.S.N.—Mr. President and Gentlemen:—As some of those present may not have seen the paper about to be discussed, or may not have had time to read it, a few explanatory remarks may not be out of place.
I am glad to notice among those present a member of the medical profession, for one of the principal questions under consideration touches upon matters in which they are directly concerned. The first question, briefly stated, is, "How far has the introduction of steam, as a motor power, modified the character of the sailor?"
That is the first question treated of in a general sort of way by the paper. Or, to put it in another form and judging from current events, "How far will the character of the sailor be modified by the exclusive use of steam as a motor power?"
The sailor exists under two characters. First, in the popular estimation, which pictures him as a man given over to drunkenness and debauchery, and addicted to profanity. The second is his real character, given by those who best know him: owning all the weaknesses of humanity, indeed, in common with all men, but possessed, more than is common, of certain qualifications which are the product of his arduous life—such as physical courage, muscular power, self-reliance and endurance—qualifications of the highest value in war, for that is, after all, what everything about us means—war, or the preparation for war. Now, it is owing to the very fact that sailors have such a superabundance of physical force—such an excess of vitality—that, when released from the restraints of discipline, those forces seek a vent; and when the controlling influence of a strong will becomes clouded by drink, riotous conduct is generally the result. But it is a base aspersion on the class to say that sailors, as a rule, are given to intemperance. My own experience goes to show that such is very far from being the case. What are called North country sailors are noted for their sobriety; and there are many like them.
Now, admitting that the exclusive use of steam has a tendency, and a very decided one, to change the physical and moral qualities of the sailor, the next question is, "Is it possible to devise a system of training, by means of which all the good qualities ascribed to the sailor of the past may be preserved and all the objectionable ones eliminated?" For my part, I believe it is not only possible, but I believe we are doing it now. I have great faith in our naval training system. It has its "ups" and its "downs," of course, in common with the rest of the world. With the exception of an occasional set-back, I believe the progress made by our system of naval training has been fair. If there be any fault to find, it is due to our peculiar system of naval administration, and not to a want of personal interest in the apprentice system. To avoid the chance of being considered "personal" in anything I may say, it may be as well to state that no reference is made to the present time or to the present administration, but rather to an indefinite period in the past.
With the idea of beginning a course of training which was, in the end, to produce a man-of-wars-man, an effort was made some time ago to cultivate in the young apprentice a fondness for the water. With that view the New Hampshire's boats were to be seen every afternoon under sail and filled with boys. Boat sailing was a recreation the boys looked forward to on Saturdays with great pleasure. But far better than the boats was the schooner Wave. The best boys were selected for her crew, and, when she went out, one boy was placed at the wheel, and another at the lead, the others alternating with them. In this way, under the guise of recreation, the greenest boys were enabled to pick up something of sailorizing; but the important part of it was that any taste they might have for the water was brought out by this species of amusement. Going out in the Wave and in the cutters, under sail, was held out as a reward to the boys for good behavior. Besides the schooner Wave there was a large working model of a full-rigged brig, built up on the New Hampshire's first launch. By the use of that model the boys were enabled to learn the names and the lead of all the rigging, instead of getting it by heart out of a book. In the little brig they had all the spars and sails and rigging of such a ship as the Boston, so that the boys not only saw the lead of the ropes, but the effect of hauling on them, the manner of making and taking in sail, etc., etc.; in short, it was such a working model as enabled the instructors to take the boys through all that branch of practical seamanship in an intelligent manner, by object-lessons. The dismantled hulks of the Wave and the little brig now lie in the cove at the training station in an advanced state of decay, and scarcely ever does one see a boat belonging to the training squadron under sail. Base-ball and field sports generally completely usurped the place of sailing and fishing parties.
Now, it maybe said in answer to all this that boat sailing is out of date; that the steam launch has rendered sails for man-of-war boats unnecessary. But it sometimes occurs that a ship-of-war has but one steam launch, and that it may be necessary to send out several boats at the same time, and not all of them in the same direction. Moreover, it may, and sometimes does, occur that the distances the boats may have to go are great. Let it be supposed that a boat expedition has to be sent out with the prospect of a week's absence from the ship. In that case the boats must be self-reliant. For such contingencies our boats should be constructed and rigged with a special view to carrying capacity and for sailing, and our boats' crews should be good boat sailors. I have seen our training cruisers come in here and their boats constantly go to and from the shore under oars when they had a fair wind and could sail. I may say that such is the rule. I will go further and say such is the rule not only on board our training ships, but on board our ships generally throughout the service. Furthermore, the very reverse of this is the rule on board of foreign ships-of-war.
It will be observed that when foreign ships-of-war arrive here their boats will, as a rule, go to and from the shore under sail whenever the wind permits. It is so all over the world. I have often and often seen foreign ships-of-war, particularly the English and French, send their boats on shore in bad weather, with their sails reefed down, when we did not dare to lower our boats.
It may and probably will be answered that, in this age of progress, with steam, electricity and big guns and torpedoes and the rest, boat sailing is a very insignificant affair, and really beneath the notice of men of science. That may be true. But a taste and an aptitude for boat sailing are indications—simply indications, but altogether wanting with us—of a taste and capacity for sailorizing in general, if the word "sailorizing" may be permitted. Boat sailing is alluded to here, I may say by way of apology, because it belongs to the alphabet—the alpha beta of naval training, which is the subject under discussion.
It is commonly said that our earlier impressions are the more lasting. Now, the first and earliest impressions of the naval apprentice are all connected with fresh milk and green grass, with base-ball and foot-ball. He sees the officers deeply interested in homing-pigeons, and expending their energies on lawn tennis, while their principal instructors—the school-masters—as soon as the toils of the day are done, seek their homes on bicycles. Now, there is something commendable in training carrier pigeons, especially for war purposes, and bicycles are fast becoming a military necessity; but to familiarize naval apprentices, to whom we are to look as the forming of the very bone and sinew of the Navy, with such matters, can only result in one way, and that is to unfit them for life on board ship. As a question of naval training, then, we may reduce the proposition to its simplest terms, and ask the direct question. Which is better as a recreation for the naval apprentice, base-ball or boat sailing? One cultivates muscle, lungs and liver, it is true; but the other cultivates a taste which it is desirable above all things to cultivate—a taste for a life on the water; and the cultivating of the physical powers will come in the natural order of events on board the training cruiser. One encourages a taste for the land, the other for the sea. Now, we have plenty of landsmen in this country, but we have very few sailors; and we need to begin in early youth to cultivate them. Let us remember that it is necessary not only to train young men for the Navy, but to induce them to stay in the service after they are trained.
The subject of recreation has been dwelt upon because I hold it to be a very important factor in education. Boys from agricultural districts who love country life find ship life intolerable. They may be attracted for awhile by the novelty of the change, but as soon as that wears off they become unhappy, and, failing to procure a discharge, they will desert. The same may be predicated of the city boy who loves city life.
On the other hand, there are boys, whether from the rural districts or the city, who have a natural taste for the sea. Between these two lies a third class, who evince no decided partiality for one or the other—for the land or the water—but who very naturally will be attracted by what they find most pleasant.
As many of the boys who enter the service do not know their own minds, do not know what their tastes are, do not suspect what is in them, it is manifestly impossible for the closest reader of character to discover their aptitude for the service. Time alone can unfold their characters, their proclivities and their abilities. Taking the average boy, therefore, with a very dim perception of the possibilities within him, and knowing perfectly well that to fit him for ship life is one of the conditions of the problem of naval training, it seems to be the dictate of reason that the process of weaning the "raw recruit" from the land and fostering a preference for the water cannot begin too soon. Hence "sailorizing" and aquatic sports should have the preference on board the stationary school-ship over soldiering and field sports.
The result of my observation is that the officers of the training station have done the very best possible with the means furnished them. If the proper tools have been withheld, they cannot be justly blamed for indifferent work.
One word as to the New Hampshire. She was brought here in 1881 and moored in the stream with four line-of-battle-ship's anchors and go fathoms on each chain. It was intended that she should remain there permanently, but, owing to a misapprehension on the part of those concerned, she was unmoored and hauled in the mud on the south end of Coasters' Harbor Island. It was a mistake; but the mistake will prove a fortunate one if it has taught us the evil effects of too close a connection between the school-ship and the shore.
Surgeon J.C. Wise, U.S.N.—It has been said that, after all, the greatest wealth of a nation consists in the possession of a vigorous population, and that it cannot be maintained that money is the sinews of war if the sinews of men's arms are failing (Lord Bacon).
Able military critics assert that high courage is the concomitant of bodily soundness, and that the power of armies is dependent upon the capabilities of the individual soldier. Comparative study justifies the statement that the strongest animal is the most enterprising and courageous.
Of all the factors entering into the acquirement and maintenance of manly strength and development, that of occupation is second to no other in importance, carrying with it another equally so—that of nutrition, man's occupation having direct relation to his ability to procure his food supply.
The results of occupation as affecting growth and development have been recently illustrated by Mr. Walter Galtho, in a study of "The Physique of European Armies." It appears from the writer that one of the effects of the operation of the corn laws in England has been to increase the urban population at the expense of the rural districts, which has had a very depreciating influence on the recruiting material of the country by a marked decrease in the vigor of both men and women.
In France this change of the population from country to city life is exciting the serious attention of government, while in our own country the deserted farm land in one State alone is enormous. It cannot be questioned but that in a few years this change will materially involve the physique and character of the people, wherever it operates.
Omitting for the present the consideration of occupation on the moral and psychical characteristics, we will note here its bearing in a physical way.
With the advance of civilization and the increasing divergence of mankind from primitive methods of life, occupations have become specialized, resulting in asymmetrical growth ; that is, the growth of one part in a greater ratio, and often at the expense of another, frequently resulting in a positive deformity. As illustrative of this we will cite the tables of Drs. Chassagne and Daily, entitled "Influence Precise de la Gymnastique," being the result of an examination of the pupils of the military school at Joinville, France. The pupils were divided into five (5) classes: 1. Men who had followed rural occupations; 2. masons, builders, sawyers, wheelwrights; 3. smiths, farriers, mechanics, bakers, carpenters; 4. shoemakers, tailors, watchmakers; 5. students, clerks, architects. The growth and development of the first class was found superior in almost every particular; the upper extremities of the smith and baker were found unduly developed, while the lower were lacking in normal growth. The class leading a sedentary life was found deficient in muscle and overburdened with fat, while the fourth class, using a stooping posture, showed the evils of contracted chest and stunted growth. Other evidence is equally strong. Dr. Beddoes found the citizen of Glasgow and Edinburgh, on an average, from one to two inches shorter and from 15 to 20 pounds lighter than his country neighbor, and so it was with Sheffield, Exeter, and other cities in England.
