HELP FROM OUR COLONIES.
Days passed--dark, dismal, dispiriting. Grim-visaged War had crushed all
joy and gaiety from British hearts, and fierce patriotism and
determination to fight on until the bitter end mingled everywhere with
hunger, sadness, and despair. British homes had been desecrated, British
lives had been sacrificed, and through the land the invaders rushed
ravaging with fire and sword.
Whole towns had been overwhelmed and shattered, great tracts of rich
land in Sussex and Hampshire had been laid waste, and the people,
powerless against the enormous forces sweeping down upon them, had been
mercilessly mowed down and butchered by Cossacks, whose brutality was
fiendish. Everywhere there were reports of horrible atrocities, of
heartless murders, and wholesale slaughter of the helpless and
unoffending.
The situation, both in Great Britain and on the Continent, was most
critical. The sudden declaration of hostilities by France and Russia had
resulted in a great war in which nearly all European nations were
involved. Germany had sent her enormous land forces over her frontiers
east and west, successfully driving back the French along the Vosges,
and occupying Dijon, Chalons-sur-Saone, and Lyons. Valmy, Nancy, and
Metz had again been the scenes of sanguinary encounters, and Chaumont
and Troyes had both fallen into the hands of the Kaiser's legions. In
Poland, however, neither Germans nor Austrians had met with such
success. A fierce battle had been fought at Thorn between the Tsar's
forces and the Germans, and the former, after a desperate stand, were
defeated, and the Uhlans, dragoons, and infantry of the Fatherland had
swept onward up the valley of the Vistula to Warsaw. Here the resistance
offered by General Bodisco was very formidable, but the city was
besieged, while fierce fighting was taking place all across the level
country that lay between the Polish capital and the Prussian frontier.
Austrians and Hungarians fought fiercely, the Tyrolese Jaegers displaying
conspicuous bravery at Brody, Cracow, Jaroslav, and along the banks of
the San, and they had succeeded up to the present in preventing the
Cossacks and Russian infantry from reaching the Carpathians, although an
Austrian army corps advancing into Russia along the Styr had been
severely cut up and forced to retreat back to Lemberg.
Italy had burst her bonds. Her Bersaglieri, cuirassiers, Piedmontese
cavalry, and carabiniers had marched along the Corniche road into
Provence, and, having occupied Nice, Cannes, and Draguigan, were on
their way to attack Marseilles, while the Alpine infantry, taking the
road over Mont Cenis, had, after very severe fighting in the beautiful
valley between Susa and Bardonnechia, at last occupied Modane and
Chambery, and now intended joining hands with the Germans at Lyons.
France was now receiving greater punishment than she had anticipated,
and even those members of the Cabinet and Deputies who were responsible
for the sudden invasion of England were compelled to admit that they had
made a false move. The frontiers were being ravaged, and although the
territorial regiments remaining were considered sufficient to repel
attack, yet the Army of the Saone had already been cut to pieces. In
these circumstances, France, knowing the great peril she ran in
prolonging the invasion of Britain, was desperately anxious to make the
British sue for peace, so that she could turn her attention to events at
home, and therefore, although in a measure contravening International
Law, she had instructed her Admirals to bombard British seaports and
partially-defended towns.
Although the guns of the hostile fleet had wrought such appalling havoc
on the Humber, on the Tyne, and along the coast of Kent and Sussex,
nevertheless the enemy had only secured a qualified success. The cause
of all the disasters that had befallen us, of the many catastrophes on
land and sea, was due to the wretchedly inadequate state of our Navy,
although the seven new battleships and six cruisers commenced in 1894
were now complete and afloat.
Had we possessed an efficient Navy the enemy could never have approached
our shores. We had not a sufficient number of ships to replace
casualties. Years behind in nearly every essential point, Britain had
failed to give her cruisers either speed or guns equal in strength to
those of other nations. Our guns were the worst in the world, no fewer
than 47 vessels still mounting 350 old muzzleloaders, weapons discarded
by every other European Navy.
For years it had been a race between the hare and the tortoise. We had
remained in dreamy unconsciousness of danger, while other nations had
quickly taken advantage of all the newly-discovered modes of destruction
that make modern warfare so terrible.
