Navalism
‘Unforgettable the thunder of the guns shaking the golden blue of sky and sea while not a breath stirred the palm-trees, not a cloud moved on the swanlike snows of Lebanon.’
James Elroy Flecker and Sir John Squire (Ed.), The Collected Poems of James Elroy Flecker, 19471
THE Italian naval contingent in the Red Sea was reinforced in early January with four modern destroyers of the ‘Soldati Artigliere’ class; the Artigliere (1907), Granatiere, (1906) Bersagliere (1906) and Garibaldino (1910). These vessels were attached because of intelligence reports that the Ottoman Navy was attempting to redeploy a number of its ships from the Persian Gulf into the area. The Italians were seemingly concerned that these might be used to transport Ottoman troops across the Red Sea to attack Eritrea. In retrospect this seems rather far-fetched. Though mainly modern, the Ottoman ships hardly constituted a formidable force. They were: the 240-tonne German-built gunboat, Kastamonu (1905) the name-ship of its class, and the French constructed 315-tonne ‘Taskopru’ class Gokcedag (1908), Refahiye (1908), Ayintab (1908), Ordu (1908), and Bafra (1908). Their largest calibre weapon was one 75 mm gun on the Kastamonu, whilst the rest mounted nothing heavier than 47 mm but were possessed of one 450 mm torpedo tube apiece. Accompanying these were two British-built vessels; the steam yacht ipka (constructed as the Fauvette in 1892) and the tug Muha of unknown age. None of this heterogeneous flotilla could steam at more than 12 knots. The Italians believed that these vessels had arrived in the Red Sea and had secreted themselves in and around the Farsan (Farasan) Islands (Jaza’ir Farasan). Accordingly they began searching the area and the adjacent littoral zone.
On the afternoon of 7 January the Artigliere in company with the Garibaldino and protected cruiser Piemonte, found the enemy ships anchored at Al Qunfidhah. The Italians did not know it, but they were more or less stranded there having run short of coal. The supply vessel carrying their fuel, the Kaiserieh, had been masquerading as a hospital ship flying the Red Crescent, and had been stopped by the Puglia on 16 December. Upon boarding the ship however, the Italians could find no sign of any hospital beds or other medical provisions or arrangements, merely a cargo of coal. Accordingly the ship was taken as a prize.
Italian East Africa and the Red Sea. The Italian naval contingent in the Red Sea was reinforced in January 1912 with four modern destroyers. These vessels were deployed because of intelligence reports that the Ottoman Navy was attempting to redeploy a number of its ships from the Persian Gulf into the area. The Italians were seemingly concerned that these might be used to transport Ottoman troops across the mostly modern, the Ottoman ships hardly constituted a formidable force, being small gunboats in the main. Several Ottoman ports were subjected to naval bombardment, but there were no battles worthy of the name. (© Charles Blackwood).
The Artigliere opened fire on the Ottoman ships, which replied as best they could, assisted by the shore defences. The engagement, which was quickly joined by the Piemonte and Garibaldino, took place at fairly long range, about 4500-6000 metres, giving the advantage to the larger Italian guns. After some three hours firing, the entire Ottoman flotilla had been sunk, run aground or, in the case of the ipka, scuttled, whilst the shore defences were silenced. The Italians landed the next morning, completed the destruction of the three beached gunboats, and refloated the ipka, which they were able to tow off as a prize.
With these last remnants of Ottoman naval power in the area destroyed, Italian naval action was restricted to bombarding the easily accessible ports; Al-Aqabah (Aqaba, Akaba), Jabanah (Djebana), Cheikh Saïd (Sheik Said), Mocha (Mocca) and Midi (Midy).2 A blockade was also declared from 24 January along the Ottoman coast on the Red Sea, stretching a distance of some 75 kilometres on each side of Al Hudaydah (Hodeida). Neutral vessels would be given five days in which to clear from the blockaded ports.
Neutral ships had been stopped by the Italians before the blockade came into being. One such was the Africa, a British registered vessel. On 20 January she was intercepted by Volturno en route from Al Hudaydah to Aden and a boarding party discovered twelve Ottoman officers aboard, including the distinguished Colonel Riza Bey. They were taken prisoner and removed from the ship. On 23 January the Österreichischer Lloyd vessel Bregenz was stopped and again a number of Ottoman officers were removed.
