OUR FLEET TAKEN UNAWARES
The first news of the great naval battle, as generally happens in war,
was confused and distorted. It did not clearly show how the victory had
been gained by the one side, or what had brought defeat upon the other.
Only gradually did the true facts appear. The following account,
however, of the sudden attack made by the Germans upon the British Fleet
represents as near an approach as can ever be made, writing after
events, to the real truth:
On the fateful evening of September 1, it appears that the North Sea
Fleet lay peacefully at anchor off Rosyth, in the Firth of Forth. It
mustered sixteen battleships, four of them of the famous Dreadnought
class, and all powerful vessels. With it, and attached to it, was a
squadron of armoured cruisers eight ships strong, but no destroyers, as
its torpedo flotilla was taking part in the torpedo manœuvres in the
Irish Sea. Some excitement had been caused in the fleet by orders
received on the previous day, directing it to remain under steam ready
to put to sea at an hour’s notice. Officers and men had read the reports
in the papers announcing some friction with Germany, and had recalled
with ironical amusement certain speeches of the Premier, in which he had
declared that since his advent to power war was impossible between
civilised nations. On the morning of the First, however, the orders to
hold the fleet in readiness were cancelled, and Admiral Lord Ebbfleet
was instructed to wait at his anchorage the arrival of reinforcements
from the reserve divisions at the great naval ports. The Admiral had
reported some shortage of coal and ammunition, and had asked for further
supplies of both. A promise was made him that more coal should be sent
to Rosyth, but ammunition, he was told, it would be inconvenient and
unnecessary to forward at this juncture. There was no reason for
precipitation or alarm, a cipher telegram from Whitehall ran: Any sign
of either would irritate Germany and endanger the situation. He was
peremptorily enjoined to refrain from any act of preparation for war.
The estimates could not be exceeded without good reason, and the
necessary economies of the Admiralty had left no margin for unexpected
expenses. Even the commissioning of the reserve ships, he was told, was
not to be considered in any sense as pointing to the imminence of war;
it was merely a test of the readiness of the fleet.
This remarkable despatch and the series of telegrams which accompanied
it were produced at the Parliamentary investigation after the war, and
caused simple stupefaction. There was not a hint in them of the peril
which menaced the North Sea Fleet. Not the safety of England, but the
feelings of the enemy, were considered. And yet the same utter absence
of precautions had characterised the policy of the Government during the
Fashoda crisis, when Mr. Goschen indignantly denied to an approving
House of Commons the suggestion that the dockyards had been busy or that
special efforts to prepare for war had been needed. In the North Sea
crisis again, the safety of England had been left to chance, and the
British fleets carefully withdrawn from the waters of the North Sea, or
placed in a position of such weakness that their defeat was a
probability.
Lord Ebbfleet, the Admiral, however, was wiser than the Admiralty. There
were too many busybodies about, and the ships were too plainly under
observation, to make the full battle toilet. But all that afternoon his
crews were active in removing the woodwork, which could not,
unfortunately, be sent ashore or thrown into the water--that would have
caused excessive suspicion. He would personally have preferred to weigh
anchor and proceed to sea, but his instructions forbade this. A great
admiral at such a juncture might have disobeyed, and acted on his own
responsibility; but Lord Ebbfleet, though brave and capable, was not a
Nelson. Still, as well as he could, he made ready for war, and far into
the night the crews worked with a will.
Torpedo-nets were got out in all the large ships; the guns were loaded;
the watch manned and armed ship; the ships’ torpedo boats were hoisted
out and patrolled the neighbouring waters; all ships had steam up ready
to proceed to sea, though the Admiralty had repeatedly censured Lord
Ebbfleet for the heinous offence of wasting coal. Unhappily, the
fortifications on the Firth of Forth were practically unmanned and
dismantled. Many of the guns had been sold in 1906 to effect economies.
