Chapter Twelve: The Emperor's Reward

Witnessing the splendor of the British fleet did not stir much emotion in Feng Chengqian. It was not because he had already seen British warships in Portsmouth, but rather because this was an era of transformation.

The modern navy had passed through the age of sail, the era of ironclads, and was now approaching the dreadnought age. The late nineteenth to early twentieth century marked the end of the ironclad era. Steam-powered ironclads had completely replaced sailing warships, only to soon be superseded by the far more formidable dreadnoughts.

The British fleet was, without question, powerful.

Yet to Feng Chengqian, in a little over a decade, this seemingly invincible fleet would be made obsolete by the relentless naval arms race.

Such strength, at this moment, meant little.

Whoever first seized upon the opportunities presented by military technological revolution would seize the advantage in the next great competition.

Reviewing the fleet was nothing more than Britain flaunting its might.

It was clear that Frederick III was deeply moved. For a mere island nation to become the greatest power on earth, possessing overseas colonies a hundred times the size of its homeland and ruling over hundreds of millions, the British Empire owed everything to this invincible fleet. Without it, Britain would have remained a minor country on the British Isles.

Queen Victoria’s carefully orchestrated arrangements had achieved their aim. Yet, having recognized the true strength of the British Empire, Frederick III was inspired to supplant it, and understood at last the importance of a powerful navy.

After reviewing the Royal Navy, Frederick III did not return to London but went directly aboard the Brandenburg. Compared to the massive ships of the Royal Navy, the Brandenburg and the accompanying Irena appeared minuscule.

This stark contrast left a profound impression on Frederick III once again.

It was easy to understand why, after ascending the throne, Crown Prince Wilhelm would devote himself so completely to building up the navy.

Any emperor, upon seeing the might of Britain's fleet, would surely feel the same: a powerful empire must possess a powerful navy.

The German Empire was no exception, nor was Tsarist Russia.

On the journey home, Frederick III often sought out Feng Chengqian, asking him about the navy and, in particular, about long-term naval planning.

Feng Chengqian did not attempt to persuade the emperor, but presented the facts.

A navy was unlike an army; one could not simply recruit men, hand them weapons, drill them for a few months, and thus create a fighting force. The navy’s strength rested on three pillars: doctrine, personnel, and warships.

Though Mahan was at that time merely superintendent of the U.S. Naval Academy and would not publish the first volume of his trilogy, The Influence of Sea Power upon History, 1660–1783, for another two years—and the subsequent volumes, The Influence of Sea Power upon the French Revolution and Empire, 1793–1812, and Sea Power in Its Relation to the War of 1812, would not be completed until around 1905—there were already numerous works on sea power, and Mahan himself had developed a relatively systematic understanding. More importantly, Feng Chengqian was well aware of the impact Mahan’s theories would have on history. Even if he had not been familiar with the trilogy, he still possessed the ability to influence and alter events.

As for personnel, even without Feng Chengqian, the German Empire did not lack outstanding officers and sailors.

From what Feng Chengqian knew of history, German naval officers and men surpassed their adversaries in skill, discipline, and morale.

The critical issue remained material resources—namely, warships.

Building warships was a test of a nation’s comprehensive power, centered on industry and technology.

The reality was harsh: as a rising industrial nation, the German Empire’s industrial capacity was not yet formidable, nor was its technology particularly advanced.

Feng Chengqian made himself clear—even if the Empire made every effort to catch up, it would take at least ten years before results became apparent.

Put simply, even if Frederick III devoted himself wholeheartedly to naval construction, it would require a decade just to lay a solid foundation.

As for the costs that so concerned Frederick III, they were astronomical.

Feng Chengqian did not expect the emperor to make an immediate decision; he merely hoped Frederick III would give the matter deep consideration and realize the significance of the navy as soon as possible.

Fortunately, Frederick III was not an indecisive monarch.

As the Brandenburg was about to enter Wilhelmshaven, Frederick III summoned Feng Chengqian once more.

“I’ve made up my mind. Upon my return, I’ll discuss it with the Chancellor,” Frederick III said, looking haggard from days of contemplation. “Perhaps I can’t meet all your expectations, but it will certainly be far better than the current situation. I’ll do my best for you, and I hope you won’t let me down.”

“What does Your Majesty hope for?”

“To have a powerful navy.”

Feng Chengqian smiled, leaving the statement unanswered.

Frederick III also smiled. “I don’t need a navy like the Queen’s—just one strong enough to rival hers, to serve its purpose when necessary.”

“So, Your Majesty seeks merely a ‘risk fleet’?”

“A risk fleet?”

Feng Chengqian froze, realizing he had let something slip.

