We will now follow the fortunes of the German squadron under Admiral von Spee. You will remember that it left Kiao-chau early in August for the South American coast. Von Spee's squadron, which consisted of modern ships, comprised two armoured cruisers, the Gneisenau and the Scharnhorst; and three light cruisers, the Dresden, Leipzig, and Nürnberg. The first two vessels had a speed of at least 23 knots, and were armed with eight 8.2-inch guns, six of 5.9-inch, and eighteen 21-pounders. The Dresden was a sister ship to the Emden, the Nürnberg was slightly smaller, and the Leipzig smaller still. The object of this squadron was to prey on British commerce in the Pacific. The Emden, as you know, was detailed for similar work in the Indian Ocean, and the Karlsruhe in the South Atlantic.
I have told at length of the short and merry life of the Emden. The Karlsruhe was not so successful, but she destroyed no fewer than thirteen steamers in the course of a week or two. She was remarkable for the number of attendant vessels which accompanied her, some of them her own captures. These she employed as scouts to warn her of danger, and to give notice of vessels which might be seized. It is said that she had many hairbreadth escapes from British cruisers. Towards the end of November she disappeared, and though many rumours were afloat, nothing was certainly known of her whereabouts. In March 1915 it was reported that she had gone down off the West Indian island of Grenada.
Destruction of the German Raider Emden by H.M.S. Sydney of the Australian Navy, November 9, 1914.
You can easily understand that without a regular supply of coal and provisions the German commerce-raiders could not long keep the seas. When a fighting ship in time of war puts into a neutral port, she may not receive more coal and provisions than will carry her to the nearest harbour of her own land, and she may not obtain any further supplies at that port for three months. Some of the South American states, however, were very slack in observing the rules of naval warfare, and two of them—Ecuador and Colombia—actually permitted German coaling and provisioning bases to be set up on their coasts, and allowed their wireless stations to be used for the purpose of ascertaining the movements of the British cruisers which were trying to catch the raiders. When Admiral von Spee sailed for the western coast of South America, he was going into waters where there were many harbours in which he could coal, and many friends who would see that he was well supplied. German merchants abound in Chile.
On 14th September von Spee's squadron touched at Apia, and on the 22nd two of his cruisers arrived off Papeete, in Tahiti, one of the loveliest of the Pacific Islands. A small French gunboat was sunk, and the town was bombarded. Then his squadron of five warships with attendant colliers concentrated near Valparaiso, and he was ready, like a twentieth-century Drake, to prey ruthlessly upon the merchantmen that came round the Horn.
Von Spee did not expect that he would go unmolested. He knew that Britain had a squadron which was even then cruising northwards along the coast of Chile, under the command of a renowned seaman, Sir Christopher Cradock. But this squadron was all too weak to meet him in fair fight. It consisted of two armoured cruisers, the Good Hope and the Monmouth, the light cruiser Glasgow, and an armed liner, the Otranto, the latter being incapable of engaging a ship of war. None of the vessels was speedy, and none was heavily armed. The Canopus, a seventeen-year-old battleship, was on its way to meet him, but had not yet arrived. Von Spee could count on sixteen 8.2-inch guns, and to oppose them Cradock had but two 9.2-inch guns. When the Canopus joined him his big-gun armament would be increased by four 12-inch guns, but even then the British squadron would be inferior in weight of broadside to the German squadron. Nor had the British any advantage of speed. The Glasgow could do 26 knots an hour, but the Monmouth could only do 23. In big guns, speed, and armour the Germans were greatly superior. Cradock was hourly expecting reinforcements, but for some reason they were not forthcoming. One of his officers wrote as follows on 12th October: "We think the Admiralty have forgotten their trade-route squadron 10,000 miles from London town. Five German cruisers against us. Pray that we may prevent them concentrating."
They had concentrated, as we know, and Cradock had now to decide whether he would give battle with his three cruisers or wait for the arrival of the Canopus. He was a dashing, fearless officer, and he took the risk. He sent off a wireless message to the Canopus: "I am going to attack the enemy now," and ordered speed to be increased to 17 knots. It is doubtful whether the Canopus ever received the message, for the enemy was "jamming the wireless"—that is, was sending out bogus messages to interfere with the messages of the British flagship. At any rate, the Canopus did not join Cradock, and he steamed without her towards the foe.
The Glasgow swept northward, and about four o'clock in the afternoon of 1st November sighted the enemy. She sent off wireless signals to the flagship, Good Hope, but they were jammed. The Monmouth and Otranto joined the Glasgow soon after, and at five o'clock the Good Hope came up. Both squadrons were now moving southwards, the Germans having the inshore course. At the head of the British line was the Good Hope, with the Monmouth, Glasgow, and Otranto following, one behind the other. The German line was headed by the Scharnhorst, with the Gneisenau, Dresden, and Nürnberg following.
Try to imagine the scene. The sea was running high; there was a stiff wind blowing, and away in the west the sun was sinking in a flaming sky of crimson and gold. Against the bright sunset the British ships stood out sharp and clear, while the German vessels were shrouded by the gathering gloom and the dark background of the land. Behind them were the long ridges and lofty peaks of the Andes, their eternal snows glowing red in the light of the setting sun. Amidst the roar of sea and wind the two squadrons raced south in the teeth of the gale. The day was speeding fast to its close, and the German admiral, owing to the superior speed of his ships, was able to choose the range at which the battle was to be fought.