WILLIAM LE QUEUX: 15 Dystopian Novels & Espionage Thrillers (Illustrated Edition). William Le Queux
gave a good one of the barricade where I am stationed. The neighbourhood of the Elephant presents an unusual picture, for everywhere men are scrambling over the roofs, and windows of the houses are being half-covered with sheet iron, while here and there is seen protruding the muzzle of a Maxim.
“I hear on the best authority that explosives are already in position under all the bridges, ready to blow them up at any moment. Yesterday I went along to Southwark Bridge to see the defences there. They are really splendid. Before they can be taken by assault the loss of life must be appalling to the enemy. There are mines laid in front by which the Germans could be blown to atoms. Certainly our first line of defence is at least a reliable one. Now that Londoners have taken the law into their own hands, we may perhaps hope for some success. Our Army, our Navy, our War Office, our Admiralty, have proved themselves utterly incompetent.
“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