<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></SPAN>CHAPTER III.</h2>
<h3>NEWS OF THE ENEMY.</h3>
<p>Terror and excitement reigned everywhere. The wildest
rumours were hourly afloat. London was a seething
stream of breathless multitudes of every class.</p>
<p>On Monday morning the newspapers throughout the
kingdom had devoted greater part of their space to the
extraordinary intelligence from Norfolk and Suffolk, and
Essex, and other places. Only the slow, old-fashioned
"Globe" remained asleep, or pretended to know nothing
of what was in progress.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>That we were actually invaded was plain, but most of
the newspapers happily preserved a calm, dignified tone,
and made no attempt at sensationalism. The situation
was far too serious.</p>
<p>Like the public, however, the Press had been taken
entirely by surprise. The blow had been so sudden and
so staggering that half the alarming reports were discredited.</p>
<p>In addition to the details of the enemy's operations,
as far as could as yet be ascertained, the "Morning
Post" on Monday contained an account of a mysterious
occurrence at Chatham, which read as follows:</p>
<div class="right">
"<span class="smcap">Chatham</span>, <i>Sept. 1</i> (11.30 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span>).<br/></div>
<p>"An extraordinary accident took place on the Medway
about eight o'clock this evening. The steamer 'Pole
Star,' 1,200 tons register, with a cargo of cement from
Frindsbury, was leaving for Hamburg, and came into
collision with the 'Frauenlob,' of Bremen, a somewhat
larger boat, which was inward bound, in a narrow
part of the channel about half-way between Chatham
and Sheerness. Various accounts of the mishap are
current, but whichever of the vessels was responsible
for the bad steering or neglect of the ordinary rules of
the road, it is certain that the 'Frauenlob' was cut
into by the stem of the 'Pole Star' on her port bow,
and sank almost across the channel. The 'Pole Star'
swung alongside her after the collision, and very soon
afterwards sank in an almost parallel position. Tugs
and steamboats carrying a number of naval officers and
the port authorities are about to proceed to the scene of
the accident, and if, as seems probable, there is no
chance of raising the vessels, steps will be at once taken
to blow them up. In the present state of our foreign
relations such an obstruction directly across the entrance
to one of our principal war-ports is a national
danger, and will not be allowed to remain a moment
longer than can be helped."</p>
<div class="right">
"<i>Sept. 2.</i><br/></div>
<p>"An extraordinary <i>dénouement</i> has followed the collision
in the Medway reported in my telegram of last night,
which renders it impossible to draw any other conclusion
than that the affair is anything but an accident.
Everything now goes to prove that the whole business
was premeditated and was the result of an organised
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</SPAN></span>plot with the object of 'bottling up' the numerous men-of-war
that are now being hurriedly equipped for service
in Chatham Dockyard. In the words of Scripture,
'An enemy hath done this,' and there can be very little
doubt as to the quarter from which the outrage was
engineered. It is nothing less than an outrage to perpetrate
what is in reality an overt act of hostility in a
time of profound peace, however much the political
horizon may be darkened by lowering war-clouds. We
are living under a Government whose leader lost no time
in announcing that no fear of being sneered at as a
'Little Englander' would deter him from seeking peace
and ensuring it by a reduction of our naval and military
armaments, even at that time known to be inadequate
to the demands likely to be made upon them if our
Empire is to be maintained. We trust, however, that
even this parochially-minded statesman will lose no time
in probing the conspiracy to its depths, and in seeking
instant satisfaction from those personages, however
highly placed and powerful, who have committed this
outrage on the laws of civilisation.</p>
<p>"As soon as the news of the collision reached the
dockyard the senior officer at Kethole Reach was ordered
by wire to take steps to prevent any vessel from going
up the river, and he at once despatched several picket-boats
to the entrance to warn in-coming ships of the
blocking of the channel, while a couple of other boats
were sent up to within a short distance of the obstruction
to make assurance doubly sure. The harbour signals
ordering 'suspension of all movings' were also
hoisted at Garrison Point.</p>
<p>"Among other ships which were stopped in consequence
of these measures was the 'Van Gysen,' a big
steamer hailing from Rotterdam, laden, it was stated,
with steel rails for the London, Chatham, and Dover
Railway, which were to be landed at Port Victoria. She
was accordingly allowed to proceed, and anchored, or
appeared to anchor, just off the railway pier at that
place. Ten minutes later the officer of the watch on
board H.M.S. 'Medici' reported that he thought she
was getting under way again. It was then pretty dark.
