The World Peril of 1910

by George Chetwynd Griffith

  CHAPTER XIX

  A CHANGE OF SCENE

  The _Ithuriel_ had orders to call at Folkestone and Dover in order toreport the actual state of affairs there to the Commander-in-Chief bytelegraph if Erskine could get ashore or by flash-signal if he couldnot, and incidentally to do as much damage as he could without unduerisk to his craft if he considered that circumstances demanded it.

  He arrived off Folkestone just before dusk, and, as he expected, foundthat there were half a dozen large transports, carrying probably eightthousand men and a proportionate number of horses and quick-firing guns,convoyed by four cruisers and ten destroyers, lying off the harbour.There were evidently no airships with the force, as, if there had been,they would certainly have been hovering over the town and shellingShorncliffe Barracks and the forts from the air. A brisk artillery duelwas proceeding between the land batteries and the squadron, and thehandsome town was already in flames in several places.

  Erskine, of course, recognised at once that this attack was simultaneouswith that on Dover; the object of the enemy being obviously the captureof the shore line of railway between the two great Channel ports, whichwould provide the base of a very elongated triangle, the sides of whichwould be roughly formed by the roads and railways running to thewestward and southward through Ashford and Maidstone, and to thenorthward and eastward through Canterbury, Faversham and Sittingbourne,and meeting at Rochester and Chatham, where the land forces of theinvaders would, if all went well, co-operate with the sea forces in acombined attack on London, which would, of course, be preceded by abombardment of fortified positions from the air.

  Knowing what he did of the disastrous results of the battle ofPortsmouth, he came to the conclusion that it was his duty to upset thisplan of attack at all hazards, so he called Castellan up into theconning-tower and asked his advice on the situation.

  "I see just what you mean, Erskine," replied the Lieutenant, when he hadtaken a good look at the map of Kent, "and it's my opinion that you'lldo more to help London from here and Dover just now than you will fromthe Thames. Those French cruisers are big ones, though I don't quiterecognise which they are, and they carry twice or three times the metalthat those miserable forts do--which comes of trusting everything to theFleet, as though these were the days of wooden walls and sails insteadof steam battleships, fast cruisers and destroyers, to say nothing ofsubmarines and airships. These Frenchies here don't know anything aboutthe hammering they've got at Portsmouth and the capture of thetransports, so they'll be expecting that force to be moving on London bythe Brighton and South Coast line instead of re-building our forts anddockyards; so you go in and sink and smash everything in sight. That'sjust my best advice to you."

  "It seems pretty rough on those chaps on the transports, doesn't it?"said Erskine, with a note of regret in his voice. "We sha'n't be able topick up any of them. It will be pretty like murder."

  "And what's that?" exclaimed Castellan, pointing to the fires in thetown. "Don't ye call shelling a defenceless watering-place and burningunarmed people to death in their own homes murder? What if ye had yoursister, or your mother, or your sweetheart there? How would ye feelabout murder then?"

  Denis Castellan spoke feelingly, for his captain possessed not only amother, but also a very charming sister in connection with whom hecherished certain not altogether ill-founded hopes which might perchancebe realised now that war had come and promotion was fairly sure forthose who "got through all right."

  Erskine nodded and said between his teeth:

  "Yes, you're right, old man. Such mercy as they give--such shall theyhave. Get below and take charge. We'd better go for the cruisers firstand sink them. That'll stop the shelling of the town anyhow. Then we'lltackle the destroyers, and after that, if the transports don'tsurrender--well, the Lord have mercy on them when those shells ofLennard's get among them, for they'll want it."

  "And divil a bit better do they deserve. What have we done to them thatthey should all jump on us at once like this?" growled Denis as theplatform sank with him. "There isn't one, no, nor two of them that daretackle the old sea-dog alone."

  Which remark was Irish but perfectly true.

  By this time it was dusk enough for the _Ithuriel_ to approach theunsuspecting cruisers unseen, as nothing but her conning-tower was soonvisible, even at five hundred yards, and this would vanish when she sankto make her final rush.

  The cruisers were the _Charner_, _Chanzy_, _Bruix_ and_Latouche-Treville_, all of about five thousand tons, and carrying two7.6 in., six 5.5 in. and six 9 pounders in addition to their smallquick-firers. They were steaming in an oval course of about two mileslong in line ahead, delivering their bow, stern and broadside fire asthey circled. The effect of the shells along the strip of coast wasterrible, and by the time the _Ithuriel_ came on the scene of actionSandgate, Shorncliffe and Folkestone were ablaze. The destroyers were ofcourse shepherding the transports until the cruisers had silenced theshore batteries and prepared the way for the landing.

