The German Emperor had styled himself "The Admiral of the Atlantic"--a
title that rested largely upon the power and seeming invincibility of
such battle-cruisers as the "Seydlitz," and the "Goeben."
For all that, the dominion of the Western Ocean--as, indeed, of all the
High Seas from the Gulf of Mexico to the Sea of Japan--had been settled
generations ago, before ever the first ship of the Prussian Navy was
launched, when Sir Francis Drake sailed to the Spanish Main and the guns
of Nelson's wooden, three-decked ships thundered in the Bay of Aboukir.
The German press and people may have claimed at the outset of the war
that the steel ships of modern navies had never been put to the test,
and Britain had once again to prove that she was Mistress of the Seas.
In this sweeping announcement an important fact was forgotten: namely,
that it was Britain herself who had invented, designed and launched the
very first ironclad that ever put to sea. And what England had
invented, England, in all probability, knew how to use.
There was no reason to suppose that Great Britain had fallen in any way
behind the other nations in the art of naval construction. So much
skill, science and money had been expended in the naval dockyards of the
country that Englishmen had every reason to believe that, when the
tragedy of a universal war fell like a thunderbolt upon the whole
civilized world, the British Navy would not be found wholly unprepared.
If the "Derfflinger" and her companions were the giants of the ocean,
the British battle-cruisers were the Titans. They represented the
triumph of modern naval construction. They were the very finest ships
afloat.
The "Lion," which led the line, steaming at the rate of twenty-eight
knots an hour, carried a main armament of ten 13.5-inch guns, and flew
the flag of the Vice-Admiral, Sir David Beatty. She and her
sister-ship, the "Princess Royal," are ships that cannot easily be
mistaken. They have three funnels; one almost amidships, another aft;
whereas the third, which is considerably more slender than the others,
is situated abaft the mainmast, immediately in rear of the bridge.
The "Invincible" has already been mentioned as the first type of
battle-cruiser ever built; and the "Indomitable," the ship that
accompanied Sir David Beatty on that eventful morning, was a slightly
smaller member of the same class. The "New Zealand" was an improved
type, slightly larger, but capable of no greater speed. The normal
speed of both these last-named ships was inferior to that of the "Tiger"
and the "Lion" by at least three knots an hour.
Of the whole squadron, the "Tiger" was perhaps the masterpiece. This
ship is the largest battle-cruiser afloat. She was laid down at
Clydebank, and launched in 1914. Her total cost has been estimated at
two million, two hundred thousand pounds--a sum considerably in excess
of the cost of the very latest Dreadnought battleship, such as the "Iron
Duke" or the "Maryborough." She is armed, like the "Lion," with
13.5-inch guns. In appearance, having three funnels of the same size
and only one mast, she resembles no other ship afloat. In her, and in
the "Lion" and her sisters, the most wonderful results have been
obtained. These ships have a normal speed of twenty-eight knots an
hour, which can no doubt be exceeded under stress; that is to say, they
are capable of travelling at half the rate of an express train, in spite
of the fact that they are heavily armoured, and carry colossal guns,
which have an effective range at seven miles.
The turbine engines of the "Tiger" are something to marvel at. They
have a horse-power of a hundred thousand; whereas the turbines of a
great battleship, such as the "Iron Duke," are designed for twenty-nine
thousand horse-power.
The fight that took place that bleak, wintry morning, in the
neighbourhood of the Dogger Bank, was the first occasion upon which
ships of the "Dreadnought" period were matched against each other. It
was therefore something in the nature of an experiment. Both the
English and the German navies had a certain amount of curiosity in
regard to the fighting capacities of their opponents, which neither the
Battle in the Bight of Heligoland, nor even the engagement off the
Falkland Islands, had served to satisfy. For instance, British seamen,
believing half the tales they had heard, had come to believe that German
naval gunnery was something almost superhuman. Also, the comparative
value had yet to be proved of the British heavy 13.5-inch gun as opposed
to the lighter, but quicker firing, 11-inch weapon with which the German
cruisers were armed.
