Heresies of Sea Power/Part 1/Chapter 6
VI
THE RUSSO-JAPANESE WAR
When the war began the two active fleets were, on paper, not unequally matched, while in the matter of reserves the advantage lay entirely with Russia. The Japanese fleet consisted of four first-class and two second-class battleships, six armoured cruisers, one old battleship, and a number of small protected cruisers eminently suited for minor operations. There was also a very considerable torpedo division. At sea, en route for Japan, were two armoured cruisers, (Nisshin and Kasuga,) which had been purchased just before war was declared. A few small craft were in hand in Japanese dockyards, but nothing was building there likely to affect the war. The entire existing fleet was in commission, well trained and ready for war, and the whole was under the command of Admiral Togo, who, as captain of the Naniwa, had earned laurels in the war with China ten years before.[1]
The Russian Pacific fleet consisted of two firstclass and five second-class battleships, two armoured cruisers, two belted cruisers—of which one, the Rurik, was obsolete,—a few protected cruisers individually more powerful than the corresponding Japanese vessels, but numerically fewer, and a torpedo force considerably inferior numerically to the Japanese one. There were also at least one submarine and some gunboats. This force was divided, in that four cruisers were at Vladivostok and one with a gunboat at Chemulpo—a condition necessitated, so far as the Vladivostok division was concerned, by the smallness of Port Arthur harbour. The fleet was under the general command of Admiral Alexieff, with Admiral Stark as commander-in-chief at Port Arthur. At sea, on the way out, was a reinforcement under Admiral Virenius, consisting of one second-class battleship, one protected cruiser, some details and some destroyers. Owing to trouble with the destroyers this squadron never got beyond the Red Sea. At home, building or completing, were five first-class battleships and some destroyers. There were also two old battleships, several obsolete belted cruisers, and three modern fast protected cruisers. Russia, then, had a force that on paper was one fleet on the scene slightly inferior to the Japanese and another fleet slightly inferior at home. In the matter of bases Japan was most adequately provided for, while Russia had at Port Arthur and Vladivostok only two second-class dockyards, though directly war was declared she sent to the former the pick of her mechanics.
Japan's first move was, in appearance at any rate, a defiance of the Mahan principles of Sea Power, because in the face of an almost equal hostile fleet she

embarked an army in transports and sent this force with a small escort to Chemulpo. Here a Russian cruiser was encountered, and blown up by her captain after a short action that was not particularly creditable to either side. Had Captain Roudineff, of the Variag, been a man of genius there is little doubt but that, in view of the lack of caution displayed by the Japanese Admiral Uryu in his attack, he might have accomplished something. As it was, he seems never to have attempted anything serious.
Before this event occurred Admiral Togo had acted elsewhere. On the night of February 8–9th, he sent his destroyers to attack the Russian fleet lying outside Port Arthur, a dangerous place to lie in, but necessitated by the fact that the Port Arthur entrance was so small and the fleet so inefficient that it had to collect outside because it could not emerge on a single tide. War had been officially declared about six o'clock on the evening of the 8th, but this information was (so it is said) suppressed by Admiral Alexieff, and many Russian officers were on shore. Only one Russian ship, the cruiser Bayan, appears to have been in any way prepared for war.
Owing to mishaps incidental to torpedo attacks, only one division of Japanese destroyers delivered an attack. Two first-class battleships and one cruiser were hit, and the surprise was so complete that the Russians never even fired till the Japanese boats were gone. It now seems established that the surprise was effected through the Japanese destroyers being taken for Russian boats—Russian signals being imitated, a perfectly legitimate war ruse concerning which the Russians subsequently protested very unreasonably.
On the following morning Togo's main fleet appeared, and a desultory battle, chiefly remarkable for the bad shooting on both sides, followed. The Russians were supported by their land batteries, and it appears that such slight advantage as there was rested with them. The Iwate was very badly hit, and so were one or two battleships, chiefly from the fire of the forts. The Russian cruiser Novik got within torpedo range of Togo's flagship, the Mikasa, and missed her only by extraordinary bad luck for Russia or good luck for Japan. Most of the damage by ship fire was inflicted by the Bayan, and practically Captains Wiren and Von Essen of the Bayan and Novik fought the battle. As, counting the shore defences, Russia had the advantage on her side, her fleet, had it been properly handled, ought to have done far more than it did.
