The Invasion of 1910

CHAPTER X

SITUATION SOUTH OF THE THAMES

The enemy on land had operated rapidly and decisively upon a prearranged scheme that was perfect in every detail.

By September 24th, three weeks after the first landing, England had, alas! learnt a bitter lesson by the shells showered down upon her open towns if they made a show of resistance. She had been taught it by her burning villages, scientifically fired with petrol, for having harboured Frontiersmen or Free-shooters, whom the German Staff did not choose to acknowledge as belligerents, by the great sacrifice of lives of innocent children and women, by war contributions, crushing requisitions, and the ruin and desolation that had marked every bivouac of the invading army. And now, while the Germans stood triumphant in London north of the Thames, South London was still held by the desperate populace, aided by many infantry and artillery, who, after their last stand on the northern heights, had made a detour to the south by crossing the river at Richmond Bridge and coming up to the Surrey shore by way of Wandsworth. By their aid the barricades were properly reconstructed with paving-stones, sacks of sand and sawdust, rolls of carpet, linoleum and linen – in fact, anything and everything that would stop bullets.

The assault at Waterloo Bridge on the night of the enemy’s occupation had in the end proved disastrous to the Germans, for, once within, they found themselves surrounded by a huge armed mob in the Waterloo Road and in the vicinity of the South-Western terminus; notwithstanding their desperate defence, they were exterminated to a man, until the gutters beneath the railway bridges ran with blood. Meanwhile the breach in the barricade was repaired, and two guns and ammunition captured from the enemy mounted in defence. There was a similar incident on Vauxhall Bridge, the populace being victorious, and now the Germans were offering no further opposition, as they had quite sufficient to occupy them on the Middlesex side.

The division of Lord Byfield’s army which had gone south to Horsham had moved north, and on the 24th were holding the country across from Epsom to Kingston-on-Thames, while patrols and motorists were out from Ewell, through Cheam, Sutton, Carshalton, Croydon, and Upper Norwood, to the high ground at the Crystal Palace. From Kingston to the Tower Bridge all approaches across the Thames were barricaded and held by desperate mobs, aided by artillerymen.

In those early days after the occupation, military order had apparently disappeared in London, as far as the British were concerned. General Sir Francis Bamford had, on the proclamation of martial law in London, been appointed military governor, and had, on the advance of the Germans, retired to the Crystal Palace, where he had now established his headquarters in the palace itself, with a wireless telegraph apparatus placed upon the top of the left-hand tower, by means of which he was in constant communication with Lord Byfield at Windsor, where the apparatus had been hoisted upon the flagstaff of the Round Tower.

The military tribunals established by the Proclamation of the 14th still existed in the police courts of South London, but those north of the Thames had already been replaced by German officers, and the British officers went across the bridges into the British lines. Von Kronhelm’s clever tactics, by which he had established an advisory board of British officials to assist in the government of London, seemed to have had the desired effect of reassurance in the case of London north of the Thames. But south of the river the vast population in that huge area from Gravesend, through Dartford, Bexley, Bromley, Croydon, Merton, Wimbledon, and Kingston, lived still at the highest tension, while the defenders at the bridges and along the river-front kept up unceasing vigilance night and day, never knowing at what spot the Germans might throw across their pontoons. In peace time the enemy had for years practised the pontooning of the Rhine and the Elbe; therefore, they knew it to be an easy matter to cross the narrower reaches of the Thames if they so desired.

On the 24th the rumour became current, too, that during the night German wagons had moved large quantities of specie from the Bank of England out to their base at Southminster; but, though it was most probable, the news was not confirmed. On this date the position as regards London, briefly reviewed, was as follows: —

London north of the Thames, eastward to the sea, and the whole of the country east of a line drawn from the metropolis to Birmingham, was in the hands of the Germans. The enemy’s Guard Corps, under the Duke of Mannheim, who had landed at King’s Lynn, had established their headquarters at Hampstead, and held North London, with a big encampment in Regent’s Park. The Xth Corps, under Von Wilberg, from Yarmouth, were holding the City proper; the IXth Corps, from Lowestoft, were occupying the outskirts of East London, and keeping the lines of communication with Southminster; the IVth Corps, from Weybourne, under Von Kleppen, were in Hyde Park, and held Western London; while the Saxons had been pushed out from Shepperton through Staines to Colnbrook, as a safeguard from attack by Lord Byfield’s force, so rapidly being reorganised at Windsor. The remnants of the beaten army had gone to Chichester and Salisbury, but were now coming rapidly north, as the British Commander-in-Chief, had, it appeared, decided to give battle again, aided by the infuriated populace of Southern London.

