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 bombproof. 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.
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.