  The _Latouche-Treville_ was leading the French line when Erskine gavethe order to sink and ram. Her captain never so much as suspected thepresence of a British warship until his vessel reeled under the shock ofthe ram, trembled from stem to stern, and began to settle quickly by thehead. Before she had time to sink the _Ithuriel_ had shaken herselffree, swung round in half a curve, and ripped the port quarter of the_Chanzy_ open ten feet below the water line. Then she charged the_Bruix_ amidships and nearly cut her in half, and as the _Charner_steamed up to the rescue of her stricken consorts her screws dragged herback from the sinking ship and her stern ram crashed into theFrenchman's starboard side under the foremast, and in about a quarter ofan hour from the delivery of the mysterious attack the four Frenchcruisers were either sunk or sinking.

  It would be almost impossible to describe the effect which was producedby this sudden and utterly unexpected calamity, not only upon theastounded invaders, but upon the defenders, who, having received thewelcome tidings of the tremendous disaster which had befallen the FrenchExpedition at Portsmouth, were expecting aid in a very different form.Like their assailants, they had seen nothing, heard nothing, until theFrench cruisers suddenly ceased fire, rolled over and disappeared.

  But a few minutes after the _Charner_ had gone down, all anxiety on thepart of the defenders was, for the time being, removed. The _Ithuriel_rose to the surface; her searchlight projector turned inshore, and sheflashed in the Private Code:

  "Suppose you have the news from Portsmouth. I am now going to smash destroyers and sink transports if they don't surrender. Don't shoot: might hurt me. Get ready for prisoners. ERSKINE, _Ithuriel_."

  It was perhaps the most singular message that had ever been sent from asea force to a land force, but it was as well understood as it waswelcome, and soon the answering signals flashed back:

  "Well done, _Ithuriel_. Heard news. Go ahead!"

  Then came the turn of the destroyers. The _Ithuriel_ rose out of thewater till her forward ram showed its point six feet above the waves.Erskine ordered full speed, and within another twenty-five minutes thetragedy of Spithead had been repeated on a smaller scale. The destroyingmonster rushed round the transports, hunting the _torpilleurs de hautemer_ down one after the other as a greyhound might run rabbits down,smashed them up and sank them almost before their officers and crew hadtime to learn what had happened to them--and then with his searchlightErskine signalled to the transports in the International Code, which isuniversally understood at sea:

  "Transports steam quarter speed into harbour and surrender. If a shot is fired shall sink you as others."

  Five of the six flags came down with a run and all save one of thetransports made slowly for the harbour. Their commanders were wiseenough to know that a demon of the deep which could sink cruisers beforethey could fire a shot and smash destroyers as if they were pleasureboats could make very short work of liners and cargo steamers, so theybowed to the inevi
table and accepted with what grace they could defeatand capture instead of what an hour or so ago looked like certainvictory. But the captain of the sixth, the one that was farthest out tosea, made a dash for liberty--or Dover.

  Erskine took down the receiver and said quietly:

  "Centre forward gun. Train: fire!"

  The next moment a brilliant blaze of flame leapt up between thetransport's funnels. They crumpled up like scorched parchment. Herwhole super-structure seemed to take fire at once and she stopped.

  Again flashed the signal:

  "Surrender or I'll ram."

  The Tricolor fluttered slowly down through the damp, still evening airfrom the transport's main truck, and almost at the same moment a fussylittle steam pinnace--which had been keeping itself snugly out of harm'sway since the first French cruiser had gone down--puffed busily out ofthe harbour, and the proudest midshipman in the British Navy--for thetime being, at least--ran from transport to transport, crowded withfurious and despairing Frenchmen, and told them, individually andcollectively, the course to steer if they wanted to get safely intoFolkestone harbour and be properly taken care of.

  Then out of the growing darkness to the westward long gleams of silverlight flashed up from the dull grey water and wandered about theunder-surface of the gathering clouds, coming nearer and growingbrighter every minute, jumping about the firmament as though the menbehind the projectors were either mad or drunk; but the signals speltout to those who understood them the cheering words:

  "All right. We'll look after these fellows. Commander-in-Chief's orders: Concentrate on Chilham, Canterbury and Dover."

  "That's all right," said Erskine to himself, as he read the signals."Beresford's got them comfortably settled already, and he's sendingsomeone to help here. Well, I think we've done our share and we'd betterget along to Dover and London."

  He flashed the signal: "Good-bye and good luck!" to the shore, andshaped his course for Dover.

  So far, in spite of the terrible losses that had been sustained by theReserve Fleet and the Channel Fleet, the odds of battle were still along way in favour of Britain, in spite of the enormous forces rangedagainst her. At least so thought both Erskine and Castellan until theygot within about three miles of Dover harbour, and Castellan, looking onsea and land and sky, exclaimed:

  "Great Heaven help us! This looks like the other place let loose!"