After this engagement nothing of any great importance happened for some while. The Japanese expended many old merchant ships and many valuable lives in futile attempts to block the Russian fleet inside Port Arthur. These operations were conducted with fanatical bravery, but were, it is now known, complete failures in every case. As an instance of the bravery exhibited, it may be mentioned that it was quite a common thing during these incidents for half-a-dozen Japanese, unable to escape to seaward, to try to carry some Russian ship or fort by boarding[2] or rushing.
Meanwhile, Admiral Stark had been replaced by Admiral Makaroff, an officer, who, in early life, had earned considerable renown for torpedo exploits in the war with Turkey. His first task was the Herculean one of attempting to organise his fleet; his plan being to skirmish till all ships were repaired and then fight a big action.[3] The Russian destroyers at this time made many attempts to find Togo's fleet, but Togo was far too good an admiral thus to be caught. All the attempts were failures, and but for the cover afforded by the Bayan, most or all of the Russian torpedo craft would have been cut off by Togo's light craft acting inshore. In one of these affairs, the Japanese battle fleet suddenly appeared, attempting to cut off four cruisers, but, curiously enough, sustained more losses than it inflicted.[4] In April the Bayan was all but cut off again, and Makaroff, coming out to the rescue with the battle fleet, was very nearly intercepted by Togo. Retreating, his flagship Petropavlosk ran on to a mine, and the admiral, with almost all his crew, perished. Another battleship was also damaged.
"Within a month Russia recouped herself from this reverse. In one day, the Japanese lost the battleships Hatsuse and Yashima,[5] and the cruiser Yoshino was also sunk. The incident is remarkable for the skill and patriotism with which the Japanese concealed much of the disaster, and for the crass inability of the Russians to follow up their advantage. Victory was then within their reach, or, at least, nearer than at any time before or since. At one blow the Japanese had lost one-third of their battle fleet, whereas the Russian definite loss stood at one-seventh of the battle fleet only. Nothing, however, was attempted until the Japanese had been given time to adapt themselves to the changed conditions. Not till July did the Russians make a feeble sortie. They met, and repelled without loss to themselves a vigorous torpedo attack; then returned ingloriously to harbour. Meanwhile, the ships at Vladivostok had attempted a guerre de course. Fishing-boats and other small fry were equally acceptable to them as more important ships, and they accomplished nothing of moment beyond compelling Togo to detach four armoured cruisers to deal with them (which however was a distinct result). They were eventually defeated off Tsushima on August 11. At Port Arthur, the Bayan ran on a mine and was totally disabled. The rest of the fleet under Admiral Witgeft went out on August 10 with orders to go to Vladivostok—where, it may be suggested, they should have been all along. The fleet had not gone far when Togo appeared and the battle of Round Island took place. The ships engaged were:—
Japanese | Russian | |
2nd1st class battleships | 3 | 2 |
2nd class„ battleships„ | 1 | 4 |
2nd3rd class„ battleships„ | 1 | 0 |
Armoured cruisers | 4 | 0 |
Both sides had some light craft and torpedo vessels with them. The proportions in line of battle in fighting value were, reducing all ships to the value of first-class battleships, approximately as 6.6 Japanese to 5.2 Russian, but as many of the Russian ships were but partially repaired the Japanese superiority was really greater in matériel, and it was, of course, infinitely greater in personnel. Japanese shooting was good, the Russian gunnery has been described as 'excellent but unlucky.' Witgeft manœuvred his ships well enough, and the first part of the battle was quite indecisive. About a quarter to six Togo, who had drawn out of range, closed in again. Witgeft was killed, and his flagship, injured but not totally disabled, crept away to Kiao Chau. Togo's flaghip, the Mikasa, equally injured, kept the line. The death of the admiral threw the Russians into confusion, and Prince Ukhtomsky, the second in command, ordered a retreat. The ships, except a few that interned themselves in neutral ports, crept back to their base seriously injured, but with the relatively small loss of 81 killed and 420 wounded. The Japanese lost 77 killed and 148 wounded. Togo, attacked by the Russian destroyers, and compelled not to hazard his battleships, did not pursue, and during the night both fleets appear to have steamed hard away from each other.[6]
Witgeft dead, Wiren, the former captain of the Bayan, was made admiral of what was left of the Russian fleet. He was the only man among the Russian captains who had ever done anything; indeed, all the foreign attaches inside Port Arthur speak of him as constituting the entire effective Russian force. The rest, excepting Captain Von Essen, were more or less incompetent, and many of them suffered badly from 'nerves.' The Japanese land bombardment made it, however, impossible for Wiren to repair his ships, and both men and guns were taken for shore service by General Stoessel. He lay inactive,[7] therefore, after telegraphing to the Tsar a request for the Baltic Fleet to be sent at once. In December Stoessel surrendered Port Arthur, and for nine days was a popular hero. It was then discovered that the fortress was well supplied still and might have continued to resist for months, and the capitulation must ever remain as a disgrace to the Russian arms.