At no spot south of the Thames, except perhaps the reconnoitring parties who crossed at Egham, Thorpe, and Weybridge, and recrossed each night, were there any Germans. The ground was so vast and the population so great, that Von Kronhelm feared to spread out his troops over too great an area. The Saxons had orders simply to keep Lord Byfield in check, and see that he did not cross the river. Thus it became for the time a drawn game. The Germans held the north of the Thames, while the British were continually threatening and making demonstrations from the south.

So great, however, was the population now assembled in South London that food was rising to absolutely famine prices. The estuary of the river had been so thickly mined by the Germans that no ships bearing food dared to come up. The Straits of Dover and the Solent were still dangerous on account of the floating mines, and it was only at places such as Brighton, Eastbourne, Hastings, and Folkestone that supplies could be landed at that moment. Trucks full of flour, coffee, rice, brandy, canned meats, boots, uniforms, arms, were daily run up to Deptford, Herne Hill, Croydon, and Wimbledon, but such supplies were very meagre for the millions now crowded along the river front, full of enthusiasm still to defy the enemy. At the first news of the invasion all the coal and coke in London had been expressly reserved for public purposes, small quantities only being issued to printing establishments and other branches of public necessity; but to private individuals they were rigorously denied. Wood, however, was sold without restriction, and a number of barges, old steamers of the County Council, and such-like craft were broken up for fuel.

Through the past ten days the darkness, gloom, and ever-deepening hunger had increased, and though London retained the same spirit with which it had received the news of the audacious invasion, that portion south of the Thames was starving. Between the 20th and 24th September the price of every article of food rose enormously. On the 24th Ostend rabbits were sold in the Walworth Road for a sovereign each, and a hare cost double. An apple cost 1s. 6d., a partridge 15s., a fresh egg 2s., while bacon was 6s. 6d. a pound, and butter £1 per pound. Shops in the Old Kent Road, Camberwell, Brixton, Kennington, Walworth, Waterloo, and London Roads, which had hitherto been perhaps the cheapest places in which to buy provisions in the whole of London, were now prohibitive in their prices to the poor, though ladies habitually living in the West End and driven there through force of circumstances readily paid the exorbitant charges demanded. Indeed, there was often a fight in those shops for a rabbit, a ham, or a tin of pressed beef, one person bidding against another for its possession. Tallow was often being used for the purposes of cookery, and is said to have answered well.

If South London was in such a state of starvation, even though small quantities of food were daily coming in, Von Kronhelm’s position must have been one of extreme gravity when it is remembered that his food supply was now cut off. It was calculated that each of his five army corps operating upon London consumed in the space of twenty-four hours 18,000 loaves weighing 3 lb. each, 120 cwt. of rice or pearl barley, seventy oxen or 120 cwt. of bacon, 18 cwt. of salt, 30 cwt. of coffee, 12 cwt. of oats, 3 cwt. of hay, 3500 quarts of spirits and beer, with 60 cwt. of tobacco, 1,100,000 ordinary cigars, and 50,000 officers’ cigars for every ten days.

And yet all was provided for at Southminster, Grimsby, King’s Lynn, Norwich, and Goole. Huge food bases had been rapidly established from the first day of the invasion. The German Army, whatever might be said of it, was a splendid military machine, and we had been in every way incapable of coping with it. Yet it was impossible not to admire the courage and patriotism of the men under Byfield, Hibbard, and Woolmer in making the attempt, though from the first the game had been known to be hopeless.

West of London the members of the Hendon and other rifle clubs, together with a big body of Frontiersmen and other free-shooters, were continually harassing the Saxon advanced posts between Shepperton and Colnbrook, towards Uxbridge. On the 24th a body of 1,500 riflemen and Frontiersmen attacked a company of Saxon Pioneers close to where the Great Western Railway crosses the River Crane, north of Cranford. The Germans, being outnumbered, were obliged to withdraw to Hayes with a loss of twenty killed and a large force of wounded. Shortly afterwards, on the following day, the Pioneers, having been reinforced, retraced their steps in order to clear the districts on the Crane of our irregular forces; and they announced that if, as reported, the people of Cranford and Southall had taken part in the attack, both places would be burned.

