Fisher And The Genesis Of The Dreadnought

It was in the realm of materiel that Fisher’s genius was most at home, and here his proudest day was at Portsmouth Dockyard on February 10, 1906. The crowds were enormous and their enthusiasm knew no bounds, for the occasion appealed to the popular imagination: the launching by King Edward VII, in an impressive and beautiful ceremony, of the largest, fastest, most powerful battleship in the world. For weeks before the launching the event had been eagerly canvassed in the newspapers. Rumor was busy with regard to the new leviathan. Her size, armament, speed, and supposed secrets of construction attracted and held popular interest. Enthusiasts prophesied, and the public dimly felt, that the latest battleship would mark the beginning of a new epoch in naval history. The novel features of the 17,900-ton Dreadnought were:

(1) 21 knots speeds, two knots faster than any battleship building or afloat.

(2) A main battery of ten 12-inch guns. This was a great advance from the four 12- inch and the four 9.2-inch guns which constituted the primary armament of the King Edwards, the last pre-dreadnought battleship class but one, or even the four 12-inch and ten 9.2-inch guns mounted in the Lord Nelsons, Britain’s last pre-dreadnought class. The weight of a broadside from the two calibers of gun: King Edwards, 4,160 lbs.; Lord Nelsons, 5,300 lbs.; the Dreadnought, 6,800 lbs.

(3) The absence of secondary armament except for light quick-firing guns to repel torpedo attack (27 3-inch or 12-pounder guns scattered over the upper decks). The King Edwards carried, besides a secondary armament of ten 6-inch guns, fourteen 12-pounder and fourteen 3-pounder guns; the Lord Nelsons, fifteen 12-pounder and 23 3- pounder guns.

(4) The Dreadnought was the first turbine-engined big ship in any navy. “No greater single step towards efficiency in war was ever made than the introduction of the turbine. Previous to its adoption every day’s steaming at high speed meant several days’ overhaul of machinery in harbour. All this was changed as if by magic . . . ”¹

The keel-plate of HMS Dreadnought had been laid on October 2, 1905, the ship went to sea for trials on October 3, 1906, and was completed in December, 1906. (This remarkable building time was made possible by the diversion in January, 1905, of the 12-inch mountings and guns ordered for the Lord Nelson.) The ship was of illustrious descent. The first of her six predecessors was one of those gallant little vessels which had fought off the Invincible Armada in 1588. No. 5 had fought with Nelson at Trafalgar.

The battle of the pens began on the day of the successful launch of the Dreadnought at Portsmouth. In 1908 Fisher spoke of the “unanimous naval feeling against the Dreadnought when it first appeared.” His critics, who could find nothing good in all his works, derided the dreadnought policy on technical grounds, but chiefly on the ground that it rendered all existing battleships obsolete, so sweeping away Britain’s overwhelming preponderance in battleships (about three to one over Germany) and giving the Germans a level, or nearly level, start in the competition for naval supremacy. Sir Frederick Richards, one of Fisher’s ablest predecessors as First Sea Lord, spoke of “the moral and material scrapping of the Fleet.” The Manchester Guardian, one of Fisher’s supporters, termed the Dreadnought his one great mistake (January 27, 1910): “Its effect had been to eat up the economies of Navy reforms and to bring about a period of greater strain in the rivalry of international arms. It was a departure from our traditional policy in construction, which, as befitted a Power which had acquired so great a lead, was one of conservatism. It destroyed much of the advantage that had been secured by past expenditure, and enabled other nations to get on more even terms.” Much the same criticism was made by other Liberal organs and by Liberal party politicians. The Radical wing of the party deplored the dreadnought type (this “piece of wanton and profligate ostentation,” Lloyd George called it) because, by intensifying the naval competition with Germany, it substantially reduced the sums of money that could be devoted to an expansion of the social services. In 1905, Sir George Clarke, first Secretary to the Committee of Imperial Defence, secretly begged the Prime Minister, Campbell-Bannerman, to appoint a committee to reconsider the Dreadnought. As Clarke and so many others pointed out, “It should be an axiom of our policy never to lead in ship construction, but always to follow with something better,” taking advantage of greater speed in shipbuilding.² As late as 1912 the Morning Post was demanding an inquiry into the soundness of the dreadnought principle.

