CHAPTER XXX.
ATTACK ON EDINBURGH
In attacking Edinburgh the besiegers at once discovered they had a much more difficult task than they had anticipated. The Russian onslaught had been carefully planned. Landing just before dawn, the 1st Corps, consisting of about twenty thousand men, marched direct to Glasgow by way of South Queensferry and Kirkliston, and through Linlithgow, sacking and burning all three towns in the advance.
The 3rd Army Corps succeeded, after some very sharp skirmishing, in occupying the Pentland Hills, in order to protect the flanks of the first force, while a strong detachment was left behind to guard the base at Leith. The 2nd Corps meanwhile marched direct upon Edinburgh.
The defenders, consisting of Militia, Infantry, Artillery, the local Volunteers left behind during the mobilisation, and a large number of civilians from the neighbouring towns, who had hastily armed on hearing the alarming news, were quickly massed in three divisions on the Lammermuir Hills, along the hills near Peebles, and on Tinto Hill, near Lanark.
The Russian army corps which marched from Leith upon Edinburgh about seven o'clock on the following morning met with a most desperate resistance. On Arthur's Seat a strong battery had been established by the City of Edinburgh Artillery, under Col. J. F. Mackay, and the 1st Berwickshire, under Col. A. Johnston; and on the higher parts of the Queen's Drive, overlooking the crooked little village of Duddingston, guns of the 1st Forfarshire, under Col. Stewart-Sandeman, V.D., flashed and shed forth torrents of bullets and shell, which played havoc with the enemy's infantry coming up the Portobello and Musselburgh roads. Batteries on the Braid and Blackford Hills commanded the southern portion of the city; while to the west, the battery on Corstorphine Hill prevented the enemy from pushing along up the high road from Granton.
Between Jock's Lodge and Duddingston Mills the Russians, finding cover, commenced a sharp attack about nine o'clock; but discovering, after an hour's hard fighting, that to attempt to carry the defenders' position was futile, they made a sudden retreat towards Niddry House.
The British commander, observing this, and suspecting their intention to make a circuit and enter the city by way of Newington, immediately set his field telegraph to work, and sent news on to the infantry brigade at Blackford.
This consisted mainly of the Queen's Volunteer Rifle Brigade (Royal Scots), under Col. T. W. Jones, V.D.; the 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th Volunteer Battalions of the Royal Scots, under Col. W. U. Martin, V.D., Col. W. I. Macadam, Col. Sir G. D. Clerk, Col. P. Dods, and Col. G. F. Melville respectively, with a company of engineers. The intelligence they received placed them on the alert, and ere long the enemy extended his flank in an endeavour to enter Newington. The bridges already prepared for demolition by the defenders were now promptly blown up, and in the sharp fight that ensued the enemy were repulsed with heavy loss.
Meanwhile the formidable division of the 3rd Russian Army Corps guarding the base at Leith had attacked the Corstorphine position, finding their headquarters untenable under its fire, and although losing several guns and a large number of men, they succeeded, after about an hour's hard fighting, in storming the hill and sweeping away the small but gallant band of defenders.
The fight was long. It was a struggle to the death. Over the whole historic battle-ground from the Tweed to the Forth, fighting spread, and everywhere the loss of life was terrible.
The long autumn day passed slowly, yet hostilities continued as vigorous and sanguinary as they had begun. Before the sun sank many a brave Briton lay dead or dying, but many more Muscovites had been sent to that bourne whence none return.
As it was, the British line of communications was broken between Temple and Eddleston, the outposts at the latter place having been surprised and slaughtered. But although the enemy strove hard to break down the lines of defence and invest Edinburgh, yet time after time they were hurled back with fearful loss. Colinton and Liberton were sacked and burned by the Tsar's forces. On every hand the Russians spread death and destruction; still the defenders held their own, and when the fighting ceased after nightfall Edinburgh was still safe. Strong barricades manned by civilians had been hastily thrown up near the station in Leith Walk, in London Road opposite the Abbey Church, in Inverleith Row, in Clerk Street and Montague Street, while all the bridges over the Water of Leith had been blown up with gun-cotton; quick-firing guns had been posted on Calton Hill and at the Castle, while in St. Andrew's Square a battery had been established by the 1st Haddington Volunteer Artillery, under Major J. J. Kelly, who had arrived in haste from Dunbar, and this excellent position commanded a wide stretch of country away towards Granton.
At dead of night, under the calm, bright stars, a strange scene might have been witnessed. In the deep shadow cast by the wall of an old and tumble-down barn near the cross-roads at Niddry, about three miles from Edinburgh, two Russian infantry officers were in earnest conversation. They stood leaning upon a broken fence, talking in a half-whisper in French, so that the half-dozen privates might not understand what they said. The six men were busy unpacking several strange black cases, handling the contents with infinite care. Apparently three of the boxes contained a quantity of fine silk, carefully folded, while another contained a number of square, dark-looking packages, which, when taken out, were packed in order upon a strong net which was first spread upon the grass. Ropes were strewn over the ground in various directions, the silk was unfolded, and presently, when all the contents had been minutely inspected by the two officers with lanterns, a small tube was taken from a box that had remained undisturbed, and fastened into an object shaped like a bellows.
