THE BEGINNING OF THE WAR AT SEA.
While our gallant soldiers are resting after their long retreat, we will
make for
"The sea! the sea! the open sea!
The blue, the fresh, the ever-free!"
and follow the fortunes of our sailors during the first two months of
the war. In Chapter II., Volume I., you learnt that our first line of
defence was fully prepared for active service the moment that war broke
out. From the first we had the command of the seas. Our British Home
Fleet was fully forty per cent. stronger than any fleet that the Germans
could bring against it in the North Sea, and besides this we had many
other squadrons scouring the oceans of the world, and the assistance of
the French and Japanese navies. On the sea the Germans and Austrians
were hopelessly inferior to the Allies.
Such being the case, the Germans, though they had long toasted "The Day"
on which they were going to destroy our naval supremacy for ever, dared
not leave their harbours and show fight. They were very wise in this
respect. They knew that pitched battles could only end in one way--the
entire destruction of their navy.
You read in Chapter XVII. of Volume I. that their plan was to strew the
North Sea with mines, in the hope that our ships would bump upon them
and be blown up. In this way they hoped that our strength would be
slowly reduced to their own level. The Germans meant to keep their fleet
in safety until they could fight us upon even terms. They believed that
our sailors ploughing the sea day after day in search of an enemy that
could not be found, and going in constant terror of floating mines and
submarines, would grow stale and dispirited. Then when many of our ships
had gone down, and our men were worn out in body and in mind, they meant
to sally forth and crush British sea-power once and for all. It was an
excellent plan--on paper.
Before I pass on to describe the first sea fight of the war, let us look
for a moment at the coast line of Germany. It is, as you know, entirely
confined to a strip on the North Sea, and to a long stretch on the
Baltic Sea. On both these sea fronts Germany had to meet a naval
power--the British in the North Sea, and the Russians in the Baltic. You
were told on page 141 of Volume I. that, in order to enable German
warships to pass rapidly from one front to the other, the Kiel Canal has
been constructed. The work of widening and deepening this canal was
completed some six weeks before the outbreak of war.
The German coast on the North Sea is only about a hundred miles from
west to east, not counting indentations; and it is washed by very
shallow waters, which are much impeded by sandbanks. The sea is gaining
on the shore, as you may notice from the long line of fringing islands
which were formerly part of the mainland. Close to the Dutch frontier,
on the estuary of the Ems, is the port and manufacturing town of Emden.
The Germans have spent much money in constructing at Emden a harbour big
enough and deep enough to accommodate the largest liners and warships.
Between the mouth of the Ems and the Jade there is a long, sandy stretch
of coast, backed by dunes and broken by tidal creeks. On the west side
of the Jade estuary stands Wilhelmshaven, the great North Sea naval base
of Germany. It was established by the present Kaiser's grandfather in
1869, and is very strongly fortified. It boasts two harbours, several
wet and dry docks, coaling basins, and a large naval barracks. In time
of peace the First Squadron of the German High Sea Fleet is stationed at
Wilhelmshaven.
On the east side of the estuary of the Weser is Bremerhaven, with three
large harbour basins and several docks, including the dry dock of the
North German Lloyd steamers. About twenty miles north of Bremerhaven, at
the mouth of the Elbe, is Cuxhaven, which between 1892 and 1895 was
turned into a port capable of berthing the largest ocean-going
steamers. It is the outport of Hamburg, the greatest seaport on the
Continent of Europe, and the Hamburg-America steamers make it their
headquarters. Nature has already fortified the ports along this coast,
for the estuaries on which they stand consist of a network of mazy
channels winding amidst deadly sandbanks, which can only be threaded
safely by pilots who spend their lives in the work. The Germans have,
however, not trusted solely to this natural protection, but have set up
very strong forts at all points where there is danger of attack.
