CHAPTER VI

THE MEDITERRANEAN: A FAILURE AND ITS

CONSEQUENCES

War is made up of successes and failures. We English do not forget our successes, but we have an incorrigible habit of wiping from our minds the recollection of our failures. Which is a very bad habit, for as every man realises, during his half-blind stumbles through life, failure is a most necessary schoolmistress. Yet, though civilians seem able to bring themselves to forget that in war we ever fail of success, soldiers and sailors do not forget, and are always seeking to make of their admitted mistakes, stepping stones upon which they may rise to ultimate victory. On land one may retrieve errors more readily than at sea, for movements are much slower and evil results declare themselves less rapidly. I am now compelled to write of a failure at sea very early in the war, which was not retrieved, and which had a trail of most disastrous consequence; and I hope to do it without imputing blame to anyone, no blame, that is, except for the lack of imaginative vision, which is one of our most conspicuous defects as a race.

All of those who read me know that the blows which we have struck in France and Flanders, ever since the crowning victory of the Marne—that still unexplained miracle which saved western civilisation from ruin—are the direct consequence of the success in the North Sea of our mobilised fleets in August, 1914. But few know—or if they do, have pushed the knowledge testily from their minds—of a failure in the Mediterranean, also in August of 1914, a failure which at the time may have seemed of little account, yet out of which grew in inevitable melancholy sequence, a tragical train of troubles. Though we may choose to forget, Fate has a memory most damnably long. Nothing would be more unfair than to lay at the door of the Navy the blame for all the consequences of a failure which, it has been officially held, the officers on the spot did their utmost to avert. Men are only human after all, and the sea is a very big place. We need not censure anyone. Still, we should be most foolish and blind to the lessons of war if we did not now and then turn aside from the smug contemplation of our strategical and tactical victories, and seek in a humble spirit to gather instruction from a grievous pondering over the consequences of our defeats. And of this particular defeat of which I write the results have been gloomy beyond description—the sword in the balance which threw Turkey and Bulgaria into alliance with our enemies, and all the blood and the tears with which the soil of the Near East has been soaked.

When war broke out all our modern battleships were in the North Sea, but of our nine fast battle cruisers four were away. TheAustraliawas at the other side of the world, and theInflexible(flag),IndomitableandIndefatigablewere in the Mediterranean. We also had four armoured cruisers, and four light cruisers in the Mediterranean—the armouredDefence,Duke of Edinburgh,WarriorandBlack Prince, the light fastGloucesterof the new “Town” class, a sister of theGlasgowand theBristol, and three other similar cruisers. The Germans had in the Mediterranean the battle cruiserGoeben, as fast, though not so powerfully gunned, as the threeInflexiblesof ours. She carried ten 11-⁠inch guns, while our battle cruisers were each armed with eight 12-⁠inch guns. TheGoebenhad as her consort the light cruiserBreslau, one of the German Town class built in 1912, a newer and faster edition of the earlier Town cruisers which were under von Spee in the Pacific and Atlantic. She could have put up a good fight though probably an unsuccessful one against theGloucester, but was no match for theDefence, theWarrior, theBlack PrinceorDuke of Edinburgh. Our squadrons in the Mediterranean were, therefore, in fighting value fully three times as powerful as the German vessels. Our job was to catch them and to destroy them, but unfortunately we did not succeed in bringing them to action. The story of their evasion of us, and of what their escape involved is, to my mind, one of the most fascinating stories of the whole war.

War officially began between France and Germany upon August 3rd at 6.45 p.m. when the German Ambassador in Paris asked for his passports, and between Great Britain and Germany upon August 4th at 11 p.m., when our ultimatum in regard to Belgium was definitely rejected. But though then at war with Germany, England did not declare war on Austria until midnight of August 12th. A queer situation arose in the Mediterranean as the result of these gaps between the dates of active hostilities. Upon August 4th, the German cruisers could and did attack French territory without being attacked by us, and all through those fateful days of August 5th and 6th, when our three battle cruisers were hovering between Messina and the Adriatic and our four armoured cruisers were lying a little to the south off Syracuse, Italy was neutral, and Austria was not at war with us. Our naval commanders were in the highest degree anxious to do nothing which could in any way offend Italy—whose position as still a member of the Triple Alliance with Austria and Germany was delicate in the extreme—and were also anxious to commit no act of hostility towards Austria. Upon August 4th, therefore, their hands were tied tight; upon the 5th and 6th they were untied as against the German cruisers, but could not stretch into either Italian or Austrian waters. The German Admiral took full advantage of the freedom of movement allowed to him by our diplomatic bonds.

Let us now come to the story of the escape of the two German cruisers, indicate as clearly as may be how it occurred, and suggest how the worst consequences of that escape might have been retrieved by instant and spirited action on the part of our Government at home. Naval responsibility, as distinct from political responsibility, ended with the escape of theGoebenandBreslauand their entry into the Dardanelles on the way up to Constantinople which then, and for nearly three months afterwards, was nominally a neutral port.

