About 4.20 the _Cornwall_ was able to open fire, and the _Glasgow_ joined her, so that both ships might concentrate upon the same side of the _Leipzig_. Just as Admiral Sturdee in his fight with the _Scharnhorst_ and the _Gneisenau_ could not afford to run risks of damage far from a repairing base, so the _Glasgow_ and the _Cornwall_ with several hours of daylight before them were not justified in allowing impatience to hazard the safety of the ships. They had to regard the possible use of torpedoes and to look out for dropped mines. Neither torpedoes nor mines were, in fact, used by the Germans, though at one time in the course of the action drums, mistaken for mines, were seen in the water and carefully avoided. They were cases in which cartridges were brought from the magazines, and which were thrown overboard after being emptied. As the afternoon drew on the weather turned rather misty, and the attacking ships were obliged to close in a little and hurry up the business. This was at half-past five. From the first the _Leipzig_ never had a chance. She was out-steamed and utterly out-gunned. Her opponents had between them four times her broadside weight of metal, and the _Cornwall_ was an armoured ship. She never had a chance, yet she went on, fired some 1,500 rounds—all that remained in her magazines after Coronel—and did not finally cease firing until after seven o’clock. For more than four hours her company had looked certain death in the face yet gallantly stood to their work. From first to last von Spee’s concentrated squadron played the naval game according to the immemorial rules, and died like gentlemen. Peace be to their ashes. In success and in failure they were the most gallant and honourable of foes. At seven o’clock the _Leipzig_ was smashed to pieces, she was blazing from stem to stern, she was doomed, yet gave no sign of surrender.