The Invasion of 1910
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Unless the scheme of von Bistram, the German generalissimo in the North, was ill-conceived, then it was plain, even to the defenders, that Sheffield must eventually give way before the overpowering force opposed to it.
Within the city of Sheffield the excitement now rose to fever-heat.
It was known that the enemy had closed in upon the defences, and were now across the river, ready at any moment to continue their advance, which, as a matter of fact, had developed steadily without intermission, notwithstanding the heroic efforts of the defenders.
In these days of smokeless powder it was hard for the Germans to see where the British lines of defence were actually located, but the heavy pounding of the artillery duel, which had been going on since early morning, was now beginning to weaken as the German infantry, company by company, regiment by regiment, and brigade by brigade, were calmly launched to the attack. They were themselves masking the fire of the cannon of their own comrades as, by desperate rushes, they gradually ascended the slopes before them.
The objective of the VIIth Corps seemed to be the strongpoint which has already been referred to as dominating the position a little west of Catcliffe, and the VIIIth Corps were clearly directing their energies on the salient angle of the defence which was to be found a little south of Woodhouse. From this latter point the general line of the British position from Woodhouse north to Tinsley would then be turned.
The British stood their ground with the fearless valour of Englishmen. Though effective defence seemed from the very first futile, steady and unshaken volleys rang out from every knoll, hillock, and shelter-trench in that long line manned by the sturdy Yorkshire heroes. Machine-guns rattled and spat fire, and pom-poms worked with regularity, hurling their little shells in a ceaseless stream into the invaders, but all, alas! to no purpose. Where one German fell, at least three appeared to take his place. The enemy seemed to rise from the very ground. The more stubborn the defence, the more numerous the Germans seemed to become, gaps in their fighting line being reinforced in that ruthless manner which is such a well-known principle in German tactics – namely, that the commander must not be sparing in his men, but fling forward reinforcements at whatever cost.
Thus up the storm-swept glacis reaching from the Rother struggled thousands of Germans in a tide that could not be stemmed, halting and firing as they advanced, until it became clear that an actual hand-to-hand combat was imminent.
The British had done all that men could. There was no question of surrender. They were simply swept away as straws before a storm. Dead and dying were on every hand, ambulances were full, and groaning men were being carried by hundreds to the rear. General Woolmer saw that the day was lost, and at last, with choking emotion, he was compelled to give that order which no officer can ever give unless to save useless bloodshed – “Retire! – Retire upon Sheffield itself!”
Bugles rang out, and the whistles of the officers pierced the air. Then in as orderly a manner as was possible in the circumstances, and amid the victorious shouts from thousands of German throats, the struggling units fell back upon the city.
The outlook was surely black enough. Worse was, however, yet to follow. In the line of retreat all roads were blocked with endless masses of wagons and ambulances, and in order to fall back at all men had to take to the open fields and clamber over hedges, so that all semblance of order was very quickly lost.
Thus the retreat became little short of a rout.
Presently a shout rang out. “The cavalry! The cavalry!”
And then was seen a swarm of big Uhlans riding down from the north at a hand-gallop, evidently prepared to cut off the routed army.
By Tinsley Park a body of Volunteers were retreating in an orderly manner, when the alarm of the cavalry advance reached their ears. Their colonel, a red-faced, bearded old gentleman, wearing the green ribbon of the V.D., and who in private life was a brewery’s manager at Tadcaster, rose in his stirrups and, turning round towards the croup of his somewhat weedy steed, ejaculated the words in a hoarse and raucous bellow: “Soaky Poo!”
His men wondered what he meant. Some halted, believing it to be a new order which demanded further attention, until a smart young subaltern, smiling behind his hand, shouted out, “Sauve qui peut – Every man for himself!”
And at this there was a helter-skelter flight on the part of the whole battalion.
The Uhlans, however, were not to be denied, and, circling round through Attercliffe, and thence south towards Richmond Park, they effectively placed themselves across the line of retreat of many of the fugitives.
The latter practically ran straight into the lines of the Germans, who called to them to lay down their arms, and in half an hour along the cordon over two thousand five hundred British of all arms found themselves prisoners in the hands of Von Landsberg, upon whose brigade the brunt of this attack had fallen.