No protests were made regarding these, and other similar, actions (and according to Sir Edward Grey, about 61 per cent of the vessels passing through the Suez Canal and Red Sea at the time were British3), but the imposition of the blockade in general caused British objections. As has already been noted, Italian actions in Tripoli occasioned ‘immense ferment’ amongst Britain’s Islamic subjects in India, and their actions in the Red Sea exacerbated this. It was argued by, for example, the All India Muslim League that the blockade threatened to prevent pilgrims from the sub-continent performing Hajj.4 Also exacerbating this situation was the Italian encouraged seizure of the Farsan Islands by the followers of the rebellious Sayyid Muhammad Ibn Ali al-Idrisi in early February. Situated on the main island was a quarantine centre through which those pilgrims travelling to Mecca on ships were obliged to pass. This centre, together with a similar station at El-Tor (El Tur) in Sinai on the Gulf of Suez, had been established following an outbreak of cholera in 1865. The disease originated in India and was spread to Arabia by pilgrims before moving on to Europe, causing the death of some 200,000 people worldwide. Thus quarantine procedures, supervised by Britain and the Ottoman Empire, now became part of the sea-going pilgrim’s experience.5 There was an element of hyperbole in these protests inasmuch as the last Dhu al-Hijjah, the month of pilgrimage, as calculated by the Gregorian calendar occurred between 23 November and 21 December 1911. The next was due to occur between 12 November and 10 December 1912. Nevertheless, the British government quietly protested about the matter and was, in a similar manner, reassured by Italy that interference with the Hajj would not be permitted.6
France, as well as making similar protests over the potential disruption to those of her subjects who wanted to undertake the Hajj, had another more particular complaint against Italian actions. A French syndicate, the ‘Ottoman Hodeida-Sana’a and Branch Line Railway Company,’ led by the Banque Française pour le Commerce et de l’Industrie had begun to construct a short 17-kilometre railway between a planned new harbour at Ra’s Kath b (Rw-el-Ketib) and Al Hudaydah in 27 March 1911. As the name of the syndicate suggests, this was to be the start of a line from the port to Sana’a, the largest and most important inland city in southern Arabia (and now the capital of the Republic of Yemen), and situated about 160 kilometres inland. This first section ran along a long spit that connected the harbour and town, and a little less than half had been completed by January 1912. This spit lay between the open sea and Jabanah (Djebana) and unfortunately during a bombardment by the Piemonte, the railway was severely damaged and the project had to be abandoned. The syndicate sued the Italian government for 200,000 lira for the damage to French property.7
Though the destruction of Ottoman naval assets in the Red Sea was undoubtedly a useful operation of war in itself, it did not of course bring much pressure to bear on the Ottoman government with respect to the wider conflict. Ottoman complaints about Italy’s actions were unceasing, but, as must have been very clear to them by now, no Great Power intervention against Italy was likely to take place until some Great Power vital interest was threatened. The Ottoman government believed that one such area of vital interest related to Syria, where France had long standing and internationally recognised ambitions.8 At the time, the boundaries of the area termed ‘Syria’ were imprecise, but in the current context it roughly meant the coast of modern Syria and Lebanon. The Ottoman government believed any Italian naval action along this coast was likely to provoke French intervention. Such was the information conveyed to Giolitti by one of his sources in Istanbul, Giuseppe Volpi.9 As Giolitti stated it in his memoirs: ‘Notwithstanding the state of war, indirect relationships of an absolutely private character were maintained between us and important members of the Ottoman government regime.’ Volpi, with his ‘wide network of knowledge and relationships,’ thus acted as an unofficial conduit between the two governments.10 This then was the political context within which the Italian Navy mounted an attack on Beirut on 24 February, which, as Childs points out, may have been made in an attempt to disabuse the Ottomans of any prospect of such intervention.11 The ostensible reason sometimes given for it, that the two Ottoman warships at anchor there might ‘interfere with the transportation of Italian troops to the Red Sea,’ is unconvincing.12 The larger vessel was the Avnillah (Avn-Illah), which had been constructed in Britain in 1869 as a casemate corvette; at some 2,300 tonnes a lighter version of a central battery ship. She was, literally, an ironclad and had been obsolete for decades although, according to the London Times correspondent in Beirut, she was ‘interesting as a naval antiquity.’13 Although rebuilt in 1907, her engines were worn out and so she was unmanoeuvrable under her own steam. The smaller ship was the 165-tonne ‘Antalya’ class torpedo-boat Ankara, constructed in Italy in 1906. Armed with two 450 mm torpedo tubes, she was undoubtedly a more potent force than her harbour-mate, but hardly a threat to Italian naval supremacy.
To despatch these two warships Vice-Admiral Luigi Faravelli sent half the 4th Division of his 2nd Squadron, the armoured cruisers Giuseppe Garibaldi (flag) and Francesco Ferruccio, taking the command himself. According to his official report, the Italian ships ‘surprised’ the Ottoman ships at daybreak in the Port of Beirut, and ordered them to surrender before 09:00 hours. No sign of this being manifested at the expiration of the deadline, a signal demanding surrender was hoisted, and when this elicited no response fire was opened upon the Avnillah, which the report throughout calls a ‘gunboat.’ This vessel ‘replied energetically’ until 09:20 hours when it was seen that it had been set alight and firing ceased. The Italian flagship then proceeded to the mouth of the harbour and engaged the Ankara, which was ‘badly damaged’ before being destroyed by a torpedo. The report ended by stating that ‘The report that the town of Beirut was bombarded is absolutely false.’14
A credible neutral observer generally confirms Faravelli’s report, though demonstrates that he was somewhat economical with the truth. Howard Bliss, since 1903 the President of the American University of Beirut (founded 1866), had a panoramic view of the action from the campus overlooking the Mediterranean: ‘From the College grounds we could easily see the firing, and from the College tower the view was still more clear.’ One of his colleagues, Mrs. Professor Nickoley, was near the waterfront when the ‘serious firing’ began, and he recounted her story:
She said that the excitement was indescribable. Shops were closed. Hundreds of people poured into the streets. Animosity against suspected Italians was fierce. She saw two persons fall as a result of revolver or gun shots or other attacks. A Russian Jew, supposed to be an Italian, was attacked, but he was not killed. It is probable, however, that the people were more frightened for their own safety than bent upon revenge.
Bliss noted that ‘before long’, presumably at 09:20 hours, the firing from the vessels ceased, ‘but one of them proceeded slowly to the opening of the port, coming within a few rods [1 rod = 5.0292 metres] of the breakwater.’ His account continued:
The breakwater runs east and west and then at right angles with it another portion runs north and south leaving an opening between the two portions for the entrance of vessels. The Italian vessel took up its position just at this opening and soon began firing upon the Turkish gunboat which was lying in the harbor. […]
Huge columns of water rose up from where the shells or torpedoes struck, and a great volume of smoke arose from the attacked gun-boat. […] After firing quite a number of shots the Italian warship withdrew, and with its companion went off in a northerly and then a northwesterly direction, to a point eight or ten miles away.
