CHAPTER XXI.
A NAVAL FIGHT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES
The great naval force of the Tsar, with which we were now face to face," continued Lieutenant Ingleton in his narrative, "consisted of the new battleship Petropavlovsk of 10,960 tons, with a speed of 17 knots; the great turret-ship Dvenadsat Apostoloff of 8076 tons; the two new barbette-ships Kama and Vologda of the Cizoi Veliky type; the Tchesmé of 10,181 tons, the Gheorghy Pobyednosets of 10,280 tons, and the powerful Tria Sviatitelia of 12,480 tons; the two enormous new cruisers Tiumen and Minsk, both of 17,000 tons, and running at 20 knots; the Vladimir Monomach of 5754 tons; the armoured gunboat Otvazny, and the new rams Admiral Seniavine and Admiral Uschakoff, with thirty torpedo boats, including the Kodor, Reni, Anakria, and Adler, the latter being able to run at 27·4 knots.
"Against such a gigantic force as this our small force of vessels and torpedo boats presented but a sorry appearance. Nevertheless we had fired the first shot, and were now determined to die rather than haul down our colours. As our guns thundered, those of the Jupiter, Repulse, Sans Pareil, Undaunted, Orlando, Diana, Scout, and Gannet joined in noisy chorus. The 12-inch guns in the turrets of the Petropavlovsk and the four big guns in the barbettes of the Tria Sviatitelia crashed out together, and almost immediately afterwards we found ourselves being swept from stem to stern by the enemy's shells. The Russian battleships were all well armoured, and had a much heavier shell fire than the vessels of either France or Britain. We were both in columns of divisions in line ahead, but from the first moment of the engagement our position was critical.
"A terrific and deadly storm burst upon us from the enemy's tops, while his heavy guns kept up an incessant thunder. With such an enormous force against us, it was apparent to every man on board that disaster was imminent. It had, alas! never been graven sufficiently deep upon the public mind how absurdly weak we were in the Mediterranean. Here, as in all other squadrons, every grade of officer from commander downwards was deficient in numbers, and the ships in commission had for years been so much below their complement that the work had only been carried on with great difficulty. Other ships at home had been obliged to wait until a sufficient number of merchant seamen and half-trained engine-room staff could be scraped together to provide the semblance of a crew. In fact, successive British Governments of both parties had subordinated national necessities to a desire to evade a material increase in taxation, and now at last our Mediterranean Squadron were compelled to face the inevitable.
"The insidious cunning and patient methods to which the Russians resort in order to attain their aims and break their boundaries had once more been illustrated. They had, by dint of extraordinary chicanery, secured absolute possession of the small Turkish peninsula known as Mount Athos. Situated near the entrance of the Gulf of Salonica, it was a paramount strategical position, and its possessor was now enabled to keep watch upon Macedonia, and in the meantime be very near the Dardanelles, and also Asia Minor. The possession was accomplished in a curiously secret manner, showing to what extent Russian foresight and artifice is carried. For years past the Société Slav de Bienfaisance had been sending, through a bank in Salonica, large sums of money to further the aim. To the casual observer there was nothing extraordinary about this, for the Russians had established on the lofty heights several monasteries, converting the place into a clerical settlement. This fact was pointed out by the Pall Mall Gazette as far back as 1893, but the British public at that time failed to detect any Russian intrigue.
"Gradually, however, Muscovite roubles purchased the surrounding property, and Greek convents were reduced to poverty while Russian institutions flourished and increased. But, strangely enough, the inmates of these monasteries were suddenly discovered to be mock clerics, and then it was disclosed that under the cover of monastic garments and robes were to be found the Tsar's soldiers, performing a three years' special and specific military service!
"Yet, owing to the Sultan's weakness, to the almighty backsheesh, and to the shortsightedness of Turkish statesmen, the Russians were not dislodged, but the position was actually ceded to them, with the result that they had now firmly established themselves where they were enabled to counteract British action and influence. A naval station had been established for their Mediterranean Squadron at Poros, off the eastern coast of the Peloponnesus, some fifteen miles due south of the island of Ægina. Here there were three miles of deep water safe from sea attack, with an arsenal and dockyard, on the very weakest point along the line of our highway between England and India! Such was the manner in which our power in the Mediterranean had been undermined!
