German submarines, which were to the starboard, she pounded after the
great cruisers, and her great shells began to fall in a shower upon the
_Blücher_, which, being the slowest ship, was at the tail of the German
line. Not only the _Lion_, but practically every British ship poured in
smashing salvoes. They fell upon her thick as hailstones, sweeping her
decks, crashing into her sides, smashing upon her guns and wrenching
them from their turrets, disabling whole gun crews. Funnels were sent
toppling over, masts fell; a shell pitched in the very heart of the
ship, where a large number of men were gathered, and killed them all.
Her armoured sides were riddled through and through; she was on fire;
but she still kept up her replies with the guns left her, and her men
cheered as they fought, although they knew they were fighting a losing
battle. Instructions had been given that the flag was not to be struck,
and that she was to go down with it flying. Within half an hour of the
opening of the battle 300 or 400 men were killed or wounded. She was
an unforgettable sight. She turned to port, to give her men a chance to
put out the fire, but after awhile swung back and made after the other
ships.
Without waiting to see the result of their attack on the _Blücher_,
the British big ships pounded on their way after the other vessels. A
devastating cyclone of shells fell upon the _Derfflinger_, which caught
fire forward and had many guns put out of action, while the _Seydlitz_
or the _Moltke_ steamed on like a sheet of flame. The roar of the guns,
the crash of the explosions, the thunder of the great engines of war as
they romped through the seas, the flashes of fire as shells left the
maws of the terrific weapons--all went to make up a scene of horror,
of impressiveness. It was a battle between rival giants at giants’
distance, while simultaneously another battle was raging between the
smaller cruisers and torpedo craft. There is no doubt that one reason
why the Germans chose a running fight was that they hoped to be able
to lure their pursuers into the minefield round about Heligoland.
But, after chasing them for about a hundred miles, Admiral Beatty,
realising that it was hopeless to catch them before they reached the
field, turned back from the great cruisers and set his attention upon
the smaller ships, seeking to turn them off, drive them down upon the
British cruisers which were in hot pursuit. He did great damage amongst
them, despite the difficulty of the work, there being so many ships
engaged. Though many of them were very seriously mauled, they succeeded
in getting to the minefield--with guns dismounted and hulls battered.
About 11 o’clock the _Lion_ had her speed reduced very considerably,
owing to a chance shot that had caught her in the bows and damaged her
feed-tank, putting her port engines out of action. Admiral Beatty
therefore changed his flag to a destroyer, and, later, to the _Princess
Royal_, which then took the foremost place in the fight. The _Lion_,
whose starboard engine also got out of working order later, and had
only one engine working, was shielded by the _Tiger_, which pluckily
placed herself in the way of the enemy’s fire, and in doing so lost
half a dozen of her men, though she gave the Germans a good battering
in return. The _Lion_ was then taken in tow by the _Indomitable_, and
eventually taken into port. An eye-witness on the _Tiger_ told of the
part the _Tiger_ played in this thrilling action between big ships:
“On the gun-deck, where I was stationed, you could hardly see one
another for the smoke, but our chaps stuck it like Britons. They did
work hard; but they did it with a good heart, and I believe at one time
our ship was engaging three of the enemy’s ships. Four of their ships
were on fire, but they could still keep on firing, and I believe one or
two of our poor chaps who got on deck to have a look at them did not
live long. I myself was very anxious to go on deck and have a look, but
I am glad I did not. I saw the start, and then went below. We lost ten
of our chaps, and several were wounded.
“A message came down from the deck, ‘All hands on deck to see the
enemy’s ship sink,’ and in less than five minutes after we could see
nothing of her, and our destroyers drew near to pick up survivors.
“Our ship at one time stood all the brunt of the firing, as we
sheltered the leading ship in our line when she got winged. Still,
thank goodness for everything, we are still alive and happy. I do not
think they will want to meet us again.”
Meanwhile, the _Blücher_ was living her last moments. Suddenly, while
the Germans’ guns were pounding away, there slipped from behind
the bigger ships the saucy _Arethusa_, intent on finishing the work
thus well begun. The _Blücher_, being wounded almost to the death,
had no way upon her, and offered a fine mark to torpedo. Commodore
Tyrwhitt, of the _Arethusa_, knowing this, gave instructions, and, as
the _Blücher_ fired her remaining guns in rapid succession, a couple
of torpedoes sped through the seas towards her. The second caught her
amidships, exploded, and rent a great gap in her. Listing already,
she now simply heeled over “like a tin can filled with water,” as one
eye-witness put it.
It was a dramatic moment, crowded with heroism. Her flag was still
flying, and her men were crying, “Hoch! Hoch!” as they lined the side
of the vessel, ready to jump clear. From the _Arethusa_ there came the
cry of “Jump!” and almost at the same time hundreds of men leaped into
the water, most of them equipped with inflated rubber lifebelts, which
kept them afloat until the boats lowered by the English picked them up.
While the British tars were employed in this humane work there swung
out from Heligoland an airship and a seaplane, which hovered over the
rescuing boats and dropped bombs. Such methods naturally aroused the
anger of the British, who promptly, for their own sakes, had to give
up the work of rescue, and leave many struggling Germans to find death
when they might have had life.
The _Indomitable_, before she took the _Lion_ in tow, had her share of
the fighting, as had the other battle cruisers. After having tackled
the _Seydlitz_, she was attacked by a Zeppelin which dropped a bomb
about forty yards away from her bridge. The _Indomitable_ gave her a
taste of shrapnel, as did the _Tiger_, and she cleared off. Then a
torpedo was launched at the _Indomitable_ by the _Blücher_; but the
speed of the British ship saved her.
In addition to the _Blücher_ sunk, other ships suffered considerable
damage, as we have seen. Previously one of them had been engaged by
the light cruiser _Aurora_, which opened a terrific fire upon her. The
first shot carried the midship funnel clean away, and others, poured in
rapidly, swept the decks and battered her hull, so that she was soon
in a deplorable condition and was fleeing at top speed for the safety
of harbour. Only the proximity of the minefield and the accident to
the _Lion_ “deprived the British fleet of a greater victory.” It was
not until the foremost cruiser, the _Derfflinger_, was within half an
hour’s run of the mined area that Admiral Beatty gave up the chase,
well pleased with the work that had been done.
It had been a great fight and a brilliant victory; it had shown that
the British Navy was true to its traditions, that it could fight as
well as exert silent pressure upon the foe; that the commanders were
fearless men, and that the men behind the guns knew how to handle their
great weapons. The feature that stands out most prominently is the
accuracy of the British fire as contrasted with that of the German; in
the latter case shots seemed to fall anywhere but on the British ships,
as is clear when the only casualties were seventeen men wounded on the
_Lion_, one officer and nine men killed, and two officers and eight men
wounded on the _Tiger_; and four men killed and one man wounded on the
_Meteor_, which ship was attacked by the Zeppelin, while none of the
ships were at all badly damaged, and would be ready for sea again in a
few days.
A fine victory, well won, and at little cost!
THE MEN WHO DISCOVERED THE WORLD
Stories of the Early Voyagers
It is difficult for us who live in these days of swift travel, wireless
telegraphy, palatial ships, and so forth, to realise what it meant
to go a-voyaging in the Middle Ages and thereabouts. Then men set
out chartless, at one time compassless, in ships which were mere
cockle-boats, to traverse unknown seas (there are no unknown seas
to-day!) in quest of new lands, not knowing really whether there were
any new lands to discover. They went, as it were, into the darkness of
the unknown, with all its terrors and dangers; and going, discovered
the world.
Tradition had it that out in the Atlantic were some islands called
by the ancients the Fortunate Islands; and the thirst for wider
geographical knowledge came with the discovery of these, and the
discovery of Madeira, in the fifteenth century; and out of the mists of
the legends there shone elusive islands which, though men sought, they
could not find. Then, as men grew bolder, and travelled overland to
Cathay, or China, to bring back wonderful stories, with all the glamour
of the East about them, Europeans cried for more and more light upon
the world beyond Europe.
And the age of discovery began.
In the mind of every voyager was the one great objective--Cathay. But
the way there? One school said westwards; the other said that only by
circumnavigating the coasts of Africa could Cathay be reached. We know
now, as they discovered after many, many years, that both routes led
to the East, but that in between Europe and Asia, via the West, lay a
mighty continent of whose existence they had never dreamed; and which,
when they did discover it, they thought was Asia.
We cannot go into details of the many voyages which were undertaken
both to the south and the west; we must content ourselves with the
first voyage round the Cape of Good Hope, the first sea trip to China,
and the first voyage of the great Columbus.
[Illustration: “A mighty gale caught Diaz and carried his frail craft
before it”]
It fell to the lot of Bartholomew Diaz to achieve the first of these
great epoch-marking events in the world’s history. Many men, under the
patronage of Prince Henry the Navigator, of Portugal, had passed along
the African coast, and by 1484 Diego Cam had partly explored the Congo;
but two years later Diaz, heedless of the fears and warnings of his
crew, sailed past the Congo, with the firm determination to get into
the Indian Ocean, or at least to pass the extremity of Africa, if there
were an extremity. Of that no one was sure. Diaz went round that point
without knowing it; a mighty storm caught him, and carried his frail
ship before it, and when the gale passed over Diaz found himself off a
coast which trailed away eastwards and ever eastwards. His men, fearful
of they knew not what, beseeched him to turn back, but for several days
Diaz held on his way. This eastward trend of the coast meant something,
though what it was he could not say. At last the crew refused to go
any farther; the unknown held too many terrors for them, and they
considered they had done sufficient. They had gone farther, they knew,
than any mariners before them. Why keep on at the risk of being
lost? So Diaz had reluctantly to give way. He turned his vessel round,
passed down the coast, going southward, with the land on his right--to
him a significant fact. He realised its full significance later when,
passing a great promontory, which, because of the storms that prevailed
there, he called the Cape of Storms, he found the land still on his
right, while the ship was sailing northwards. He had been round Africa!
Promptly Diaz landed, and, as was the custom, erected a pillar in the
name of the King of Portugal, and thus laid claim to the new land he
had discovered. Then home he went, full of joy at his achievement, to
receive a mighty welcome at Court when he had told his story. The name
of the southernmost cape thus discovered was renamed the Cape of Good
Hope; and thus it has been known ever since.
One would have thought that this voyage would have spurred on other
voyagers to follow in the track thus laid down; but for some reason or
other it was ten years before an expedition was dispatched to carry it
farther and try to reach Cathay by that route. Vasco da Gama was the
leader of this expedition, which left the Tagus on July 7, 1497, five
years after Columbus had set out for the unknown West. It consisted
of three ships, which became separated soon after starting, only to
meet at Cape Verde Islands. Then for four months they fought their way
through storms until they reached St. Helena, where, although they were
badly in need of provisions, they could get none, because the natives
were so unfriendly. So southward they went, and at last came to the
Cape of Good Hope, which it took them two days to sail round, owing to
the terrific storm that raged. The crew, terrified at the tumultuous
seas, prayed da Gama to turn back.
“We cannot pass this awful cape!” they cried.
“If God preserve us,” answered da Gama boldly, “we will pass the cape
and make our way to Cathay. For that honour will be given us, and we
shall get much wealth.”
But, though he thus appealed to their cupidity, the crew were not to
be calmed; and their dissatisfaction gave rise to conspiracy. They
intended to mutiny, and force da Gama to turn back, or else kill him
out of hand, and then do what they wanted to do.
Da Gama, however, received information of the plot from some of the men
who were still faithful to him, and were willing to follow him where
he would lead. Knowing that stern measures would be necessary now that
softer ones had failed, da Gama plotted on his own account. He had each
man brought into his cabin to discuss the matter, and as soon as a head
showed inside the door the man was seized and put in irons. In this way
every one of the dissatisfied men was taken prisoner; and da Gama found
himself left with a mere handful of men to work the ship. Yet did he
persist in going on; he would not be deterred, and, though all worked
hard in face of what they thought was certain death, yet they weathered
the cape, and presently were on the way up the east coast of Africa.
Then da Gama freed his prisoners, who were shamefaced as they came on
deck, to find themselves in this new sea, safely past the storm they
had feared.
On Christmas Day, after having been in at various places, da Gama
came to Natal, named thus in honour of the Nativity, broke up one of
his ships there, as she was unseaworthy, and then went on, reaching
Mozambique on March 10. Here he met trouble again. Mozambique was in
the possession of the Moors, who did a fine trade with the Indies and
the Red Sea, and, naturally, resented the intrusion of the Portuguese.
They saw their trade being taken from them. They therefore did all
they could to destroy or capture the intrepid voyagers, who, however,
outwitted them every time. At each place where they put in they fell
foul of the Moors, until they reached Melinda, where they were received
with honour, and were able to secure as many provisions as they wanted.
Da Gama, always with his eyes open to discover what commercial
advantages were to be gained from his voyage, saw with delight that at
Melinda there were many large ships which bore the riches of India in
their holds; and, realising that that meant much to Portugal, as soon
as the monsoons would allow him, hurried on his way across the Indian
Ocean, having secured the services of a good native pilot. On May
20, 1498, the two ships reached Calicut--the first vessels which had
arrived in India by the direct sea route.
It was an epoch-marking accomplishment, for it opened up the Far
East to Europe in a way that had not been done before; trade could
be carried on much more easily than by the overland route, with its
many dangers. All the riches of the East--spices, peppers, and what
not--were to be had by the Portuguese now. The commercial importance of
the voyage was greater than that of any voyage yet undertaken, for even
that of Columbus had not begun to bear the fruit it was to bear later
on.
Da Gama, however, found that things were not so rosy as they had
seemed; the Moors held the trade of Calicut in their hands. It was the
trading centre of the merchants of Ceylon and the Moluccas--indeed, of
all the Malabar coast--and the Moors there, like those at Mozambique,
feared the coming of the Europeans. When they discovered that da Gama
had obtained permission from the zamorin, or native chief, to trade,
they plotted for his destruction, inducing the zamorin to take him
prisoner and capture his ships, telling him that these white men would
surely come in their hundreds and take possession of his territory. Of
course, the native viewed the prospect with anything but pleasure, and
when da Gama, laden with rich gifts, landed, he tried to capture him.
Da Gama, however, slipped through his fingers, reached his ships, and
sailed away, vowing to return and to take vengeance.
Leaving Calicut in a rage, the voyager traded with another chief at
Cannanore, and, having laden his vessels with rich spices and peppers,
set out on the return voyage, reaching Lisbon in September, 1499; and
the whole nation went wild with delight at the glorious vista opened to
it.
Da Gama went back to Calicut later on to take his revenge. He allied
the King of Cannanore with him, and wrought havoc with the zamorin’s
trading vessels; then sailed to Cochin China, where he established a
factory--the first factory in the East, and the beginning of Portuguese
power in the Orient.
We must now go back a few years, and glance at the story of the first
voyage of Columbus, the man who stands out as a landmark in the history
of the world. He marks the beginning of the new geographical knowledge;
the old world is one side of him, the new the other. For years he had
been studying all the maps and charts that he could get hold of, and
had imbibed the new knowledge that was being taught regarding the
shape of the earth, until at last he came to believe that Asia could
be reached by sailing to the west. He tried this Court and that, only
to receive rebuffs and meet with delays that sickened him. He sent
his brother Bartholomew to the King of England; but his messenger was
captured by pirates, and when he was released, and proceeded on his
way to the English Court, where his proposal was accepted, it was too
late; Christopher Columbus had set forth upon his venture perilous,
under the patronage of Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, who, after
much vacillation, and not a little treachery, had agreed to father the
expedition, which consisted of three small vessels. These were the
_Santa Maria_, on which Columbus himself sailed, the _Pinta_, commanded
by Martin Alonzo Pinzon, and the _Nina_, captained by Pinzon’s brother,
Vincente Yanez Pinzon.
After receiving the blessing of the Church, the expedition set sail
from Palos with a pressed crew, for few men could be found willing
to embark on such a desperate venture. In less than a week they were
compelled to put in at the Canaries to refit the ships, which had been
buffeted about by adverse winds and stormy seas. When this work was
done, Columbus set out again, despite the murmurings of his pressed
crew, who often cast longing eyes back to the East, hardly daring
to think of what might await them in the West, whither men had not
ventured before. The unknown held dread terrors for them, and at
every league they became more disaffected, so that Columbus found it
necessary to keep two reckonings--one correct, for himself, and the
other incorrect, for the satisfaction of the crews. His own showed the
real distance from home; theirs showed them that they were nearer home
than they had imagined themselves to be.
