The German squadron, which was commanded by Admiral Graf von Spee, consisted of the Scharnhorst, Gneisenau, Dresden, NÜrnberg, and Leipzig. The two former had been on the Chinese station and were big armoured cruisers of 11,600 tons, dating from 1907. They were sister ships, each mounting eight 8·2-inch, six 6-inch, and several smaller guns. The Scharnhorst (flag) was the crack gunnery ship of the German fleet. The other three ships were third-class cruisers of between 3000 and 4000 tons, similar to the Emden, and carried ten 4·1-inch guns apiece, firing 34-pound projectiles. They had been carrying on various separate commerce-raiding operations in the Pacific, had bombarded the French port of Papeete in Tahiti, and now, when the numerous cruisers of the allied Powers were beginning to make the Pacific Ocean "unhealthy" for them, had apparently concentrated off the Chilian coast with the view of slipping out of it into the Atlantic in hopes of doing further mischief, after capturing the Falkland Islands as a base, or possibly of eventually attempting to find their way back to a German port.

On 1st November at 2 p.m. a British squadron consisting of the Good Hope (14,100 tons), Monmouth (9800 tons), Glasgow (4800 tons), and Otranto (12,100 tons) were at sea to the westward of Coronel, in Chile, when it was reported that there were enemy's ships in the neighbourhood. The two first-named ships were armoured cruisers of large size, but not too well gunned for their displacement. The Good Hope had a couple of 9·2-inch guns and sixteen 6-inch guns, the Monmouth fourteen 6-inch guns. The Glasgow was a light cruiser with two 6-inch and ten 4-inch guns, while the Otranto was merely a big mail-boat, belonging to the Orient line, armed as a mercantile auxiliary.

At 4.20 the smoke of hostile ships was made out on the horizon, and about a quarter to six the British squadron was formed in line ahead in the order in which their names have been already noted. The enemy came in sight about this time at 12 miles distance, but kept away as long as the sun was above the horizon, as it showed them up well to our gunners and was in the eyes of their own. As soon as it dipped, the light was entirely in their favour. The grey forms of their ships were but dimly discernible, whilst ours were silhouetted black against the ruddy glow of the sunset.

The following account of the action is from the pen of one of the crew of the Glasgow:[94] "By 6 p.m. we were steaming abreast each other. The Monmouth, as she passed us close on our port side, gave us a few cheers, which were readily returned. Everyone was stripped and ready, and all seemed satisfied to think that we had found the enemy after searching for nearly three months. The sea was still very rough, and the ships were washing down forward. The enemy's squadron seemed to be going faster than we were, and were getting on our port bow. The sun was setting in the west, and we must have made very nice targets for the Germans, as we were between them and the sun. They had some dark clouds behind them and were difficult to see even then. As soon as the sun had set they altered course towards us, and we turned slightly towards them, the Otranto going away off our starboard quarter and taking no part in the action. As soon as the enemy were within 14,000 yards they opened fire, each of the armoured ships firing at the Good Hope and Monmouth, while the two smaller ships concentrated their fire on the Glasgow, although they did not open fire until the fourth ship had joined them and they had got much closer than when the armoured ships opened fire.

"The Good Hope and Monmouth returned the enemy's fire, and soon the action became general. We were very close to each other on the British side, but the Germans were much farther apart. The enemy soon got the range of our ships and were hitting the Good Hope and the Monmouth very often, and it was not long before the Good Hope was on fire. Soon after the Monmouth took fire, but this was kept under.

"After about forty minutes the Good Hope seemed to break out of the line and close towards the enemy, and she was not seen again (although some state that she was still firing her after-turret)." According to the official report made by the captain of the Glasgow: "At 7.50 p.m. an immense explosion occurred on board Good Hope amidships, flames reaching 200 feet high. Total destruction must have followed. It was now quite dark."

