A PROPHECY FULFILLED
This authentic news of the position of the enemy, combined with the
vague rumours of other landings at Yarmouth, along the coast at some
unknown point north of Cromer, at King’s Lynn, and other places,
produced an enormous sensation in London, while the Central News
interview, circulated to all the papers in the Midlands and Lancashire,
increased the panic in the manufacturing districts.
The special edition of the _Evening News_, issued about six o’clock on
Tuesday evening, contained another remarkable story which threw some
further light upon the German movements. It was, of course, known that
practically the whole of the Norfolk and Suffolk coast was already held
by the enemy, but with the exception of the fact that the enemy’s
cavalry vedettes and reconnoitring patrols were out everywhere at a
distance about twenty miles from the shore, England was entirely in the
dark as to what had occurred anywhere else but at Lowestoft. Attempts
similar to that of the Ipswich cyclist volunteers had been made to
penetrate the cavalry screen at various points, but in vain. What was in
progress was carefully kept a secret by the enemy. The veil was,
however, now lifted. The story which the _Evening News_ had obtained
exclusively, and which was eagerly read everywhere, had been related by
a man named Scotney, a lobster-fisherman, of Sheringham, in Norfolk, who
had made the following statement to the chief officer of coastguard at
Wainfleet, in Lincolnshire:--
“Just before dawn on Sunday morning I was in the boat with my son
Ted off the Robin Friend taking up the lobster pots, when we
suddenly saw about three miles offshore a mixed lot of
curious-looking craft strung out right across the horizon, and
heading apparently for Cromer. There were steamers big and little,
many of them towing queer flat-bottomed kind of boats, lighters,
and barges, which, on approaching nearer, we could distinctly see
were filled to their utmost capacity with men and horses.
“Both Ted and I stood staring at the unusual sight, wondering
whatever it meant. They came on very quickly, however--so quickly,
indeed, that we thought it best to move on. The biggest ships went
along to Weybourne Gap, where they moored in the twenty-five feet
of water that runs in close to the shore, while some smaller
steamers and the flats were run up high and dry on the hard
shingle. Before this I noticed that there were quite a number of
foreign warships in the offing, with several destroyers far away in
the distance, both to east and west.
“From the larger steamships all sorts of boats were lowered,
including apparently many collapsible whale-boats, and into these
in a most orderly manner, from every gangway and
accommodation-ladder, troops--Germans we afterwards discovered them
to be to our utter astonishment--began to descend.
“These boats were at once taken charge of by steam pinnaces and
cutters and towed to the beach. When we saw this we were utterly
dumbfounded. Indeed, at first I believed it to be a dream, for ever
since I was a lad I had heard the ancient rhyme my old father was
so fond of repeating:
“‘_He who would old England win,_
_Must at Weybourne Hoop begin._’
“As everybody knows, nature has provided at that lonely spot every
advantage for the landing of hostile forces, and when the Spanish
Armada was expected, and again when Napoleon threatened an
invasion, the place was constantly watched. Yet nowadays, except
for the coastguard, it has been utterly unprotected and neglected.
“The very first soldiers who landed formed up quickly, and under
the charge of an officer ran up the low hill to the coastguard
station, I suppose in order to prevent them signalling a warning.
The funny thing was, however, that the coastguards had already been
held up by several well-dressed men--spies of the Germans, I
suppose. I could distinctly see one man holding one of the guards
with his back to the wall, and threatening him with a revolver.
“Ted and I had somehow been surrounded by the crowd of odd craft
which dodged about everywhere, and the foreigners now and then
shouted to me words that unfortunately I could not understand.
“Meanwhile, from all the boats strung out along the beach, from
Sheringham right across to the Rocket House at Salthouse, swarms of
drab-coated soldiers were disembarking, the boats immediately
returning to the steamers for more. They must have been packed as
tightly as herrings in a barrel; but they all seemed to know where
to go to, because all along at various places little flags were
held by men, and each regiment appeared to march across and
assemble at its own flag.
“Ted and I sat there as if we were watching a play. Suddenly we saw
from some of the ships and bigger barges, horses being lowered into
the water and allowed to swim ashore. Hundreds seemed to gain the
beach even as we were looking at them. Then, after the first lot of
horses had gone, boats full of saddles followed them. It seemed as
though the foreigners were too busy to notice us, and we--not
wanting to share the fate of Mr. Gunter, the coastguard, and his
mates--just sat tight and watched.
