CORONEL
The blood-red sun betrayed our spars,
Fate doomed us ere we started,
Out-gunned, out-manned, out-steamed, we sank,
But not, thank God, out-hearted.
Inevitably the chief interest of the naval story clusters about the
waters of the North Sea; and most of its dramatic moments have had this
ocean for their setting. But, behind the Grand Fleet and its thousand
auxiliaries, watching all the outlets of the German bases, lesser
squadrons and detached cruisers were keeping guard throughout the
world. Similarly, though the vigour and promptitude with which the
Expeditionary Force was rushed across the Channel before the end of
August, have held, and rightly held, the first place in the popular
conception of our armies' movements, it must be remembered that, during
those weeks, many other thousands of men were elsewhere transported
across the waters. It must be remembered that from India alone, before
the end of August, two Divisions and a Cavalry Brigade sailed for Egypt
en route for France; that, during September and October, yet another
Brigade was sent from India to East Africa, in time to avert an
invasion of the British Colony there that might {45} have had most
serious results; that, during October and November, twenty batteries of
Horse, Field, and Heavy artillery, and thirty-two battalions of regular
infantry were relieved by the transport from England to the East of an
equivalent force of Territorials; and that a force of native infantry
was despatched to assist Japan in the successful occupation of Kiao
Chao.
That represented but a small proportion of the continual military
movement that was going on from end to end of our scattered empire; and
it was only one aspect of the tremendous problem that faced our navy in
the outer seas. What this amounted to can best be comprehended,
perhaps, by a brief consideration of what was actually accomplished.
After the first week of August, the mercantile marine activities of the
Central Empires ceased to operate. Six and a half million tons of
shipping in all the seas of the world were thus almost instantly
immobilized. Further, every German colony, but for its wireless, was
isolated from its centre and prepared for capture; while of the two
million men of enemy origin who might otherwise have returned home to
join the armies, scarcely a handful--such was the navy's mastery--was,
in fact, able to do so. Lastly, not a single Dominion, Colony, or
Dependency of Great Britain or her Allies was invaded or seriously
molested by an enemy naval force.
Now to have achieved all this, while at the same time containing the
German High Seas Fleet in the North Sea--and so containing it that not
even a single squadron was able to break through on to our lines {46}
of commerce--is the best witness to the fundamental rightness of our
initial naval strategy; although the test of war immediately emphasized
what was then our chief need--an even larger number, such were our
manifold requirements, of fast battle-cruisers. It was our shortness
in this respect that, in the last analysis, led to the disaster of
Coronel, arguable as the wisdom of certain of our oversea dispositions
may not unjustly now seem to have been. And, while in our treatment of
both the _Goeben_ and _Breslau_, as regarded the Mediterranean, and the
command of von Spee in the Far East and subsequently in the South
Pacific, there are many points to be reasonably debated before the bar
of naval judgment, neither problem can be fairly considered apart from
the whole situation. In the present and following chapters we are
concerned only with von Spee and the five vessels under his command.
To consider the vessels first, these consisted of two armoured
cruisers, the _Scharnhorst_ and the _Gneisenau_, and three light
cruisers, the _Nürnberg_, the _Dresden_, and the _Leipzig_. Both the
_Scharnhorst_ and the _Gneisenau_ were most efficient units, each with
a speed of over 22 knots, each with a displacement of over 11,000 tons,
a belt of 6-inch armour amidships, and each carrying eight 8.2-inch
guns, six 6-inch guns, eighteen 24-pounders, and four torpedo-tubes.
The three light cruisers were each capable of a speed of about
twenty-five knots, carried ten 4.1-inch, eight 5-pounder, and four
machine-guns, with two submerged torpedo-tubes, and displaced between
3,000 and 4,000 tons. It will be seen at once, therefore, {47} that
they formed a homogeneous and easily manoeuvred squadron, and it may be
readily admitted that they were not only gallantly but very skilfully
handled; while their concentration--since, at the outbreak of war, they
had been scattered over half the world--was a feat of no mean order,
however open to criticism may have been the larger policy involved in
it.
