THE INVASION OF 1910 & THE GREAT WAR IN ENGLAND IN 1897. William Le Queux
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Название: THE INVASION OF 1910 & THE GREAT WAR IN ENGLAND IN 1897
Автор: William Le Queux
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Книги для детей: прочее
isbn: 9788027219728
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Fiercer and more fierce became the fight. A well-directed shot from one of the 67-ton guns on the Anson's rear barbette struck the conning-tower of the Magenta, blowing it away, killing the captain and those who were directing the vessel.
The sun was sinking, but the battle still raged with unabated fury. Each side struggled desperately for the mastery. The British, fighting nobly against what had all along been overwhelming odds, had succeeded in sinking some of the enemy's finest ships, and inflicting terrible loss upon the crews of the others; yet the British Admiral, on viewing the situation, was compelled to admit that he was outnumbered, and that a continuance of the struggle would inevitably result in the loss of other of his ships. There still remained three of the enemy's vessels to each one of the British. His ships were all more or less crippled, therefore a successful stand against the still overwhelming force would be sheer madness. He was not the sort of man to show the white feather; nevertheless a retreat upon Portsmouth had now become a matter of policy, and the Royal Sovereign a few minutes later ran up signals intimating to the other vessels her intention.
As the British Squadron moved away down Channel the hoarse exultant shouts of the enemy filled the air. But the fighting became even more desperate, and for over an hour there was a most exciting chase. The running fire did little harm to the retreating ships, but their stern guns played terrible havoc with the French and Russian torpedo boats, which were picked off one after another with remarkable rapidity.
Off Littlehampton one of the Russian ships ran up signals, and immediately the enemy's ships slackened. Apparently they had no desire to follow further west, for after a few parting shots they turned and stood away up Channel again, while the surviving ships of the British Squadron steamed onward in the blood-red track of the dying day.
At their head was the Royal Sovereign, battered, and bearing marks of the deadly strife; but bright against the clear, calm evening sky, the British flag, half of which had been shot away, still fluttered out in the cool breeze of sunset.
The British Lion had shown his teeth. Alas, that our Navy should have been so weak! Several of the ships had had their engines severely damaged or broken, but our margin of additional strength was so small that we had no vessels wherewith to replace those compelled to return to port.
The struggle in this, the first naval battle in the defence of our Empire, had been desperate, and the loss of life appalling.
The First Act of the most sanguinary drama of modern nations had closed.
What would be its dénouement?
BOOK II
THE STRUGGLE
CHAPTER XV
THE DOOM OF HULL
In Hull forty-eight long weary hours of anxious suspense and breathless excitement had passed. The night was dark, the sky overcast, and there was in the air that oppressive sultry stillness precursory of a storm.
Church clocks had chimed ten, yet most of the shops were still open, and the well-lighted streets of the drab old Yorkshire town were filled by a pale-faced, terror-stricken crowd surging down the thoroughfares towards the Victoria Pier. A panic had suddenly been created an hour before by the issue of an extra-special edition of the Hull evening paper, the Daily News, containing a brief telegram in large type, as follows: —
The Coastguard at Donna Nook report that a strong force of Russian war vessels, including the turret-ship Sevastopol and the barbette-ships Sinope and Cizoi Veliky, have just hove in sight and are making for the Humber. Lloyd's signal station on Spurn Point has also intimated that hostile ships coming from the south are lying-to just beyond the Lightship.
The papers sold more quickly than they could be printed, a shilling each being given for copies by the excited townspeople, who now, for the first time, suddenly realised that the enemy was upon them. Men and boys with bundles of limp papers, damp from the press, rushed along Whitefriargate, away in every direction into the suburbs, shouting the appalling intelligence in hoarse, strident tones that awoke the echoes of the quieter thoroughfares.
Now, even as purchasers of papers read the few lines of print under the dim uncertain light of street lamps, the dull booming of distant guns fell upon their ears, and the populace, wildly excited, made their way with one accord towards the Victoria Pier, to glean the latest news, and ascertain the true significance of the repeated firing.
Was Hull in danger? Would the enemy advance up the river and bombard the town? These all-important questions were on every one's tongue, and as the thousands of all classes rushed hither and thither, wild rumours of the enemy's intentions spread and increased the horror.
Within an hour of the publication of the first intimation of the presence of the invaders the excitement had become intense, and the narrow streets and narrower bridges had become congested by a terror-stricken multitude. Time after time the thunder of heavy guns shook the town, causing windows to clatter, and the people standing on the pier and along the riverside strained their eyes into the cavernous darkness towards the sea. But they could discern nothing. Across at New Holland, two miles away, lamps twinkled, but the many lights — red, white, and green — that stud the broad river for the guidance of the mariner had, since the Declaration of War, been extinguished. The familiar distant lights that had never failed to shine seaward at Salt End and Thorngumbald no longer shed their radiance, and from the revolving lights at Spurn no stream of brilliancy now flashed away upon the rolling waters of the North Sea. The buoys had been cut adrift, the Bull Lightship taken from her moorings, and the entrance to Grimsby harbour was unillumined. Not a star appeared in the sky, for all was dark, black, and threatening. Through the hot, heavy atmosphere the roar of cannon came from the direction of Spurn Point, and as the sounds of the shots fell upon the ears of the anxious watchers, they stood aghast, wondering what would be their destiny.
The suspense was awful. Men, women, and children, with scared faces, stood in groups in the market-place, in Queen Street, and in High Street, discussing the situation. This question, however, was already engaging the attention of the municipal and military authorities, for on hearing the alarming news the Mayor, with shrewd promptitude, walked quickly to the Town Hall, and held a hurried informal consultation with Mr. Charles Wilson, Mr. Arthur Wilson, Mr. Richardson, Major Wellsted, Alderman Woodhouse, and a number of aldermen and councillors. All knew the town was in peril. The enemy could have but one object in entering the Humber. Yet it was agreed that no steps could be taken at such brief notice to defend the place. The guardship Edinburgh had been withdrawn to form part of the squadron upon which they would be compelled to rely, with the batteries at Paull and the submarine mines.
It was evident by the firing that an attack upon the British Squadron had commenced. The shadow of impending disaster had fallen.
Working men, hurrying towards the pier, stopped their leader, Mr. Millington, and tried to learn what was being done, while many of the leading townsfolk were thronged around for information, and were centres of excited groups in Whitefriargate. The boatmen, sharply questioned on every hand, were as ignorant of the state of affairs as those seeking information, so nothing could be done except to wait.
Women and children of the middle СКАЧАТЬ