The Battle of the Falkland Islands, Before and After
CHAPTER VI
THE ACTION OFF CORONEL
"Then let him roll His galleons round the little Golden Hynde, Bring her to bay, if he can, on the high seas, Ring us about with thousands, we'll not yield, I and my Golden Hynde, we will go down, With flag still flying on the last stump left us And all my cannon spitting the fires Of everlasting scorn into his face."
--ALFRED NOYES (_Drake_).
The wanderings of the German squadron in the Pacific have been briefly traced as far as Easter Island, where it arrived on October 12th, 1914, and found the _Dresden_. The _Leipzig_, which had been chased from pillar to post by British and Japanese cruisers, and succeeded in eluding them, joined up shortly after to the relief of the German Admiral.
The contractor at Easter Island, an Englishman named Edwards, who supplied the Germans with fresh meat and vegetables, was a ranch-owner, and had no idea that war had even been declared. One of his men, in taking off provisions to the ships, discovered this amazing fact, which had carefully been kept secret, and informed his master. The account was not settled in cash, but by a bill made payable at Valparaiso. The German squadron sailed for Mas-a-Fuera a week later, so the ranch-owner took the earliest opportunity of sending in his bill to Valparaiso, where it was duly honoured, vastly to his astonishment and relief.
For the reasons already adduced, it seemed almost certain that Admiral von Spee would make his way round South America. That there was a possibility of his descending upon Vancouver and attacking the naval dockyard of Esquimalt is acknowledged, but it was so remote as to be scarcely worthy of serious consideration. The three Japanese cruisers, _Idzuma_, _Hizen_, and _Asama_, were understood to be in the eastern Pacific at this time, and this was probably known to the German Admiral. The risk, too, that he must inevitably run in attacking a locality known to possess submarines was quite unjustifiable; besides, he had little to gain and everything to lose through the delay that must ensue from adopting such a policy.
The vessels engaged in the action off Coronel, with their armament, etc., were:[5]
_Names_ _Tonnage_ _Armament_ _Speed_ _Completion_
_Good Hope_ 14,100 2--9.2" 23.5 1902 16--6" _Monmouth_ 9,800 14--6" 23.3 1903 _Glasgow_ 4,800 2--6" 25.8 1910 10--4" _Otranto_ (armed 12,000 8--4.7" 18 1909 liner) gross
Speed of squadron 18 knots.
_Names_ _Tonnage_ _Armament_ _Speed_ _Completion_
_Scharnhorst_ 11,420 8--8.2" 22.5 1908 6--5.9" 20--3.4" _Gneisenau_ 11,420 8--8.2" 23.8 1908 6--5.9" 20--3.4" _Leipzig_ 3,200 10--4.1" 23 1906 _Dresden_ 3,544 12--4.1" 27 1908 4--2.1" _Nürnberg_ 3,396 10--4.1" 23.5 1908 8--2.1" Speed of squadron 22.5 knots.
It will be noticed that our two armoured cruisers were respectively six and five years older than the Germans'. Our armament was much inferior in size, number, and quality on account of the later designs of the enemy's artillery. The range of the German 4.1-inch guns was _nearly equal to that of our 6-inch guns_. But perhaps the greatest point in favour of the enemy was the fact that Cradock's ships, with the exception of the _Glasgow_, were only commissioned at the outbreak of war, and had had such continuous steaming that no really good opportunity for gunnery practices or for testing the organisation thoroughly had been possible, whilst von Spee's had been in commission for over two years and had highly trained crews, accustomed to their ships.
The following account has been compiled from personal information received from officers who took part, from letters that have appeared in the Press, from a translation that has been published of Admiral von Spee's official report, and from the official report made by Captain Luce of the _Glasgow_.
Admiral Cradock, as we have seen, joined the remainder of his little squadron with the exception of the _Canopus_ off the coast of Chile on October 29th. The latter was following at her best speed. The squadron proceeded northwards, whilst the _Glasgow_ was detached to Coronel to send telegrams, a rendezvous being fixed for her to rejoin at 1 P.M. on November 1st.
No authentic news of the movements of the Germans was available at this time; in fact, the last time that von Spee's squadron had been definitely heard of was when it appeared off Papeete and bombarded the town toward the end of September. That the enemy might be encountered at any moment was of course fully realised, but it was hoped that either the _Dresden_ and _Leipzig_ or the main squadron might be brought to action separately, before they were able to join forces. Time was everything if this was to be brought about, so Admiral Cradock pushed on without delay. The anxiety to obtain news of a reliable character may be imagined, but only the vaguest of rumours, one contradicting the other, were forthcoming. Reports showed that the German merchant shipping in the neighbourhood were exhibiting unwonted signs of energy in loading coal and stores, but this gave no certain indication of the proximity of the entire squadron.