Another pair of his colleagues who ventured to the telegraph office reckoned that they saw the bodies of ‘fifteen or twenty’ people who had been killed by the explosion of a shell near the port. At least some of them had become victims when the balcony of a hotel near to the Custom House had collapsed, presumably after being hit by a shell. Probably thinking that with the retirement of the ships the excitement was over, Bliss went for luncheon. However, at about 14:00 hours, he interrupted his meal and went out to see ‘whether the vessels had changed their position.’ He was ‘surprised’ to note that they were returning and that one of them, the Giuseppe Garibaldi, was ‘making its way to the entrance of the inner harbor.’ As he put it:
For some unexplained reason the morning’s work had not destroyed the small Turkish torpedo boat, and this second visit was for the purpose of finishing the morning’s work. […] The warship directed its fire against the torpedo boat and soon sunk it. Among the five or six shots that were fired was another shell that went screeching over the city and landed, presumably, on the sands near the Municipal Hospital. […] Immediately after firing the shots the Italian warship withdrew, and together with her sister ship sailed away, remaining, however, within sight of the College, fifteen miles to the northwest.15
Contemporaneous official communications from the authorities at Beirut reckoned that 50 sailors that had been aboard the Avnillah were missing presumed dead, and 30 civilians had been killed and another 100 wounded during the attack. The total number of sailors and civilians killed was later amended to a round figure of 100.16 The civilian casualties had mainly occurred because a large crowd had gathered on the quayside to watch the attack and these were hit by ‘splinters from ricocheting shells.’17
The Austro-Hungarian Ambassador immediately protested over the action, in the ‘erroneous’ belief that the target of the bombardment had been the city rather than the warships. Barrère too made representations, but according to Giolitti these were put forward in a ‘friendly’ way.18 Perhaps slightly less friendly was the deployment of the armoured cruiser Amiral Charner (1894) from Crete to Beirut; as one newspaper put it: ‘there is £6,000,000 of French capital invested in Beirut.’19 Italy did attract criticism for bombarding the city, an act which it denied. Bliss’s report seems to confirm the Italian position in that the material damage, and the deaths and injuries, were the result of stray, rather than aimed, shells. Perhaps ironically, those who paid the highest price for the Italian attack at Beirut were those Italians that resided in the Ottoman Levant. The Ottoman Government announced on 26 February that, following the action, it had been decided to expel Italian subjects from the vilayets of Aleppo, Beirut and Damascus, plus the mutasarrifiyya (district) of Jerusalem, within fifteen days. The expulsion was only partial however, inasmuch as those in religious orders were exempted.20
The attack on the ships at Beirut, though relatively insignificant in itself, may nevertheless be viewed as something of a turning point. If it was meant to demonstrate to the Ottoman government that it could not rely on France, or indeed any of the other Great Powers, to deter Italy militarily then it worked. Conversely, the non-response of those powers sent much the same message to Giolitti and his government. This served to embolden them somewhat, and this at a time when they were becoming impatient at the frustrating refusal of the Ottoman regime to accept the Italian version of reality in North Africa. Romano argues that the Navy too was developing a sense of frustration and resentment at its lack of action, and wanted to be allowed to up the ante.21
The prospect of an expansion of the naval war had occurred to the Ottoman Government. Despatches from Istanbul on the day of the attack stated that the Ambassadors to the Great Powers had been instructed to inform these powers that should the Italian fleet appear off the Dardanelles then this seaway would be immediately closed by mine defences. On 27 February reports indicated that the Ambassadors had handed notes to the Great Powers protesting against the sinking at Beirut ‘without the usual notices.’ The note also announced that the Dardanelles would be closed if hostilities spread to the Aegean.22
This lurking though as yet unrealised threat to the Aegean generally and the Dardanelles specifically exercised the mind of the British Foreign Secretary. He circulated a message to the British Ambassadors to Austria-Hungary, France, Germany and Russia in an effort to coordinate action:
In view of the very serious injury which would be caused to commerce should the Turkish Government in self-defence proceed to close the Dardanelles by mines, I would like to know if the Government to which you are accredited would consider it desirable to approach Italy and ask her if she would be disposed to give an assurance that she would undertake no hostile operations in the Dardanelles and neighbouring waters.23
Sir George Buchanan at St Petersburg replied on 5 March, relaying the views of Sazanov. The Russian Foreign Minister argued that such an action would be incompatible with neutrality, and that he was most anxious to avoid taking any step to which the Italian Government could possibly take exception.24 The Austro-Hungarian view was essentially similar despite the death of Foreign Minister Count Lexa von Aehrenthal and his replacement, on 17 February 1912, by Count Leopold Berchtold. Berchtold continued his predecessor’s policy, writing to his Ambassadors in Berlin, Constantinople, London, Paris, Rome and St. Petersburg on 3 March of his reply to Sir Edward Grey’s approach:
Sir F[airfax] Cartwright [the British Ambassador] called on me yesterday and reiterated verbally the proposal [..] I told the Ambassador that, in my opinion, the Italian Government would not entertain the demand for a declaration that she will not undertake any warlike operations in the Dardanelles and the adjacent waters; it was our duty as neutrals to avoid all that might give the appearance that we wish to impede the freedom of action of either of the belligerent parties. In support of his representations Sir F. Cartwright asked whether the Italian Government had not previously made to the Vienna Cabinet a declaration coinciding in principle with the one which the five Powers were to demand now from Italy on Sir Edward Grey’s initiative. I replied to the Ambassador that I had never heard of such a declaration by Italy.25
Austria-Hungary was, as has been already noted, sensitive in the extreme to any disturbance of the status quo in the Balkans and Eastern Mediterranean. Moreover, relations with Italy over the matter were regulated by treaty; Article VII of the Triple Alliance as renewed in 1902 stated the obligations imposed on the two states quite clearly:
Austria-Hungary and Italy, being desirous solely that the territorial status quo in the near East be maintained as much as possible, pledge themselves to exert their influence to prevent all territorial modification which may prove detrimental to one or the other of the Powers signatory of this Treaty. To that end they shall communicate to one another all such information as may be suitable for their mutual enlightenment, concerning their own dispositions as well as those of other Powers.