The combat that ensued was greatly to the credit of the British Navy. It
proved, in the first place, that our naval constructors had not been at
fault, that our Intelligence Department was efficient and alert, and
that British gunnery was by no means inferior to the German, and last,
but not least, that the spirit that animated British seamen was the same
that had existed in bygone days, when Drake, Blake, Hawke, Nelson and
St. Vincent swept the enemies of Britain from the seas.
The first part of the action was witnessed by both Crouch and Jimmy
Burke from the shattered, broken deck of the "Mondavia." Of the
concluding phase they heard afterwards, when they were picked up, like
men who had been marooned, by H.M.S. "Cockroach," which--it will be
remembered--was the self-same torpedo-boat-destroyer which had come to
the assistance of the "Harlech" off the Scilly Isles.
The "Lion" and the "Tiger" tore into action with something of the
ferocity of the noble, savage beasts from whom they had taken their
names. The "Lion" was in the van, with the pennant of Sir David Beatty
flying in the wind. A long trail of black smoke came from her triple
funnels, as shot after shot rang out in slow precision, like the sullen
tolling of a bell.
At first she did no more than endeavour to pick up the range. A
distance of about eleven miles still separated the rival ships. The
"Mondavia" lay mid-way between the two squadrons, so that the hulls of
both the German and the British ships stood forth upon either horizon
with alarming clearness.
It was precisely nine minutes past nine when the "Lion" hit the
"Bluecher." Shortly afterwards, the "Tiger" drew up to within range,
and the "Lion" fired salvo after salvo at the "Seydlitz," which stood
third in the German line.
Presently, the "Princess Royal" joined in the battle, and fired with
such deadly accuracy that almost at once the Bluecher was observed to be
rapidly falling astern.
It was a running fight across the open reaches of the North Sea. The
Germans were heading straight for safety, for Heligoland and the
mine-field in the Bight; and it was now that it was proved that as good
work can be done on board a ship in action in the stokeholds as in the
turrets.
As has been explained, the "Indomitable" and the "New Zealand" were not
such fast ships as the three larger cruisers. The stokers were called
upon to make stupendous efforts, and as one man they answered to the
call. Every available hand was turned down to the stokeholds, and there
they worked like Trojans, stripped to the waist as seamen fought in the
days of old, until they were black as negroes from the coal dust, and
the perspiration poured from off their moist and glistening backs.
The noise of the firing was now like a tremendous thunderstorm. On both
sides the battle-cruisers were engaged, whereas the lighter craft and
torpedo-boat-destroyers flew here and there like swarms of gnats, their
quick-firing guns spluttering right and left.
When it became apparent that the "Bluecher" was seriously damaged, the
"Princess Royal" shifted her fire to the "Seydlitz," leaving the
"Bluecher" to the by-no-means tender mercy of the "New Zealand" and
"Indomitable."
Both the "Seydlitz" and "Derfflinger" were in a bad way: the former was
seen to be on fire. The Vice-Admiral ordered the flotilla cruisers and
destroyers to drop back, as their smoke was fouling the range, and the
German ships were completely screened from view by the black clouds that
rolled upon the surface of the sea.
It was this that at once saved the "Seydlitz" and sealed the fate of the
"Bluecher." The "Tiger," as soon as the third ship in the German line
became invisible, turned her attention to the "Bluecher," which was
already being pounded to death by the 12-inch guns of the "New Zealand."
As a last hope, the German admiral ordered his destroyers to drop back,
to threaten the British ships with their torpedoes, and to foul with
their black smoke the line of fire. For a moment, this new danger was
so imminent that both the "Lion" and the "Tiger" were obliged to shift
their fire from the battle-cruisers to the destroyers, which soon
afterwards were compelled to beat a hasty retreat.
The "Bluecher"--which a few minutes before had seemed so formidable and
had presented so bold a front--was now in the last throes of her death.
It is not possible for anyone to describe, it would be sheer presumption
for anyone even to attempt to describe, the scenes of horror and carnage
that were taking place between the "Bluecher's" decks.
She was riddled like a sieve. Her seven-inch plates amidships had been
hammered into pig-iron; her four-inch plates, forward and aft, had been
shattered into fragments. One of her great guns had suffered a direct
hit; and a weapon, weighing thirty-six tons, and capable of firing a
projectile of six hundred and sixty-one pounds, was cast bodily into the
sea like a broken toy. Both her masts were shot away. Her forward
funnel was uprooted like a rotten tree in a gale. Her battery decks
were strewn with the mangled remains of the men who--it must be
confessed--stuck to their guns until there were no guns left to serve,
who fought with extreme gallantry to the very end.
