He will also have under his orders Cornwall, Bristol, Orama and Macedonia.
Essex is to remain in West Indies.
On the 18th Admiral Cradock telegraphed:—
‘I consider it possible that Karlsruhe has been driven West, and is to join the other five. I trust circumstances will enable me to force an action, but fear that strategically, owing to Canopus, the speed of my squadron cannot exceed 12 knots.’
Thus it is clear that up to this date the Admiral fully intended to keep concentrated on the Canopus, even though his squadron speed should be reduced to 12 knots. Officially the Canopus could steam from 16 to 17 knots. Actually in the operations she steamed 15½.
Let us now examine the situation which was developing.[[83]] The Scharnhorst and the Gneisenau were drawing near the South Coast of America. On the way they might be met by the light cruisers Leipzig, Dresden and Nürnberg. The squadron which might thus be formed would be entirely composed of fast modern ships. The two large cruisers were powerful vessels. They carried each eight 8–inch guns arranged in pairs on the upper deck, six of which were capable of firing on either beam. Both ships being on permanent foreign service were fully manned with the highest class of German crews; and they had in fact only recently distinguished themselves as among the best shooting ships of the whole German Navy. Against these two vessels and their attendant light cruisers, Admiral Cradock had the Good Hope and the Monmouth. The Good Hope was a fine old ship from the Third Fleet with a 9·2–inch gun at either end and a battery of sixteen 6–inch guns amidships. She had exceptionally good speed (23 knots) for a vessel of her date. Her crew consisted mainly of reservists, and though she had good gunlayers she could not be expected to compare in gunnery efficiency with the best manned ships either in the British or German Navies. The Monmouth was one of the numerous County class against which Fisher had so often inveighed—a large ship with good speed but light armour, and carrying nothing heavier than a battery of fourteen 6–inch guns, of which nine could fire on the beam. These two British armoured cruisers had little chance in an action against the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau. No gallantry or devotion could make amends for the disparity in strength, to say nothing of gunnery. If brought to battle only the greatest good fortune could save them from destruction. It was for this reason that the moment the Admiralty began to apprehend the possibility of the arrival of the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau on the South American station, we sent a capital ship to reinforce Admiral Cradock. Our first intention had been to send the Indomitable from the Dardanelles, and at one time she had already reached Gibraltar on her way to South America when increasing tension with Turkey forced her to return to the Dardanelles. As we did not conceive ourselves able to spare a single battle-cruiser from the Grand Fleet at that time, there was nothing for it but to send an old battleship; and by the end of September the Canopus was already steaming from Abrolhos rocks through the South Atlantic.
With the Canopus, Admiral Cradock’s squadron was safe. The Scharnhorst and Gneisenau would never have ventured to come within decisive range of her four 12–inch guns. To do so would have been to subject themselves to very serious damage without any prospect of success. The old battleship, with her heavy armour and artillery, was in fact a citadel around which all our cruisers in those waters could find absolute security. It was for this reason that the Admiralty had telegraphed on 14th September: ‘Keep at least Canopus and one County class with your flagship’; and again, on the 5th October: ‘Canopus should accompany Glasgow, Monmouth and Otranto.’ It was for this reason that I was glad to read Admiral Cradock’s telegram: ‘Have ordered Canopus to Falkland Islands, where I intend to concentrate and avoid division of forces,’ on which I minuted: ‘In these circumstances it would be best for the British ships to keep within supporting distance of one another, whether in the Straits or near the Falklands’; and it was for this same reason that the Admiralty telegraphed on the 14th October: ‘Concur in your concentration of Good Hope, Canopus, Monmouth, Glasgow, Otranto for combined operation....’
It was quite true that the speed of the Canopus was in fact only fifteen and a half knots, and that as long as our cruisers had to take her about with them they could not hope to catch the Germans. All the Canopus could do was to prevent the Germans catching and killing them. But that would not be the end of the story; it would only be its beginning. When the Germans reached the South American coast after their long voyage across the Pacific, they would have to coal and take in supplies: they were bound to try to find some place where colliers could meet them, and where they could refit and revictual. The moment they were located, either by one of our light cruisers or reported from the shore, the uncertainty of their whereabouts was at an end. We could instantly concentrate upon them from many quarters. The Japanese battleship Hizen and cruiser Idzumo, with the British light cruiser Newcastle, were moving southward across the Northern Pacific towards the coast of South America—a force also not capable of catching the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau, but too strong to be attacked by them. On the East Coast of South America was Rear-Admiral Stoddart’s squadron with the powerful modern armoured cruiser Defence, with two more County class cruisers, Carnarvon (7·5–inch guns) and Cornwall, the light cruiser Bristol, and the armed merchant cruisers Macedonia and Orama. All these ships could be moved by a single order into a common concentration against the German squadron the moment we knew where they were; and meanwhile, so long as he kept within supporting distance of the Canopus, Admiral Cradock could have cruised safely up the Chilean coast, keeping the Germans on the move and always falling back on his battleship if they attempted to attack him. The Good Hope and Monmouth steaming together were scarcely inferior in designed speed to the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau, and these last had been long at sea. Admiral Cradock could, therefore, have kept on observing the Germans, disturbing them, provoking them and drawing them on to the Canopus. Moreover, in the Glasgow he had a light cruiser which was much superior in speed to the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau, and superior both in strength and speed to any one of the German light cruisers concerned.
I cannot therefore accept for the Admiralty any share in the responsibility for what followed. The first rule of war is to concentrate superior strength for decisive action and to avoid division of forces or engaging in detail. The Admiral showed by his telegrams that he clearly appreciated this. The Admiralty orders explicitly approved his assertion of these elementary principles. We were not, therefore, anxious about the safety of Admiral Cradock’s squadron. A more important and critical situation would arise, if in cruising up the West Coast of South America with his concentrated force Admiral Cradock missed the Germans altogether, and if they passed to the southward of him through the Straits of Magellan or round the Horn, refuelling there in some secret bay, and so came on to the great trade route from Rio. Here they would find Admiral Stoddart, whose squadron when concentrated, though somewhat faster and stronger than the Germans, had not much to spare in either respect. It was for this reason that I had deprecated in my minute of the 12th October Admiral Cradock’s movement up the West Coast and would have been glad to see him remaining near the Straits of Magellan, where he could either bar the path of the Scharnhorst and the Gneisenau, or manœuvre to join forces with Admiral Stoddart. However, I rested content with the decisions conveyed in the Admiralty telegram of the 14th October, and awaited events.
Suddenly, on the 27th October, there arrived a telegram from Admiral Cradock which threw me into perplexity:—