CHAPTER IV

THE BATTLE OF THE FALKLAND ISLANDS

Situated off the southeast coast of South America the group of islands,

known as the Falklands, had definitely belonged to Great Britain since

1833. It consisted of about a hundred larger and smaller islands, the

two chief being East and West Falkland, separated by a narrow channel

of water known as the Falkland Sound. About 250 miles, at the nearest

point, from Tierra del Fuego in the extreme south of the continent,

they were some 300 miles distant from the Atlantic entrance of the

Magellan Straits. Their climate was healthful but not attractive.

Rain fell on more than half the days of the year. The seas surrounding

them, even in their December midsummer, were of an arctic coldness and

more often than not shrouded with mists that made navigation difficult

and unpleasant. The chief industry was sheep farming, most of the

farmers and shepherds being of Scottish descent; but there was a

certain amount of business done at Port Stanley in the way of

ship-repairing and the provision of marine stores.

Until 1904, when it was abandoned as such, Port Stanley had been a

naval station, and it still remained the principal town of the islands

and the headquarters {60} of the Government. Situated on the

easternmost projection of the eastern of the two chief islands, it had

a population of about a thousand, and stood on a tongue of land between

the ocean on the south and the innermost of two natural and connected

harbours on the north. Of these, the outer and larger was known as

Port William, with its entrance to the east, the inner recess, on the

shore of which stands the town, being known as Port Stanley.

In 1914 the Governor was the Hon. W. L. Allardyce, and it was toward

the middle of October that he heard from the Admiralty that a raid on

the islands was to be expected and that suitable precautions should be

taken. Accordingly, on October 19th, a notice was posted that all

women and children were to leave Port Stanley; and this was promptly

obeyed, camps being formed inland, and provisions stored in various

places. All Government documents, books, and monies were removed from

the town and conveyed to a safe hiding-place; while, at the same time,

a defense force was organized under the Governor, mustering, all told,

about 130 men. All were good shots, and, with their two machine-guns,

were fully prepared to fight to the last. On advice from the

Admiralty, they were to adopt retiring tactics, should the Germans

land; horses and emergency rations were provided for everybody; and,

with their knowledge of the terrain, and their island hardihood, there

can be little doubt that they would have put up a strong resistance.

This was the position in the island when, on November 3d, a wireless

message was received, {61} announcing the disaster at Coronel; and,

five days later, this was followed by the arrival of the _Glasgow_ and

_Canopus_. A raid by the enemy now amounted to a certainty; both the

British vessels believed the Germans to be on their heels; and when, a

few hours afterward, they received orders to sail for Monte Video, the

feelings of the defenders naturally sank a little. They kept up a

stout heart, however; the strictest watch was maintained; for several

days and nights the Governor never had his clothes off; and, when the

_Canopus_ reappeared, having been turned back before reaching Monte

Video, in order to help the islanders with her guns, there was a

general conviction that they would be able to give von Spee a somewhat

difficult problem to solve on his arrival.

Laying a chain of mines at the entrance to Port William, the _Canopus_

was put aground in the inner harbour, whence, protected by the land,

she would be able to fire her big shells out to sea; her smaller guns

were converted into batteries, mounted in strategic positions among the

surrounding hills. Meanwhile in England, under Lord Fisher, who had

been recalled to the Admiralty as First Sea Lord, secret and decisive

measures had been instantly adopted. Within ten days of the Battle of

Coronel, by an act of the same genius that had created them, the

_Invincible_ and _Inflexible_--two of our earlier, but still very

powerful battle-cruisers, each capable of a speed of 27 knots and

carrying eight 12-inch guns--had been detached from the Grand Fleet,

coaled and munitioned, and, under Vice-Admiral Sir Doveton Sturdee,

were steaming toward the equator, unknown {62} to the world, to avenge

Sir Christopher Cradock and his lost crew.

Ten days later, at a rendezvous in the South Atlantic, they met their

assigned consorts under Rear-Admiral Stoddart; and here the fleet

assembled that was to proceed, first to the Falkland Islands, and

thence, round Cape Horn, to engage von Spee. Apart from its colliers,

of which there were about fourteen, several of these being out-steamed

on the way to Port Stanley, it consisted of the _Carnarvon_, with

Rear-Admiral Stoddart, the _Kent_, _Glasgow_, _Bristol_, and the armed

merchantman _Macedonia_, including, of course, the two battle-cruisers

from England, Sir Doveton Sturdee flying his flag on the _Invincible_.