Rejoining the British squadron at sea on November 1st, the _Glasgow_ communicated with the _Good Hope_. Our ships had recently been hearing Telefunken[6] signals on their wireless, which was proof that one or more enemy warships were close at hand. About 2 P.M., therefore, the Admiral signalled the squadron to spread on a line bearing N.E. by E. from the _Good Hope_, which steered N.W. by N. at 10 knots. Ships were ordered to open to a distance of fifteen miles apart at a speed of 15 knots, the _Monmouth_ being nearest to the flagship, the _Otranto_ next, and then the _Glasgow_, which was thus nearest the coast.
There was not sufficient time to execute this manœuvre, and when smoke was suddenly sighted at 4.20 P.M. to the eastward of the _Otranto_ and _Glasgow_, these two ships were still close together and about four miles from the _Monmouth_. The _Glasgow_ went ahead to investigate and made out three German warships, which at once turned towards her. The Admiral was over twenty miles, distant and out of sight, and had to be informed as soon as possible, so the _Glasgow_ returned at full speed, warning him by wireless, which the Germans endeavoured to jam, that the enemy was in sight.
The squadron reformed at full speed on the flagship, _who had altered course to the southward_, and by 5.47 P.M. had got into single line-ahead in the order: _Good Hope_, _Monmouth_, _Glasgow_, and _Otranto_. The enemy, in similar formation, was about twelve miles off.
For the better understanding of the movements which follow, it may be stated that the ideal of a naval artillerist is a good target--that is, a clear and well defined object which is plainly visible through the telescopic gunsights; the wind in the right direction, relative to the engaged side, so that smoke does not blow across the guns, and no sudden alterations of course, to throw out calculations. The tactics of a modern naval action are in a large measure based on these ideals, at any rate according to the view of the gunnery specialist.
It is evident that it was Admiral Cradock's intention to close in and force action at short range as quickly as possible, in order that the enemy might be handicapped by the rays of the lowering sun, which would have been behind our ships, rendering them a very poor target for the Germans as the squadrons drew abeam of one another. He therefore altered course inwards towards the enemy, but von Spee was either too wary or too wise, for he says in his report that he turned away to a southerly course after 5.35, thus declining action, which the superior speed of his squadron enabled him to do at his pleasure. The wind was south (right ahead), and it was blowing very fresh, so that a heavy head sea was encountered, which made all ships--especially the light-cruisers--pitch and roll considerably. It seems very doubtful whether the _Good Hope_ and _Monmouth_ were able to use their main deck guns, and it is certain that they could not have been of any value. This would mean that these two ships could only fire two 9.2-inch and ten 6-inch guns on the broadside between them, instead of their whole armament of two 9.2-inch and seventeen 6-inch guns.
There was little daylight left when Admiral Cradock tried to close the Germans, hoping that they would accept his challenge in view of their superior strength.
At 6.18 Admiral Cradock increased speed to 17 knots, making a wireless message to the _Canopus_, "I am about to attack enemy now." Both squadrons were now on parallel courses approximately, steering south, and about 7½ miles apart. A second light cruiser joined the German line about this period; according to von Spee's report the _Scharnhorst_ was leading, followed by the _Gneisenau_, _Leipzig_, and _Dresden_.
As the sun sank below the horizon (about 6.50 P.M.) the conditions of light became reversed to our complete disadvantage; our ships were now lit up by the glow of the sunset, the enemy being gradually enshrouded in a misty haze as the light waned. Admiral Cradock's last hope of averting defeat must have vanished as he watched the enemy turning away; at the best he could only expect to damage and thus delay the enemy, while it was impossible to withdraw. He had no choice but to hold on and do his best, trusting in Providence to aid him. In judging what follows it should be kept in mind that in the declining light even the outlines of the enemy's ships rapidly became obliterated, making it quite impossible to see the fall of our shots in order to correct the range on the gunsights; on the other hand, our ships showed up sharply against the western horizon and still provided good targets for the German gunners. Von Spee in his report says his "guns' crews on the middle decks were never able to see the sterns of their opponents, and only occasionally their bows." This certainly implies that the upper deck gunners could see quite well, whilst we have information from Captain Luce's report that our ships were unable to see the enemy early in the action, and were firing at the flashes of his guns.
