If we claim command of the sea we must face the risks of the position. The sinking of a few men-of-war by mines or submarines will not transfer the "trident of Neptune" to a fleet which only plays for safety, any more than the destruction of one or two public buildings by a dynamitard will give him the reins of government. The "silver lining" to the cloud of our losses in men and material is the magnificent bravery and discipline displayed by the crews of the vessels attacked, officers, seamen, and marines alike. Space forbids a detailed account of each of these losses, but it is as well to mention them.

Thus the Speedy and Pathfinder, small cruisers of mature age, were blown up, the first by a mine, the second by a submarine, during September. In the month of October the cruiser Hawke, when in company with the Theseus in the North Sea, was attacked and torpedoed by a German submarine, while the Hermes, fitted as a tender for aeroplanes, was sunk in a similar way in the Channel, where, on the 27th, the German submarine service went so far as to torpedo the French steamer Amiral Ganteaume, crowded as she was with 2500 refugees. The biggest and most dramatic of the losses occasioned by the enemy submarines was the torpedoing of the three big cruisers Aboukir, Cressy, and Hogue on the morning of 22nd September. The ships were by no means new, and their loss is not to be compared with that of the many gallant men who formed their crews.

To quote the official statement issued to the Press: "The duty on which these vessels were engaged was an essential part of the arrangements by which the control of the seas and the safety of the country are maintained, and the lives lost are as usefully, as necessarily, and as gloriously devoted to the requirements of His Majesty's Service as if the loss had been incurred in a general action." The ships were in the neighbourhood of the Hook of Holland when they were attacked by the U 9—alone, according to the German story, though some of the survivors think there were more, and claim that one was sunk. The Aboukir was the first victim, and the other ships, seeing her plight, stopped, or at any rate reduced their speed, to lower their boats to pick up her men, thus giving the enemy an opportunity of torpedoing them also which he was not slow to take advantage of.

"The natural promptings of humanity have in this case led to heavy losses which would have been avoided by a strict adherence to military considerations," remarked the authorized statement published by the Press Bureau, which went on to point out the necessity of this rule being observed, especially in the case of large ships.

The material loss inflicted on the navy by the loss of the Aboukir, Cressy, and Hogue was not great. The three ships were all designed as far back as 1898, which may perhaps account for the rapidity with which they foundered, since the torpedo at that time was by no means so formidable, either as regards range, accuracy, or explosive effect, as those of to-day. It is probable, therefore, that the precautions against these weapons, in the shape of internal subdivision, were not so extensive as in our more modern ships of war. The Aboukir, Cressy, and Hogue were among our very oldest armoured cruisers, and, big as they were, had a comparatively light armament considering their 12,000 tons of displacement.

Considering the extremely limited opportunities afforded by the coyness of the German so-called "High Seas Fleet", our submarines and destroyers retaliated fairly effectively. The E 9, one of our newest submarines, commanded by Lieutenant-Commander Max K. Horton, R.N., torpedoed the Hela, a light 2000-ton cruiser of an old type, on 13th September. The ship was not a great loss to the German Navy, as she was quite an old stager, dating from 1895, but the exploit was a notable one, being carried out, as it was, well behind the Island of Heligoland, that very formidable German naval fortress.

The same boat scored another success on 6th October, when she sighted two German destroyers patrolling off the mouth of the Ems, not far from the island of Borkum, and managed to torpedo one of them—the S 126, of 420 tons. "It was an easier case than that of the Hela," said one of the E9's crew on her return to Harwich, "but luck was with us."

"When we rose," he said, "we saw two German destroyers travelling at a speed of some 30 knots. Our commander was at the periscope, and ordered the forward tubes to be fired." They then rose to the surface, and the commander said: "Look at her; the beggar is going down." Then they saw the German rise perpendicularly, and men rushed up to her stern and dived into the water. The submarine then submerged and made her way back.

"I don't want to boast," continued the narrator, "but we got our 'rooties'[86] home. It was not a bad performance."[87]

Again, a smart little action was fought on the afternoon of 17th October between the light cruiser Undaunted, commanded by Captain Fox, who was blown up in the Amphion—with the destroyers Lance, Lennox, Legion, and Loyal, and four German destroyers, all of which were sunk.

"We steamed out of Harwich," wrote an officer who was engaged, "with all the ships' companies jubilant and eager to get into the danger zone, as it was reported that a 'certain amount of liveliness' prevailed in the North Sea.[88] All was quiet till two o'clock, when, heading up northwards and skirting the Dutch coast-line, we sighted the smoke of four vessels. Our captain immediately cleared for action, and signalled the order to chase. We steamed at top speed, with two destroyers disposed on either side of us. It was a never-to-be-forgotten sight—nerves strained to their utmost tension, and everybody as keen as mustard. Sea and spray flew all over us, and covered us fore and aft. The German destroyers turned about and fled, but we had the advantage in speed, soon got within range with our 6-inch bow gun, and opened fire.... Once within effective range our 4-inch semi-automatic guns blazed away, the destroyers acting independently. The Germans, seeing themselves cornered, altered course, with the intention of obtaining a better strategic position. Most of their shooting was aimed at the destroyers. Lusty cheers rang from our ships as the first German destroyer disappeared. A 6-inch lyddite shell struck her just below the bridge. She toppled over on her beam-ends like a wounded bird, then righted herself level with the surface, and finally plunged, bow first, all in about two minutes.