General von Wedel, of the 14th Cavalry Brigade, was not inactive. He pursued the flying columns along all the roads and country north-east of the city. From the south came news of the cavalry of the VIIIth Corps, which had circled through Dronfield, Woodhouse, Totley, along Abbey Dale, till they made an unresisted entry into Sheffield from the south.
Within the town it was quickly seen that the day was lost. All resistance had been beaten down by the victorious invaders, and now, at the Town Hall, the British flag was hauled down, and the German ensign replaced it. From every street leading out of the city to the west poured a flying mob of disorganised British troops, evidently bent upon making the best of their way into the hilly district of the Peak of Derbyshire, where, in the course of time, they might hope to reorganise and re-establish themselves.
The German pursuit, although very strenuous on the part of the cavalry as far as effecting the occupation of the city was concerned, did not extend very much beyond it. Clearly the invaders did not want to be burdened with a large number of British prisoners whom they had no means of interning, and whom it would be difficult to place on parole. What they wanted was to strike terror in the great cities of the north.
Sheffield was now theirs. Nearly all the ammunition and stores of the defenders had fallen into their hands, and they were enabled to view, with apparent equanimity, the spectacle of retreating masses of British infantry, yeomanry, and artillery. Westwards along the network of roads leading in the direction of the High Peak, Derwent Dale, Bradfield, Buxton, and on to Glossop, the British were fast retreating, evidently making Manchester their objective.
Sheffield was utterly dumbfounded. The barricades had been broken down and swept away. The troops, of whom they had hoped so much, had been simply swept away, and now the streets were full of burly foreigners. George Street swarmed with Westphalian infantry and men of Lorraine; in Church Street a squadron of Uhlans were drawn up opposite the Sheffield and Hallamshire Bank, while the sidewalk was occupied by piled arms of the 39th Fusilier Regiment. In the space around the Town Hall the 6th Infantry Regiment of the Rhine and a regiment of Cuirassiers were standing at ease. Many of the stalwart sons of the Fatherland were seen to light their pipes and stolidly enjoy a smoke, while officers in small groups stood here and there discussing the events of the victorious day.
The saddest scenes were to be witnessed at the Royal Infirmary, in Infirmary Road, at the Royal Hospital in West Street, and even in some of the vacant wards in the Jessop Hospital for Women in Victoria Street, which had to be requisitioned for the accommodation of the crowds of wounded of both nations, so constantly being brought in by carts, carriages, motor-cars, and even cabs.
The St. John’s Ambulance Brigade, with many ladies, were doing all they could to render aid, while the Queen Victoria Jubilee Institute for Nurses was called upon for all available help. Every place where sick could be accommodated, including the well-known George Woofindin Convalescent Home, was crowded to overflowing with sufferers, while every doctor in Sheffield bore his part in unceasing surgical work. But the number of dead on both sides it was impossible to estimate.
At the Town Hall the Lord Mayor, aldermen, and councillors assembled, and met the German General, who sternly and abruptly demanded the payment of half a million pounds sterling in gold as an indemnity, together with the production of all stores that the German Army should require in order that they could re-victual.
In reply the Lord Mayor, after consulting with the Council, stated that he would call a meeting of all bank managers and heads of the great manufacturing firms in order that the demand might be, as far as possible, complied with. This answer was promised at five p.m.
Meanwhile, on the notice-board outside the Town Hall, a proclamation was affixed by the Chief of the German Staff, a sentry being posted on either side of it to prevent it being torn down.
Copies were sent to the offices of the local newspapers, and within half an hour its tenor was known in every part of the city. Throughout the night German cavalry patrolled all the main streets, most of the infantry being now reassembled into their brigades, divisions, and army corps on the southern outskirts of the city, and in Norton, Coal Aston, Dronfield, and Whittington were being established the headquarters of the four different divisions of which the VII. and VIII. Corps respectively were composed.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE FEELING IN LONDON
Reports from Sheffield stated that on Sunday the gallant defence of the town by General Sir George Woolmer had been broken. We had suffered a terrible reverse. The British were in full flight, and the two victorious Corps now had the way open to advance to the metropolis of the Midlands, for they knew that they had left behind them only a shattered remnant of what the day before had been the British Army of the North.