In history as he knew it, it would be more than a decade before Admiral Tirpitz, greatly favored by the court, would articulate the “risk fleet” theory.

“Simply put, it’s a fleet formidable enough to make the enemy hesitate, preventing them from lightly going to war with the Empire.”

“Be more specific.”

After some thought, Feng Chengqian continued, “The security and interests of the British Empire depend upon its navy. If our fleet can inflict heavy losses on the Royal Navy in battle, even if we cannot replace Britain, we can deprive it of global supremacy and allow other great powers to take its place. As long as this risk exists, Britain will hesitate and refrain from making an enemy of us or going to war.”

“That’s only a hypothesis.”

“If Britain does go to war with us, we can force it to withdraw from the conflict through a decisive naval engagement, or at least prevent it from interfering in continental affairs.”

Frederick III nodded thoughtfully, as if grasping Feng Chengqian’s meaning.

“If this is the kind of fleet Your Majesty desires, it is not difficult to achieve.”

“Is that so?”

“The Royal Navy follows a ‘two-power standard,’ maintaining a fleet larger than the next two navies combined. Therefore, if the Imperial Navy reaches half, or slightly more than half, the size of the British Navy, that alone would force Britain to reconsider its basic policy and abandon confrontation with us,” Feng Chengqian said with a smile. “Even if Britain still chooses to oppose us, we would still have the chance to defeat them at sea.”

“If you were given ten percent of the army’s budget, could you accomplish this?”

“Well…”

“Of course, that’s only for starters. The allocation will increase year by year.”

Feng Chengqian pondered for a moment. “In that case, we’d need to re-plan the navy’s development—minimizing early expenditures and focusing resources later.”

“Why?”

“A technological revolution is imminent, and the service life of warships is rapidly decreasing. Those built today may be obsolete in a few years.”

“So, you mean to lay the groundwork first, then expand construction?”

Feng Chengqian nodded. “With limited funding, we must use our resources wisely. Since we cannot outpace Britain immediately, we must plan for the long term.”

“It seems that having your assistance is indeed a blessing for the Empire.”

“Your Majesty flatters me; I am only doing my duty.”

Frederick III nodded. “I received word a few days ago that the Qing Empire wishes to purchase arms from us. I have instructed the Chancellor to consider it carefully.”

“Your Majesty…”

“Though I do not know your origins, your surname makes clear your connection to the Qing Empire.”

“…”

“You needn’t tell me, nor will I ask. You have sworn a blood oath to me, and I trust you completely,” Frederick III said after a brief pause. “I also believe you serve the Empire with all your heart. But I am equally certain that, one day, you will leave.”

Feng Chengqian sighed inwardly; indeed, he had never intended to serve the German Empire forever.

“Consider this my favor to you,” Frederick III said with a smile. “Councillor Chen Jitong of the Qing is currently in Berlin. You may wish to meet him.”

“Chen Jitong?”

“He is the Qing’s minister to France and also serves as counsellor in Germany. I met him once, and we had an engaging conversation. But he is a proud man, and rather cynical,” Frederick III said, shaking his head with a smile. “To him, the Qing Empire remains mighty, and he always does as he pleases—a very distinctive character.”

“That is indeed rare.”

“Yes, there are certainly few like him in the Qing court.”

“Very well, I’ll meet him if I have the chance.”

“We’re almost there. Go and prepare yourself,” Frederick III said with a yawn. “Tomorrow evening, a council will be held to discuss the matters you raised with Salisbury. Don’t be late.”

Feng Chengqian nodded, understanding the Emperor’s intent.

At present, the most pressing matter was to implement the secret Anglo-German agreement against France and Russia.

Though this ought to have been the Chancellor’s responsibility, Feng Chengqian had first proposed the Baghdad Railway to the British Prime Minister, so there was no reason to exclude him.

By the time he returned to Berlin, it was already late at night.

Feng Chengqian had a quick supper on the road and intended to bathe and go straight to bed.

But before the attendants could prepare his hot water, a visitor arrived.

“Who would come to see me so late?”

“He only gave his name as Karl.”

“Karl?” Feng Chengqian felt a headache coming on. There were countless Karls in Germany.

“He said he’s here on behalf of Deutsche Bank and the Wurttemberg Bank.”

Feng Chengqian started in surprise, suddenly remembering that Karl was the public face of both banks in their advocacy for the Baghdad Railway.

“Count, shall we send him away?”

“No, no need. Show him in,” Feng Chengqian said, exhaling in relief.

The bankers’ instincts were indeed sharp—he had only mentioned the Baghdad Railway to Salisbury a few days before, and the news had already reached them.

Of course, this was hardly surprising—telegraphy had long since become commonplace; communication no longer depended on couriers.