The whole coast is followed by a double line of railways, built not for
trade but for purposes of war--probably for an invasion of England. The
Germans watch the coast most jealously, and will not allow visitors to
approach the chief forts. In the year 1911 they imprisoned a British
Territorial officer, Captain Bertrand Stewart--the first to give his
life in the war--on the false charge of spying out the defences of the
towns and islands along this precious seaboard.
[Illustration: The Island of Heligoland. Part of the harbour is shown on
the right.
_Photo, Exclusive News Agency._]
About the centre of the North Sea line of coast, thirty-five miles to
the northward of Cuxhaven, is the island of Heligoland, which is the
fortified outer guard of the Kiel Canal and the key to the German coast
defences. For eighty-three years the Union Jack waved over it, but in
1890 it was ceded to Germany. It is a sandstone islet, one mile in
length and 650 yards in breadth, with almost vertical cliffs on all
sides. So soft is the sandstone that the sea makes great inroads on it.
In the year 800 A.D. the circumference of Heligoland was 120 miles, but
by 1300 A.D. it had been reduced by the everlasting gnawing of the sea
to forty-five miles. Now it is but three or four miles round. The
Germans have surrounded it with a concrete wall, so that the sea can no
longer eat it away.
In the heart of the rock, underground passages, chambers, and galleries
have been excavated, and the whole island has been turned into an
impregnable fortress. The many batteries are invisible from the sea, and
the plateau on top of the island has been made bomb-proof. Only on the
north side of the island can the cliffs be scaled by an invader, and the
possible landing-places are all commanded by guns. On the highest point
of the island--245 feet above the sea--are a lighthouse and a wireless
station. Hangars for Zeppelins have been built on the plateau. These
sheds are very cleverly constructed. They can be revolved so that the
air-ships in them can be brought to the entrance, head to the wind, and,
if necessary, they can be sunk into a valley out of sight of the sea.
There is a large harbour for destroyers and submarines at the eastern
end of the island, and also a small dockyard for repairing light craft.
When Heligoland passed into German hands a Russian soldier said that
thenceforth a blockade of the North Sea German coast would be extremely
difficult. A British blockading fleet would not only have to expect
attack from the front, but both its flanks would be constantly
threatened. Thus the German vessels would be able to slip out, make
raids on the estuaries and ports of the east coast of Britain, and
attack British ships in their own waters. We shall see later that this
prophecy came true. Meanwhile the Germans strewed their own coast with
mine-fields, and thus made it almost impossible of attack.
* * * * *
Immediately war broke out our Grand Fleet disappeared. It melted into
space, as it were, and nothing was seen of it but the ships patrolling
the coast. But though a thick veil was drawn over its movements, it made
itself felt at once. It forced the Germans to keep their most powerful
ships in harbour, and it put an end to all talk of invasion. In the year
1910 Sir Arthur Wilson, who was then First Sea Lord of the Admiralty,
said that the really serious danger that we had to guard against in war
was not an invasion of our shores, but the stoppage of our trade and the
destruction of our merchant shipping. Our overseas trade is extremely
important, and the destruction of our merchant shipping would, as you
know, rob us of our food and compel us to starve or surrender. The
Germans know this very well, and just before the war they sent out
cruisers and armed liners to fall upon our peaceful merchant ships and
sink them.
[Illustration: Sir John Jellicoe on board his flagship, the Iron Duke.
_Photo, Alfieri._]
We had, of course, prepared against such attacks on our shipping. Our
cruisers were in every quarter of the globe, and we immediately began to
sweep the German commerce raiders from the seas. Our Government believed
that we should lose 10 per cent. of our vessels, but by the beginning of
October we had only lost 1¼ per cent., while Germany and Austria had
lost 10 per cent. of their total shipping. This was a remarkable state
of things, and quite contrary to our experience in former wars. During
the year 1813, when the British navy was at the height of its power, and
we were at war with the United States, the ships of the enemy captured
650 British vessels. From 4th August 1914 to 10th March 1915 the Germans
only captured or sank 90 of our ships. By the end of October the trade
routes were practically as free as they had ever been. British trade
passed to and fro almost as freely as in time of peace. Our food supply
was hardly molested, and though prices rose there was no shortage. It
was said very truly that every British child ought to repeat this grace
before meat: "Thank God for my good dinner and for the British Navy."
