THE DEVIL’S OWN ON THE DEFENSIVE
The acute alarm now felt in Government circles led to a hasty decision
to embody a large auxiliary force of special constables. A source of
much anxiety was found in the rumoured designs of the Leaguers on
certain important buildings connected with the Law. The Temple church,
and the halls and libraries of the Inns of Court, both north and south
of the Strand, were believed to be in jeopardy, and arrangements were
made with the Inns of Court Volunteers to protect the prized and
ancient buildings from attack or incendiarism. Both within and without
the Law Courts a strong force of police was kept on duty day and
night, and London solicitors furnished from among their number a large
contingent of special constables to safeguard the Law Society’s hall
and library in Chancery Lane.
Even these precautions were not such as to satisfy the urgent demands
of the timid “better classes” in London, and a cry was raised for
more troops. At this juncture, however, the Secret Service agents of
the Government were sending in reports that negatived the possibility
of reducing the military strength of outlying districts, and pointed
to the paramount necessity of maintaining efficiency and vigilance
at the naval ports and arsenals. It was beyond question that at this
critical moment of domestic history there was a subtle shifting of
international cards that was fraught with danger to the country. A
revived Russia, it was well known, only waited an opportunity to wound
or humiliate Great Britain. The German Emperor, while adroitly masking
his real attitude, was believed to be anxious to test the metal of his
strengthened navy. Against what country other than Great Britain could
the ceaseless activity in the German dockyards be directed? Armoured
cruisers, of about 15,000 tons; battleships of from 17,000 to 18,000
tons, with armour ever thicker and guns ever more powerful! All this
increased tonnage, sanctioned under the German Navy Act of 1900, meant
an expenditure of something like £800,000 upon a single battleship.
In 1906, £12,000,000 had been expended on Kaiser William’s navy; in
1912, at this rate, German naval expenditure would have climbed to
£16,000,000. And, in the interval, or after, what appalling test of
strength and watchfulness might not be put upon the navy of Great
Britain?
France, though disposed to be friendly, was fettered by treaties with
other Powers; and Japan, whose fleets were no longer confined to
Eastern seas, was by some suspected of having a secret understanding
with Russia, her former enemy, that involved ultimate designs upon
Britain, her present ally. That alliance had not proved so advantageous
to the youngest of the Great Powers as the Mikado’s government
had expected it to be. The shilly-shallying of successive British
ministers had at last disgusted the Japanese. Those hardy, patient, and
self-controlled Eastern islanders, steadily increasing their marvellous
powers, while the islanders of the West were showing marked signs of
physical and moral deterioration, had no intention of submitting to a
one-sided international bargain. Japan knew her own strength on the
high seas, and now prepared to use it ultimately, anywhere and against
all comers for her own advantage. Russia had not forgiven and never
would forgive the disasters and defeats inflicted on her navy and her
troops, but Russian revenge can bide its time. Meanwhile there were
grudges of far older standing against Great Britain, and if, while the
treaty of peace with Japan held good, the Japanese would help the new
Czar to inflict an indirect injury on England, it was fairly certain
that any opportunity would be eagerly seized.
A sinister circumstance, in this connection, was the undoubted fact
that the new navy built or bought by Russia was largely officered by
men who had been trained and instructed by Japanese experts. A few
years before, it would have been deemed inconceivable that a Russian
should have submitted to tutelage from the once despised “little yellow
men.” But the bitter lessons of experience had made their impression
even in Russia. The deep-seated desire for restored prestige and power
outweighed the national pride; and the Japanese, on their part, were
not unwilling to make certain Russian ships and crews efficient for
naval warfare, provided such ships remained thousands of miles from
Japan and her possessions in the East. Thus it had come about, in the
whirligig of time’s revenges, that Japan, which had learnt her naval
lessons from Great Britain, and had splendidly carried them into
practice against Russia, was now supposed to be Russia’s secret guide,
philosopher, and friend in inculcating the art and science of naval
warfare.
These, however, were matters of which the British public in general
had but little knowledge. For them the shoe pinched nearer home. So
dangerous and uncertain were the conditions of life in London, that
hosts of prosperous people, who had returned in the autumn, hoping that
the tyranny would be over, left town again with their families when it
was discovered that the winter months might hold something yet worse in
store. But these departures, numerous as they were, made but a small
gap in the enormous aggregate life of the capital. Scores of thousands,
or hundreds of thousands might go, but millions remained, and must
remain; for here was their lot cast; here in the misery and murk of the
season of fog and slush and drizzle the railroad of life was laid down
for them, and to leave the rails was hopeless and impossible.
With the idea of calming the apprehensions of residents and tradesmen,
and at the same time in the hope of overawing the Leaguers, the civil
and military authorities now organised a patrol of the streets by
bodies of police and special constables. At the same time it was
noticed that musters and marches of the regular troops and volunteers
were of frequent occurrence. It was in connection with the renewed
activity of the “Devil’s Own” that Herrick now had an exciting personal
experience of the perils of the times.