Fisher never denied that the introduction of the Dreadnought was tantamount to starting de novo, since the vessel, in his opinion, was equal to any two-and-a-half battleships then existing.

. . . the whole Board have discussed and clearly see that whilst in the past, owing to similarity of armaments and speeds, older vessels could be reckoned upon in comparisons of strength, this obtains no longer with an entirely new type of fighting vessel, with which the old vessels can’t fight at all. A cabbage can’t fight with a camel! The camel would eat all the cabbages! So that the time is approaching when the present strength will be wiped out and we must build a new Navy pro rata with those we may have to fight. . .³

But he was certain that the all-big-gun battleship was inevitable, on both technical grounds and on intelligence of what other powers were planning, and this leads us to the heart of our story.

Every indication in 1904-1905 pointed to the dreadnought as the battleship of the immediate future. The Russians, Germans, and Japanese were known to be giving the matter serious attention. The report of Fisher’s Committee on Designs stated on the authority of “secret information in the possession of the Admiralty, that a uniform armament of 12-inch guns for the future Russian and Japanese battleships has been decided upon as the outcome of the experience of these two countries in the war between them.” Also, Fisher felt that it was only a question of time before the Germans took the leap. His instinct was correct. Thus, the Emperor noted on a December 8, 1904, report from the German naval attaché in London that Vickers had plans of a battleship armed with ten or twelve 10-inch guns: “In my opinion this is the armament of the future.”⁴ And Fisher knew, as early as the spring of 1904, that the United States was planning to build dreadnoughts.⁵ He knew this probably through Percy Scott, who was in close touch with Captain Sims, leader of the campaign for the dreadnought design in the United States. This being the general situation, it was, in Fisher’s view, imperative for Britain to get the jump, particularly as the Germans were building warships in about the same time as the English.

But he also knew that the all-big-gun battleship was inevitable on technical grounds, above all owing to the development of long-range firing. Specifically, the dreadnought type had its origin in these ideas:

(1) The menace of the torpedo to the battle fleet, with its increasing range and accuracy, made compulsory longer ranges in action. In 1902 Fisher was lecturing his officers when Commander-in-Chief, Mediterranean: “Don’t get inside 3,000 yards of the enemy . . . because, as sure as you do so, the Torpedo will get in!”

(2) A longer battle range was also desirable because (a) when coupled with speed, it enabled the battle fleet to choose its range. The Navy had to adopt the longest battle range then feasible, otherwise an enemy skilled in long-range shooting could disable the British ships before they were able to inflict much damage, (b) Gunnery skill could be used to best advantage. Close ranges levelled individuality of marksmanship and were therefore to the advantage of the least- trained gun crews.

(3) Long-range hitting had become practicable about 1900, with the introduction of satisfactory range-finding instruments, and had been proven practicable by 1904. (Up to 1900 the effective battle range was considered to be around 2,000 yards, which was little greater than the range in Nelson’s time.)

(4) The only known method of ensuring accuracy in long-range firing was (thanks to Percy Scott’s work as Captain of HMS Excellent, the gunnery school of the Navy) the spotting system of fire control. This meant firing salvos instead of single rounds, a large group of splashes being easy to observe.

(5) With regard to spotting, Admiral Bacon has explained, “at long ranges, the differences in ‘time of flight’ and ‘fall of shot’ of two or more patterns of projectiles led to confusion.” Only by firing salvos with several big guns of the same caliber could there be one kind of splash to show where the shots were falling. This pointed to a uniform armament of eight or more heavy guns.