The _Glasgow_ had been in Rio as recently as November 16th, but every

precaution against discovery had been taken; all communication by

wireless had been strictly forbidden by Admiral Sturdee; and, at about

eleven o'clock on the morning of December 7th, the squadron slipped

quietly into Port William. For the anxious defense force on the

islands the long vigil was now at an end. For such of the officers as

could be spared ashore, and for those whose vessels had to wait their

turn for coaling it was a welcome opportunity to touch land again, and

they were sufficiently prompt to make characteristic use of it. One of

them tells us that, sallying out with his gun, he shot two geese and

six hares for the wardroom larder--as ignorant as everybody else of the

larger game that was even then heading for the islands.

For the most part, however, all on board every {63} vessel were hard at

work getting ready for the search--a search that was still believed, of

course, to be inevitable, no news of von Spee having reached the

island. The _Glasgow_ and _Bristol_, in the inner harbour, were the

first to coal, followed by the _Carnarvon_, who only finished at four

o'clock the next morning, her collier, the _Trelawney_, then going to

the _Invincible_. This was berthed beside her in the outer harbour of

Port William, the _Inflexible_ keeping them company, with the _Kent_

and _Cornwall_ lying a little to the south, the _Kent_, with her steam

up, acting as guardship. Further to seaward, beyond the mine barrage,

was anchored the _Macedonia_, serving as a look-out vessel; while in

the inner harbour were the _Bristol_ and _Glasgow_, with the old

_Canopus_ still aground there. So the night passed. At various points

in the islands, the volunteer sentries kept their watch; and it was

from one of these, stationed on Sapper's Hill, above Port Stanley, that

the first news of the approach of enemy vessels was received between

seven and eight the next morning.

The day had dawned clear, with a calm sea and a light breeze blowing

from the northwest. From horizon to horizon, in the glowing sunlight,

the sea stretched blue as the Mediterranean. It was such a day as, in

the Falkland Islands, might for weeks together have been prayed for in

vain; and, hidden in the harbour, lay such a fleet as von Spee, in his

most depressed moments, was unlikely to have pictured. That he would

find the _Canopus_ there he may have thought probable. That the

_Glasgow_ and _Bristol_ might be there he had deduced from their

wireless. {64} But that the giant battle-cruisers, _Invincible_ and

_Inflexible_, lay quiet as death behind those painted hills--that this

December morning was the last morning that he would ever look upon on

earth--none had told him, and, for all his forebodings, he himself

could never have guessed. But the stage was set again; the curtain had

risen; the watcher on Sapper's Hill had heralded the last act. Let us

look down for a moment with impartial eyes upon the chosen scene. Far

to the south, resolved at last on action, but soon to pay the price of

its strange hesitation, steamed the German squadron with its two

colliers, the _Santa Isabel_ and the _Baden_. To the watcher on

Sapper's Hill, at that early hour, only the foremost cruisers were as

yet observable, faint smudges on the southern horizon--the _Gneisenau_

and the _Nürnberg_. Equally faint, but clear and at their mercy, must

have seemed that spit of land to the observers on the _Gneisenau_,

wholly unconscious, as they then were, of the brisk activities that lay

behind it. Nor were the cruisers in the hidden harbour any more aware

of what the day heralded for them. With the prospect before them of a

voyage round Cape Horn, they were stirring with preparations, but not

for immediate action. The _Kent_ alone of them, acting as guard-ship

at the mouth of Port William, had her steam up. Only the _Glasgow_ and

_Bristol_ in the inner harbour had finished coaling and lay with full

bunkers; and the latter had her fires out in order that her boilers

might be cleaned. Beside the flagship _Invincible_, the colliers were

still busy; the flag-lieutenant was yawning in his dressing-gown over a

cup of tea. The _Inflexible_, {65} on one side of her, was in similar

case, while, upon the other, the _Cornwall_ was busy repairing her

engines. Over them all arched a sky of serene and cloudless beauty.

The air was so limpid that, through powerful glasses, the events of

fifteen miles away might be happening almost at hand.

The flag-lieutenant went on yawning. He had had a long day yesterday,

had been working most of the night, and was short of sleep. There came

a knock at the door. A signalman entered. The smudges on the horizon

had revealed themselves as men-of-war. They could only be von Spee's,

and yet it was hardly believable. To tell the admiral was the work of

an instant; and soon the amazing tidings were known throughout the

fleet. The _Kent_ was at once ordered to weigh anchor, and every ship

in the squadron to raise steam for full speed. Colliers were shoved

off. Sailors who were in their "land rig" scrambled out of it like

quick-change artists. Down in the engine-rooms, grimed men worked

miracles, of which, for the moment, let the _Cornwall_ give an example.