In accordance with the policy of trusting to luck and the kindness of
the Germans, in fear, also, of provoking Germany, no steps had been
taken to mobilise their garrisons. Under the latest scheme of defence
which the experts in London had produced, it had been settled that
fortifications were not needed to protect the bases used by the fleet.
The garrison artillery had gone--sacrificed to the demand for economy.
It was considered amply sufficient to man the works with mobilised
Volunteers when the need arose. That the enemy might come like a thief
in the night had seemingly not occurred to the Government, the House of
Commons, or the Army reformers.
Thus the Admiral had to trust entirely to his own ships and guns. The
very searchlights on the coast defences were not manned; everything
after the usual English fashion was left to luck and the last minute.
And, truth to tell, the pacific assurances of the Ministerial Press had
lulled anxiety to rest everywhere, save, perhaps, in the endangered
fleet. The nation wished to slumber, and it welcomed the leading
articles which told it that all disquietude was ridiculous.
It was equally disastrous that no destroyers accompanied the fleet. The
three North Sea flotillas of twenty-four boats were conducting exercises
in the Irish Sea, whither they had been despatched after the grand naval
manœuvres were over. No flotilla of destroyers, and not even a single
one of those worn-out, broken-down torpedo boats which the Admiralty had
persisted in maintaining as a sham defence for the British coast, was
stationed in the Forth. For patrol work the Admiral had nothing but his
armoured cruisers and the little launches carried in his warships, which
were practically useless for the work of meeting destroyers. The mine
defences on the coast had been abolished in 1905, with the promise that
torpedo boats and submarines should take their place. Unluckily, the
Admiralty had sold off the stock of mines for what it would fetch,
before it had provided either the torpedo boats or the submarines, and
now five years after this act of supreme wisdom and economy there was
still no mobile defence permanently stationed north of Harwich.
At nightfall six of the battleships’ steam torpedo boats were stationed
outside the Forth Bridge, east of the anchorage, to keep a vigilant
watch, while farther out to sea was the fast cruiser _Leicestershire_
with all lights out, in mid-channel, just under the island of Inchkeith.
Abreast of her and close inshore, where the approach of hostile torpedo
craft was most to be feared, were three small ships’ torpedo boats to
the north and another three to the south, so that, in all, twelve
torpedo boats and one cruiser were in the outpost line, to prevent any
such surprise as that of the Russian fleet at Port Arthur on the night
of February 8, 1904. Thus began this most eventful night in the annals
of the British Navy.
Hour after hour passed, while the lieutenants in charge of the torpedo
boats incessantly swept the horizon with night glasses; and on the
bridge of the _Leicestershire_ a small group of officers and signalmen
directed their telescopes and glasses out to sea. The great cruiser in
the darkness showed not a glimmer of light; gently her engines moved her
to and fro upon her beat; she looked through the blackness like a
monstrous destroyer herself; and as she went to and fro her guns were
always kept trained out seawards, with the watch ready. Towards 2 a.m.
the tide began to set strongly into the Forth, and at the same time the
weather became misty. Captain Cornwall, noting with uneasiness that the
horizon was becoming obscured, and that the field of vision was
narrowing, exclaimed to his fellow-watchers on the bridge that it was an
ideal night for destroyers--if they should come.
Barely had he spoken thus when he was called aft to the wireless
telegraphy instruments. Out of the night Hertzian waves were coming in.
The mysterious message was not in the British code; it was not in the
international code; and it bore no intelligible meaning. It was in no
language that could be recognised--was evidently a cipher. For two or
three minutes the recorder rattled off dots and dashes, and then the
aërial impulse ceased. Immediately, with a noise like the rattle of
pistol shots, the _Leicestershire’s_ transmitters began to send the news
of this strange signal back to the flagship at the anchorage. The
special tuning of the British instruments kept for fleet work would
prevent a stranger taking in her news.
