The Great War in England in 1897

Moments dragged on like hours, each bringing the town of Hull nearer its fate. The people knew it, but were powerless. They stood awaiting the unknown.

The Russian force, besides the three vessels already mentioned, included the armoured cruiser Dimitri Donskoi, the central-battery ship Kniaz Pojarski, the cruiser Pamyat Merkuriya, two of the new armoured cruisers, Mezen and Syzran, of the Rurik type, the corvette Razboynik, the torpedo gunboats Griden and Gaidamak, and the armoured gunboat Gremyastchy, with several torpedo boats.

The manner in which they had manœuvred to pass Spurn Point and ascend the river was remarkable, and astounded the officers in the forts at Paull. They, however, were not aware that each captain of those vessels possessed a copy of the British secret code and other important information compiled from the documents filched from the body of the Admiralty messenger by the Count von Beilstein at the Mariners' Rest at Deal!

The possession of this secret knowledge, which was, of course, unknown to our Admiralty, enabled the captains of the Russian vessels to evade sunken hulks and other obstructions, and take some of their ships slowly up the river, bearing well on the Lincolnshire coast, so as to keep, until the last moment, out of the range of the search-lights at Paull. Then, on the first attack from the batteries, they suddenly replied with such a hail of shell, that from the first moment it was clear that the strength of the fort with its obsolete guns was totally inadequate.

The roar of the cannonade was incessant. Amid the deafening explosions the townspeople of Hull rushed up and down the streets screaming and terrified. Suddenly a great shell fell with a dull thud in Citadel Street, close to a crowd of excited women, and exploding a second later, blew a number of them to atoms, and wrecked the fronts of several houses.

This served to increase the panic. The people were on the verge of madness with fright and despair. Thousands seized their money and jewellery and fled away upon the roads leading to the country. Others hid away their valuables, and preferred to remain; the crisis had come, and as Britons they determined to face it.

While the Russian ships, lying broadside-on in positions carefully selected to avoid the electro-contact mines, poured their terrible fire upon the land battery at Paull, their torpedo boats darted hither and thither with extraordinary rapidity. Several were sunk by shots from the battery, but four piquet boats in the darkness at last managed to creep up, and after searching, seized the cable connecting the mines with the Submarine Mining Station at Paull.

This was discovered just at the critical moment by means of one of the British search-lights, and upon the hostile boats a frightful cascade of projectiles was poured by the quick-firing guns of the battery.

But it was, alas, too late! The cable had been cut. To the whole of the wires a small electric battery had in a moment been attached, and as the guns of the fort crashed out there were a series of dull explosions under the bed of the river across the channel from Foul Holme Sand to Killingholme Haven, and from Paull Coastguard Station to the Skitter.

The dark water rose here and there. The whole of the mines had been simultaneously fired!

Cheers rang out from the Russian vessels, sounding above the heavy cannonade. The destruction of this most important portion of the defences of the Humber had been accomplished by the boats just at the very instant when they were shattered by British shells, and ere the waters grew calm again the last vestige of the boats had disappeared. The officers at Paull worked on with undaunted courage, striving by every means in their power to combat with the superior forces. In a measure, too, they were successful, for such havoc did the shells play with the gunboat Gremyastchy that she slowly foundered, and her crew were compelled to abandon her. A portion of the men were rescued by the Syzran, but two boatloads were precipitated into the water, and nearly all were drowned. Two of the big guns of the Dimitri Donskoi were disabled, and the loss of life on several of the ships was considerable. Nevertheless the firing was still incessant. Time after time the 9-ton guns of the Kniaz Pojarski and the four 13½-tonners of the Mezen threw their terrible missiles upon the defences at Paull with frightful effect, until at length, after a most desperate, stubborn resistance on the part of the British commander of the battery, and after half the defending force had been killed, the guns suddenly ceased.

Both land and sea defences had been broken down! The Russians were now free to advance upon Hull!

Not a moment was lost. Ten minutes after the guns of Paull had been silenced, the enemy's ships, moving very cautiously forward, opened a withering fire upon the town.

