THE CAPTAIN
OF THE “MARY ROSE”
[Illustration: “THEY WERE ALL A MASS OF LIGHTS.”
_See page 35._
]
THE CAPTAIN
OF THE “MARY ROSE”
A Tale of To-morrow
BY
W. LAIRD CLOWES
UNITED STATES NAVAL INSTITUTE
_ILLUSTRATED BY THE CHEVALIER EDOUARDO DE MARTINO
AND FRED T. JANE_
SEVENTH EDITION
LONDON: W. THACKER & CO., 2 CREED LANE, E.C.
CALCUTTA: THACKER, SPINK & CO.
1898
[_All Rights Reserved_]
To
REAR-ADMIRAL
JOHN ARBUTHNOT FISHER, C.B.
ONE OF THE LORDS COMMISSIONERS OF THE ADMIRALTY
AND
CONTROLLER OF THE NAVY
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED
IN REMEMBRANCE OF
TWO PORTSMOUTH LUNCHEON PARTIES
(AUGUST 19TH AND 25TH, 1891)
EACH OF WHICH WAS ENLIVENED BY A KIND HOST’S WIT
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAPTER I.
A BOLT FROM THE BLUE 1
CHAPTER II.
THE BATTLE OFF TOULON 25
CHAPTER III.
SOME STAGGERING BLOWS 65
CHAPTER IV.
A LETTER OF MARQUE 105
CHAPTER V.
THE ATTACK ON THE ROCK 135
CHAPTER VI.
THE SAILING OF THE “MARY ROSE” 164
CHAPTER VII.
THE FORCING OF THE STRAITS 192
CHAPTER VIII.
THE CHASE TO MALTA 227
CHAPTER IX.
A “GLORIOUS FIRST OF JUNE” 258
CHAPTER X.
“HOME AND BEAUTY” 300
ILLUSTRATIONS.
_From Drawings by the CHEVALIER EDOUARDO DE MARTINO and FRED T. JANE._
PAGE
“They were all a mass of lights” (_see page_ 35) _Frontispiece_
“Even some obsolete gunboats” 9
“Masthead electric lights of novel design are being fitted to
some of the larger battleships” 13
“Was only a steam yacht” 19
“Certain craft were ordered to use their search-lights
in combination” 29
“A number of French ships were coming out” 33
“Suddenly a ship near the centre of the French line began to use
her search-lights” 37
“The effect of the light when it shines in the eyes of the
spectator is confusing” 41
“It is impossible to guess how far off the projector is” 45
“A torpedo hit us on the port bow” 49
“By the enemy’s terrible fire” 53
“Remember what they will say at home” 57
“The _Alexandra_ has also arrived” 61
“The Channel Fleet has been ordered home” 67
“Ships were taking in powder and shell” 71
“A couple of first-class torpedo boats were sent out” 75
“Every vessel opened in the direction of the foe” 79
“They rendered all the other craft of the enemy invisible” 83
“It was fearful work; the very silence of the grey boats made
the scene the more impressive” 87
“The blowing up of the _Minotaur_” 91
“The attack on the _Hercules_” 95
“May I never live to have another so awful experience” 99
“A torpedo exploded under her own port quarter” 103
“The _Bellona_ ashore” 107
“Whose steam launch narrowly escaped being run down” 111
“The Fleet at Spithead” 115
The letter of marque _Valdivia_ (afterwards _Mary Rose_) 121
Deck plan of the _Valdivia_ 129
“Off the Rock” 139
“They opened a furious fire” 143
“All night long the bombardment continued” 147
No. 70 153
“I have done it!” 159
The _Mary Rose_ escorted out of the Tyne 171
“The foretop over which peeped the covered muzzle of a gun” 177
“Give her the bow 9·4-in. gun” 185
The _Mary Rose_ and prizes entering Plymouth Sound 189
Coaling off the Wadi Gloug 197
“Steaming with his coal” 201
“Ordered the starboard 9·4-in. gun to be fired” 207
“It was impossible to distinguish the order in which the
French Fleet was steaming” 217
_Mary Rose_ torpedoing an ironclad 223
“Suspicious-looking objects were creeping up” 241
“It was short, quick, terrible work” 245
“Their white bow waves betrayed them” 249
“Suddenly a rocket shot up” 253
“The _Troude_ was warily coming up” 259
“On board the _Cécille_ a perfectly awful state of affairs
was found” 263
The _Cristoforo Colombo_ 275
“In the days of sailing ships” 279
An Atlantic greyhound 283
“Gib” 287
The _Royal Sovereign_ 291
“I had the misfortune to lose the _Dreadnought_” 295
A “glorious first of June” 301
PREFACE.
To every Briton, the question: “What will the sea-fighting of to-morrow
be like?” is of supreme interest and importance. Ours is a sea empire.
The confines of our dominions lie, not upon our own coasts, but upon
the coasts of our neighbours; and unless in the future we can, as we
have done in the past, hold our dominions, be they shore or be they
ocean, against all comers, our national glory will be eclipsed, our
wealth will vanish, and our greatness will be annihilated.
It is primarily in order to put forward a tentative answer to this
question that I have written the story of the _Mary Rose_. I have
seen no real fighting at sea. There are very few who have. But I have
seen an immense amount of sham-fighting--more, it is possible, than
anyone else; for, besides witnessing manœuvres abroad, I have for
eight successive years gone afloat to follow the operations consequent
upon the annual mobilisation in our own home waters. The sham thing,
I am quite aware, must be very different from the terrible reality.
It affords, nevertheless, a key to the reality; and, armed with that
key, I have been so bold as to endeavour to open the future. Similar
endeavours have been made before. In conjunction with my friend,
Commander Charles Napier Robinson, R.N., I myself made the endeavour
in 1886, when Messrs. Hatchards re-published for us, from the pages
of the _St. James’s Gazette_, “The Great Naval War of 1887.” Not long
afterwards another friend, Mr. H. O. Arnold-Forster, now M.P. for West
Belfast, contributed to a monthly magazine his excellent forecast
called “In a Conning Tower; or, How I took H.M.S. _Majestic_ into
Action,” and last year he re-published it. Last year, also, appeared
“The Last Great Naval War: An Historical Retrospect,” by “A. Nelson
Seaforth,” whom, I shrewdly suspect, I have the pleasure of knowing
under a name which, in the Navy, is closely identified with lamps,
signals, speeches at the Royal United Service Institution, and letters
to _The Times_. Other endeavours I need not particularly allude to. The
present one is intended to differ from its predecessors in being less
technical, and in paying attention to some aspects of naval warfare
that have been neglected by all the rest. These aspects, I venture to
hope, will especially recommend themselves to British boys. If they
will take an intelligent interest in modern naval developments, we
shall not, twenty or thirty years hence, have to lament that upon naval
questions the tax-paying public is ignorant or apathetic; for not only
the boy is the father of the man, but also the study of matters naval
is so seductive that, I believe, no Englishman who has once taken it up
has ever willingly relinquished it.
My first aim, then, has been to give a readable tentative answer to
the question: “What will the sea-fighting of to-morrow be like?”
My second has been to call attention to our position in the
Mediterranean. We maintain there a large Fleet of fine ships, and it is
our duty to do so; because we are a Mediterranean Power of the first
rank; because, while we are paramount in the Mediterranean, we are,
to a far greater extent than is commonly realised, the peace-keepers
of Europe; and because our paramount position in the waters of the
Mediterranean is essential to the preservation of most valuable
material interests, which, if we once lost them, we might never be
able to regain. And so we maintain a large Mediterranean Fleet. But
“large” is, after all, only a comparative term. France has at her
immediate disposal a far larger one in the same sea, and unless we
keep our naval strength in the Mediterranean, as elsewhere, superior
to that of France, our only dangerous naval rival, we imperil our
position. The ships which are mentioned in the story are all existing
ships. The Mediterranean ships mentioned are practically the existing
Mediterranean Fleets.
In writing as I have written, I have been animated by no unfriendly and
by no unfair feeling towards France. I have represented French officers
as being fully as scientific and brave as their British “opposite
numbers,” and I have never represented a Frenchman as doing a thing
which, if done by an Englishman, would shame him. In the past, when we
have been enemies, we have, I trust, been honest and cordial ones. I am
sure that, in the future, if fate should unhappily make us opponents,
we shall not be less loyal foes than we were ninety years ago, and
that afterwards we shall not diminish our respect one for the other.
I am most fortunate in having had, in this work, the co-operation of
my friend, that most distinguished of marine painters, the Chevalier
Edouardo de Martino. He volunteered to illustrate what I should
write; and to receive such an offer from so admirable an artist was,
of course, to gladly accept it. When, as he and I believed, we had
completed our labour, he was called to South America. The editor of
_The Engineer_ was then so good as to think that the story of the _Mary
Rose_ might be welcome to the readers of his paper. He wished, however,
to have additional illustrations, and these were in due time supplied
by Mr. F. T. Jane, a young artist who has already made his mark in this
particular branch of black and white drawing. While the story was being
published in _The Engineer_, Mr. Jane offered to prepare a number of
further illustrations, and these, now printed for the first time, will,
I think, be found among the most effective of his contributions. To the
proprietors of _The Engineer_, for their permission to use Mr. Jane’s
first series of illustrations, and for the facilities which they have
placed in my way, I tender my grateful thanks.
NEW TRAVELLERS’ CLUB,
PICCADILLY,
_November, 1892._
THE CAPTAIN OF THE “MARY ROSE.”
CHAPTER I.
A BOLT FROM THE BLUE.
On the morning of Tuesday, April 28th 189--, the publication in
London of the following Reuter’s telegram created no small amount
of uneasiness and excitement in commercial as well as in political
circles. The telegram was dated, “Toulon, Monday Evening,” and it was
thus worded:--
“This afternoon a bluejacket, belonging to the British Mediterranean
Fleet, which arrived here yesterday, got into an altercation in a
_café_ with a French seaman. Other sailors, British and French, who
were present, took sides; the argument assumed the dimensions of a
quarrel; blows were freely exchanged; and the British bluejackets were
at last driven into the street, and thence to their boats. In the
course of the disturbance some revolver and rifle shots were fired,
it is believed by the Frenchmen, and, unfortunately, there seems to
have been bloodshed, and possibly loss of life. Owing, however, to the
excited attitude of the local population, to the extreme reticence
of the police, and to the fact that a military cordon has been drawn
round the scene of the outbreak, it is as yet impossible to obtain any
trustworthy particulars. The Maritime Prefect at once went on board
the British flagship _Victoria_. It is supposed that his object was to
offer or to ask for explanations; but, upon his return to the shore, no
public announcement was made, and nothing definite is therefore known.
The situation, without being serious, may at any moment become so. The
local authorities are in brisk telegraphic communication with Paris.”
This telegram was, in itself, alarming; but the gravity of its import
was increased a thousandfold by an announcement which followed it in
the columns of the _Times_.
“The above news,” said that journal, “is, so far as we can learn, the
latest that has been received from France. It reached the _Times_
office shortly after eight o’clock last evening. We at once took steps
to obtain further particulars. We were, however, informed that between
half-past seven and half-past eight telegraphic communication with
France had been totally interrupted, and that all the Channel cables,
as well as the Irish cable from Havre to Waterville, had ceased to
work. There is reason, therefore, to fear that the Toulon affair is of
graver importance than Reuter’s agent seems to have suspected when he
sent off his dispatch. Up to the hour of going to press, no further
intelligence bearing upon the matter has reached us. We hope, however,
to receive further news in the course of the night by way of Belgium or
Holland, communication with those countries being still open. A copy of
Reuter’s telegram was, immediately after the arrival of the message,
posted up in all the clubs, and exhibited in the windows of several
newspaper offices in Fleet Street. The news caused much speculation and
excitement, and, for the remainder of the evening, formed everywhere
the sole topic of conversation. It is a subject for congratulation
that Parliament is sitting, and that all the Ministers are in town. In
the Commons, as will be seen on reference to our Parliamentary report,
the Under Secretary for Foreign Affairs rose at nine o’clock, and,
apologising for interrupting the senior member for Northampton, who at
the moment was speaking in support of the motion for the appointment
of a Royal Commission on International Arbitration, read the telegram
to the House, which listened in hushed silence. In reply to several
questions, the right honourable gentleman stated that he had no further
information, and that he trusted that, until further news should be
forthcoming, the House and the country would, in deference to the
susceptibilities of a friendly Power, refrain from demonstrations of
any kind. He hoped that the affair would have no serious results; and
he had every confidence, he said, that the French Government would
act in the matter with absolute fairness. In answer to a question as
to the alleged interruption of telegraphic communication, he replied
that he had no information. At a late hour all the Ministers met in
informal conclave in the Prime Minister’s room in the House of Lords.
They had not separated when we went to press, and nothing, therefore,
is known of the upshot of their deliberations. But in the lobbies, and
among private members, the fact of the interruption of communications
was definitely substantiated soon after ten o’clock, and it naturally
excited much alarm. There is very little doubt that the cables have
been deliberately cut; though a few sanguine people assert that the
non-receipt of further news is due entirely to the effects of the storm
which raged during the evening, and which, pitiless as it was, failed
to disperse the crowds that thronged the neighbourhood of St. Stephen’s
in anxious expectation of hearing that some additional Ministerial
announcement had been made. The behaviour of the people was strikingly
quiet and orderly. Strong feeling was, of course, general, but, for
the most part, its exhibition was suppressed. That there were very
few noisy demonstrations or patriotic harangues in the streets, may,
however, be partially attributed to the effect of the rain, which fell
in torrents.
“Upon inquiring at midnight at the French Embassy at Albert Gate, we
were assured that no information as to the Toulon affair had been
officially received.
“For the satisfaction of those who may be ignorant on the subject, we
give below the strength of that portion of the Mediterranean Fleet
which anchored off Toulon on Sunday afternoon.
---------------------------------------+--------+--------+-------+------
| Tons. | H.P. | Guns. | Men.
---------------------------------------+--------+--------+-------+------
Battleship, 1st class--_Camperdown_ | 10,600 | 11,500 | 10 | 526
” ” _Sanspareil_ | 10,470 | 14,000 | 15 | 587
” ” _Collingwood_ | 9,500 | 9,570 | 10 | 459
” 2nd class--_Colossus_ | 9,420 | 7,500 | 9 | 325
” ” _Dreadnought_ | 10,820 | 8,210 | 4 | 440
” ” _Edinburgh_ | 9,420 | 7,500 | 9 | 445
” 1st class--_Nile_ | 11,940 | 12,000 | 10 | 500
” 2nd class--_Inflexible_ | 11,880 | 8,010 | 12 | 460
” 1st class--_Benbow_ | 10,600 | 11,860 | 12 | 500
” ” _Trafalgar_ | 11,940 | 12,000 | 10 | 500
” ” _Victoria_ | 10,470 | 14,000 | 15 | 500
Belted cruiser-- _Australia_ | 5,600 | 8,500 | 12 | 460
” _Undaunted_ | 5,600 | 8,500 | 12 | 460
Torpedo ram-- _Polyphemus_ | 2,640 | 5,520 | -- | 132
Cruiser, 3rd class-- _Fearless_ | 1,580 | 3,300 | 4 | 140
” _Scout_ | 1,580 | 3,200 | 4 | 140
Dispatch vessel-- _Surprise_ | 1,650 | 3,030 | 4 | 93
---------------------------------------+--------+--------+-------+------
“The rest of the Mediterranean Fleet consists exclusively of unarmoured
cruisers and light vessels, and is composed of H.M. ships _Amphion_,
_Dolphin_, _Cockatrice_, _Gannet_, _Hecla_, _Imogene_, _Landrail_,
_Melita_, _Phaeton_, and _Sandfly_, with one or two stationary vessels.
Several are in the Levant or the Red Sea, and none are nearer to Toulon
than Malta or Gibraltar. Of the French ships at Toulon we have at
present no particular information. We know, however, that there are at
least twelve ironclads ready for, or actually in, commission, several
powerful cruisers, and a considerable number of torpedo boats, both
large and small.”
In a leading article on the Toulon affair, the _Times_ advised its
readers to suspend the formation of opinion until further news should
be received; to abstain from any demonstrations which might make worse
a state of things that was already sufficiently grave; and loyally to
support the Government in whatever measures it might deem itself called
upon to adopt. Much the same advice was given by all the other London
morning papers, not one of which, it should be added, contained any
more detailed news than appeared in the _Times_.
And, upon the whole, the advice was faithfully acted upon throughout
that Tuesday of anxiety and agitation. A few roughs raised insulting
shouts outside the French Embassy, and some truculent individuals
broke a window there with stones; but in each case the police promptly
interfered, and took the offenders into custody. No more news reached
London until shortly before midday; but the early editions of all
the evening papers contained the following telegram, which had been
received by way of Brussels and the Middelkerke-Ramsgate cable:--
“Advices from Toulon report that, shortly after nine o’clock last
night, the British Mediterranean Fleet, consisting of eleven
battleships, two belted cruisers, and four other vessels, quitted its
anchorage off that port. A French squadron hastily put to sea at
about the same time. The object of these movements is unknown, and in
consequence, the most alarming rumours are current. Toulon is in a
state of great excitement, and bodies of men patrol the streets singing
patriotic songs. Several British bluejackets were killed in yesterday’s
affray. The authorities refuse to give any information; but it is
known here that last evening at a late hour all the submarine cables
connecting the British Islands with France were cut by order of the
French Government. All messages that cross the Franco-Belgian frontier
are now jealously scrutinised, and several have been stopped.”
During the day, with very brief intervals between them, many still more
alarming telegrams poured in. The more important of them are quoted
below:--
“OSTEND, Tuesday, 12.15 p.m.--The British Ambassador to the French
Republic has suddenly arrived here. Late last night he was roused from
his bed and ordered to quit Paris at two hours’ notice; and he was
subsequently conducted by an armed escort to the Belgian frontier.
He leaves at once by special steamer for England. The French Toulon
Fleet, it is rumoured, put to sea yesterday evening, with orders to
prevent the British Fleet from leaving until full satisfaction should
be given for the alleged murders by British sailors during yesterday’s
riots. It is also rumoured that, in defiance of the Maritime Prefect’s
order to the contrary, the British Admiral has quitted his anchorage.
The situation is regarded as most serious; and the dismissal of the
Ambassador clearly points to a rupture. French troops are being
rapidly concentrated at Cherbourg, Brest, Lorient, Dunquerque, and
other coast towns; and it is whispered that, as a precautionary
measure, a Belgian army corps is to be mobilised and is to occupy the
frontier. Numerous British refugees from France have already reached
this place.”
“DOVER, Tuesday, 12.38 p.m.--The passenger steamer _Victoria_ started
this morning as usual for Calais. When she was at a distance of about
two miles from the French coast, a French gunboat hailed her and
informed her captain that communication between England and France is
forbidden, pending the issue of further directions from Paris. The
_Victoria_ had, therefore, no alternative but to return. Two other
passenger steamers have been similarly treated. The excitement here is
intense.”
“BRUSSELS, Tuesday, 1.50 p.m.--The French Government last night sent
to the Admiral at Toulon orders which, if they be acted upon, can only
bring about immediate war between France and Great Britain. The orders
were to prevent, at all hazards, the British Fleet from putting to sea
so long as the serious questions which were raised by yesterday’s riot
should remain unsettled. The exact nature of these questions lies in
some obscurity. The prospect of war is said to have already provoked
unbounded enthusiasm in Paris.”
“FLUSHING, Tuesday, 3.20 p.m.--It is reported that the formal
declaration by France of war with Great Britain is only a question
of hours; and it is believed that this precipitancy is due to
the conviction which is entertained in French Government circles
that England is just now very ill-prepared, particularly in the
Mediterranean; and that France, by striking a sudden and unexpected
blow, may produce results such as she could scarcely hope to attain,
if ample time were allowed her adversary for the making of complete
preparations. In the meantime the French army is mobilising.”
[Illustration: “EVEN SOME OBSOLETE GUNBOATS.”]
“PORTSMOUTH, Tuesday, 3.30 p.m.--Orders have just been received here
for the immediate commissioning of every ship in harbour that can,
by any exertion on the part of the dockyard officials, be made ready
for the pennant, and for the hurried preparation of all the rest,
not excluding several old vessels that have recently been advertised
as ‘For Sale,’ or even some obsolete gunboats. Similar orders have
been telegraphed to each of the naval ports. The dockyard, where,
until to-day, work was slacker than it has been since the departure
of the ships for last year’s Naval Manœuvres, is already the scene
of feverish activity. The coastguard ironclads have been directed to
assemble with all haste at Spithead, and not to wait for their full
complements, but to leave their respective ports as soon as they
can get up steam. Some of them are expected to-morrow. The Naval
Commander-in-Chief is now concerting with the General in command of
the Southern District elaborate measures for the defence, by means of
mines, booms, and picket-boats, of the port and of the anchorage at
Spithead, and to-night the carrying out of their plans will be begun.
Masthead electric lights of novel design are being fitted to some of
the larger battleships. These are so arranged as to shed a zone of
illumination all around the vessel, but to leave the craft herself in
comparative darkness, and it is confidently expected that they will
be of great value should our squadrons be obliged to anchor at night
within raiding distance of the enemy’s torpedo boats. Some experienced
officers, however, are of opinion that a ship which desires to remain
exempt from attack should on no account exhibit a light of this kind,
since it must of necessity be visible from a considerable distance to
the foe; and they do not hesitate to say that, even if they be supplied
with it, they will not use it. The advantage of the light lies in the
fact that no ship, so long as she employs it, can possibly be closely
approached by any enemy that does not to a very dangerous extent expose
himself. On the other hand, it is pointed out that the apparatus is
large, and offers so fine a mark for machine-gun fire, that it could
doubtless be easily extinguished by moderately good gunners at 3000
yards, or even more. Experts here are loud in their regrets that this
device, which is quite new, has not, together with other electric
lighting devices which are much older, been properly experimented with
in peace time, and that, in consequence, no certainty exists as to
either its practical utility or its vulnerability. Unfortunately there
are symptoms of the existence of a certain degree of friction between
the naval and military authorities; nor can this be wondered at when
it is remembered by how vague and arbitrary a line their respective
functions are divided. The feeling here is strongly to the effect
that all the defences on the sea-front should be unreservedly entrusted
to the Navy and Royal Marines. On the other hand, there is an undoubted
lack of both officers and men even for the manning of the vessels
which are to be commissioned. So great, indeed, is the scarcity of
stokers, seamen-gunners, and signalmen, that only by calling out all
the reserves can even the immediate necessities of the situation be
supplied. It is not certain, however, that the reserves will be of much
use, seeing that the engines of modern men-of-war greatly differ, as a
rule, from those of merchant vessels; that few men of the Royal Naval
Reserve have any practical familiarity with heavy breech-loading guns;
and that hardly any men, outside the service proper, are qualified
as signalmen. There is also a scarcity of lieutenants, and a good
many small craft will, if commissioned at all, apparently have to be
commanded by gunners, carpenters, and boatswains. As for the local
permanent defences, they are very imperfect. Many of the works on the
land side have no guns at all, and the re-arming of Southsea Castle and
the Spithead forts has not yet been completed. War is here regarded
as as good as declared. No one, and least of all naval men, can look
forward to it with anything like light-heartedness, and many Portsmouth
people regard the prospect with distinct apprehension, and propose to
leave the town as soon as they can conveniently do so; yet the naval
and military population here shows an admirable spirit, and numbers of
retired officers of both services are offering their assistance to the
Government.”
[Illustration: “MASTHEAD ELECTRIC LIGHTS OF NOVEL DESIGN ARE BEING
FITTED TO SOME OF THE LARGER BATTLESHIPS.”]
“BRUSSELS, Tuesday, 5.8 p.m.--There are grave reports from the South.
It is said that a conflict of some nature has actually taken place
between the British and French Fleets off Toulon, but no details of any
kind are given. There is also serious news from Paris. A declaration of
war is undoubtedly by this time on its way to London. It was to have
been dispatched at noon. The French capital is violently excited, and
extremely enthusiastic. Very little news reaches this city, and that
little slips through the fingers of very jealous French censors, dozens
of whom must be employed along the frontier.”
“BARCELONA, Tuesday, 5.20 p.m.--The Italian steamer _Monte Pulciano_,
which arrived here this afternoon, reports that very late last night,
when off Toulon, she heard the sound of heavy firing, and saw in the
sky the reflections of what seemed to be explosions on a very large
scale. She did not, however, call at any French port, and so brings no
definite intelligence.”
“GENOA, Tuesday, 6 p.m.--The news of difficulties having suddenly
arisen at Toulon had scarcely reached this place ere rumours began to
arrive to the effect that the French Admiral had received orders from
Paris to destroy the British Fleet in case it should attempt to quit
Toulon Roads. No one credited this report at first, but it must now
be admitted that corroborative evidence of a kind is not lacking. A
correspondent at Hyères telegraphs that much heavy firing took place
late last night off that town, but, apparently, at a great distance
out at sea, and that to-day some French men-of-war, which seemed to
be somewhat damaged, re-entered Toulon. All messages from France
are subjected to strict censorship, in consequence of the strained
relations between that country and Great Britain. Too much reliance
must not, therefore, be placed upon the trustworthiness of this news.”
Then came the most unambiguous telegram of the eventful day.
“DOVER, Tuesday, 6.20 p.m.--A French torpedo boat named the _Lance_
has just entered the harbour under a flag of truce. The lieutenant
in command of her brought dispatches which have already been sent
on by train to the French Ambassador in London. Their purport is,
however, no secret. They contain an announcement to the effect that
the British Admiral having refused to consider the legitimate demand
of the authorities at Toulon for apology and reparation in the
matter of yesterday’s riot, and having, in defiance of French orders
to the contrary, quitted Toulon Roads while the grievances of the
French Government remained unredressed, the French Republic recalls
its Ambassador and declares war against Great Britain. The French
lieutenant, who was of course not allowed to land, departed as soon as
he had communicated with the coastguard boat which went out to meet
him. The civil population is apprehensive lest the town may be shelled
to-night. Steam is being got up to work the turret on the Admiralty
pier; and the men are to sleep beside their guns both there and in the
various batteries on the heights. Stringent measures are to be adopted
to preclude all possibility of a _coup de main_; and no vessels will
in future be allowed to enter or leave the port until they have been
searched. Very few people here are likely to sleep much to-night.
Numbers of nervous folk are going inland without even waiting to pack
up their effects. A large French man-of-war is now visible in the
Strait, but her name is not known. It is hoped that she may be brought
to action by the _Audacious_ from Hull, the _Hotspur_ from Harwich, or
the _Iron Duke_ from the Forth; for all these ships have been ordered
to rendezvous at Spithead, and one or more of them is expected to
pass Dover to-night. Here there is not so much as a gunboat; but it
is believed that, at the latest, by Friday, some of the coast-defence
ironclads will be assembled in the Downs, where, in case of need, they
will be within easy reach of this most important position. No lights
are to be shown to-night, and the windows of even private houses are
ordered to be darkened. Pickets are to go round to enforce this rule.
The town is already, in fact, though not in name, in a state of siege;
and so long as hostilities last, it must be a prey to continual and
very harassing alarms, if to nothing worse.”
A later telegram explained that “the large French man-of-war” which had
excited Dover was only a steam yacht.
[Illustration: “WAS ONLY A STEAM YACHT.”]
These were not the only telegrams that brought the country to a quick
realisation of the fearful suddenness with which she had fallen
into a state of war with her nearest neighbour and most powerful
maritime rival. There were many others, but the effect of all was
the same. They startled England, not only with the definite news of
imminent hostilities, but also with the vague report, which was far
more terrible, that some paralysing blow had already been dealt against
the Power which, for three centuries at least, had prided herself upon
being mistress of the seas. The nature and result of that mysterious
blow were alike unknown; but lack of knowledge, fed by apprehension,
often produces strange popular impressions; and the very absence of
definite news from the Mediterranean Fleet was, at such a juncture,
almost by itself sufficient to create very wild alarm.
The excitement in London increased, therefore, as the day wore on. The
House met early, but the Ministers were able to say little that was
encouraging. They were prepared, in case of necessity, to maintain
the honour of the Sovereign and of the Empire; they had adopted such
measures as prudence and the counsel of the most experienced officers
suggested, and as their immediately available resources rendered
possible; and they were, until late in the afternoon, not altogether
hopeless that peace might still be preserved; but they had only the
most meagre information to give: they were unable to inspire the public
with that confidence which they professed to feel; and worst of all,
they had absolutely no intelligence concerning the Mediterranean Fleet
save that it had left Toulon on Monday night.
In the afternoon crowds gathered in Trafalgar Square and other public
places; and, in spite of the efforts that were made by the police to
disperse the people, addresses--treasonable as well as patriotic--were
delivered by persons who, whether they were loyal or not, would in
the circumstances have more wisely kept their mouths shut. Most of
the theatres opened as usual; and those which opened were thronged,
for the temperament of the population at the moment required that
men should congregate in any place where the latest news was likely
to be obtainable. But no attention seemed anywhere to be paid to the
performance. People loitered in the passages and foyers, and talked
or listened with tongues and ears devoted to one topic only. As the
successive editions of the evening papers came out, copies were brought
in and handed round, and struggled for even by the musicians in the
orchestra. Twenty-four hours previously, war had seemed the most
improbable of catastrophes. It was now practically certain, and what
its end might be no one could foretell. At the Lyceum Theatre “Macbeth”
was being played. Towards the conclusion of the first act the curtain
was suddenly lowered, and the familiar figure of Mr. Irving immediately
appeared before it.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the great actor, who was much moved, “news
of a very grave character has this moment reached the theatre; and I
deem it my duty to interrupt the performance in order to communicate
it to you. I regret to have to say that, according to a telegram
which I hold in my hand, the British Fleet in the Mediterranean
was yesterday attacked by a French Fleet of superior force, and was
very severely handled. There are, unfortunately, no details. I trust
that the news is not really so grave as it at present sounds; but
even if it be untrue that war has actually broken out, and that our
brave bluejackets have already been surprised by anything in the
remotest degree resembling disaster, I feel that I shall only, in the
circumstances, be forestalling your wishes, when I announce that the
performance cannot continue. Ladies and gentlemen, it is not for me,
standing before you in this dress, to say much; but this I must say:
the opportunity seems to have arisen for us to show that we are still
the sons of our fathers. This, you will agree with me, we may do, not
merely by volunteering or otherwise directly contributing towards the
defence of our country; but also by lending a steadfast and loyal moral
support to her most gracious Majesty’s Ministers in this moment of
terrible anxiety and public danger. England, facing her enemies, has
always hitherto been as one man. Let us see to it that she be one man
now. Let us banish all divisions; let us think not of ourselves but of
our country; and, believe me, though the path through this difficulty
may be dark and terrible, we shall emerge into the light.”
The earlier part of this brief address was listened to almost in
silence. The latter part provoked first low expressions of approval
and then cheers. When Mr. Irving had concluded the audience, as
with one accord, stood up bareheaded; and, as the orchestra played
the first note or two of the National Anthem, there began a scene of
indescribably contagious enthusiasm. People leapt upon the seats and
waved hats or handkerchiefs; women burst into tears; and there was a
confused babel of sounds which, in a few moments, blended into the
noble and solemn chorus of “God save the Queen.”