It might seem that to state these facts was but to establish a truism; unfortunately, the truth is the phase of a question which we most reluctantly concede. Reflection on what has been said will, in most respects, answer the question suggested by Admiral Luce's paper, "What will be the effect, physically considered, on the sailor, by the substitution of steam for sail power?" The change will be for the worse; it will be closely akin to that following the surrender of country life for town life; it will be the result which will follow sending most of the crew below decks, in place of life on the upper decks. And what of those who remain? We might cite as the finest specimen of manhood, in all the attributes of courage and conscious power, the Norsemen and Vikings, exulting in muscles of iron, and as fearless as the very seas which they conquered—indeed, it is difficult to conceive of any avocation in life which more fully calls for the putting forth and exercise of all the powers of the body, and many of the finest qualities of the mind, than that of a seaman; the multifarious duties of ship's life diversify and equalize the efforts of the system, occupy and recreate the mental faculties as do no other. As to the amount of labor of which the seaman is capable and accomplishes, let us reflect that in going aloft he raises the weight of his body to a corresponding height, and that this is done often under the greatest difficulties, incident to wind and sea. If it be true, as good authority states, that a day's work for a strong, healthy adult is equal to 300 tons lifted one foot high, then we can easily understand how much in excess of these figures must be the work of a man who labors night and day, for the sailor off watch is actually at rest but a small part of the time. Then as to the character of the work, how wide is its range! Take, for example, an able seaman, whose muscles stand out in such relief as to be easily traced from origin to insertion, trained in many a contest, bending over the yards and snatching the sails from the very teeth of the storm. Contrast the man in this duty with him who works his watch-mark or embroiders his cap with a skill the daintiest fingers might envy. As a matter of fact, he has educated the "fidicinales"; a series of delicate muscles known only, as a rule, to fiddlers in the manipulation of the bow. The entire muscular system is complete in growth, and normal in development—using these terms in their scientific sense—the first being a mere increase in anatomical elements, the latter expressing capability to assume higher duties and functions—the man has had, in plain words, a muscular education in all that relates to variety and association of complex and simple movement. Consider the picture which Admiral Luce draws of the topman aloft. His intelligence keenly alive, his special senses equally on the alert, his wiry and elastic muscles acting in exact co-ordination, so as to bring the various forces in the line of the desired resultant. And what can we say of this splendid animal in other respects? Is he really the "bete noir" that we do not wish to occupy the sidewalk with? We all know his vices. Do we remember his virtues? England owes a lasting debt to an old surgeon of the fleet, Dr. Thomas Potter, who in those days, when scurvy claimed more victims than the sea and the enemy combined, evinced an intelligence a hundred years ahead of his time, and a philanthropy unsurpassed, kept the scourge of ships in abeyance and the fleets well manned. He has left us this picture of a blue-jacket: "In the hour of battle he has never left his officer to fight alone, and it remains a solitary fact in the history of war. If in his amours he is fickle, it is because he has no settled home to fix domestic attachments; in his friendship he is warm, sincere, and untinctured with selfish love. The heaviest of metals, as Sterne calls it, becomes light as a feather in his hands, when he meets an acquaintance or old shipmate in distress. His charity makes no preliminary condition to its object, but yields to the faithful impulses of an- honest heart. His bounty is not prefaced by a common though affected harangue, of assuring his friend that he will divide his last guinea: he gives the whole, requires no security, and cheerfully returns to a laborious and hazardous employment for his own support. Was I ever to be reduced to the utmost poverty, I would shun the cold thresholds of fashionable charity to beg among seamen, where my afflictions would never be insulted by being asked through what follies or misfortunes I was reduced to penury."
It is well said that the whole life of a sailor is one of confronting danger, and it is this which has indelibly impressed his character; it is the constant association with danger which gives the sailor less dread of it, and makes him in this respect, as in most others, "sui generis."
Such is the man as evolved under the old conditions: what will he be in the new?
Let us state the proposition as Admiral Luce puts it: "The complement of the Chicago is, let us say, three hundred and eighty-odd men. Of these there will be about one hundred belonging to the engineer's force. Throwing out the latter and the special class of petty officers, messmen, band, etc., there will be left about two hundred and ten or fifteen petty officers, seamen, landsmen and boys. Of these two hundred and ten or fifteen, it requires just two to take the ship to sea—one at the steam steering wheel, the other at the lead. We are not considering the engineer's force. That force does all the work in getting up steam, firing, running the engines, etc. Our present inquiry leads us to the deck. There we find in round numbers some two hundred seamen of the various classes. What part do they take in getting the ship to sea or in entering port? No part whatever."
"On going to sea, the anchor once catted and fished, which maybe done chiefly by means of a steam winch, the man at the wheel and the man at the lead are the only ones who are called upon to take an active part in the operation." "So far from being of any use, the question is what to do with the crowd of men who are lounging about the deck." That the new life is in sharp contrast with the old we will all admit.
The Chicago has masts and sails, but we will leave them out of the count, as it seems the time must come when they will be as difficult to trace as the lost link in the process of evolution.
Let us not lose sight of the fact that while the sailor has been losing the characteristics of the old regime, he has been steadily acquiring those of his land congener—the soldier. What then of the change? Can great-gun drill, small arms, broadswords and similar exercises take the places of those which have become obsolete? It is impossible: the sailor, as we understand him, will go with the sails, and we shall see his like no more.
The difference in the two conditions is immense and various in its operation; it is not unlike that existing between a heavy Percheron and a Kentucky thoroughbred—it is the difference between a sham and a reality. The one condition brings into action the ambition, the courage, all the power, the very soul of the man; the other is one of a purely mechanical character, a perfunctory performance, an automatic process, and to many a drudgery. In the one the end is the safety of the ship, the life of the crew and the applause of heroic action; in the other it is a question of the liberty-list, a step to a higher rating, a bronze medal perhaps. The process will not be unlike that of the Scotch Highlander who gives up his life as crofter, a life where he has been face to face with Nature, and enters the factory at Glasgow or Edinburgh. One state imbued him with power and independence, the other makes of him a spiritless creature, who is conscious that a horse might do most of his task as well. In no way can the change be for the physical welfare of the man; in most relations there will be agencies for positive deterioration. It may be pertinent at this time to allude to the means by which we may in a measure counteract this result and preserve for our seamen at least a fair amount of health and something of the old spirit which animated them.
Primarily, we need a higher standard of recruiting both for the general service and apprentice system, and far more care in the selection of cadets at the Naval Academy. Let those who are to deal with this problem in future beware how they accept the too common statement that gunpowder has made any two given men equal. The time will never come when individual prowess will be below par in great physical contests: science is mighty, but science and human power are mightier. Dr. Parkes says on this point: "After the invention of gunpowder the qualities of strength and agility became of less importance, and athletic training was discontinued everywhere. But within the last few years the changing conditions of modern warfare have again demanded from the soldier a degree of endurance and a rapidity of movement which the wars of the eighteenth century did not require." We are told that in the athletic games of the Romans, officers and men exercised alike. Marius, it is said, never missed a day at the Campus Martius, and Pompey was able at 83 years of age to run and jump with any soldier in the army. The sum of a man's ignorance was expressed by saying "he knew neither how to read nor swim," In feudal times, as we well know, skill in arms and strength of body decided the contest. At this time all European nations teach gymnastics systematically in their armies.
Our late war is replete with incidents where but for the individual strength of the promoter, many important enterprises must have been defeated. The courage, tenacity and endurance of Gushing and his crew are qualities as valuable now as when he destroyed the Albemarle. As before said, the best authority and ablest experience go to prove that physical strength, courage and daring go hand in hand. We must have good physiques to commence with. At the Naval Academy there is undue pressure in the matter of physical examination, brought about by position and influence, resulting in the acceptance of candidates destined to a short career, preparatory to the retired list. This statement is substantiated by the not uncommon retirements in the lowest grades of the Navy. A standard of physical strength for recruits is a purely arbitrary one, fixed by the State and based essentially on the demand for material, the scale varying with the necessities. Napoleon, in revoking his orders to enlist the youth of France, added that they but "strewed the wayside and filled the hospitals." For general service the best material of our Navy is from the merchant marine, and the worst the landsman. In the training service too great dependence is put on a lad's filling certain requirements in mensuration, and too little attention to heredity, temperament and general adaptability. He should be not only organically sound, but, to meet the life and hardships of a sailor, he should be robust. At one time the proportion of apprentices found physically disqualified was appalling. With a vigorous constitution to commence the race, the physical necessities for a good "man-of-wars-man" is more than half met. The introduction of seamen into the service through the training system is all-important: here the habits so necessary in after-life are engendered and fostered, especially a growing love for gymnastics and athletics generally. Let them continue to learn their seamanship as now, in cruising sailing ships. It would seem an imperative necessity to increase this arm of the service and offer greater inducement to make it a life-occupation, as it is estimated that now not over ten per cent continue in the Navy.
Other most important adjuncts toward securing the end in view will be gained in close attention to discipline which permits no idleness, but, as Admiral Luce suggests, it is difficult to know what to do with the crowd of loungers on deck. Great-gun drill, small arms, broadswords at sea; battalion drill and field sports in port. Let the liberty, as a rule, be in the daylight, and all hands on board to supper. (And it surely behooves officers to heed this injunction also.) A due regard to those most important functions of sleeping and eating must be had, and all provisions for a vessel leaving the country should be inspected by a board of officers who will form part of her complement. Errors in regard to the age and other qualities of provisions are generally detected when it is too late to find any remedy, and as a rule the alternatives are that the man shall sacrifice his stomach or the government sacrifice the provision—the former too often prevails.
In the economic processes of nutrition there is a condition known to physiologists as metabolism, the normal requirements of which are the supply of foods qualitatively and quantitatively of the proper kind, the laying up of this food in the body, a regular chemical transformation of the tissues, the formation of excretory products, and their timely and complete elimination from the system. The maintenance of this condition in proper adjustment means health and strength, depending closely upon a just relation between food, rest, recreation and labor. To preserve this happy state amid the increasing and perplexing problems which now environ us, demands all the care and consideration that we can possibly bestow, and when we have produced a sailor in good physical condition, experience shows that, as a rule, he is among the willing and intelligent members of the ship's company—apathy and inertia being often the result of obscure disease.