The horrors of that bombardment were frightful. At the moment of the first shots, fired almost simultaneously from the two big guns of the Syzran, the panic became indescribable. Both shells burst with loud detonations and frightfully devastating effect. The first, striking one of the domes of the Dock Office, carried it bodily away, at the same time killing several persons; while the other, crashing upon the Exchange, unroofed it, and blew away the colossal statue of Britannia which surmounted the parapet on the corner. Surely this was an omen of impending disaster!

Ere the horrified inhabitants could again draw breath, the air was rent by a terrific crash, as simultaneously flame rushed from the guns of the Kniaz Pojarski, the Pamyat Merkuriya, and the Mezen, and great shells were hurled into the town in every direction. The place trembled and shook as if struck by an earthquake, and everywhere walls fell and buildings collapsed.

Long bright beams of the search-lights swept the town and neighbouring country, lighting up the turbulent streets like day, and as the crowds rushed headlong from the river, shot and shell struck in their midst, killing hundreds of starving toilers and unoffending men, women, and children.

Lying off Salt End, the Cizoi Veliky, which had now come up the river in company with two torpedo boats, poured from her barbette a heavy fire upon the Alexandra Dock and Earle's shipbuilding yard, while the other vessels, approaching nearer, wrought terrible destruction with every shot in various other parts of the town. In the course of a quarter of an hour many streets were impassable, owing to the fallen buildings, and in dozens of places the explosion of the mélinite shells had set on fire the ruined houses.

Missiles hurled from such close quarters by such heavy guns wrought the most fearful havoc. Naturally, the Russian gunners, discovering the most prominent buildings with their search-lights, aimed at them and destroyed many of the public edifices.

Among the first prominent structures to topple and fall was the Wilberforce Monument, and then, in rapid succession, shots carried away another dome of the Dock Office, and the great square towers of St. John's and Holy Trinity Churches. The gaudily gilded equestrian statue of King William III. was flung from its pedestal and smashed by a heavy shot, which entered a shop opposite, completely wrecking it; and two shells, striking the handsome offices of the Hull Banking Company at the corner of Silver Street, reduced the building to a heap of ruins. Deadly shells fell in quick succession in Paragon Street, and at the North-Eastern Railway Station, where the lines and platforms were torn up, and the Station Hotel, being set on fire, was soon burning fiercely, for the flames spread unchecked here, as in every other quarter. Church spires fell crashing into neighbouring houses, whole rows of shops were demolished in Whitefriargate, High Street, and Saville Street, and roads were everywhere torn up by the enemy's exploding missiles.

Not for a moment was there a pause in this awful work of destruction; not for a moment was the frightful massacre of the inhabitants suspended. The enemy's sole object was apparently to weaken the northern defences of London by drawing back the Volunteer battalions to the north. There was no reason to bombard after the fort had been silenced, yet they had decided to destroy the town and cause the most widespread desolation possible.

Flame flashed from the muzzles of those great desolating guns so quickly as to appear like one brilliant, incessant light. Shells from the Cizoi Veliky fell into the warehouses around the Alexandra Dock, and these, with the fine new grain warehouses on each side of the river Hull, were blazing furiously with a terrible roar. High into the air great tongues of flame leaped, their volume increased by the crowd of ships in the dock also igniting in rapid succession, shedding a lurid glare over the terrible scene, and lighting up the red, angry sky. The long range of warehouses, filled with inflammable goods, at the edge of the Albert and William Wright Docks, were on fire, while the warehouses of the Railway Dock, together with a large number of Messrs. Thomas Wilson's fine steamers, were also in flames. Such a hold had the flames obtained that no power could arrest them, and as the glare increased it was seen by those flying for their lives that the whole of the port was now involved.

The great petroleum stores of the Anglo-American Company, struck by a shell, exploded a few moments later with a most terrific and frightful detonation which shook the town. For a moment it seemed as if both town and river were enveloped in one great sheet of flame, then, as blazing oil ran down the gutters on every side, fierce fires showed, and whole streets were alight from end to end.

