disadvantage in mind Admiral Ludwig von Henk, one of the developers of the new German Navy, in 1882 wrote a pamphlet entitled Heligoland’s Strategic Significance to Germany , in which he argued that it was vital for Germany to acquire the island.
Rather surprisingly, even senior German naval officers were so awed by the power Britain could presumably wield via Heligoland that they overlooked the likelihood of the island being implicated in regional wars even when Britain remained neutral. This was brought home to Governor Ernest Maxse on 9 May 1864 during the Second Schleswig war when a ferocious sea-battle occurred between Austro-Prussian and Danish warships just off the coast of Sandy Island. Earlier that week the British government had hosted a reconciliation conference in London, at which the combatant nations had agreed to a limited armistice. So there was consternation in the Colonial Office at 2 o’clock that afternoon when a telegram suddenly arrived, via a newly installed North Sea telegraph cable, direct from Maxse. Excitedly he reported: ‘The Danes have won the action. One Austrian frigate is in flames, and she, together with the other Austrian frigate, and gunboats, is making for Heligoland. They are almost in English waters.’ Soon the battered vessels were lying at anchor in the roadstead just off the island. Momentarily there must have been some alarm that the fight might continue within the British jurisdiction, or even that the Danes might take advantage of the confusion to recapture Heligoland. But eventually the bedraggled Danish fleet sailed off, perhaps deterred by the sight of the frigate HMS Aurora , pugnaciously riding at anchor as guardship just south of the island with all her guns run out and ready for action.
Mischievously trying to provoke a conflict with Britain, soon afterwards German nationalists wrote reports in continental newspapers falsely claiming that this British warship had manoeuvred to deceive and impede the Austrian squadron. Then, in the 1870 Franco-Prussian war, in which Britain was also neutral, Heligoland’s non-involvement was again compromised. Unsuccessful though the French were on the battlefields, they had a substantial navy and put it to practical use blockading Germany’s navigable estuaries in the Bight. Not since the ‘continental system’ of the Napoleonic wars had there been so many ships anchored in the Heligoland roadstead. The opportunistic islanders sought every chance to sell provisions to the crews of the French blockading vessels. These breaches of neutrality became so blatant that in 1871 the German Ambassador in London demanded an enquiry into reports that the Heligolanders had been supplying coal to the French warships. Governor Maxse had previously turned a blind eye to the islanders’ activities, and the island’s parliament was furious when Whitehall ordered him to put a stop to such violations of British neutrality. Even so, just as he had done in 1864, Maxse used the island as an ideal observation post to keep London informed by telegraph of the locations and movements of the rival warships.
Despite unnervingly close encounters in those two wars, Britain still failed to fortify the island. As long ago as April 1860 official meanness frustrated Governor Pattinson’s initiative to muster a local voluntary militia. He successfully raised a corps of twenty-five recruits but by January 1861 the scheme had collapsed because, despite numerous written pleas from Pattinson, the Colonial Office refused to pay for the much-needed ammunition to be sent from the Army depot at Purfleet. In October 1871 – according to the German newspaper Kreuz Zeitung – a battery of 12-pounder Armstrong guns was sent to the island from England, but they were only to be used for firing fog signals and salutes, and were not perceived as having any defensive function. There were anxieties that the accompanying stocks of gunpowder would run out anyway, Britain being too
Rather surprisingly, even senior German naval officers were so awed by the power Britain could presumably wield via Heligoland that they overlooked the likelihood of the island being implicated in regional wars even when Britain remained neutral. This was brought home to Governor Ernest Maxse on 9 May 1864 during the Second Schleswig war when a ferocious sea-battle occurred between Austro-Prussian and Danish warships just off the coast of Sandy Island. Earlier that week the British government had hosted a reconciliation conference in London, at which the combatant nations had agreed to a limited armistice. So there was consternation in the Colonial Office at 2 o’clock that afternoon when a telegram suddenly arrived, via a newly installed North Sea telegraph cable, direct from Maxse. Excitedly he reported: ‘The Danes have won the action. One Austrian frigate is in flames, and she, together with the other Austrian frigate, and gunboats, is making for Heligoland. They are almost in English waters.’ Soon the battered vessels were lying at anchor in the roadstead just off the island. Momentarily there must have been some alarm that the fight might continue within the British jurisdiction, or even that the Danes might take advantage of the confusion to recapture Heligoland. But eventually the bedraggled Danish fleet sailed off, perhaps deterred by the sight of the frigate HMS Aurora , pugnaciously riding at anchor as guardship just south of the island with all her guns run out and ready for action.
Mischievously trying to provoke a conflict with Britain, soon afterwards German nationalists wrote reports in continental newspapers falsely claiming that this British warship had manoeuvred to deceive and impede the Austrian squadron. Then, in the 1870 Franco-Prussian war, in which Britain was also neutral, Heligoland’s non-involvement was again compromised. Unsuccessful though the French were on the battlefields, they had a substantial navy and put it to practical use blockading Germany’s navigable estuaries in the Bight. Not since the ‘continental system’ of the Napoleonic wars had there been so many ships anchored in the Heligoland roadstead. The opportunistic islanders sought every chance to sell provisions to the crews of the French blockading vessels. These breaches of neutrality became so blatant that in 1871 the German Ambassador in London demanded an enquiry into reports that the Heligolanders had been supplying coal to the French warships. Governor Maxse had previously turned a blind eye to the islanders’ activities, and the island’s parliament was furious when Whitehall ordered him to put a stop to such violations of British neutrality. Even so, just as he had done in 1864, Maxse used the island as an ideal observation post to keep London informed by telegraph of the locations and movements of the rival warships.
Despite unnervingly close encounters in those two wars, Britain still failed to fortify the island. As long ago as April 1860 official meanness frustrated Governor Pattinson’s initiative to muster a local voluntary militia. He successfully raised a corps of twenty-five recruits but by January 1861 the scheme had collapsed because, despite numerous written pleas from Pattinson, the Colonial Office refused to pay for the much-needed ammunition to be sent from the Army depot at Purfleet. In October 1871 – according to the German newspaper Kreuz Zeitung – a battery of 12-pounder Armstrong guns was sent to the island from England, but they were only to be used for firing fog signals and salutes, and were not perceived as having any defensive function. There were anxieties that the accompanying stocks of gunpowder would run out anyway, Britain being too
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