On July 31st, 1914, theGoeben, a battle cruiser armed with ten 11-⁠inch guns, and with a full speed of twenty-eight to twenty-nine knots, was at Brindisi in the territorial waters of Italy, a country which was then regarded by the Germans as an ally. She was joined there on August 1st by theBreslau, a light cruiser of some three knots less speed than theGoebenand armed only with twelve 4.1-⁠inch guns. The German commanders had been warned of the imminence of hostilities with France—and, indeed, upon that day French territory had been violated by German covering troops, though war had not yet been declared. The French Fleet was far away to the west, already busied with the transport of troops from Algeria and Morocco to Marseilles. Based upon Malta and in touch with the French was the British heavy squadron of three battle cruisers. TheIndefatigable, a heavier and faster vessel than either of the sistersInflexibleorIndomitable, was certainly a match for theGoebenby herself; the three battle cruisers combined were of overpowering strength. Accompanying the battle cruisers was the armoured cruiser squadron—Black Prince,Duke of Edinburgh,WarriorandDefence—together with the light cruiserGloucester. The other light cruisers and the destroyer escort do not come directly into my picture. TheGloucester—which, as she showed later, had the heels of theBreslauthough not of the speedyGoeben—was despatched at once to the Adriatic to keep watch upon the movements of the Germans. So long as the Germans were in the Adriatic, the English Admiral, Sir Berkeley Milne, could do nothing to prevent their junction with the Austrians at Pola, but upon August 2nd, they both came out and went to Messina, and so uncovered the Straits of Otranto, which gave passage between Messina and the Adriatic. The English battle cruisers then steamed to the south and east of Sicily, bound for the Otranto Straits. Rear-Admiral Troubridge, in command of the English armoured cruisers, remained behind.

THE MEDITERRANEAN OPERATIONS.

Upon August 1st, the Italian Government had declared its intention to be neutral, and upon the 3rd the Italian authorities at Messina refused coal to the German ships, very much to the outspoken disgust and disappointment of the German Admiral who had reckoned Italy as at least passively benevolent. But being a man of resource, he filled his bunkers from those of German vessels in the harbour, and early in the morning of August 4th—having received news the previous evening that war had broken out with France, and was imminent with England—dashed at the Algerian coast and bombarded Phillippeville and Bona, whence troops had been arranged to sail for France. When one reflects upon the position of Admiral Souchon, within easy striking distance of three English battle cruisers, which at any moment might have been transformed by wireless orders into enemies of overwhelming power, this dash upon Phillippeville and Bona was an exploit which would merit an honourable mention upon any navy’s records. Souchon did, in the time available to him, all the damage that he could to his enemy’s arrangements, and then sped back to Messina, passing on the way theInflexible(flag),Indomitable, andGloucester, which had thus got into close touch with the Germans, though they were not yet free to go for them. The enterprising Souchon had cut his time rather fine, and come near the edge of destruction; for though at the moment of passing theInflexibleandIndomitableEngland was still at peace with Germany, war was declared before he reached the neutral refuge of Messina on August 5th. Milne’s hands were thus tied at the critical moment when he had both the elusive German cruisers under the muzzles of his hungry guns.

At Messina theGoebenandBreslauwere again refused coal, and were ordered to be clear of the port within twenty-four hours. Italy was resolutely neutral; it was a severe blow. Upon the night of August 4th-5th had come another blow—a wireless message, picked up at sea, that England had declared war. The position of the Germans now appeared to be desperate, more so to them than even to us, for Admiral Souchon had already been warned by the Austrians not to attempt the passage of the Straits of Otranto, and had also received direct orders at Messina from Berlin to make a break eastwards for Constantinople. His prospects of eluding our Squadrons and of reaching the Dardanelles must have seemed to him of the smallest. It is of interest to note, as revealing the hardy quality of Admiral Souchon, that these orders from Berlin reached him at midnight upon August 3rd before he made his raid upon Phillippeville and Bona. He might have steamed off at once towards the east in comparative security, for England was not yet at war and our battle cruisers were not yet waiting upon his doorstep. But instead of seeking safety in flight he struck a shrewd blow for his country and set back the hour of his departure for the east by three whole days. He sent off a wireless message to Greece asking that coal might be got ready for his ships near an inconspicuous island in the Ægean. Admiral Souchon may personally be a frightful Hun—I don’t know, I have never met him—but, I confess that, as a sailor, he appeals to me very strongly. In resource, in cool decision, and in dashing leadership he was the unquestioned superior of the English Admirals, whose job it was to get the better of him.

Upon August 6th, a day big with fate for us and for South Eastern Europe, theGoebenandBreslauwere at Messina with steam up. They had again obtained coal from compatriot ships and could snap their fingers at Italian neutrality. Watching them was the light cruiserGloucester, which was no match at all for theGoeben, and strung out to the north-east, guarding the passage from Messina to the Adriatic, were the three English battle cruisersInflexible,IndomitableandIndefatigable. The English armoured cruisers,Black Prince,Duke of Edinburgh,DefenceandWarrior, were cruising to the South of Syracuse. It is not contended that these four vessels could not have been off Messina, and could not have met and fought Souchon, when at last he issued forth. The contention is—and since it has been accepted by the Admiralty as sound, one is compelled humbly to say little—that none of these cruisers was sufficiently armed or armoured to risk action with a battle cruiser of theGoeben’sclass. It is urged that if Milne had ordered the armoured cruiser squadron to fight theGoeben, their Admiral, Troubridge, might have anticipated the fate of Cradock three months later at Coronel. Not one of them had a speed approaching that of theGoeben, and their twenty-two heavy guns were of 9.2-⁠inch calibre as opposed to the ten 11-⁠inch guns of the Germans. That they would have suffered serious loss is beyond doubt; but might they not, while dying, have damaged and delayed theGoebenfor a sufficient time to allow the twoInflexiblesand theIndefatigableto come down and gobble her up? It is not for a layman to offer any opinion upon these high naval matters. But ever since the action was not fought, and theGoebenandBreslauescaped, whenever two or three naval officers are gathered together and the subject is discussed, the vote is always thrown upon the side of fighting. The Soul of the Navy revolts at the thought that its business is to play for safety when great risks boldly faced may yield great fruits of victory.