An electric searchlight being switched on, the 'Van
Gysen' was discovered steaming up the river at a considerable
speed. The 'Medici' flashed the news to the
flagship, which at once fired a gun, hoisted the recall
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</SPAN></span>and the 'Van Gysen's' number in the international
code, and despatched her steam pinnace, with orders to
overhaul the Dutchman and stop him at whatever cost.
A number of the marines on guard were sent in her with
their rifles.</p>
<p>"The 'Van Gysen' seemed well acquainted with the
channel, and continually increased her speed as she
went up the river, so that she was within half a mile
of the scene of the accident before the steamboat came
up with her. The officer in charge called to the skipper
through the megaphone to stop his engines and to throw
him a rope, as he wanted to come on board. After pretending
for some time not to understand him, the skipper
slowed his engines and said, 'Ver vel, come 'longside
gangway.' As the pinnace hooked on at the gangway, a
heavy iron cylinder cover was dropped into her from
the height of the 'Van Gysen's' deck. It knocked the
bowman overboard and crashed into the fore part of
the boat, knocking a big hole in the port side forward.
She swung off at an angle and stopped to pick up the
man overboard. Her crew succeeded in rescuing him,
but she was making water fast, and there was nothing
for it but to run her into the bank. The lieutenant in
charge ordered a rifle to be fired at the 'Van Gysen' to
bring her to, but she paid not the smallest attention, as
might have been expected, and went on her way with
gathering speed.</p>
<p>"The report, however, served to attract the attention
of the two picket-boats which were patrolling up the
river. As she turned a bend in the stream they both
shot up alongside out of the darkness, and ordered
her peremptorily to stop. But the only answer they received
was the sudden extinction of all lights in the
steamer. They kept alongside, or rather one of them
did, but they were quite helpless to stay the progress of
the big wall-sided steamer. The faster of the picket-boats
shot ahead with the object of warning those who
were busy examining the wrecks. But the 'Van Gysen,'
going all she knew, was close behind, an indistinguishable
black blur in the darkness, and hardly had the
officer in the picket-boat delivered his warning before
she was heard close at hand. Within a couple of hundred
yards of the two wrecks she slowed down, for fear
of running right over them. On she came, inevitable as
Fate. There was a crash as she came into collision with
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</SPAN></span>the central deckhouses of the 'Frauenlob' and as her
bows scraped past the funnel of the 'Pole Star.' Then
followed no fewer than half a dozen muffled reports.
Her engines went astern for a moment, and down she
settled athwart the other two steamers, heeling over to
port as she did so. All was turmoil and confusion. None
of the dockyard and naval craft present were equipped
with searchlights. The harbour-master, the captain of
the yard, even the admiral superintendent, who had
just come down in his steam launch, all bawled out
orders.</p>
<p>"Lights were flashed and lanterns swung up and
down in the vain endeavour to see more of what had
happened. Two simultaneous shouts of 'Man overboard!'
came from tugs and boats at opposite sides of
the river. When a certain amount of order was restored
it was discovered that a big dockyard tug was
settling down by the head. It seems she had been
grazed by the 'Van Gysen' as she came over the obstruction,
and forced against some portion of one of the
foundered vessels, which had pierced a hole in her below
the water-line.</p>
<p>"In the general excitement the damage had not been
discovered, and now she was sinking fast. Hawsers
were made fast to her with the utmost expedition possible
in order to tow her clear of the piled-up wreckage,
but it was too late. There was only just time to rescue
her crew before she too added herself to the underwater
barricade. As for the crew of the 'Van Gysen,' it
is thought that all must have gone down in her, as no
trace of them has as yet been discovered, despite a most
diligent search, for it was considered that, in an affair
which had been so carefully planned as this certainly
must have been, some provision must surely have been
made for the escape of the crew. Those who have been
down at the scene of the disaster report that it will be
impossible to clear the channel in less than a week or
ten days, using every resource of the dockyard.</p>
<p>"A little later I thought I would go down to the dockyard
on the off-chance of picking up any further information.