At eight o'clock, as we have said, she had her starboard engine down,

with one cylinder opened for repairs at six hours' notice; and yet,

before ten o'clock, she was under way, and, by a quarter past eleven,

making more than twenty knots.

Meanwhile, at twenty minutes past eight, the Sapper's Hill signaller

had reported more smoke on the horizon; and, a quarter of an hour

later, as the _Kent_ steamed to the harbour entrance, the captain of

the _Canopus_ reported this to be proceeding from two ships about

twenty miles off, the two first sighted {66} being now little more than

eight miles away. Three minutes afterward yet another column of smoke

was signalled from Sapper's Hill; and the _Macedonia_ was ordered to

weigh anchor on the inner side of the other cruisers. It was now

evident that von Spee was arriving in force, probably with the whole of

his squadron; and, at twenty minutes past nine, the _Gneisenau_ and

_Nürnberg_ were seen, broadside on, training their guns on the wireless

station. By this time, however, at less than seven miles distance,

they were well within range of the _Canopus_, who anticipated them by

firing a salvo over the low-lying tongue of land that sheltered her.

None of this first shower of 12-inch shells seems to have been

effective in damaging the enemy; but it no doubt confirmed for the

German admiral the presence of the _Canopus_ in the harbour; and both

the _Gneisenau_ and _Nürnberg_ were at once observed to alter their

course. For a moment it appeared as if they intended to approach the

_Kent_ at the harbour entrance, but, a few minutes later, they wore

away with the evident intention of joining their comrades.

Both cruisers were now visible from the upper bridge of the

_Invincible_; and the tops of the _Invincible_ and _Inflexible_ must

have been equally apparent to them; though it still seems uncertain

whether they had positively identified yet the two great cruisers that

spelt their doom. Meanwhile, in the harbour, every preparation was

being pushed forward with the utmost speed. At twenty minutes to ten

the _Glasgow_ weighed anchor and steamed down the harbour to join the

_Kent_. Next to the two battle-cruisers, she {67} was the speediest

vessel in the squadron, and her orders were to observe the enemy. Five

minutes later, the _Carnarvon_ put out, followed by the _Inflexible_,

_Invincible_, and _Cornwall_, the two big battle-cruisers burning their

oil fuel, prudently spared for the occasion that had arrived.

It was now twenty minutes past ten, and the character of the future

action was already determined. For the Germans it had become instantly

clear that their only hope--if such it might be called--lay in flight;

and, on the British side, the order had been signalled for a general

chase at full speed. Gathering pace, the two battle-cruisers from the

north soon overtook and outstripped the _Carnarvon_ and _Kent_, the

position at eleven o'clock, with the squadron as a whole making about

20 knots, being as follows--the _Glasgow_ was still leading, but had

been ordered to remain within two miles of the flagship _Invincible_;

next came the _Invincible_ herself, with her decks flooded by hoses to

prevent fire and wash away the last of the coal-dust; the _Inflexible_

followed behind her, on her starboard quarter, with the _Kent_ falling

away from her astern and aport, followed by the _Carnarvon_, with the

faster _Cornwall_ reluctantly obeying orders to remain upon her

quarter. Left behind in the harbour were the _Bristol_ and

_Macedonia_; but, just at this moment, on the other side of the island,

a lady watcher at Fitz Roy, Mrs. Roy Felton, had seen and reported

three other German vessels. Two of these--the third made its

escape--were the colliers, already familiar to us, the _Santa Isabel_

and _Baden_. The coal on board these vessels {68} had been obtained

from various sources since the action off Coronel, some from the

_Valentino_, a French prize, and some from the British vessel

_Drummuir_, captured on December 2d; and the _Bristol_ and _Macedonia_

were at once ordered by Admiral Sturdee to deal with them. Between

nine and ten miles to the south, on a course east-north-east, von Spee

in the _Scharnhorst_ was travelling at full speed, followed by the

_Dresden_, the _Gneisenau_, the _Nürnberg_, and the _Leipzig_, in the

order named.