The Monmouth and Glasgow still fought on gamely, both sides firing at the flashes, the Germans firing salvoes. "The Monmouth was very badly damaged by this time", continues the account we have already quoted, "and she hauled off to starboard, followed by the Glasgow, as the big ships had now commenced to fire on us as well as the small ones. It was very dark now, but owing to the fire on the Monmouth no doubt the enemy had a good mark to aim at. The enemy's fire ceased as soon as we turned away to starboard. It could easily be seen as we passed the Monmouth that she had suffered heavily, and it appeared to me that she was still on fire. She also had a list to port and was down by the head.

"Our captain made a signal to her, asking if she was all right, and was told that she was making water badly forward and was trying to get her stern to the sea. He then asked him if he could steer north-west, but received no reply. The enemy were now coming towards us, and we thought that we might have drawn them away from the Monmouth, but in a few minutes we could see search-lights and gun-flashes, and we knew that it was the Monmouth they were firing on." Under the growing light of a full moon, which was now rising slowly in the stormy heavens, the practically undamaged German squadron was seen bearing down directly on the little Glasgow, which, as she could by no possibility be of any assistance to the Monmouth, made off at full speed to avoid annihilation, and by 8.50 had run the enemy out of sight. About half an hour later a number of flashes were seen afar off, which, without doubt, marked the death throes of the gallant Monmouth. The Glasgow was badly knocked about. She had an enormous gash in her side 9 feet long and 3 feet wide, besides minor injuries. But she lived not only to fight another day, but to take signal revenge on her opponents.

"Nothing could have been more admirable than the conduct of the officers and men throughout. Though it was most trying to receive a great volume of fire without chance of returning it adequately, all kept perfectly cool, there was no wild firing, and discipline was the same as at battle-practice. When target ceased to be visible, gunlayers spontaneously ceased fire."[95]

It must be borne in mind that the only guns in the British squadron equal in power to the sixteen 8·2-inch much more modern weapons of the two big German armoured cruisers were the two 9·2-inch guns carried by the Good Hope, one of which was knocked out ten minutes after the battle began.

The Glasgow, on the second day after her escape, had a curious experience, if we are to believe the story of one of her men, as she ran plump into a sleeping whale! "That was another shock for us. The ship trembled and we all rushed up on deck to find out what had happened." The Glasgow picked up the pre-Dreadnought battleship Canopus, which at the time of the fight was unfortunately 200 miles away to the southward, and both ships proceeded in company to Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands. The German ships do not appear to have followed them, but went to Valparaiso, presumably to send home news of their victory. The news of the disaster to Sir Christopher Cradock's squadron naturally created great enthusiasm in Germany and corresponding grief in this country. But the naval authorities, in dead secrecy, at once prepared to settle accounts with Von Spee and his ships. On the 8th December, just over a month after the catastrophe off Coronel, their efforts bore the fullest fruit. On the previous day a squadron consisting of the battle-cruisers Invincible and Inflexible and the cruisers Carnarvon, Cornwall, Bristol, and Kent, under the command of Sir F. C. Doveton Sturdee, had arrived at Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands, their crews greeting the Glasgow, which was lying there in company with the Canopus, with round after round of cheering.

The inhabitants of these remote islands were unfeignedly glad to see the new arrivals, since they had received warning that they might expect a German raid. At 8 a.m. the look-outs on Sapper Hill to the south-west of Port Stanley reported columns of smoke coming up over the south-west horizon. Soon afterwards a two-funnelled ship and a four-funneller were made out, and the Kent was ordered out to the harbour mouth and orders given for all ships to raise steam for full speed. The Kent, it is interesting to note, went into action this day flying the silken ensign and jack which had been presented by the ladies of Kent on her first commission. To conceal the presence of the two big battle-cruisers, which might be spotted by their tripod masts, these two ships were ordered to stoke up with oil fuel, and the thick black greasy smoke billowing from their funnels soon shrouded the harbour with a dusky veil. Twenty minutes later other smoke columns were reported more to the southward.