(6) There would be no closing to a range close enough to allow 6-inch guns (the standard secondary armament) to be used with effect. Therefore, it would be better to use all the available gun weight for the heaviest guns.⁶

(7) The enormous destructive power of one 12-inch gun, as against a quantity of 6-inch shells. That is to say, the heaviest gun gave the greatest blow.

(8) The 12-inch gun was also the most accurate at long ranges: at such ranges the larger the caliber, in guns of an equally advanced pattern, the greater was the probability of hitting, due to the flatter trajectory of the projectile.

(9) Higher speed was a tactical asset in modern warfare. The fast ship could choose the range and bring her full battery to bear on her enemy, whereas her slow enemy could fight only part of her battery. The Dreadnought marked the consummation of a tactical idea which reached maturity when Sir Arthur Wilson, the outstanding tactician of the day, employed it in the 1901 maneuvers, and was proved sound beyond doubt by Togo at Tsushima. It consisted of broadside firing in line-ahead, making use of superior speed and maneuvering capacity to concentrate on a part of the enemy’s line.

The essentials of the design were firmly fixed in Fisher’s mind by October, 1904, when he returned to Whitehall as First Sea Lord, and the final design was drawn up in March, 1905, following the report of an advisory Committee on Designs. That is, the big decision had been reached before all the naval lessons of the war in the Far East were known in Whitehall. But the attaches’ reports were decisive in converting the Board and, afterward, in confirming it in the wisdom of the new design. Practically all the engagements by the rival fleets were at long ranges, at which guns of high caliber had been more effective than medium-sized weapons capable of higher rates of fire. The first important despatch from the British naval attaché in Japan was dated February 28, 1904, and was read by the Board in late May and early June. What stood out clearly in Captain Troubridge’s mind was the immense importance of long-range firing in the actions off Port Arthur and Chemulpo in February. The Admiralty was greatly impressed by the eyewitness report of the new attaché, Captain Pakenham, on the action of August 10, 1904, in the Gulf of Pechili. (It was studied by the Board in mid-October.) It appeared from this report that the fire effect of the Japanese 12-inch guns was so superior to that of their 10-inch guns that shots from the latter passed unnoticed, while 8-inch or 6-inch guns might just as well have been “pea-shooters.” In a despatch of January 1, 1905 (received at the Admiralty, February 28), the attache asserted that the whole conduct and fate of the naval operations in the war had revolved about the 12- inch gun. “Medium artillery has had its day ...” Pakenham’s report on Tsushima further proved the superiority of long-range firing and heavy guns. It arrived just before the Dreadnought was laid down.⁷

There were weighty technical objections to the Dreadnought and her successors. The lead was taken by able officers of large experience like Admirals Sir Cyprian Bridge and Reginald Custance, and Admiral of the Fleet Sir Gerard Noel. They received support from the hard-hitting writings of Captain Mahan and Sir William White, the onetime Director of Naval Construction (1885- 1902).⁸ One criticism was that the fire control position in the Dreadnought was near the funnel, so that you either got roasted, or you could not see anything unless you were chasing.

The principal technical objections were these:

(1) The Dreadnought sacrificed armament to gain speed. The critics held that speed might not always be of strategical value and was an overrated tactical asset. Fisher and those around him saw the matter in a different light. The strategic advantages of superior speed were declared to be obvious. It enabled the fleet possessing it to concentrate at any desired spot as quickly as possible, or to overhaul a fleeing squadron. The tactical advantages of superior speed were equally apparent. “It enables you to force or to decline an action, once in touch with the enemy. It gives you the choice of range at which the action is to be fought, and the power of maintaining that range. With superior speed you can envelop the enemy’s line, and you can keep out of range of his torpedoes.”⁹