The dispositions of the English Admiral were designed to meet one contingency only—an attempt by the Germans to pass the Straits of Otranto and to join the Austrians; he had evidently no suspicion that they had been ordered to Constantinople and took no steps to bar their way to the east. The handling of his two ships by Admiral Souchon was masterly. Until the latest minute he masked his intentions and completely outmanœuvred his powerful English opponents. Issuing from Messina on the afternoon of August 6th, he made towards the north-east as if about to hazard the passage to the Adriatic, and the smallGloucester, which most gallantly kept touch with far superior forces—she was some two knots slower than theGoeben, though rather faster than theBreslau—fell back before him and called up the battle cruisers on her wireless. Souchon did not attempt to interfere with theGloucester, for she was doing exactly what he desired of her. He kept upon his course to the north-east until darkness came down, and then swinging suddenly eight points to starboard, pointed straight for Cape Matapan far off to the south-east and called for full speed. Then and then only he gave the order to jam theGloucester’swireless.

He did not wholly succeed, theGloucester’swarning of his change of route got through to the battle cruisers, but they were too far away to interpose their bulky veto on the German plans. For two hours the German ships travelled at full speed, theGoebenleading, and behind them trailed the gallantGloucester, though she had nothing bigger in her armoury than two 6-⁠inch guns, and could have been sunk by a single shell from theGoeben’sbatteries. Twice she overhauled theBreslauand fired upon her, and twice theGoebenhad to fall back to the aid of her consort and drive away the persistent English captain. The gallantry of theGloucesteralone redeems the event from being a bitter English humiliation. All the while she was vainly pursuing the German vessels theGloucestercontinued her calls for help. They got through, but theGoebenandBreslauhad seized too long a start. They were clear away for the Dardanelles and Constantinople, and were safe from effective pursuit.

Vice-Admiral Souchon knew his Greeks and his Turks better than we did. He coaled his ships at the small island of Denusa in the Cyclades with the direct connivance of King Constantine, who had arranged for coal to be sent over from Syra, and ignored a formal message from the Sublime Porte forbidding him to pass the Dardanelles. He was confident that the Turks, still anxious to sit upon the fence until the safer side were disclosed, would not dare to fire upon him, and he was justified in his confidence. He steamed through the Narrows unmolested and anchored before Constantinople. There a telegram was handed to him from the Kaiser: “His Majesty sends you his acknowledgments.” One must allow that the Imperial congratulations were worthily bestowed. Souchon had done for Germany a greater service than had any of her generals or admirals or diplomats; he had definitely committed Turkey to the side of the Central Powers.

If of all words of tongue and penThe saddest are “It might have been,”More sad are these we daily see,“It is, but hadn’t ought to be.”—Bret Harte.

If of all words of tongue and pen

The saddest are “It might have been,”

More sad are these we daily see,

“It is, but hadn’t ought to be.”

—Bret Harte.

For the escape of theGoebenandBreslau, the Royal Navy was responsible, but for the consequences which grew out of that escape the responsibility rests uponLa haute Politiqueat home. The naval failure might have been retrieved within forty-eight hours had our Foreign Office understood the hesitating Turkish mind, and had realised that Souchon’s breach of the Dardanelles Convention—which bars the Straits to foreign warships—had brought to us a Heaven-sent opportunity to cut the bonds of gold and intrigue which bound the Turkish Government to that of Germany. Every Englishman in Constantinople expected that a pursuing English squadron of overwhelming power would immediately appear off the Turkish capital and insist upon the surrender or destruction of the German trespassers. Just as Souchon had passed the Dardanelles unmolested, so Milne with his three battle cruisers—had orders been sent to him—might have passed them on the day following. The Turks own no argument but force, and the greater force would have appeared to them to be the better argument. Milne, had he been permitted by the British Foreign Office, could have followed theGoebenandBreslauto Constantinople and sunk them there before the eyes of the world. Had he done so, the history of the war would have been very different. Upon the Cabinet at home must rest the eternal responsibility for not seeing and not seizing the finest and least hazardous opportunity that has been offered to us of determining by one bold stroke the course of the war. The three English battle cruisers could not have seized Constantinople any more effectively than the English Squadron, without military co-operation, could have seized it seven months later had it succeeded in forcing with its guns the passage of the Narrows. But they could have revealed to the vacillating Turks, as in a lightning flash, that the Allies had the wit to see, and the boldness to grasp the vital opportunities offered by war. But our Government had neither the wit nor the courage, the wonderful chance was allowed to slip by unused, and the costliest failure of the war was consummated in all its tragic fullness.