A conscientious attention to detail can alone keep our naval force in a state of fair physical efficiency, without which there can be no other.
Surgeon C. A. Siegfried, U.S.N.—Not being a member of the Institute, and taking part in this discussion by invitation, I must apologize for giving you my views on this important matter of the Navy personnel. As Admiral Luce truly says, the object is to obtain discussion, to unify, if possible, our views, seeking only the improvement of the service. To much that is written by Admiral Luce there can be no objection. It is beyond argument, while, besides, I do not pretend to know much of the subject beyond the parts connected with the personnel, the health and strength of the men, their status and general condition for usefulness.
According to my understanding of the present needs and conditions of the service, the papers of Admiral Luce and Surgeon Wise on personnel are not very pertinent to the subject in hand, since we must take things not as we might wish them to be, but as they really are. None of us can deny the changed conditions, the dissatisfactions of men, the coming into use of inventions and practical use of forces in our Navy unthought-of in the good old days of sailing ships and long cruises, I need not describe the ships in use by great naval powers and those we are putting in commission, and the prevalent idea that "cruising" will be given up. There are no governments extant building sail-power ships. Hence we must train our men to use these new tools. If men universally are being taught more, paid more for their labor, their social and ambitious cravings stimulated and fostered by our modern American life, we cannot do otherwise in the Navy. Why do men flock to cities, leaving the finer, more healthful country life for the slums and crowded tenements? It is because more mind satisfaction comes from it, they see and hear more; the modern spirit is striving for recognition and to find other things to do in rising to a higher plane. As a rule the American of the present will not easily submit to discipline or regularity of work, nor to force compelling obedience, and all these are essential to efficiency. Hence our material comes from in great part the lower order of society—from the vicious, the unruly, and the foreign-born. Now, to train these for the present naval uses is a complex task, and only done partially and with loss and waste. If we were to go back some years it would be a simple matter to put them in ships, and by the force of association and attrition they would soon learn the simple duties that once pertained to our ships. They would in time be moulded into what is known as the "blue-jacket"—a being unsafe to the last degree in his tastes, habits and practices, but a good sailor and topman, handy with the plain old guns, with their creaking trucks and simple paraphernalia. Now, will this blue-jacket, so well able to pass the weather earing in all weathers, childish in many things, and not given to learning new tricks, once he is formed by the force he only respects while on board ship—will this man do for the machines now building for our Navy? Will he be of much use in the Navy—the mastless hulls, filled with intricate appliances that seem to be formed for purely destructive purposes only? There will be here and there lonely cruisers of course, as exceptions. All these craft need mechanicians, marine artillerymen, electricians, and a few lonely steerers and lookouts. I believe most of you admit that naval force now is only embodied and intrinsically potent in the inventions of recent years; this, in the full sense—ship construction, materials, guns, explosives, torpedoes, and the use of newly discovered forces and motors.
If the previous speakers argue in favor of sailing ship training to make men nervy and courageous in these days, such training is to my mind a great waste of time. Life is short, and familiarity with danger in any shape breeds contempt for it, and courageous nerve born of the trained mind is far more reliable. The statement that the blue-jacket of the good old days was a finely developed man, healthy and capable of any exertion or work, I take exception to. Neither did his mind control his actions. He had well-developed arms and chest muscles, but from the waist down he was weak in proportion; his legs were spindles; he was and is always beaten in tugs-of-war contests with the marines. I need not dwell on the quality of his self-control—his brain and morals. We must train the mind more; and if men in cities set apart time and place for health exercise, so must we do, as is even now done in other navies. The parts of the essays relating to the physiology of exercise, the virtues of the old sailor, and those matters, I do not argue against; they are matters of fact, but don't help us much here practically—they belong to books. It is not in reason to keep apprentices apart from ships; but will many argue successfully that the former or present system is anything but in great part wasteful, and only too well calculated to inculcate immorality and stunted physique? I know of reports of commanding officers who speak to this effect. Low, damp decks, dark corners, crowded living and berthing accommodations, fighting and oaths, no respect but for force—all this only too common. And the returning liberty-men! What a commentary on the system and the material of the bluejacket of the past! Why stick to the past in personnel only? Less men will be needed for these new ships, and they must be better trained and paid; they must be skilled of hand and self-respecting members of society, and willing parts of the force. Why must we accept the vicious and disobedient, in fact the worst boys of families, as a rule? What has brought the seaman's profession so low, into such disrepute? Can it be the well-known life of debauchery, the riot and excess upon all occasions? Or have the unhealthful, unnatural conditions of his life changed his nerve cells, so that his brain craves morbid excitement and excess, his brain becomes not a crown of reason over his actions, but simply guides a cunning animal? The average working life of a sailor in the merchant service is given as below ten years, and somewhat higher in navies! I deny that training of boys in sailing ships can be compared in usefulness with the training that can be given in what is known as the "Barrack System." From six months to a year ashore, and then to our ships as they are. Familiarity with modern appliances and dangerous instruments of warfare, mind and hand training, morals, drills, gymnastics, how to live in health by rule, the management of boats and small vessels by short trips—these all at first will go farther towards producing valuable material for our Navy. But the stock must be improved, the age limit changed to from 16 years to 20. The stunted, the vicious, and the whole idea that the Navy is a reformatory school, must be abandoned. As we gradually grow to this, so will our seamen increase in numbers and improve in quality, and Americans may be attracted. There are no American seamen now, comparatively speaking, and we must form a body to man our national arm afloat.
I take exception to Surgeon Wise's statement regarding the liberties of men and compelling their return to supper. The uneven and varying treatment of men in ships is one of the chief causes of dissatisfaction, as well as the manner of ratings, pay, etc. So long as the work and discipline permit, the return to supper of liberty-men is not in accordance with life and habits ashore, for, as things are, work ceases at sundown and recreation begins. Men must be treated differently, rated by boards of officers, broken only by courts-martial, better paid, and the service of the Government be made an honor for them as well as for the officers. If Admiral Luce means the smell of tar and hemp I quite agree with him, that is agreeable and healthful, but the "smell of a ship" denotes to me only lack of fresh water and honest cleanliness. Shining brass work and bright upper decks have commonly gone with dirty rags and saliva for the former, white cloths covering long lines of ill-smelling clothes-bags and dark corners below, and a bucket of fresh water to wash the bodies of a gun's crew. Good sound brains and bodies, and with good morale, are produced without sending men to sea in sailing ships, and we need such for our new navy. It is more agreeable for us in some ways, and life at sea is romantic and often poetical; and who can deny the charm of sailing in the trades, the swish of the rushing waters as she heels over, the merry sail, oh!
Men are not free agents. We use new inventions because of some saving of time and labor in the attainment of an end, though we know the value of many old methods. If one refused to adopt new methods, or to adapt one's self to the new conditions, so much the worse for the man or the nation. There is nothing gained in pointing out the ugliness of things, the noise, ill-health conditions, and brutal matter of fact short cuts to an end. Do men remain contented in quiet country ways, with their green fields and serene atmosphere, because some of us know it is better and more beautiful? Where is there beauty, peace or health in the modern town with its hideous suburbs, railway tracks, garbage heaps, its tenement districts, its crime and genteel beggary, and its wasteful government? These things are with us face to face, as we have the modern navy problem and the new war conditions; the marine arm of the national force and the personnel are forming under circumstances different from those preceding our time. If a modern ship-of-war can annihilate a whole fleet of old-time frigates, in just so much must the personnel be improved. We must come to this sooner or later. The officers and men must approach nearer each other; the man to know more—a higher type—and the officer to apply his own hand to the plow on occasions, to teach and as an example. There is less room for carelessness and incompetence due to neglect. I take it that we all know the chief characteristics of our pushing, inventive and leading officers, many among the younger men; they do not hesitate to use their hands to set matters going or to show men by example; they are in the work and realize the difficulties of the problem, and are helping on the newer state of things and the organization, finally the effectiveness of the Navy. The whole tendency of modern war forces is to obtain the utmost efficiency by the plain force of hard material agencies. Sentiment or romance doesn’t apply in these times. Nations by diplomacy will avoid war to the utmost, but preponderating force must rule, and we know that they will be consummated by a few swift merciless strokes. Within recent years I have seen the flower of the navies of England, France and Italy, great monsters, mastless, and containing within them the best results of the science and inventive genius of modern times, and I beg to be excused from believing any longer in the training of our seamen in obsolete sailing ships. We now have no colonies, and I may say no merchant marine or sailors, and we must form our personnel from American citizens. The problem is hence more difficult for us, as we do not have the conscription, nor have we a surplus population or a great commercial marine, as is the case of England.
Boatswain H. Sweeney, U.S.N.—Gentlemen:—Having been in the seaman gunner class, I feel that I have been in a position to understand to a considerable degree their grievances. The question has been put, "How are the seaman-gunners to be induced to remain in the service?" This question arises from the fact that the majority of these men, after being trained, find that the Navy does not pay, in the majority of their cases, as much as their services will command elsewhere; therefore it appears to me that the way to retain them is to pay them fully as much as others will. It is, perhaps, true that, having been so well taught, they should feel themselves under some obligation to the Government, and for that reason remain; but even so, they are not violating any obligation by remaining out of the service after serving an enlistment and after being discharged. I have said above that in the majority of their cases they are not well paid, and I will try to show that such is the case. We will say that there are six seaman-gunners sent to a vessel; they are all of the same class, possibly. One of this six will, in all probability, be rated electrical machinist, at $70 per month, one will be armorer, at $45, and the four others may get the rates of oilers or water tenders, at $36 and $38 respectively, and these differences of pay create a feeling of discontent. I think that the pay of this class of men should not be less than $45, even though the established pay of the rating which they hold be less, and if they are competent to till the ratings which command a higher rate of pay they should be given the preference.
Commander C. M. Chester, U.S.N.—In reply to Lieutenant McLean's interrogatory, I may say that the men are kept in the Coast Survey from the fact that they are unhampered and can go or stay when and as they see fit. Apropos, however, of this question of increasing the inducements for seamen to remain in the Navy, I can say that officers are keenly alive to the necessity for doing so and that boards have recommended increased pay and permanent ratings, and that such a scheme is now in the hands of the President. He has the authority to make the necessary changes, but not the means to pay for them, so that it is doubtful when this can be put in operation.
