The Invasion of 1910

“By day and by night we guard our barricades. The life is an idle one, now that there is no further work to do. Imagine a huge wall erected right across the road from Tarn’s front to the public-house opposite, an obstruction composed of every conceivable object that might resist the German bullets, and with loopholes here and there to admit of our fire. Everything, from paving-stones torn up from the footpath to iron coal-scuttles, has been used in its construction, together with thousands of yards of barbed wire. Roughly, I believe that fully a thousand men are holding my own particular defence, every one of them members of this new League, which, encouraged and aided by Government, is making such rapid progress in every direction. Every man who stands shoulder to shoulder with me has sworn allegiance to King and Country, and will fight and die in the defence of the city he loves. During the past four days I have only been home once. Alas! my clean little home is now one of suffering and desolation. I cannot bear to hear the children cry for bread, so I now remain at my post, bearing my own humble part in the defence of London. The wife bears up in patience, as so many thousands of the good wives of humble folk are now doing. She is pale-faced and dark-eyed, for privation is fast telling upon her. Yet she uttered no word of complaint. She only asked me simply when this cruel war would end.

“When? Ay, when?

“It will end when we have driven the Germans back into the sea – when we have had blood for blood – when we have avenged the lives of those innocent Englishmen and Englishwomen who have been killed in Suffolk, Norfolk, Essex, and Yorkshire. Then the war will end – with victory for our dear old England.

“Of tobacco and drink there is still an abundance. Of the latter, alas, we see examples of its abuse every day. Men and women, deprived of food in many cases, have recourse to drink, with terrible effect. In every quarter, as one walks through South London, one sees riotous drunkenness, and often a lawlessness, which, if not put down by the people themselves, would quickly assume alarming proportions. There are no police now; but the Defenders act the part of officers of the law, and repress any acts of violence or riotous behaviour.

“A certain section of the public are, of course, in favour of stopping the war at all costs, and towards that end are continually holding meetings, and have even gone the length of burning the barricade outside the police station in Kennington Road. This shameful act was committed last night, and one of its perpetrators was, I hear, caught and promptly lynched by the infuriated mob. The barricade is now in rapid process of re-building. On every hand, horses – or the few that now remain in South London – are being killed and used as food. Even such meat as that is at a price almost prohibitive. This afternoon a company of military telegraph engineers came to our barricade, and established telephonic communication between us and the similar obstructions at London Bridge, and on our right in Great Dover Street. From one hour to another we never know when Von Kronhelm may give the order to attack the bridges, therefore through the whole twenty-four hours we have to be alert and watchful, even though we may smoke and gossip around our stacks of piled arms. When the conflict comes it will be a long and bloody one, that is certain. Not a man in South London will shirk his duty to the Empire. The future, whether England shall still remain Mistress of the World, lies with us. It is that important all-present fact that the League of Defenders is impressing upon us from all the hoardings, and it is also the fact which stimulates each one of us to bear our part in the defence of our homes and our loved ones.

“Germany shall yet rue the day when she launched her legions upon us.”

Life in London north of the Thames at that moment was more exciting than that within the fortress of South London. In the latter, everyone was waiting in hunger and patience the march of events, while north of the river the ever-present Germans in foraging parties were a constant source of annoyance and anger.

All roads leading into London from the west, right across from Hammersmith Bridge nearly to the Welsh Harp, were now heavily barricaded. More than once Von Kronhelm was inclined to forbid this, but the real fact was that he was pleased to allow the people some vent for their outraged feelings. Londoners declared that they would allow no more Germans to enter, and for that reason they were blocking the roads.

Had it not been for the fact that the bulk of London’s millions had been driven south of the Thames by the bombardment and subsequent street fighting, Von Kronhelm, with his men now seriously reduced, would have found himself in a very queer position.

As it was, London was, for him, a hornets’ nest.