“From the steamers there continued to pour hundreds upon hundreds
of soldiers who were towed to land, and then formed up in solid
squares, which got bigger and bigger. Horses innumerable--quite a
thousand I should reckon--were slung overboard from some of the
smaller steamers which had been run high and dry on the beach, and
as the tide had now begun to run down they landed only knee-deep in
water. Those steamers, it seemed to me, had big bilge keels, for as
the tide ebbed they did not heel over. They had, no doubt, been
specially fitted for the purpose. Out of some they began to hoist
all sorts of things, wagons, guns, motor-cars, large bales of
fodder, clothing, ambulances with big red crosses on them,
flat-looking boats--pontoons I think they call them--and great
piles of cooking pots and pans, square boxes of stores, or perhaps
ammunition, and as soon as anything was landed it was hauled up
above high-water mark.
“In the meantime lots of men had mounted on horseback and ridden
off up the lane which leads into Weybourne village. At first half a
dozen started at a time; then, as far as I could judge, about fifty
more started. Then larger bodies went forward, but more and more
horses kept going ashore, as though their number was never-ending.
They must have been stowed mighty close, and many of the ships must
have been specially fitted up for them.
“Very soon I saw cavalry swarming up over Muckleburgh, Warborough,
and Telegraph Hills, while a good many trotted away in the
direction of Runton and Sheringham. Then, soon after they had
gone--that is, in about an hour and a half from their first
arrival--the infantry began to move off, and as far as I could see,
they marched inland by every road, some in the direction of Kelling
Street and Holt, others over Weybourne Heath towards Bodham, and
still others skirting the woods over to Upper Sheringham. Large
masses of infantry marched along the Sheringham Road, and seemed to
have a lot of officers on horseback with them, while up on
Muckleburgh Hill I saw frantic signalling in progress.
“By this time they had a quantity of carts and wagons landed, and a
large number of motor-cars. The latter were soon started, and,
manned by infantry, moved swiftly in procession after the troops.
The great idea of the Germans was apparently to get the beach clear
of everything as soon as landed, for all stores, equipment, and
other tackle were pushed inland as soon as disembarked.
“The enemy kept on landing. Thousands of soldiers got ashore
without any check, and all proceeding orderly and without the
slightest confusion, as though the plans were absolutely perfect.
Everybody seemed to know exactly what to do. From where we were we
could see the coastguards held prisoners in their station, with
German sentries mounted around; and as the tide was now setting
strong to the westward, Ted and I first let our anchor off the
ground and allowed ourselves to drift. It occurred to me that
perhaps I might be able to give the alarm at some other coastguard
station if I could only drift away unnoticed in the busy scene now
in progress.
“That the Germans had actually landed in England was now apparent;
yet we wondered what our own fleet could be doing, and pictured to
ourselves the jolly good drubbing that our cruisers would give the
audacious foreigner when they did haul in sight. It was for us, at
all costs, to give the alarm, so gradually we drifted off to the
nor’-westward, in fear every moment lest we should be noticed and
fired at. At last we got around Blakeney Point successfully, and
breathed more freely; then hoisting our sail, we headed for
Hunstanton, but seeing numbers of ships entering the Wash, and
believing them to be also Germans, we put our helm down and ran
across into Wainfleet Swatchway to Gibraltar Point, where I saw the
chief officer of coastguard, and told him all the extraordinary
events of that memorable morning.”
The report added that the officer of coastguard in question had, three
hours before, noticed strange vessels coming up the Wash, and had
already tried to report by telegraph to his divisional inspecting
officer at Harwich, but could obtain no communication. An hour later,
however, it had become apparent that a still further landing was being
effected on the south side of the Wash, in all probability at King’s
Lynn.
The fisherman Scotney’s statement had been sent by special messenger
from Wainfleet on Sunday evening, but owing to the dislocation of the
railway traffic north of London, the messenger was unable to reach the
offices of the coastguard in Victoria Street, Westminster, until Monday.
The report received by the Admiralty had been treated as confidential
until corroborated, lest undue public alarm should be caused.
It had then been given to the Press as revealing the truth of what had
actually happened.
The enemy had entered by the back door of England, and the sensation it
caused everywhere was little short of panic.
Some further very valuable information was also received by the
Intelligence Department of the War Office, revealing the military
position of the invaders who had landed at Weybourne Hoop.
It appears that Colonel Charles Macdonald, a retired officer of the
Black Watch, who lived in the “Boulevard” at Sheringham, making up his
mind to take the risk, had carefully noted all that was in progress
during the landing, had drawn up a clear description of it, and had,
after some narrow escapes, succeeded in getting through the German lines
to Melton Constable, and thence to London. He had, before his
retirement, served as military attaché at Berlin, and, being thoroughly
acquainted with the appearance of German uniforms, was able to include
in his report even the names of the regiments, and in some cases their
commanders.