The Metropolitan policeman at the gate would on
no account allow me to pass at that hour, and I was
just turning away when, by a great piece of good fortune,
I ran up against Commander Shelley.</p>
<p>"I was on board his ship as correspondent during the
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</SPAN></span>manœuvres of the year before last. 'And what are you
doing down here?' was his very natural inquiry after we
had shaken hands. I told him that I had been down
in Chatham for a week past as special correspondent,
reporting on the half-hearted preparations being made
for the possible mobilisation, and took the opportunity
of asking him if he could give me any further information
about the collision between the three steamers in
the Medway. 'Well,' said he, 'the best thing you can
do is to come right along with me. I have just been
hawked out of bed to superintend the diving operations,
which will begin the moment there is a gleam of daylight.'
Needless to say, this just suited me, and I
hastened to thank him and to accept his kind offer.
'All right,' he said, 'but I shall have to make one small
condition.'</p>
<p>"'And that is?' I queried.</p>
<p>"'Merely to let me "censor" your telegrams before
you send them,' he returned. 'You see, the Admiralty
might not like to have too much said about this business,
and I don't want to find myself in the dirt-tub.'</p>
<p>"The stipulation was a most reasonable one, and however
I disliked the notion of having probably my best
paragraphs eliminated, I could not but assent to my
friend's proposition. So away we marched down the
echoing spaces of the almost deserted dockyard till we
arrived at the 'Thunderbolt' pontoon. Here lay a
pinnace with steam up, and lighted down the sloping
side of the old ironclad by the lantern of the policeman
on duty, we stepped on board and shot out into the
centre of the stream. We blew our whistles and the
coxswain waved a lantern, whereupon a small tug that
had a couple of dockyard lighters attached gave a
hoarse 'toot' in response, and followed us down the
river. We sped along in the darkness against a strong
tide that was making upstream, past Upnor Castle, that
quaint old Tudor fortress with its long line of modern
powder magazines, and along under the deeper shadows
beneath Hoo Woods till we came abreast of the medley
of mud flats and grass-grown islets just beyond them.
Here above the thud of the engines and the plash of the
water, a thin, long-drawn-out cry wavered through the
night. 'Some one hailing the boat, sir,' reported the
lookout forward. We had all heard it. 'Ease down,'
ordered Shelley, and hardly moving against the rushing
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</SPAN></span>tideway we listened for its repetition. Again the voice
was raised in quavering supplication. 'What the dickens
does he say?' queried the commander. 'It's German,' I
answered. 'I know that language well. I think he's
asking for help. May I answer him?'</p>
<p>"'By all means. Perhaps he belongs to one of those
steamers.' The same thought was in my own mind. I
hailed in return, asking where he was and what he
wanted. The answer came back that he was a shipwrecked
seaman, who was cold, wet, and miserable, and
implored to be taken off from the islet where he found
himself, cut off from everywhere by water and darkness.
We ran the boat's nose into the bank, and presently
succeeded in hauling aboard a miserable object, wet
through, and plastered from head to foot with black Medway
mud. The broken remains of a cork life-belt hung from
his shoulders. A dram of whisky somewhat revived
him. 'And now,' said Shelley, 'you'd better cross-examine
him. We may get something out of the fellow.' The
foreigner, crouched down shivering in the stern-sheets
half covered with a yellow oilskin that some charitable
bluejacket had thrown over him, appeared to me in
the light of the lantern that stood on the deck before
him to be not only suffering from cold, but from terror.
A few moments' conversation with him confirmed my
suspicions. I turned to Shelley and exclaimed, 'He says
he'll tell us everything if we spare his life,' I explained.
'I'm sure I don't want to shoot the chap,' replied the
commander. 'I suppose he's implicated in this
"bottling up" affair. If he is, he jolly well deserves it,
but I don't suppose anything will be done to him.
Anyway, his information may be valuable, and so you
may tell him that he is all right as far as I'm concerned,
and I will do my best for him with the Admiral.
I daresay that will satisfy him. If not, you might
threaten him a bit. Tell him anything you like if you
think it will make him speak.' To cut a long story short,
I found the damp Dutchman amenable to reason, and
the following is the substance of what I elicited from him.</p>
<p>"He had been a deck hand on board the 'Van Gysen.'
