A Kinsale Connection with the Battle of Coronel.
By Padraig Walsh
On the 1st November – All Saints Day – 1914 a naval battle off the coast of Chile, known as the battle of Coronel resulted in the destruction of a Royal Navy squadron. The British had suffered its first naval defeat for over a century with the loss of two armoured cruisers, and nearly 1600 lives. One of those who perished that night was Kinsale man Daniel Walsh.
Daniel Walsh was born on 10th December 1877 in Butchers Row, Kinsale. He was the third child in a family of seven born to Edward and Ellen Walsh. Edward worked as a stonemason journeyman. Why Daniel did not follow tradition and join his father in the trade of stonemason, as his elder brother Jim did is not known. Watching the ships coming and going in this busy seaport may have given Daniel a romantic notion of an adventurous life on the high seas. Perhaps he watched his father struggle to grind out a living as a stonemason and decided to escape such a life. In any event he made his way to Devonport in the southwest of England when he was sixteen years of age and enlisted in the Royal Navy. He signed a contract to serve for 12 years from the date of his eighteenth birthday. However, he still wanted to support his family in Kinsale and so authorised the Navy to allot part of his small monthly pay to his mother back home. Hence when other income was often doubtful Ellen could at least be certain of six shillings each month.
Daniel’s Naval apprenticeship began on the HMS Impregnable in April 1894. She was the largest training ship for boys and was moored on the broad estuary of the river Tamar in Devonport. Impregnable was an old three-decker wooden ship that was out of date as soon as she was built in 1860 and so was used only for training purposes. Daniel was enrolled as Boy 2nd class and his initial training began. Each day he attended classes in seamanship from knotting and splicing of ropes to learning the points of the compass, Morse code and semaphore, how to steer by compass and wind, how to swim, pull an oar and handle a gun. It was a hard life for a young boy far from home and with strict Navy discipline any romantic ideas about life at sea soon disappeared. In August 1895 having passed the necessary tests Daniel was considered Boy 1st class and ready for his first posting to the HMS Colossus which was carrying out coastguard duties.
At this time his father Edward was forced to leave Kinsale and travel to Pontypridd in Wales in search of work. It was from there he wrote to Daniel on HMS Colossus in November 1895. In the letter he wrote that he hoped Daniel liked his new ship and to take care of himself and he would do fine, he also enclosed a small amount of money. This was the last contact he had with his father as soon after he fell ill and died.
Edward had complained of stomach pain in letters home to his wife. He attended a doctor and was given medicine but the pain persisted and some days he was unable to work. He thought about returning home but felt it was better to have some work in Pontypridd than to have none at all in Kinsale. But his condition deteriorated rapidly and he was confined to bed. He was now too weak to return home. He died in January 1896 and was buried in a nearby cemetery.
When Daniel reached 18yrs he was promoted to Ordinary seaman. His naval record describes him standing five foot nine inches in height with blue eyes, black hair, and a fresh complexion. His character was rated throughout as being very good.
He continued to progress through the ranks and in 1904 was promoted to Petty Officer while appointed to HMS Implacable.
In 1906 he was assigned to HMS Emerald which was a harbour training ship stationed in Queenstown, Cork. He remained there until the summer of 1908. It was at this time that he met Norah Quirke, a daughter of Coastguard Dan Quirke. She was working as a housekeeper in Clontead and the couple married in Belgooly in February 1908. His older brother Jim acted as witness at the ceremony. Jim may have had certain reservations about doing so as he was deeply involved in the nationalist movement and Gaelic revival. Having been in jail for promoting the Irish language it was no surprise therefore when he signed the register in Irish, Seamus Breathnach.
Daniel and Norah lived in Friars Street when their first daughter, Eileen was born in January 1909. Later they moved to Cork Street when a second daughter Johanna was born in 1911. Following his marriage Daniel went on to serve in HMS Hood, HMS Donegal and HMS Devonshire until July 1914 with dark clouds of war in the sky he was posted to HMS Monmouth.
HMS Monmouth
The Monmouth was an armoured cruiser built in 1901, badly designed and under armed for a ship its size, with some of its guns situated so close to the waterline they could only be used in the calmest of weather. She had just returned following years spent in the China Station and needed refitting before it was ready to sail. Eventually under captain Frank Brandt and with an inexperienced crew she steamed out of Plymouth on the 6th August bound for South America and given the task of protecting British shipping in the trade routes. The Monmouth arrived at Pernambuco in Brazil amid reports there of two marauding German cruisers, the Dresden and Karlhusk, and began a tour of duty with HMS Glasgow. The Glasgow was a modern, light, armed cruiser with a regular crew.
Realising that these German cruisers were a serious threat to shipping and just the Monmouth and Glasgow protecting such a vast area, Rear Admiral Craddock was ordered to take command of operations. Cradock’s flagship was the HMS Good Hope, an armoured cruiser completed in 1902 and while her armoury included two large guns, she was considered obsolete. She was commissioned with 90% Reservists who were not given the opportunity to train in their duties in action. An armed liner named Otranto joined the three cruisers and together they formed an ad-hoc squadron.
Cradock was described as a skilled seaman and a likeable leader with a strong affection for the spirit and tradition of the Navy. In the following weeks the squadron travelled thousands of miles along the East coast of South America and searched in the many uninhabited islands, out-of-the-way bays, and inlets for an elusive enemy.