The Chairman.—There are few of us, I imagine, who will not agree with Admiral Luce in insisting upon the great importance of the physical development of the men who are to form the crews of our vessels-of-war, and I for one agree with him in believing that the sailing ship is the best possible school in which a man-of-wars-man can be trained. There is no question, I think, that the "reckless daring so characteristic of the sailor," the quick-wittedness, the ready resource of the man who has spent his earlier years on the "giddy mast," are still the most valuable qualities to be sought for in the modern man-of-wars-man. But are we to go back to the sail period to procure these most desirable characteristics. Granting that spars and sails have seen their day and that the crews of our ships are to be deck hands hereafter, is there no way in which we can secure the results aimed at? Are we to look upon our vessels-of-war as gymnasiums merely? Were the Spartan youth not "trained to courage, and taught acuteness, promptness and discernment" without the assistance of spars and sails? Were the hardy fishermen of the Banks, from whom our Navy was so largely recruited in the earlier history of our country, the products of square rigs and towering masts? Were they not rather men who, from their earliest years, had been accustomed to taking their lives in their hands, who had, by hard experience in the face of danger, become self-reliant and quick-witted, and acquired those very qualities that made them so desirable an addition to the crews of vessels-of-war? It seems to me that it will not be necessary to take a step backward and supply our cruisers with full sail power in order to develop the muscles of our men, or to train them to that alertness which we all admire in the true sailor.
It must be for some years yet a matter of opinion as to whether, in order to get the most efficient service from our cruisers, they should carry any sails at all. It may be hoped that the value of sails for cruising purposes in that type of vessels may be determined within a few years, when we consider that of the five first-rate steel cruisers on our navy list, the Chicago and the Newark are barks, the Philadelphia and San Francisco are three-masted schooners, and the Baltimore has military masts. Who can doubt what the answer will be? How much cruising could the Chicago do under sail? Does it not seem probable that she would be a more valuable vessel if the weight of her masts and yards and sails, and the storeroom full of supplies to keep them in repair, were replaced with coal? You cannot put everything into a ship. Sailing power must be sacrificed if we are to carry heavy guns and ammunition, and coal for long passages. The lack of coaling stations alone, it seems tome, is an argument for doing away with useless sails and increasing coal capacity.
Examples drawn from the Brooklyn, the Hartford and the Alabama prove little. The Baltimore could have made that hypothetical voyage from Honolulu to Valparaiso in twenty days and then had coal enough to steam thirty days longer, or perhaps twice as long as the Hartford could steam starting with full bunkers and helped by her sails, and when she had arrived she would at least be able to get away if she found it too hot. The Hartford, even if she had been able to make the passage before the emergency that called her there had passed, would be able neither to fight nor run away.
It seems to me that the Admiral's argument points rather to the great necessity there is that our country should establish coaling stations abroad. Perhaps it may be impossible that this should be done peacefully to any great extent, but it certainly could be done in the Pacific, and not improbably in the West Indies, without resort to force. We are wasting a golden opportunity in the Sandwich Islands at this instant. Wise statesmanship should anticipate the day when our increasing manufactures shall exceed the needs of our own people, and when our commerce shall be reaching out to the markets of the world.
By all means let us have training ships with full sail power in which to create our sailors. But let our cruisers not be hampered with useless material for the sole purpose of keeping the physique of our crews up to a standard which could be otherwise maintained.
Office of the Admiral,
Washington, D. C., June 14, 1890.
Dear Sir:—I have read with much pleasure the article of Rear-Admiral Luce on "Naval Training." It is written with the usual ability that marks everything coming from his pen, and it would be well for the Navy Department if it should take to heart some of the principles laid down by the author.
I think Rear-Admiral Luce handles too tenderly those parties in the Navy, whoever they may be, who instituted the system of reducing sail power on ships-of-war and supplying everything with military masts, without considering whether the ships were intended as cruisers or as vessels for coast defense.
Not one of the new vessels hitherto planned or built is fit for war purposes in times of hostilities. "Cruisers" cannot cruise for want of sail power, and so-called "line-of-battle" ships cannot go into battle for want of proper endurance. In time of war the result will be that the present Navy will be laid up on account of too much military mast and the entire lack of sail power, without which a vessel of the Navy is not a perfect machine. This question of sail power is one on which the efficiency of the service hinges.
It is not to be supposed that the series of able articles now appearing in the Proceedings of the U.S. Naval Institute will be without effect upon their readers, the young officers of the Navy, who are coming forward and expect to manage the affairs of the service. Every officer should bring to bear what influence he possesses to cause all cruisers and line-of-battle ships to be fitted with sufficient sail power to enable them to cruise for long periods at sea, if necessary, without entering port except for provisions, so that they may save their coal, as did the rebel steamer Alabama, for an occasion when they may be called into action or to chase an enemy too fast to be overtaken under sail.
This is the battle confronting the young officers of the Navy, and it must be fought now. We demand for our sea-going vessels thirty-five feet of canvas for each square foot of midship section. As to the coast defense vessels, they may be fitted with as many military masts as the constructors choose to supply. I think the article under consideration will have the effect of drawing more strongly the attention of the service to this vital question, and the fight should commence at once to ascertain whether the ships of the future are to be fitted out under the same regime of mistakes that has characterized the Navy for the past ten years, which has given us a "squadron of evolution" that cannot evolute, and, after training officers and men at the training-school under spars and sails until they become good sailors, has relegated them to ships where the military mast is the order of the day and where hoisting ashes is the nearest approach to seamanship an apprentice boy can learn.
I would encourage the discussion of this subject, and only regret that Rear-Admiral Luce did not say more about the matter, as no one knows better than he the necessity for keeping up that great element of power, the seamanship of the Navy, which has made our naval service particularly distinguished in the several encounters in which it has met foreign foes.
Very respectfully yours,
David D. Porter, Admiral U.S. Navy.
To the Secretary U.S. Naval Institute, Washington.
Lieutenant E.B. Barry, U.S.N.—Admiral Luce has given us an admirable essay on matter not, I fear, sufficiently often before the minds of naval officers of to-day.
The main idea of the essay is training for war. I venture to ask, however, if it be true the only preparation for war is to be found in knowing how to "hand, reef and steer," with some infantry drill thrown in? Is the soldier any less a soldier because he carries a magazine rifle and does not fight "shoulder to shoulder," as in days gone by? If the sailor of to-day differs from the sailor of Nelson's time, I take it the reason is because he is a better man—not inferior physically, certainly superior mentally—and in his fighting capacity measured to-day.
The decay (?) of the seaman has been going on for more than a hundred years, but to-day he is as active, as vigorous, and a thousand times better educated than was his great-grandfather. That the school of the topman used to prepare the seaman for his duties at the gun physically, no one can deny, but with change of battery and change in the method of working it, his old duties have disappeared. No longer does the handspike man "heave" while the tackle men "haul" until the gun points at the huge hull a few hundred feet distant and the gun-captain pulled the lock-string "when she was on." In those days it did not matter about fine shooting, and the vicious custom of making gun-captains survives to-day in our watch, quarter and station bills. Number 301 or Number 702 becomes captain of a gun, not because he can shoot, but because his rate as petty officer puts him there as a captain of top or something else, but not as a gun-captain: we have no such rate.
No wonder the "sailor" petty officers made the best records in the earlier attempts at systematic target practice. They were the only men aboard the ships that had fired great guns.
We are beginning to recognize that a man-of-war is intended to shoot her guns and to shoot them straight, and we are gradually putting gun-captains aboard ship who are meant to be captains of her guns. Let us have the rate next and get rid of top-captains in mastless vessels. The trained seaman gunner is so vastly superior as a gun-captain to the old top-captain that comparison is useless.
Sails in a war-ship already have sunk to a subordinate position. If it be found the cruiser cannot be made effective in war-time with masts, yards and sails, she will be accompanied, of necessity, by a collier and coaled on her station. I think we all will agree with the Admiral that sails will be used in peace, especially on ships making long passages, but it seems a very doubtful question if a cruiser will not be "cleared for action" when war is imminent, rather than run the risk of being caught on her cruising grounds by a mastless vessel, able, owing to absence of spars, to steam much faster than she can.
The "base of supplies" of a battle-ship is almost anything selected for that base. It seems certain that fleets of modern battle-ships will not cruise in war-time without taking their base of supplies with them. A fleet as now organized contains supply-ships for coal and for ammunition. With their small steaming radius, modern battle-ships could not carry on an aggressive campaign without a movable base. What applies to them will apply to the cruisers.
Twin screws and the hull as built for them have overcome violent opposition, so it is but natural to suppose, were it acting to-day, the Naval Advisory Board of 1881 would favor twin screws for cruisers, whatever might be its opinion of sail power. I think the Admiral's remarks about the Brooklyn and the Baltimore rather favor twin screws.
In case of "strained relations" with Brazil I think the solution of the coal question for vessels like the Newark would be comparatively simple. Far different, however, would be the solution of the questions of fouling and copper sheathing. "As the cruisers already built have neither full sail power nor copper sheathing, it is very evident," says the Admiral, "they are not intended for foreign service during war," and with this he dismisses them. This is not the place to discuss the merits or demerits of copper sheathing, but an adequate coal supply taken to the station will keep one of these cruisers going as long as the state of her bottom will permit, not to mention the strange anomaly called "coal protection," which vanishes through use just when it is wanted the most.
The Admiral says "the highest expression of the trained man is to be found in the able seaman and expert gunner combined." Now, what is to be the able seaman? Is he to be a man trained in the "school of the topman," when topmen, so called, are not wanted; or is he to be a physically well-developed, healthy man, with a gunnery training added? All things being equal, the trained shot can beat the seaman shooting; the eye is not made quicker nor the brain more active by "laying out and passing the weather earing." If this were true the best target practice would be sail and spar drill. No seaman is a good shot because he is a seaman, but because he individually has the aptitude for shooting, and with equal practice he would shoot just as well if he never went above the rail.