After the capture of Port Arthur, nothing was done by the Japanese except to await the arrival of the Baltic Fleet under Rogestvensky. The fleet merely lay in Tsushima Straits. It drilled industriously for battle, but it certainly did not contribute to carrying on the war. The Baltic Fleet was badly officered, though Rogestvensky himself was a capable man, and according to his lights tried to drill it into efficiency.[8] No one, however, seems to have realised what war meant, the genius of Togo and the capability of his men were not at all understood. The result was a foregone conclusion—at the psychological moment it was found that the Russians could not shoot in bad weather, and some ships seem to have been in a state akin to mutiny. Mostly, however, the Russians fought bravely enough, as they lay in a muddled circle with the Japanese around them. The affair was almost a battue, as ship after ship came up and crumbled away under the welldirected Japanese fire and then succumbed to equally well-directed torpedo attack. Four ships surrendered. The Japanese sustained no damage worthy of the name. And so the naval war ended.
It is the fashion to attribute Japan's success to Togo's genius and Japanese nautical skill, but these reasons are hardly the real ones. Togo's genius, though of a high order, was nothing out of the way, nor was Japanese efficiency anything specially remarkable. The real cause of victory lay rather in the splendid patriotism of all ranks, the readiness of every Japanese to die for his country. Every single man in the Japanese fleet contributed his full share to the result. Of not a single Russian—save perhaps Captain Wiren—can that be said. Many Russians fought bravely enough, and the story of the Oushakoff and Borodino at Tsushima which, by all accounts, went down firing to the end, is a story of which any nation might be proud; but such cases were rare. For the lack of patriotism the Russian Government is to be blamed; but equally, too, the Russian people. A nation which places its political salvation before its success in war, no matter how justified, is bound to go under in conflict with a nation like Japan. Japan had political malcontents, but with war each one became silent. The political situation, the fruit of corrupt government, made itself felt in the Russian fleet. A Japanese killed in the war died for the salvation of his country, died for something; but the Russians who died, died for nothing. There is no doubt that this told in battle. Consequently the Russians, apart from their natural deficiencies, were handicapped in this matter also. For the ignominious defeat, the Russian Navy has perhaps been unduly blamed. Free from blame it certainly was not; but the contemptible attitude of the Russians as a nation was to blame as much or more. To everyone in Japan the war was a thing of life or death: the object of all Japanese, victory. The Russian nation contained an enormous number of people who more or less openly avowed a desire for defeat because thereby the political situation at home might be improved. The conditions which made men capable of holding such views, allowing the war to have been totally unjust, the conditions which permitted the expression of such views whatever they may have indicated ethically, emphatically indicated 'unfitness to win.' Never perhaps in history has there been so marked an instance of a nation earning and deserving defeat.
We may now proceed to examine in somewhat fuller detail certain of those incidents of the war which will be valuable for all time. Of these the invasion of Korea in face of an unbeaten and nearly equal fleet especially demands attention. The situation, as has elsewhere been remarked, was in some ways not very dissimilar to the invasion of Sicily by the Romans in face of the existence of the Carthaginian fleet.[9] An extremely important point is that Russia, despite political bluff, was obviously not anxious to go to war. Carthage was in exactly that condition in her first conflict with Rome. Owing to this Rome was able to invade Sicily with impunity; and so it is perhaps wrong to accept her success as bearing on the question whether invasion in face of a hostile fleet is possible. Japan's ignoring of the 'cardinal principle' must also be put in the same category. The official Russian correspondence, published just about the time that peace was agreed on, indicates this very clearly. For by the correspondence before the war it is plain that Japan was entitled by Russian agreement to land troops in Korea, and Chemulpo, where a landing was actually effected, was particularly specified. Consequently an invasion of Korea was not a warlike act in itself. More, it is clear that those Russians who expected war were anxious rather than otherwise to see the Japanese land, hoping this to prove to their ultimate advantage. The Russian orders were not to interfere with the Japanese unless they attempted operations against northern Korea: otherwise the Japanese were to be allowed to commit the first act.