"There was, however, no time for reflection amid the deafening roar. This Black Sea Fleet that had burst its bonds and passed through the Dardanelles intended to sweep us from the sea. Yet, notwithstanding the terrible fire pouring upon us from these great and powerful ships, each fully equipped with the latest and most improved arms, fully manned by well-trained men, and fresh for the fray, we held our quarters, determined to show the forces of the Tsar defiance. Even though every man of us might be sent to an untimely grave, the Russian flag should never surmount the White Ensign of Britain. We were determined, so we set our teeth, and showed a firm and vigorous front to the foe.
"Our two 22-tonners rendered admirable service, and the cannonade kept up from our 3 and 6-pounder quick-firing guns was playing havoc with the Russian belted cruiser Vladimir Monomach lying on our port quarter. The vessel was slightly larger than ourselves, carrying much heavier armaments, including four 13-ton guns, and twelve 4-tonners. She was indeed a very formidable opponent, nevertheless we did our best, and, blazing away at close quarters, soon succeeded in silencing the starboard 13-tonner nearest us.
"Just at this moment I found we were being attacked on the port bow by the enormous new turret-ship Petropavlovsk and the Dvenadsat Apostoloff. Two of the heavy 12-inch guns of the former thundered almost simultaneously, and both shells striking us almost amidships, caused us such a shock that for a second I stood breathless.
"In a few moments, however, it was reported that our 'vitals' had fortunately escaped, and we continued firing as if no catastrophe had occurred. As a matter of fact, the damage caused by those two shells was appalling.
"The Jupiter, steaming about two miles away on our starboard quarter, was apparently holding her own against the barbette-ships Tchesmé and Gheorghy Pobyednosets, the cruiser Tiumen, one of the largest in the world, and the new ram Admiral Seniavine. The four attacking vessels, as seen through the dense smoke, were pouring into the British ship a deadly fire; yet, judging from the fallen tops and disabled engines of the Gheorghy Pobyednosets and the wrecked superstructure of the Tchesmé, the Jupiter's heavy armaments were executing good work, notwithstanding the strength of the Tchesmé's six 50-ton guns, admirably arranged in pairs in the centre of the vessel.
"The Diana and Sans Pareil, lying near to one another, were desperately resisting the vigorous attack made by the Admiral Uschakoff, Minsk, Otvazny, Kama, and Vologda; and here again, amid smoke and flying débris, I could distinguish that the 67-tonners of the Repulse, in co-operation with the lighter weapons of the Undaunted, were giving the enemy a taste of what British courage could accomplish.
"The sea around us simply swarmed with Russian torpedo boats, and it required all our vigilance to evade their continued attacks. Before an hour had passed we had succeeded in sinking two by shots from our 6-inch guns, and several more were sent to the bottom by well-aimed projectiles from the Dido and Jupiter.
"As for ourselves, projectiles were sweeping across our deck like hail, and under the incessant and fearful fire we were suffering frightfully. Over sixty of our men and a sub-lieutenant had been killed, while forty-nine were severely wounded. Once I had occasion to go below, and between decks the sight that met my gaze was awful.
"Around two of the quick-firing guns on our port quarter lay the guns' crews, mutilated by shells from the Vladimir Monomach. They had been killed almost instantly while standing bravely at their posts. The scene was appalling. The mangled masses of humanity amid which the surgeons were at work were awful to look upon, and I rushed up again with the terrible scene photographed indelibly upon my memory.
"Meanwhile the ship was in the greatest peril. The continual bursting of shells upon her shook and shattered her, and she trembled violently as, time after time, her own guns uttered their thundering reply to her enemies. Heeling now this way, now that, as the helm was put hard over to avoid a blow, the situation on board was intensely exciting.