All through August and September and right up to the moment when, late in October, Turkey was forced into the war by German pressure, our Foreign Office hugged the belief—God alone knows how acquired—that diplomatic pressure at Constantinople could counteract the display of successful force embodied in the frowning guns of theGoebenand theBreslau. In the eyes of a non-maritime people two modern warships within easy gunshot of their chief city are of more pressing consequence than the Grand Fleet far away. Our Government accepted gladly the preposterous story that these German ships had been purchased by the Turks—with German money—and had been taken over by Turkish officers and crews. It is pitiful to read now the official statement issued on August 15th, 1914, through the newly formed Press Bureau: “The Press Bureau states that there is no reason to doubt that the Turkish Government is about to replace the German officers and crews of theGoebenandBreslauby Turkish officers and crews.” As evidence of Oriental good faith a photograph of theGoebenflying the Turkish naval flag was kindly supplied for publication in English newspapers. What could be more convincing? Then, when the moment was ripe and there was no more need for the verisimilitude of photographs, came the rough awakening, announced as follows:

“On October 29th,without notice and without anything to show that such action was pending, three Turkish torpedo craft appeared suddenly before Odessa. . . . The same day the cruisersBreslauandHamidiehbombarded several commercial ports in the Black Sea, including Novorossisk and Theodosia. In the forenoon of October 30th, theGoebenbombarded Sevastopol without causing any serious damage. By way of reprisals the Franco-British squadron in the Eastern Mediterranean carried out a demonstration against the forts at the entrance to the Dardanelles at daybreak on November 3rd.”

No comment which I might make could bite more deeply than the bald quotation describing this irruption of Turkey as “without motive and without anything to show that such action was pending.”Caeci sunt oculi cum animus alias res agit—The eyes are blind when the mind is obsessed.

CHAPTER VII

IN THE SOUTH SEAS: THE DISASTER OFF CORONEL

Sunset and evening star* * * *And after that the dark.

Sunset and evening star

* * * *

And after that the dark.

During the years 1912 and 1913 the Captain of the British cruiserMonmouth, the senior English Naval Officer on the China Station, and Admiral Count von Spee, commanding the German Far-Eastern Squadron, were close and intimate friends.

The intimacy of the chiefs extended to the officers and men of the two squadrons. The English and Germans discussed with one another the chances of war between their nations, and wished one another the best of luck when the scrap came. The German Squadron, which has since been destroyed, was like no other in the Kaiser’s Navy. It was commanded by professional officers and manned by long-service ratings. It had taken for its model the English Navy, and it had absorbed much of the English naval spirit. Count von Spee, though a Prussian Junker, was a gentleman, and with Captain von Müller, who afterwards made the name of theEmdenimmortal, was worthy to serve under the White Ensign. Let us always be just to those of our foes who, though they fight with us terribly, yet remain our chivalrous friends. I will tell a pretty story which will illustrate the spirit of comradeship which existed between the English and German squadrons during those two years before the war.

In December 1912 theMonmouthwas cruising in the Gulf of Pechili, which resembles a long flask with a narrow bottle neck. Admiral von Spee, who was lying with his powerful squadron off Chifu, in the neck of the bottle, received word from a correspondent that the second Balkan War had brought England and Germany within a short distance of “Der Tag.” Von Spee and his officers did not clink glasses to “The Day”; they were professionals who knew the English Navy and its incomparable power; they left silly boastings to civilians and to their colleagues of Kiel who had not eaten of English salt. Count von Spee thought first of his English friend who, in his elderly cruiser, was away up in the Gulf at the mercy of the German Squadron, which was as a cork in its neck. He at once dispatched a destroyer to find theMonmouth’scaptain and to warn him that though there might be nothing in the news it were better for him to get clear of the Gulf. “There may be nothing in the yarn,” he wrote, “I have had many scares before. But it would be well if you got out of the Gulf. I should be most sorry to have to sink you.” When the destroyer came up with theMonmouthshe had returned to Wei-hai-wei, and the message was delivered. Her skipper laughed, and sent an answer somewhat as follows: “My dear von Spee, thank you very much. I am here.J’y suis, J’y reste.I shall expect you and your guns at breakfast to-morrow morning.” War did not come then; when von Spee did meet and sink theMonmouthshe had another captain in command, but the story remains as evidence of the chivalrous naval spirit of the gallant and skilful von Spee.

In November 1913 theMonmouthleft the China Station, and before she went, upon November 6th, her crew were entertained sumptuously by von Spee and von Müller. She was paid off in January 1914, after reaching home, but was recommissioned in the following July for the test mobilisation, which at the moment meant so much, and which a few weeks later was to mean so much more. When the war broke out, theMonmouth, with her new officers and men, half of whom were naval reservists, was sent back to the Pacific. The armoured cruiserGood Hope, also commissioned in July, was sent with her, and the old battleshipCanopuswas despatched a little later. Details of the movements of these and of other of our warships in the South Atlantic and Pacific are given in the chapters entitled “The Cruise of theGlasgow.” TheGlasgowhad been in the South Atlantic at the outbreak of war, and was joined there by theGood HopeandMonmouth.