That same night the railway bridges over the Crane and the Grand Junction Canal in the vicinity were blown up by the Frontiersmen. The fifty Saxons guarding each bridge were surprised by the British sharpshooters, and numbers of them shot. Three hours later, however, Cranford, Southall, and Hayes were burned with petrol, and it was stated by Colonel Meyer, of the Saxons, that this was to be the punishment of any place where railways were destroyed. Such was the system of terrorism by which the enemy hoped to terminate the struggle. Such proceedings – and this was but one of a dozen others in various outlying spots beyond the Metropolitan area – did not produce the effect of shortening the duration of hostilities. On the contrary, they only served to prolong the deadly contest by exciting a wild desire for revenge in many who might otherwise have been disposed towards an amicable settlement.

With the dawn of the 25th September, a grey day with fine drizzling rain in London, the situation seemed still more hopeless. The rain, however, did not by any means damp the ardour of the defenders at the bridges. They sang patriotic songs, while barrel-organs and bands played about them night and day. Though hungry, their spirits never flagged. The newspapers printed across the river were brought over in small boats from the Surrey side, and eagerly seized and read by anxious thousands. The lists of British casualties were being published, and the populace were one and all anxious for news of missing friends.

The chief item of news that morning, however, was a telegram from the Emperor William, in which he acknowledged the signal services rendered by Field-Marshal Von Kronhelm and his army. He had sent one hundred and fifty Orders of the Iron Cross for distribution among officers who had distinguished themselves, accompanied by the following telegraphic despatch, which every paper in London was ordered to print: —

GENERAL VON KRONHELM, – Your heroic march, your gallant struggle to reach London, your victorious attack and your capture of the Capital of the British Empire, is one of the greatest feats of arms in all history.

I express my royal thanks, my deepest acknowledgments, and bestow upon you the Grand Cross of the Red Eagle, with the sword, as proof of this acknowledgment.

The wharves and embankments of the Surrey shore of the Thames, from Erith to Kingston, were being patrolled day and night by armed men. Any boat crossing the river was at once challenged, and not allowed to approach unless under a flag of truce, or it was ascertained that its occupants were non-belligerents. Everywhere the greatest precaution was being taken against spies, and on the two or three occasions when the Germans had reconnoitered by means of balloons, sharpshooters had constantly fired at them.

As may well be imagined, spy-mania was now rife in every quarter in South London, and any man bearing a foreign name, no matter of what nationality, or known to be a foreigner, was at once suspected, and often openly insulted, even though he might be a naturalised Englishman. It was very unsafe for any foreigner now to go abroad. One deplorable incident occurred that afternoon. A German baker, occupying a shop in Newington Butts, and who had lived in England twenty-five years and become a naturalised British subject, was walking along the Kennington Road with his wife, having come forth in curiosity to see what was in progress, when he was met by a man with whom he had had some business quarrel. The man in question, as he passed, cried out to the crowd that he was a German. “He’s one of Von Kronhelm’s spies!” he shouted.

At the word “spy” the crowd all turned. They saw the unfortunate man had turned pale at this charge, which was tantamount to a sentence of death, and believed him to be guilty. Some wild and irrepressible men set up a loud cry of “Spy! Spy! Down with him! Down with the traitor!” and ere the unfortunate baker was aware of it he was seized by a hundred hands, and lynched.

More than once real spies were discovered, and short shrift was meted out to them; but in several instances it is feared that gross mistakes were made, and men accused as spies out of venomous personal spite. There is little doubt that under cover of night a number of Von Kronhelm’s English-speaking agents were able to cross the river in boats and return on the following night, for it was apparent by the tone of the newspapers that the German generalissimo was fully aware of what was in progress south of the river.

To keep a perfect watch upon a river-front of so many miles against watermen who knew every landing-place and every point of concealment, was utterly impossible. The defenders, brave men all, did their best, and they killed at sight every spy they captured; but it was certain that the enemy had established a pretty complete system of intelligence from the camp of the defiant Londoners.

At the barricades was a quiet, calm enthusiasm. Now that it was seen that the enemy had no immediate intention of storming the defences at the bridges, those manning them rested, smoked, and, though ever vigilant, discussed the situation. Beneath every bridge men of the Royal Engineers had effected certain works which placed them in readiness for instant destruction. The explosives were there, and only by the pressing of the button the officer in command of any bridge could blow it into the air, or render it unsafe for the enemy to venture upon.

The great League of Defenders was in course of rapid formation. Its proclamations were upon every wall. When the time was ripe, London would rise. The day of revenge was fast approaching.

London, north of the Thames, though shattered and wrecked, began, by slow degrees, to grow more calm.

