“There was nothing much in the first part,” went on the Maker. “Any of us could have done it. His pursuit of the German battle cruisers up to their junction with the High Seas Fleet was a reconnaissance in force, which he was able to carry through without undue risk, because he had behind him the Fifth Battle Squadron. His change of course then through sixteen points was the only possible manœuvre in order to bring his fleet back towards Jellicoe and to lead the Germans into the trap prepared for them. So far Beatty had done nothing to distinguish him from any competent fleet leader. Where he showed greatness was in not diverging by a hair’s breadth from his plans after the loss of the _Indefatigable_ and the _Queen Mary_. Mind you, these losses were wholly unexpected, and staggering in their suddenness. He had lost these fine ships while fighting battle cruisers fewer in numbers and less powerful in guns than his own squadrons. A weaker man might have been shaken in nerve and lost confidence in himself and his ships. But Beatty did not hesitate. Although he was reduced in strength from six battle cruisers to four only he dashed away to head off the Germans as serenely as if he had suffered no losses at all. And his splendid dash had nothing in it of recklessness. All the while he was heading off the Germans he was manœuvring to give himself the advantage of light and to avoid the dropping shots which had killed his lost cruisers. All the while he kept between the Germans and Jellicoe and within touch of his supporting squadron of four Queen Elizabeths. Had he lost more ships he could at any moment have broken off the action and, sheltered by the massive Fifth B.S., have saved what remained. As a mixture of dash and caution I regard his envelopment of the German line, after losing the _Queen Mary_ and _Indefatigable_, as a superb exhibition of sound battle tactics and of sublime confidence in himself and his men. But I wish that he would not wear his cap on one side or talk so much. He has modified both these ill-practices since he became Commander-in-Chief. That is one comfort.” “Nelson was a poseur,” said I, “and as theatrical as an elderly and ugly prima donna. He posed to the gallery in every action, and died, as it were, to the accompaniment of slow music. It was an amiable weakness.” “Jellicoe doesn’t pose,” growled the Maker. “Jellicoe hates advertisement,” I observed. “Whenever he used to talk to the gangs of newspaper men who infested the Grand Fleet, he always implored them to spare his own shrinking personality. It is a matter of temperament. Jellicoe is a genuinely modest man; Beatty is a vain one. They form a most interesting contrast. Life would be duller without such contrasts. One could give a score of examples from military and naval history of high merit allied both to modesty and vanity.”