THE BOMBARDMENT OF SCARBOROUGH AND HARTLEPOOL
December 16, 1914
‘All comes out even at the end of the day, and all comes out still
more even when all the days are over.’
VOLTAIRE.
Naval Intelligence—The Captured German Signal Book—Directional
Wireless—Sir Arthur Wilson’s Task—His Conclusions of December
14—Orders to the Fleets—December 16: Bombardment of Scarborough
and Hartlepool—Favourable Position of the British Forces—The
Visibility Fails—Groping in the Mist—The German High Sea Fleet at
Sea—Disappointment—A forlorn Hope—What had Happened—The Dawn
Situation—A Fateful Hour—Flight of the German Fleet—The British
Sweep to the West—The Brush with the Enemy’s Light
Cruisers—Mischance—von Hipper dodges to the North—Escape of the
German Battle Cruisers—The Admiralty Communiqué—Public Discontent.
Our Intelligence service has won and deserved world-wide fame. More than
perhaps any other Power, we were successful in the war in penetrating
the intentions of the enemy. Again and again the forecasts both of the
military and of the naval Intelligence Staffs were vindicated to the
wonder of friends and the chagrin of foes. The three successive chiefs
of the Naval Intelligence Division, Captain Thomas Jackson, Rear-Admiral
Oliver, and lastly Captain Reginald Hall, were all men of mark in the
service, and continuously built and extended an efficient and profound
organisation. There were others—a brilliant confederacy—whose names even
now are better wrapt in mystery. Our information about German naval
movements was principally obtained (1) from the reports of secret agents
in neutral and enemy countries and particularly in Germany, (2) from the
reports of our submarines, which lay far up in the Heligoland Bight in
perilous vigilance, and (3) from a special study we had made of the
German wireless. In this we were for a time aided by great good luck.
At the beginning of September, 1914, the German light cruiser
_Magdeburg_ was wrecked in the Baltic. The body of a drowned German
under-officer was picked up by the Russians a few hours later, and
clasped in his bosom by arms rigid in death, were the cypher and signal
books of the German Navy and the minutely squared maps of the North Sea
and Heligoland Bight. On September 6 the Russian Naval Attaché came to
see me. He had received a message from Petrograd telling him what had
happened, and that the Russian Admiralty with the aid of the cypher and
signal books had been able to decode portions at least of the German
naval messages. The Russians felt that as the leading naval Power, the
British Admiralty ought to have these books and charts. If we would send
a vessel to Alexandrov, the Russian officers in charge of the books
would bring them to England. We lost no time in sending a ship, and late
on an October afternoon Prince Louis and I received from the hands of
our loyal allies these sea-stained priceless documents. We set on foot
at once an organisation for the study of the German wireless and for the
translating of the messages when taken in. At the head of the
organisation was placed Sir Alfred Ewing the Director of Naval
Education, whose services to the Admiralty in this and other matters
were of the first order. The work was of great complexity, as of course
the cypher is only one element in the means of preserving the secrecy of
a message. But gradually during the beginning of November our officers
succeeded in translating intelligible portions of various German naval
messages. They were mostly of a routine character. ‘One of our torpedo
boats will be running out into square 7 at 8 p.m.,’ etc. But a careful
collection of these scraps provided a body of information from which the
enemy’s arrangements in the Heligoland Bight could be understood with a
fair degree of accuracy. The Germans, however, repeatedly changed their
codes and keys and it was only occasionally and for fitful periods that
we were able to penetrate them. As the war went on they became
increasingly suspicious and devised measures which were completely
baffling. While, however, this source of information lasted, it was
obviously of the very greatest value.
The German official history shows itself at last well-informed upon this
subject (p. 194): ‘Even if doubt were to exist that the British
Admiralty were in possession of the whole secret cyphering system of the
German Fleet, it has been cleared away by the reliable news from
Petrograd, that after the stranding of the _Magdeburg_ off Odensholm the
secret papers of that ship, which had been thrown overboard, were picked
up by the Russians and communicated to their Allies.’