In early September Cradock was warned that a German squadron under Vice Admiral Maximilian Graf von Spee was crossing the Pacific and might arrive in South American waters. Von Spee commanded one of the elite gunnery squadrons of the German navy and was based in a port north of Shanghai. On the outbreak of the war however he prudently disappeared into the Pacific. With modern powerful ships under his command, he was a dangerous adversary.
Cradock knowing his squadron was very weak requested reinforcements if he was expected to meet this threat. He was promised HMS Defence and the battleship HMS Canopus.
In early October the British squadron arrived at the Falkland Islands and made it their base. A chance meeting of a Pacific trading ship gave them information that the Dresden was using Orange Bay, a small harbour lying amidst the snow and glaciers of Hoste Island. Leaving their base in the Falkland Islands the squadron rounded Cape Horn in atrocious weather conditions. An officer of the Glasgow wrote ‘it blew, snowed, hailed and sleeted as hard as it was possible to do, the Monmouth was rolling thirty-five degrees at times and was practically a submarine. We finally got past caring what might happen – what with the weather, strain and extreme cold.’ Despite Cradock’s best efforts the Dresden had escaped into the Pacific.
Having been promised reinforcements, by the end of October only HMS Canopus arrived at the Falklands. On its arrival this old battleship needed engine repairs. Cradock with instructions to attack German trade along the Chilean coast was unwilling to wait and so he gave orders for the Canopus to follow on when the work was finished. With no further information on the whereabouts of von Spee, Craddock brought his squadron up the coast of Chile on the 29th October and that afternoon sent the Glasgow on ahead into the port of Coronel to send and receive signals. While there the Glasgow identified a wireless message coming from a German cruiser called the Leipzig. Receiving this important news, the first definite information that a German cruiser was in the area, Craddock ordered the captain of the Glasgow to speed up his visit in Coronel and rejoin the squadron. Early the following day, November 1st, believing that there was only a single German warship in the vicinity he ordered a line of search with his ships fifteen miles apart. The wind increased as the day wore on when late in the afternoon they spotted the Leipzig. But she was not alone that day off Coronel: von Spee was there with his whole force two armed cruisers and two light cruisers with a third, the Nurnberg approaching from the north. When Cradock realised that he was facing a much stronger force he still had the opportunity of turning back towards the Canopus but instead he ordered a line of attack.
In the hour before sunset the two squadrons gradually closed the range. The evening was stormy and the ships were rolling heavily, seas breaking over the bows. The sun was going down in a red glow and the light was in favour of the British as the sun would be in the eyes of the German gunners. However the more powerful German ships were able to stay out of range until the sun was just below the horizon and reverse the visibility advantage. So with the British squadron silhouetted against the horizon and the Germans in the gathering gloom von Spee opened fire.
As the Otranto could not play any part in the battle she at once moved off to the open sea. The battle lasted for about an hour but within ten minutes the outcome was not in doubt. The Germans were able to fire while still out of range of the smaller British guns. Within minutes Good Hope and Monmouth were being hit with accurate and deadly fire. The Monmouth’s return fire was at first very rapid but largely wasted as it was beyond the range of her six inch guns, some of which could not be used because of the rough sea. Both ships were hit repeatedly and took heavy damage.
An officer on board the Glasgow recorded that a continuous sheet of flame appeared along the side of Good Hope and Monmouth on which the heavy sea seemed to have no effect. Both ships however continued to fight some guns and were rewarded with a few hits. The smoke from their funnels reddened by the dull glare of fires below. It was now quiet dark and Good Hope and Monmouth were obviously in distress. Monmouth veered off to starboard burning furiously and heeling slightly. A terrible explosion on board Good Hope sent a gust of flames 200 feet into the air after which she could not have survived for much longer.
The Glasgow up to now had led a charmed existence, however she did sustain some minor damage and seeing that the Monmouth and Good Hope were beyond help, fled to avoid certain destruction and also warn the Canopus to turn back.
The final salvos that sealed Monmouth’s fate came from a ship that had taken no previous part in the action. The Nurnberg had been returning from Valparaiso and was some thirty miles to the north when the firing began and just happened to discover the damaged ship in its attempt to flee. Nurnberg with a searchlight on the Monmouth opened fire at close range. The Glasgow watching from a distance counted up to seventy-five flashes from Nurnberg’s guns. The stricken ship heeled over further and slowly capsized. No attempt was made to rescue any survivors.
When news of the defeat reached the Admiralty in London a huge naval force was promptly dispatched to destroy von Spee’s force: which it subsequently did, on December 8th in the Battle of the Falkland Islands. Only the Dresden escaped and roamed at large for another three months before its captain surrendered and after evacuating the crew scuttled his ship.
Cradock was later blamed for the disaster because he didn’t wait for the Canopus before moving up the coast, but his instructions were never clear. Undoubtedly the Admiralty made a serious error of judgment about von Spee’s location in September and didn’t send Cradock the ships he needed. 
Von Spee’s squadron photographed leaving Valparaiso two days after their victory in the Battle of Coronel.
Whereas the newspapers reported the events off Coronel within days of the battle, it was another two months before Norah Walsh was officially notified by telegram of Daniel’s death.
Daniel’s name can be found on the Royal Navy War Memorial in Plymouth.
Main Sources
Royal Navy Service Records.
How Blue-Jackets are Trained. Windsor Magazine 1896.
Coronel and the Falklands. Geoffrey Bennett.
Great Sea Battles. Oliver Warner.
Naval Warfare. Edited by Richard Humble
The Naval Review. The Naval Society, February 1915.