Exactly what Russia really intended will probably never be known with certainty. Presumably, (as the Japanese undoubtedly believed,) the Russian plan was to temporise and evade until such time as the Russian force should be sufficiently superior to crush Japan by menace. However, this is a point of minor importance: the essential fact is that Japan's preliminary invasion was not a defiance of Sea Power principles in itself. It became so, only with the threats to the Variag and the torpedo attack at Port Arthur—after which Japan felt herself strong enough to continue invading.
Her invading army never seems to have been in any serious danger. The Vladivostok cruisers now and again had a slight and very temporary effect on communications: but generally speaking it was found that the 'fleet in being' of Russia was a negligible quantity. But the lessons to be drawn from this are rendered doubtful by the fact that Russia in the Crimean war pursued identical tactics in the matter of not using her fleet to attack an oversea invasion. We know then, that this was a matter of definite policy. How far a similar policy was in force in the war under review we cannot yet ascertain. Till it is known, we cannot assign a cipher to the 'fleet in being' remedy against invasion, on the grounds that the Russian fleet to all intents and purposes was innocuous to the invading army of Japan.
Perhaps one of the most prominent features of the war, certainly the most novel was the large use made of floating mines. These were used promiscuously by both sides: indeed most of the so-called Russian floating mines destroyed in the Gulf of Pechili were Japanese.
Strictly speaking the laying of mines outside the three-mile limit is illegal; but in these days the three-mile limit is obsolete and illogical. If mines have any object at all, that object is the prevention of bombardments. Bombarding range is, however, at least anything up to five miles or so, hence the absurdity of expecting any belligerent to observe strictly a rule which would render his mines half useless. From this, it is an easy step for him to go far out to sea: indeed to be effective blockade mines must be laid where they are least expected. In this war they were frequently so laid.
The most was not, however, made of them. For instance after the first torpedo attack the captain of the Yenesi wished to go and lay mines off all Japanese harbours, but permission was refused him; and though the Japanese laid mines off Vladivostok they did not lay them in effective places.
Though a good many ships were sunk by mines, it was in no case clear that the fatal mines were hostile ones.
As regards the Japanese losses, some of course are not proved to be by mines at all. The Takasago, for instance, which 'struck a mine one dark night off Port Arthur' may very possibly have been torpedoed. If not, the mine is just as likely to have been Japanese as Russian. The loss of the Hei-Yen may also have been by torpedo: at any rate, the ship was within easy radius of Russian torpedo craft. More, then, may have been attributed to mines than was due to them; and of the authentic cases the nationality of the mine is often doubtful.
On the whole it may be said that this was the first war in which the mine appeared as an important factor, although ships had been destroyed by it in the past, especially in the U. S. Civil "War in estuaries and rivers. Neither side can be said to have utilised the 'new arm' to the best advantage, and — the nationality of those mines which were effective being in doubt—it cannot be shown that either side gained to any great extent by their use. It is quite possible that if the Japanese had used no mines at all they would have been a ship or two better off. The uncertainty of mines was also demonstrated. Undoubtedly many broke adrift by accident or stress of weather: there are also cases in which ships passed uninjured over mine fields.[10]
The torpedo hardly came up to expectation in this war. Except in the doubtful cases of the Mikasa all torpedo attacks on ships in motion were failures till the last battle, and in that only ships already disabled by gun fire seem to have suffered.
The limited radius of torpedo craft was heavily felt by both sides. Thus, the Russian boats were never able to go far enough to encounter the Japanese fleet. Japanese boats were remarkably ubiquitous, but for four days work they had to have eight days rest, during which time their defects and injuries were made good. Repairs were effected at a phenomenal rate,[11] and, whatever is to be said upon the limits of torpedo craft utility or the success of Japanese torpedo attack, there is no question that no nation could have got more work out of the boats than did the Japanese.