Lastly, largely through the foresight of Admiral Oliver, we had begun
setting up directional stations in August, 1914. We thus carried to an
unrivalled and indeed unapproached degree of perfection our means of
fixing the position and, by successive positions, the course of any
enemy ship that used its wireless installation.
‘The English,’ says Scheer (p. 73) ‘received news through their
“directional stations” which they already had in use, but which were
only introduced by us at a much later period.... In possessing them the
English had a very great advantage in the conduct of the war as they
were thus able to obtain quite accurate information of the locality of
the enemy as soon as any wireless signals were sent by him. In the case
of a large fleet; whose separate units are stationed far apart and
communication between them is essential, an absolute cessation of all
wireless intercourse would be fatal to any enterprise.’
But between collecting and weighing information, and drawing the true
moral therefrom, there is very often an unbridged gap. Signals have been
made, the wireless note of a particular ship is heard, lights are to be
shown on certain channels at certain hours, ships are in movement,
sweeping vessels are active, channels are buoyed, lock-gates are
opened—what does it all mean? At first sight it all appears to be only
ordinary routine. Yet taking the items together may lead to a tremendous
revelation. Suffice it to say that all these indications, from whatever
sources they emanated, were the subject of a special study by Sir Arthur
Wilson, and he had the solemn duty of advising our War Group upon them.
The silence of the North Sea remained unbroken until the afternoon of
Monday, December 14. At about 7 o’clock Sir Arthur Wilson came to my
room and asked for an immediate meeting with the First Sea Lord and the
Chief of the Staff. It took only a few minutes to gather them. He then
explained that his examination of the available intelligence about the
enemy indicated the probability of an impending movement which would
involve their battle-cruisers and perhaps—though of this there was no
positive evidence—have an offensive character against our coasts. The
German High Sea Fleet, he stated definitely, appeared not to be
involved. The indications were obscure and uncertain. There were gaps in
the argument. But the conclusion reached after hearing Sir Arthur Wilson
was that we should act as if we knew that our assumptions and
suppositions were true. It was decided not to move the whole Grand
Fleet. A great deal of cruising had been imposed on the Fleet owing to
the unprotected state of Scapa, and it was desirable to save wear and
tear of machinery and condensers as much as possible. Moreover the risks
of accident, submarine and mine, which were incurred every time that
immense organisation was sent to sea, imposed a certain deterrent upon
its use except when clearly necessary.
This decision, from which the Commander-in-Chief did not dissent, was,
in the light of subsequent events, much to be regretted. But it must be
remembered that the information on which the Admiralty was acting, had
never yet been tested; that it seemed highly speculative in character,
and that for whatever it was worth, it excluded the presence at sea of
the German High Sea Fleet. Orders were therefore given immediately for
the battle-cruisers and the 2nd Battle Squadron, with a light cruiser
squadron and a flotilla of destroyers, to raise steam and to proceed to
sea at such hours and at such speeds as to enable them to be in an
intercepting position at daylight the next morning. Orders were sent to
Commodore Tyrwhitt’s Harwich Force to be at sea off Yarmouth, and to
Commodore Keyes, to place our eight available oversea submarines in a
position off Terschelling to guard against a southward raid. The coastal
forces were also put upon the alert.[96]
_Admiralty to Commander-in-Chief._
_December 14, 1914. Sent 9.30 p.m._
Good information just received shows German 1st Cruiser Squadron with
Destroyers leave Jade River on Tuesday morning early and return on
Wednesday night. It is apparent from the information that the
Battleships are very unlikely to come out.
The enemy force will have time to reach our coast.
Send at once leaving to-night the Battle Cruiser Squadron and Light
Cruiser Squadron supported by a Battle Squadron preferably the Second.
At daylight on Wednesday morning they should be at some point where
they can make sure of intercepting the enemy on his return.
Tyrwhitt with his Light Cruisers and Destroyers will try to get in
touch with enemy off British coast and shadow him keeping Admiral
informed.
From our information the German 1st Cruiser Squadron consists of 4
Battle-Cruisers and 5 Light Cruisers and there will possibly be three
flotillas of Destroyers.
Acknowledge.
_Admiralty to Commodore ‘T’ Harwich._
_December 15, 1914. Sent 2.5 p.m._
There is good probability of German Battle-Cruisers, Cruisers and
Destroyers being off our coast to-morrow about daybreak.
One M Class Destroyer is to patrol vicinity of North Hinder Lightship
from midnight until 9 a.m. A second M Class Destroyer is to patrol a
line extending 15 miles south magnetic from a position lat. 53° 0′ N.,
long. 3° 5′ E. from midnight until 9 a. m.
The duty of these Destroyers is to look out for and report the enemy
and trust to their speed to escape.
If the weather is too bad, they are to return to Harwich. Report their
names.
The 1st and 3rd Flotillas with all available Light Cruisers are to be
under way off Yarmouth before daylight to-morrow ready to move to any
place where the enemy may be reported from, whether it is to the
northward or southward.
Their duty is to get touch with the enemy follow him and report his
position to the Vice-Admiral 2nd Battle Squadron and Vice-Admiral 1st
Battle Cruiser Squadron.
The 2nd Battle Squadron, 1st Battle Cruiser Squadron, 3rd Cruiser
Squadron and Light Cruiser Squadron will be in a position in N. lat.
54° 10′ E. long. 3° 0′ at 7.30 a.m. ready to cut off retreat of enemy.
Should an engagement result your Flotillas and Light Cruisers must
endeavour to join our Fleet and deal with enemy Destroyers.
If the weather is too bad for Destroyers use Light Cruisers only and
send Destroyers back. Acknowledge.
All measures having been taken on the chance of their being necessary,
we awaited during thirty-six hours the events of Wednesday morning with
a doubting but expectant curiosity. On the morning of December 16 at
about half-past eight I was in my bath, when the door opened and an
officer came hurrying in from the War Room with a naval signal which I
grasped with dripping hand. ‘German battle-cruisers bombarding
Hartlepool.’ I jumped out of the bath with exclamations. Sympathy for
Hartlepool was mingled with what Mr. George Wyndham once called ‘the
anodyne of contemplated retaliation.’ Pulling on clothes over a damp
body, I ran downstairs to the War Room. The First Sea Lord had just
arrived from his house next door. Oliver, who invariably slept in the
War Room and hardly ever left it by day, was marking the positions on
the map. Telegrams from all the naval stations along the coast affected
by the attack, and intercepts from our ships in the vicinity speaking to
each other, came pouring in two and three to the minute. The Admiralty
also spread the tidings and kept the Fleets and flotillas continuously
informed of all we knew.
Everything was now sent to sea or set in motion. The 3rd Battle Squadron
(_King Edwards_) from the Forth was ordered to prevent the enemy
escaping to the Northward. As a further precaution, (though, unless the
Germans were driven far to the North, this could hardly be effective in
time,) the Grand Fleet itself was after all brought out. Commodore
Tyrwhitt and his cruisers and destroyers of the Harwich Striking Force
were directed to join Sir George Warrender, who commanded the Second
Battle Squadron, and was the senior Admiral with the intercepting force.
The weather was, however, too rough for the destroyers, and only the
light cruisers could proceed. Lastly, later in the day Commodore Keyes
who was in the _Lurcher_—one of our latest destroyers and had also with
him the destroyer _Firedrake_, was told to take his submarines from his
preliminary station off Terschelling into the Heligoland Bight and try
to catch the enemy returning.
The bombardment of open towns was still new to us at that time. But,
after all, what did that matter now? The war map showed the German
battle-cruisers identified one by one within gunshot of the Yorkshire
coast, while 150 miles to eastward _between them and Germany_, cutting
mathematically their line of retreat, steamed in the exact positions
intended, four British battle-cruisers and six of the most powerful
battleships in the world forming the 2nd Battle Squadron. Attended and
preceded by their cruiser squadrons and flotilla, this fleet of our
newest and fastest ships all armed with the heaviest gun then afloat,
could in fair weather cover and watch effectively a front of nearly 100
miles. In the positions in which dawn revealed the antagonists, only one
thing could enable the Germans to escape annihilation at the hands of an
overwhelmingly superior force. And while the great shells crashed into
the little houses of Hartlepool and Scarborough, carrying their cruel
message of pain and destruction to unsuspecting English homes, only one
anxiety dominated the thoughts of the Admiralty War Room.
The word ‘Visibility’ assumed a sinister significance. At present it was
quite good enough. Both Warrender and Beatty had horizons of nearly ten
miles: near the coast fighting was actually in progress at 7,000 yards.
There was nothing untoward in the weather indications. At 9 a.m. the
German bombardment ceased, and their ships were soon out of sight of
land, no doubt on their homeward voyage. We went on tenter-hooks to
breakfast. To have this tremendous prize—the German battle-cruiser
squadron whose loss would fatally mutilate the whole German Navy and
could never be repaired—actually within our claws, and to have the event
all turn upon a veil of mist, was a wracking ordeal. Meanwhile telegraph
and telephone were pouring the distress of Hartlepool and Scarborough to
all parts of the Kingdom, and by half-past ten, when the War Committee
of the Cabinet met, news magnified by rumour had produced excitement. I
was immediately asked how such a thing was possible. ‘What was the Navy
doing, and what were they going to do?’ In reply I produced the chart
which showed the respective positions at the moment of the British and
German naval forces, and I explained that subject to moderate visibility
we hoped that collision would take place about noon. These disclosures
fell upon all with a sense of awe, and the Committee adjourned till the
afternoon.
At 10.30 the Admiralty learned that the enemy was leaving our coasts and
apprised Admiral Warrender accordingly.
Enemy is probably returning towards Heligoland. You should keep outside
minefield and steer so as to cut him off.
But now already ominous telegrams began to arrive. Warrender soon had
horizons of only 7,000 yards; Beatty of only 6,000; some of the light
cruisers nearer to the coast already mentioned 5,000; and later on 4,000
was signalled. Meanwhile no contact. Noon passed, and then 1 o’clock.
The weather got steadily worse. It was evident that the mist curtains
were falling over the North Sea. 3,000 yards visibility, 2,000 yards
visibility were reported by ships speaking to each other. The solemn
faces of Fisher and Wilson betrayed no emotion, but one felt the fire
burning within. I tried to do other work, but it was not much good.
Obscure messages were heard from our fleet. Evidently they were very
close to the enemy, groping for him in a mist which allowed vessels to
be distinguished only within 2,000 yards. We heard Warrender order his
priceless ships to steam through the located German minefield off the
Yorkshire coast apparently in an endeavour to close with something just
out of sight, just beyond his finger-tips. Then all of a sudden we heard
Rear-Admiral Goodenough with the light cruisers report that he had
opened fire upon a German light cruiser at 3,000 yards. Hope flared up.
Once contact was established, would it not drag all other events in its
train? The prospect of a confused battle at close range had no terrors
for the Admiralty. They had only one fear—lest the enemy should escape.
Even the proposed movement of the 2nd Battle Squadron through the
minefield was received in utter silence.
About half-past one Sir Arthur Wilson said ‘They seem to be getting away
from us.’ But now occurred a new development of a formidable kind. At
1.50 we learned that the High Sea Fleet was at sea. Up till noon this
great Fleet had not spoken. Once she had spoken and the necessary
calculations had been made, which took some time, we could both
recognise and locate her. She had already in fact advanced far into the
North Sea. The apparition of the German Fleet, which as we then supposed
was advancing to the support of the German battle-cruisers, entirely
altered the balance of strength. Our ten great ships steaming together
with their light squadrons and flotillas, were not only the strongest
but the fastest naval force in the world. No equal German force existed
which could at once overtake and overcome them. On the other hand, they
were not capable of meeting the High Sea Fleet. The German battle
cruisers were still separated from their fleet by 150 miles, but it
seemed to us that a running action begun with the German battle
cruisers, might in the thick weather then prevailing conceivably lead to
a surprise encounter with the main naval power of the enemy. This was
certainly not the wish of the Admiralty. We instantly warned our
squadrons.