"Those were terrible moments. The captain suddenly noticed the movements of the Vladimir Monomach, and divined her intentions. She had ceased firing, and by a neatly executed manœuvre was preparing to ram us. In a moment our helm was put over again, and the Edgar answered to it immediately.
"'Ready bow tube!' I heard the captain shout hoarsely. He waited a few moments, allowing the Russian ironclad to partially perform her evolution, then just as she came almost into collision with us he shrieked 'Fire bow tube!' at the same time bringing us over further to port.
"The seconds seemed hours. Suddenly there was a loud explosion, a great column of water rose under the Russian's bow, and we knew the torpedo had struck. At that moment, too, even while the water was still in the air, one of our torpedo boats which had crept up under the Vladimir Monomach's stern sent another torpedo at her, which also hit its mark and ripped her up. Turning our guns upon the armoured cruiser, we poured volley after volley into her, but she did not reply, for her men were panic-stricken, and she was sinking fast.
"The Petropavlovsk, leaving us, endeavoured to rescue her crew, but ere a dozen men were saved, she settled down bow foremost, and disappeared into the deep, carrying down with her nearly five hundred officers and men.
"The Dvenadsat Apostoloff kept up her fire upon us, and a few moments later I witnessed another disaster, for a shot from one of her bow guns struck the torpedo boat that had just assisted us, and sank it. A few minutes later a loud explosion in the direction of the Sans Pareil attracted my attention, and, turning, I saw amid the smoke-clouds débris precipitated high into the air. A shot from one of her 111-ton guns had penetrated to the magazine of the Admiral Seniavine, which had exploded, causing a frightful disaster on board that vessel, and just at the same moment a cheer from the crew of one of our 6-inch guns prompted me to look for the cause, which I found in the fact that they had shot the Russian colours completely away from the Dvenadsat Apostoloff.
"Again another frightful explosion sounded loud above the incessant din, and to my satisfaction I saw a great column of water rise around the Admiral Uschakoff, which, fighting at close quarters with the Dido, had apparently been torpedoed. Not satisfied with this, the captain of the Dido, keeping his machine guns going, turned his vessel and discharged a second Whitehead, which also struck with such terrible effect that the Russian ship began at once to sink, and in a few minutes the blue waves closed for ever over her tops, ere a score or so out of her crew of 300 could be rescued.
"It was nearly three bells, and the sun was setting. A galling fire from the machine guns in the foretop of the Dvenadsat Apostoloff suddenly swept our deck, killing a dozen poor fellows who were at work clearing away some débris, and at the same moment a shot from one of her 52-ton guns crashed into our port quarter, and must have caused terrible havoc among the guns' crews. A moment later we were dismayed by the report that our steering-gear had been broken. For a few seconds we were helplessly swinging round under the awful fire which was now pouring from the great guns of the Russian ironclad, and our captain was making strenuous efforts to recover control of the ship, when I saw the torpedo boat Anakria shoot suddenly across our bows, then quickly slacken as she got to starboard of us.
"A second later I realised her intention, and shouted frantically. A line of bubbles had appeared on the surface advancing swiftly towards us. She had ejected a torpedo straight at us, and I stood petrified, not daring to breathe.
"A moment later there came a terrific explosion right underneath us, followed by a harsh tearing sound as iron plates were torn asunder like tinfoil, and the ship's side was ripped completely up. The Edgar heaved high and plunged heavily, a great column of water rose high above her masts, and the air seemed filled with flying fragments of iron and wood. The vessel rocked and swayed so that we could not keep our feet, and then gradually heeling over, causing her guns to shift, she went down before a soul on board could launch a boat.