Notwithstanding the odds against us in nearly every particular, the
British losses had been nothing as compared with those of the enemy.
This spoke much for British pluck and pertinacity. With a force against
them of treble their strength, British bluejackets had succeeded in
sinking a number of the finest and most powerful ships of France and
Russia. France had lost the _Amiral Duperre_, a magnificent steel vessel
of eleven thousand tons; the _Neptune_ and _Redoutable_, a trifle
smaller; the _Tonnerre_, the _Terrible_, the _Furieux_, the
_Indomptable_, the _Caiman_, all armoured ships, had been lost; while
the cruisers _D'Estaing_, _Sfax_, _Desaix_, _Cosamo_, _Faucon_, the
despatch-vessel _Hirondelle_, the gunboats _Iberville_, _Gabes_, and
_Lance_, and eleven others, together with sixteen torpedo boats and
numbers of transports, had been either blown up, burned, or otherwise
destroyed.
The losses the Russians had sustained, in addition to the many
transports and general service steamers, included the great steel
cruiser _Nicolai I._, the vessels _Gerzog Edinburgskij_, _Syzran_,
_Rynda_, _Asia_, _Gangut_, _Kranaya Gorka_, _Olaf_, and the torpedo boat
_Abo_, with eight others.
The destruction of this enormous force had, of course, not been effected
without an infliction of loss upon the defenders, yet the British
casualties bore no comparison to those of the enemy. True, the armoured
turret-ship _Conqueror_ had, alas! been sacrificed; the fine
barbette-ships _Centurion_ and _Rodney_ had gone to the bottom; the
splendid first-class cruiser _Aurora_ and the cruiser _Narcissus_ had
been blown up; while the cruisers _Terpsichore_, _Melampus_, _Tribune_,
_Galatea_, and _Canada_, with a number of torpedo boats and "catchers,"
had also been destroyed, yet not before every crew had performed heroic
deeds worthy of record in the world's history, and every vessel had
shown the French and Russians what genuine British courage could effect.
Still the invaders were striking swift, terrible blows. On the Humber
and the Tyne the loss of life had been appalling. The bombardment of
Brighton, the sack of Eastbourne, and the occupation of the Downs by the
land forces, had been effected only by wholesale rapine and awful
bloodshed, and Britain waited breathlessly, wondering in what direction
the next catastrophe would occur.
Such newspapers as in these dark days continued to appear reported how
great mass meetings were being held all over the United States,
denouncing the action of the Franco-Russian forces.
In New York, Chicago, Washington, Philadelphia, Boston, San Francisco,
and other cities, resolutions were passed at enormous demonstrations by
the enthusiastic public, demanding that the United States Government
should give an immediate ultimatum to France that unless she withdrew
her troops from British soil, war would be declared against her.
Special sittings of Congress were being held daily at Washington for the
purpose of discussing the advisability of such a step; influential
deputations waited upon the President, and all the prominent statesmen
were interviewed by the various enterprising New York journals, the
result showing a great preponderance of feeling that such a measure
should be at once taken.
In British colonies throughout the world the greatest indignation and
most intense excitement prevailed. Already bodies of Volunteers were on
their way from Australia and Cape Town, many of the latter, under Major
Scott, having already been in England and shot as competitors at Bisley.
From India a number of native regiments had embarked for Southampton,
but the Northern frontier stations had been strengthened in anticipation
of a movement south by Russia, and the French Indian possessions,
Pondichery and Karikal, were occupied by British troops.
An expedition from Burmah had crossed the Shan States into Tonquin, and
with the assistance of the British Squadron on the China Station had,
after hard fighting, occupied a portion of the country, while part of
the force had gone farther south and commenced operations in French
Cochin-China by a vigorous attack on Saigon.
Armed British forces had also landed in Guadaloupe and Martinique, two
of the most fertile of the West Indian Islands, and St. Bartholomew had
also been occupied by West Indian regiments.
On the outbreak of hostilities intense patriotism spread through Canada,
and from the shores of Lake Superior away to far Vancouver a movement
was at once made to assist the Mother Country. In Quebec, Montreal,
Ottawa, Toronto, and Kingston mass meetings were held, urging the
Dominion Government to allow a force of Volunteers to go to England
without delay; and this universal demand was the more gratifying when it
was remembered that more than a quarter of the population were
themselves French. Nevertheless the knowledge that Britain was in danger
was sufficient to arouse patriotism everywhere, and within a few days
20,000 Volunteers were enrolled, and these, before a fortnight had
passed, were on their way to Liverpool. Great was the enthusiasm when, a
few days later, to the strains of "Rule, Britannia," the first
detachment landed in the Mersey, and as they marched through the crowded
streets, the people, delighted at this practical demonstration of
sympathy, wrung the hands of the patriots of the West. Vessel after
vessel, escorted by British cruisers, arrived at the landing-stage, and
discharged their regiments of men to whom the knowledge of Britain's
danger had been sufficient incentive to induce them to act their part as
Britons. Then, when the last vessel had arrived, they were formed into a
brigade, and set out to march south in the direction of Birmingham.
Meanwhile a great loan was being floated in Australia and the United
States. The former colony had but recently passed through a serious
financial crisis, but in America a sum of no less than L200,000,000 was
taken up, although the issue only continued a few days. In Wall Street
the excitement was intense, and the struggle to invest was desperate. No
such scenes had ever been witnessed within the memory of the oldest
member of the Stock Exchange, for financiers were determined to assist
the greatest Power on earth; indeed, apart from the sound security
offered, they felt it their duty to do so. Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane,
and Calcutta all contributed in more or less degree, and the loan
immediately proved the most successful ever floated.
To Britain on every side a helping hand was outstretched, and,
irrespective of politics and party bickerings, assistance was rendered
in order that she might crush her enemies. Britannia gathered her
strength, and armed herself for the fierce combat which she knew must
decide the destiny of her glorious Empire.
London, starving, terror-stricken, and haunted continually by
apprehensions of an unknown doom, was in a state of restlessness both
night and day. Food supplies had failed, the cheapest bread was sold at
3s. 8d. a small loaf, and neither fish nor meat could be purchased.
In the City the panic was frightful. Business was paralysed, hundreds
were being ruined daily, and after the first sensation and headlong rush
on the Stock Exchange, transactions remained at a standstill. Then
suddenly, when the seriousness of the situation was fully understood,
there was a run on the banks.
Crowds, eager and clamouring, surrounded the Bank of England, and
establishments in Lombard Street and elsewhere, with cheques in their
hands, demanding their deposits in gold. Although weak and half-starved,
they desired their money in order to flee and take with them all they
possessed before the enemy swept down upon London.
Day and night in all the City banks the cashiers were kept paying out
thousands upon thousands in hard shining gold. The clink of coin, the
jingle of scales, and the eager shouts of those feverishly anxious for
their turn, and fearing the resources would not hold out, formed a loud
incessant din.
As the days passed, and the run on the banks continued, one after
another of the establishments, both in the City and the West End, unable
to withstand the heavy withdrawals, were compelled to close their doors.
Many were banks of such high reputation that the very fact of being a
depositor was a hall-mark of a man's prosperity, while others were minor
establishments, whose business was mainly with small accounts and
middle-class customers. One by one they failed to fulfil their
obligations, and closed; and the unfortunate ones, including many women
who had not been able to struggle successfully to get inside, turned
away absolutely ruined!
In the West End the starving poor had formed processions, and marched
through Mayfair and Belgravia demanding bread, while Anarchists held
council in front of the blackened ruins of the National Gallery, and the
Unemployed continued their declamatory oratory on Tower Hill. The
starving thousands from the East End ran riot in the aristocratic
thoroughfares of Kensington, and, heedless of the police,--who were, in
fact, powerless before such superior numbers,--residences of the rich
were entered and searched for food, and various acts of violence
ensued. The cellars of clubs, hotels, and private houses were broken
open and sacked, granaries were emptied, wholesale grocery warehouses
were looted, and flour mills searched from roof to basement. If they
could not obtain food, they said, they would drink. A desperate starving
crowd then forced an entry to the wine vaults at the Docks, and
swallowed priceless vintages from pewter pots. Hogsheads of port and
sherry were carried up into the streets, and amid scenes of wild
disorder were tapped and drunk by the excited and already
half-intoxicated multitude.
For days London remained at the mercy of a drunken, frenzied rabble.
Murder and incendiarism were committed in every quarter, and many
serious and desperate conflicts occurred between the rioters and the
law-abiding patriotic citizens.
Enthusiasm was displayed by even the latter, when an infuriated mob one
night surrounded Albert Gate House, the French Embassy, and, breaking
open the door, entered it, and flung the handsome furniture from the
windows.
Those below made a huge pile in the street, and when the whole of the
movable effects had been got out, the crowd set fire to them, and also
to the great mansion, at the same time cheering lustily, and singing
"Rule, Britannia," as they watched the flames leap up and consume both
house and furniture.
The servants of the Embassy had fortunately escaped, otherwise they
would no doubt have fared badly at the hands of the lawless assembly.
When the fire had burned itself out, however, a suggestion was spread,
and the mob with one accord rushed to the Russian Embassy in Chesham
Place.
This house was also entered, and the furniture flung pell-mell from the
windows, that too large to pass through being broken up in the rooms,
and the fragments thrown to the shouting crowd below.
Chairs, tables, ornaments, mirrors, bedding, kitchen utensils, and
crockery were thrown out, carpets were taken up, and curtains and
cornices torn down by ruthless denizens of Whitechapel and Shoreditch,
who, maddened by drink, were determined to destroy everything belonging
to the countries which had brought disaster upon them.
Presently, when nearly all the furniture had been removed, some man,
wild-haired and excited, emerged into the street, with a great flag he
had discovered in one of the attics. With a shout of delight he unfurled
it. It was a large yellow one, upon which was depicted a huge black
double eagle; the flag that had been hoisted at the Embassy on various
State occasions.
Its appearance was greeted by a fearful howl of rage, and the infuriated
people, falling upon the man who waved it, tore it into shreds, which
they afterwards cast into the bonfire they had made for the Ambassador's
furniture.
From the archives the secret papers and reports of spies were taken,
and, being torn into fragments, were scattered from an upper window to
the winds, until at last, men, snatching up flaring brands from the huge
bonfire, rushed into the dismantled mansion, and, having poured
petroleum in many of the apartments, ignited them.
Flames quickly spread through the house, belching forth from the
windows, and, ascending, had soon burst through the roof, illuminating
the neighbourhood with a bright, fitful glare. The mob, as the flames
leaped up and crackled, screamed with fiendish delight. From thousands
of hoarse throats there went up loud cries of "Down with the Tsar! Down
with Russia!" And as the great bonfire died down, and the roof of the
Embassy collapsed with a crash, causing the flames to shoot higher and
roar more vigorously, they sang with one accord, led by a man who had
mounted some railings, the stirring British song, "The Union Jack of Old
England."
Although the colonies had shown how zealously they were prepared to
guard the interests of the Mother Country, their public spirit was
eclipsed by the spontaneous outburst of patriotism which occurred in
Ireland. Mass meetings were being held in Belfast, Dublin, Cork,
Waterford, Limerick, Londonderry, Sligo, Armagh, Dundalk, Newry, and
dozens of other places, at which men of all grades of society
unanimously decided by resolution to raise Volunteer regiments to take
arms against the foe.
The knowledge of Britain's danger had aroused the patriotic feelings of
the people, and they were determined to give their sovereign a proof of
their allegiance, cost what it might.
The movement was a general one. Nationalists and Unionists vied in their
eagerness to demonstrate their love for the Empire, and that part of it
which was now in danger.
Already the Irish Reserve forces had been mobilised and sent to their
allotted stations. The 3rd Irish Rifles from Newtownards, the 5th
Battalion from Downpatrick, and the 6th from Dundalk, were at Belfast
under arms; the Donegal Artillery from Letterkenny had already gone to
Harwich to assist in the defence of the east coast; and both the
Londonderry and Sligo Artillery had gone to Portsmouth; while the 3rd
Irish Fusiliers from Armagh were at Plymouth, and the 4th Battalion from
Cavan had left to assist in the defence of the Severn.
Whatever differences of political opinion had previously existed between
them on the question of Home Rule, were forgotten by the people in the
face of the great danger which threatened the Empire to which they
belonged. The national peril welded the people together, and shoulder to
shoulder they marched to lay down their lives, if necessary, in the work
of driving back the invader.
Within six days of this spontaneous outburst of patriotism, 25,000
Irishmen of all creeds and political opinions were on their way to
assist their English comrades. As might have been expected, the greater
number of these Volunteers came from the North of Ireland, but every
district sent its sons, eager to take part in the great struggle. At the
great meetings held at Dublin, Belfast, Cork, Limerick, Wexford,
Waterford, Strabane, Newtown-Stewart, Downpatrick, Ballymena, and dozens
of other places all over the country, from the Giant's Causeway to Cape
Clear, and from Dublin to Galway Bay, the most intense enthusiasm was
shown, and men signed their names to the roll in hundreds, many
subscribing large sums to defray the cost of equipment and other
expenses. Each passenger or mail boat from Larne to Stranraer, from
Dublin to Holyhead, every steamer from Belfast to Whitehaven and
Liverpool, brought over well-armed contingents of stalwart men, who,
after receiving hearty receptions of the most enthusiastic and
flattering description, were moved south to Stamford in Lincolnshire as
quickly as the disorganised railway service would allow.
The object of the military authorities in concentrating them at this
point was to strengthen the great force of defenders now marching south.
Detraining at Stamford, the commanding officer had orders to march to
Oundle, by way of King's Cliffe and Fotheringhay, and there remain until
joined by a brigade of infantry with the Canadians coming from
Leicestershire. The great body of men at length mustered, answered the
roll, and marched through the quiet old-world streets of Stamford, and
out upon the broad highway to King's Cliffe on the first stage of their
journey.
It was early morning. In the sunlight the dew still glistened like
diamonds on the wayside, as regiment after regiment, with firm, steady
step, and shouldering their rifles, bravely passed away through the
fields of ripe uncut corn, eager to unite with a force of Regulars, and
strike their first blow for their country's liberty.
Sturdy fishermen from the rough shores of Donegal marched side by side
with townsmen and artisans from Dublin, Belfast, and Limerick; sons of
wealthy manufacturers in Antrim and Down bore arms with stalwart
peasantry from Kerry and Tipperary; while men whose poor but cherished
cabins overlooked Carlingford Lough, united with fearless patriots from
Carlow, Wexford, and Waterford.
Since they landed on English soil, they had met with a boundless
welcome.
In the rural districts the distress was not yet so great as in the
larger towns; consequently at King's Cliffe, when the first detachment
halted for rest in the long straggling street of the typical English
village, the bells of the quaint old church were rung, and villagers
gave their defenders bread, cheese, and draughts of ale. While the men
were standing at ease and eating heartily, two officers entered
Bailey's, the village grocery store, which served as post office, and
received a cipher telegraphic despatch. They emerged into the roadway
immediately, and their faces showed that some unforeseen event had
occurred. A third officer was summoned, and a hurried and secret
consultation took place as they stood together opposite the Cross Keys
Inn.
"But can we do it?" queried the youngest of the trio, aloud, pulling on
his gloves, and settling the hang of his sword.
The grave elder man, commander of the brigade, glanced quickly at his
watch, with knit brows.
"Do it?" he replied, with a marked Irish accent. "We must. It'll be a
dash for life; but the boys are fresh, and as duty calls, we must push
onward, even though we may be marching to our doom. Go," he said to the
youngest of his two companions, "tell them we are moving, and that our
advance guard will reach them at the earliest possible moment."
The young lieutenant hurried over to the little shop, and as he did so
the colonel gave an order, and a bugle awoke the echoes of the village.
Quick words of command sounded down the quaint, ancient street, followed
by the sharp click of arms. Again officers' voices sounded loud and
brief, and at the word "March!" the great body of stern loyalists moved
onward over the bridge, and up the School Hill on to the long winding
road which led away through Apesthorpe and historic Fotheringhay to
Oundle.
The message from the front had been immediately responded to, for a few
minutes later the excited villagers stood watching the rearguard
disappearing in the cloud of dust raised by the heavy tread of the
thousand feet upon the white highway.
[Illustration: IRISH VOLUNTEERS HALTING IN KING'S CLIFFE.]