While the _Leicestershire’s_ wireless instruments were signalling, a
steamer was made out approaching Inchkeith. From her build she was a
tramp; she carried the usual lights, and seemed to be heading for
Queensferry. A flashlight signal was made to her to ask her name and
nationality, and to direct her not to approach, as manœuvres were in
progress. She made not the faintest response to these signals--a by no
means unusual case with British and foreign merchant steamers. In the
dim light she looked to be of about 2500 tons displacement as she
steered straight for the _Leicestershire_. Captain Cornwall ordered one
of the inshore torpedo boats to proceed to her, and examine her, and
direct her, if she was not British, to go into Leith, thus taking upon
his shoulders the considerable responsibility of interfering with a
foreign ship in time of peace. But she paid no attention to the torpedo
boat. She was about 3000 yards off the _Leicestershire_ when the order
to the boat was given, and she had now approached within 1500 yards.
Disquieted by her proceedings, Captain Cornwall ordered one of the
3-pounders to fire a shot across her bow, and then, as this did not stop
her, followed it up with two shots from a 3-pounder directed against her
hull.
At the first shot across her bows she swung round, now little more than
a thousand yards away from the British cruiser, bringing her broadside
to bear. There was the noise of a dull report like the discharge of
torpedo tubes, as an instant later the 3-pounder shells struck her hull.
Immediately, at Captain Cornwall’s order, the _Leicestershire_ opened
fire with all her guns that would bear. Through the water came two
streaks of bubbles and foam, moving with lightning speed. One passed
right ahead of the _Leicestershire_; the other swept towards the British
cruiser’s stern; there was a heavy explosion; the whole hull of the
cruiser was violently shaken and lifted perceptibly up in the water; a
spout of water and smoke rose up astern, and the engines ceased to work.
The _Leicestershire_ had been torpedoed by the stranger.
The stranger caught the cruiser’s fire and reeled under it. The British
gunners took their revenge. The searchlights came on; four 7.5’s, in
less time than it takes to tell, planted shell after shell upon her
waterline, and the steamer began slowly to founder. Clouds of smoke and
steam rose from her; her engine was apparently disabled, and the British
launches closed about her to seize those of her crew that survived. In
ten minutes all was over. The steamer had disappeared, her side torn
open by a dozen 7.5-in. shells charged with lyddite. But the
_Leicestershire_ was in serious plight. The damage done by the German
torpedo was of the gravest nature. The British cruiser was heavily down
by the stern; her port engine and propeller would no longer revolve; two
compartments on the port quarter had filled, and water was leaking into
the port engine-room. Very slowly, with the help of the starboard
engine, Captain Cornwall took her in towards Leith and beached his ship
on the shoals near the new harbour.
The opening act had been cleverly thought out by the German staff. While
the torpedo boats were picking up the crew of the steamer, three
divisions of German torpedo craft, each six boats strong, had passed
into the Forth under the shadow of the northern coast. They glided like
shadows through the darkness, and they do not seem to have been seen by
the British vessels off Inchkeith, whose crews’ attention was riveted
upon the _Leicestershire_. A fourth division, moving rapidly in the
shadow of the southern coast, was seen by the _Leicestershire_ and by
the British launches about her and with her, and at once she opened fire
upon the dim forms. But, bereft of motive power, she could not use her
battery to advantage, and though it was thought that one of the
destroyers disappeared in the water, the others sped up the estuary,
towards the British fleet.
Warned by wireless telegraphy that destroyers had been sighted, the
British crews were on the _qui vive_. There was not time at this
eleventh hour to weigh and put out to sea; the only possible course was
to meet the attack at anchorage. The fleet was anchored off Rosyth, the
battleships in two lines ahead, headed by the flagships _Vanguard_ and
_Captain_. The _Vanguard_ and _Captain_, the leading ships in the
starboard and port lines respectively, were just abreast of the Beamer
Rock and Port Edgar. The seven armoured cruisers were moored in the St.