Whether Japanese torpedoes hit or missed is a comparatively unimportant detail; there is probably no lesson for the future in their percentage of misses. The point of historical importance is how often or how seldom were the Japanese able to have their boats at the necessary spot at the necessary moment. On this matter we know that, as boats served only one-third of their time, 66 per cent, of the force was useless at any given moment. From this it may be argued that three boats on paper means one boat actually and continually in service—a proportion not at all likely to be exceeded in any future war. But, on the other hand, there is the evidence of Round Island and Tsushima to show that at psychological moments the whole, or nearly the whole of the Japanese torpedo force was available. This would suggest that torpedo craft are a complete force, acting intermittently, rather than a partial force, acting constantly. On the whole it must be admitted that the influence of torpedo craft on the result of the war was small, even though the torpedo paralysed the Russian fleet at the outbreak of the war, and gave the coup de grâce to it after Tsushima.
In the first case the conditions that obtained were altogether abnormal; in the second, as the Russians had only a trifling torpedo force (and that apparently not detailed for torpedo work) special conditions also obtained, as between the Japanese boats and their objective, there was none of that counter-attack which may be depended on to neutralise the operations of torpedo craft in the majority of instances. At Round Island, where torpedo craft figured both sides, the results secured were negative. In the general night attack on the Port Arthur fleet in the previous sortie, no ships were torpedoed though attacks were pressed home all night. Only at Tsushima were hits secured, and here apparently only after several attacks upon demoralised and damaged vessels.[12] Certainly the operations cannot be said to substantiate most of what the advocates of the torpedo claimed for it ere the war broke out.
Of gunnery, as of torpedo, it must be said that the war taught nothing new. Every lesson corresponded with the result of experiment or the experiences of former wars. Ships, indeed, sank more easily under gun fire at Tsushima than had been expected, but it was subsequently shown that the conditions were artificial. The Russian battleships—none of them triumphs of the ship builder's art—were overloaded and unduly submerged. Consequently the thin upper belts were in actual result their water-line belts, so that to all intents and purposes the Borodinos were no better protected than the Japanese armoured cruisers. All, too, appear to have had a fore and aft bulkhead down the centre line.
The career of the Baltic Fleet was, perhaps, the most interesting feature of the campaign. Its modern ships were hastily completed; its old ships obsolete units more detrimental than assisting. Its officers were mostly either cadets hastily promoted or military officers pressed into the sea service. Its men were chiefly raw, and in some ships mutinous as well. Sea experience was lacking to all the personnel, and the coal problem was acute.
Yet by the time the fleet reached Singapore it kept station well enough to excite remark, and in several other matters it was found to be at least superior to what had been anticipated. The credit of this belongs entirely to Admiral Rogestvensky whose abilities, owing to the defeat of Tsushima have not perhaps been properly recognised. The task he faced was undoubtedly a great one. When all things are considered impartially the wonder is rather that his men shot as well as they did than that they shot so badly, that his ships offered so much resistance as they did rather than that they were so easily defeated.
So far as, so soon after the event, the truth can be got at, it appears that Rogestvensky's scouts sighted what they took to be the main Japanese fleet off Formosa. Either the Japanese had—as Russians assert—a dummy fleet lying there, or else Rogestvensky's scouts were peculiarly imaginative—a quality for which the Baltic Fleet was generally distinguished. In any case it appears that the Baltic Fleet when it entered the straits of Tsushima believed the bulk of the Japanese navy to be behind it, and the way to Vladivostok barred only by a certain number of torpedo craft and cruisers, through which in the fog it had a fair chance of passing unobserved. Rogestvensky's formation in two battle lines was a sound enough one in view of attacks from small craft only: it was so hopelessly bad against a battle-fleet attack that it is almost in itself evidence that he never expected to meet Togo when he did. Meeting him thus it is probable that a considerably better fleet would have been annihilated with equal ease.
It is said by the Russians, probably truly, that the sudden discovery that they were faced with a fleet action overwhelmed them completely. Whether this be so or not, it speaks much for the Russians that they were able during the night that followed to act in unison sufficiently to beat off two of the torpedo attacks: the wonder is that they held together so long, not that they scattered so soon. Once scattered, of course their destruction was very simple. Even at the end only four ships, the division of which Admiral Nebogatoff was in command, were sufficiently demoralised to surrender.
