WILLIAM LE QUEUX: 15 Dystopian Novels & Espionage Thrillers (Illustrated Edition). William Le Queux

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      The scene of carnage in that hour of fighting was awful. The Daily Chronicle described it as one of the most fiercely-contested encounters in the whole history of the siege. Shoreditch had given courage to King’s Cross, for, unknown to Von Kronhelm, houses in all quarters were being put in a state of defence, their position being carefully chosen by those directing the secret operations of the League of Defenders.

      For over an hour the houses in question gallantly held out, sweeping the streets constantly with their Maxim. Presently, however, on further reinforcements arriving, the German colonel directed his men to enter the houses opposite. In an instant a door was broken in, and presently glass came tumbling down as muzzles of rifles were poked through the panes, and soon sharp crackling showed that the Germans had settled down to their work. The movements of the enemy throughout were characterised by their coolness and military common sense. They did the work before them in a quiet, business-like way, not shirking risk when it was necessary, but, on the other hand, not needlessly exposing themselves for the sake of swagger.

      The defence of the Londoners was most obstinate. In the streets, Londoners attacked the enemy with utter disregard for the risks they ran. Women, among them many young girls, joined in the fray, armed with pistols and knives.

      After a while a great body of reinforcements appeared in the Euston Road, having been sent hurriedly along from Regent’s Park. Then the option was given to those occupying the fortified house to surrender, the colonel promising to spare their lives. The Londoners peremptorily refused. Everywhere the fighting became more desperate, and spread all through the streets leading out of St. Pancras, York, and Caledonian Roads, until the whole of that great neighbourhood became the scene of a fierce conflict, in which both sides lost heavily. Right across Islington the street fighting spread, and many were the fatal traps set for the unwary German who found himself cut off in that maze of narrow streets between York Road and the Angel. The enemy, on the other hand, were shooting down women and girls as well as the men, even the non-combatants — those who came out of their houses to ascertain what was going on — being promptly fired at and killed.

      In the midst of all this somebody ignited some petrol in a house a few doors from the chapel in Pentonville Road, and in a few moments the whole row of buildings were blazing furiously, belching forth black smoke and adding to the terror and confusion of those exciting moments. Even that large body of Germans now upon the scene were experiencing great difficulty in defending themselves. A perfect rain of bullets seemed directed upon them on every hand, and to-day’s experience certainly proves that Londoners are patriotic and brave, and in their own districts they possess a superiority over the trained troops of the Kaiser.

      At length, after a most sanguinary struggle, the Londoners’ position was carried, the houses were entered, and twenty-two brave patriots, mostly of the working class, taken prisoners. The populace now realising that the Germans had, after all, overpowered their comrades in their fortress, fell back; but being pursued northward towards the railway line between Highbury and Barnsbury Stations, many of them were despatched on the spot.

      What followed was indeed terrible. The anger of the Germans now became uncontrollable. Having in view Von Kronhelm’s proclamation, — which sentenced to death all who, not being in uniform, fired upon German troops, — they decided to teach the unfortunate populace a lesson. As a matter of fact, they feared that such revolts might be repeated in other quarters.

      So they seized dozens of prisoners, men and women, and shot them down. Many of these summary executions took place against the wall of the St. Pancras Station at the corner of Euston Road. Men and women were pitilessly sent to death. Wives, daughters, fathers, sons were ranged up against that wall, and, at signal from the colonel, fell forward with German bullets through them.

      Of the men who had so gallantly held the fortified house, not a single one escaped. Strings of men and women were hurried to their doom in one day, for the troops were savage with the lust of blood, and Von Kronhelm, though he was aware of it by telephone, lifted not a finger to stop those arbitrary executions.

      But enough of such details. Suffice it to say that the stones of Islington were stained with the blood of innocent Londoners, and that those who survived took a fierce vow of vengeance. Von Kronhelm’s legions had the upper hand for the moment, yet the conflict and its bloody sequel had the effect of arousing the fiercest anger within the heart of every Briton in the metropolis.

      What was in store for us none could tell. We were conquered, oppressed, starved; yet hope was still within us. The League of Defenders were not idle, while South London was hourly completing her strength.

      When the day dawned for the great revenge — as it would ere long — then every man and woman in London would rise simultaneously, and the arrogant Germans would cry for quarter that certainly would never be given them.

      It seems that after quelling the revolt at King’s Cross wholesale arrests were made in Islington. The guilt or innocence of the prisoners did not seem to matter, Von Kronhelm dealing out to them exemplary and summary punishment. In all cases the charges were doubtful, and in many cases the innocent have, alas! paid the penalty with their lives.

      Terror reigns in London. One newspaper correspondent — whose account is published this morning in South London, having been sent across the Thames by carrier pigeon, many of which were now being employed by the newspapers — had an opportunity of witnessing the wholesale executions which took place yesterday afternoon outside Dorchester House, where Von Kleppen has established his quarters. Von Kleppen seems to be the most pitiless of the superior officers. The prisoners, ranged up for inspection in front of the big mansion, were mostly men from Islington, all of whom knew only too well the fate in store for them. Walking slowly along and eyeing the ranks of these unfortunate wretches, the German General stopped here and there, tapping a man on the shoulder or beckoning him out of the rear ranks. In most cases, without further word, the individual thus selected was marched into the Park at Stanhope Gate, where a small supplementary column was soon formed.

      Those chosen knew that their last hour had come. Some clasped their hands and fell upon their knees, imploring pity, while others remained silent and stubborn patriots. One man, his face covered with blood and his arm broken, sat down and howled in anguish, and others wept in silence. Some women — wives and daughters of the condemned men — tried to get within the Park to bid them adieu and to urge courage, but the soldiers beat them back with their rifles. Some of the men laughed defiantly, others met death with a stony stare. The eye-witness saw the newly-dug pit that served as common grave, and he stood by and saw them shot and their corpses afterwards flung into it.

      One young fair-haired woman, condemned by Von Kleppen, rushed forward to that officer, threw herself upon her knees, implored mercy, and protested her innocence wildly. But the officer, callous and pitiless, simply motioned to a couple of soldiers to take her within the Park, where she shared the same fate as the men.

      How long will this awful state of affairs last? We must die, or conquer. London is in the hands of a legion of assassins — Bavarians, Saxons, Würtembergers, Hessians, Badeners — all now bent upon prolonging the reign of terror, and thus preventing the uprising that they know is, sooner or later, inevitable.

      Terrible accounts are reaching us of how the Germans are treating their prisoners on Hounslow Heath, at Enfield, and other places; of the awful sufferings of the poor unfortunate fellows, of hunger, of thirst, and of inhuman disregard for either their comfort or their lives.

      At present we are powerless, hemmed in by our barricades. Behind us, upon Sydenham Hill, General Bamford is in a strong position, and his great batteries are already defending any attack upon London from the south. From the terrace in front of the Crystal Palace his guns can sweep the whole range of southern suburbs. Through Dulwich, Herne Hill, Champion Hill, and Denmark Hill are riding British cavalry, СКАЧАТЬ