"At the moment of the explosion I felt a sharp twinge in the back, and found that I had been struck by a flying splinter of steel. The strain of those hours had been terrible, and of the events that followed I can only recollect two things. I remember finding myself struggling alone in the water with a shower of bullets from the Dvenadsat Apostoloff's tops sending up little splashes about me. Then I felt my strength failing, my limbs seemed paralysed, and I could no longer strike out to save myself. Abandoning all hope, I was sinking, when suddenly a rope was flung to me. I remember how frantically I clutched it, and that a few moments later I was hauled aboard a torpedo boat; but for days afterwards I lay hovering 'twixt life and death, oblivious to all. I was one of the thirteen only who were saved out of a crew of 327 brave officers and men."
Such a ghastly disaster could only produce profound dismay among those who manned the remaining British vessels. Straining every nerve to uphold the honour of Britain, the guns' crews of the Jupiter, Sans Pareil, Repulse, and Undaunted, with smoke-begrimed hands and faces, worked on with that indomitable energy begotten of despair. Regardless of the awful rain of shot and shell, they reloaded and fired with calm, dogged self-possession, the officers on all four vessels inspiring their men by various deeds of valour, and preserving such discipline under fire as none but British sailors could. The British naval officer is full of undaunted defiance and contempt for his foes; but, above all, he is a strict disciplinarian, and to this our country in a great measure owes the supremacy our Navy has hitherto enjoyed upon the seas. During the fight the vessels had been moving in a north-easterly direction, and although the Russians were unaware of the fact, Her Majesty's ships had therefore continued in their course. Hence, just as a cool breeze sprang up at sundown, soon after the Edgar had sunk, a line of low dark cliffs was sighted ahead.
The officers of the Diana, watching anxiously through their glasses, distinguished the distant crest of Mount Genargentu gradually appearing against the clear evening sky, and then they knew that they were off Sardinia, outside the Gulf of Oristano.
Altering their course, they headed due north, still keeping up a running fire, but the Russians prevented them making headway.
All our vessels were suffering frightfully, when there was a sudden explosion, and, to the Englishmen's dismay, it was seen that a torpedo had struck the Undaunted nearly amidships. Still the doomed vessel managed to evade a second attack, and by a desperate manœuvre the captain succeeded in turning and heading for land.
The remaining ships, in their terribly crippled condition, would, the Russians anticipated, soon fall an easy prey. Nevertheless, with their crews decimated, their guns disabled, and their machinery damaged, the British vessels still continued firing, the men resolved to go down at their quarters. They knew that escape was hopeless, and every moment they saw their comrades being swept away by the great exploding projectiles of the Tsar's heavy guns. But they were not dismayed. To do their utmost for the defence of Britain, to keep afloat as long as possible, and to die like Britons with faces towards the foe, was their duty. Pale and desperate, they were fighting for their country and their Queen, knowing that only a grave in the deep and the honour of those at home would be the reward of their bravery – that at any moment they might be launched into the unknown.
Suddenly there was a loud shouting on board the Jupiter, and signals were, a moment later, run up to her half-wrecked top. The captain of the Dido, noticing this, looked to ascertain the cause, and saw away on the horizon to the north, whence the dark night clouds were rising, a number of strange craft. Snatching up his glass, he directed it on the strangers, and discovered that they were Italian warships, and were exchanging rapid signals with the captain. They were promising assistance!
Cheers rang loudly through the British vessels, when, a few minutes later, the truth became known, and the guns' crews worked with redoubled energy, while the Russians, noticing the approaching ships, were apparently undecided how to act. They were given but little time for reflection, however, for within half an hour the first of the great Italian ironclads, the Lepanto, opened fire upon the Petropavlovsk, and was quickly followed by others, until the action became general all round.