This was the situation then, and, before considering in detail one of

the completest naval victories in our history, let us examine it for a

moment as it presented itself to Admiral Sturdee, a remarkably

cool-brained and deliberate tactician. With a long day in front of

him, with nothing to fear in the way of destroyer or submarine-attack,

with the whole of the enemy squadron now before his eyes, and with

perfect visibility, he possessed under his command, in his own

flagship, in the _Inflexible_, and in the _Glasgow_, three vessels at

least that, in the matter of speed, were considerably superior to the

enemy. Further, although the enemy's gunnery was known to be excellent

both in speed and accuracy, the 12-inch guns of the _Invincible_ and

_Inflexible_ enabled him to dictate a long-range action; and there were

two other weighty considerations that suggested the wisdom of such a

course. For, while in gun-power the two battle-cruisers were far ahead

of the _Scharnhorst_ and _Gneisenau_, in armour they were not so

strong; and the nearest repairing yard was at Gibraltar. There were no

obligations, therefore, to run {69} any risk. There was every reason

for not doing so. So long as, in the end, the Germans were sunk, a few

hours would make no difference. Sailors fight best when well fed.

Tobacco is an excellent solvent for undue excitement; and the British

admiral therefore gave orders that dinner was to be served as usual,

and that the men were to be allowed a few minutes for a quiet smoke.

As one of the officers on the flagship afterward observed, they might

almost have been at manoeuvres off Spithead--precisely the atmosphere

that Admiral Sturdee had wisely designed to create.

It was at five minutes to one, at a range of about nine miles, that the

first shot was fired by the _Inflexible_, taking for her target the

light cruiser _Leipzig_, the last vessel of von Spee's line. Five

minutes afterward the _Invincible_ followed suit, also taking the

_Leipzig_ for her target; and soon afterward the battle resolved itself

into three separate encounters--that between the _Invincible_,

_Inflexible_, and _Carnarvon_, and the _Scharnhorst_ and _Gneisenau_;

that between the _Glasgow_ and _Cornwall_, and the _Leipzig_; and

finally, after an epic chase, that in which the _Kent_ overtook and

sank the _Nürnberg_.

These conditions were first brought about when, at twenty minutes past

one, the _Leipzig_ turned away toward the southwest, soon to be

followed by the _Nürnberg_ and _Dresden_, with the _Glasgow_, _Kent_,

and _Cornwall_ in pursuit. With them had started the _Carnarvon_, but

the rear-admiral in command of her, finding his speed insufficient to

keep up with the light cruisers, had to give up the chase, and joined

the _Invincible_ and _Inflexible_ in engaging the {70} _Scharnhorst_

and _Gneisenau_. Leaving the action of the smaller cruisers in the

capable hands of Captain Luce of the _Glasgow_, let us follow the

fortunes of the other three in the most immediate and important task.

Of these the ten-year-old _Carnarvon_, pushing on as stoutly as she

could, was still trying vainly to keep up with her swifter sisters; and

the first encounter was reduced, therefore, to a four-cornered fight

lasting for about fifty minutes.

Beginning at twenty minutes past one, the _Scharnhorst_ and

_Gneisenau_, after five minutes of a running battle, turned a little to

port, began to close the range, and accepted the challenge; and, five

minutes later, opened fire themselves. Though of smaller calibre,

their guns, firing very rapidly, were as usual handled with extreme

ability; and, in the words of the flag-lieutenant--half-way up the

_Invincible's_ foremast, in the director-tower with Admiral

Sturdee--they shot indeed "fiendishly well." "We went on hammering

away," he wrote, "for some time, getting closer and closer, and they

were hitting us pretty badly. I thought that our foremast had gone

once. The Admiral and I were half-way up so as to get a good view.

One of the legs of the mast was shot away. Shell fire is unpleasant,

to put it mildly. Exploding shells, when they hit the ship, are worse,

as one wonders how many she will stand. The Admiral was wonderfully

cool and collected, and I bobbed my head at every shell, and got a

stiff neck from doing it!"