If naval warfare is more romantic, less monotonous and weary than the
trench-fighting to which the armies in Flanders have been reduced, it
is, at least, in such cases as the fate of the "Bluecher," even more
ghastly and more tragic.
The great ship had taken on a heavy list to port. Her speed had died
down gradually to not much more than fifteen knots an hour, when
suddenly she hauled out and steered straight for the north.
Upon the instant the "Indomitable," like a great savage, stealthy
animal, broke from the British line and bore down upon her prey. There
was something in her aspect, in her dull, slate-grey outline, that
reminded one of an enormous cat that creeps upon a bird lying helpless
with a broken wing.
One after the other in quick succession her guns roared upon the beaten
ship, which suddenly heeled right over so that the light colour below
her waterline glittered in the daylight, and only the tops of her
remaining funnels were visible from the starboard side. And then, she
dived. With a roar, and in the midst of a great cloud of steam, she,
with six hundred souls on board, slid into the depths.
In the meantime, the battle continued as the great ships raced towards
the south. Both the "Seydlitz" and the "Derfflinger" had been severely
punished; and there is little doubt that the victory would have been
made far more complete than it was, had not a mishap befallen the
"Lion." A shell from the "Derfflinger" struck her in a vital part, so
that she dipped peak-foremost in the sea. Moreover, her engines had
been damaged; and it was this that had the immediate effect of putting
her out of the action, since she could no longer hope to keep pace with
either the "Tiger" or the "Princess Royal."
Admiral Beatty, boarding the destroyer "Attack," shifted his flag to the
"Princess Royal," and did not rejoin his squadron until half-past
eleven, when he met them retiring towards the north. He then learnt
what had happened from Rear-Admiral Brock. The German ships had been
pursued to the very mouth of the mine-field, where the British squadron
was threatened by submarines and seaplanes, besides a gigantic Zeppelin
which had put out from Heligoland. It is fully in accordance with
German views upon the conduct of modern naval warfare, that this
Zeppelin should have dropped bombs among the British boats that were
endeavouring to save the lives of the survivors of the "Bluecher," who
were swimming here and there at random. Had it not been for this
dastardly incident, the Germans might have had some good reason to be
proud of the Battle of the Dogger Bank. Their ships were outmatched and
overpowered, and yet they fought gallantly in face of heavy odds. As the
matter stands, not only did they tarnish the honour of their country
once again, by scorning the noblest traditions of the sea, but they had
the audacity to claim the whole affair as a glorious German victory.
They did this in the belief that they had sunk the "Tiger" or the
"Lion," or both. As a matter of fact, the total British casualties,
including killed and wounded, were four officers and thirty petty
officers and men; and the material injury done to the "Tiger" and the
"Lion" was only such as would take a few weeks to repair, though it was
certainly necessary to tow the last-named ship to port.
On the German side the losses were considerable. The "Bluecher," which
was certainly a notable asset to the German navy, was sunk; whereas the
"Derfflinger" and "Seydlitz" were damaged much more seriously than any
British ship. As far as personnel was concerned, the total German
casualties certainly exceeded a thousand--killed, wounded and prisoners.
But the Battle of the Dogger Bank cannot be regarded solely in respect
of the relative loss of ships and men on either side. It was much more.
Its moral effect was universal. It re-established the old order of
things that had existed at the outbreak of war. It decided, once
and--we must hope--for all, British supremacy upon the seas. Though a
small action--as things go nowadays--it was decisive, in the same sense
as the defeat of the Spanish Armada, the battles of the First of June,
Trafalgar and the Nile.
The flag of Germany had already been swept from the seas. The lesson of
the Dogger Bank to Grand Admiral von Tirpitz and his colleagues amounted
to this: that it was not only a risky, but was likely to prove an
exceedingly unprofitable undertaking, to operate with sea-going
ships--whether battleships, cruisers or destroyers--far from the
security of the Kiel Canal.