Before I tell you how the German commerce raiders came to grief, you
shall hear the story of two German cruisers, the _Goeben_[85] and the
_Breslau_. They were in the Mediterranean Sea, off the coast of Algeria,
when war broke out. Probably they had been ordered to the Mediterranean
to assist the Austrians, and also the Italians if they should elect to
take a hand in the war. As you know, the Italians refused to fight along
with their allies, because they believed that Germany and Austria had
provoked the war. The _Goeben_ was the fastest ship in the German fleet,
and the _Breslau_ was only slightly inferior in speed. The two ships
began operations by shelling some of the unprotected coast towns of
Algeria, and then turned northwards, with the object, it is believed, of
making for the Strait of Gibraltar. They were headed off by a British
fleet; but they outdistanced their pursuers, and early on the mornings
of 5th August appeared off Messina. Here the captains and the officers
made their wills, and handed them over, along with their valuables and
signed portraits of the Kaiser, to the care of the German consul. Then
the decks were cleared, and the bands struck up, and out they steamed,
as everybody thought, to give battle to the British fleet.
Unfortunately for us, they evaded our ships. When, however, they were
going full steam to the eastward, and were off Cape Matapan, the British
cruiser _Gloucester_ sighted them. Though she was only one ship against
two, she gallantly engaged them, and did some damage to both. They took
to their heels, and were next heard of in the Dardanelles, where,
contrary to all the rules of war, they were sold to the Turkish
Government. Such was the inglorious exploit of Germany's crack cruisers.
It was a bad beginning for the German navy, but there was worse to
follow.
* * * * *
The first of the German commerce raiders to go under was the _Kaiser
Wilhelm der Grosse_[86]--far too big a mouthful for the British sailor,
who promptly christened her "Billy the Grocer." She was a fine fast
liner of 14,000 tons, and had been armed with 4-inch guns. Her business
was to hold up sea traffic between Great Britain and the Cape of Good
Hope. She captured and sank a few ships, amongst them the _Kaipara_,
belonging to the New Zealand Shipping Company. Shortly after sinking the
_Kaipara_ she was attacked by H.M.S. _Highflyer_ (August 27). The fight
was fast and furious, but the guns of the _Kaiser Wilhelm_ were easily
outranged. The first shot from the _Highflyer_ disabled the German's
port gun and tore away part of her bridge. Shortly afterwards she sank
riddled with shot. Our losses were one man killed and five slightly
wounded. The German captain had placed his prisoners of war on board a
collier before the duel began, and this and previous acts of humanity
won him the approval of our Admiralty. When the news was flashed by
wireless to Whitehall the Admiralty sent the following message to the
_Highflyer_:--
"Bravo! you have rendered a service not only to Britain, but to the
peaceful commerce of the world. The German officers and crew appear to
have carried out their duties with humanity and restraint, and are
therefore worthy of all seamanlike consideration."
* * * * *
On September 4 came news of disaster. The _Speedy_, a British torpedo
gunboat of an old type, bumped against a mine and foundered. Next day
H.M.S. _Pathfinder_ was steaming northward on a calm sea, and was about
twenty miles from St. Abb's Head, when suddenly a terrific explosion
blew her almost to fragments. She had been torpedoed by a German
submarine, the periscope of which was seen shortly before the explosion.
The skipper of a trawler who witnessed the disaster said that he saw the
ship surrounded by a cloud of smoke, and that when it cleared there was
not a trace of her to be seen. He hurried to the rescue, and so did
other fishing vessels in the neighbourhood, and by their exertions some
of the crew were saved, but 250 men and 9 officers perished. For a few
days the Admiralty kept back the news from the public, in the hope that
one or more of the submarines in the neighbourhood might be trapped.