Meanwhile war had broken out, and we will for a few moments consider what resulted. TheEmden, Captain von Müller, was at the German base of Tsing-tau, but Admiral von Spee, with the armoured cruisersScharnhorstandGneisenau, was among the German Caroline Islands far to the south of the China Sea. TheDresdenwas in the West Indies and theLeipzigandNürnbergon the West Coast of Mexico (the Pacific side). The Japanese Fleet undertook to keep von Spee out of China waters to the north, and the Australian Unit—which then was at full strength and included the battle cruiserAustraliawith her eight 12-⁠inch guns and the light cruisersMelbourneandSydney, each armed with eight sixes—made themselves responsible for the Australian end of the big sea area. TheEmden, disguised as an English cruiser, with four funnels—the dummy one made of canvas—got out of Tsing-tau under the noses of the Japanese watchers, made off towards the Indian Ocean, and pursued that lively and solitary career which came to its appointed end at the Cocos-Keeling Islands, as will be described fully later on in this book. The Australian Unit, burning with zeal to fire its maiden guns at a substantial enemy, sought diligently for von Spee and requisitioned the assistance of the French armoured cruiserMontcalm, an old slow and not very useful vessel which happened to be available for the hunt. Von Spee was discovered in his island retreat and pursued as far as Fiji, but the long arm of the English Admiralty then interposed and upset the merry game. We were short of battle cruisers where we wanted them most—in the North Sea—so theAustraliawas summoned home and the remaining ships of the Unit, no longer by themselves a match for von Spee, were ordered back to Sydney in deep disgust. “A little more,” declared the bold Australians, who under their English professional officers had been hammered into a real Naval Unit, “and we would have done the work which theInvincibleandInflexiblehad to do later. If we had been left alone there would not have been any disaster off Coronel.” While one can sympathise with complaints such as this from eager fire-eaters, one has to accept their assertions with due caution. The German High Seas Fleet was at that time a more important objective than even von Spee. So theAustraliasailed for England to join up with the Grand Fleet, and von Spee had rest for several weeks. He was not very enterprising. Commerce hunting did not much appeal to him, though his light cruisers, theDresdenandLeipzig, did some little work in that line when on their way to join their Chief at Easter Island where the squadron ultimately concentrated. On the way across, von Spee visited Samoa, from which we had torn down the German flag, but did no damage there. On September 22nd, he bombarded Tahiti, in the Society Islands, a foolish proceeding of which he repented later on when the Coronel action left him short of shell with no means of replenishment. For eight days he stayed in the Marquesas Islands taking in provisions, thence he went to Easter Island and Masafuera, and so to Valparaiso, where the Chilean Government, though neutral, was not unbenevolent. He was for three weeks at Easter Island (Chilean territory), coaling from German ships there, and in this remote spot—a sort of Chilean St. Kilda—remained hidden both from the Chilean authorities and from our South Atlantic Squadron.

We must now return to the British Squadron which had been sent out to deal with von Spee as best it might. Cradock with such a squadron, all, except the light cruiserGlasgow, old and slow, had no means of bringing von Spee to action under conditions favourable to himself, or of refusing action when conditions were adverse. Von Spee, with his concentrated homogeneous squadron, all comparatively new and well-armed cruisers, all of about the same speed of twenty-one or twenty-two knots, all trained to a hair by constant work during a three years’ commission, had under his hand an engine of war perfect of its kind. He could be sure of getting the utmost out of co-operative efforts. The most powerful in guns of the English vessels was the battleshipCanopus, which, when the action off Coronel was fought, was 200 miles away to the south. She bore four 12-⁠inch guns in barbettes—in addition to twelve sixes—but she was fourteen years old and could not raise more than about thirteen to fourteen knots except for an occasional burst. Any one of von Spee’s ships, with 50 per cent. more speed, could have made rings round her. Had Cradock waited for theCanopus,—as he was implored to do by her captain, Grant,—and set the speed of his squadron by hers, von Spee could have fought him or evaded him exactly as he pleased. “If the English had kept their forces together,” wrote von Spee after Coronel, “then we should certainly have got the worst of it.” This was the modest judgment of a brave man, but it is scarcely true. If the English had kept their forces together von Spee need never have fought; they would have had not the smallest chance of getting near him except by his own wish. Admiral Cradock flew his flag in the armoured cruiserGood Hope, which, though of 14,000 tons and 520 feet long, had only two guns of bigger calibre than 6-⁠inch. These were of 9.2 inches, throwing a shell of 380 lb., but the guns, like the ship, were twelve years old. Her speed was about seventeen knots, four or five knots less than that of the German cruisers she had come to chase! TheMonmouth, of the “County Class,” was as obsolete as theGood Hope. Eleven years old, of nearly 10,000 tons, she carried nothing better than fourteen 6-⁠inch guns of bygone pattern. She may have been good for a knot or two more than theGood Hope, but her cruising and fighting speed was, of course, that of the flagship.

