The Glasgow took up her self-appointed station on the port quarter of the Cornwall (see Plan, [p. 112]), and the action developed into a running fight between our two ships and the Leipzig, who concentrated her fire on the Cornwall, which, however, had superior armament:
| Name | Tonnage | Armament | Speed | Completion |
| Cornwall | 9,800 | 14—6" | 23.68 | 1904 |
| Glasgow | 4,800 | 2—6" | ||
| 10—4" | 25.8 | 1900 | ||
| Leipzig | 3,200 | 10—4.1" | 23.5 | 1906 |
| From "Brassey's Naval Annual." | ||||
Mist and a light drizzling rain now set in, so we broke into independent firing on account of the difficulty of spotting the fall of shot. The range opened to 9,800 yards, and still we were being hit, which clearly showed the efficiency of the German 4.1-inch gun. Our course soon took us out of range, so we again turned towards the enemy, ceasing fire from 5.12 to 5.29 P.M. This was analogous to the interval that occurred in the battle-cruisers' action, and is significant; both took place on the same day, and both were due to the same cause—namely, the idea of making full use of the heavier armament in our ships, and thus eliminating the risk of incurring unnecessary casualties.
Shortly after 5.30 P.M. the Cornwall was hit no fewer than nine times in as many minutes at a range of over 9,000 yards, so course was again altered to starboard, a broadside being fired as the ship turned. We continued these tactics, closing in and firing the foremost group of guns and then turning out again as soon as we had got in too close, at the same time getting in broadside fire, by which we managed to score a number of hits with common shell.
Fire was checked at 5.46, slow salvoes being resorted to on account of the difficulties of spotting. At this time a heavy thud was felt forward, which made the whole ship quiver; a shell had landed in the paint room, where it burst and made rather a mess of things. No material damage resulted, and there was fortunately no fire. At 6.15 we started using lyddite instead of common shell, having again decreased the range. The result was stupendous, the dark smoke and flash caused by those projectiles as they struck could be plainly seen, and not long afterwards the enemy was on fire. His return fire began to slacken appreciably, though he still managed to get a hit every now and again. Captain Ellerton decided to close and went in to nearly 7,000 yards, turning and letting the German have it from the port broadside.
It was now 6.35, and the news came through by wireless from the flagship that the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau had been sunk. It passed round the ship like lightning, even penetrating the watertight bulkheads in some miraculous manner, and cheered up all hands tremendously.
Keeping the range between 7,000 and 8,000 yards, our ships continued to do great damage, and at 6.51 the enemy was seen to be badly on fire forward. In spite of this he continued to fire with great spirit, and even registered a few hits between 6.55 and 7.45 P.M. Then his firing stopped completely, and it was observed that he was on fire the whole length of the ship. The scuttles showed up like a series of blood-red dots gleaming from the ship's side, the whole of the foremost funnel and part of the centre one had disappeared, the upper works were severely damaged, while smoke was issuing here and there. The ship, indeed, presented a sorry spectacle.
All this time the Glasgow, which was still on the quarter of the Cornwall, had also been busily engaged with the Leipzig, but at a greater range.
We ceased firing at 7.10, thinking that the enemy would strike his colours; but not a bit of it, so three minutes later we reopened fire with reluctance, though only for a couple of minutes. We closed in to 4,700 yards, turning 16 points in order to keep well out of torpedo range, and gave him a few more salvoes of lyddite with our starboard guns. The light was beginning to wane, and though twilight is very prolonged in these southern regions during the summer, it would soon have been too dark to see through the telescopic sights. At 7.43 an explosion took place on board the Leipzig; three minutes later the mainmast went slowly over, and finally collapsed with a crash. We waited to give her an opportunity to haul down her colours and surrender, and then opened fire again just before 8 P.M. At last, at 8.12, the Germans sent up two green lights as signals of distress, at which we both immediately closed in, stopped, and proceeded to get out boats. Darkness fell rapidly, and searchlights were turned on to the enemy, lighting up the ghastly scene where men could be seen jumping clear of the ship into the icy-cold water. The Leipzig was heeled over to port, almost on her beam ends; she only had a bit of one funnel left, and all the after part of the ship was in flames. The fire on her forecastle had also burst into flame. Thick clouds of white steam escaping, showed up against the dense black smoke, and increased the dramatic effect. Our little boats became visible in the beams of the searchlights, as they rowed round to pick up survivors. At 9.21 P.M. a shower of sparks suddenly announced an explosion, directly after which the Leipzig foundered. Several of our boats were holed, and we only succeeded in saving six officers and nine men between the two of us, all of whom, however, survived the extreme cold. They told us that before the ship was abandoned the Kingston valves had been opened.
No further casualties had occurred on board the Glasgow since those already mentioned, as after joining the Cornwall she had not come under direct fire, although some projectiles intended for the latter did hit her. The Cornwall was even more fortunate in having no casualties at all except for a solitary pet canary, in spite of having eighteen direct hits not counting splinter holes, of which there were forty-two in one funnel alone. This absence of casualties, which was also a feature of the battle-cruiser action, speaks for the efficient handling of the ship by Captain Ellerton.