The unexampled slump in legal business had left him, and great numbers
of his brother-barristers, with next to nothing to do. Many of them, in
common with himself, had received threats under the sign of the spider,
but so far there had been no actual fulfilment of the warning. It was
noticeable, however, that fewer men in wig and gown were seen in the
streets in the vicinity of the Law Courts, and those who did wear their
forensic armour were sure to encounter gibes and insults from some
contemptuous tongue. Events were to prove, however, that in the first
place the Leaguers were maturing their plans to fly at higher game than
the ordinary stuff gownsman.
So altered were the relations between himself and Aldwyth Westwood
that Herrick, wisely, perhaps, had deemed it best not to worry her
with continued remonstrances, or requests for explanations. The times
were out of joint, but the shadow could not last for ever, and his
temperament led him to believe that all would yet be well. Meanwhile,
his zeal as a volunteer officer was reawakened by concurrent events,
and the occupation that drills and marches afforded him was very
welcome.
On a memorable afternoon, about a week after the Leaguers’
demonstration at Whitehall, the “Devil’s Own” were mustered for a
march. Groups of officers and men stood talking in Stone Buildings,
Old Court, and New Square, waiting for the complement of rank and file.
The men came in from various directions--some by the archway from
Carey Street, some through the passage at the south-west corner of
New Square, others from the various Chancery Lane approaches. Herrick
himself turned in at the large west gateway. Thus it was that he
noticed that a muster of another character was at the same time taking
place in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, probably as preliminary to another and
formidable street demonstration on the part of the Leaguers.
Herrick immediately made a report to his commanding officer, and from
observations then taken it was seen that the Leaguers were assembling
rapidly and in great force. They, on their part, noted the muster of
the volunteers, and presently sundry jeers and insults were shouted
at the citizen soldiers. Groups of men, who were seen to be wearing
the metal disc, gathered close to the open gates and watched the
formation of the battalion. The possibility of a collision at once
became apparent, for it was intended to march the volunteers through
Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and, _via_ Long Acre, to the West End. There
was no other exit from the Inn suitable for marching order in the
intended direction; and, on the other hand, it was pretty obvious
that to cross Lincoln’s Inn Fields would certainly involve a collision
with the Leaguers, whose numbers already largely exceeded those of
the battalion. The disc-men, growing more aggressive, now showed
a disposition to enter New Square itself, and a hasty council of
officers was held, and the order given to close the gates. Instantly
angry groans were raised by the Leaguers, and a shrill voice yelled:
“Down with the lawyers!” At the same time a rush was made for the
wall separating the gardens from the east side of the Fields, and,
with no great difficulty, large numbers of the Leaguers clambered to
the top and descended on the other side. In this way the flank of the
battalion was menaced by a gathering mob. In effect, it looked as if
the volunteers were now on the defensive, and derisive laughter greeted
the hurried orders of the officers.
Mortified and puzzled at this development, the colonel decided to march
immediately. As soon as this was realised, a crash of timber was heard,
and it became known that the Leaguers were tearing down the hoarding
that enclosed the foundations of an extension of the Land Registry
buildings close at hand. The levelled hoarding at once exposed to view
great balks of timber, ladders, and stacks of pickaxes and shovels. It
was an unexpected armoury, ready to hand, and the Leaguers immediately
availed themselves of its resources. Several heavy pieces of timber
and ladders were now dragged towards the Lincoln’s Inn archway,
triumphant and excited cries bursting from the mob. The next moment
these improvised battering-rams were brought to bear with terrific
violence upon the gates and brickwork. The unarmed contingent that had
scrambled into the gardens urged on their comrades with wild applause,
and hurled defiance at the humiliated battalion. “Rats! Rats in a trap!
Down with the lawyers!” burst hoarsely from a thousand throats. The
colonel turned pale as death, and his horse, terrified by the uproar,
plunged dangerously in proximity to his men. Above the din, the order,
“Open the gates!” was shouted. But, before it could be obeyed one of
them came crashing to the ground. The other was torn aside, and the
Leaguers and the “Devil’s Own” stood face to face. There was a pause.
Then, hurtling through the air, came a pavior’s rammer, followed by a
stonecutter’s mallet, and two privates with anguished faces limped out
of the ranks of the volunteers. At the same instant the growing force
of Leaguers on the flank made a determined effort to tear up the iron
railings bordering the grass.
“Fix bayonets!” roared the colonel angrily. A howl of rage went up
from the Leaguers; then, suddenly, as if at the crack of doom, every
voice was silenced, every face was blanched. The thunder of a great
explosion filled the air, followed by crash on crash, and multitudinous
reverberations.