One half of the populace seemed to have accepted the inevitable; the other half being still terrified and appalled at the havoc wrought on every hand. In the case of Paris, forty years before, when the Germans had bombarded the city, their shells had done but little damage. In those days neither guns nor ammunition were at such perfection as they now were, the enemy’s high-power explosives accounting for the fearful destruction caused.

A very curious fact about the bombardment must here be noted. Londoners, though terrified beyond measure when the shells began to fall among them and explode, grew, in the space of a couple of hours, to be quite callous, and seemed to regard the cannonade in the light of a pyrotechnical display. They climbed to every point of vantage, and regarded the continuous flashes and explosions with the same open-mouthed wonder as they would exhibit at the Crystal Palace on a firework night.

The City proper was still held by the Xth Corps under General von Wilburg, who had placed a strong cordon around it, no unauthorised person being allowed to enter or leave. In some of the main roads in Islington, Hoxton, Whitechapel, Clapton, and Kingsland, a few shops that had not been seized by the Germans had courageously opened their doors. Provision shops, bakers, greengrocers, dairies, and butchers were, however, for the most part closed, for in the Central Markets there was neither meat nor vegetables, every ounce of food having been commandeered by German foraging parties.

As far as possible, however, the enemy were, with the aid of the English Advisory Board, endeavouring to calm the popular excitement and encourage trade in other branches. At certain points such as at Aldgate, at Oxford Circus, at Hyde Park Corner, in Vincent Square, Westminster, at St. James’s Park near Queen Anne’s Gate, and in front of Hackney Church, the German soldiers distributed soup once a day to all comers, Von Kronhelm being careful to pretend a parental regard for the metropolis he had occupied.

The population north of the Thames was not, however, more than one quarter what it usually was, for most of the inhabitants had fled across the bridges during the bombardment, and there remained on the Surrey side in defiance of the invader.

Night and day the barricade-builders were working at the bridges in order to make each defence a veritable redoubt. They did not intend that the disasters of the northern suburbs – where the bullets had cut through the overturned carts and household furniture as through butter – should be repeated. Therefore at each bridge, behind the first hastily-constructed defence, there were being thrown up huge walls of sacks filled with earth, and in some places where more earth was obtainable earthworks themselves with embrasures. Waterloo, Blackfriars, Southwark, London, and Cannon Street bridges were all defended by enormous earthworks, and by explosives already placed for instant use if necessary. Hungerford Bridge had, of course, been destroyed by the Germans themselves, huge iron girders having fallen into the river; but Vauxhall, Lambeth, Battersea, Hammersmith, and Kew and other bridges were equally strongly defended as those nearer the centre of London. Many other barricades had been constructed at various points in South London, such as across the Bridge End Road, Wandsworth, several across the converging roads at St. George’s Circus, and again at the Elephant and Castle, in Bankside, in Tooley Street, where it joins Bermondsey Street, at the approach to the Tower Bridge, in Waterloo Road at its junction with Lower Marsh, across the Westminster Bridge and Kennington Roads, across the Lambeth Road where it joins the Kennington Road, at the junction of Upper Kennington Lane with Harleyford Road, in Victoria Road at the approach to Chelsea Bridge, and in a hundred other smaller thoroughfares. Most of these barricades were being built for the protection of certain districts rather than for the general strategic defence of South London. In fact, most of the larger open spaces were barricaded, and points of entrance carefully blocked. In some places exposed barricades were connected with one another by a covered way, the neighbouring houses being crenellated and their windows protected with coal sacks filled with earth. Cannon now being brought in by Artillery from the south were being mounted everywhere, and as each hour went by the position of South London became strengthened by both men and guns.

CHAPTER XI

DEFENCES OF SOUTH LONDON

Preparations were being continued night and day to place the working-class districts in Southwark and Lambeth in a state of strong defence, and the constant meetings convened in public halls and chapels by the newly-formed League of Defenders incited the people to their work. Everybody lent a willing hand, rich and poor alike. People who had hitherto lived in comfort in Regent’s Park, Hampstead, or one or other of the better-class northern suburbs, now found themselves herded among all sorts and conditions of men and women, and living as best they could in those dull, drab streets of Lambeth, Walworth, Battersea, and Kennington. It was, indeed, a strange experience for them. In the sudden flight from the north parents had become separated from their children and husbands from their wives, so that in many cases haggard and forlorn mothers were in frantic search of their little ones, fearing that they might have already died of starvation or been trampled under foot by the panic-stricken multitudes. The dense population of South London had already been trebled. They were penned in by the barricades in many instances, for each district seemed to be now placing itself in a state of defence, independent of any other.