Later on, it was reported that these venturesome craft had been scouting
as far north as the Orkneys. German wireless news informed us that the
_Pathfinder_ had been sunk by the U22.[87]
* * * * *
The British navy had its revenge twelve days later. Submarine E9,[88]
commanded by Lieutenant-Commander Max K. Horton, an officer of the
greatest daring and skill, of whom we shall hear more later, pushed into
the Bight of Heligoland, and, six miles south of the island, fell in
with the German cruiser _Hela_. He discharged two torpedoes at her, one
striking her at the bow and the other amidships. She burst into flames
and sank in an hour, most of the crew being saved. When E9 returned to
Harwich, flying a little yellow flag, and beneath it a white flag with
the skull and cross bones, all seafaring men knew that she had been
victorious. She had a great reception; the crews of the warships in the
harbour cheered her again and again, and Lieutenant-Commander Horton was
playfully dubbed by his comrades "The Double-toothed Pirate."
[Illustration: The Exploit of E9: the Sinking of the Hela.]
* * * * *
On 20th September came the news of a serious misfortune. Since the
outbreak of war H.M.S. _Pegasus_ had been working from Zanzibar along
the coast of German East Africa. She had destroyed the port of
Dar-es-Salaam,[89] and had sunk a German gunboat and a floating dock. At
5 a.m. on the morning of Sunday, 20th September, she was lying at anchor
in Zanzibar harbour, cleaning her boilers and repairing her machinery.
Suddenly the German cruiser _Königsberg_ appeared, and caught her
unawares. The German ship was armed with guns which outranged those of
the _Pegasus_, and she immediately began a fierce bombardment. The
_Pegasus_ discharged her broadside; but the Germans disabled her guns
with three shots, and then for a quarter of an hour rained shells upon
her, while she was helpless to reply. After a lull the _Königsberg_
opened fire again, and the _Pegasus_ by this time was able to return
shot for shot. When the German steamed off to the southward the British
ship was found to be badly holed, and was towed away and grounded on a
sand spit. She had lost 25 killed and 80 wounded out of a crew of 234.
During the fight the British flag was twice shot away. It could not be
nailed to the mast as in the days of Nelson, for masts are now made of
iron; yet it had to fly in sight of the enemy, for without it the ship
would seem to have surrendered. Rather than let this dishonour attach to
them, two marines seized the flag and held it up while a new flagstaff
was being rigged. It was still fluttering its defiance when the
_Königsberg_ steamed away.
I have told you in these pages of scores of heroic deeds; in the
multitude of them let us not forget the brave and devoted men who kept
the flag flying in Zanzibar harbour, and thus showed the enemy that the
British navy of to-day is still inspired by the old unconquerable spirit
of Blake and Nelson.
* * * * *
Early in September we first heard of the famous German raider the
_Emden_. She had been on the China station when war broke out, and now
she appeared in the Bay of Bengal and began her career of destruction.
I will tell you her full story later on, when I come to the day when she
was sunk.
Now we will learn how the German commerce raider _Cap Trafalgar_ was
sent to her doom. She was a fast liner, armed with eight 4-inch guns and
machine guns. Strange to say, her victorious opponent was a British
armed liner, the _Carmania_, of the White Star line. Liverpool boys and
girls are sure to have seen the _Carmania_ lying in the Mersey, or at
the Prince's landing-stage, for she has regularly crossed the Atlantic
since 1905.
On 14th September the crew of the _Carmania_ were just sitting down to
their midday meal when the lookout men sighted a strange vessel. She was
a liner as big as the _Carmania_. She was not at first recognized as an
enemy, because she had rigged up a dummy funnel, and made herself look
something like a Union Castle liner. The British captain, however, was
suspicious, so he ordered a shot to be fired across the stranger's bows
as a signal to heave-to. No sooner had the shot plumped into the water
than the stranger opened fire, and the German flag fluttered to her
masthead.