When she left Rotterdam he did not know that the trip
was anything out of the way. There was a new skipper
whom he had not seen before, and there were also two
new mates with a new chief engineer. Another steamer
followed them all the way till they arrived at the Nore.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</SPAN></span>On the way over he and several other seamen were
sent for by the captain, and asked if they would volunteer
for a dangerous job, promising them £50 a-piece if it
came off all right. He and five others agreed, as did
two or three stokers, and were then ordered to remain
aft and not communicate with any others of the crew.
Off the Nore all the remainder were transferred
to the following steamer, which steamed off to
the eastward. After they were gone the selected men
were told that the officers all belonged to the Imperial
German Navy, and by orders of the Kaiser were about
to attempt to block up the Medway.</p>
<p>"A collision between two other ships had been
arranged for, one of which was loaded with a mass of
old steel rails into which liquid cement had been run, so
that her hold contained a solid impenetrable block. The
'Van Gysen' carried a similar cargo, and was provided
with an arrangement for blowing holes in her bottom.
The crew were provided with life-belts, and the half
of the money promised, and all except the captain, the
engineer, and the two mates dropped overboard just before
arriving at the sunken vessels. They were advised
to make their way to Gravesend, and then to shift for
themselves as best they could. He had found himself
on a small island, and could not muster up courage to
plunge into the cold water again in the darkness.</p>
<p>"'By Jove! This means war with Germany, man!—War!'
was Shelley's comment. At two o'clock this afternoon
we knew that it did, for the news of the enemy's
landing in Norfolk was signalled down from the dockyard.
We also knew from the divers that the cargo of
the sunken steamers was what the rescued seamen had
stated it to be. Our bottle has been fairly well corked."</p>
<p>This amazing revelation showed how cleverly contrived
was the German plan of hostilities. All our splendid
ships at Chatham had, in that brief half-hour, been
bottled up and rendered utterly useless. Yet the
authorities were not blameless in the matter, for in
November, 1905, a foreign warship actually came up the
Medway in broad daylight, and was not noticed until
she began to bang away her salutes, much to the utter
consternation of every one.</p>
<p>This incident, however, was but one of the many
illustrations of German's craft and cunning. The whole
scheme had been years in careful preparation.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>She intended to invade us, and regarded every stratagem
as allowable in her sudden dash upon England,
an expedition which promised to result in the most
desperate war of modern times.</p>
<p>At that moment the "Globe," at last aroused from
its long and peaceful sleep, reproduced those plain, prophetic
words of Lord Overstone, written some years before
to the Royal Defence Commission: "Negligence
alone can bring about the calamity under discussion.
Unless we suffer ourselves to be surprised we cannot be
invaded with success. It is useless to discuss what will
occur or what can be done after London has fallen into
the hands of an invading foe. The apathy which may
render the occurrence of such a catastrophe possible will
not afterwards enable the country, enfeebled, dispirited,
and disorganised by the loss of its capital, to redeem the
fatal error."</p>
<p>Was that prophecy to be fulfilled?</p>
<p>Some highly interesting information was given by
the Ipswich correspondent of the Central News.</p>
<p>Repeated briefly, it was as follows:—</p>
<p>"Shortly before three o'clock on Sunday morning the
coastguard at Lowestoft, Corton, and Beach End discovered
that their telephonic communication was interrupted,
and half an hour later, to the surprise of every
one a miscellaneous collection of mysterious craft were
seen approaching the harbour: and within an hour
many of them were high and dry on the beach, while
others were lashed alongside the old dock, the new fish-docks
of the Great Eastern Railway, and the wharves,
disembarking a huge force of German infantry, cavalry,
motor-infantry, and artillery. The town, awakened from
its slumbers, was utterly paralysed, the more so when
it was discovered that the railway to London was already
interrupted, and the telegraph lines all cut. On landing,
the enemy commandeered all provisions, including
all motor-cars they could discover, horses and forage,
while the banks were seized, and the infantry, falling
in marched up Old Nelson Street into High Street, and
out upon the Beccles Road. The first care of the invaders
was to prevent the people of Lowestoft damaging
the Swing Bridge, a strong guard being instantly mounted
upon it, and so quietly and orderly was the landing effected
that it was plain the German plans of invasion were
absolutely perfect in every detail.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"Few hitches seemed to occur. The mayor was summoned
at six o'clock by General von Kronhelm, the
generalissimo of the German Army, and briefly informed
that the town of Lowestoft was occupied, and that all
armed resistance would be punished by death. Then,
ten minutes later, when the German war-flag was flying
from several flagstaffs in various parts of the town, the
people realised their utter helplessness.</p>
<p>"The Germans, of course, knew that, irrespective of
the weather, a landing could be effected at Lowestoft,
where the fish-docks and wharves, with their many
cranes, were capable of dealing with a large amount of
stores. The Denes, that flat, sandy plain between the
upper town and the sea, they turned into a camping-ground,
and large numbers were billeted in various quarters
of the town itself.</p>
<p>"The people were terror-stricken. To appeal to London
for help was impossible, as the place had been cut
entirely off, and around it a strong chain of outposts
had already been thrown, preventing any one from
escaping. The town had, in a moment, as it seemed,
fallen at the mercy of the foreigners. Even the important-looking
police constables of Lowestoft, with their
little canes, were crestfallen, sullen, and inactive.</p>
<p>"While the landing was continuing during all Sunday
the advance guard moved rapidly over Mutford Bridge,
along the Beccles Road, occupying a strong position
on the west side of the high ground east of Lowestoft.