Two hundred leagues west of the Canaries a ship’s mast was seen
floating, and the frightened crews became more scared than ever; they
took it for a portent of their own fate. Then the needle of the compass
showed a variation; it ceased to point to the North Star, and this
was the most dreadful thing of all to these men, who knew nothing of
hemispheres. Columbus did his utmost to cheer and inspire them with
confidence, telling them of the glory that awaited them when the voyage
was over, and assuring them that they could not be a very long way
from land. As if to prove him true, next day, September 14, two birds
hovered round the ships; later weeds were seen floating on the surface
of a kind that grow on river banks and among rocks; then, later still,
more birds were seen--birds that they knew never slept on the sea. And
all these things seemed to be heralds of land.
So the dissatisfied crew took heart again, and, with a steady breeze
helping them, the ships sped on their unknown way, every man eagerly
looking out across the vast sea in the hope of being the first to sight
the land, the reward for which was to be a pension.
But as day succeeded day, and no land was seen, the spirits of the
adventurers drooped, and when they ran into a vast sea of weeds, which
made it difficult for the vessels to hold on their way, all hopes of
ever reaching home again were dashed to the ground. Then the wind
dropped, and the ships were becalmed. Never did Fate play so scurvy a
trick with a mariner as it did with Columbus, who knew that the success
of his voyage--the great ambition of his life--depended upon the men
who sailed with him. He heard their murmurings, knew that it would not
be long before they broke out into open mutiny; but still he would not
swerve from his purpose.
Then one day they came to him with determination in their eyes and
black murder in their hearts. They would go back, they said; they would
venture no farther on this mad voyage which could lead to nowhere but
death. They had, indeed, made up their minds to pitch him overboard if
he would not turn the ship about and go home.
Columbus, firm in his own belief that land lay to the west, and
determined that he would not turn back until he had seen it, stood
before the mutineers boldly. He argued with them, coaxed them, even
bullied them, vowed he would hold on to the course he had mapped out.
Then, seeing that he must temporise, he promised that, if they would
stand by him for three more days, he would turn back if no land were
discovered. He gained his point; the crew returned to their duties,
and, by the greatest good luck, shortly afterwards new signs of land
came to cheer the men.
Besides a quantity of fresh weeds, such as grow in rivers, they saw a
green fish of a kind that keeps about rocks, then a branch of thorn
with berries on it, and recently separated from the tree, floated by
them. Then they picked up a reed, a small board, and, above all, a
staff, artificially carved.
And where there had been mutiny and threats there was now discipline
and rejoicing; and no man murmured, or thought of the distance they
had come. All were eager to be the first to catch sight of the land
they believed to be near. Columbus himself, overwhelmed with joy at the
thought that triumph was at hand, did not sleep that night, and had
the ships hove to, lest they miss the land in the night darkness. On
each vessel every man was wide awake, straining his eyes through the
darkness. At about one o’clock Columbus thought that he saw a light
shining in the west, far away from the ships. He immediately pointed
it out to; the men on his vessel; but with one exception they attached
little importance to it. They thought themselves fools when, an hour
later, a sailor cried:
“Land! Land!” And, pointing, showed them a dim outline on the horizon.
Daylight came, and with it clearer vision; and before them stretched a
low, tree-covered island.
The sight of it drove them almost wild with joy. Here, after weeks of
voyaging through seas unknown, they had come to land, when they had
told themselves there was no land to be found, when they had harboured
thoughts of murder against the man who led them. They threw themselves
on deck at his feet, and implored his forgiveness; and Columbus knew
that he had these men fast in his grip, that they would follow him
anywhere.
As for himself, his pleasure knew no bounds; all the dreams of the
years were to be fulfilled, all his hopes were to be realised, the
glory of reaching Asia via the west was to be his. Had he but known!
Had he but realised that something even greater than this had been
achieved; that near at hand lay a vast continent undreamt of by his
fellows, despite the tradition that the Norsemen had hundreds of years
before found a country to the west, far north from this spot.
On October 12, 1492, Columbus, in all the glory of his official robes
as representative of the majesty of Spain, landed on the island with
his men and the officials sent by the King to give authority to the
expedition. The Royal Standard of Spain was planted, and the adventurer
fell upon his knees, kissed the ground, and declared the land to belong
to the dominions of the Spanish sovereigns.