The _Carmania_ let fly her port guns, and soon both vessels were
fighting hammer and tongs. Both were big ships, and very good targets:
the _Carmania_, for example, is 675 feet long and 60 feet out of the
water, and aiming at her is like shooting at the side of a street. The
_Cap Trafalgar_ hit the _Carmania_ more than three hundred times, but
only two of the shots were serious. For the most part the shells flew
high, and only damaged the _Carmania's_ rigging and upper works. The
British gunners aimed low, and her captain so manoeuvred the ship that
she was end on to her enemy most of the time.
[Illustration: How they kept the Flag flying.]
Shot after shot hit the _Cap Trafalgar_ on the water line, and soon she
caught fire. After the duel had lasted one hour and forty-five minutes
she heeled over at such an angle that the men on the _Carmania_ could
actually look down her funnels. Then there was an explosion, and her
bows went under; another explosion followed, and she slowly disappeared.
Many of the men struggling in the water were rescued by the empty
collier that accompanied her. The _Carmania_ was prevented from sending
her boats to the rescue because she was on fire forward. Our loss was
nine men killed, five seriously wounded, and twenty-one slightly
wounded. The following message was received from the Admiralty soon
after the news reached London:--
"Well done. You have fought a fine action to a successful finish."
* * * * *
On the night before the Battle of Trafalgar Nelson knelt in his cabin on
the _Victory_ and wrote a beautiful prayer, in which he besought, "May
humanity after victory be the predominant feature in the British fleet."
It has always been so, and it will always be so. I must now tell you of
an action in which humanity _before_ victory led to a great disaster. On
22nd September three British cruisers, the _Aboukir_, _Hogue_, and
_Cressy_, were cruising off the coast of Holland. They were old ships,
and they were at sea for the last time; the Admiralty had already
decided to sell them for breaking up.
The weather was bad, and the usual escort of destroyers had been
delayed. Suddenly there was a terrible explosion on board the _Aboukir_.
She had been hit by a torpedo from a submarine right under one of her
magazines. The submarine, the famous U9, commanded by
Lieutenant-Commander Weddingen, had got within range under cover of a
trawler flying the Dutch flag. The _Aboukir_ sank rapidly, and at once
the _Hogue_ and the _Cressy_ slowed down, and began to lower their boats
in order to save the survivors who were struggling in the water.
This was a splendid chance for the German submarine; for, as I have
already told you, it is very difficult for under-water craft to torpedo
a ship travelling zigzag at a high speed. She has to aim herself at her
target, and only by chance can she do this when her quarry is rapidly
changing its course. When, however, it comes to rest, the submarine has
an easy task.
Two torpedoes in quick succession now sped towards the _Hogue_, and five
minutes later she had gone under, and the sea was dotted with men
swimming for dear life or clinging desperately to bits of wreckage. Soon
afterwards there was another explosion, and the _Cressy_ suffered the
same fate. Three torpedoes had been fired at her, and two of them had
hit her. Two Dutch trawlers now came to the rescue, and their crews
worked like Trojans to save the lives of our men. British destroyers
also arrived, and took part in the work of rescue; but the loss of life
was very great. About 60 officers and 1,400 men were killed or drowned.
The ships themselves were no great loss, but the 1,460 brave and
highly-trained men who went down on that fateful day can never be
replaced. "The conduct of the crew," says the commander of the _Cressy_,
"was excellent throughout." "There was no panic of any sort," wrote the
commander of the _Hogue_, "the men taking off their clothes as ordered,
and falling in with hammock or wood. . . . All the men behaved
extraordinarily well, obeying orders even when in the water and swimming
for their lives. I witnessed many cases of great self-sacrifice and
gallantry. Farmstone, able seaman, of the _Hogue_, jumped overboard from
the launch to make room for others, and would not avail himself of
assistance until all men near by were picked up; he was in the water
about half an hour."