In both Houses of Parliament, hastily summoned, there had been memorable scenes. In the Commons, the Government had endeavoured to justify its suicidal actions of the past, but such speeches were howled down, and even the Government organs themselves were now compelled to admit that the party had committed very grave errors of judgment.
Each night the House had sat until early morning, every member who had been in England on the previous Sunday being in his place. In response to the ever-repeated questions put to the War Minister, the reply was each day the same. All that could be done was being done.
Was there any hope of victory? That was the question eagerly asked on every hand – both in Parliament and out of it. At present there seemed none. Reports from the theatres of war in different parts of the country reaching the House each hour were ever the same – the British driven back by the enemy’s overwhelming numbers.
The outlook was indeed a black one. The lobby was ever crowded by members eagerly discussing the situation. The enemy were at the gates of London. What was to be done?
In the House on Friday, September 7, in view of the fact that London was undoubtedly the objective of the enemy, it was decided that Parliament should, on the following day, be transferred to Bristol, and there meet in the great Colston Hall. This change had actually been effected, and the whole of both Houses, with their staff, were hurriedly transferred to the west, the Great Western Railway system being still intact.
The riff-raff from Whitechapel, those aliens whom we had so long welcomed and pampered in our midst – Russians, Poles, Austrians, Swedes, and even Germans – the latter, of course, now declared themselves to be Russians – had swarmed westward in lawless, hungry multitudes, and on Monday afternoon serious rioting occurred in Grosvenor Square and the neighbourhood, and also in Park Lane, where several houses were entered and pillaged by the alien mobs.
The disorder commenced at a great mass meeting held in the Park, just behind the Marble Arch. Orators were denouncing the Government and abusing the Ministers in unmeasured terms, when someone, seeing the many aliens around, set up the cry that they were German spies. A free fight at once ensued, with the result that the mob, uncontrolled by the police, dashed across into Park Lane and wrecked three of the largest houses – one of which was deliberately set on fire by a can of petrol brought from a neighbouring garage. Other houses in Grosvenor Square shared the same fate.
In every quarter of London shops containing groceries, provisions, or flour were broken open by the lawless bands and sacked. From Kingsland and Hoxton, Lambeth and Camberwell, Notting Dale and Chelsea, reports received by the police showed that the people were now becoming desperate. Not only were the aliens lawless, but the London unemployed and lower classes were now raising their voices. “Stop the war! Stop the war!” was the cry heard on every hand. Nearly all the shops containing provisions in Whitechapel Road, Commercial Road East, and Cable Street were, during Monday, ruthlessly broken open and ransacked. The police from Leman Street were utterly incompetent to hold back the rush of the infuriated thousands, who fought desperately with each other for the spoils, starving men, women, and children all joining in the fray.
The East End had indeed become utterly lawless. The big warehouses in the vicinity of the docks were also attacked and most of them emptied of their contents, while two at Wapping, being defended by the police, were deliberately set on fire by the rioters, and quantities of wheat burned.
Fierce men formed themselves into raiding bands and went westward that night, committing all sorts of depredations. The enemy were upon them, and they did not mean to starve, they declared. Southwark and Bermondsey, Walworth and Kennington had remained quiet and watchful all the week, but now, when the report spread of this latest disaster to our troops at Sheffield, and that the Germans were already approaching London, the whole populace arose, and the shopbreaking, once started in the Walworth and Old Kent Roads, spread everywhere throughout the whole of South London.
In vain did the police good-humouredly cry to them to remain patient; in vain did the Lord Mayor address the multitude from the steps of the Royal Exchange; in vain did the newspapers, inspired from headquarters, with one accord urge the public to remain calm, and allow the authorities to direct their whole attention towards repelling the invaders. It was all useless. The public had made up its mind.
At last the bitter truth was being forced home upon the public, and in every quarter of the metropolis those very speakers who, only a couple of years before, were crying down the naval and military critics who had dared to raise their voices in alarm, were now admitting that the country should have listened and heeded.
London, it was plain, had already abandoned hope. The British successes had been so slight. The command of the sea was still in German hands, although in the House the Admiralty had reassured the country that in a few days we should regain the supremacy.
A few days! In a few days London might be invested by the enemy, and then would begin a reign of terror unequalled by any in the history of the civilised world.