The two ships first observed, which proved to be the Gneisenau and NÜrnberg, continued to advance steadily towards the island, training their guns on the wireless station, and about an hour and a half after they had first been sighted came within 11,000 yards of the Canopus, which let fly at them with her big guns, firing over the low-lying land between the south side of the harbour and the open sea. The Germans at once hoisted their colours and turned away. Then, seeing the Kent at the harbour mouth, they turned towards her, but very shortly afterwards turned away again and went off at full speed towards their consorts, who were now coming up. It is thought that they must have got a glimpse of the "surprise packet", in the shape of the Invincible and Inflexible, that was awaiting their advent.

At a quarter to ten the Carnarvon, Inflexible, Invincible, and Cornwall weighed and stood out to sea in the order named, and overtook the Kent and the Glasgow, which had gone out and joined her a few minutes earlier. The German ships were now in full sight to the south-east—hull down, and doing the "Goeben glide" for all they were worth. In the British ships the stokers were working furiously, the smoke belching in thick volumes from the funnels; and, with every man at his post, their decks flooded with water as a preventive against fire, and hoses ready, the vessels gradually gathered way.

At 10.25 the big ships were making 23 knots, and gradually drew ahead of their consorts. The Invincible led, the Inflexible followed at some little distance on her starboard quarter. The Glasgow—all on board burning with eagerness to avenge their late squadron-mates—was ordered to keep at 2 miles distance from the flagship. It was a fine, clear, bright day, comparatively warm for those latitudes, and it was easy to keep the enemy in sight.

Shortly before one o'clock the two battle-cruisers opened fire with their big guns, presently concentrating on the light cruiser Leipzig. She was not hit, but the big shots crept closer and closer, till after about a quarter of an hour she turned away to the south-west, followed by the Dresden and NÜrnberg. At the same time the remaining German ships, the two big armoured cruisers, turned slightly to port and began to return the fire of our battle-cruisers. Thenceforward the fighting resolved itself into two battles, one between the big ships, the other between the smaller cruisers.

As soon as the German light cruisers turned off to their starboard hand the Kent, Glasgow, and Cornwall started after them in accordance with the orders they had received from Admiral Sturdee. The Bristol had previously signalled that three more Germans, looking like colliers or transports, had appeared off the Falklands, and, having received orders to take the armed auxiliary cruiser Macedonia with her and destroy them, had proceeded to chase them to the westward. The strangers turned out to be two and not three ships, the Baden and St. Isabel. Both were captured and sunk after the removal of their crews.

Meanwhile the Invincible and Inflexible were pressing closer and closer on the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. "Suddenly we altered course", wrote a midshipman on board the Invincible to his father,[96] "and made for the enemy. I had not noticed we were closing, and when their first salvo went off I was still on the top of the turret. I could see all the shells coming at us, and I felt they were all coming straight at me. However, they all missed except one, which hit the side of the ship near the ward-room, and made a great green flash, and sent splinters flying all round. I hopped below armour quickly and started working again. We were nearing the Scharnhorst and began firing for all we were worth. We hit again and again. First our left gun sent her big crane spinning over the side. Then our right gun blew her funnel to atoms, and then another shot from the left gun sent her bridge and part of the forecastle sky-high.

"We were not escaping free, however. Shots were hitting us repeatedly, and the spray from the splashes of their shells was hiding the Scharnhorst from us. Suddenly a great livid flame rushed through the gun-ports, and splinters flew all round, and we felt the whole 150 or 200 tons of the turret going up in the air. We thought we were going over the side and would get drowned like rats in a trap. However, we came down again with a crash that shook the turret dreadfully, and continued firing as hard as ever. Nothing in the turret was out of order at all. The range continued to come down, and the whistles of the shells that flew over us grew into a regular shriek. Down came the range, 11,000, 10,000, 9000, 8800 yards. We were hitting the Scharnhorst nearly every time. One beauty from our right gun got one of their turrets fair and square and sent it whizzing over the side." By 3.30 the Scharnhorst was in a bad way. She was on fire, smoke and steam poured out of her in many places, and when a shell would knock a big hole in her side a dull furnace-like glow was seen within. Several of her guns were out of action and she now turned partially to starboard, apparently with the idea of getting her starboard guns to bear.

Just after four o'clock she was observed to give a heavy roll to port. She slowly listed farther and farther over, till she lay on her beam-ends, and at 4.17 disappeared below the waves in a dense cloud of smoke and steam. The Gneisenau, passing on the far side of the mass of scattered debris marking the grave of her consort, still spat out defiance from her guns. But her hours were numbered, and everyone on board must have known that it was only a matter of minutes before her two huge opponents settled accounts with her. She put up a first-rate fight for nearly two hours longer. She ranged her guns well and hit her adversaries again and again. But each of them was much more than her match, and their great 850-pound projectiles got her time after time.

"5.10. Hit, hit!" wrote one of the Gneisenau's officers in a pocket diary.[97] "5.12. Hit! 5.14. Hit, hit, hit! again! 5.20. After-turret gone. 5.40. Hit, hit! On fire everywhere. 5.41. Hit, hit! burning everywhere and sinking. 5.45. Hit! men dying everywhere. 5.46. Hit, hit!" The ship must have been an inferno. At last she could only fire a single gun at intervals, and at 5.40 the Invincible, Inflexible, and Carnarvon closed in on the stricken leviathan and the "cease fire" was sounded. At six o'clock she turned slowly, slowly, over to port till only her rounded side was visible lying in the water like a great whale, with those of her crew who survived walking and crawling over it. Then, suddenly, down she went amid a swirl of waters, leaving those of her crew who were not sucked down with her struggling amid the waves. During the fighting the weather had changed for the worse, the sea had begun to rise, and now a cold drizzle was falling.

"Out boats," was the order on board the British ships, and no pains were spared to rescue their late enemies. Some of them had their heads quite turned and tried to kill their rescuers, or jumped into the sea again and drowned themselves. "One officer tried to shoot us with an automatic pistol, but it was wrenched from his hand and we escaped," wrote the midshipman before quoted. It is thought that before she sank 600 of the Gneisenau's ship's company had been killed or wounded. The British seamen, working indefatigably, were only able to save less than 200, fourteen of whom subsequently died from the effects of cold and exposure.

We must now return to the other running fight which had been proceeding between the smaller ships on both sides. The Germans had no notion of fighting if they could avoid it, and seem to have gone off "helter-skelter" without assuming any definite formation. The Glasgow was our fastest cruiser and was ordered to head off the NÜrnberg and Leipzig. As for the Dresden, she seems to have got a very long start from the first and was never overtaken. The Glasgow opened fire on the Leipzig and NÜrnberg with her 6-inch guns about three o'clock, and succeeded in making them alter course. The former turned to meet the Glasgow, while the latter was obliged to turn in a direction which rendered it easier for the Kent to come up with her. The Kent, an older and slower ship than the NÜrnberg, made a record spurt and succeeded in getting within range of the German. She had but little coal on board. "The old Kent set off and her engines worked up to 22 knots—more than she had ever done on her trials. Then the word was passed that there was hardly any coal left. 'Well,' said the captain, 'have a go at the boats.' So they broke up all the boats, smeared them with oil, and put them in the furnaces. Then in went all the armchairs from the ward-room and the chests from the officers' cabins. They next burnt the ladders and all. Every bit of wood was sent to the stokehold. The result was that the Kent's speed became 24 knots."[98] But it was five o'clock before she could get within range and both ships went at it hammer and tongs for an hour, by which time the NÜrnberg was evidently on fire. The sea was by now rather choppy and the atmosphere somewhat misty. Just after half-past six the NÜrnberg, well alight forward, ceased firing. The Kent thereupon ceased fire also and closed in to 3300 yards; but, as the German still kept her colours flying, she once more set her guns to work. Five minutes of this and down fluttered the German ensign, and the Kent set herself to save as many of her late opponents as she could; but she was, of course, handicapped by having burnt her boats, and only twelve could be rescued with the assistance of the Cornwall. It was nearly half-past seven before the NÜrnberg took her final plunge.