[Illustration: The sinking of the Aboukir, Hogue, and Cressy.
This illustration shows the Cressy making a gallant attempt to ram the
submarine.]
The Admiralty afterwards sent a message to the Fleet, pointing out that
though this heavy loss of life was due to the natural desire of our
sailors to save their fellows in distress, it ought to have been
avoided, and would probably not have taken place if the _Hogue_ and the
_Cressy_ had kept on their courses, and left the work of succour to
small craft. The stoppage of these vessels was no doubt a mistake, but I
think that we shall all be ready to forgive those who made it when we
remember that they laid down their lives while trying to save their
comrades from a watery grave.
* * * * *
A sailor who was saved tells the following story:--
"The best thing I saw was the coolness of a little cadet. Not more than
fourteen he looked. He drifted near me; he and a seaman clinging with
their hands and elbows to the same bit of wood. I never saw anything as
calm as that lad. He was talking to the seaman with him. 'Well,' he
says, 'we've got to carry on like this, and if we die we shall die
game.' And with that he begins to talk about everyday things on the
sunken ship. 'What's the new engineer like?' he says, and chats about
the little incidents in the mess. Only fourteen--a little light-haired
boy. I hope he was saved."
So do we all. If he was rescued, we all hope that in days to come he
will command one of the King's ships, and play his part as nobly as he
did when floating on the sea, face to face with death.
There were about sixteen midshipmen on board the three ships. Some of
them were cadets at Osborne or Devonport when the war began. All the
older boys were hurried off to the sea, and were proud and happy to go.
Some of them have kept the "Watch on the Brine" all through the long and
bitter winter; others have helped to patrol distant seas and capture
enemy ships; some have fought a good fight in the naval battles; all
have done their duty, and many have died for their country.
There was a very lucky middy on board the _Aboukir_ when she went down.
One of the survivors asks: "What do you think of this regarding one of
our brave midshipmen? He was on board the first ship which was struck,
and as she was settling down he jumped overboard and swam clear of the
swirling water caused by the sinking vessel. He was picked up by another
of the cruisers; but she also was struck, and in her turn began to sink.
The midshipman was uninjured by the explosion, and again he jumped and
cleared the downward suction. He was picked up and put on board the
third cruiser; but before long she, too, received her death wound. Again
he got clear, and clung to a piece of wreckage, from which he was
finally rescued."
A ship's carpenter on board the _Aboukir_ had a similar experience. He
was on board all the three cruisers when they were torpedoed. When the
_Cressy_ went down he swam to a raft, which towed him along for some
distance, until a ship's boat picked him up.
* * * * *
A middy of the _Cressy_, a lad of sixteen, named Cazalet, commanded a
whaler which was engaged in the work of rescue. He was actually the
means of saving some eighty-eight lives. Altogether he picked up three
boatloads of men, and not until there were no more survivors in sight
did he seek refuge on board a Dutch trawler.
A fifteen-year-old drummer boy of the Marines managed to keep his head
above water for about four hours. An empty rum cask floated by him, and
he seized it and clung on to it until he was rescued. Strange to say, he
suffered no harm from his long bath in the stormy sea.
[Footnote 85: Named after the Prussian general August von Goeben
(1816-80). He commanded the 8th Army Corps in the Franco-German War, and
distinguished himself at Gravelotte and elsewhere.]
[Footnote 86: Emperor William the Great.]
[Footnote 87: U stands for _Unterwasserboot_--under-water boat.]
[Footnote 88: The various classes of British submarines are indicated by
a letter of the alphabet. Boats of the oldest class constructed are
lettered A.]
[Footnote 89: Seaport, military station, and capital of German East
Africa, fifty miles south of Zanzibar.]