At a quarter to two the _Invincible_ was being straddled--the

_Scharnhorst's_ shells, that is to say, were exploding on both sides of

her--and Admiral {71} Sturdee, consistently with his plan of action,

drew away a little to avoid undue risks. The _Scharnhorst_ had by this

time been hit on several occasions, but had not been disabled, though

she broke off the action; and, at ten minutes past two, the fight

became a chase again, the _Invincible_ reopening fire at a quarter to

three. For eight minutes, again out-ranging them, the _Invincible_ and

_Inflexible_ hammered the two German cruisers, forcing them round to

port once more to reply as best they could. The heavier British guns

had now begun definitely to tell, however, and the _Scharnhorst_ was

already on fire forward. "We hit again and again," wrote Midshipman

John Esmonde in a letter to his father after the action. "First our

left gun sent her big crane spinning over the side. Then our right gun

blew her funnel to atoms, and then another shot from the left gun sent

her bridge and part of the forecastle sky-high. We were not escaping

free, however. Shots were hitting us repeatedly, and the spray from

the splashes of their shells was hiding the _Scharnhorst_ from us....

Down came the range--11,000, 10,000, 9,000, to 8,800. We were hitting

the _Scharnhorst_ very nearly every time. One beauty from our right

gun got one of her turrets fair and square and sent it whistling over

the side. Suddenly our right gun misfired--we had got a jamb and one

gun was out of action. The breech had caught against one of the cages

and would neither open nor shut. We opened up the trap hatch, and I

jumped out, and down the ladder with two men to try and find a crowbar.

The 12-inch guns were firing all round us, and our left gun was {72}

doing work for two now that the right was jambed. The German shells

were whistling unpleasantly close and there were splinters flying all

over the place. The _Scharnhorst_ was firing heavily, but I could see

she was in a bad way. She was down by the bows and badly on fire

amidships. I got the crowbar and brought it in, but they wanted a

hacksaw as well, so I jumped out again, and just as I was coming back I

saw the _Scharnhorst's_ ensign dip (never knew whether it came down or

not, because just then one of the lyddite shells hit her and there was

a dense cloud of smoke all over her).[1] When it cleared she was on

her side, and her propellers were lashing the water round into foam.

Then she capsized altogether, going to the bottom."

[1] As a matter of fact, the _Scharnhorst's_ ensign was not lowered,

but, as Admiral Sturdee afterward remarked, "Von Spee met his fate like

a brave Admiral, though our foe."

That was at a quarter past four; her consort the _Gneisenau_ was still

firing with all her guns; and, by this time, the old _Carnarvon_ had at

last arrived upon the scene--she had in fact fired a couple of shots at

the _Scharnhorst_. The three cruisers, therefore, now turned their

attention to the _Gneisenau_, who, after a moment's hesitation, turned

and stood at bay. Nothing in the whole day, indeed, was more gallant

than her vain but desperate resistance. At half-past four she was

still straddling the _Invincible_, though without causing casualties or

serious damage. A few minutes after five, her forward funnel was

knocked out and remained lolling against the second. Seven minutes

later, just as she hit the _Invincible_ {73} for the last time, she was

herself badly damaged again between the third and fourth funnels; and

how accurate the British fire had become can be gathered from the

notebook of one of her officers, afterward rescued. "Five ten," he

wrote, "hit, hit; 5.12, hit; 5:14, hit, hit, hit again; 5:20,

after-turret gone; 5:40, hit, hit--on fire everywhere; 5:41, hit,

hit--burning everywhere and sinking; 5:45, hit--men lying everywhere;

5:46, hit, hit."

Listing heavily to starboard, and with her engines stopped, Admiral

Sturdee had ordered the "Cease Fire" signal at about half-past five.

But, before it could be hoisted, the _Gneisenau_ began to shoot again,

though now only spasmodically and with a single gun. She seems to have

fired, indeed, until her ammunition was exhausted, when, at ten minutes

to six, Admiral Sturdee ordered the "Cease Fire" again and, twelve

minutes later, she turned on her side. "Then at last," wrote another

officer, "away first and second cutters, man sea-boat. For the

_Gneisenau_ is heeling right over on her side in the water. The

beggars are done for. All our efforts will now be to save life, having

done our utmost for five hours to destroy it.... Three of our boats

are away picking up survivors. The _Inflexible's_ boats are doing the

same, and so are the _Carnarvon's_. The sea, which, so different from

its state at noonday, is now quite angry, is strewn with floating

wreckage supporting drowning men. To add to the misery, a drizzling

rain is falling. We cast overboard every rope's end we can, and try

our hands at casting to some wretch feebly struggling within a few

yards of {74} the ship's side. Missed him! Another shot. He's

farther off now! Ah! The rope isn't long enough. No good, try

someone else. He's sunk now.... Many such do we see. Now we lend a

hand hauling at a rope, pulling some poor devil out of the water. As

they are hauled on deck they are taken below into the wardroom

ante-room, or the Admiral's spare cabin. Here with knives we tear off

their dripping clothing. Then with towels we try to start a little

warmth in their ice-cold bodies. They are trembling, violently

trembling from the iciness of their immersion. Some of them had stuck

it for thirty minutes in a temperature of 35 degrees Fahrenheit!"