"We had by this time closed, and the enemy commenced firing their torpedoes. They must have discharged at least eight, one missing our stern by only a few yards. Fortunately for us, we caught sight of the bubbles on the surface denoting its track, and just missed the fate of the Aboukir, Cressy, Hogue, and Hawke by a hairbreadth. At 2·55 p.m. the second of the enemy's vessels was seen to be out of action, being ablaze fore and aft, showing the fearful havoc our lyddite shells were making. As each shell hit its mark, funnels, bridge, torpedo-tubes, and all the deck fittings disappeared like magic, dense fumes from the explosive covering the vessels fore and aft. We actually passed over the spot where the first vessel had sunk, and just for the space of a couple of seconds, as we were tearing through the water at over 30 knots an hour, we caught sight of scores of poor wretches floating about and clinging to charred and blackened debris and wreckage. This was truly a pitiable sight, but as we had two more combatants to put out of action, to stop at such close range, even to save life, would have been courting disaster. We should have been merely exposing ourselves to torpedoes. We had to tear along and try and forget the gruesome result of our work. The second ship, now a mass of seething flame, sank quite level with the water, and we soon had the remaining two literally holed and maimed. Their firing was very poor and inaccurate, although several shells flew around, throwing shrapnel bullets about. It was a marvel that none struck us. The Loyal and Lennox got quite near one of the German vessels. The surviving German fired her last torpedo, which, however, went wide of the mark. During these activities we had closed in with the last of the Kaiser's destroyers, and placed her hors de combat. The Legion had two wounded. By 3·30 the action was over, and the German fleet had been reduced by four units. Then came the order to get out boats and save life. Altogether we saved 2 officers and 29 men.... Those wretched Teutons made a good fight. They were, of course, completely outmatched."

A few days afterwards the destroyer Badger did a smart piece of work in ramming and destroying a German submarine off the Dutch coast. The Admiralty wired to her commanding officer—Commander C. A. Fremantle—that they were "very pleased with your good service". But about the same time our submarine E 3 was reported to have been lost in the North Sea. The navy made rather a surprise appearance on the Belgian coast towards the end of October, enfilading the right of the German attack on Nieuport, which was being stoutly defended by the Belgians, and formed the extreme left of the "far-flung battle line" of the Allies. Three "Monitors"—novel craft in our service—which had been building for Brazil, but had been taken up by the Admiralty at the outbreak of war, played the leading part to begin with, but later on other heavier ships took a hand in the proceedings. The "Monitors" were especially well adapted for work in the shallow waters between Dunkirk and ZeebrÜgge. Their appearance was unexpected by the Germans, who suffered severely from their fire, and were unable to press their attack against Nieuport. The "Monitors" Mersey, Severn, and Humber, assisted by destroyers and a French flotilla, steamed within a couple of miles of the shore and were in action from 6 a.m. till 6 p.m. on the first day. Their fire was incessant, one vessel alone firing 1000 lyddite and shrapnel shells. The German trenches, which were about 3 miles inland, were especially aimed at, and the most terrible execution was done upon the troops in them. The German batteries among the big sand-dunes along the beach also came in for a good deal of attention. One battery of field-guns was entirely wiped out, a train collected to force the passage of the Yser was totally dispersed, an ammunition column blown up, and General von Tripp and the whole of his staff, who were near Westende, were killed.

The Germans seemed unable to make an effective reply, and even an aeroplane sent up to signal the ranges by smoke-balls proved a failure. By the end of the day the Germans had lost 4000 men and had been driven from the coast, where nothing was visible but dense masses of black smoke and lurid patches of flame. The British fire was extremely rapid, some of the guns firing no less than fourteen rounds a minute at times. A few casualties were suffered by the British, but no material damage of a serious nature was sustained, although exposed both to gun-fire and, it is stated, to submarine attacks, which were warded off by the attendant destroyers.

The British Navy continued to do valuable work on the Belgian coast for a considerable time. The Venerable, a pre-Dreadnought battleship, did great execution with her big 12-inch guns, which outranged the German batteries. In November, ZeebrÜgge, where the enemy had established a submarine station, was heavily bombarded and considerable damage done. The British casualties during these coastal operations were but slight. The destroyer Falcon, however, received one very destructive shell, which killed 1 officer and 8 men and wounded 1 officer and 15 men.