The disposition of his troops was as follows: Along the northern heights of London was spread Frölich’s cavalry division. The IXth Corps from Essex, who were still practically fresh, were guarding the lines of communication to Southminster and Harwich; the Xth Corps were occupying the City proper, the IVth Corps were encamped in Hyde Park and held West London, the Garde Corps were holding the Regent’s Park neighbourhood, while the Saxons were outside London at Staines. From this latter quarter constant brushes with the British and with bodies of auxiliaries were being reported, and Staines Bridge had at last been blown up by the Germans.

Notwithstanding all Von Kronhelm’s cunning and diplomacy, London was nevertheless a city of growing unrest. Union Jacks still flew, though the Germans were on the alert everywhere, and the Daily Bulletin of the Defenders, encouraging the people of London to hold out, made its appearance upon hoardings and walls in every quarter. Many homeless people were living in the ruins of houses, but, alas, hardly living, such was the acute state of affairs. Daily the enemy distributed soup, but only in meagre quantities, for, truth to tell, the portion of the Metropolis under German rule was quite as badly off for food as the huge fortress across the Thames.

“Courage” was everywhere the Londoners’ watchword. A band of adventurous spirits, having captured a small party of German engineers in Pentonville Road as they were about to demolish some unsafe houses with explosives, seized the latter, and got safely away. The next day, the 26th, with great daring they made an attempt to blow up Von Kronhelm’s apartments in the new War Office.

The manner in which it was accomplished, it appears, was by two of the number obtaining German infantry uniforms – exactly how it is not stated, but probably from dead soldiers – of the regiment who were mounting guard in Whitehall. Thus disguised, they were enabled to pass the sentries, obtain access to the long corridor leading past the big room of the Commander-in-Chief, and there place the explosive already prepared in the form of a bomb fired by clockwork, just beside the door. They ran for their lives, and just succeeded in escaping when there was a terrific explosion, and the whole front behind those columns of the façade on the principal floor was blown, with its furniture, etc., out into Whitehall.

Four German clerks and a secretary were killed; but Von Kronhelm himself, who was believed to have been at work there, had, half an hour before, gone across the road to the Horse Guards.

The sensation caused among Londoners was enormous, for it was at first rumoured that Von Kronhelm had really been killed. Upon this there were wild demonstrations on the part of the more lawless section of the public, a section which was indeed increasing hourly. Even quiet, respectable citizens found their blood boiling when they gazed upon their wrecked homes and realised that their fortunes were ruined.

The explosion at Whitehall resulted in a most vigorous inquiry. The German Field-Marshal’s headquarters were removed to another portion of the building, and within an hour of the outrage the telegraph instrument – which had been blown to atoms – was replaced by another, and communication with Berlin re-established.

Most rigorous measures were now ordered to be taken for the preservation of law and order. That evening still another of those famous proclamations made its appearance, in which the regulations were repeated, and it was also ordered that in consequence of the outrage any person found in the possession of arms or of explosives was liable to be shot at sight and without any form of trial.

The vagabond part of London was, however, to the fore in giving the Germans all the trouble they could. As the soldiers patrolled the streets they were closely scanned, pointed at, hooted, and assailed with slang that they could not understand. Often the people, in order to show their antagonism, would post themselves in great numbers across a street, say, in Piccadilly, Oxford Street, or the Strand, and refuse to move, so that the troops, to avoid a collision, were obliged to go round by the side streets, amid the loud jeers of the populace.

Whenever a German flag was discovered, a piece of crape was tied to it, or it received some form of insult. The Germans went about with self-possession, even with bravado. In twos or threes they walked together, and seemed as safe as though they were in large numbers. Sometimes a mob of boys would follow, hooting, ridiculing them, and calling them by opprobrious epithets. Occasionally men and women formed around them in groups and engaged in conversation, while everywhere during that first week of the occupation the soldiers of the Kaiser were objects of great curiosity on the part of the alien rabble of the East End.

Hundreds upon hundreds of German workers from Whitechapel fraternised with the enemy, but woe betide them when the angry bands of Londoners watched and caught them alone afterwards. In dozens of cases they paid for their friendliness with the enemy with their lives.