Hundreds of persons perished in the flames, hundreds were shot down by the fragments of flying missiles, and hundreds more were buried under falling ruins. Everywhere the roar of flames mingled with the shrieks of the dying. Shells striking the Royal Infirmary burst in the wards, killing many patients in their beds, and setting fire to the building, while others, crashing through the roof of the Theatre Royal, carried away one of the walls and caused the place to ignite. One shot from the 13-ton gun of the Syzran tore its way into the nave of Holy Trinity Church, and, exploding, blew out the three beautiful windows and wrecked the interior, while another from the same gun demolished one of the corner buildings of the new Market Hall. The handsome tower of the Town Hall, struck by a shell just under the dial, came down with a frightful crash, completely blocking Lowgate with its débris, and almost at the same instant a shot came through the dome of the Council Chamber, totally destroying the apartment.

The Mariners' Hospital and Trinity House suffered terribly, many of the inmates of the former being blown to pieces. One shot completely demolished the Savings Bank at the corner of George Street, and a shell exploding under the portico of the Great Thornton Street Chapel blew out the whole of its dark façade. Another, striking the extensive premises of a firm of lead merchants at the corner of Brook and Paragon Streets, swept away the range of buildings like grass before the scythe.

In the Queen's, Humber, Victoria, and Prince's Docks the congested crowd of idle merchant ships were enveloped in flames that wrapped themselves about the rigging, and, crackling, leaped skyward. The Orphanage at Spring Bank, the Artillery Barracks, and Wilberforce House were all burning; in fact, in the course of the two hours during which the bombardment lasted hardly a building of note escaped.

The houses of the wealthy residents far away up Spring Bank, Anlaby and Beverley Roads, and around Pearson's Park, had been shattered and demolished; the shops in Saville Street had without exception been destroyed, and both the Cannon Street and Pier Stations had been completely wrecked and unroofed.

Soon after two o'clock in the morning, when the Russian war vessels ceased their thunder, the whole town was as one huge furnace, the intense heat and suffocating smoke from which caused the Russian Admiral to move his vessels towards the sea as quickly as the necessary soundings allowed.

The glare lit the sky for many miles around. The immense area of great burning buildings presented a magnificent, appalling spectacle.

It was a terrible national disaster – a frightful holocaust, in which thousands of lives, with property worth millions, had been wantonly destroyed by a ruthless enemy which Britain's defective and obsolete defences were too weak to keep at bay – a devastating catastrophe, swift, complete, awful.

CHAPTER XVI.

TERROR ON THE TYNE

England was thrilled, dismayed, petrified. The wholesale massacre at Eastbourne and the terrible details of the bombardment of Hull had spread increased horror everywhere throughout the land.

Terror reigned on the Tyneside. Hospitals, asylums, and public institutions, crowded with affrighted inmates, had no food to distribute. In Newcastle, in Shields, in Jarrow, and in Gateshead the poor were idle and hungry, while the wealthy were feverishly apprehensive. A Sabbath quiet had fallen on the great silent highway of the Tyne. In those blazing days and breathless nights there was an unbroken stillness that portended dire disaster.

In the enormous crowded districts on each side of the river the gaunt spectre Starvation stalked through the cheerless homes of once industrious toilers, and the inmates pined and died. So terrible was the distress already, that domestic pets were being killed and eaten, dogs and cats being no uncommon dish, the very offal thrown aside being greedily devoured by those slowly succumbing to a horrible death. Awful scenes of suffering and blank despair were being witnessed on every side.

Three days after the enemy had ascended the Humber and dealt such a decisive blow at Hull, the port of South Shields was suddenly alarmed by information telegraphed from the Coastguard on Harton Down Hill, about a mile south of the town, to the effect that they had sighted a number of French and Russian ships.

Panic at once ensued. The broad market-place was filled by a terror-stricken crowd of townspeople, while the seafaring population surged down King Street and Ocean Road, across the park to the long South Pier at the entrance to the Tyne, eager to reassure themselves that the enemy had no designs upon their town.