As for von Spee himself, he seems to have been of a type apparently all
too rare in the German naval service, a chivalrous, modest, and
efficient seaman, reticent in victory, and brave in defeat. Under his
command, the _Scharnhorst_ and the _Gneisenau_ had attained an
extremely high standard of gunnery, and it is probable that in this
respect they were second to none flying the German flag.
Leaving Kiao Chao during July, the war had found von Spee and the two
larger cruisers many leagues distant among the Western Pacific islands
and separated by thousands of miles from the other three cruisers, the
_Dresden_, the _Nürnberg_, and the _Leipzig_. Of these the _Dresden_
was in the Atlantic, divided from the other two by the American
continent, and narrowly escaped capture at the hand of the British West
Atlantic Squadron, of which Admiral Cradock was then in command. She
successfully evaded him, however, and, making her way south, entered
South American waters off the coast of Brazil, where her only possible
antagonist at the time was the British cruiser _Glasgow_--a light
cruiser of the _Bristol_ class, displacing about 4,800 tons, capable of
a speed of 25 knots, and carrying two 6-inch and ten 4-inch guns.
{48}
Meanwhile, on August 11th, with all her lights out, there had crept out
of the port of Pernambuco a German steamer, the _Baden_, carrying 5,000
tons of coal, which met and supplied the _Dresden_ at the Rocas
Islands. Three days afterward, the latter sank the _Hyades_, homeward
bound from the River Plate to Holland with a load of grain, and, on
August 26th, she sank the British steamer _Holmwood_, also off the
coast of South America. A fortnight later, on her way to the Pacific,
the _Dresden_ and her collier were creeping round Tierra del Fuego, and
here they met a second collier, the _Santa Isabel_, which had left
Buenos Aires on the 6th of August, nominally bound for Togo.
That was in the middle of September, and, about a fortnight later, with
her name effaced, her masts altered, and her funnels repainted, the
_Santa Isabel_ entered Valparaiso, remaining there until the end of the
month, when she cleared, nominally for Hamburg, but in reality to join
von Spee. In the meantime the _Dresden_ had announced her arrival in
the Pacific by attacking the liner _Ortega_ near the western entrance
of the Magellan Straits; and it was only by the resource and seamanship
of the latter's captain that the British ship succeeded in escaping.
Bound for Valparaiso with 300 French reservists on board, she had a
normal speed of no more than 14 knots, while the _Dresden_, as we have
seen, was at least half as fast again. But the Master of the _Ortega_
was not to be beaten. Calling for volunteers to assist the stokers, he
succeeded in working his old liner up to 18 knots an hour, and at the
same time headed for {49} Nelson's Strait--a perilous and uncharted
passage. Chased by the _Dresden_, and with her shells plunging on each
side of him, he made the dangerous channel in safety. The _Dresden_
turned on her heel, afraid to follow him; and he successfully
navigated, probably for the first time in history, an 8,000-ton liner
through Nelson's Strait.
With the _Dresden_ in the Pacific, all von Spee's future squadron was
now at least in the same ocean, and both the _Nürnberg_ and _Leipzig_,
by stealthy degrees, were approaching the German admiral--the former,
during September, having cut the cable between Bamfield in British
Columbia and the Fanning Islands, and the latter having sunk the
British steamer _Bankfield_ off Peru, while en route to England with
6,000 tons of sugar; the oil tank _Elsinore_; and the steamer _Vine
Branch_, outward bound from England to Guayaquil.
Whether, in the long run, it would not have been to Germany's advantage
for these cruisers to have played their lone hands on the commercial
trade routes; to have followed the example of the _Emden_ and
_Karlsrühe_ rather than to have formed a fighting squadron, is a matter
for argument. Coronel was their justification. The Falkland Islands
saw their end. It was finally in the neighbourhood of Easter Island
that they united with von Spee, who had in his turn eluded both the
China and Australian squadrons, sinking a small French gunboat off
Papeete, and bombarding the town on September 22d.