"The _Invincible_ alone," reported Admiral Sturdee, "rescued 108 men,

fourteen of whom were found to be dead after being brought on board.

These men were buried at sea the following day with full military

honours." Few will say that they were undeserved.

By now the battle had been distributed over many leagues of sea; the

units engaged were not only out of sight of each other, but even beyond

the sound of each other's guns; and it is time to return to Captain

Luce in his war-scarred _Glasgow_, who, with the _Kent_ and _Cornwall_,

was pursuing the three light cruisers. More perhaps than to any others

of the officers and crews engaged did their part in this struggle mean

to those of the _Glasgow_. The sole survivors of Coronel, they had

lived, as none of their comrades had done, for a bitter five weeks,

with the picture of it before them. When all would fain have stayed

and fought to the last, they had been compelled, in the interests of

their service, to take the harder way. {75} They had a peculiar debt

to discharge, and now, if they could but seize it, their hour had come

to repay it with interest.

It was at about twenty minutes past one when the three German cruisers

had broken away toward the southwest, the _Dresden_ leading with the

_Nürnberg_ and _Leipzig_ following her on each quarter. The distance

then separating them from the _Glasgow_, _Kent_, and _Cornwall_, was

from nine to eleven miles; all were speedy, the _Dresden_ being the

fastest; and a long, stern chase therefore ensued. Of the three

British cruisers, the _Glasgow_, in spite of her late experiences, was

still considerably the swiftest; and she soon drew away from them,

overhauling the _Leipzig_ and _Nürnberg_, until at three o'clock she

was within seven miles of the former. Her idea was now, if possible,

so to outrange the _Leipzig_ as to turn and delay her until the arrival

of the _Kent_ and _Cornwall_, far slower vessels even than the

_Leipzig_, but carrying fourteen 6-inch guns to the _Glasgow's_ two.

At three o'clock, therefore, she opened fire with her 6-inch guns, and,

for more than an hour, engaged the _Leipzig_ until the arrival of the

_Cornwall_. By that time she had already hit her many times over, but

had had to draw away on several occasions, owing to the accuracy of the

_Leipzig's_ gunners. With time and speed and the range on his side,

Captain Luce, like his admiral, could afford to be deliberate; and yet

even so, with a little more luck, the _Leipzig_ might have damaged the

_Glasgow_ rather severely. Two of her officers stationed in the

control-top had a very narrow escape from losing their lives, a shell

passing between them, {76} and carrying away the hand of a

signalman--three other men being wounded and one killed at about the

same time. After an hour and a quarter, and having had an early tea,

the _Cornwall_ arrived on the scene, and was soon, as one of the

_Glasgow's_ seamen, admitted, "shooting very well."

We have last seen the _Cornwall_, not wholly to her liking, upon the

quarter of the even slower _Carnarvon_; but, a little after noon, to

her great satisfaction, she had received orders to go ahead. When the

three light cruisers had broken to the south in their endeavour to

escape, she had turned after them, as we have said, with her sister

ship, the _Kent_, in the wake of the nimbler _Glasgow_. Now, thanks to

the _Glasgow_ and the superhuman efforts of their two engine-room

staffs, both the _Kent_ and _Cornwall_ were at last in action, the

former being ordered in pursuit of the _Nürnberg_--where we may leave

her for a moment performing imperishable conjuring-tricks in the way of

stoking and engine-driving, while her luckier consorts, already at

close grips, were battering the _Leipzig_ to pieces.

At twenty minutes to five, a shot from the _Cornwall_, at a range of

between four and five miles, carried away her foremast; but, ten

minutes later, after delivering a broadside, and as she was being hit

herself, the _Cornwall_ drew away a little. The _Leipzig_ had now lost

one of her funnels as well as being on fire aft, many of her guns being

already silenced; but at six o'clock she was still firing well enough

to hit the _Cornwall_ severely and once more to force the latter away a

little. This was only for a moment, {77} however, the _Cornwall_

reopening with lyddite shell at a quarter past six, and now pressing

her attack home with tremendous force and accuracy to a range of less

than three miles. In this the _Glasgow_ joined her--it being obviously

useless now to hunt for the _Dresden_ miles away in the mist--and, by

ten minutes to seven, the _Leipzig_ was on fire everywhere, though her

flag was still flying and her guns occasionally responding. The two

British cruisers then stopped firing for a little, but dared not draw

near for fear of a torpedo-attack. Blazing in every corner, with her

sides red hot, and with great gaps in her torn by the lyddite, it

seemed now that every moment must be the _Leipzig's_ last; but still

she floated and would not strike her colours. Fire was again reopened,

therefore, although, as one of the _Cornwall's_ officers said, "We all

hated doing it," and, half an hour later, she sent up a couple of

rockets signifying that she surrendered and asking for help.