The Kent was hit a considerable number of times and lost four killed and a dozen wounded, nearly all by one shell. She had, moreover, a very narrow escape from destruction, from which she was only saved by the heroism of Sergeant Charles Mayes of the Royal Marines. In the words of the notification awarding him the Conspicuous Gallantry Medal: "A shell burst and ignited some cordite charges in the casemate. Sergeant Mayes picked up a charge of cordite and threw it away. He then got hold of a fire-hose and flooded the compartment, extinguishing the fire in some empty shell-bags which were burning. The extinction of this fire saved a disaster which might have led to the loss of the ship."

While the Kent was disposing of the NÜrnberg, the Glasgow and afterwards the Cornwall tackled the Leipzig. "We continued to fight the Leipzig," writes one[99] of the Glasgows," and the Cornwall was now coming up to help us, so she hauled off again, and we followed. We soon got close enough to open fire again, and this time we had begun to make good shooting though it was at a long range. She had then turned slightly towards us, and we began to get her range; but she was altering her course so much that it made it extremely difficult to hit her. We got one shell through our control and the splinters killed one man and injured several others. This was the only shell that did much damage. We were getting much closer now and our shells were hitting her as her fire slackened, but we had to be careful owing to the enemy throwing mines over the side. As we got closer ... our fire became even more effective, she turned to port and we had to cease fire for a while. Then the other battery had a chance and they made some very good shooting. By this time she had altered course again and this allowed the Cornwall to open fire on her, but it looked to us as if her fire was going very short. The Leipzig now fired at the Cornwall and we got up fairly close and poured in a heavy fire. She then took fire on her stern, and her mast and funnel went over the side. Then she was smoking amidships and a shell knocked away the upper half of her second funnel. She was now beaten but she refused to answer our signal to surrender, and after a while we opened fire on her again, and, as it was by this time quite dusk, we could see the shells strike and burst. She was lying quite helpless now and burning fiercely from amidships to the after end. The smoke which came from her in dense clouds, came across us and we could smell the faint burning.

"Then she fired one of her guns, and this was a signal for a fresh outburst from us. We kept steaming round near the burning ship, and then we saw them fire a white rocket. We and the Cornwall then lowered boats and went nearer to the now sinking ship." "When we went right close to", says another eyewitness, "she looked just like a night-watchman's bucket—all holes and fire. She was a mass of white heat. You would not think an iron ship would blaze like that." To continue to quote the previous narrator: "Our boats had just arrived near the ship, when she rolled gently over and then sank. Our boats picked up ten of them and the Cornwall's four.... Everyone seemed overjoyed to think we had avenged the loss of the Good Hope and Monmouth, and especially so later on when we heard that the Kent had sunk the NÜrnberg!"

The Glasgow, which had fought and escaped at Coronel, and participated in the signal revenge taken upon Von Spee and his squadron off the Falklands, was lucky enough to assist in the final act of retribution when the Dresden, which had got away for a time, was caught and sunk off Juan Fernandez—Robinson Crusoe's island. The Glasgow and Orama came up from the south-west, and presently the Kent appeared hurrying up from the south-east. After the exchange of some shots the Dresden appeared to be on fire and hoisted a very large white flag, while many of her crew jumped overboard and made for her boats, which were in the water at a little distance off. "As soon as it was clear she did not intend to fight again, we lowered boats and sent medical aid, and several of the wounded were brought alongside the ship for treatment." Eventually the magazine seems to have been blown up—possibly intentionally by her officers, as just previously the German ensign was re-hoisted, and she sank with it and the white flag of surrender both flying.

With the sinking of the Dresden the German Navy disappeared from the ocean. Not a man-of-war of German nationality floated in the "Seven Seas", and only in the security of their own fortified harbours and in the mine-defended area of the Baltic dared the "black, white, and red flag" show itself.