The one effective ship of the whole squadron was theGlasgow, which curiously enough is the sole survivor now of the Coronel action, either German or English. Out of the eight warships which fought there off the Chilean coast on November 1st, 1914, five German and three English, theGlasgowalone remains afloat. She is a modern light cruiser, first commissioned in 1911. TheGlasgowis light, long and lean. She showed that she could steam fully twenty-five knots and could fight her two 6-⁠inch and ten 4-⁠inch guns most effectively. She was a match for any one of von Spee’s light cruisers, though unable to stand up to theScharnhorstorGneisenau. The modern English navy has been built under the modern doctrine of speed and gun-power—theGood Hope,Monmouth, andCanopus, the products of a bad, stupid era in naval shipbuilding, had neither speed nor gun-power. The result, the inevitable result, was the disaster of Coronel in which the English ships were completely defeated and the Germans barely scratched. The Germans had learned the lesson which we ourselves had taught them.

When one considers the two squadrons which met and fought off Coronel, in the light of experience cast by war, one feels no surprise that the action was over in fifty-two minutes. Cradock and his men, 1,600 of them, fought and died.

Sunset and evening star* * * * *And after that the dark.

Sunset and evening star

* * * * *

And after that the dark.

TheGlasgowwould also have been lost had she not been a new ship with speed and commanded by a man with the moral courage to use it in order to preserve his vessel and her crew for the further service of their country. Von Spee, who had the mastery of manœuvre, brought Cradock to action when and how he pleased, and emphasised for the hundredth time in naval warfare that speed and striking power and squadron training will win victory certainly, inevitably, and almost without hurt to the victors. Like the Falkland Islands action of five weeks afterwards, that off Coronel was a gun action. No torpedoes were used on either side. Probably it was one of the last purely gun actions which will be fought in our time.

At the end of October the British and German squadrons were near to one another, though until they actually met off Coronel the British commanders did not know that the concentrated German Squadron was off the Chilean coast. Von Spee knew that an old pre-Dreadnought battleship had come out from England, though he was not sure of her class. He judged her speed to be higher than that of theCanopus, which, though powerfully armed, was so lame a duck that she would have been more of a hindrance than a help had Cradock joined up with her. Von Spee had an immense advantage in the greater handiness and cohesiveness of his ships. TheScharnhorstandGneisenauwere sisters, completed in 1907, and alike in all respects. Their shooting records were first-class; they were indeed the crack gunnery ships under the German ensign. Their sixteen 8.2-⁠inch guns—eight each—fired shells of 275 lb. weight, nearly three times the weight of the 100-⁠lb. shells fired from the 6-⁠inch guns which formed the chief batteries of their opponents theGood HopeandMonmouth. They were three months out of dock but they could still steam, as they showed at Coronel, at over twenty knots in a heavy sea. The light cruisersDresden,LeipzigandNürnbergwere not identical though very nearly alike. Their armament was the same—ten 4.1-⁠inch guns apiece—and their speed nearly the same. TheDresdenwas the fastest as she was the newest, a sister of the famousEmden. None of the German light cruisers was so fast or so powerful as theGlasgow, but together they were much more than a match for her, just as theScharnhorstandGneisenautogether were more than a match for theGood HopeandMonmouth. When, therefore, von Spee found himself opposed to the British armoured cruisers he was under no anxiety; he had the heels of them and the guns of them; they could neither fight successfully with him nor escape from him. The speedyGlasgowmight escape—as in fact she did—but theGood Hopeand theMonmouthwere doomed from the moment when the action was joined.

I have dwelt upon the characteristics of the rival squadrons at the risk of being wearisome since an understanding of their qualities is essential to an understanding of the action.

On October 31st, theGlasgowput into Coronel, a small coaling port near Concepcion and to the south of Valparaiso, which had become von Spee’s unofficial base. He did not remain in territorial waters for more than twenty-four hours at a time, but he got what he liked from German ships in the harbour. TheGlasgowkept in wireless touch with theGood HopeandMonmouth, which were some fifty miles out at sea to the west, and von Spee picked up enough from the English wireless to know that one of our cruisers was at Coronel. At once he despatched theNürnbergto shadow theGlasgow, to stroll as it were unostentatiously past the little harbour, while he with the rest of the squadron stayed out of sight to the north. In the morning of November 1st out came theGlasgowand made for the rendezvous where she was to join the other cruisers and theOtranto, an armed liner by which they were accompanied. The wireless signals passing between the watchingNürnbergand von Spee were in their turn picked up by theGood Hope, so that each squadron then knew that an enemy was not far off. Cradock, an English seaman of the fighting type, determined to seek out the Germans, though he must have suspected their superiority of force. Neither side actually knew the strength of the other. Cradock spread out his vessels fan-wise in the early afternoon and ordered them to steam in this fashion at fifteen knots to the north-east.

THE SOUTH SEAS.

At twenty minutes past four the nearest ships on either side began to sight one another, and until they did so Cradock had no knowledge that he had knocked up against the whole of the German Pacific Squadron. The German concentration had been effected secretly and most successfully. When theScharnhorst, von Spee’s flagship, first saw theGlasgowandMonmouththey were far off to the west-south-west and had to wait for more than half an hour until theGood Hope, which was still farther out to the west, could join hands with them. Meanwhile the German ships, which were also spread out, had concentrated on theScharnhorst. They were theGneisenau,Dresden, andLeipzig, for theNürnberghad not returned from her watching duties. Cradock, who saw at once that the Germans were getting between his ships and the Chilean coast, and that he would be at a grave disadvantage by being silhouetted against the western sky, tried to work in towards the land. But von Spee, grasping his enemy’s purpose, set theScharnhorstandGneisenaugoing at twenty knots due south against a heavy sea and forced himself between Cradock and the coast. When the two light cruisers drew up, the four German ships fell into line parallel with the English cruisers and between them and the land. All these preliminary manœuvres were put through while the two squadrons were still twelve miles apart, and they determined the issue of the subsequent action. For von Spee, having thrust the English against the background of the declining sun and being able, with his greater speed, to hold them in this position and to decide absolutely the moment when the firing should begin, had effectively won the action before a shot had been fired. So long as the sun was above the horizon the German ships were lighted up and would have made admirable marks could Cradock have got within range. But von Spee had no intention of letting him get within range until the sun had actually set and had ceased to give light to Cradock’s gunners. His own men for an hour afterwards could see the English ships standing out as clearly as black paper outlines stuck upon a yellow canvas screen. “I had manœuvred,” wrote von Spee to a friend, on the day following the action, “so that the sun in the west could not disturb me. . . . When we were about five miles off I ordered the firing to commence. The battle had begun, and with a few changes, of course, I led the line quite calmly.” He might well be calm. The greater speed of his squadron had enabled him to outmanœuvre the English ships, and to wait until the sunset gave him a perfect mark and the English no mark at all. He might well be calm. Darkness everywhere, except in the western sky behind Cradock’s ships, came down very quickly, the nearly full moon was not yet up, the night was fine except for scuds of rain at intervals. Between seven and eight o’clock—between sunset and moonrise—von Spee had a full hour in which to do his work, and he made the fullest use of the time. At three minutes past seven he began to fire, when the range was between five and six miles, and he hit theGood Hopeat the second salvo. His consort theGneisenaudid the same with theMonmouth. It was fine shooting, but not extraordinary, for the German cruisers were crack ships and the marks were perfect. At the third salvo both theGood HopeandMonmouthburst into flames forrard, and remained on fire, for German shell rained on them continually. They could rarely see to reply and never replied effectively. TheGood Hope’slower deck guns were smothered by the sea and were, for all practical purposes, out of action. Yet they fought as best they could. Von Spee slowly closed in and the torrent of heavy shell became more and more bitter. We have no record of the action from theGood HopeandMonmouth, for not a man was saved from either ship. TheGlasgow, which, after theOtrantohad properly made off early in the action—she was not built for hot naval work—had both theDresdenand theLeipzigto look after, could tell only of her own experiences. Captain Luce in quiet sea service fashion has brought home to us what they were. “Though it was most trying to receive a great volume of fire without a chance of returning it adequately, all kept perfectly cool, there was no wild firing, and discipline was the same as at battle practice. When a target ceased to be visible gun-layers simultaneously ceased fire.” Yet the crews of active ratings and reservists struggled gamely to the end. It came swiftly and mercifully.

We have detailed accounts of the action from the German side, of which the best was written by von Spee himself on the following day. There is nothing of boasting or vainglory about his simple story: though the man was German he seems to have been white all through. I have heard much of him from those who knew him intimately, and willingly accept his narrative as a plain statement of fact. Given the conditions, the speed and powers of the opposing squadrons, the skilful preliminary manœuvres of von Spee before a shot was fired, and the veil of darkness which hid the German ships from the luckless English gunners, the result, as von Spee reveals it, was inevitable. He held his fire until after sunset, and then closing in to about 10,000 yards—a little over five miles—gave the order to begin. He himself led the line in theScharnhorstand engaged theGood Hope, theGneisenaufollowing him took theMonmouthas her opposite number. TheLeipzigengaged theGlasgow, and theDresdentheOtranto. The shell from the 8.2-⁠inch batteries of the German armoured cruisers—each could use six guns on a broadside—got home at the second salvo and the range was kept without apparent difficulty. The fires which almost immediately broke out in theGood HopeandMonmouthgave much aid to the German gunners, who, when the quick darkness of the southern night came down, were spared the use of their searchlights. “As the two big enemy ships were in flames,” writes one careful German observer, “we were able to economise our searchlights.” Then, closing in to about 5,000 yards, von Spee poured in a terrific fire so rapid and sustained that he shot away nearly half his ammunition. After fifty-two minutes from the firing of the first shell theGood Hopeblew up. “She looked,” wrote von Spee, “like a splendid firework display against a dark sky. The glowing white flames, mingled with bright green stars, shot up to a great height.” Cradock’s flagship then sank, though von Spee thought for long afterwards that she was still afloat. TheOtrantohad made her escape, but theMonmouth, which could not get away, and theGlasgow—which at any moment could have shown the enemy her heels—still continued the unequal fight. The night had become quite dark, the flames in theMonmouthhad burned out or been extinguished, and the Germans had lost sight of their prey. TheScharnhorstandGneisenauworked round to the south, and theLeipzigandDresdenwere sent curving to the north and west, in order to keep the English ships away from the shelter of the land. Just then the light cruiserNürnberg, which had been sent upon the scouting expedition of which I have told, arrived upon the scene of action and encountered the crippledMonmouth. Had the English cruiser been undamaged, she could soon have disposed of this new combatant, but she was listing heavily and unable to use her guns. Running up close theNürnbergpoured in a broadside which sent theMonmouthto the bottom. TheGlasgow, badly damaged above water, but still full of speed and mettle, could do no more. The big German cruisers were coming up. Her captain took the only possible course. Shortly before the strickenMonmouthdisappeared under the waves he made off at full speed.

No one was picked up, either from theGood Hopeor theMonmouth. Von Spee, who was not the man to neglect the rescue of his drowning enemies, gives an explanation. He was far from theGood Hopewhen she blew up, but theNürnbergwas quite close to the founderingMonmouth; why was no attempt made at rescue in her case at least? It was dark and there was a heavy sea running, but the risks of a rescue are not sufficient to excuse the absence of any attempt. TheNürnberghad not been in the main action, she was flying up, knowing nothing of what had occurred, when she met and sank theMonmouth. Her captain saw other big ships approaching and thought that one of them was theGood Hope. This is von Spee’s excuse for the omission of his subordinate to put out boats—or even life lines—but one suspects that the captain of theNürnberghad a bad quarter of an hour when next he met his chief.

The German squadron was undamaged, scarcely touched. Three men were wounded by splinters in theGneisenau. That is the whole casualty list. One 6-⁠inch shell went through the deck of theScharnhorstbut did not explode—the “creature just lay down” and went to sleep. “It lay there,” writes von Spee, “as a kind of greeting.” The light German cruisers were not touched at all. But though the German squadron had come through the fight unharmed, it had ceased to be of much account in a future battle. The silly bombardment of Tahiti, and the action off Coronel, had so depleted the once overflowing magazines that not half the proper number of rounds were left for the heavy guns. No fresh supplies could be obtained. Von Spee could fight again, but he could not have won again had he been opposed to much lighter metal than that which overwhelmed him a few weeks later off the Falkland Islands.

On the second day after the action von Spee returned to Valparaiso. Though his own ship had fought with theGood Hopeand he had seen her blow up he did not know for certain what had become of her. This well illustrates the small value of observers’ estimates of damage done to opponents during the confusion of even the simplest of naval fights. Distances are so great and light is so variable. The destruction of theMonmouthwas known, but not that of theGood Hope. So von Spee made for Valparaiso to find out if the English flagship had sought shelter there. Incidentally he took with him the first news of his victory, and the large German colony in the Chilean city burned to celebrate the occasion in characteristic fashion. But von Spee gave little encouragement. He was under no illusions. He fully realized the power of the English Navy and that his own existence and that of his squadron would speedily be determined. He “absolutely refused” to be celebrated as national hero, and at the German club, where he spent an hour and a half, declined to drink a toast directed in offensive terms against his English enemies. In his conduct of the fights with our ships, in his orders, in his private letters, Admiral von Spee stands out as a simple honest gentleman.

He was a man not very energetic. Though forcible in action and a most skilful naval tactician, he does not seem to have had any plans for the general handling of his squadron. If an enemy turned up he fought him, but he did not go out of his way to seek after him. He dawdled about among the Pacific Islands during September and at Easter Island during most of October; after Coronel he lingered in and out of Valparaiso doing nothing. He must have known that England would not sit down in idle lamentation, but he did nothing to anticipate and defeat her plans for his destruction. His shortage of coal and ammunition caused him to forbid the commerce raiding which appealed to the officers of his light cruisers, and probably the same weakness made him reluctant to seek any other adventures. For five weeks he made no attempt even to raid the Falkland Islands, which lay helplessly expecting his stroke, and when at last he started out by the long safe southern route round the Horn, it was to walk into the mouth of the avenging English squadron which had been gathered there to receive him. One thing is quite certain: he heard no whisper of the English plans and expected to meet nothing at the Falkland Islands more formidable than theCanopus, theGlasgow, and perhaps one or two “County Class” cruisers, such as theCornwallorKent. He never expected to be crunched in the savage jaws of two battle cruisers!

While this kindly, rather indolent German Admiral was marking time off the Chilean coast, the squadron which was to avenge the blunder of Coronel was assembling from the ends of the earth towards the appointed rendezvous off the Brazilian coast. TheBristol, a sister of theGlasgow, had come in from a long cruise in the West Indies, during which she had met and exchanged harmless shots with another German wanderer, theKarlsruhe. TheInvincibleandInflexiblewere racing down from the north. TheCornwallandKent, burning to show that even “County” cruisers were not wholly useless in battle, and the armoured cruiserCarnarvonwere already in the South Atlantic. The poor oldCanopusand theGlasgowhad foregathered at Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands on November 8th, but were immediately ordered north to Montevideo to meet the other cruisers on the passage south. They left in accordance with these orders, but theCanopuswas turned back by wireless, so that Port Stanley might have some naval protection against the expected von Spee raid. Here theCanopuswas put aground in the mud, painted in futurist colours, and converted into a land fort. With her four 12-⁠inch guns she could at least have made the inner harbour impassable to the Germans. TheGlasgowdocked for repairs at Rio, and then joined the avenging squadron which had concentrated off Brazil, and with them swept down to the Falkland Islands which were reached upon the evening of December 7th. All the English ships, to which had been committed the destruction of von Spee, had then arrived. The stage was set and the curtain about to go up upon the second and final act of the Pacific drama. Upon the early morning of the following day, as if in response to a call by Fate, von Spee and his squadron arrived. After five weeks of delay he had at last made up his mind to strike.

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