By day the streets of the city presented a scene of turmoil and activity, for it seemed as though City workers clung to their old habit of going there each morning, even though their workshops, offices, and warehouses were closed. By night the West End, Pall Mall, Piccadilly, Oxford Street, Regent Street, Portland Place, Leicester Square, Whitehall, Victoria Street, and around Victoria Station were filled with idle, excited crowds of men, women, and children, hungry, despairing, wondering.
At every corner men and boys shouted the latest editions of the newspapers. “ ’Nother great Battle! ’Nother British Defeat! Fall of Sheffield!” rose above the excited chatter of the multitude. The cries fell upon the ears of defenceless Londoners, darkening the outlook as hour after hour wore on.
The heat was stifling, the dust suffocating, now that the roads were no longer cleaned. The theatres were closed. Only the churches and chapels remained open – and the public-houses, crowded to overflowing. In Westminster Abbey, in St. Paul’s Cathedral, in St. Martin’s-in-the-Fields, and in Westminster Cathedral special prayers were that night being offered for the success of the British arms. The services were crowded by all sorts and conditions of persons, from the poor, pinched woman in a shawl from a Westminster slum, to the lady of title who ventured out in her electric brougham. Men from the clubs stood next half-starved working men, and more than one of the more fortunate slipped money unseen into the hand of his less-favoured brother in adversity.
War is a great leveller. The wealthy classes were, in proportion, losing as much as the workers. It was only the grip of hunger that they did not feel, only the cry of starving children that did not reach their ears. For the rest, their interests were equal.
Meanwhile, from every hand rose the strident cries of the newsboys:
“ ‘Nother great Battle! British routed at Sheffield! Extrur spe-shall! – spe’shall!”
British routed! It had been the same ominous cry the whole week through.
Was London really doomed?
BOOK II
THE SIEGE OF LONDON
CHAPTER I
THE LINES OF LONDON
The German successes were continued in the North and Midlands, and notwithstanding the gallant defence of Sir George Woolmer before Manchester and Sir Henry Hibbard before Birmingham, both cities were captured and occupied by the enemy after terrible losses. London, however, was the chief objective of Von Kronhelm, and towards the Metropolis he now turned his attention.
After the defeat of the British at Chelmsford on that fateful Wednesday Lord Byfield decided to evacuate his position at Royston and fall back on the northern section of the London defence line, which had been under construction for the last ten days. These hasty entrenchments, which would have been impossible to construct but for the ready assistance of thousands of all classes of the citizens of London and the suburbs, extended from Tilbury on the east to Bushey on the west, passing by the Laindon Hills, Brentwood, Kelvedon, North Weald, Epping, Waltham Abbey, Cheshunt, Enfield Chase, Chipping Barnet, and Elstree. They were more or less continuous, consisting for the most part of trenches for infantry, generally following the lines of existing hedgerows or banks, which often required but little improvement to transform them into well-protected and formidable cover for the defending troops. Where it was necessary to cross open ground they were dug deep and winding, after the fashion adopted by the Boers in the South African War, so that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to enfilade them.
Special bomb-proof covers for the local reserves were also constructed at various points, and the ground in front ruthlessly cleared of houses, barns, trees, hedges, and everything that might afford shelter to an advancing enemy. Every possible military obstacle was placed in front of the lines that time permitted, abattis, military pits, wire entanglements, and small ground mines. At the more important points along the fifty miles of entrenchments field-works and redoubts for infantry and guns were built, most of them being armed with 4.7 or even 6 and 7.5 in. guns, which had been brought from Woolwich, Chatham, Portsmouth, and Devonport, and mounted on whatever carriages could be adapted or improvised for the occasion.
The preparation of the London lines was a stupendous undertaking, but the growing scarceness and dearness of provisions assisted in a degree, as no free rations were issued to any able-bodied man unless he went out to work at the fortifications. All workers were placed under military law. There were any number of willing workers who proffered their services in this time of peril. Thousands of men came forward asking to be enlisted and armed. The difficulty was to find enough weapons and ammunition for them, to say nothing of the question of uniform and equipment, which loomed very large indeed. The attitude of the Germans, as set forth in Von Kronhelm’s proclamations, precluded the employment of fighting men dressed in civilian garb, and their attitude was a perfectly natural and justifiable one by all the laws and customs of war.
It became necessary, therefore, that all men sent to the front should be dressed as soldiers in some way or another. In addition to that splendid corps, the Legion of Frontiersmen, many new armed organisations had sprung into being, some bearing the most fantastic names, such as the “Whitechapel War-to-the-Knifes,” the “Kensington Cowboys,” the “Bayswater Braves,” and the “Southwark Scalphunters.” All the available khaki and blue serge was used up in no time; even though those who were already in possession of ordinary lounge suits of the latter material were encouraged to have them altered into uniform by the addition of stand-up collars and facings of various colours, according to their regiments and corps.
Only the time during which these men were waiting for their uniforms was spent in drill in the open spaces of the metropolis. As soon as they were clothed, they were despatched to that portion of the entrenchments to which their corps had been allocated, and there, in the intervals of their clearing and digging operations, they were hustled through a brief musketry course, which consisted for the most part in firing. The question of the provision of officers and N.C.O.s was an almost insuperable one. Retired men came forward on every side, but the supply was by no means equal to the demand, and they themselves in many instances were absolutely out of date as far as knowledge of modern arms and conditions were concerned. However, every one, with but very few exceptions, did his utmost, and by the 11th or 12th of the month the entrenchments were practically completed, and manned by upwards of 150,000 “men with muskets” of stout heart and full of patriotism, but in reality nothing but an army “pour rire” so far as efficiency was concerned.
The greater part of the guns were also placed in position, especially on the north and eastern portions of the lines, and the remainder were being mounted as fast as it was practicable. They were well manned by Volunteer and Militia artillerymen, drawn from every district which the invaders had left accessible. By the 13th the eastern section of the fortifications was strengthened by the arrival of the remnants of the Ist and Vth Army Corps, which had been so badly defeated at Chelmsford, and no time was lost in reorganising them and distributing them along the lines, thereby, to a certain extent, leavening the unbaked mass of their improvised defenders. It was generally expected that the enemy would follow up the success by an immediate attack on Brentwood, the main barrier between Von Kronhelm and his objective – our great metropolis. But, as it turned out, he had a totally different scheme in hand. The orders to Lord Byfield to evacuate the position he had maintained with such credit against the German Garde and IVth Corps have already been referred to. Their reason was obvious. Now that there was no organised resistance on his right, he stood in danger of being cut off from London, the defences of which were now in pressing need of his men. A large amount of rolling stock was at once despatched to Saffron Walden and Buntingford by the G.E.R., and to Baldock by the G.N.R., to facilitate the withdrawal of his troops and stores, and he was given an absolutely free hand as to how these were to be used, all lines being kept clear and additional trains kept waiting at his disposal at their London termini.
The 13th of September proved a memorable date in the history of England.
The evacuation of the Baldock-Saffron Walden position could not possibly have been carried out in good order on such short notice, had not Lord Byfield previously worked the whole thing out in readiness. He could not help feeling that, despite his glorious victory on the ninth, a turn of Fortune’s wheel might necessitate a retirement on London sooner or later, and, like the good General that he was, he made every preparation both for this, and other eventualities. Among other details, he had arranged that the mounted infantry should be provided with plenty of strong light wire. This was intended for the express benefit of Frölich’s formidable cavalry brigade, which he foresaw would be most dangerous to his command in the event of a retreat. As soon, therefore, as the retrograde movement commenced, the mounted infantry began to stretch their wires across every road, lane, and byway leading to the north and north-east. Some wires were laid low, within a foot of the ground, others high up where they could catch a rider about the neck or breast. This operation they carried out again and again, after the troops had passed, at various points on the route of the retreat. Thanks to the darkness, this device well fulfilled its purpose. Frölich’s brigade was on the heels of the retreating British soon after midnight, but as it was impossible for them to move over the enclosed country at night his riders were confined to the roads, and the accidents and delays occasioned by the wires were so numerous and disconcerting, that their advance had to be conducted with such caution that as a pursuit it was of no use at all. Even the infantry and heavy guns of the retiring British got over the ground nearly twice as fast. After two or three hours of this, only varied by occasional volleys from detachments of our mounted infantry, who sometimes waited in rear of their snares to let fly at the German cavalry before galloping back to lay others, the enemy recognised the fact, and, withdrawing their cavalry till daylight, replaced them by infantry, but so much time had been lost that the British had got several miles’ start.