_Admiralty to 2nd Battle Squadron and 1st Battle Cruiser Squadron._
_Sent_ 1.50 p.m.
(Urgent.)
High Sea Fleet is out and was in latitude 54° 38′ N. longitude 5° 55′
E.[97] at 0.30 p.m. to-day, so do not go too far to Eastward.
These sinister possibilities soon faded like our earlier hopes. The High
Sea Fleet was not, as we imagined, coming out, but had long been out and
was now retiring.
At 3 o’clock I went over and told the War Committee what was passing;
but with what a heavy heart did I cross again that Horse Guards’ Parade.
I returned to the Admiralty. The War Group had reassembled around the
octagonal table in my room. The shades of a winter’s evening had already
fallen. Sir Arthur Wilson then said, in his most ordinary manner, ‘Well,
there you are, they have got away. They must be about here by now,’ and
he pointed to the chart on which the Chief of the Staff was marking the
positions every fifteen minutes. It was evident that the Germans had
eluded our intercepting force, and that even their light cruisers with
whom we had been in contact had also escaped in the mist. Said Admiral
Warrender in his subsequent report, ‘They came out of one rainstorm and
disappeared in another.’
It was now nearly 8 o’clock.
Was it then all over? I inquired about our submarines. They had already
been collected by Commodore Keyes from their first position and were now
moving on to the German line of retreat. But whether the enemy’s course
would come within their limited range was a matter of luck. Sir Arthur
Wilson then said, ‘There is only one chance now. Keyes with the
_Lurcher_ and _Firedrake_, is with the submarines. He could probably
make certain of attacking the German battle-cruiser squadron as it
enters the Bight to-night. He may torpedo one or even two.’ It seemed
indeed a forlorn hope to send these two frail destroyers, with their
brave Commodore and faithful crews, far from home, close to the enemy’s
coast, utterly unsupported, into the jaws of this powerful German force
with its protecting vessels and flotillas. There was a long silence. We
all knew Keyes well. Then some one said, ‘It is sending him to his
death.’ Some one else said, ‘He would be the last man to wish us to
consider that.’ There was another long pause. However, Sir Arthur Wilson
had already written the following message:—
8.12 p.m.
‘We think Heligoland and Amrun lights will be lit when ships are going
in. Your destroyers might get a chance to attack about 2 a.m. or later
on the line given you.’
The First Sea Lord nodded assent. The Chief-of-the-Staff took it, got up
heavily and quitted the room. Then we turned to the ordinary business of
the day and also to the decision of what could be told to the public
about the event.
Two days later when I received Admiral Keyes in my room at the
Admiralty, I said, ‘We sent you a terrible message the other night. I
hardly expected to see you again.’ ‘It _was_ terrible,’ he said, ‘not
getting it till I was nearly home. I waited three hours in the hopes of
such an order, and I very nearly did it on my own responsibility,’ and
he proceeded to reproach himself without need.[98]
* * * * *
So far I have described this episode of December 16 exactly as it
appeared from the War Room of the Admiralty, and as we understood it
at the time. But let us now see in essentials what had happened.[99]
No one could tell at what point on our shores the German attack would
fall; and with 500 miles of coast studded with possible objectives to
guard, there could be no certain solution. The orders issued by the
Commander-in-Chief, however, and the dawn position selected, ably
comprehended the design of the enemy. In pursuance of these orders the
2nd Battle Squadron (6 ships) and the Battle Cruiser Squadron (4
ships), together with the 3rd Cruiser Squadron, a Squadron of Light
Cruisers and a flotilla, steaming down from Scapa, Cromarty and the
Forth, arrived at about 5.30 in the morning of the 16th, two hours and
a half before daybreak, at the Southern edge of the Dogger Bank. Here
in the very centre of the North Sea, almost on a line drawn from
Hartlepool to Heligoland, the advanced screen of British destroyers
became engaged with German destroyers and light cruisers, and when
daylight came they sighted a large German cruiser identified as the
_Roon_.[100] Fighting ensued, some of our destroyers were hit, and the
Germans retreated to the Eastward. Thereupon Admiral Beatty with his
battle cruisers began to chase the _Roon_. From this pursuit he was
recalled by the news which reached him and Admiral Warrender from the
Admiralty about 9 a.m., that the German battle cruisers were
bombarding Hartlepool and later Scarborough. All the British ships at
once turned to the Westward and steamed abreast in a long line towards
the British coast and the German battle cruisers, whose interception
appeared highly probable.