Should, however, the status quo in the regions of the Balkans, or of the Turkish coasts and islands in the Adriatic and Aegean Seas, in the course of events become impossible; and should Austria-Hungary or Italy be placed under the necessity, either by the action of a third Power or otherwise, to modify that status quo by a temporary or permanent occupation on their part, such occupation shall take place only after a previous agreement has been made between the two Powers, based on the principle of reciprocal compensation for all advantages, territorial or otherwise, which either of them may obtain beyond the present status quo, a compensation which shall satisfy the legitimate interests and aspirations of both Parties.26
This Article had been clarified further by an agreement reached between Austria-Hungary and Italy ‘explaining and supplementing Article VII of the Treaty of the Triple Alliance of 1887.’ Signed on 30 November 1909 at Vienna and on 15 December at Rome this agreement rendered Article VII, which remained in force in its entirety, ‘more specific and complete’
Each of the two Cabinets binds itself not to conclude with a third Power any agreement whatsoever concerning Balkan questions without the participation of the other Cabinet on a footing of absolute equality; likewise, the two Cabinets bind themselves to communicate to each other every proposition which may be made to the one or to the other by a third Power, running contrary to the principle of nonintervention and tending to a modification of the status quo in the regions of the Balkans or of the Ottoman coasts and islands in the Adriatic and of the Aegean Sea.27
Thus by withholding agreement to any modification of the status quo Austria-Hungary was, under the terms of Article VII and its subsequent clarification, virtually granted a power of veto over any Italian move to widen the war. Whether or not this extended to an attack on the Dardanelles was another matter, but in order to bring diplomatic pressure to bear on Austria-Hungary to allow Italy to extend hostilities into the area concerned, Giolitti’s government invoked the assistance of the senior partner in the Triple Alliance.
Kaiser Wilhelm II habitually reserved the last half of March and the whole of April each year for trips to Italy and the Mediterranean, including his Aechilleion estate on Corfu which he had purchased in 1907. During his 1912 visit he stopped off at Venice for two days on 24-25 March, and whilst there he was visited by Victor Emmanuel III.28 The Kaiser was personally sympathetic to the Ottomans, although these sentiments were not fully shared by his Foreign Minister who wanted an end to the conflict. Generally, the two monarchs did not get on, but nevertheless the King was able to persuade the Emperor that Austro-Hungarian opposition to an extension of the conflict was harming the prospects of renewal of the Triple Alliance. Kaiser Wilhelm had never been averse to intervening in foreign affairs or indeed any aspect of the governance of Imperial Germany, though his influence had been severely curtailed following the embarrassing ‘Daily Telegraph Affair’ of 1908. However, on this occasion his inclinations were in line with those of Kiderlen, who began to apply diplomatic pressure on Berchtold.29 This was revealed in a telegraph message from Berchtold to Kajetan von Mérey, the Austro-Hungarian Ambassador at Rome, of 6 April. In this he related that Heinrich von Tschirschky, the German Ambassador, acting on instructions had ‘made to me the following declaration:’
In consequence of the long duration of the Italo-Turkish conflict, the situation is beginning to become serious for Italy, and both military circles and public opinion urge that a decisive blow be delivered. It is not a question of action in the Aegean Sea, but in the Dardanelles.
The Ambassador added in strict confidence that the King of Italy had approached Emperor William on the subject at Venice. The question now arising for Germany is, what attitude the Allies [i.e. Austria-Hungary and Germany] will take toward these intentions of Italy. You will please seek an occasion to converse with the Marchese di San Giuliano and tell him that you have perceived, from information received from Vienna, that it was a matter of great surprise to me to learn that von Tschirschky had been instructed by his Government to make the aforesaid intimation.
In consideration of our alliance, as well as of the friendly manner in which I have met Italy heretofore, I would have thought a direct discussion more natural and more expedient. At the same time you will hint that for conspicuous reasons I was obliged to adhere in principle to the standpoint which my predecessor had taken up in respect of an eventual extension of the hostilities.
Von Tschirschky explicitly designated an Italian action in the Dardanelles; the apprehension is easy to understand, that such action might find its echo in Constantinople and in the Balkans, the consequence of which may not be gauged to-day, but which would be diametrically opposed to the maintenance of the status quo—the policy pursued by both Italy and Austria-Hungary.
Should, nevertheless, the Italian Government find an extension of the region of her warlike operations indispensable, then I would certainly consider a direct discussion of the matter the most natural course to take. Without obtaining a decided consent from me, which would to a certain extent imply our participation in the responsibilities for the consequences, Italy may secure our tacit passivity in the event of an intended temporary warlike action, confined to such territories as would not involve the danger of a reaction in the Balkans.
If the Marchese di San Giuliano enters upon a discussion of any specific Italian operation, you will lead the conversation into other channels with the intimation that you consider such discussion inopportune. In fact, we must positively avoid every appearance that any specific warlike action had received our previous consent.30
Giuseppe, Duc d’Avama, the Italian Ambassador to Vienna, pursued this theme with Berchtold following von Tschirschky’s approach. The foreign minister related the course of this meeting to von Mérey on 15 April:
The Duke of Avama again broached the subject of a possible extension of the Italian naval operation, though pointing out with emphasis that he spoke without instructions.
I pointed out in the first place that, to my mind, an action by the Italian Navy outside of the North-African war theatre could accomplish its purpose only if it caused a strong enough impression in Constantinople to be felt in the Balkans. Such reaction, however, could not leave us, Italy’s allies, indifferent. A minor operation and a less extensive reaction would bring Italy no nearer to her aim, while it would still create a feeling of uneasiness with us if the scene of action comprised the territories referred to in Article VII of the Alliance Treaty.
Under these circumstances I could not give my express consent to any similar action whatsoever. The Duke of Avarna had not asked me to give such consent; but I, on my part, was determined to leave the responsibility for the consequences upon Italy’s shoulders.