By this time, the _Glasgow_ had been reinforced in {50} Brazilian
waters by Sir Christopher Cradock in the _Good Hope_ and Captain Brandt
in the _Monmouth_, with the armed liner _Otranto_ in attendance; and
they, too, after similar secret coaling, were making their way round
Cape Horn into the Pacific. Time after time they had heard, faint and
far, the wireless calls of the _Dresden_ and her colliers--they had
even, on more than one occasion, quite unsuspectingly, been within a
comparatively few miles of her--but they had never found her and were
but slowly able to divine her intention of joining von Spee.
That this admiral, with the _Scharnhorst_ and the _Gneisenau_, was
making his way eastward was now probable, and the old battleship
_Canopus_ was in consequence on her way to strengthen Cradock with her
12-inch guns. Up to the last, however, all were uncertain of the
enemy's exact whereabouts and strength; and this was the position when,
on the last day of October, 1914, the _Glasgow_ was detached to run
into Coronel--not unknown to von Spee, who had instantly ordered the
_Nürnberg_ to hover outside and watch her movements.
Such had been the steps whereby, across so many leagues of water, the
opposing squadrons had been collected; had felt their way tentatively,
and, as it were, half blindfold, into the neighbourhood of each other;
and were now, off the coast of Chile, each so far from home, on the
verge of their fatal collision. With the character and strength of von
Spee and his forces we have already briefly dealt; and, in Admiral
Cradock, he had an opponent of an essentially British and traditional
type. A lover of sport, particular as {51} to his wines, of medium
stature, bearded and swarthy, Sir Christopher Cradock was less
identified with the modern and scientific school of naval officer than
with those light-hearted adventurers, of whom Sir Richard Grenville in
his little _Revenge_ stands as an historic example.
Entering the navy in 1875, he had been attached in 1891 to the East
Soudan Field Force, had acted as A.D.C. to the Governor of the Red Sea,
and been present at the Battle of Tokar. For his services in that
campaign, he had received the Khedive's Bronze Star and the fourth
class of the Medjidieh. Nine years later saw him with the British
Naval Brigade in China at the capture of the Taku Forts and the relief
of Tientsin, and for this he had received the China Medal with clasps,
and, in 1902, the C.B. In 1904 he was given the testimonial of the
Royal Humane Society for saving the life of a midshipman in Palmas Bay,
Sardinia; in 1909 he was A.D.C. to the King, and received the K.C.V.O.
in 1912. At the outbreak of the war, as we have seen, he was in charge
of the West Atlantic Squadron.
Such was von Spee's opponent--a man perhaps, if anything, too ready to
fight, whatever the odds though it must not be forgotten that, until
retreat was impossible, he could hardly have been certain of the forces
against him. Whether or not he should have deduced these--whether he
had in fact done so--must remain a matter of opinion; the captain of
the _Canopus_ seems to have entreated him not to join issue without
him; but it is equally clear that, if he had waited for the slow old
battleship, von Spee, {52} had he so desired, could have avoided action
indefinitely.
Considered in the light of after events, indeed, no action of the war
seems to have depended less on human prevision, or to have been so
determined by natural forces and a leisurely and inscrutable destiny.
From the beginning, the odds were against Cradock, just as, six weeks
later, they were against von Spee; and when the _Glasgow_, the first to
sight the enemy, saw the four funnels of the _Scharnhorst_ and the
_Gneisenau_, there could have been little doubt, save for extraordinary
good luck, of the final issue of the battle.
Opposed to these two cruisers, each faster than the _Good Hope_ or the
_Monmouth_, the _Good Hope_ had an armament of two 9.2-inch guns as
against the eight 8.2-inch guns of the _Scharnhorst_, while the
_Monmouth_ in reply to the _Gneisenau_, with an equal armament to the
_Scharnhorst_, could oppose nothing more powerful than 6-inch guns
which were therefore completely outranged. The _Good Hope_ herself,
indeed, owing to faulty construction and the heavy seas, was but little
better off; the _Otranto_, an unarmoured liner, was wholly useless in
such an emergency; the middle-aged _Canopus_, with her superior
gun-power, was still plunging along 200 miles away; while the
_Glasgow_, speedy and efficient as she was, was no match for the
combined _Dresden_ and _Leipzig_--to say nothing of the _Nürnberg_, who
came up later to complete the destruction of the _Monmouth_.