(2) Protection was sacrificed in order to increase speed—a criticism heard more often during and after World War I in the light of combat experience. The Admiralty could, in rebuttal, point to the fact that the Dreadnought was as heavily armored as any British pre-dreadnoughts, excepting only the two Lord Nelsons. All her vitals were believed to be amply protected. In addition, there had been provided a system of underwater armor protection against the effects of a mine or torpedo explosion. Indeed, the Dreadnought was the first vessel to be so protected. Still, it is a fact that the dreadnoughts had sacrificed something in the way of protection. But it is only fair to note that in the prewar years critics generally emulated Fisher in underestimating the importance of protection in capital ships. Custance, for instance, suggested that an insane craze for protection had more or less spoiled every battleship design for more than fifty years. In effect, Custance agreed with Farragut, who had said, “The best possible protection is that of the fire of one’s own guns.”

(3) A greater number of smaller battleships was preferable to a fleet of dreadnoughts. It was unwise to put all their eggs into one basket, as the loss of a large battleship through accident or in action might decide the whole fate of a battle. The Admiralty retort was that if the number of battleships was doubled, the chances of accidental loss would also be doubled, and that the more powerful the ship in comparison to her opponents, the less likely was she to be sunk or captured in action.

(4) The weightiest argument of the opposition was that there was no justification for the elimination of secondary armaments. A proportion of 6-inch guns should be retained, since this caliber of gun was more accurate than the 12-inch, even at long ranges, and made a greater percentage of hits to rounds fired. Volume of fire—that is to say, a great number of effective blows from projectiles of less size and power—was, on the whole, more likely to secure victory than the more impressive but less numerous impacts and explosions of projectiles from a few heavy guns. Moreover, the decisive range was likely to be much less than assumed by the advocates of very heavy guns. Thus, if the struggle came in the North Sea, there was little prospect of clear weather or the possibility of making effective hits at extremely long ranges. Also, a certain number of rapid-firing guns of very small caliber would be useful auxiliaries in repelling torpedo attacks. The Royal Navy alone had eliminated this type of armament.

It was, as Admiral Bacon remarked later, a tragic fact about the situation that the country could not be told the whole truth. It was felt inadvisable to publish the most telling arguments in support of the Dreadnought design (and the battle cruiser Invincible), since they were based on the results of the long-range battle practice carried out by the Fleet and on the conclusions drawn from the Japanese fleet actions, which the Admiralty was bound to treat very confidentially. Never made public were the results obtained by the Fleet in 1905. At 6,000 yards (1) two 12-inch guns scored hits with five times the weight of projectiles as two 6-inch guns, 3.3 more than two 9.2-inch guns; (2) the percentage of hits to rounds fired showed the greater accuracy of the heavy gun: 12-inch, 37%, 9.2-inch, 25%, 6-inch, 15%; (3) the comparative effect of shell bursting inside a ship was all in favor of the 12-inch gun: compared to the 9.2-inch gun, 8 to 1, and compared to the 6-inch gun, 70 to 1.¹⁰

The record of the Dreadnought in battle practice confirmed the value of an all-big- gun armament. At a range of 8,000 yards in the 1907 battle practice, her first, the ship scored 25 hits in forty rounds, which placed her as the third ship in the Fleet. But “the real test of fighting capacity is weight of shell thrown in on the enemy,” and here the Dreadnought showed 21,250 pounds of shell thrown in eight minutes, which was 75% more weight of shell thrown onto the target than any other battleship.¹¹

One important concession was made to the critics. So long as a torpedo craft had to come within a range of a few thousand feet of her prey before she could hope to discharge her torpedo with any reasonable prospect of success, it might be safe to rely on 3- pounder guns to stop her in time. But when the range of the torpedo rapidly grew to 7,000 yards, and destroyers became larger, it manifestly became necessary to employ a much heavier armament to stop the torpedo craft in time. Hence all dreadnoughts built subsequently to the original Dreadnought were furnished with an anti-torpedo armament of sixteen or more 4-inch or 25-pounder guns. Finally, after some thirty dreadnoughts had been built, the Admiralty came back to the 6-inch battery (twelve 6-inch or 100- pounder guns) in the Iron Duke class (1912). But this was after Fisher had left Whitehall and was done over his vehement objections.