In the dull red afterglow that lit up the broad bay of golden sand between Trow Point and the pier, a huge vessel suddenly loomed dark upon the sky line, and, as she approached, those watching anxiously through glasses made her out as the great steel turret-ship Lazare Carnot, flying the French Tricolor. Immediately following her came a number of cruisers, gunboats, and torpedo boats. They included the Dimitri Donskoi, the Kniaz Pojarski, the Pamyat Merkuriya, the Mezen, the Syzran, the Griden, and the Gaidamak, all of which had taken part in the attack on Hull, while they had now been joined by the French battleships Masséna and Neptune, the small cruisers Cosamo, Desaix, D'Estaing, Coetlogon, and Lalande, the torpedo gunboats Iberville, Lance, Léger, and Fléche, and the gun-vessels Etoile, Fulton, Gabes, Sagittaire, and Vipère, with a large number of torpedo boats and "catchers," in addition to those which were at Hull.

As the vessels steamed onward at full speed, the people rushed from the pier back again into the town in wild disorder, while the Coastguard at Spanish Battery on the north shore of the estuary, having now discovered the presence of the menacing ships, at once telegraphed the intelligence up to Newcastle, where the most profound sensation was immediately caused. The news spread everywhere, and the people on the Tyneside knew that the hand of the oppressor was upon them.

Suddenly, without warning, smoke tumbled over the bows of the Lazare Carnot. There was a low boom, and one of the ponderous guns in her turret sent forth an enormous shell, which struck the battery at Trow Point, blowing away a portion of a wall.

A moment later the battery replied with their 9-tonners, sending forth shot after shot, most of which, however, ricochetted away over the glassy sea. It was the signal for a fight which quickly became desperate.

In a few moments half a dozen of the ships lay broadside on, and the great guns of the Masséna and Neptune, with those of four other vessels, opened a terrible fire upon the fort, casting their shells upon the British gunners with frightful effect.

In the battery the Armstrong disappearing guns were worked to their utmost capacity, and the shots of the defenders played havoc with the smaller craft, three torpedo boats and a "catcher" being sunk in as many minutes.

Meanwhile the Active, Bonaventure, Cambrian, Canada, and Archer of the Reserve Squadron, now on its way from the north of Scotland in consequence of orders from the Admiralty having reached it, rounded Sharpness Point, and steamed full upon the enemy's ships.

The conflict was fierce, but quickly ended.

Heavy fire was kept up from the fort at Tynemouth, from Spanish Battery, from Trow Battery, and from several new batteries with disappearing guns between the Groyne and the quarry at Trow, that had been constructed and manned since the mobilisation by Volunteers, consisting of the 1st Newcastle Volunteer Engineers, the 3rd Durham Volunteer Artillery, and the 4th Durham Light Infantry from Newcastle. Nevertheless the assistance received by the British ships from the land was of but little avail, for a Russian torpedo boat sent forth its messenger of death at the third-class cruiser Canada, blowing her up, while the engines of both the Active and Bonaventure were so seriously damaged as to be practically useless. Rapid signalling by the semaphore at Spanish Battery had placed the defenders on the alert, and although the British were suffering so heavily on account of their minority, still the enemy were everywhere feeling the effect of the hot and unexpected reception.

Before half an hour had passed two Russian gunboats had been torpedoed, and the French cruiser D'Estaing, having caught fire, was burning furiously, many of her crew perishing at their guns.

The Lazare Carnot and the Masséna, heedless of the fire from the shore, steamed at half speed across the estuary until they were opposite the Tynemouth Battery, when they suddenly opened fire, being quickly joined by six French and Russian cruisers. In the meantime the contact mines were being blown up by piquet boats, who, although suffering heavily from the fire from the shore, nevertheless continued their task. It was then seen how utterly inadequate were the defences of the Tyne, and what negligence had been displayed on the part of the War Office in not providing at Tynemouth adequate means of warding off or successfully coping with an attack.

From behind the tall grey lighthouse a few guns were thundering, but in face of the overwhelming force at sea it was but a sorry attempt. One shot from the battery severely damaged the superstructure of the Lazare Carnot, another cut through the funnel of the Neptune, carrying it away, and a third entering the magazine of one of the small cruisers caused it to explode with serious loss of life. Yet the devastating effect of the enemy's shells on the obsolete defences of Tynemouth was appalling.