It was about a quarter past four on the afternoon of November 1, 1914,
Admiral von Spee being then some forty miles north of the Bay of Arauco
on the {53} Chilian coast, and the _Nürnberg_, which had returned after
her vigil, having been once more detached on a scouting cruise, that
the _Glasgow_ and _Monmouth_, _Scharnhorst_ and _Gneisenau_ first
sighted and identified each other. It had been a day of strong
sunshine, sudden showers, high wind and a rough sea, and all the ships,
especially the smaller cruisers, were rolling heavily and shipping a
lot of water. When first sighted, the _Glasgow_ and _Monmouth_, soon
to be joined by the _Otranto_, were to the southwest of the German
admiral, fifteen miles distant and pursuing a southerly course--obeying
the order of Admiral Cradock to join up with the _Good Hope_. This was
still invisible to the German squadron, but was sighted about forty
minutes later, when Admiral Cradock took the head of the British line
and both sides moved into battle formation.
The position at this moment--with the long prologue over and the
curtain rising upon the first act was as follows: a little to the north
and nearer to the land, that is to say somewhat east of the British
line, the Germans were steaming south, the _Scharnhorst_ leading,
followed by the _Gneisenau_ and the _Leipzig_. The _Dresden_ was some
miles astern, and the _Nürnberg_ not yet in sight, though she had been
recalled from her second patrol. On the British side, also steaming
south, farther to sea, Admiral Cradock was leading, followed by the
_Monmouth_ and the _Glasgow_, the _Otranto_ bringing up the rear, and
with the _Canopus_ far to the south, steaming north, but of course out
of the picture.
This was at about half-past five, both sides being {54} fully aware now
of the strength and disposition of the other; both suffering severely
from the strong head wind and high seas that were continually burying
them, and both with their eyes upon the setting sun now dropping
rapidly toward the horizon. How vital that sun was each had instantly
perceived. For the moment, protected by the glare of it, it advantaged
Sir Christopher Cradock, von Spee's squadron being brightly
illuminated. But the distance was far too great for the British guns,
and, in less than an hour, the conditions would be reversed. In less
than an hour, himself in half darkness, von Spee would have the British
silhouetted against the after-glow; and, in consequence, there had
begun a race, which could have but one ending, for the inside or
landward position.
Already nearer to the land than Admiral Cradock, and perceiving
Cradock's manoeuvre to try and reverse this, von Spee had crammed full
speed on, and was racing to forestall him, in the teeth of the wind, at
20 knots an hour. To do so was essential, and to secure this position
he outraced the _Leipzig_ and _Dresden_, his superior speed enabling
him to draw parallel with Cradock, while ten miles of sea still parted
the squadrons. Here, while keeping pace with the slower British
vessels, he was able to slacken down and await the _Leipzig_ and
_Dresden_; and when, at ten minutes past six, these had joined him, he
began to draw nearer to the doomed British squadron. This, as all had
foreseen, was now a series of dark targets, tossing clearly outlined
against the sunset, with the rising moon in the east to render a chance
of escape {55} even less possible; and, at a distance of a little over
five miles, von Spee ordered the first shot.
The battle was now joined, and with every circumstance conspiring
against the indomitable Cradock and his men. Handicapped by the seas
as both sides were, the British, farther out, suffered more severely;
while, to the expert gunners of the _Scharnhorst_ and _Gneisenau_,
discounting this one factor, they formed an ideal objective. Within
five minutes the _Good Hope_ was hit, and, though she replied at once,
her fire was ineffective; while, during the next quarter of an hour,
the _Scharnhorst's_ gunners were finding her time after time.
Meanwhile the _Otranto_ had been ordered out of action; the
_Gneisenau_. was pouring shell into the _Monmouth_; and the _Leipzig_
and _Dresden_ were engaging the _Glasgow_, who was gallantly spending
to the best of her ability.
So the fight went on through the brief twilight and into the early
moonlit darkness. Thirty-five hits upon the ill-fated _Good Hope_ were
counted by the _Scharnhorst's_ gunners. One of her turrets was
destroyed and a fire started, followed presently by an explosion that
shook the whole air--the white flames mingling, in von Spee's own
words, "with the bright green stars," like some dreadful firework.
That as von Spee believed, was the end of her. But Cradock was not yet
finished, though his guns were out of action. The opposing vessels
were now only two miles apart and the _Good Hope_ was trying to
manoeuvre to let off her torpedoes. It was but an expiring effort,
however; von Spee stood away a little; the _Monmouth_, totally
outgunned, had already been silenced; a {56} hurrying rain-cloud had
added to the darkness; and, though the German gunners, sighting by the
red reflection of the fires that they had kindled on the two British
vessels, still continued to fire a round or two, their adversaries were
powerless to respond.
It was now nearly eight o'clock. To the watching von Spee, the fires
on the horizon had died down, the _Good Hope's_ quenched by the seas
that covered her, and the _Monmouth's_ put out by the efforts of her
crew. Though both vessels must, he knew, have been badly crippled, von
Spee was unaware, of course, of their real condition, and had ordered
his light cruisers to chase and attack them, himself crossing the
British line, and turning his course northward.
Meanwhile the _Monmouth_, staggering along in the darkness, and slowly
sinking by the head, was in touch with the _Glasgow_--the neighbourhood
of the enemy and the state of the sea rendering any assistance from the
latter impossible. The _Glasgow_ herself had had an almost miraculous
escape, not only from destruction, but even from serious damage. "I
cannot understand," wrote one of her officers, "the miracle of our
deliverance; none will ever. We were struck at the water-line by, in
all, five shells out of about 600 directed at us, but strangely not in
vulnerable places, our coal saving us on three occasions--as we are not
armoured and should not be in battle line against armoured vessels. We
had only two guns that would pierce their armour--the _Good Hope's_ old
two 9.2's, one of which was out of action ten minutes after the start.
A shell entered the captain's pantry and continued on, bursting in a
{57} passage, the fragments going through the steel wall of the
captain's cabin, wrecking it completely. Again no fire resulted."
Such was the position, with the _Scharnhorst_ and _Gneisenau_ hunting
them through the darkness up from the south, the _Dresden_ and
_Leipzig_ between them and the land, and the _Nürnberg_ steaming down
from the north. To remain together would be to sacrifice both; the
_Canopus_, still in ignorance, had to be warned; and the _Monmouth_
seems to have signalled to the _Glasgow_, advising her to part company
and make her escape as best she could. As senior officer, however, the
decision rested with the _Glasgow's_ captain; and it would be difficult
to conceive a more poignant situation. Every instinct not only of
himself but of all on board bade him stay with the _Monmouth_. But the
reasons for not doing so were remorseless, and had, in the event, to be
obeyed. Moreover, the enemy had already been sighted steaming abreast,
about four miles away, morsing with an oil lamp; and the reluctant
order to depart at full speed could no longer be delayed. Half an hour
later, far behind them, the watchers on the _Glasgow_ counted
seventy-five flashes. On her way to rejoin von Spee, and almost by
accident, the _Nürnberg_ had run across the _Monmouth_ and sunk her
with point-blank fire.
Sir Christopher Cradock was a Yorkshireman, and, upon the monument to
his honour, unveiled two years later in York Minster, were inscribed
these words from the Book of Maccabees, than which none could have more
fully expressed him--
{58}
God forbid that I should do this thing,
To flee away from them;
If our time be come, let us die manfully for our brethren,
And let us not stain our honour.
So ended the first act of this outer-sea epic. That another was to
follow none knew better than von Spee.
{59}