What her condition was then has been vividly described by Private

Whittaker of the Royal Marine Light Infantry. "When we went right

close," he wrote to his mother, "she looked just like a

night-watchman's fire bucket, all holes and fire." Searchlights were

now playing upon her through the rain and darkness, but, in view of

possible explosions, the boats could not approach too near; out of her

crew of over three hundred, less than a score were saved; and, at just

about nine o'clock, she rolled over to port, seemed to recover a

moment, and then slipped out of sight.

So perished the _Leipzig_, not less gallantly, but as condignly as the

_Scharnhorst_ and _Gneisenau_, news of {78} whose destruction had been

wirelessed to the _Cornwall_ and _Glasgow_. Whatever might happen now,

victory was assured; the _Good Hope_ and _Monmouth_ had been amply

avenged; and to the _Cornwall_ and _Glasgow_, buffeting home to Port

Stanley, few happier moments were likely to come. Into the feelings of

Captain Luce it would be impertinent to pry; but a little may be

guessed, perhaps, from what follows. "About half an hour ago," said

one of his crew, writing home on December 11th, "the Captain made a

speech, or rather tried to, but failed. He first of all read out the

King's message to the Fleet, and then tried to say a few words himself;

'I have seen the _Glasgow's_ ship's company fight twice, and I thank

you for the way in which you fought. I couldn't have a better ship's

company.' Then he said, 'I can't say any more.'"

That is to leap forward, however, three days and to leave the _Kent_

still ploughing after the _Nürnberg_--out of sight of everybody now and

with the impossible task of making a doubtful 20-knot vessel catch one

five knots faster; and not only overtake her, but bring her to action,

with the weather changing and darkness not far off. But to the

engine-room staff of the _Kent_ and to her stokers no less than to

Captain Allen--"Sink-her" Allen, they called him--the word impossible,

for to-night at least, might not be whispered with impunity. There was

the _Nürnberg_ flushed from Coronel, and here was the _Kent_ with her

fourteen good guns; coal might be short and the engines in their second

childhood, but if those guns did not find the _Nürnberg_, it would not

be the fault of the engine-room. First out of harbour in the {79}

early morning, a spirit of extreme cheerfulness seems to have reigned

in the _Kent_ from the beginning of the action. Thus, at half-past

ten, we find her officers drinking the toast of _Deutschland unter

Alles_ in sloe-gin. Soon afterward they lunched; and then--as many of

them as could be spared--established themselves on the top of the

forward gun-turret to watch the fun.

This was christened "the stalls" and seems to have been well patronized

till half-past one when they went to Action Stations again. Falling

out at twenty minutes past two, watch was resumed from the bridge,

which then became known as "the upper circle." At five minutes to four

tea was served in the gun-room, and, twenty minutes later, Action

Stations were taken up again. At that time the _Leipzig_ and

_Nürnberg_ were well in view, with the _Dresden_ almost out of sight on

the horizon--the _Leipzig_ on the starboard bow, nearer at hand, and

being engaged by the _Glasgow_, and a moment afterward by the

_Cornwall_, and the _Nürnberg_ away to port and considerably more

distant. Then came the order to pursue the latter, the _Leipzig_ being

given a salvo or two in passing; and it was then that there began the

race that was destined to become traditional in every engine-room of

the navy. With no coal to spare, everything combustible was crammed

into her long-suffering furnaces. Tables and chairs, officers'

furniture, wooden companion-ladders, even planks from the deck, were

knocked to pieces and thrust into the flames for the ultimate

destruction of the _Nürnberg_.