Margaret’s Hope Anchorage. To torpedo craft coming from the sea and
passing under the Forth Bridge, the fleet thus offered a narrow front,
and comparatively few of its guns would bear.
About 2.30 a.m. on Sunday morning, the lookout of the _Vanguard_
detected white foam, as from the bows of a destroyer, just under Battery
Point; a few seconds later, the same sign was seen to the south of
Inchgarvie, and as the bugles sounded and the 12-in. guns in the three
forward turrets of the British flagship opened, and the searchlights
played their steady glare upon the dark waters just under the Forth
Bridge, the forms of destroyers or torpedo boats fast approaching were
unmistakably seen.
In a moment the air trembled with the concussion of heavy guns; the
quick-firers of the fleet opened a terrific fire; and straight at the
battleships came eighteen German destroyers and large torpedo boats,
keeping perfect station, at impetuous speed. The sea boiled about them;
the night seemed ablaze with the flashing of the great guns and the
brilliant flame of exploding shells. Now one destroyer careened and
disappeared; now another flew into splinters, as the gunners sent home
their huge projectiles. Above all the din and tumult could be heard the
rapid hammering of the pom-poms, as they beat from the bridges with
their steady stream of projectiles upon the approaching craft.
Four destroyers went to the bottom in that furious onrush; ten entered
the British lines, and passed down them with the great ships on either
side, not more than 200 yards away, and every gun depressed as much as
it could be, vomiting flame and steel upon the enemy; the others turned
back. The thud of torpedo firing followed; but the boats amid that
tempest of projectiles, with the blinding glare of the searchlights in
their gunners’ eyes, aimed uncertainly. Clear and unforgettable the
figures of officers and men stood out of the blackness, as the
searchlights caught the boats. Some could be seen heaving heavy weights
overboard; others were busy at the torpedo tubes; but in the blaze of
light the pom-poms mowed them down, and tore the upper works of the
destroyers to flinders. Funnels were cut off and vanished into space; a
conning-tower was blown visibly away by a 12-in. shell which caught it
fairly, and as the smitten boat sank there was a series of terrific
explosions.
Fifth ship in the starboard British line from the _Vanguard_ lay the
great battleship _Indefatigable_, after the four “Dreadnoughts” one of
the four powerful units in the fleet. Four torpedoes were fired at her
by the German destroyers; three of the four missed her, two of them only
by a hair’s breadth, but the fourth cut through the steel net and caught
her fairly abreast of the port engine-room, about the level of the
platform deck. The Germans were using their very powerful 17.7-in.
Schwartzkopf torpedo, fitted with net-cutters, and carrying a charge of
265 lb. of gun-cotton, the heaviest employed in any navy, and nearly a
hundred pounds heavier than that of the largest British torpedo.
The effect of the explosion was terrific. Though the _Indefatigable_ had
been specially constructed to resist torpedo attack, her bulkheads were
not designed to withstand so great a mass of explosive, and the torpedo
breached the plating of the wing compartments, the wing passage, and the
coal-bunker, which lay immediately behind it. The whole structure of the
ship was shaken and much injured in the neighbourhood of the explosion,
and water began to pour through the shattered bulkheads into the port
engine-room.
The pumps got to work, but could not keep the inrush down; the ship
rapidly listed to the port side, and though “out collision mat” was
ordered at once, and a mat got over the huge, gaping hole in the
battleship’s side, the water continued to gain. Slipping her anchors, at
the order of the Admiral, the _Indefatigable_ proceeded a few hundred
yards with her starboard screw to the shelving, sandy beach of Society
Bank, where she dropped aground. Had the harbour works at Rosyth been
complete, the value of them to the nation at this moment would have been
inestimable, for there would have been plenty of time to get her into
the dock which was under construction there. But in the desire to effect
apparent economies the works since 1905 had been languidly pushed.
