Up to this instant the battle had been fought at very close range, and the dozen or more German cruisers seemed to be rapidly overhauling the mosquito fleet; but, with the sudden turning of the little squadron to the west, there came the single boom of a great gun from out the northwest, heralding the approach of the British battleships—magnificent vessels of the First Battle Squadron.
As the great British guns opened upon the enemy, the Germans turned to flee; but it was too late. They had been lured too far into the open. British strategy had proved too much for the Teutonic mind. Badly battered by the terrific and accurate fire of the British, the Germans turned, and, as fast as their numerous wounds would allow, ran for Helgoland.
Above the sharp banging of the smaller guns, came the great booms from the giant British battleships.
Suddenly one of the enemy’s cruisers, the Köln, burst into a brilliant sheet of flame. A shell had exploded in her boiler-room. There was a terrible explosion, and the vessel seemed to leap into the air like a live thing of fire, only to disappear beneath the water with a great hiss a moment later.
A great British cheer rang out across the water; and the Germans, if possible, fled faster than before. Evidently the Germans had expected assistance from the remainder of the fleet, which had been so long bottled up in Helgoland; but no help came.
In spite of the fact that the German vessels under the protection of the great guns of the fort were undoubtedly ready for instant action, the order for them to sally forth to the assistance of their comrades came not.
Gradually the German ships drew off, pursued for a great distance by the victorious British fleet, leaving four vessels at the bottom of the North Sea, two others burning, and, with practically every vessel that had been engaged in the action suffering serious damage. British marksmanship had been too much for them, and they retired to the protection of the great guns of Helgoland, till they presently should once more summon sufficient courage to face the British.
The loss of the Germans was enormous—that of the English comparatively light, only thirty-two lives lost, and less than sixty men wounded.
Several of the British ships had been struck by German shells, but all were able to steam away, although for a short time the Arethusa received some aid from the Sylph. The Liberty also had been seriously damaged.
While the smaller guns of the Sylph had prevented her from working any great damage on the heavily armored German vessels, the little scout cruiser had, nevertheless, been right in the hottest of the fight. One of her men was killed and three were wounded.