I venture also to differ with the Admiral about the typical apprentices returning from two kinds of ships. "It is scarcely necessary to add," he says, "that the former set (the better set) would, as a rule, express a partiality for the service, while the latter would not." When the better boys seem desirous to return to the service the cause is to be sought, not in seamanship, but in crew. Put a lot of apprentices aboard an American ship with an American crew and they usually will be content. But our Navy is not the place for Americans; our officers say openly they prefer Scandinavians, as the Admiral himself hints, and the American boys soon see their country's service is no place for them. As a consequence, few of the best boys re-enlist, except for the benefits of the gunnery class, and many desert disgusted before their term of service has expired. If we want these young men to come back, let us convince them they will serve on American ships. I believe an honest effort to man our ships with our own people, aided by the co-operation of commanding and executive officers, once the ships are in commission, will soon bear fruit; then the Olsens and Nielsons that refuse to become United States citizens, but who are so eagerly sought after by officers, will give place to Americans, who, even if not "so easily governed" as the mass of foreigners forming our ship's companies, will be ready to serve their own country and, if necessary, to die for their own flag.
Washington.
Ensign A.A. Ackerman, U.S.N.—While agreeing in many details with the distinguished essayist, some slight differences at the start lead to widely differing conclusions. It can hardly be otherwise. Youth looks with hope to the future. Age and experience recalls the circumstances which have developed their own powers and would have their successors fare as well. The certain advance of any art or profession arises from the change and readjustment of petty details, these later cause modifications on a higher plane. In this way only can we explain why the views of the Advisory Board of 1881 would hardly be adopted in every respect by a similar board to-day.
The people want an efficient navy, and they will obtain it in time with no great haggling over the price. The prevailing sentiment will declare itself in favor of such types of ships as will best accomplish the most urgent duties of a navy, and the training of the crews will be best accomplished by perfecting them in the performance of their duties on those ships. One of the conclusions derived from the British naval maneuvers of last year shows it to be impossible to work a modern war-ship with a crew which has had only a general training on some totally dissimilar and possibly obsolete vessel. The multitude of changes in appliances since 1864 and lack of the correcting adjustments of war, places the problem on a platform of rational investigation. It should not be solved arbitrarily, and it cannot be entirely covered by experience. Let us consider a few of the changes since the time of the Alabama.
There are at present in existence 2,000,000 miles of land telegraph lines; 120,178 miles of cables, of which 13,178 miles belong to different governments. The whole of this has been built within the last fifty years, and most of the cable within the last twenty-five years. It takes twenty minutes to send a message to Egypt from London; less than an hour to Bombay; to China two hours; and less than three hours to Australia. This means of communication is rapidly extending. By the cable, commerce can now be warned when to sail and when to avoid danger; it can also be transferred to a neutral flag in a few hours after the declaration of war, even though it be in a far distant corner of the earth. As for the cruiser, once located, she can be pursued and captured or crippled even though victorious, unless she is able to stand punishment.
From Mulhall's Dictionary of Statistics we find that in 1864 the total registered steam tonnage of the world was 1,843,479; in 1881 it was 4,751,988; in 1888 it had grown, according to Lloyd's Register, to 7,021,000. Mulhall's Dictionary gives the ratio of steam to sailing tonnage in 1860 as 1 to 12. [This in itself is a commentary on Admiral Semmes' boast that, with half a dozen exceptions, all his prizes were taken while under sail and with his screw hoisted.]
In 1888, according to Lloyd's Register, the ratio of steam to sailing tonnage was 1 to 1.4. This is not a fair comparison of their respective values as carriers. The steamers of 1888 were much faster than those of 1864, they get over half as much more work out of their coal, make quick trips, and probably carry from five to ten times as much freight as an equal tonnage of sailing vessels.
This remarkable change makes even more probable the immediate observation and location of a cruiser, and consequent warning of commerce. Even though the cruiser's depredations were confined to the slow sailing vessels liable to run over time, she would probably be spoken every day by a neutral steamer unless operating in out-of-the-way districts. Even supposing the means of communication to be what they were twenty-five years ago, would the ravages of a dozen Alabamas be as great a national calamity to any European power as it would have been at that time? Certainly not if they took their prizes under sail. A considerable proportion of the commerce of the world passes through our own or contiguous ports. We cannot consider much of this commerce liable to capture by cruisers, unless we declare war with a haste improbable under a government so efficiently checked and counterchecked. Commerce may perhaps be obstructed in the West Indies or with the British Provinces, but this commerce might with but little permanent loss be transferred to a neutral flag or be placed under convoy. It seems, therefore, that if we are not only to inflict damage on our enemy's commerce, but to exhibit such a power for the continued destruction of his property as will make him wish for a speedy though expensive peace, our most important work will be done in waters far from home.
Consider England's commerce in this connection. Her external trade was over £700,000,000 last year. Of this £144,000,000, over one-fifth, was with the United States, which has sent to England more than 40,000,000 quarters of wheat and flour in a single year. These stupendous figures only partly indicate the sacrifices these countries must make merely by closing their ports to each other.
The conclusion is irresistible that if "commerce destroyers" are to take any part in forcing an advantageous peace with a country that has already made such sacrifices for its principles, they must be able to accomplish an appalling amount of destruction. Not only this, but a large part of the commerce of England lies along the great trade routes from England to Gibraltar, through the Mediterranean to India and China beyond— routes lying almost wholly in enclosed seas and guarded by stations and battle-ships. It therefore seems evident that the commonly accepted type of "commerce destroyer" must be satisfied with the occasional capture of a slow steamer on the outside trade routes to the Western Hemisphere, South Africa, and perhaps Australasia. As these slow steamers are warned beforehand, and may be transferred, no damage is likely to be inflicted on England's commerce within sufficient time to influence a peace.
Nor would the total stoppage of this outside commerce work as great injury to English ship-owners as in the time of the Alabama. The rates of carriage to-day are but little more than one-twentieth what they were thirty years ago, and although by means of faster steamers the number of trips is increased, these ships are earning much less money than ever before. As for English manufactures, they may be easily transferred on interior lines and shipped in neutral bottoms over the few routes where the insurance would otherwise eat up the profits. All this, of course, is supposing that we had these trackless wastes efficiently patrolled.
It may now be positively affirmed that the roving cruiser can have little or no effect in bringing about a peace or relieving the pressure on our home ports. It would take a long time to seriously weaken such a colossus as England's commerce unless we attacked its main arteries. But to do that we must be able to fight. The attack must be prompt, determined and sustained; all else is mere bushwhacking of no national importance. We must expect to see some of our coast cities bombarded, some of our ports blockaded. Worse than that, our labor market will be glutted; there will be no occasion for armies to resist invasion or to invade Canada, the border States can take care of that. But our wheat must rot in the granaries, our freight cars must rust on the sidings. There may be something of a grim satisfaction in the thought that those who most strongly oppose an increase of our Navy will be made to suffer first.
It must be admitted that while nearly all the world admired and comforted the Alabama, most European powers to-day would look with satisfaction on such a humiliation of the United States as would compel a modification of our protective tariff. Neutrals would submit to a great deal in order to bring about so desirable a result. Whatever is done, therefore, our coast must be kept clear of the enemy by a powerful off-shore fleet; while touch should never be wholly lost with a single one of the "commerce destroyers" which may form an integral part of the national defense. It is evident that if our cruisers are not to be sent out into trackless wastes of water, there to carry on the Alabama style of warfare, the arguments in favor of full sail power and sheathed bottoms lose all their force.
The difficulties of coal supply and fouling cannot be ignored; they must be met and overcome. To sacrifice the advantages of a modern cruiser in order to evade the accompanying difficulties, is to make our strategy dependent on inferior logistics. The essayist has given a number of possible examples in which modern cruisers may have been embarrassed by want of coal. Just sufficient data is furnished to demonstrate the peculiar weakness of these ships and the corresponding advantages of sails. Such a comparison is incomplete and, it may be said, unfair to our naval administration, as a notable lack of foresight or strategy is indicated in each example. Our Government sent coal to Samoa in a sailing ship: had the need of it been considered sufficiently urgent, it could have reached there much earlier in a steamer. The fastest steamer on the Greely Relief Expedition was the collier Loch Garry. The difficulties of coaling at sea have never been fairly met; when they are, they will be overcome. It will not be difficult for an eighteen-knot collier to keep in touch with two twenty-knot armored cruisers. She can run away from the battle-ships, and her consorts can take care of all else.
If all our ships were provided with long-armed swinging life-boat derricks, upon which an endless chain could be run, and self-bailing, unsinkable launches, coal could be easily transferred in a seaway from prize or collier to the launch and thence to the ship. After watching the Pacific mail steamers lightering freight in the heavy swell at Champerico and San Jose de Guatemala, it does not seem impossible to select a time when the same could be done farther out at sea, especially if the colliers were provided with efficient lighters. It will be said that this increase of complication may be avoided by the use of full sail-power cruisers; let us consider whether the accompanying disadvantages are not greater than those intended to be avoided.
In order to derive as much benefit from sail power as possible, the essayist has given the "commerce destroyer" but one hoisting screw. She cannot maneuver, therefore, as well as the all-steam cruiser with twin screws, and knows that in close fighting the latter will have the advantage; therefore it is presumed she will fight "not at very short range," though it is evident that the range will not be at her selection. Where the means of offense are so much greater than those of defense, the fight cannot be too fast and furious on the ship that wins the victory. The commander having the most numerous battery must feel that at long range he is simply playing with his good fortune and running up his casualty list. The quicker the enemy is made to feel his superiority, the shorter the battle and the less costly in men and equipage. The weaker vessel is the only one to benefit by prolonging the conflict, as a chance shot may cripple her opponent and at least shorten her cruise.
But suppose a full sail-power cruiser goes into action as valiantly as of old, will the gallant master's division be sent from behind their gun-shields out into a hail of iron and fire from Gatlings and rapid-fire guns to clear away the wreckage of sails and spars? Will not the crew suffer from falling spars and rigging and the langridge of outside boats? Will this not impede the service of the guns? Will not the commander, be he ever so gallant a seaman, find it better to steam ahead blindly in seeming rout and confusion, rather than foul his propeller in trailing wreckage? And will not, therefore, the faster all-steam antagonist select that quarter for attack from which it can deliver the most murderous fire with least damage in return?
Suppose the all-steam cruiser considers herself too weak to fight the sailing cruiser—the latter is shadowed and kept from doing harm. Vessels will be warned off just as the escaping Constitution warned the American merchantmen. The sailing vessel, bigger and stronger, attempts in every way to shake off her companion; she has been observed by neutral steamers, faster steamers of the enemy have run away from her, and soon from every quarter their cruisers will be sweeping down upon her. She might as well be captured as made useless by a crippling engagement, so she seeks to exhaust the steamer's coal. But her own is going fast, she dare not let steam go down, she is hampered by her sails, fearing that if set her antagonist will select that time for an attack. Her time of usefulness is over. Even though she seeks a fight with her nimble antagonist, she cannot force it.