During the war we were puzzled to understand what the _Roon_ and the
German light forces were doing on the edge of the Dogger Bank at this
hour in the morning. It was an ill-assorted force to be in so exposed a
position, and it was not a force or in a position, which could be of any
help to the German cruisers raiding the British coasts. Now we know the
answer. The _Roon_ and her cruisers and destroyers were part of the
advanced screen of the German High Sea Fleet who were out in full force,
three squadrons strong, with all their attendant vessels and numerous
flotillas. Admiral von Ingenohl in command of the High Sea Fleet had
sailed from Cuxhaven after darkness had fallen on the evening of the
15th (between 4 and 5 p.m.) and before dawn on the 16th was pushing
boldly out towards the Dogger Bank in support of his battle cruisers
who, under Admiral von Hipper were already approaching the British
shores. Had von Ingenohl continued on his course, as was his intention,
his scouts would between 8 and 9 o’clock, in the clear weather of that
morning in this part of the North Sea, have come in sight of the British
battle cruisers and the 2nd Battle Squadron coming down from the North.
A meeting was almost certain. What would have happened? Admiral von
Tirpitz proclaims that this was the one heaven-sent never-recurring
opportunity for a battle with the odds enormously in German favour. ‘On
December 16,’ he wrote a few weeks later, ‘Ingenohl had the fate of
Germany in the palm of his hand. I boil with inward emotion whenever I
think of it.’ We will examine this claim later. Let us first follow the
event.
Admiral von Ingenohl had already strained his instructions by going so
far to sea. An appeal by him against the ‘Muzzling Order,’ which the
Emperor had issued after the action of the Heligoland Bight (August 28),
had recently encountered a rebuff. ‘The Fleet must be held back and
avoid actions which might lead to heavy losses.’ Such had been the
latest _ukase_. And here was the Fleet right out in the middle of the
North Sea in the darkness of a December dawn. Suddenly the flashes of
guns, English destroyers reported in action with the cruisers of his
screen, the screen retiring, the destroyers pursuing—and still two hours
before daylight. Von Ingenohl conceived himself in danger of a torpedo
attack in darkness. At about 5.30 therefore he turned his whole Fleet
about and steamed off South-Eastward, and shortly after 6 o’clock,
increasingly disquieted by his hampering instructions, but knowing no
more of the presence of our squadrons than they of him, he, in the
justly chosen words of the British official historian, ‘fairly turned
tail and made for home, leaving his raiding force in the air.’ Even so,
at 6 o’clock the two Fleets were only about 50 miles apart and their
light forces in contact! Says Scheer, who was in command of the German
2nd Squadron (p. 71), ‘Our premature turning on to an East-South-East
course had robbed us of the opportunity of meeting certain divisions of
the enemy according to the pre-arranged plan, which is now seen to have
been correct.’
There was, however, no compulsion upon Admirals Warrender and Beatty to
fight such an action. Their squadrons were moving properly protected by
their screen of cruisers and destroyers. In this part of the sea and at
this hour the weather was quite clear. They would have known what forces
they were in presence of, before they could become seriously engaged.
There would not have been any justification for trying to fight the High
Sea Fleet of twenty battleships, with six battleships and four battle
cruisers, even though these comprised our most powerful vessels. Nor was
there any need. The British 2nd Battle Squadron could steam in company
at 20 knots, or could escape with Forced Draught at 21, and only six of
von Ingenohl’s ships could equal that speed. As for the battle cruisers,
nothing could catch them. The safety of this force acting detached from
the main British Fleet was inherent in its speed. Admirals Warrender and
Beatty could therefore have refused battle with the German Fleet, and it
would certainly have been their duty to do so. Still having regard to
the large numbers of destroyers at sea with the German Fleet and the
chances of darkness and weather, the situation at this juncture, as we
now know it to have been, gives cause for profound reflection. That it
never materialised unfavourably was the reward of previous audacity. The
sixteenth of December lay under the safeguard of the twenty-eighth of
August.