From his observations it was plain that the whole of the IVth German
Army Corps, about 38,000 men, had been landed at Weybourne, Sheringham,
and Cromer. It consisted of the 7th and 8th Divisions complete,
commanded respectively by Major-General Dickmann and Lieutenant-General
von Mirbach. The 7th Division comprised the 13th and 14th Infantry
Brigades, consisting of Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Dessau’s 1st Magdeburg
Regiment, the 3rd Magdeburg Infantry Regiment, Prince Louis Ferdinand
von Preussen’s 2nd Magdeburg Regiment, and the 5th Hanover Infantry
Regiment. Attached to this division were the Magdeburg Hussars No. 10,
and the Uhlan Regiment of Altmärk No. 16.
In the 8th Division were the 15th and 16th Brigades, comprising a
Magdeburg Fusilier Regiment, an Anhalt Infantry Regiment, the 4th and
8th Thuringen Infantry, with the Magdeburg Cuirassiers, and a regiment
of Thuringen Hussars. The cavalry were commanded by Colonel Frölich,
while General von Kleppen was in supreme command of the whole corps.
Careful reconnaissance of the occupied area showed that immediately on
landing, the German position extended from the little town of Holt, on
the west, eastward, along the main Cromer Road, as far as Gibbet Lane,
slightly south of Cromer, a distance of about five miles. This
constituted a naturally strong position; indeed, nature seemed to have
provided it specially to suit the necessities of a foreign invader. The
ground for miles to the south sloped gently away down to the plain,
while the rear was completely protected, so that the landing could
proceed until every detail had been completed.
Artillery were massed on both flanks, namely, at Holt and on the high
ground near Felbrigg, immediately south of Cromer. This last-named
artillery was adequately supported by the detached infantry close at
hand. The whole force was covered by a strong line of outposts. Their
advanced sentries were to be found along a line starting from Thornage
village, through Hunworth, Edgefield, Barningham Green, Squallham,
Aldborough, Hanworth, to Roughton. In rear of them lay their picquets,
which were disposed in advantageous situations. The general line of
these latter were at North Street, Pondhills to Plumstead, thence over
to Matlash Hall, Aldborough Hall, and the rising ground north of
Hanworth. These, in their turn, were adequately supplemented by the
supports, which were near Hempstead Green, Baconsthorpe, North
Narningham, Bessingham, Sustead, and Melton.
In case of sudden attack, reserves were at Bodham, West Beckham, East
Beckham, and Aylmerton, but orders had been issued by Von Kleppen, who
had established his headquarters at Upper Sheringham, that the line of
resistance was to be as already indicated--namely, that having the
Holt-Cromer Road for its crest. Cuirassiers, hussars, and some
motorists--commanded by Colonel von Dorndorf--were acting independently
some fifteen miles to the south, scouring the whole country, terrifying
the villagers, commandeering all supplies, and posting Von Kronhelm’s
proclamation, which has already been reproduced.
From Colonel Macdonald’s inquiries it was shown that on the night of the
invasion six men, now known to have been advance agents of the enemy,
arrived at the Ship Inn, at Weybourne. Three of them took accommodation
for the night, while their companions slept elsewhere. At two o’clock
the trio let themselves out quietly, were joined by six other men, and
just as the enemy’s ships hove in sight nine of them seized the
coastguards and cut the wires, while the other three broke into the
Weybourne Stores, and, drawing revolvers, obtained possession of the
telegraph instrument to Sheringham and Cromer until they could hand it
over to the Germans.
The panic in both Sheringham and Cromer when the astounded populace
found the enemy billeted on them was intense. There were still many
holiday-makers in the Grand and Burlington Hotels in Sheringham, as also
in the Metropole, Grand, and Paris at Cromer, and these, on that
memorable Sunday morning, experienced a rude awakening from their
slumbers.
At Cromer the enemy, as soon as they landed, took possession of the post
office, commandeered all the stores at shops, including the West-End
Supply Stores and Rust’s; occupied the railway station on the hill, with
all its coal and rolling stock, and made prisoners of the coastguards,
the four wires, as at Weybourne, having already been cut by advance
agents, who had likewise seized the post office wires. A German naval
party occupied the coastguard station, and hoisting the German flag at
the peak of the staff in place of the white ensign, began to make rapid
signals with the semaphore and their own coloured bunting instead of our
coastguard flags.