The calamities of the British fleet did not end with the torpedoing of
the _Indefatigable_. A few seconds later some object drifting in the
water, probably a mine--though in the confusion it was impossible to say
what exactly happened--struck the _Resistance_ just forward of the fore
barbette. It must have drifted down inside the torpedo nets, between the
hull and the network. There was an explosion of terrific violence, which
rent a great breach in the side of the ship near the starboard fore
torpedo tube, caused an irresistible inrush of water, and compelled her
captain also to slip his anchors and beach his ship.
Two of the British battle squadron were out of action in the space of
less than five minutes from the opening of fire.
Already the shattered remnants of the German torpedo flotilla were
retiring; a single boat was steaming off as fast as she had come, but
astern of her four wrecks lay in the midst of the British fleet devoid
of motive power, mere helpless targets for the guns.
As they floated in the glare of the searchlights with the water
sputtering about them, in the hail of projectiles, first one and then
another, and finally all four, raised the white flag. Four German boats
had surrendered; four more had been seen to sink in the midst of the
fleet; one was limping slowly off under a rain of shells from the
smaller guns of the _Vanguard_.
The British cruiser _Londonderry_ was ordered to slip and give chase to
her, and steamed off in pursuit down the Forth. A caution to “beware of
mines” was flashed by the Admiral, and was needed. The German destroyers
must have carried with them, and thrown overboard in their approach, a
large number of these deadly agents, which were floating in all
directions, greatly hampering the _Londonderry_ in her chase.
But with the help of her searchlights she picked her way past some
half-dozen mines which were seen on the surface, and she was so
fortunate as not to strike any of those which had been anchored in the
channel. Gathering speed, she overhauled the damaged destroyer. The crew
could offer little resistance to the guns of a powerful cruiser.
A few shots from the three-pounders and a single shell from one of the
_Londonderry’s_ 7.5’s did the work. The German torpedo boat began to
sink by the stern; her engines stopped; her rudder was driven by the
explosion of the big projectile over to starboard, and the impulse of
the speed at which she was travelling brought her head round towards the
British vessel. The boat was almost flush with the water as one of her
crew raised the white flag, and the fifth German boat surrendered.
The prisoners were rescued from the water with shaken nerves and quaking
limbs, as men who had passed through the Valley of the Shadow of Death,
who had endured the hail of shells and faced the danger of drowning.
So soon as the survivors of that most daring and gallant attack had been
recovered from the water, and possession had been taken of the battered
hulls in which they had made their onset, the Admiral ordered his
torpedo launches to drag the channel for mines.
And while the dragging was proceeding, the prisoners were taken on board
the flagship and interrogated. They would disclose little other than the
fact that, according to them, war had been already declared. The ship
which had attacked the _Leicestershire_, they said, was a tramp fitted
for mine-laying and equipped with three torpedo tubes. Half of them were
more or less seriously wounded; all admitted that the slaughter on board
their boats caused by the British fire had been terrific. One lieutenant
stated that all the men at one of his torpedo tubes had been mown down
twice by the hail of small shells from the pom-poms, while a 12-in.
shell which had hit the stern of his boat had blown it completely away.
Yet the remnant of the boat had still floated.
Lord Ebbfleet surveyed the scene with rueful eyes. The _Indefatigable_
and _Resistance_, two of his powerful battleships, were out of action,
and could take no more part in operations for weeks. The
_Leicestershire_ was in the same plight. From sixteen battleships his
force had fallen to fourteen; his armoured cruiser squadron was reduced
from eight ships to seven. To remain in the anchorage without destroyers
and torpedo boats to keep a lookout would be to court further torpedo
attacks, and perhaps the even more insidious danger from German
submarines, and might well imperil the safety of the British reserve
ships. Only one course remained--to weigh and proceed to sea,
endeavouring to pass south to meet the reserve ships.
Efforts to communicate his intention to the Admiralty failed. The roar
of firing had awakened Leith and Edinburgh; people were pouring into the
streets to know what this strange and sudden commotion meant, and what
was the cause of the storm.