Concerning the islands of Rhodos, Karpathos and Stampalia, I expressed my willingness to consider it disputable whether or not they pertain to the islands of the Aegean Sea. The Duke of Avarna replied that he felt convinced that his Government would give us its express assurances, in the event of their occupation, that such occupation would be only temporary.31
Indeed Stampalia (Astipalea, Astypalaia), whether or not it was diplomatically ‘removed’ from its normal geographic position, had been earmarked by the Italian navy as a forward base for any operations in the Aegean or Eastern Mediterranean. The fleet now had a new commander in Vice-Admiral Luigi Faravelli. He had succeeded to the post following the death through illness of the former C-in-C Vice-Admiral Augusto Aubry. Aubry had died aboard his flagship at Taranto on 4 March.
Faravelli was not long in position, for on 7 April he asked to be relieved on medical grounds as he was suffering from a ‘severe nervous ailment.’ He was succeeded on 9 April by Vice-Admiral Leone Viale and so it was under his auspices that, on 13 April, the Italian fleet sailed from Taranto. It arrived off Stampalia on 15 April and, with the arrival of additional vessels, concentrated there over the next two days. When Viale steamed eastwards on 17 April he had under his command the 1st Squadron – the battleships Vittorio Emanuele III (flag), Roma and Napoli (1st Division) and the armoured cruisers Pisa (flag), Amalfi, and San Marco (2nd Division). Also in hand was the 4th Division of the 2nd Squadron – the armoured cruisers Giuseppe Garibaldi (flag), Francesco Ferruccio, Varese and Marco Polo.
The battleship Roma of the Regina Elena (sometimes categorised as Vittorio Emanuele) class. The four ships of this class, Regina Elena, Vittorio Emanuele, Napoli, and Roma, were commissioned between 1901 and 1903 and were considered extremely fast. They were somewhat lightly armed, however, with a main battery of only two 305 mm guns each in single turrets. Because the Ottoman Navy refused battle, none of the Italian heavy ships saw any major action during the conflict. (Author’s Collection).
The fleet was accompanied by the destroyers Aquilone, Borea, Nembo, and Turbine, and the torpedo-boats, Calipso, Climene, Pegaso, Perseo, and Procione, under the command of the Duke of Abruzzia. The Duke flew his flag aboard the Vettor Pisani, and also had in his command two auxiliary cruisers and a cable ship. This latter vessel, the British-constructed Citta di Milano, was the first into action. During the night of the 17th/18th it grappled for, and then cut, the cable between the Dardanelles and Imbros (Gökçeada), the Ottoman island some 25 kilometres west of the southern tip of the Dardanelles. Also dredged up and severed were the cables that connected Lemnos with Tenedos (Bozcaada) and Salonica (Thessalonica), thus effectively disrupting Ottoman communications.
The main body of the fleet, less the torpedo boats which had been forced to seek shelter during the night because of rough seas, remained well out of range, whilst the armoured cruisers of Rear-Admiral Ernesto Presbitero’s 2nd Division approached the entrance to the strait at sunrise. If he was trying to lure out the Ottoman fleet then the manoeuvre failed, and at 09:00 hours, the whole fleet concentrated and steamed towards the Dardanelles in line ahead. An Ottoman destroyer was spotted near the entrance and Viale signalled the armoured cruisers of the 4th Division under Rear-Admiral Paolo Thaon di Revel to move ahead and engage it. Unsurprisingly, the destroyer rapidly withdrew and the Italian ships were fired on by Fort Ertogrul (Ertrogrul, Ertugrul), situated at Cape Helles on the the south-westernmost tip of the Gallipoli peninsula and Fort Orhaniye (Orchanie) on the Asian shore. These two positions commanded the approaches and entrance to the strait, though what ordnance they were equipped with is the subject of much disagreement. Probably the most authoritative source for the defences of the Turkish Straits is that provided by the British Lieutenant J K L Fitzwillams, who translated an article that had appeared in the Russian Artillery Journal for August 1912. The translation appeared in the Journal of the Royal Artillery in January 1913 and the January-June edition of the Journal of the United States Artillery in 1915. In between these times it was used extensively by Commodore William H. Beehler, U.S.N. (retired) for his 1913 history. According to Fitzwilliams, the coastal defence artillery were nearly all made by Krupp and ‘did not need to be of particularly long range.’ He stated that Fort Ertogrul and Fort Orhaniye were armed with eight and seven 238 mm guns respectively.32 Further forts and batteries were arranged over the whole length of the Dardanelles, but since they do not figure in the story they may be ignored for the moment. Indeed, the defences in general had been greatly boosted as an attack was expected. These measures included some 350 guns relocated from the forts on the Bosphorus, strengthened and improved minefields, and the deployment of some 40,000 troops in the Dardanelles district. Because of the dangers from the mines the passage of merchant ships at night was prohibited, and during the day all had to be navigated by pilots.
Undoubtedly aware of these hazards, Viale made no attempt to send any of his ships into the entrance and upon being fired upon he moved the fleet around to the western side of Cape Helles. At about 10:30 hours the heavy units began a bombardment of the forts on the Asiatic side of the strait, firing over the tip of the Gallipoli peninsula. Fire was returned with ‘great accuracy’ according to the Italian official account, but despite this no serious hits were recorded on any of the ships. In any event, the fleet did not venture any closer than about nine kilometres, which was at the outer range of the coastal artillery. This long-range duel continued until about 13:30 hours when, after discharging 180 shells, the fleet withdrew. Though claims and counter-claims about the amount of damage inflicted on both sides were made, there is little doubt that no significant injury was inflicted on either ships or defences.
It is difficult to see what military objective was served by this action. It is almost certainly the case that what had been originally contemplated by the Italians was an attack on the Ottoman fleet. This was anchored at Nagara Point (Nara Burnu, Abydos) some 30 kilometres north of the entrance and just above the narrows at Çanakkale. Indeed Giolitti claimed at the time that the Ottoman fleet was the objective, and in his memoirs revealed that the Italians had picked up a ‘secret agent’ at Stampalia who was to act as a pilot during any action in the Dardanelles.33 The presence of the Duke of Abruzzi’s command, the ‘Division of the Torpedo Boat Inspector,’ lends credence to this conclusion, though why the operation was not delayed when the weather proved too heavy for the torpedo boats to operate is something of a mystery. The objective may not have been military at all. Luigi Albertini, editor of the influential Milanese paper Corriere della Sera, posited that the operation was a feint, and mounted in order to distract attention from the Southern Sporades where Italy planned her next naval moves.34 Whatever the aim of the attack might have been it brought immediate political consequences when the Ottoman government proclaimed a blockade of the Dardanelles.
This caused instantaneous protests from the Austro-Hungarian, the British, and the Russian governments. On 19 April the Italian chargé d’affaires, Gaetano Manzoni, visited the Permanent Under Secretary for Foreign Affairs, Sir Arthur Nicolson, at the Foreign Office in London. He explained that the action the previous day had been caused when the Italian squadron, which had been cruising off the entrance to the Dardanelles in an effort to entice out the Ottoman fleet, had been fired on by the defences. Manzoni was told that Britain took the view that it was Italian actions that had compelled the closure of the Dardanelles, and that the Ottoman government could not be blamed. He reiterated that the blockade was a most serious matter for Britain and would cause much discontent. This was restated the next day to the Ottoman government by Sir Edward Grey, who telegraphed to the British Ambassador in Istanbul, Sir Gerard Lowther, pointing out that he recognised the rights of the Ottoman Government to ‘adopt such legitimate means of defence as they may consider necessary.’35
Also on 22 April Nicolson had a further meeting this time with the Italian Ambassador, Marquis Guglielmo Imperiali, and told him that the closure of the waterway was causing grave injury to British commercial and shipping interests. Around 150 merchant vessels manned by about 4,000 British personnel were being held up by the closure and it was costing the shipowners some £9,000 per day. When the Ambassador suggested that such protests would better be directed towards the Ottoman Government, Nicolson demurred. British policy, as he explained personally and as was stated publicly in Parliament by Viscount Morley the same day, was to express the ‘hope’ that, whilst the British recognised the right of the Ottoman Empire ‘to adopt measures of self-defence,’ they would nevertheless ‘open a passage through the straits to foreign commerce as soon as possible.’ Imperiali replied that he ‘trusted’ the Italian Government would not be asked for assurances that they would abstain from hostilities near the Straits. The answer came that whilst Britain did not wish to contemplate anything ‘disagreeable’ to Italy, there could be no pledges as to what measures the British might be compelled to take in the interests of maintaining their trade.36 Though these exchanges were couched in exquisite diplomatese, the Italians were left in absolutely no doubt that Britain blamed them for the whole affair.
Conversely, Russia held the Ottoman Government responsible. Count Alexander Benckendorf, the Russian Ambassador to Britain, informed Nicolson on 22 April, that ‘very strong pressure had been put upon the Russian Government to take strong measures for opening the Dardanelles, as their closure was causing the greatest injury to Russian commerce.’ A note had therefore been delivered in Istanbul to ‘the following effect:’
The Russian Government were unaware how the Turkish Government could reconcile the free passage of the Straits accorded to merchant vessels by Treaty with the present measures of closing the Straits. They, therefore, expressed the ‘firm hope’ that, as soon as the imminent danger of hostile attack had passed by, the Turkish Government would open the Straits to foreign commerce. Otherwise the Russian Government would have to consider the question of indemnities for the losses incurred.37
The Austro-Hungarian government, though not affected as directly as Britain and Russia, was at one with the former in respect of attributing blame. Called to explain, d’Avama argued that the action had been a demonstration to illustrate Italian naval superiority and freedom of action to the Ottoman Government. Berchtold expressed his displeasure and warned that if any similar operation were attempted in future, it would carry with it ‘grave consequences.’ This warning took place within the context of, as it was perceived by Berchtold, the rights conferred by the Triple Alliance treaty. He was later to reiterate his previously stated argument that although Austria-Hungary made representations in an ‘unequivocal manner’ this in no way hindered Italy’s actions: ‘We refused our expressed consent to actions, from which we apprehended dangerous consequences for the Balkans, and because we would not share the responsibility for these, but all we did, was to warn Italy with regard to the threatening consequences.’38 In any event, Giolitti himself had ensured that the ‘grave consequences’ would not come to pass when he ordered the fleet to suspend any further operations in the upper Aegean on the day that they took place.