It seems most certain that our possible enemy will be more inclined to peace by what our cruisers may do than by what they have done, and if that impression is not produced in less time than it takes to seriously foul a cruiser's bottom, then the attempt to force an advantageous peace by destroying his commerce is a failure, and we had better put the full strength of our Navy into fighting ships. Privateersmen can look after commerce. The best combination of commerce destroyer and fighting ship capable of running away from battle-ships is the "armored cruiser," or at least a well-protected cruiser. There are many battle-ships such vessels need not fear, especially under certain conditions of weather. Their economical rate of speed should be high, permitting them to throw off clues to their pursuit and to appear unexpectedly in new fields.
They must also have the highest possible speed for the following reasons:
- As the area in which the cruiser is located varies as the square of the product of her highest speed into the number of hours since observation, the inverse ratio of this may indicate the comparative chance of finding her.
- Without a very high speed the most valuable prizes would escape her.
- Prizes would be made only after an alarming expenditure of coal in chasing.
- The shorter the chase the less danger of interruption by darkness, fog or other features of weather, proximity of the enemy or neutral waters. The less danger of observation by neutral and others and consequent location.
- When interrupted or pursued by a stronger but slower vessel, the higher her speed the more certain of escape; the shorter the dangerous period when accident or breakdown would be fatal; the less expenditure of coal. Even if the pursuer is faster, the chase will be longer and the opportunities of escape through accident, change of weather, etc., would be greater.
It is certain that if a naval architect can build an all-steam nineteen-knot cruiser in a certain displacement in order to devote 12 to 15 per cent of that displacement and 3 per cent more to masts, spars and rigging, he must rob her engines, her battery and her coal supply. A day or two less at full speed, a fourth less battery power, a knot or two less in the chase.
Training in some respects is a suppression of individuality, a unification of independent members of a society. No man or officer is disciplined or capable of creating discipline in its highest state who cannot suppress his individual, traits for the time being in the humdrum of routine. A military life is full of petty exactions and observances. These expend much time, and by fatiguing otherwise vigorous energies, incentive to competition or progress is often wholly lost. After considering the changes in commerce and material since the time of the Alabama, it would be well to consider the changes in the people from whom our future man-of-wars-man must be drawn, now that aliens are no longer permitted to enlist.
Our people are better educated, better clothed and better fed than they were twenty-five years ago. [There are undoubtedly numerous cases of destitution in the land, but in almost every particular the individuals will be found to be the lowest type of foreign emigrant, and utterly unskilled. If they are skilled workmen they are certain, with the aid of public sentiment, to obtain satisfactory pay.] American workmen work neither as long nor as hard as they did in 1864, but they use their brains as well as their hands. In some respects old trades, through subdivision, have been swept away. Others may by contrast appear more gloomy than ever, but the elements of improvement are at work among them all. Hardly a day passes but what we hear of some great strike—not for bread, but for a principle—not for more money, but for less work and the same money. The spirit of progress is abroad in the land; the educated workman respects the law, for he has learned that it protects him as well as his employer. He is independent, as quick to discover and repudiate cajolery as to take a stand against arbitrary misgovernment. Times have changed; a strike is no longer made by a deluded mob of fanatics beating itself to pieces against the bayonets of soldiers, but a disciplined army, provisioned, paid and led as such. As Such the nation approves of them and values them, the sentiment of the public is with them as long as their actions are lawful. But a single overt act, and their cause is lost—they are scattered and swept away by a righteous public indignation.
Such are our people. This is a very different picture from that only twenty years ago. The American man or boy who ships to-day wants, should get, and the people will see that he gets, more consideration than would have been shown him then. The prospective reward must be greater also in order to retain valuable men. There is something terribly repugnant in the thought that we can only retain men in the service through their ignorance and helplessness on the beach. The remedy is plain; it will no longer be a harbor for aliens; it should not be for the weak and criminal, for stepsons and incorrigibles. The Navy should offer nearly the same advantages of education, social equality and home comfort that any plain trade does. Patriotism, a love of travel and adventure, should not be expected to do too much.
The contrast is not a pleasant one to the man who smarts under restraint aboard ship and is an uncouth "common sailor" on shore, and his brother who, with not a particle more of self-denial or self-restraint, reaps all the benefits that this free land bestows upon an honest workman.
Ordinarily the men supposed to be eligible for naval service in time of war are engaged in fishing and river work. The fact is, however, a more independent, yet helpless and useless, lot of men than these can hardly be imagined. Every State in the Union should send its quota to our training school, but these boys should be guaranteed something in return: 1st, a good common school education by regular certificated school-teachers holding naval warrants, drawing a pay and occupying the social position to which they would be entitled in private life. A rigid curriculum should be established and a military government free from any tinge of paternalism. It is hard to make a rollicking school-boy take much thought of the future unless the advantages of position can be brought home to him, so after spending one year at school they should be distributed among the various ships of the fleet. On these ships they should be carefully guarded and instructed, an officer being detailed to the ship for that special purpose. They should form a separate division of inspection and muster, but at quarters should be distributed as they could be used to best advantage. On no account should they be advanced, petted, or granted liberties not allowed the humblest landsman aboard ship. They should be compelled to obey their petty officers. One year of hard work in such a position should decide the boy whether the reward is worth the effort. If he elects to remain in the service he is returned to the training school barracks, given one year's additional schooling with practical exercises, and drafted to a ship for a three years' cruise. If at the expiration of that time his conduct has been good and he be able to pass such examinations as may be prescribed for him, he shall be admitted to special training courses in electricity, gunnery, torpedo practice, the construction of ships, guns, mounts, etc., etc. Not too much should be attempted in the one year or eighteen months' shore duty thus allowed. Whatever is done should be as thorough and practical as possible. According to his merits, as determined by competitive examination, the seaman apprentice may now be assigned aboard ship to one of the inferior rates pertaining to his specialty, but if not so assigned he should be given a slightly increased pay on account of his examination certificate. Opportunity should be given him of studying both theory and practice of his specialty. On the completion of this cruise he may, on passing a proper examination, receive, with the approval of his late commander, a rate of petty officer of the Navy. As a large increase in number of warrant officers is needed to properly carry on the details of the work of construction of the new Navy, there would quickly be an opportunity of again promoting deserving petty officers. Warrant officers of a certain age and experience who shall have attained practical excellence in any branch may be given a commission and assigned to special duty. In this way an apprentice boy could be led to feel that with hard work he could keep mounting all his life. He would respect his seniors all the more through feeling how difficult it was to attain their position.
The most important step in the whole advance is the creation of petty officers of the Navy. At present we have no petty officers. Every man aboard ship feels that the petty officers get too little pay and consideration to amount to much. There is a very wide gulf between them and the warrant or commissioned officers and hardly any difference between them and their men. This trouble has been due to the fact that in order to educate young officers they have been required to perform the duties of petty officers; this has been excellent practice for the young officer, but it has made the petty officer a man of no responsibility. On modern ships, however, with their large and complicated batteries, there will be room for all, and every petty officer should be made to feel his responsibility and then treated with the consideration that that responsibility merits. He should be educated to command his men;— anything to break the widening gap between officers and men. To this end it is absolutely necessary that petty officers, until they are furnished by the training school, be taken from the best men in the fleet, be given comfortable quarters, and relieved to a certain extent from the many galling surveillances to which enlisted men are subjected.
With regard to the officers and men generally, it may be said that training is not at all progressive. So long as an officer or man performs his special duty satisfactorily, that is all that is required; there seems to be little or no preparation for higher duties. For the sake of its own interior training a ship must go to sea, frequently, not necessarily continuously. At sea its maneuvering powers should be tested by every officer aboard ship. It is odd that the watch officer is not practiced more in these evolutions. There should be target and torpedo practice, boat expeditions, offensive and defensive fleet tactics off the ports and at sea; then let the ship go into port again, and require every line officer aboard ship to familiarize himself with the harbor plan and sailing directions, so that the entry will be a true lesson in piloting. Let the naval cadets trace the harbor plans and work out with the aid of boats cross bearings of turning points and range lines. Let them study the fortifications, food, water and coal supplies, the language, habits and history of the people. Reduce the volume of their log-book copying and column-ruling, and improve its quality and value by only selecting important days. Let each divisional officer make it possible for his men, through a little judicious information, to spend a profitable and pleasant time ashore; and then to sea again to apply the quickened powers of observation to the ship itself and her functions. Let all drills go on intelligently, progressively; there are some movements of hand in all drills so important that they should be instructive; this faculty can only be obtained by repetition.
In training alternates to the various billets they should not be so hampered and nursed as to fail to form intelligent opinions of their own. This holds even more for the officer than for the seaman. The watch officer is relieved on going into port, and is, perhaps, stationed in the waist, where his duties are purely nominal, and nothing can be learned of the handling of the ship. He may never even learn how to swing his ship around an obstruction, the degree of helm for certain appearances of current, etc. He has his duties to attend to; piloting the ship is the responsibility of some one else. And yet it would be considered a disgrace for any officer to admit that he did not know how to handle his ship, how to compare his chart with the view around, when to start his turns and with what amount of helm. Somehow he is supposed to absorb all this practical information, when every one knows that it can only come with experience and the closest observation of those who are expert, the harbor and the chart, at one and the same time. This is but one phase. Instruct any officer in the duties of the next higher grade and you give him a bird's-eye view of his own. He becomes more competent, more apt to provide for contingencies, and more sympathetic and conscientious in his duty towards his superiors.
Lieutenant A.B. Wyckoff, U.S.N.—The paper on "Naval Training," by Rear-Admiral S.B. Luce, is most admirable. Mental, moral and physical culture are all absolute essentials in naval training. The kind and degree of the latter is likely to prove a most difficult problem on board our mastless vessels. How shall we obtain the same physical development of our seamen and the moral effect upon character which the work aloft gave in the old Navy? There is great danger that physical development will be neglected in the new Navy, with steam capstans, mechanical gun carriages, and no sails or spars. The pulling boat should give some legitimate exercise if not replaced entirely by the steam launch, but this is all that remains.