We now enter upon the second phase of this extraordinary day. All four
British squadrons with their flotilla between 9 and 10 o’clock were
steaming towards the British coasts. The German raiding cruisers, having
finished their bombardments, were now seeking to return home with the
utmost speed. There were two large minefields which had been laid
earlier in the war by the Germans off the Yorkshire coast, and we,
having located them and considering them as a protection against
raiding, had improved them by laying additional mines. Between these
minefields there was opposite Whitby and Scarborough a gap about fifteen
miles wide. Sir John Jellicoe, reflecting upon the whole position from
the _Iron Duke_ from afar, formed the opinion that the enemy would
either try to escape to the Northward by steaming up our coast inside
the minefield or, much more probably, would come straight out Eastward
through the gap opposite Whitby and Scarborough. He had ordered the 3rd
Battle Squadron from the Forth to close the gap to the Northward and
this was rapidly being effected. At 10.10 he signalled to Sir George
Warrender telling him the position of the gap in the minefields opposite
Whitby and adding ‘Enemy will in all probability come out there.’
Admirals Warrender and Beatty were already proceeding on this
assumption, which in fact correctly divined what the Germans were doing.
At 11 o’clock, therefore, the four German battle cruisers, with their
light cruisers returning independently 60 miles ahead of them, were
steaming due East for Heligoland at their highest speed. At the same
time all our four squadrons were steaming due West in a broad sweep
directly towards them. The distance between the fleets was about 100
miles, and they were approaching each other at an aggregate speed of
over 40 miles an hour. Across the course of our fleet lay the South-West
patch of the Dogger Bank on which there was not enough water for battle
cruisers, either British or German. The British sweeping line therefore
divided—Beatty and the light cruisers going North of the patch.
Warrender with the battleships and the 3rd Cruiser Squadron going South
of it. This involved a certain detour and delay in our advance. The
weather, moreover, became very bad. The mist descended and the sea ran
high. The German light cruisers were now sighted by our Light Cruiser
Squadron scouting ahead of Beatty through the driving mist and
rainstorms. The _Southampton_, the most Southerly light cruiser, opened
fire and was answered by the enemy. Hopes on board the _Lion_ rose. Just
at the place and just at the moment when they might expect it, was the
enemy’s cruiser screen. Clearly the main body was behind them: probably
it was not far behind. But now Mischance intervened.
The other three British light cruisers, seeing the _Southampton_ engaged
to the Southward, turned in that direction to join in the fight and the
_Birmingham_ opened fire. This was not in accordance with the wishes of
Admiral Beatty, who wished to keep his scouts in front of him at the
time when he must expect to be closely approaching the enemy’s battle
cruisers, and when the danger of missing them was so great. He therefore
ordered his light cruisers to return to their stations. The signal,
instead of being directed by name to the 2 vessels who were not engaged,
was made general to the Light Cruiser Squadron, and acting on this order
the _Southampton_ and _Birmingham_ both broke off their action with the
German cruiser and resumed their places in the line. The German light
cruisers turned off to the Southward and vanished in the mist. Contact
with them was thus lost.
Meanwhile, however, the battle cruisers on both sides continued rapidly
to approach each other. At 12.15 Admiral von Hipper warned by his light
cruisers that an enemy force was immediately in front of him, also
turned slightly and to the South-East. Admiral Beatty continued on his
course till 12.30. At this moment the two battle cruiser forces were
only 25 miles apart and still rapidly closing.[101] But now again
Mischance! The German light cruisers, deflected away to the Southward
from Beatty, came into contact with the 3rd Cruiser Squadron in front of
Warrender. Fire again was opened and returned, and again the enemy
cruisers were lost in the thick mist. They reported to von Hipper that
on this path also was a blocking force. Thereupon at 12.45 he made ‘a
three-quarters left about turn’ (if I may employ a cavalry term), and
dodged off due North. This by itself would not have saved him. Had
Admiral Beatty held on his original course for another quarter of an
hour, an action at decisive ranges must have begun before 1 o’clock. But
observe what had happened.