Aid had arrived just in time, and the British vessels, with engines broken, stood away at some distance, leaving matters for the nonce to the powerful Italian Squadron. It was indeed a very formidable one, and its appearance caused the Russian Admiral such misgivings that he gave orders to retreat, a manœuvre attempted unsuccessfully. The Italian Fleet, as it loomed up in the falling gloom, included no fewer than twenty-six warships and forty-three torpedo boats. The vessels consisted of the barbette-ship Lepanto of 15,000 tons; the Sardegna, Sicilia, and Re Umberto of 13,000 tons; the Andrea Doria, Francesca Morosini, and Ruggiero di Lauria of 11,000 tons; the turret-ships Dandolo and Duilio of the same size; the Ammeraglio di St. Bon of 9800 tons; the armoured cruisers Ancona, Castelfidardo, and Maria Pia, and the San Martino, each of about 4500 tons; the gun-vessels Andrea Provana, Cariddi, Castore, Curtatone; the torpedo gunboats Aretusa, Atlante, Euridice, Iride, Montebello, and Monzambano; the despatch vessels Galileo and Vedetta; and the first-class torpedo vessels Aquila, Avvoltoio, Falco, Nibbio, and Sparviero, and thirty-eight others.
With such a force descending upon the Russian ships, which had already been very severely punished by the vigorous fire of the British, there was little wonder that the Tsar's vessels should endeavour to escape. The Italian Fleet had already bombarded and destroyed Ajaccio two days ago, and, steaming south from the Corsican capital, had anchored for twenty-four hours off Cape della Caccia, near Alghero, in the north of Sardinia. Then again taking a southerly course in the expectation of joining hands with the British Mediterranean Squadron, which was on its way from Marseilles to Cagliari, they had fallen in with the three crippled ships.
Without hesitation the powerful Italian ironclads, several of which were among the finest in the world, opened a terrific fire upon the Russian ships, and as darkness fell the sight was one of appalling grandeur. From all sides flame rushed from turrets and barbettes in vivid flashes, while the Maxims in the tops poured out their deadly showers of bullets. The ponderous 105-ton guns of the Andrea Doria, Francesca Morosini, and Ruggiero di Lauria crashed and roared time after time, their great shots causing frightful havoc among the Russian ships, the four 100-tonners of the Lepanto and the 67-tonners of the Re Umberto, Sardegna, and Sicilia simply knocking to pieces the Petropavlovsk. The Russian ships were receiving terrible blows on every hand. With their search-lights beaming forth in all directions, the ships were fighting fiercely, pounding away at each other with deafening din. It was not long, however, before this vigorous attack of the Italians began to tell, for within an hour of the first shot from the Lepanto the fine Russian battleship Gheorghy Pobyednosets and the great new cruiser Minsk of 17,000 tons had been rammed and sunk, the former by the Duilio, and the latter by the Re Umberto, while the Tchesmé and the gunboat Otvazny had been torpedoed, and scarcely a soul saved out of 1500 men who were on board.
Explosions were occurring in quick succession, and red glares flashed momentarily over the sea. Hither and thither as the Italian torpedo boats darted they ejected their missiles, and the rapid and terrible fire from the leviathans of Italy, pouring into every one of the remaining ships of the Tsar, killed hundreds who were striving to defend themselves.
Suddenly the Sicilia, which had been fighting the Russian flagship, the Tria Sviatitelia, at close quarters, and had blown away her conning-tower and greater portion of her superstructure, performed a neat evolution, and crashed her ram right into her opponent's broadside, breaking her almost in half.
A few moments later there was a terrific explosion on board, and then the doomed vessel sank into the dark rolling sea, carrying with her the Russian Admiral and all hands.
Quickly this success was followed by others – the blowing up of the monster new cruiser Tiumen, the sinking of the Adler and four other Russian torpedo boats, occurring in rapid succession. Seeing with what rapidity and irresistible force they were being swept from the sea, the remainder of the Tsar's shattered fleet struck their flags and called for quarter, not, however, before the torpedo boat Kodor had been sunk. The Russians thus captured were the battleships Petropavlovsk of 10,960 tons, the Dvenadsat Apostoloff of 8076 tons, the two new barbette-ships, Kama and Vologda, both of whose engines had broken down, and fifteen torpedo boats.
At dawn most of the latter were manned by Italians, while the captured ships, with the Italian colours flying and bearing evidence of the terrible conflict, were on their way due north to Genoa, accompanied by the battered British vessels.
The strongest division of Russia's Fleet had been totally destroyed, and the Tsar's power in the Mediterranean was broken.