Of Admiral Nebogatoff's surrender two views may be taken. There is first of all the humanitarian view that to continue fighting was only a needless sacrifice of life. This view was true, but few naval officers will question that it was also wrong, and the degradation inflicted on Nebogatoff by the Russian Admiralty justified by expediency. We know perfectly well that Japanese similarly circumstanced would never have surrendered. We know that the Oushakoff similarly circumstanced refused to surrender, and sank still firing. So, too, the Rurik in an earlier fight near the same spot. 'Death or victory' is a melodramatic phrase; but it is also a necessity, and the leader who is prepared to accept the latter alternative is not properly prepared for it (or likely to attain it) unless he is equally ready to accept the former. However useless the deaths of those who went down in the Oushakoff may appear, their deaths were at least almost as useful to the Russian Navy of the future as if they had died in the course of a victory. Once the principle of justified surrender be admitted, it is impossible to draw the line, and the slightest suggestion of force majeure becomes a logical excuse for capitulation.[13] This may be ethically defensible; but a navy with such ethics is quite useless for the purpose for which it is created. The action of the Russian Admiralty in its merciless degradation of Nebogatoff and his captains is perhaps its one strong action during the war. Alongside it we may lay the action of the Chinese authorities who executed every man left alive after the surrender of Wei-hai-wei in the Chino-Japanese war: an action of great barbarity but—making due allowance for peculiar Chinese ideas and customs—not altogether to be blamed. Or we may go back to the Carthaginians and their cruel but probably useful practice of crucifying the defeated leader. It did not insure victory; but it was certainly a safeguard against defeat wherever victory was possible. So were the Chinese and Russian regulations on the matter.
The Russian ones were very clear: that in the event of defeat a captain was to destroy his ship. This was done by the captains of the Varaig and Korietz: it was done (not very thoroughly) when General Stoessel surrendered Port Arthur: it was done by most of the captains of the ill-starred Baltic Fleet, and ought to have been done by Admiral Nebogatoff,[14] so that his omission to do so indicates better than any list of sunken ships the completeness of the Tsushima victory.
- ↑ See chapter on International Law.
- ↑ Three Japanese so attempted to capture the 'Retvizan' on one occasion.
- ↑ 'A Voice from the Russian Navy,' Fighting Ships, 1906.
- ↑ The damage was,of course, trifling on either side; but the incident suggests that fast cruisers are more able to run the gauntlet of battleship fire than has sometimes been supposed. The use of battleships for attempt to cut off enemies is interesting.
- ↑ On this day or about this time the Mikasa hit a mine which did not explode, and another mine actually exploded against the Asahi without, however, inflicting any injury worth mention.
- ↑ In this retreat the Mikasa is said to have dropped astern and to have been taken for the Tssesarevitch by a Japanese destroyer which fired a torpedo at her. The story has never been officially admitted, but is more probably true than false.
- ↑ There seem to have been some Russians anxious to go out, and a majority holding the view that to remain inside in addition to being safer would better assist the defence of the base. At no time do any of them appear to have realised that a base when not serving as a base to a military fleet has no value.
- ↑ He did much tube-cannon practice, but big guns were never once fired all the way out.—' With the Baltic Fleet.' Fighting Ships, 1906.
- ↑ See Chapter II.
- ↑ Mikasa, Shikishima, and Asahi got on to a mine field just after the loss of the Hatsuse and Yashima. The flagship hit a mine which failed to explode, the Shikishima avoided it, finally one hit the Asahi and exploded but did no harm, as it was floating.
- ↑ One destroyer was entirely rebuilt from amidships within, it is said, three weeks.
- ↑ The statement of Admiral Nebogatoff (Fighting Ships, 1906) still further discounts the torpedo, for according to this account only ships that burned searchlights got torpedoed. All Nebogatoff's own ships—though hampered by 'quick firers' that fired one round a minute and unprotected by light craft—survived the night attack.
- ↑ The process was witnessed at one stage of the South African war.
- ↑ It may, however, be noted that the final reason given by Admiral Nebogatoff in his article in the 1906 Fighting Ships gives a justification outside the naval standpoint.