[Illustration:
OPERATIONS OF
December 16, 1914.
]
At 12.30 Admiral Beatty had received a signal from Sir George Warrender
at the moment of the second contact with the German light cruisers,
‘Enemy cruisers and destroyers in sight.’ He therefore concluded that
the German battle cruisers had slipped past him to the Southward, and
acting in addition on the sound principle of keeping between the enemy
and the enemy’s home at all costs, he too whipped round and steamed back
on his course, i.e., Eastward, for three-quarters of an hour. At 1.15,
hearing that the enemy battle cruisers had turned North, he too turned
North; but contact was never re-established. Von Hipper succeeded in
escaping round the Northern flank of our squadrons. His light cruisers,
so thick was the weather, made their way through the 3rd Cruiser
Squadron, passing for a few moments actually in sight of Warrender’s
battleships.
Thus ended this heart-shaking game of Blind Man’s Buff.
It remains only to mention the action of our British submarines. By 3.30
Commodore Keyes had collected four of his boats from their station
submerged off Terschelling, and in accordance with Admiralty orders was
making for the Heligoland Bight. Eventually he succeeded in placing
three boats on the Southern side of Heligoland and one on the Northern.
This solitary boat, under Commander Nasmith, on the morning of the 17th
found itself in the middle of Von Hipper’s squadron and flotillas
returning from their raid and fired two torpedoes at battle cruisers
under very difficult conditions and without effect.
Such was the episode of the Scarborough and Hartlepool raids. All that
we could tell the public was contained in the following communiqué which
was issued in the morning papers of December 17.
_Admiralty, December 16_, 9.20 p.m.
This morning a German cruiser force made a demonstration upon the
Yorkshire coast, in the course of which they shelled Hartlepool,
Whitby, and Scarborough.
A number of their fastest ships were employed for this purpose, and
they remained about an hour on the coast. They were engaged by the
patrol vessels on the spot.
As soon as the presence of the enemy was reported, a British
patrolling squadron endeavoured to cut them off. On being sighted by
British vessels the Germans retired at full speed, and, favoured by
the mist, succeeded in making good their escape.
The losses on both sides are small, but full reports have not yet been
received.
The Admiralty take the opportunity of pointing out that demonstrations
of this character against unfortified towns or commercial ports,
though not difficult to accomplish provided that a certain amount of
risk is accepted, are devoid of military significance.
They may cause some loss of life among the civil population and some
damage to private property, which is much to be regretted; but they
must not in any circumstances be allowed to modify the general naval
policy which is being pursued.
Naturally there was much indignation at the failure of the Navy to
prevent, or at least to avenge, such an attack upon our shores. What was
the Admiralty doing? Were they all asleep? Although the bombarded towns,
in which nearly five hundred civilians had been killed and wounded,
supported their ordeal with fortitude, dissatisfaction was widespread.
However, we could not say a word in explanation. We had to bear in
silence the censures of our countrymen. We could never admit for fear of
compromising our secret information where our squadrons were, or how
near the German raiding cruisers had been to their destruction. One
comfort we had. The indications upon which we had acted had been
confirmed by events. The sources of information upon which we relied
were evidently trustworthy. Next time we might at least have average
visibility. But would there be a next time? The German Admiral must have
known that he was very near to powerful British ships, but which they
were, or where they were, or how near he was, might be a mystery. Would
it not also be a mystery how they came to be there? On the other hand,
the exultation of Germany at the hated English towns being actually made
to feel for the first time the real lash of war might encourage a second
attempt. Even the indignation of our own newspapers had a value for this
purpose. One could only hope for the best. Meanwhile British naval plans
and secrets remained wrapped in impenetrable silence.