Chapter LVI Home Waters: The Last Command
Before taking over the command of the Channel Fleet, to which I was appointed on 4th March, 1907, on my return from the Mediterranean, I proceeded on leave, family affairs calling me to Mexico.
My younger brother, Lord Delaval, had been killed in a railway accident in the United States, on 26th December of the preceding year (1906), while I was in the Mediterranean. He left a large property in Mexico, whither I went to settle his affairs as his executor.
Lord Delaval had gone to Mexico as a young man, intending to make his fortune, and so to fulfil the terms imposed by the parents of the lady to whom he was attached, as the condition upon which they would grant their sanction to his marriage with their daughter. At the time of his death, having bought out his partner, he possessed two magnificent ranches in Mexico: Ojitos Ranch, 120,000 acres, and Upper Chug Ranch, 76,000 acres; and a third ranch at Medicine Hat, Alberta, Canada. I stayed for some time at Ojitos Ranch; where I found that my brother was known as a dare-devil rider and an excellent rancher; managing his ranches himself, and taking his part in rounding up his stock and branding his cattle.
Upon Ojitos there were about 6000 head of cattle and 1500 head of horses, donkeys and mules. Ojitos means “little springs”; the house stood beside the springs; and brother, who was something of an engineer, had constructed three large reservoirs and nine miles of irrigation canals, intersecting the whole estate. These little canals, fed by the reservoirs, were two feet broad and three inches deep, so that they could be kept clear with the plough. As the water was perpetually running along them, the stock could drink anywhere, an invaluable advantage in the calving season. Upon some ranches, where the water is scarce, cows and calves often perish for lack of ready access to it. The vast grassy plain is surrounded by mountains, and the estate itself is enclosed in a ring fence of barbed wire, 110 miles in circumference. My brother’s staff consisted of five Mexican cowboys and three negroes. He left the two Mexican ranches to my brother Marcus and myself.
I got rid of all off-colour stock; put on a lot of new Durham bulls; poisoned the prairie dogs which ate the grass, leaving the ground bare as a high road; effected various other improvements, and organised the whole upon a business plan, down to the last detail. The drought of 1909 killed off many of the stock, for although the water supply was maintained, the grass perished. Nevertheless, the Ojitos Ranch paid its way, and in 1912 it was sold for a good price. The other ranch, Upper Chug, is still unsold at the time of writing (1913), owing to the breaking out of the rebellion, the supersession of President Diaz, and the consequent unsettled state of the country.
It was not remarkable for peace during my sojourn at Ojitos. El Paso, the frontier town, was full of what are called “the Bad Men of the United States,” who were wanted by the police; and who, if they were in danger of capture, slipped over the border. The revolver is commonly used in disputes, particularly at Casas Grandes, a Mexican town about 120 miles from El Paso. During my brief visit to that place, three men were shot: one in a gambling hell, one in a Chinese restaurant, and one in a lodging-house; their assailants escaping with impunity.
Riding on the ranch, I saw a man about two miles away galloping for dear life. The cowboy who was with me explained that the rider “had holed a man somewhere and was off up country.” The fugitive headed away from us, and coming to the wire fence, he nipped the wire, and so rode away to the hills.
The retainers of Ojitos Ranch, with whom I sat down to dinner every day, were each armed with a revolver, sometimes two revolvers, and a knife. I was the only unarmed man present.
I had already made the acquaintance of President Diaz some time previously, when I had been tarpon-fishing at Tampico. On that occasion I was accompanied by my friend, Mr. Benjamin Guinness, who had been sub-lieutenant in the Undaunted when I commanded that ship. His brother had been midshipman in the Undaunted at the same time. The two brothers left the Service to engage in business, and both have been highly successful.
Upon my departure from Ojitos, I went to see President Diaz. He was most kind and helpful; both he and other prominent Mexicans informed me that they desired to increase the number of British properties in Mexico; and the President expressed the hope that I would retain possession of the ranches. At the same time, he gave me all the assistance in his power with regard to the settlement of the affairs of the estates; nor could they have been settled satisfactorily without his help.
President Diaz impressed me as a quiet, strong and determined ruler, who knew exactly how to govern Mexico, and did it. Under his rule, revolutions were summarily checked, and Mexico flourished as never before.