Beccles, where von Kronhelm established his headquarters,
resting as it does on the River Waveney, is strongly
held. The enemy's main position appears to run from
Windle Hill, one mile north-east of Gillingham, thence
north-west through Bull's Green, Herringfleet Hill, over
to Grove Farm and Hill House to Raveningham, whence
it turns easterly to Haddiscoe, which is at present its
northern limit. The total front from Beccles Bridge
north is about five miles, and commands the whole of
the flat plain west towards Norwich. It has its south
flank resting on the River Waveney, and to the north
on Thorpe Marshes. The chief artillery position is at
Toft Monks—the highest point. Upon the high tower
of Beccles Church is established a signal station, communication
being made constantly with Lowestoft by
helio by day, and acetylene lamps by night.</p>
<p>"The enemy's position has been most carefully chosen,
for it is naturally strong, and, being well held to protect
Lowestoft from any attack from the west, the landing
can continue uninterruptedly, for Lowestoft beach and
docks are now entirely out of the line of any British
fire.</p>
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</SPAN></span></p>
<h2>PROCLAMATION.</h2>
<h3>CITIZENS OF LONDON.</h3>
<div class="blockquot">
<p>THE NEWS OF THE BOMBARDMENT of the
City of Newcastle and the landing of the German
Army at Hull, Weybourne, Yarmouth, and other
places along the East Coast is unfortunately confirmed.</p>
<p>THE ENEMY'S INTENTION is to march upon
the City of London, which must be resolutely defended.</p>
<p>THE BRITISH NATION and the Citizens of London,
in face of these great events, must be energetic
in order to vanquish the invader.</p>
<p>The ADVANCE must be CHALLENGED FOOT
BY FOOT. The people must fight for King and
Country.</p>
<p>Great Britain is not yet dead, for indeed, the more
serious her danger, the stronger will be her unanimous
patriotism.</p>
<h3>GOD SAVE THE KING.</h3>
<div class="right">HARRISON, <i>Lord Mayor</i>.</div>
<p><span class="smcap">Mansion House</span>,<br/>
<span class="smcap">London</span>, <i>September 3rd, 1910</i>.</p>
</div>
<div class="figcenter"> <SPAN href="images/i035-hi.png"><ANTIMG src="images/i035.png" width-obs="408" height-obs="600" alt="THE LORD MAYOR'S APPEAL TO LONDON." title="" /></SPAN> <span class="caption">THE LORD MAYOR'S APPEAL TO LONDON.</span></div>
<hr style="width: 45%;" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>"March outposts are at Blythburgh, Wenhaston,
Holton, Halesworth, Wissett, Rumburgh, Homersfield,
and Bungay, and then north to Haddiscoe, while cavalry
patrols watch by day, the line roughly being from Leiston
through Saxmundham, Framlingham, and Tannington,
to Hoxne.</p>
<p>"The estimate, gleaned from various sources in Lowestoft
and Beccles, is that up to Monday at midday nearly
a whole Army Corps, with stores, guns, ammunition,
etc., had already landed, while there are also reports of
a further landing at Yarmouth, and at a spot still farther
north, but at present there are no details.</p>
<p>"The enemy," he concluded, "are at present in a
position of absolute security."</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />