Dietrich, somewhat disconcerted, paused, and then asked, “Where, sir, do you intend the English squadron to be, should, unhappily, a conflict ensue between the American Navy and that of his Imperial Majesty?” “Ask Dewey,” was the only answer vouchsafed, and the German retired down the side of the vessel growling in his beard.
Immediately significant orders were issued, and the four British men-of-war steamed across the line of the German vessels, the Immortalité leading, and the others following in line, and when the senior vessel was about two ship-lengths off, the band of the Olympia played “God Save the Queen,” and the band of the Immortalité responded with “The Star-spangled Banner.” It was but a common, everyday act of courtesy, but it was vastly appreciated by the Americans who witnessed it, and it was a significant hint of “hands off” to the Germans.
Towards nightfall, when it was evident that the American fleet was not going into action, the French cruisers Bayard and Pascal, and the German cruisers Kaiser and Kaiserin Augusta returned to their former anchorage. The American cruisers Concord and Petrel steamed slowly up the bay in front of the city, and anchored between it and the foreign warships, but all through the night kept the searchlight travelling over the water between them.
Next morning Dietrich sent an apology to the Yankee admiral.
The exact details were never officially divulged. The significance of this dramatic action was that it convinced the world that England was on the side of the United States, and that, to use the old familiar phrase, “Blood is thicker than water.” Hitherto, the Americans had been jealous and suspicious of Great Britain, and believed it possible that England might have sided with the Germans in the negotiations which it was understood were then taking place in Europe for the combination of the Old World forces against the States in favour of Spain. As a contemporary writer had it: “It was the first signal demonstration which the Americans received that the sympathies of their kith and kin were with them, and that the jealousy of no third Power would be allowed to interfere with the just retribution which they were about to exact from their enemy. Sir Edward made history that day. He wiped out the memories of Bunker Hill and New Orleans—so far as they were bitter memories.” That his conduct was approved at home was shown by the Government conferring on him the C.M.G. On another occasion, when in the China seas, Captain Chichester had an opportunity of making history, and make it he would have had he been supported by the Government at home. The incident shall be given in his own words:—
“I ran into Port Arthur one morning and anchored alongside a Russian cruiser. Well, there was the devil of a to-do. The Port Admiral put off and told me I could not anchor there. I said I was already anchored. He said I must weigh again and get out. I told him I wouldn’t budge an inch until it suited me, and in the meantime I must have fresh provisions and vegetables. Then there was no end to the excitement, Russian pinnaces and Chinese pinnaces darting all over the harbour. I went quietly about my business. The Chinese said they would complain to my Government. I grinned. This went on for some time, and then I got orders from home—Salisbury was getting old then, and probably a little weak—to leave Port Arthur and sail for Chefoo. When I reached Chefoo, the Russians took possession of Port Arthur. Had I remained, the history of the Far East would have changed for all time.”
With all officers with whom he had been shipmates, as with the men of the lower deck, the feeling entertained for Sir Edward was one of real affection. He was a sailor after the sailor’s own heart—bluff, hearty, and just and generous to a degree, and as fearless as he was just. In his manner of bearing there was an entire absence of that characteristic which in the service as in civil life is generally known as side. To his great disappointment he was never engaged in naval warfare; but there can be no manner of doubt that he would have proved a brilliant commander in an engagement at sea.
During the South African war in 1899 to 1900, he was again employed as Transport Officer, this time at Cape Town. It was no light matter to transport a quarter of a million men over five thousand miles of sea, and to land them at the Cape without a hitch. It was no fault of his that the troops were dumped down in chaotic groups and in unsanitary spots. All he had to do was to convey these men who were sent to him from England to Africa.
As the Morning Chronicle said:—
“During the South African war, Sir Edward Chichester, as Chief Naval Transport Officer, superintended the disembarkation of the troops, horses, guns, and provisions, which the country poured into the subcontinent. The smoothness and the skill and the absence of casualty with which that difficult work was carried through, won for the gallant officer universal approbation.”