Accordingly, as soon as the sun disappeared, von Spee lost no time in approaching our squadron, and opened fire at 7.4 at a range of 12,000 yards. Our ships at once followed suit with the exception of the _Otranto_, whose old guns did not admit of her competing against men-of-war at this distance. The German Admiral apparently endeavoured to maintain this range, so as to reap the full advantage of his newer and heavier armament, for the two 9.2-inch guns in the _Good Hope_ were the only ones in the whole of our squadron that were effective at this distance with the possible exception of the two modern 6-inch guns in the _Glasgow_. Von Spee had, of course, calculated this out, and took care not to close until our armoured cruisers were _hors de combat_.
The Germans soon found the range, their fire proving very accurate, which was to be expected in view of the reputation of the _Scharnhorst_ and _Gneisenau_ for good shooting--the former had won the gold medal for the best average. These armoured cruisers concentrated their fire entirely on our two leading ships, doing considerable execution. In addition, they had a great stroke of luck, for in the first ten minutes of the engagement a shell struck the fore turret of the _Good Hope_, putting that 9.2-inch out of action. The _Monmouth_ was apparently hit several times in rapid succession, for she was forced to haul out of the line to the westward, and her forecastle was seen to be burning furiously, but she continued to return the enemy's fire valiantly. This manœuvre caused her to drop astern, and compelled the _Glasgow_, who now followed on after the _Good Hope_, to ease speed to avoid getting into the zone of fire intended for the _Monmouth_.
It was now growing dark, but this did not deter both squadrons from continuing to blaze away as hard as they could; in fact, the fight was at its height; the German projectiles were falling all round and about our ships, causing several fires which lit them up with a ghostly hue. The heavy artillery of the enemy was doing great damage, and it was evident that both the _Good Hope_ and _Monmouth_ were in a bad way; the former sheered over unsteadily towards the Germans, returning their fire spasmodically, whilst the latter had a slight list and from her erratic movements gave the impression that her steering arrangements had been damaged. The results of our shooting could not be distinguished with accuracy, though von Spee mentions that the _Scharnhorst_ found a 6-inch shell in one of her storerooms, which had penetrated the side and caused a deal of havoc below but did not burst, and also that one funnel was hit. The _Gneisenau_ had two men wounded, and sustained slight damage.
At 7.50 P.M. a sight of the most appalling splendour arrested everyone, as if spellbound, in his tussle with death. An enormous sheet of flame suddenly burst from the _Good Hope_, lighting up the whole heavens for miles around. This was accompanied by the noise of a terrific explosion, which hurled up wreckage and sparks at least a couple of hundred feet in the air from her after funnels. A lucky shot had penetrated one of her magazines. "It reminded me of Vesuvius in eruption," said a seaman in describing this spectacle. It was now pitch dark, making it impossible for the opposing vessels to distinguish one another. The _Good Hope_ was never heard to fire her guns again, and could not have long survived such a terrible explosion, though no one saw her founder.
The moon had risen about 6.30 P.M. and was now well up, but it was too overcast to see much. According to von Spee the squadrons had closed in to about 5,400 yards, which caused him to sheer off, fearing torpedo attack. It seems certain that although firing was continued it could not have been effective, for three minutes after the _Good Hope_ blew up the Germans ceased fire altogether. Shortly afterwards von Spee ordered the _Leipzig_, _Dresden_, and _Nürnberg_--the last-named having joined the squadron during the action--to make a torpedo attack.
The _Monmouth_ ceased firing just before the explosion on board the _Good Hope_, and was then steering roughly N.W. It was clear she was on her last legs, as her list had increased and she was down by the bows. She now suddenly altered course to the N.E. in the direction of the oncoming enemy. Captain Luce was senior naval officer, being senior to Captain Brandt, of the _Monmouth_. He saw the Germans approaching and signalled the _Monmouth_ at 8.30, "Enemy following us," but received no reply. Clearly there was no alternative left him but to save his ship, if he was not to make a needless sacrifice of his men, as it was obvious that he could be of no further assistance to his doomed consort. In addition, it was essential that the _Canopus_ should be warned in time to avert a further calamity, a task not so simple as it sounds, for the Germans were jamming our wireless messages. It is said that when last seen the gallant _Monmouth_ turned and made straight for the enemy in a heroic attempt to ram one of their ships. Von Spee reports that the _Nürnberg_ sank the _Monmouth_ at 9.28 P.M. by bombardment at point-blank range; this accounts for the seventy-five flashes of gunfire as well as the play of the beams of a search-light, which were observed by the _Glasgow_ after leaving the scene of action. It must have been brutal work.
Thus perished Admiral Cradock together with 1,600 gallant officers and men. In fairness to the Germans it should be stated that our own officers considered it too rough for boats to be lowered with any safety.
The _Glasgow_ had been subjected to the combined fire of the _Leipzig_ and _Dresden_, whose gunnery was fortunately not very effective owing to the long range maintained between the two squadrons before the light failed. That she had withstood this combined onslaught for fifty-two minutes (von Spee's report) was remarkable, but that she had suffered no material damage was little short of a miracle. Her casualties amounted to four men slightly wounded. She was hit five times, on or near the water line, but not in vital places. The protection afforded by the coal in her bunkers saved her on three occasions, as otherwise in the nasty sea running at the time she would have found herself in a very precarious position. Of the remaining two hits, one penetrated the deck but did not explode, while the other wrecked the captain's pantry and cabin. There was one large hole, which luckily did not prevent her eluding her pursuers at high speed by steering out to the W.N.W., and thence in a wide circle to the southward to the Magellan Straits, finally arriving at Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands.
At the outset of the engagement the _Good Hope_ made a signal down the line to the _Otranto_, the only words received being, "Leaving _Otranto_." The latter, therefore, hauled out to endeavour to get this signal direct from the flagship, but as the _Good Hope_ had been badly hit, nothing further was received. As projectiles were falling all round her, and it was realised that the _Otranto_, being a large ship, would be used by the enemy as a rangefinder to enable him to calculate the distance of the _Glasgow_, she hauled out still farther to upset the accuracy of his gun-fire. The enemy proceeded to carry this method of ranging into effect; the first salvo passed over the _Otranto's_ bridge, the second missed the bows by 50 yards, the third fell 150 yards astern, while others which followed fell, some over, some short. By this time she had worked out of the line about 1,200 yards, so turned to the same course, as far as could be judged, as the remainder of the squadron. She was now out of range. The _Otranto_ ran the gauntlet of the enemy's most successfully, since she emerged from this storm of shell quite unscathed, but it must have been touch and go. Moreover--and hardest of all--she had to submit to this treatment without being in a position to retaliate. After the flagship blew up, nothing was seen of the _Monmouth_; subsequently the _Glasgow_ was reported crossing her stern. Seeing that she could be of no assistance, the _Otranto_ dodged her opponents by straining full speed to the westward for 200 miles, and thence to the southward. Rounding Cape Horn, she passed between the Falklands and the mainland and arrived at Montevideo. Both she and the _Glasgow_ must have accounted themselves most fortunate in escaping safely from this unequal contest.
The _Canopus_, which had been steaming northward with two colliers, intercepted a wireless message from the _Glasgow_ to the _Good Hope_ reporting the enemy in sight. She immediately increased to her full speed, dispatching the colliers to Juan Fernandez, and proceeded on her course northward in the hope that she would arrive in time to engage the enemy. About 9 P.M. she received a signal from the _Glasgow_ that it was feared the _Good Hope_ and _Monmouth_ had been sunk, and that the squadron was scattered. Seeing the hopelessness of continuing on her course, the _Canopus_ turned round, picked up her colliers, and made for the Magellan Straits via Smyth's Channel, the successful navigation of which reflects great credit, since she was probably the first battleship ever to make use of it. By this means she succeeded in reaching Port Stanley without molestation, although the German ships were constantly in close proximity.
Admiral Cradock appears to have had definite orders to prevent the enemy coming round to the east coast of America. The _Canopus_ was only 120 miles away when he met the enemy. But had the Admiral waited for her the Germans might have slipped past him during the night, and, moreover, her slow speed would have seriously hampered the mobility of his squadron. Speaking of Admiral Cradock, Sir Henry Newbolt[7] says, "He had asked for reinforcements, and the Admiralty had sent him what they thought sufficient. It was not for him to hold back."
The advantages of speed and modern guns of superior range were perhaps the outstanding features of the Coronel action. It was not the vain sacrifice which at first sight it might appear to be, as it probably saved our ships operating on the east coast of South America from a similar fate.
Admiral Cradock carried out unflinchingly his search for a force which he knew would almost certainly be superior to his own. His unhesitating acceptance of the action and the gallantry of the fight uphold the finest traditions of the Royal Navy, and will always be recalled by it with pride. Surely, before God and man, such deeds of heroism go far to mitigate the infamy of war.
"At set of sun, Even as below the sea-line the broad disc Sank like a red-hot cannon-ball through surf Of seething molten lead, the _Santa Maria_, Uttering one cry that split the heart of heaven, Went down with all hands, roaring into the dark."
ALFRED NOYES (_Drake_).