In the clean, red-brick little town of Sheringham all the grocers and
provision-dealers were given notice not to sell food to anyone, as it
was now in possession of the invaders, while a number of motor-cars
belonging to private persons were seized. Every lodging-house, every
hotel, and every boarding-house was quickly crowded by the German
officers, who remained to superintend the landing. Many machine guns
were landed on the pier at Cromer, while the heavier ordnance were
brought ashore at the gap and hauled up the fishermen’s slope.
Colonel Macdonald, who had carefully marked a cycling road-map of the
district with his observations driving in his own dog-cart from one
point to the other, met with a number of exciting adventures.
While in Holt on Monday evening--after a long day of constant
observation--he suddenly came face to face with Colonel Frölich,
commanding the enemy’s cavalry brigade, and was recognised. Frölich had
been aide-de-camp to the Emperor at the time when Macdonald was attaché
at the British Embassy, and both men were intimate friends.
They stopped and spoke, Frölich expressing surprise and also regret that
they should meet as enemies after their long friendship. Macdonald,
annoyed at being thus recognised, took the matter philosophically as the
fortunes of war, and learnt from his whilom friend a number of valuable
details regarding the German position.
The retired attaché, however, pushed his inquiries rather too far, and
unfortunately aroused the suspicions of the German cavalry commander,
with the result that the Englishman’s movements were afterwards very
closely watched. He then found himself unable to make any further
reconnaisance, and was compelled to hide his map under a heap of stones
near the Thornage Road, and there leave it for some hours, fearing lest
he should be searched and the incriminating plan found upon him.
[Illustration: POSITION OF THE IVTH GERMAN ARMY CORPS TWELVE HOURS AFTER
LANDING AT WEYBOURNE, NORFOLK
GEORGE PHILIP & SON L^{TD}.]
At night, however, he returned cautiously to the spot, regained
possession of his treasure, and abandoning his dog-cart and horse in a
by-road near North Barningham, succeeded in getting over to Edgefield.
Here, however, he was discovered and challenged by the sentries. He
succeeded, nevertheless, in convincing them that he was not endeavouring
to escape; otherwise he would undoubtedly have been shot there and then,
as quite a dozen unfortunate persons had been at various points along
the German line.
To obtain information of the enemy’s position this brave old officer had
risked his life, yet concealed in his golf-cap was the map which would
condemn him as a spy. He knew the peril, but faced it boldly, as an
English soldier should face it.
His meeting with Frölich had been most unfortunate, for he knew that he
was now a marked man.
At first the sentries disbelieved him, but, speaking German fluently, he
argued with them, and was at last allowed to go free. His one object was
to get the map into the hands of the Intelligence Department, but the
difficulties were, he soon saw, almost insurmountable. Picquets and
sentries held every road and every bridge, while the railway line
between Fakenham and Aylsham had been destroyed in several places, as
well as that between Melton Constable and Norwich.
Through the whole night he wandered on, hoping to find some weak point
in the cordon about Weybourne, but in vain. The Germans were everywhere
keeping a sharp vigil to prevent anyone getting out with information,
and taking prisoners all upon whom rested the slightest suspicion.
Near dawn, however, he found his opportunity, for at the junction of the
three roads near the little hamlet of Stody, a mile south of Hunworth,
he came upon a sleeping Uhlan, whose companions had evidently gone
forward into Briningham village. The horse was grazing quietly at the
roadside, and the man, tired out, lay stretched upon the bank, his
helmet by his side, his sabre still at his belt.
Macdonald crept up slowly. If the man woke and discovered him he would
be again challenged. Should he take the man’s big revolver and shoot him
as he lay?
No. That was a coward’s action, an unjustifiable murder, he decided.
He would take the horse, and risk it by making a dash for life.
Therefore, on tiptoe he crept up, passing the prostrate man, till he
approached the horse, and in a second, old though he was, he was
nevertheless in the saddle. But none too soon. The jingle of the bit
awakened the Uhlan suddenly, and he sprang up in time to see the
stranger mount.
In an instant he took in the situation, and before the colonel could
settle himself in the saddle he raised his revolver and fired.
The ball struck the colonel in the left shoulder, shattering it, but the
gallant man who was risking his life for his country only winced, cursed
his luck beneath his breath, set his teeth, and with the blood pouring
from the wound, made a dash for life, and succeeded in getting clean
away ere the alarm could be raised.
Twelve hours later the valuable information the colonel had so valiantly
gained at such risk was in the hands of the Intelligence Department at
Whitehall, and had been transmitted back to Norwich and Colchester.
That the Fourth German Army Corps were in a position as strong as those
who had landed at Lowestoft could not be denied, and the military
authorities could not disguise from themselves the extreme gravity of
the situation.