In my opinion, the essayist's solution of this question is the correct one. Our cruisers should retain their spars and sails and be copper-sheathed. The spars should be as light as possible, so that most of them can be stowed on deck when steaming to windward. The twin screws should uncouple, so that fair passages can be made and the coal saved for emergencies. I know there are serious objections to retaining spars on our cruisers because of the difficulties of finding stowage room for the sails, rigging, blocks, etc., and the dangers incident to battle from falling spars and top-hamper fouling the screws. But if the naval architect can solve the problem of stowage room, let us retain our spars in peace times and dismantle the cruiser, if necessary, upon the declaration of war.
The condition of the Dolphin and Yorktown, at the time of this writing, sufficiently proves the necessity of copper sheathing and the great gain in economy and efficiency thereby.
The naval apprentice should be enlisted for eight years. Six months should be spent at the training station at Newport, sleeping in a hammock and instructed as at present, but with more modern appliances. His education should be continued on the training-ship for one year. These vessels should be fully sparred, and have modern batteries and a complete electrical outfit. The apprentice's first regular cruise should be on the light-sparred cruiser, where the work aloft will do so much to advance his physical and moral development. After three months' leave the apprentice could be sent to complete his enlistment on the battle-ship or coast-defense vessel. During both cruises his professional education should be carefully carried forward. The modern cruiser and battle-ship furnish every facility for completing the education of the apprentice, if regular and progressive instruction is given.
This can be done by the watch and division officers, if a little common sense is infused into the discipline of our men-of-war. The present age of the lieutenant's-watch officers of large vessels is forty years. Five years from now it will be forty-five years. Let them stand their watches at night at sea when another officer is needed as an efficient lookout on the forecastle. But in the daytime and in port let the ensign become the regular officer-of-the-deck, and the old lieutenant be relieved from "treading pitch" night and day, which he is physically incapable of doing and at the same time attend efficiently to the hundred other duties now incumbent upon him. The ensign can perform this deck duty just as well, and the lieutenant is left free to carefully carry forward the instructions of his division, man by man, in every necessary detail. In addition, the lieutenant can perform all the extra duties which now devolve upon the regular watch officer, and thus both will be left with some little time for recreation and the study necessary to keep abreast of the advance in their profession. It is an impersonal matter with me, as I hope my watch-standing days are over.
The petty officer of the service must and will be a more intelligent and important personage, and be fully qualified to always take charge of the boats except when cadets are sent in them for practice and experience. The ensign port-watch officer will thus be relieved of the most disagreeable duty which his rank has heretofore performed.
I feel sure the apprentice can be given all necessary knowledge in gunnery and electricity on board ship, and at the same time not be prepared for a lucrative position with some electric-light company, as our seaman-gunners seem to be at present.
Washington.
Ensign J.B. Bernadou, U.S.N.—I have read this most valuable paper with care and attention. In a section headed "Sails" the Admiral has set aside for a moment the subject under consideration, with the obvious purpose of throwing light upon the general conditions that are associated with naval training, and has taken up the question of our future naval policy.
Two lines of development, specified as being distinct from one another, are briefly discussed; the first assuming the construction of a fleet of vessels of the monitor type—to be left unsheathed, and kept within easy reach of the coal yard and the dry-dock; the second looking to the creation of a fleet of battleships and cruisers, of which the former may be fighting machines with twin screws and military masts, while the latter are to be provided with single screws and possess full sail power.
The national policy entered into at the close of the War of 1812, and the rapid growth at that time of our merchant marine, are dwelt upon as lessons for the future; the naval organization of the period is explained, and it is stated that "a revival of our early naval policy would call for a battle-ship on each foreign station, with a proportionate number of cruisers in addition."
In relation to this portion of the paper, certain questions suggest themselves. Do the conditions that obtained at the close of the War of 1812 bear close relation to those of the present day? Why are the two systems of defense above mentioned to be taken as entirely separate and distinct from one another? Why should coast defense be coupled with disappearance of merchant marine? And why should not naval development, starting from a defense basis, be extended to the limits of aid to the creation and support of a national commerce?
In 1812 the territory of the United States might have been roughly described as a strip of coast land backed by a wilderness; to-day the dimension of our country from east to west is greater than the sea-coast line from north to south; in 1812 we had but one great coast line, now we have two, and two land frontiers extending from ocean to ocean.
Owing to our fortunate natural position, however, and the character of our frontiers, the fear of a land invasion enters only as a minor factor into plans for the national defense. The points at which direct attacks are to be expected are upon our sea coasts, and these we must defend. Our Navy at present, with all vessels building and appropriated for, is but the nucleus of the armed protection that the interests of our country demand. It is necessary, therefore, to continue the development so auspiciously begun, and in doing this we must proceed with prudence and expedition, setting forth our wants in the order of their importance, and in the way best calculated to appeal to Congress and the people. We must excite in our behalf the sympathies and the interests of the capital, labor, production and manufactures of our country.
It is more than probable that so long as we are utterly without a mercantile marine worthy of our name, so long as we are willing to hire foreigners to make money at our expense by carrying our products over the seas, that our Navy will remain of very moderate proportions. The way to obtain a powerful navy is to build up a merchant service. As soon as our flag floats over American merchantmen upon all seas of the world, the great private interests at stake will develop a national character, and the need of adequate protection for investment will be felt— a protection only to be afforded by numerous and powerful squadrons of vessels of war.
Until such a time comes, however, let us develop our Navy with a view to what it would be most needed for in time of trouble in the near future, and let us keep the heavier ships where they would then do the most good. We cannot get large sums of money to protect interests that do not exist and that, as yet, only exhibit a probability of development.
Annapolis, Md.
Lieutenant Wainwright.—In his paper on Naval Training, Admiral Luce brings forward a number of points, all of vital interest to the naval service. To some extent they require separate treatment, and may be discussed more intelligently if placed under their several heads. The first question raised is. What class of cruiser shall we build? This may be considered from its strategic, logistic, and economic side. The second question is, How shall we train our naval seamen? This again may be considered under two heads—one the kind of training necessary to enable them to carry on their duties in a modern vessel of war; and the other, under the supposition that such training is not sufficient to develop a good fighting man. What additional training is necessary, so that the naval seaman shall not be found wanting in time of war?
First as to the class of cruiser. The cruiser has many important duties to fill. First and most important is as an adjunct to, and part of a fleet of battleships. Nothing has been shown more conclusively by modern naval maneuvers than the necessity of a number of cruisers to accompany the battle-ships. Without cruisers to act as scouts, the fleet is shorn of much of its strength and importance either for offensive or defensive warfare. For this service they not only do not need sails, but cannot afford to carry the weight. Speed is of prime importance, and the coal endurance must be greater than that of the armored vessel. The service must be performed under steam, and the cruiser must always be ready to do her uttermost and cannot afford to meet the resistance of the spars in contrary winds, or to carry the extra weight of sails and spars. The next most important service is to go to some foreign port, to protect our interests in case of disturbance. Here again speed is of prime importance. True, if she have full sail power she may arrive at the desired port with full bunkers and prepared to make a long stay without coaling. But frequently, if not usually, disturbances come without warning; and it would be a rash commander who dared to make his passage under sail, leaving our interests and the lives of our citizens unprotected for an indefinite time. Does any one remember the amount of time occupied by some of our old vessels in making the passage, with their screws hoisted, from New York to Rio? Some may argue that sail can be used with favorable winds; but this has always proved of doubtful economy in time and in coal. Take Admiral Luce's example of disturbances at Kio—certainly we must proceed under steam at a fair rate of speed. We must provide coal, not diminish the supply carried, by using a portion of the displacement for weight of spars and sails. We need coaling stations, but without them we certainly can provide for such emergencies as the one above mentioned. Coaling steamers would be sent to meet the cruiser, or to accompany her. There is one thing certain, that if two vessels are built on the same displacement, the one that carries sails and spars must be less efficient than her competitor in some particular. Leaving out the question of stowage room and the possibility of disembarrassing the vessel of these encumbrances in time of actual combat, the weight devoted to sails and spars in the one vessel, can be devoted to armament, protection, machinery or coal in the other; her offensive, defensive or motive power, or endurance must be decreased to enable her to carry top-hamper. This is a law that cannot be overcome by the genius of the Naval Architect. He may be able to build one to carry top-hamper that will be the equal or the superior of his rival's mastless cruiser; but with the same genius he can himself build a mastless cruiser superior to the one he has built to carry sails. The remaining important war functions of the cruiser are as a destroyer or protector of commerce. The importance of the commerce destroyer is greatly exaggerated in the minds of non-professional men; but all naval strategists are agreed that while great damage can be inflicted on an enemy by commerce destroyers, they will have little effect on the ultimate results of the war. Our late war furnishes us with a good example: the Alabama and others destroyed an immense amount of property, almost ruined our ocean carrying trade, and the Alabama's work is frequently cited as an example by the advocates of commerce destroying; but it did not affect the results of the war even in the slightest degree; but few vessels were diverted from their real war duties, and the injury to the pecuniary resources of the country available for waging war was unfelt. And this is true of all like cases. Privateering and commerce destroying are the resort of the weak who desire to inflict some damage on the strong, but they have no lasting effect, and have never been the cause of closing a war—the weakest must go to the wall. Still we must be prepared to do something in the way of commerce destroying. Shall we require special cruisers with good sail power, capable of remaining at sea for a long time? Such vessels would labor under two grave disadvantages; they would be unable to catch merchant vessels of like or greater displacement, and must fall a victim to commerce protectors unhampered with sails. To protect our commerce as it grows and needs protection we must acquire coaling stations, and until we have them, confine our attempts to destroy an enemy's commerce within the limits of the steam cruiser.
The question of economy in time of peace may be raised also. This might be answered by the fact that it would be too expensive to design vessels for peace purposes only; but we can go further and show that even in time of peace sail power is an expensive adjunct to a modern cruiser. Admiral Colomb has calculated the amount of coal saved by the use of sail on a three years' cruise, and compared it with the interest on the cost of sails and spars, together with the expense of repairs, and found it would have been more economical if steam had been the only motive power used. A vessel in time of peace is only of use when in communication with the shore; the time spent going from port to port is wasted except so far as training goes, and for the training of the officer, the vessel should be using the motive power that it would use in time of war.