Russia and Britain, though at odds in apportioning blame for the closure of the Dardanelles still had a shared interest in getting them reopened. The cargo aboard the stranded vessels consisted largely of Russian grain, which was essentially a perishable commodity. On 30 April with the strait still closed Grey telegraphed to Lowther instructing him to urge the Ottoman Government to open the Straits temporarily so that the detained ships could recommence their voyages.39 In order to support this initiative, Grey tasked Rodd with putting the point to San Guiliano that the reopening of the Dardanelles would be facilitated if the Italian Government would agree that the British could say to the Ottomans that there would be no further attacks there ‘for a reasonable period.’40 Giuliano was, as might have been expected, somewhat evasive. According to Rodd’s reply on 1 May, he had been told that because Russia had protested to the Ottomans about the closure, any such promise from Italy would have the effect of weakening the effect of those protests. Guiliani further argued that because Russia had shown ‘goodwill’ to Italy, it would be difficult for Italy to take any step until it was certain that the Russian protest had failed.41 This Russian ‘goodwill’ was further demonstrated when Sazanov refused entreaties to become involved in Grey’s ‘friendly representations’ to Rome; when Buchanan approached him on the matter he ‘absolutely declined’ to become involved. Upon being asked by the British Ambassador ‘what he hoped to gain by so assiduously courting Italy[?]’ Sazanov replied that he didn’t want ‘Italy to send, as she had undertaken to do, [an] Army Corps into Galicia, in the event of a Russo-German war.’ Buchanan added that ‘after a moment’s pause’ he then added that ‘she won’t do this now.’42
These exchanges illustrate a growing difference in political strategy between Britain and Russia. Grey wished above all to maintain the delicately poised equilibrium of Europe, more or less divided between the Alliance and Entente blocs. Hence he deprecated any attempts to detach Italy from its Alliance partners lest it disturb this equilibrium and precipitate a European conflict. Sazanov, given his policy of ‘assiduously courting’ Italy, was of a different opinion, and his remark to Buchanan indicates why. Which of the two views was the more accurate was not put to the test as it happened, for on 1 May the Ottoman Government indicated that the straits would indeed be reopened as soon as the mines were cleared. As long as the conflict lasted though, and because it had the potential to destabilise European politics, Grey considered it to be dangerous in the wider context.43
Italy for her part seemed ready to steer between the two blocs, and to push to the limit the constraints of Article VII of the treaty with Austria-Hungary. The decision to extend the war into the Eastern Mediterranean and Aegean required some careful consideration. As had become obvious, action at the Dardanelles caused international diplomatic ructions and any actions on the Anatolian mainland or in the Balkans were militarily and politically problematical to say the least. The Southern Sporades were then, almost by default, the only option and had been recognised and suggested as a suitable place for operations as far back as the 19 October 1911. On that occasion the army Chief of Staff, General Alberto Pollio, had raised the issue with his naval opposite number, Admiral Carlo Rocca Rey via a letter. They met on 9 November and agreed that if the navy intervened in the area, the army would also be required to participate although at that time no plans had been prepared. The chiefs agreed that the best way to proceed would be for the two services to reach agreement on the feasibility of occupying the islands and, if this were settled, only then would the proposal be put forward for political consideration. There could be no question of taking action unilaterally without careful deliberation of the political ramifications as Article VII of the Triple Alliance specified Austro-Italian pledges to maintain the status quo regarding Ottoman possessions in the Adriatic and Aegean Seas. Any modification was dependent upon previously agreed mutual consent, and promises of compensation between Austria-Hungary and Italy.44
Rocca Rey was to have doubts concerning the wisdom of carrying out any such operation, believing that the results would not be commensurate with the effort required and that it would likely cause an intervention by the Great Powers. Pollio, on the other hand, argued that taking the islands from the Ottoman Empire would be an effective military operation. Pollio’s superior, the Minister of War Paulo Spingardi, was also cautious arguing in a letter of 12 January 1912 that any action would require very careful consideration due to the possible political repercussions.45 In the immediate term, and in respect of Austria-Hungary, Italy had received a grudging acquiescence towards occupying the islands of Rhodes, Karpathos and Stampalia on a temporary basis. What prompted this concession was German pressure. San Giuliano’s constant theme in this context was based around how difficult it would be for Italy to remain a friend and ally of Austria-Hungary if it were perceived that the latter state was not acting in a friendly way. Rather, by attempting to prevent Italy from bringing the conflict with the Ottoman Empire to a close, Austria-Hungary was breaching the duties of neutrality in favour of Italy’s enemy. If it became known to public opinion in Italy that operations against the Ottomans were being hampered by Austria-Hungary, then the future of their alliance would be at stake.46 Since the maintenance and renewal of the Triple Alliance was a prime German foreign policy objective, Italy was able to continue to use the influence of the senior member as leverage. Accordingly, the German government brought strong pressure to bear to make the Austro-Hungarian foreign minister agree to Italian wishes, pointing out that any refusal ‘not merely complicated the renewal of the Triple Alliance (as Kiderlen said on 31 March 1912) but even risked its breaking up.’47 This ploy was successful.
Where such action might lead though was obviously unknowable, but given the failure of all previously attempted efforts, whether military, naval, or political, to force the Ottoman Empire to come to terms the politicians, when the option was put to them, decided that on balance the risk was worth taking. Rocca Rey remained unconvinced however, sending two ‘confidential and personal’ memoranda to Spingardi on 16 and 18 April 1912 in which he set out his doubts. The admiral pointed out that Rhodes, the main island of the archipelago, was only around 17 kilometres from the southern coast of Anatolia (Asia Minor), whilst the nearest Italian naval base was at Tobruk, over 1000 kilometres distant. He also cautioned that the Ottomans had a ‘fleet in being’ in the Dardanelles, near to their supply base and to dockyards (though also around a 1000 kilometres away). These vessels, should they be put into good order, could sortie and attack southward through the Aegean, necessitating the Italians keeping a squadron at least as strong permanently on station to repel any possible attack. This squadron would have to be constantly cruising in order to be effective, and would risk becoming worn out. Therefore it would have to be relieved regularly, and the deployment would then tie up two naval squadrons, a total of ten ships and forty torpedo boats. Furthermore, whilst the Ottoman vessels remained a threat Italian shipping to and from the area would have to be convoyed and escorted. Rocca Rey also argued that since Rhodes had no military or economic value, it was unlikely that the loss of it would force the enemy to make peace. Additionally, the Ottoman government would undoubtedly believe that Italian occupation could only be temporary, and that the island would return to being a possession of the Sultan in any event. The enterprise would therefore wear out the Italian fleet, be expensive, and only provide a diversion from the main theatre where all efforts should be concentrated.48 His protests fell on deaf ears; Giolitti and San Giuliano had decided ‘resolutely’ to go ahead, and on 23 April the Italian navy ‘occupied the island of Stampalia (Astipalea), set up our own naval base, and took prisoner the Turkish garrison.’49
Apart from extending the conflict into totally new areas, the Italian navy also had a significant part to play in the maintenance and extension of the occupation of Tripoli. Chief among these was the interdiction of the coastal route from Tunisia via which it was believed the Ottoman forces were receiving large amounts of supplies. This route began at Ben-Gardane on the Tunisian side of the frontier and then along the road to Zuwarah in Tripoli. Zuwarah is situated around 110 kilometres to the west of Tripoli City and about 60 kilometres from the border, and from there the supplies went on to Azizia. Zuwarah was also provided with an anchorage suitable for coastal shipping at least, and mahones, such as the Camouna and Gaulois involved in the incident of 25 January 1912, and other vessels were able to moor there and discharge their cargoes.