The windows at Queensferry had been shattered; the place was shaken as
by a great earthquake. The three heavy bursts of firing, the continuous
disquieting flashes of the searchlights, and the great hull of the
_Leicestershire_ ashore off Leith, indicated that something untoward had
befallen the fleet.
For a moment it was thought that the Admiral had fallen to manœuvres
at a most unseasonable hour, or that some accident had occurred on board
the injured cruiser. Then suddenly the truth dawned upon the people. The
crowd ashore, constantly increasing, as it gazed in alarm towards the
anchorage, realised that war had begun, and that for the first time
since the Dutch sailed up the Medway, more than two hundred years
before, the sanctity of a British anchorage had been invaded by an
enemy.
The coastguardsmen, who had been placed under the control of the civil
authorities as the result of one of the numerous reforms effected in the
interests of economy, had for the most part forgotten the art of quick
signalling or quick reading of naval signals, else they might have
interpreted to the crowd the history of that night, as it was flashed to
the wireless station at Rosyth, for transmission to London.
But, as has been said, the attempt to despatch the news to headquarters
failed. The private wire from the dockyard to Whitehall would not work,
and though the post office wires were tried no answer could be obtained.
It appeared that, as on the famous night of the North Sea outrage, there
was no one at the Admiralty--not even a clerk. It was, therefore,
impossible to obtain definite information.
Lord Ebbfleet had meantime received a report from his torpedo launches
that a precarious passage had been cleared through the mines in the
channel, and about four o’clock on Sunday morning he ordered the
armoured cruiser squadron to put to sea and ascertain whether the coast
was clear, preceding the battle squadron, which, minus the two damaged
battleships, was to follow at six.
The interval of two hours was required to take on board ammunition from
the damaged ships, to land woodwork and all the impedimenta that could
possibly be discarded before battle, and also to complete the
preparations for action.
It was now almost certain that a German fleet would be encountered, but,
as has been said, the risk of remaining in the Forth was even greater
than that of proceeding to sea, while the Commander-in-Chief realised
the full gravity of the fact that upon his fleet and its activity would
depend the safety of England from invasion.
He knew that the other main fleets were far distant; that the reserve
ships were much too weak by themselves to meet the force of the German
Navy, and that the best chance of averting a fresh disaster to them was
to effect as speedily as possible a junction with them. Where exactly
they were or whether they had moved from the Nore he was not yet aware;
the absence of information from the Admiralty left him in the dark as to
these two important points.
The armoured cruisers were ordered, if they encountered the German
cruisers in approximately equal or inferior force, to drive them off and
push through them, to ascertain the strength and whereabouts of the
German battle fleet; if, however, the Germans were in much superior
force, the British squadron was to fall back on the battle fleet. One by
one the armoured cruisers steamed off, first the _Polyphemus_, with the
Rear-Admiral’s flag, then the _Olympia_, _Achates_, _Imperieuse_,
_Aurora_, and _Londonderry_, and last of all the _Gloucester_ bringing
up the rear.
Upon these seven ships the duty of breaking through the enemy’s screen
was to devolve. As they went out they jettisoned their woodwork and
formed a line ahead, in which formation they were to fight.
Unfortunately, the shooting of the squadron was very uneven. Three of
its ships had done superbly at battle practice and in the gun-layers’
test; but two others had performed indifferently, and two could scarcely
be trusted to hit the target.
For years the uneven shooting of the fleet had been noted as a source of
weakness; but what was needed to bring the bad ships up to the mark was
a lavish expenditure of ammunition, and ammunition cost money. Therefore
ammunition had to be stinted.
In the German Navy, on the other hand, a contrary course had been
followed. For the two months before the war, as was afterwards disclosed
by the German Staff History, the German ships had been kept constantly
at practice, and if the best ships did not shoot quite so well as the
best units in the British fleet, a far higher average level of gunnery
had been attained.