The question of sheathing is somewhat outside of the subject of naval training; still the paper of Naval Constructor Hitchborn has been mentioned. It is a most able paper, but far from conclusive on the subject. There are many examples that may be quoted against him, and he ignores the fact that even vessels whose bottoms are sheathed with copper will foul in time. It is a question of degree only. All bottoms foul, and many examples of copper sheathed vessels with very foul bottoms can be cited. The real question is. Is there sufficient difference in amount and time of fouling to over-weigh the known disadvantages of copper sheathing? The weight of expert testimony is against sheathing except for special purposes.
The question now comes to naval training. If sails are to be used no longer on men-of-war, we no longer need sailors. Our seamen must steer and heave the lead, they must be good artillerists, and should make fair infantrymen; and they must be able to handle their boats skillfully, both under oars and under sails. Steering is no longer a fine art, and the helmsman can readily be taught to keep his vessel close to the course. It is far more important to have a good marksman at the lockstring than it was of old. To make a direct hit is of more importance, the opening range is greater, more money is thrown away when shots are wasted, and the guns are instruments of precision, admitting of a higher grade of marksmanship. Our great-guns, small arms, torpedoes and electric lights, all require men of a higher grade of intelligence than was the old sailor. It would seem to be unquestionably a fact that the best training for work on a mastless cruiser would be on a similar vessel, unless such work is of a character to prevent the full development of the mind and body of the men. It seems to be almost universally admitted that the class of work required on a modern man-of-war is not of the kind necessary to keep the men in good physical condition; and, as for their minds, it is apt to turn the seaman into a mere mechanic and to destroy his distinguishing characteristic, his adaptability and readiness in emergencies. Gymnastic exercises have been proposed and even adopted, to some extent, for the improvement of the bodily strength of the seaman, and no doubt, if scientifically carried out, finer physical specimens can be produced than even by the old training with sails. Undoubtedly the strongest claim that can be raised for the retention of sails at the present time is that it was an excellent way of training seamen for their war duties, and the arguments on this head are the most difficult to answer. In questions of tactics, logistics and economics, facts may be brought forward to answer the arguments; but in questions of training, the new methods have not been systematized sufficiently, or long enough in operation, to offer any results as evidence. We know that the old sailor was a fine specimen and answered his purposes admirably;—will the new seaman be as good in his place? A great deal of sentiment is mixed up in this question: much romance hangs over the career of the sailor. Many of us have devoted a large portion of our lives to learning how to handle vessels under sail, and no one with more marked success than the writer of the paper under discussion. We know that a man who is a good sailor must have a quick eye and be ready in emergencies, and that he can readily learn to handle a vessel under steam properly. But, as far as the men go, have we not exaggerated their capabilities in our minds? A little while ago, if the question arose of introducing a new weapon, the cry was raised, it is too intricate to put into Jack's hands. A good topman or good boatswain's mate was put at the lockstring; occasionally he was a good marksman, but frequently he was a very poor one. He was courageous, possibly more so than the average soldier, owing to the frequent encounter of dangers during a sea life;—if sails are retained for training solely, will they still have this same effect? I hardly think so; in time of real hazard, rather than incur real danger, the sails will be furled, and the commander, who would not be justified in risking the lives of his crew and the safety of his ship, would place his reliance in his steam power. Certainly, as a mere exercise, the gymnasium might take the place of the sails arid spars. It may be well to retain them on vessels devoted to the training of apprentices; some little knowledge of sailorizing is still of advantage, and they could be utilized for physical culture. But with the sails there must also be modern equipments and modern weapons. The boys should be made familiar with their real surroundings, and not with some ideal condition pertaining to ancient romance.
The question of retaining the apprentices and seamen in the service is one both of economics and of training, but largely the former. Will any amount of training on board ship, living on board ship, teach a boy to love the sea? If he have clean, well-lighted barracks when not cruising, in place of being crowded on an old, decaying vessel; if, when he is at sea, he cruises in a modern ship with modern weapons, is he not more likely to learn to love the service? True, by training men sufficiently long on board ship, they may be unfitted to earn their living on shore and thus forced to re-enter the service; but we do not want this kind of man, for surely, when his term expires, he will spend his time on shore in debauchery, and only re-enlist when forced by his necessities, bringing with him a constitution sapped at its foundations, and a temperament dissatisfied with its surroundings. The wages, comforts and certainty of position of the seaman must be such as to induce him to remain in the service. The apprentice should be required to make one cruise after he has reached the age of 21, then he will be better fitted to make a selection of his future life. If he then finds he has good pay with reasonable opportunities of increase, that he is well treated and his comforts fairly well looked out for, and his position certain, he will choose to remain in the service. One thing will greatly add to continuity of service, and that is the abolition of the receiving ships and adoption of barracks in their places. If the men can live in the barracks, with the ordinary privileges of other men of their class, they will find that they are better lodged, clothed and fed, have more to spend than those of their own class, and they will remain contented with the service, while their training can be conducted under more favorable conditions than on a receiving ship.
We will always need seamen; they need not be sailors and they must be more than mere mechanics. A higher type o£ man is necessary than of old: he must be more highly educated, have better morals, and be more carefully trained. His regular exercises can be supplemented by gymnastics; and, if to encounter danger is necessary, he may confront it in boats under oars and sail, in bad weather and through surf. The ship-of-war must be allowed to follow out its lines of highest development, and the seaman must be trained to suit the development of the machine and to use it to the best advantage in time of war.
San Francisco.
Lieutenant J.C. Wilson, U.S.N.—Having received an advanced copy of a paper on Naval Training, written by Rear-Admiral S. B. Luce, with a request to send opinions, etc., on the same, I feel inclined to comply with the request, not because I believe I can discuss the subject as ably as the writer has done, but because I believe it is desirable to have as many expressions of opinions on this important subject as possible. I regret that absence from the city prevented my receiving the paper in time to study it thoroughly, and that lack of time precludes anything but a brief discussion.
The reasons given by the writer for rigging our cruisers with full sail power are very pertinent, and he presents the subject in a manner not generally considered by the naval expert, viz., the influence of the life of a topman on his character as a man-of-wars-man. There can be no question but that constant necessity for activity of action both of body and mind, exposure to performances of hard and perilous duties, and the sacrifice of all other considerations to those duties, as well as familiarity with danger, cultivates the highest attributes which combine to make the heroic sailor and model man-of-wars-man. This is certainly a point in favor of full sail power on our cruisers worthy of much consideration, but it is after all secondary to the other reason given for advocating sail power, viz., the ability of the cruiser to cruise independently of coaling stations. This in our country becomes a very important consideration, and the writer aptly illustrates how either the Charleston or Newark in time of need might be worse than useless.
It is a question which we must decide for ourselves, as the circumstances governing other nations in their construction of a navy may be entirely different from those which should govern us. We cannot afford to stand by and let the experts of other countries study out questions of construction, equipment, etc., considered best for their naval policy, and then adopt them for ourselves. We must study the conditions under which our ships are to be used, and construct them accordingly.
Practically speaking, we have no coaling stations, and consequently, in time of war, no means of obtaining coal out of our own country. Without coal our cruisers of course would be useless, and they would be under the necessity of always remaining within striking distance of a home port. Under these conditions their sphere of usefulness would be very much reduced, and the boast that we could sweep the high seas of an enemy's commerce could hardly be realized. It is very desirable, if not indispensable, that a cruiser should be able to keep the high seas for months at a time, not only to reduce the probability of capture to a minimum, but to be able to remain out in search of merchant vessels.
The reason assigned for making our cruisers practically mastless is to obtain the maximum of speed and handiness, both very important qualities for a cruiser to possess. She needs speed to be able to choose her distance in case of being brought into action, or to escape from a more powerful foe, if necessary. The experience of the Alabama, as quoted by the writer, illustrates that great speed is not essential to a successful commerce destroyer.
We then have the question before us in the equipment of a cruiser, whether it is better to obtain increased speed and handiness by discarding all sail power, or to sacrifice a moderate percentage of these qualities in order to obtain the advantage of a cruiser's being able to keep the high seas independently of , coaling stations. I do not think there can be any question as to which alternative possesses the greatest merit for our cruisers, which cannot depend on coaling stations. I agree with the writer that they should be rigged with sufficient sail power to enable them to cruise under sail alone, thereby sacrificing, if necessary, a moderate percentage of speed and handiness. Accepting this idea as correct, it becomes necessary, as the writer remarks, to so construct and rig our cruisers that the minimum amount of speed and handiness will be sacrificed, and it would seem not a very difficult problem to find a system of telescoping the masts, and stowing the yards, so that these qualities would be but little interfered with. The screw could be disposed of either by hoisting or uncoupling, as deemed most advantageous. As twin screws seem to give the best results and are desirable for many reasons, they might be fitted to uncouple.
The question of sheathing the bottoms of iron and steel ships seems to me to have been pretty generally decided against the practice. I think it is on record in the English service where sheathing has been removed because it was found to be positively dangerous to the safety of the vessel on account of the galvanic action set up between the two metals. Again, it increases the displacement (and, in consequence, reduces the carrying capacity somewhat), besides changing the lines of the immersed section of the ship, which combine to decrease the speed. The only advantage of sheathing is that it renders the ship independent of docks, and this of course is a very great one, but as a ship can now go from six to eight months out of dock without serious consequences, it would seem that the disadvantages of sheathing more than outweigh the advantages. I should conclude, then, to let the cruisers go unsheathed, but by all means give them sufficient sail power for cruising purposes. Speed under sail is not essential, as with our modern high-power guns of great accuracy merchant ships can be brought to at longer distances than they could during the days of the Rebellion, and, in case of necessity, steam can be used.
The advantage to be gained by sail power in ships in the education of the man-of-wars-men, as so clearly set forth by the writer, applies especially to the apprentice system, and there is even more reason for retaining it on "training ships" than on cruisers. We should have at least one modern-built, armed and equipped small-sized cruiser, with full sail power, for the advanced class of apprentices, suggested by the writer. The younger boys could learn the duties of a man-of-war sailor in any ordinary cruiser, and should be kept at sea (or at least cruising) constantly until promoted into the advanced class on the modern ship, where more time could be spent in port and devoted to gunnery and similar drills. The barrack system, which I think should be adopted in place of the receiving ship for the "general service recruit," would not do for the apprentice system.
In this discussion I have confined my remarks to the points brought out by the writer, but believe that the whole system of recruiting and training of men to meet the requirements of the new Navy should be radically changed.
I think the thanks of the service are due to Rear-Admiral Luce for so ably opening the subject of "Naval Training" for discussion, and so clearly setting forth the necessity of sail power in our new cruisers.