Upon my return to England, I took over the command of the Channel Fleet, hoisting my flag in the King Edward VII, at Portland, on 16th April, 1907. The second in command was Vice-Admiral Sir Reginald Custance (now Admiral Sir R. N. Custance, G.C.B., K.C.M.G., C.V.O.), a most distinguished strategist and tactician, one of the most learned officers in his profession. I have never been able to understand why Sir Reginald Custance, instead of being placed upon half-pay until his retirement, was not appointed a Lord Commissioner of the Admiralty.
The members of the Staff were: chief of staff, Captain Frederick C. D. Sturdee, succeeded by Captain Montague E. Browning; flag-commander, Fawcet Wray; intelligence officer at the Admiralty, Commander Godfrey Tuke, succeeded by Captain Arthur R. Hulbert; signal officer, Lieutenant Charles D. Roper; flag-lieutenant, Herbert T. G. Gibbs; engineer-captain, Edwin Little: secretary, Fleet Paymaster John A. Keys; flag-captain, Henry B. Pelly, M.V.O.; commander, G. H. Baird. The navigating officer, Commander E. L. Booty, who had been with me in the Majestic, was the best navigator I have known.
Of the two successive chiefs of staff, Captain (now Vice-Admiral) Sturdee, and Captain (now Rear-Admiral) Browning, to whom I owe so much, I desire to express my appreciation. Their powers of organisation and their knowledge of what is required for organisation for war are of a very high degree. Among other officers, all of whom did service so excellent, I may mention Lieutenant (now Commander) Roper, who was one of the best signal officers in the service; Lieutenant Gibbs, a most charming and loyal companion, who met his death by falling overboard in the Portland race, and the loss of whose affectionate friendship I still mourn; and Fleet-Paymaster Keys, who was with me for more than six years, and to whose brilliant services I owe so much.
The composition of the Channel Fleet, in April, 1907, was 14 battleships (eight King Edward VII, two Swiftsure, two Ocean, two Majestic), four armoured cruisers, two second-class cruisers, and one third-class cruiser attached.
During this period, an extraordinary confusion prevailed at the Admiralty. Its character may be briefly indicated by a summary of the various changes in the organisation and distribution of the Fleet, beginning in the previous year (1906).
In October, the sea-going Fleets were reduced in strength by about one-quarter, and a new Home Fleet was formed of nucleus crew ships. The Channel Fleet was reduced from sixty-two fighting vessels to twenty-one fighting vessels, the balance being transferred to the Home Fleet. An order was issued under which ships taken from the Channel, Atlantic and Mediterranean Fleets for purposes of refitting, were to be replaced during their absence by ships from the Home Fleet.
In December, the Nore Division of the Home Fleet was given full crews instead of nucleus crews.
In April, 1907, an order was issued that no more than two battleships in each Fleet were to be refitted at one time.
In September, the Channel Fleet was increased from twenty-one vessels to sixty vessels.
In August, 1908, the orders substituting Home Fleet ships for ships from sea-going fleets under repair, and ordaining that no more than two battleships should be absent at one time, were cancelled; with the result that the Channel Fleet went to sea in the following December short of eight battleships, two armoured cruisers, one unarmoured cruiser, one scout, and 20 destroyers, 32 vessels in all.
When the Home Fleet was finally constituted, in March, 1907, there were no less than three commanders-in-chief in Home Waters; one commanding the Home Fleet, one the Nore Division, and one (myself) the Channel Fleet. In time of war the supreme command was to be exercised by me, over the whole number of fighting vessels, 244 in all. But in time of peace they could not be trained or exercised together, nor had any one of the commanders-in-chief accurate information at any given moment of the state or disposition of the forces of any other commander-in-chief.
Such, briefly presented, was the situation with which I was confronted in this my last command. It was fraught with difficulties so complex, and potential dangers to the security of the country so palpable, that many of my friends urged me to resign my command in the public interest. I decided, however, that I should best serve His Majesty the King, the Navy and the country by remaining at my post.
In the summer of 1907, the Channel Fleet proceeded upon a United Kingdom cruise, touching at various places round the coasts of these islands. When the Fleet was at sea, individual ships were sent away upon short cruises, in order to give the captains opportunities of exercising independent command. When the Fleet was at anchor, the ships were open to the public from half-past one to half-past six daily, in order to increase their knowledge and encourage their interest in the Royal Navy.
It was during one of these cruises that the Irishmen in the Fleet displayed one of their national characteristics.