That there was much traffic through Zuwarah is beyond dispute, though whether it was all ‘contraband of war’ as the Italians claimed is uncertain. Ernest Bennett related how whilst crossing the border from east to west over the new-year period of 1911-12, he caught sight of an immense caravan of 1,240 camels laden with around 150 tonnes of flour travelling in the other direction. This caravan had been delayed at Ben-Gardane by the French authorities for 15 days before being allowed to proceed. The French, he argues, had for some time been acting ‘in a curiously erratic fashion as regards the passage over the frontier of food and necessaries.’50 Supplies such as he describes were not of course necessarily contraband of war unless they were destined for those engaged in fighting, and of course a large portion of the population of Tripoli could not be described thus. The Italians however made no distinction, and determined to at least gain control of the route, which the Ottomans, indicating that it was of considerable importance to them, made great efforts to prevent.
Previous attempts at interdiction had mainly been restricted to the naval bombardment of Zuwarah and surrounding areas, and a decision to attempt a landing there with a brigade of infantry in late December 1911 had to be abandoned due to the poor weather and the ‘energetic’ defence put up by the Ottoman defenders, as already related.51 By April 1912 the weather had settled enough for another attempt to be made, this time in much greater strength. The naval component comprised the ‘Training Division’ under Rear-Admiral Borea Ricci, with the obsolete, though still adequate for the task, battleships Re Umberto, Sicilia (flag) and Sardegna forming its core. The landing force consisted of the 5th Special Division under Lieutenant-General Vincenzo Garioni. One brigade, commanded by Major-General Clemente Lequio, was drawn from forces based in Tripoli City, the 11th Regiment of Bersaglieri plus an extra battalion (the 28th), two battalions of Grenadiers, and the 6th and 7th Eritrean Battalions. The other was under Major-General Alberto Cavaciocchi and mainly comprised the 60th Infantry Regiment, which sailed directly from Italy. There were also three batteries of artillery and a company of engineers.
The plan was much more sophisticated this time, demonstrating the respect that the Italians had for the Ottoman forces and the learning process attendant on the difficulties of amphibious warfare at that time. The Training Division, including the three battleships and the armoured cruisers Carlo Alberto and Marco Polo left the port of Tripoli with three transport ships on 8 April 1912. The three transports and the two armoured cruisers arrived off Zuwarah on 9 April and anchored some two kilometres offshore. The warships began a desultory bombardment of the town until nightfall, resuming with a much fiercer barrage the next morning. The resumption of the fire from the cruisers coincided with the approach of some twenty boats from the transports towards the landing beach. This was however all a feint to fix the attention of the Ottomans whilst the real landing took place some 40 kilometres to the west on the El Faru (Farwa, Farwah, Ra’s al Makhbaz, Macabez) peninsula. Running more or less parallel to the coast some three kilometres to the south, this small uninhabited spit of land is about twelve kilometres in length and about 1 kilometre at its broadest. During the night of 9-10 April seven transports, escorted by those warships not engaged at Zuwarah, with the vast majority of the 5th Division aboard (about 10,000 men) appeared off this peninsula and began landing advance parties of troops at around 03:00 hours. There was no sign of any opposition and so the the Italians secured the landing ground without difficulty. At daybreak the main body began to disembark and some four hours later, at about 12:00 hours, it was also safely ashore despite choppy conditions on the water.
Landings on the mainland opposite El Faru were undertaken on the morning of 11 April by a mixed force of marines and army troops. This operation was unopposed and by 12:00 hours large contingents had moved inland and the whole area had been secured with the occupation of Abu Kammash (Bu Kamez, Bu Kamech), a small Berber village on the shore just west of where the peninsula joins the mainland. The village featured a small and obsolete ‘Turkish Fort’ and this was occupied by a detachment of marines and Eritrean ascari. The first Ottoman forces did not appear on the scene until later in the day to find the Italians well dug in and covered by the guns of the fleet. By 12 April Garioni estimated that there were around 1,000 men in the dunes around Abu Kammash who kept up a constant sniping at the Italian positions and at the various boats working in the bay between the peninsula and mainland. The Ottoman positions were cleared by a flank attack carried out by Eritrean troops who moved off the peninsula during a sandstorm on the morning of 13 April and thus had the element of surprise. Once the dunes overlooking the bay had been cleared of the enemy they were incorporated into the Italian defences, which, given their great strength backed by the guns of the Training Division, made the whole area secure.
Abu Kammash. The Italians decided to occupy the small village of Abu Kammash in order to interdict the coastal route from Tunisia via which it was believed the Ottoman forces were receiving large amounts of supplies. This route began at Ben-Gardane on the Tunisian side of the frontier and then along the road to Zuwarah, which is situated around 110 kilometres to the west of Tripoli City and about 60 kilometres from the border. From there the supplies went on to Azizia. With total command of the sea, and having acquired expertise in the techniques of amphibious warfare, the landing was a sophisticated affair. With the defenders lured away via a ruse, landings on the mainland opposite the El Faru Peninsula were undertaken on the morning of 11 April 1912 by a mixed force of marines and army troops. This operation was unopposed and by 12:00 hours large contingents had moved inland and the whole area had been secured. The Ottoman forces could then only try and contain the invaders, and a good deal of the supplies were forced to take a less convenient route some 150 kilometres inland. (© Charles Blackwood).
Once again Italian naval supremacy had allowed Italian forces to descend upon the coast at a time and place of their own choosing in overwhelming force. The landing at El Faru and the occupation of Abu Kammash had an effect on the Ottoman supply situation. Because the road between Ben-Gardane and Zuwarah was now vulnerable, though not yet completely cut, a good deal of the contraband trade was forced to take a less convenient route some 150 kilometres inland. Further, with torpedo-boats able to use Abu Kammash as a temporary base – the bay was found to be deep enough for torpedo-boats to shelter in, and was utilised as their anchorage – the passage of contraband by sea to Zuwarah was also threatened, though not entirely stopped.