Enclosed in the fortifications were the crumbling ruins of the ancient Priory, with its restored chapel, a graveyard, and an old Castle that had been converted into artillery barracks. As flame and smoke rushed continuously from the barbettes, turrets, and broadsides of the hostile ships, the shots brought down the bare, dark old walls of the Priory, and, crashing into the Castle, played havoc with the building. The lantern of the lighthouse, too, was carried away, probably by a shot flying accidentally wide, and every moment death and desolation was being spread throughout the fort. Such a magnificent natural position, commanding as it did the whole estuary of the Tyne, should have been rendered impregnable, yet, as it remained in 1894, so it stood on this fatal day, a typical example of War Office apathy and shortsightedness.

Its guns were a mere make-believe, that gave the place an appearance of strength that it did not possess. In the North Battery, on the left side, commanding a broad sweep of sea beyond Sharpness, only one gun, a 64-pounder, was mounted, the remaining five rotting platforms being unoccupied! At the extreme point, to command the mouth of the river, a single 5-tonner was placed well forward with great ostentation, its weight, calibre, and other details having been painted up in conspicuous white letters, for the delectation of an admiring public admitted to view the Priory. The South Battery, a trifle stronger, was, nevertheless, a sheer burlesque, its weakness being a disgrace to the British nation. In fact, in the whole of the battery the upper defences had long been known to experts to be obsolete, and the lower ones totally inadequate for the resistance they should have been able to offer.

Was it any wonder, then, that the shells of the enemy should cause such frightful destruction? Among the British artillerymen there was no lack of courage, for they exerted every muscle in their gallant efforts to repulse the foe. Yet, handicapped as they were by lack of efficient arms and properly constructed fortifications, their heroic struggles were futile, and they sacrificed their lives to no purpose. The deadly hail from the floating monsters swept away the whole of the ancient Priory walls, demolishing the old red brick barracks, blowing up the Castle gateway, wrecking the guardroom, and igniting the Priory Chapel. The loss of life was terrible, the whole of the men manning the 5-ton gun pointing seaward having been killed by a single shell that burst among them, while everywhere else men of the Royal Artillery, and those of the Tynemouth Volunteer Artillery, who were assisting, were killed or maimed by the incessant rain of projectiles.

Night clouds gathered black and threatening, and it appeared as if the enemy were carrying all before them. The French battleship Neptune, seeing the guns of all three batteries had been considerably weakened, was steaming slowly into the mouth of the Tyne, followed by the Russian cruiser Syzran, when suddenly two terrific explosions occurred, shaking both North and South Shields to their very foundations. High into the air the water rose, and it was then seen that two submarine mines had been exploded simultaneously by electric current from the Tynemouth Battery, and that both vessels had been completely blown up. Such was the force of the explosion, that the hull of the Neptune, a great armour-clad of over ten thousand tons, had been ripped up like paper, and of her crew scarcely a man escaped, while the cruiser had been completely broken in half, and many of her crew blown to atoms. Scarcely had this success of the defenders been realised when it was followed by another, for a second later a British torpedo boat succeeded in blowing up with all hands the French torpedo gunboat Lance.

These reverses, however, caused but little dismay among the invaders, for ere long the British cruisers had been driven off, the guns at Trow had been silenced, while those at Spanish Battery and Tynemouth could only keep up a desultory fire. Then, in the falling gloom, ship after ship, guided by foreign pilots, and carefully evading a number of hulks that had been placed near the estuary, entered the Tyne, pouring forth their heavy monotonous fire into North Shields and South Shields. Skilfully as the despairing defenders managed their submarine mines, they only succeeded in destroying three more of the enemy's ships, the French torpedo gunboats Iberville and Cassini and the cruiser Desaix, the crews perishing.

Not for a moment was there a cessation of the cannonade as the smaller ships of the enemy advanced up the river, and the damage wrought by their shells was enormous. Tynemouth had already suffered heavily, many of the streets being in flames. The tower of St. Saviour's Church had fallen, the conspicuous spire of the Congregational Chapel had been shot away, the Piers Office had been reduced to ruins, and the long building of the Royal Hotel completely wrecked. The houses facing Percy Park had in many cases been shattered, a shell exploding under the archway of the Bath Hotel had demolished it, and the handsome clock tower at the end of the road had been hurled down and scattered.