The anniversary of Saint Patrick’s Day was drawing near when the Fleet lay in Bantry Bay. On Saint Patrick’s Day itself the Fleet was to proceed to sea. Hitherto, as a rule, if the Irishmen in the Fleet happened to be on leave on Saint Patrick’s Day, many of them broke their leave. When I made a signal, giving the Irishmen four days’ leave, and ordering them to return on board on Saint Patrick’s Day, I added that the commander-in-chief, himself an Irishman, expected every Irishman to be back to his leave. There were 766 Irish liberty-men went on shore for four days; and 766 were on board again ere the Fleet sailed on the night of Saint Patrick’s Day. It might be that the Saint could mention the thing in conversation with Saint Peter at the Gate, for future reference. For there were some 2000 Irishmen in the Fleet, who, when the Fleet lay at Portland, could not, like the Englishmen, visit their homes once a month. And when it is considered how hospitable and convivial they become on the anniversary of their patron Saint, I shall be understood when I say that the behaviour on this occasion of the Irishmen in the Fleet affords a remarkable instance of the Irish sense of honour. There are no other people so easily handled, if the right way be taken with them.
The Fleet assembled at Spithead in November, 1907, to receive his Majesty the Emperor of Germany; and in the following May, the Fleet assembled at Dover to receive President Fallières.
In the summer of 1908, the Fleet proceeded upon a cruise in Norwegian waters. Their Majesties the King and Queen of Norway, with the little Crown Prince Olaf, honoured the flagship with a visit when the Fleet lay at Esbjerg. At Skagen, on the evening of 7th July, when the Fleet was lying at anchor, the Hohenzollern, flying the flag of his Majesty the Emperor of Germany, was suddenly sighted, together with the escorting cruiser Stettin and the destroyer Sleipner. By the time his Imperial Majesty had reached the lines, the ships were manned and dressed over all. A salute of twenty-one guns was fired; and the Hohenzollern was cheered as she steamed down the lines.
During my absence in Norwegian waters, I was the subject of a violent attack in the Press and elsewhere, due to a misapprehension. I recall the circumstance, because I am proud to remember that it was an Irishman, and he a political opponent, who, alone among all the members of the House of Commons, stood up and protested against an attack being made upon a brother Irishman when he was absent and unable to reply.
Their Majesties King Edward and Queen Alexandra visited the Channel Fleet on 7th August, 1908, in the Victoria and Albert, accompanied by the Prince of Wales in the Alexandra. His Majesty honoured the King Edward VII and the Hibernia, second flag, with a visit. The flag-officers of the Fleet had the honour of lunching with their Majesties on board the Victoria and Albert.
Upon one of the Fleet cruises in the north, the flagship was passing under the Forth Bridge, when a spar caught on a girder of the bridge and carried away. Ere it could fall, Flag-Lieutenant Gibbs, with his customary presence of mind and pluck, threw me upon the deck, and himself on the top of me, to save me from the falling spar. Luckily, it touched neither of us.
There being no provision against mines dropped in time of war, it was suggested by me that the North Sea trawlers should be enlisted to sweep for mines; because they were accustomed to the difficult work of towing and handling a trawl. The proposal was afterwards adopted.
In March, 1909, the Admiralty, in addition to other changes, having suddenly reduced the length of ships’ commissions from three years to two years, I was ordered to haul down my flag and come on shore.
Accordingly, my flag was hauled down at Portsmouth on Wednesday, 24th March, 1909, after fifty years’ service.
I cannot close this chronicle without expressing my profound appreciation of the loyalty and affection shown to me by my brother officers and by the men of the Royal Navy. Few events in my life have touched me more deeply than the presence of so many of my old shipmates among the crowds which assembled upon Portsmouth Hard when I came on shore after hauling down my flag, and which filled Waterloo Station and its approaches when I arrived in London. Nor can I omit to record my sense of the kind and generous reception given to me by my brother officers, who attended, in numbers that constituted a record, the dinner, over which I presided, given by the Royal Navy Club of 1765 and 1785, on the anniversary of the battle of Trafalgar next ensuing after my coming on shore.
It was a satisfaction to me when I came on shore, and it is a satisfaction to me now, to think that I pulled my pound in the Navy.
Doubtless, like other men of action, I have made mistakes. But I may justly claim that I have always held one purpose with a single mind: to do my best for the good of the Service and for the welfare of the officers and men of the Royal Navy; and in following that purpose, I have tried to disregard consequences which might affect my own fortunes, and which, in fact, have often proved injurious to them. And to the purpose which I have followed since I was a boy, I shall devote the rest of my life.