There are two myths that should be dispelled once and forever before we bring this paper to a close. One is that the Dreadnought was designed to act as a deterrent to Germany’s naval ambitions by forcing Germany to widen and deepen the Kiel Canal before a ship of the displacement of a dreadnought could pass through its locks. This had the double advantage to England of being a great expense to Germany and of ensuring that years would pass before Germany’s dreadnought fleet could be effective. Fisher did see these advantages later; but there is not a scrap of evidence that this was a factor in the actual designing of the Dreadnought. The considerations throughout were purely technical, buttressed by the lessons of the Russo-Japanese War and by the knowledge that other powers were contemplating the introduction of the type.

The other myth is that the Dreadnought was entirely the product of Fisher’s megalomania and that he imposed it on his colleagues on the Board. The fact is that on technical questions, whatever his leanings might be, Fisher kept an open mind and sought assistance. Thus, in working out the fundamental ideas of the Dreadnought at Portsmouth, 1903-1904 (when he was Commander-in-Chief there), he had the assistance of the best technical advice: William H. Gard, the Chief Constructor at Portsmouth Dockyard, Alexander Gracie, Managing Director of the Fairfield Shipbuilding and Engineering Company, and various naval officers. The sketch design was ready when Fisher returned to the Admiralty on October 21, 1904. The only problem seemed to be that of the details of the design. He had the First Lord appoint (December 22) an advisory Committee on Designs, composed of seven civilian experts and seven naval officers, under Fisher’s chairmanship, to assist the Admiralty in drawing up the final design. This procedure had two objects: to cut the ground from under the feet of the anticipated opposition and to get advice on certain questions. The important point is that the Committee was a good deal more than a blind. It was given access to official sources of information and, as was common knowledge, consulted with the two principal commanders afloat, Admirals Sir Arthur Wilson and Lord Charles Beresford, then commanding the Home and Channel Fleets, respectively.

The Committee sat between January 3 and February 22, 1905, and reported to the Admiralty in March. Several alternative designs were placed before the Committee, differing mainly in the distribution of the big guns. In the end it decided on a uniform armament of ten 12-inch guns mounted in pairs, so disposed that six could be fired ahead or astern and eight on either broadside. (Since the pre-Dreadnought battleships could fire but two twelve-inch guns ahead and four on a broadside, the Dreadnought was equal to three battleships in firing ahead and to two in broadside firing. In this fact was contained the most revolutionary aspect of the design.) The point I wish to make is this: The design of the Dreadnought represented in the words of Professor J. H. Biles (The Times, July 23, 1908), who was a member of the committee, “the deliberate judgment of the Board of Admiralty, the technical skill of the Present Director of Naval Construction [Philip Watts], and the unanimous advice of the representative Committee on Designs.”

In deliberately nullifying Britain’s advantage at the height of her battleship predominance by commencing the construction of all-big-gun battleships, Fisher ushered in a new era in naval competition by giving the Germans a chance to start nearly from scratch. Was the Dreadnought policy Fisher’s greatest blunder—or was it a stroke of genius? The writer positively feels that it was the latter: the dreadnought type was on the naval horizon in 1904-5, and therefore it was, as Fisher realized, imperative to gain for England the advantage of leading the way. The strongest justification for his policy is the fact that the dreadnought type was accepted by all the great naval powers; that is, the sincerest flattery was paid to the Admiralty by the imitation of the world.

The Observer aptly remarked (June 21, 1908): “When Sir William White suggests that both the United States and Germany are foolish are deluded powers slavishly copying the errors of a blind Board in Whitehall, he surely takes up the position of the dissenting juryman who had never met eleven such obstinate fellows in his life.”