From the confident tone of the Berlin Press, coupled with the actions of Von Kronhelm, it was quite plain to all the world that the German Emperor was now determined to take the utmost advantage of his success, and, having England in his power, to make her drink the cup of adversity to the very dregs.

Many a ghastly tale was now reaching London from West Middlesex. A party of eleven Frontiersmen, captured by the Saxons five miles north of Staines, were obliged to dig their own graves, and were then shot as they stood before them. Another terrible incident reported by a reliable war correspondent was that, as punishment for an attack on a requisitioning party, the entire town of Feltham had been put to the sword, even the children. Eighty houses were also burnt down. At Bedfont, too, a whole row of houses had been burned, and a dozen men and women massacred, because of a shot fired at a German patrol.

The German Army might possess many excellent qualities, but chivalry was certainly not among them. War with them was a business. When London fell there was no sentimental pity for it, but as much was to be made out of it as possible.

This was apparent everywhere in London. As soon as a German was quartered in a room his methods were piratical. The enemy looted everywhere, notwithstanding Von Kronhelm’s orders.

Gradually to the abyss of degradation was our country thus being brought. Where would it end?

England’s down-trodden millions were awaiting in starvation and patience the dawn of the Day of Revenge.

It now became known that the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs had sent to the British diplomatic agents abroad (with a view to its ultimate submittal to the various European Cabinets) a protest of the British Government against the bombardment of London.

CHAPTER XIII

REVOLTS IN SHOREDITCH AND ISLINGTON

On the night of the 27th September, a very serious conflict, entailing much loss of life on both the London civilian and German side, occurred at the point where Kingsland Road joins Old Street, Hackney Road, and High Street. Across both Hackney and Kingsland Roads the barricades built before the bombardment still remained in a half-ruined state, any attempt at clearing them away being repulsed by the angry inhabitants. Dalston, Kingsland, Bethnal Green, and Shoreditch were notably antagonistic to the invaders, and several sharp encounters had taken place. Indeed, those districts were discovered by the enemy to be very unsafe.

The conflict in question, however, commenced at the corner of Old Street at about 9.30 in the evening, by three German tailors from Cambridge Road being insulted by two men, English labourers. The tailors appealed in German to four Westphalian infantrymen who chanced to be passing, and who subsequently fired and killed one of the Englishmen. This was the signal for a local uprising. The alarm given, hundreds of men and women rushed from their houses, many of them armed with rifles and knives, and, taking cover behind the ruined barricades, opened fire upon a body of fifty Germans, who very quickly ran up. The fire was returned, when from the neighbouring houses a perfect hail of lead was suddenly rained upon the Germans, who were then forced to retire down High Street towards Liverpool Street Station, leaving many dead in the roadway.

Very quickly news was sent over the telephone, which the Germans had now established in many quarters of London, and large reinforcements were soon upon the scene. The men of Shoreditch had, however, obtained two Maxim guns, which had been secreted ever since the entry of the Germans into the Metropolis, and as the enemy endeavoured to storm their position they swept the street with a deadly fire. Quickly the situation became desperate, but the fight lasted over an hour. The sound of firing brought hundreds upon hundreds of Londoners upon the scene. All these took arms against the Germans, who, after many fruitless attempts to storm the defences, and being fired upon from every side, were compelled to fall back again.

They were followed along High Street into Bethnal Green Road, up Great Eastern Street into Hoxton Square and Pitfield Street, and there cut up, being given no quarter at the hands of the furious populace. In those narrow thoroughfares they were powerless, and were therefore simply exterminated, until the streets ran with blood.

The victory for the men of Shoreditch was complete, over three hundred and fifty Germans being killed, while our losses were only about fifty.

The conflict was at once reported to Von Kronhelm, and the very fact that he did not send exemplary punishment into that quarter was quite sufficient to show that he feared to arouse further the hornets’ nest in which he was living, and more especially that portion of the populace north of the City.

