WILLIAM LE QUEUX: 15 Dystopian Novels & Espionage Thrillers (Illustrated Edition). William Le Queux
a successful attack was out of the question; while the Russian Mediterranean and Black Sea Fleets, the strength of which was considerable, were also known to be approaching for the purpose of co-operating with the French.
Notwithstanding the addition of three new battleships and two new cruisers to our force in the Mediterranean, the utter inadequacy of our Navy was still very apparent. For years the British public had demanded that a dozen more new battleships should be constructed in case of casualties, but these demands were unheeded, and during the three years that had passed we had lost our naval supremacy, for France and Russia combined were now considerably stronger. France alone had 150 fighting pennants available along her southern shores, against our 59; and the Tsar's ships were all strong, well-equipped, and armed with guns of the latest type.
As was feared from the outset, the Russian Black Sea Fleet had struck for the Suez Canal, England's highway to the East. Egypt, the Bosphorus, Gibraltar, and Tripoli in the grasp of the enemy, meant supremacy in the East, and a situation that would not be tolerated by either Italy or Austria. Therefore the British Admiral, recognising the seriousness of the situation, and having received instructions to return home and assist in the defence of Britain, mustered his forces and cleared for action. The events that occurred immediately afterwards are best related in the graphic and interesting narrative which was subsequently written to a friend by Captain Neville Reed of the great steel battleship Ramillies, and afterwards published, together with the accompanying sketch, in the Illustrated London News, as follows: —
"After leaving Malta, we rounded the Adventure Bank off the Sicilian coast, and headed due north past Elba and on to the Gulf of Genoa. From Spezia we received despatches, and after anchoring for twelve hours, — during which time we were busy completing our preparations, — sailed at midnight westward. Off St. Tropez, near the Hyères Islands, in obedience to signals from the flagship, the Empress of India, the ironclads Jupiter, Sans Pareil, Repulse, with the cruisers Edgar, Dido, Diana, Orlando, Undaunted, and Scout, the sloop Gannet, and five torpedo boats, detached themselves from the Squadron, and after exchanging further signals, bore away due south. Giving the shore a wide offing, we steamed along throughout the afternoon. The Mediterranean had not yet been the scene of any bloody or fatal conflict, but as we cut our way through the calm sunlit waters with a brilliant cerulean sky above, the contrast between our bright and lovely surroundings and the terrible realities of the situation during those breathless hours of suspense still dwells distinctly in my memory.
"It was our duty to fight the enemy, to beat him, and to pass through the Straits of Gibraltar and help our comrades at home. Every man, although totally unaware of his present destination, felt that at last the moment had come when the supreme ambition of his life was to be realised, and he was to strike a blow for his country's honour.
"Apparently our Admiral was in no hurry. He no doubt was awaiting events, for at sunset we lay-to about thirty miles south of La Ciotat, and spent the calm bright night restlessly anxious and keeping a sharp lookout for the enemy. There was a hush of expectation over the ship, and scarcely a sound broke the quiet save the lapping of the water against the smooth sides of the ironclad, and no sign of force except the swish of the waves falling on either side of the formidable and deadly ram.
"Just after seven bells in the morning watch, however, we resumed our voyage, and turning, went north again. Then, for the first time, we knew the Admiral's intentions. An ultimatum had already been given. We were to bombard Marseilles!
"Three hours later we came within view of the city. Seen from the sea it has a certain amount of picturesqueness. In the foreground there is the harbour, with a barren group of islands at its entrance, and behind masses of yellow houses covering an extensive valley, and white villas dotted over a semicircle of green hills stretching in the rear. Prominent in the landscape is the church of Nôtre Dame de la Garde, perched on the eminence on the right; while on the left there stands on an island the Château d'If, rendered immortal by the adventures of Monte Cristo; and behind, on the broad Quai de la Joliette, rises the fine Cathedral, built in alternate courses of black and white stone. It is a handsome and wealthy city, with its fine shady boulevard, the Cannebière running through its centre from the Arc de Triomphe right down to the old port whence the mail steamers depart. This city, teeming with life, it was our duty to lay in ruins!
"Knowing how strongly fortified it was, that upon each of those hills were great batteries ready at a given signal to pour out their deadly hail, and that under the blue waters were mines which might be exploded from the shore at any moment, we made preparations for counter-mining, and then cautiously approached within range. Suddenly, however, having got into position and laid our guns, we received the anxiously expected order, and a few moments later opened a terrific and almost simultaneous fire.
"Through my glass I could clearly distinguish the terrible confusion being caused in the streets as our shells fell and burst on the Quai de la Joliette, in the Cannebière, and the Boulevard de l'Empéreur.
"The first taste of our guns had produced a terrible panic, for a shell from the Dreadnought, lying next to us, had struck the tower of the Cathedral and brought down a great quantity of masonry, while another shell from one of our 67-ton guns, bursting in the Palais de Justice with terrible effect, had ignited it.
"It was our first shot, and the gun had been well sighted; but ere we fired again such a storm of shell burst upon us that I confess for a moment I stood in my conning-tower motionless in surprise. On all sides the French had apparently established batteries. From the great Fort St. Jean at the entrance to the port, and from the Batterie du Phare on the opposite side, flame and smoke belched from heavy guns continuously. From a small battery in the Château d'If, from another on the rocky promontory on the right known as the Edoume, from a number of smaller ones established on the hills of l'Oriol and the Citadel, as well as from the great fortress of Nôtre Dame de la Garde on the highest hill, a little to the right of the city, there came an incessant thunder, and dozens of shots ricochetted over the placid water towards us.
"In a few moments, however, my 67-tonners were again adding to the deafening roar, my ten 6-inch quick-firing guns were sending out their messengers of death, and my smaller arms, consisting of 3 and 16-pounders, were acting their part in the sudden outburst. We had attacked the town without intention of investment, but simply to destroy it, and as the minutes slipped by, and I peered through my glass, I could see how devastating were our enormous modern shells.
"All our guns were now trained upon the forts, and the bombardment was most vigorous. The six coast-defence ships, which endeavoured to drive us off, we quickly put out of action, capturing one, torpedoing two, and disabling the three others; while up to the present, although a number of shots from the land batteries had struck us, we sustained no serious damage.
"We were avenging Hull and Newcastle. Into the panic-stricken town we were pouring an unceasing storm of shell, which swept away whole streets of handsome buildings, and killed hundreds of those flying for safety into the country. Watching, I saw one shot from one of my bow barbette guns crash into the roof of the fine new Hôtel du Louvre, in the Cannebière. The French Tricolor on the flagstaff toppled over into the street, and a second later the clouds of smoke and the débris which shot up showed plainly the awful results of the bursting shell.
"Time after time my 67-tonners crashed and roared, time after time I pressed my fingers upon the little knobs in the conning-tower, and huge projectiles were discharged right into the forts. In conjunction with the never-ceasing fire of companion ships, we rained iron in a continuous stream that wrought havoc in the defences and destroyed all the buildings that offered targets. In an hour the Arsenal behind the Palais de Justice was laid in ruins, the fine Hôtel de Ville was a mere heap of smouldering débris, the Bourse, and the great Library in the Boulevard du Musée were half wrecked by shells, and the Custom House, the Gendarmerie, and the Prefecture were burning furiously. The Château du Phare on the headland at the entrance to the fort was suffering frightfully, and the shells that had struck the Citadel and the fort of Nôtre Dame had been terribly effective. Every part of the city from the Promenade du Prado to the Botanical Gardens was being swept continuously by our fire, and from the black smoke curling upward in the sunlight we knew that many broad handsome streets were