Increasing the number of revolutions till the speed reached 18 knots,
the cruiser squadron sped seawards. The east was flushed with the glow
of dawn as the ships passed Inchcolm, but a grey mist lay upon the
surface of the gently heaving sea and veiled the horizon. Leaving
Inchkeith and the Kinghorn Battery soon after the Leith clocks had
struck the half-hour, and steaming on a generally easterly course, the
lookout of the _Polyphemus_ saw right ahead and some ten or eleven miles
away to the north-east the dark forms of ships upon the horizon. The
British line turned slightly and headed towards these ships. All the
telescopes on the _Polyphemus’s_ fore-bridge were directed upon the
strangers, and the fact that they were men-of-war painted a muddy grey
was ascertained as they drew nearer, and transmitted by wireless
telegraphy to Lord Ebbfleet.
They were coming on at a speed which seemed to be about 17 knots, and
were formed in line ahead, in a line perfectly maintained, so that, as
they were approaching on almost exactly the opposite course, their
number could not be counted. In another minute or two, as the distance
between the two squadrons rapidly diminished, it was clear from her
curious girdermasts that the ship at the head of the line was either the
large German armoured cruiser _Waldersee_, the first of the large type
built by Germany, or some other ship of her class. At six miles distance
several squadrons of destroyers were made out, also formed in line
ahead, and steaming alongside the German line, abaft either beam.
A battle was imminent; there was no time to issue elaborate orders, or
make fresh dispositions.
The British Admiral signalled that he would turn to starboard, to
reconnoitre the strange fleet, and reserve fire till closer quarters. He
turned five points, which altered his course to an east-south-easterly
one. For a fractional period of time the Germans maintained their
original course, steering for the rear of the British line. Then the
German flagship or leader of the line turned to port, steering a course
which would bring her directly across the bows of the British line.
Simultaneously the two divisions of torpedo craft on the port beam of
the German squadron increased speed, and, cutting across the loop,
neared the head of the German line.
The German squadron opened fire as it began to turn, the _Waldersee_
beginning the duel with the two 11-in. guns in her fore-turret.
A flash, a haze of smoke instantly dissipated, and a heavy shell passed
screeching over the fore-turret of the _Polyphemus_.
Another flash an instant later, and a shell struck the British cruiser’s
third funnel, tearing a great hole in it, but failing to burst. Then
every German gun followed, laid on the _Polyphemus_, which blew her
steam siren and fired a 12-pounder, the prearranged signal to the
British ships for opening, and an instant later, just after 5 a.m., both
squadrons were exchanging the most furious fire at a distance which did
not exceed 5000 yards.
As the two lines turned, the British were able at last to make out the
strength and numbers of their enemy. There were ten German armoured
cruisers in line--at the head of the line the fast and new _Waldersee_,
_Caprivi_, and _Moltke_, each of 16,000 tons, and armed with four 11-in.
and ten 9.4-in. guns, with astern of them the _Manteuffel_, _York_,
_Roon_, _Friedrich Karl_, _Prince Adalbert_, _Prince Heinrich_, and
_Bismarck_.
The last four did not follow the first six in the turn, but maintained
their original course, and headed direct for the rear of the British
line. Thus the position was this: One German squadron was manœuvring
to pass across the head of the British line, and the other to cross the
rear of that line. Each German squadron was attended by two torpedo
divisions.
Retreat for the British Admiral was already out of the question, even if
he had wished to retire. But as he stood in the _Polyphemus’s_
conning-tower and felt his great cruiser reel beneath him under the
concussion of her heavy guns--as he saw the rush of splinters over her
deck, and heard the officers at his side shouting down the telephones
amid the deafening din caused by the crash of steel on steel, the
violent explosion of the shells, the heavy roar of the great guns, and
the ear-splitting crack and rattle of the 12-pounders and pom-poms--he
realised that the German squadrons were manœuvring perfectly, and
were trying a most daring move--one which it would need all his nerve
and foresight to defeat.