News of the attack, quickly spreading, inspired courage in every other part of the oppressed Metropolis.

The successful uprising against the Germans in Shoreditch incited Londoners to rebel, and in various other parts of the Metropolis, especially in Westbourne Grove, in Notting Hill, in Marylebone Road, and in Kingsland, there occurred outbreaks of a more or less serious nature.

Between invaders and defenders there was now constant warfare. Von Kronhelm had found to his cost that London was not to be so easily cowed, after all, notwithstanding his dastardly bombardment. The size and population of the Metropolis had not been sufficiently calculated upon. It was as a country in itself, while the intricacies of its by-ways formed a refuge for the conspirators, who were gradually completing their preparations to rise en masse and strike down the Germans wherever found. In the open country his great army could march, manœuvre, and use strategy, but here in the maze of narrow London streets it was impossible to know in one thoroughfare what was taking place in the next.

Supplies, too, were now running very short. The distress among our vanquished populace was most severe; while Von Kronhelm’s own army was put on meagre rations. The increasing price of food and consequent starvation had not served to improve the relations between the invaders and the citizens of London, who, though they were assured by various proclamations that they would be happier and more prosperous under German rule, now discovered that they were being slowly starved to death.

Their only hope, therefore, was in the efforts of that now gigantic organisation, the League of Defenders.

A revolt occurred in Pentonville Road, opposite King’s Cross Underground Station, which ended in a fierce and terrible fray. A company of the Bremen Infantry Regiment No. 75, belonging to the IXth Corps, were marching from the City Road towards Regent’s Park, when several shots were fired at them from windows of shops almost opposite the station. Five Germans fell dead, including one lieutenant, a very gorgeous person who wore a monocle. Another volley rang out before the infantrymen could realise what was happening, and then it was seen that the half-ruined shops had been placed in such a state of defence as to constitute a veritable fortress.

The fire was returned, but a few moments later a Maxim spat its deadly fire from a small hole in a wall, and a couple of dozen of the enemy fell upon the granite setts of the thoroughfare. The rattle of musketry quickly brought forth the whole of that populous neighbourhood – or all, indeed, that remained of them – the working-class district between Pentonville Road and Copenhagen Street. Notwithstanding the wreck of London, many of the poorer classes still clung to their own districts, and did not migrate with the middle and upper classes across the Thames.

Quickly the fight became general. The men of Bremen endeavoured to take the place by assault, but found that it was impossible. The strength of the defences was amazing, and showed only too plainly that Londoners were in secret preparing for the great uprising that was being planned. In such a position were the houses held by the Londoners, that their fire commanded both the Pentonville and King’s Cross Roads; but very soon the Germans were reinforced by another company of the same regiment, and these being attacked in the rear from Rodney Street, Cumming Street, Weston Street, York Street, Winchester Street, and other narrow turnings leading into the Pentonville Road, the fighting quickly became general.

The populace came forth in swarms, men and women, armed with any weapon or article upon which they could lay their hands, and all fired with the same desire.

And in many instances they succeeded, be it said. Hundreds of men who came forth were armed with rifles which had been carefully secreted on the entry of the enemy into the metropolis. The greater part of those men, indeed, had fought at the barricades in North London, and had subsequently taken part in the street fighting as the enemy advanced. Some of the arms had come from the League of Defenders, smuggled into the metropolis nobody exactly knew how. All that was known was that at the various secret headquarters of the League, rifles, revolvers, and ammunition were forthcoming, the majority of them being of foreign make, and some of them of a pattern almost obsolete.

Up and down the King’s Cross, Pentonville, and Caledonian Roads the crowd swayed and fought. The Germans against that overwhelming mass of angry civilians seemed powerless. Small bodies of the troops were cornered in the narrow by-streets, and then given no quarter. Brave-hearted Londoners, though they knew well what dire punishment they must inevitably draw upon themselves, had taken the law into their own hands, and were shooting or stabbing every German who fell into their hands.

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.