"The entire staff," afterward wrote one of her {80} engineer officers,

"was doing its best, and, my word it was a best. We pushed her along,

more, more, more. The revolutions of the engines at the first time of

starting were more than the revolutions the dockyard could get out of

her, and she was worked up gently bit by bit, easying down occasionally

when things looked as if they were not going quite right, or when they

threatened to do so. An anxious moment was reached when we got on

every ounce of steam that the engines could take. We were just then

going some sixteen revolutions a minute faster than the Admiralty full

power, and also the designed power of 22,000 horse-power, some 5,000

horse-power more than we ought to have done. In times of peace we

should have been court-martialled for this, but we came out top.... We

were doing from 2-½ to 3 knots faster than the old _Kent_ had ever done

before. We were doing over 25 knots 'full speed,' the highest ever

attained being 22 knots."

Fortunately for the _Kent_, too, the _Nürnberg_ had her own boiler

troubles, but they were of a different order, and she was unable to

make her usual speed; and, after about an hour, the _Kent_ was near

enough to open fire at a range of a little over six miles. It was now

the gunners' opportunity, and though they were reservists, drawn, as

one of the officers put it, "from all sorts of weird places," they rose

to the occasion, like first-class experts, and found their target

almost at once. Nor could Captain Allen afford himself the license

that had been the right policy for the other commanders. It was now

past five; rain was falling; his supply of combustible bric-à-brac was

{81} strictly limited. It was a case of now or never, and the _Kent_,

taking her punishment as it came, pushed the action for all she was

worth.

With her foretop shot away down to the crows' nest, and her silk ensign

cut to ribbons; with her wireless knocked out, so that she could no

longer send, though she was still able to receive, messages; with half

a dozen holes through her funnels and several more in her side--she

gained a quarter of a mile with every salvo until she was pounding the

_Nürnberg_ at less than three miles distance. Struck in all thirty-six

times, and with five men killed and eleven wounded, the behaviour of

all on board was, in their captain's own words, "perfectly

magnificent"--a typical example being that of Sergeant Mayes, whose

courage and presence of mind probably saved the ship.

A bursting shell had started a fire among some cordite charges in the

casemate. A tongue of flame had leaped down the hoist and into the

ammunition passage, endangering the magazine. Without an instant's

pause, and although severely burned, Sergeant Mayes picked up a cordite

charge and threw it away, afterward flooding the compartment and

putting out a fire that had started in some neighbouring empty shell

bags. No wonder that Captain Allen, writing afterward to the

Association of Men at _Kent_, should have said that "though the enemy

fought bravely to the very end, against such men as I have the honour

to command, they never could have had a chance."

By half-past six, the _Nürnberg_ was on fire forward, {82} all her guns

being apparently silenced, and the _Kent_ ceased shelling her, and drew

up within two miles. Her flag was still flying, however, and the

_Kent_ opened fire again, but only for a few minutes longer, when the

_Nürnberg_ hauled her flag down and made signs of surrender. She was

now blazing furiously, and listing heavily to starboard; and the _Kent_

began to take measures to save life. Unfortunately all her boats had

been holed by the _Nürnberg's_ fire, and, before she could launch them,

they had to be repaired. Two were quickly patched up, but the crews

were only successful in saving a dozen men, five of whom afterward died

on board from the effects of wounds and exposure.

To complete the victory of this single-ship action everyone on board

had contributed his utmost, but it seems probable that in history the

larger share of the credit will be given unstintingly to the engineers

and stokers. It was certainly bestowed on them by their comrades in

the _Kent_. "The captain," we are told, "nearly fell on the

engineer-commander's neck and kissed him when he 'blew up' after the

action to see him and to advise as to the best speed to go back to

harbour. He nearly shouted at him for some time: 'My dear fellow, my

dear engineer-commander! You won the action, you did it splendid!

Without your speed we should have lost everything.'"

Meanwhile, at Port Stanley, now in wireless communication with all the

rest of Admiral Sturdee's squadron, the silence of the _Kent_, owing to

her broken wireless, had begun to give rise to some alarm. "_Kent,

Kent, Kent_" rang the invisible call, but there was no {83} reply, and

it was feared that she had been lost. It was perhaps characteristic

that, in spite of this, she was the first of them all to reach port the

next day. Of von Spee's squadron only the _Dresden_ remained, to be

run to earth three months later. The _Bristol_ and _Macedonia_, after

capturing their crews, had sunk the _Santa Isabel_ and the _Baden_; and

the total British casualties in killed and wounded amounted to less

than thirty.

{84}

The Heroic Record of the British Navy: A Short History of the Naval War, 1914-1918 · 第 4 / 12 章