Then, when all preparations were satisfactorily completed, the six men threw themselves upon the grass to snatch an hour's repose, while the officers returned to their previous positions, leaning against the broken fence, and gravely discussing their proposals for the morrow's gigantic sensation. The elder of the two was explaining to his companion the nature of the coup which they intended to deliver, and the mode in which it would be made. So engrossed were they in the contemplation of the appalling results that would accrue, they did not observe that they were standing beneath a small square hole in the wall of the barn; neither did they notice that from this aperture a dark head protruded for a second and then quick as lightning withdrew. It was only like a shadow, and disappeared instantly!
Ten minutes later a mysterious figure was creeping cautiously along under the hedge of the high road to Newington in the direction of the British lines. Crawling along the grass, and pausing now and then with his ear to the ground, listening, he advanced by short, silent stages, exercising the greatest caution, well aware that death would be his fate should he be discovered. In wading the Braid Burn he almost betrayed himself to a Russian sentry; but at last, after travelling for over an hour, risking discovery at any moment, he at length passed the British outposts beyond Liberton, and ascended the Braid Hills to the headquarters.
The story he told the General commanding was at first looked upon as ludicrous. In the dim candlelight in the General's tent he certainly looked a disreputable derelict, his old and tattered clothes wet through, his hands cut by stones and bleeding, and his face half covered with mud. The three officers who were with the General laughed when he dashed in excitedly, and related the conversation he had overheard; yet when he subsequently went on to describe in detail what he had witnessed, and when they remembered that this tramp was an artilleryman who had long ago been conspicuous by his bravery at El Teb, and an ingenious inventor, their expression of amusement gave way to one of alarm.
The General, who had been writing, thoughtfully tapped the little camp table before him with his pen. "So they intend to destroy us and wreck the city by that means, now that their legitimate tactics have failed! I can scarcely credit that such is their intention; yet if they should be successful – if" —
"But they will not be successful, sir. If you will send some one to assist me, and allow me to act as I think fit, I will frustrate their dastardly design, and the city shall be saved."
"You are at liberty to act as you please. You know their plans, and I have perfect confidence in you, Mackenzie," replied the officer. "Do not, however, mention a word of the enemy's intention to any one. It would terrify the men; and although I do not doubt their bravery, yet the knowledge of such a horrible fate hanging over them must necessarily increase their anxiety, and thus prevent them from doing their best. We are weak, but remember we are all Britons. Now come," he added, "sit there, upon that box, and explain at once what is your scheme of defence against this extraordinary attack."
And the fearless man to whom the General had entrusted the defence of Edinburgh obeyed, and commenced to explain what means he intended to take – a desperate but well-devised plan, which drew forth words of the highest commendation from the commanding officer and those with him. They knew that the fate of Edinburgh hung in the balance, and that if the city were taken it would be the first step towards their downfall.
CHAPTER XXXI.
"THE DEMON OF WAR."
Two hours later, just before the break of day, British bugles sounded, and the camp on the Braid Hills was immediately astir. That the enemy were about to test the efficiency of a new gigantic engine of war was unknown except to the officers and the brave man who had risked his life in order to obtain the secret of the foeman's plans.
To him the British General was trusting, and as with knit brows and anxious face the grey-haired officer stood at the door of his tent gazing across the burn to Blackford Hill, he was wondering whether he had yet obtained his coign of vantage. From the case slung round his shoulder he drew his field glasses and turned them upon a clump of trees near the top of the hill, straining his eyes to discover any movement.
On the crest of the hill two Volunteer artillery batteries were actively preparing for the coming fray, but as yet it was too dark to discern anything among the distant clump of trees; so, replacing his glasses, the commanding officer re-entered his tent and bent for a long time over the Ordnance Map under the glimmering, uncertain light of a guttering candle.
Meanwhile the Russians were busily completing their arrangements for striking an appalling blow.
Concealed by a line of trees and a number of farm buildings, the little section of the enemy had worked indefatigably for the past two hours, and now in the grey dawn the contents of the mysterious boxes, a long dark monster, lay upon the grass, moving restlessly, trying to free itself from its trammels.
It was a huge and curiously-shaped air-ship, and was to be used for dropping great charges of mélinite and steel bombs filled with picric acid into the handsome historic city of Edinburgh! Some of the shells were filled with sulphurous acid, carbon dioxide, and other deadly compounds, the intent being to cause suffocation over wide areas by the volatilisation of liquid gases!
This controllable electric balloon, a perfection of M. Gaston Tissandier's invention a few years before, was, as it lay upon the grass, nearly inflated and ready to ascend, elongated in form, and filled with hydrogen.
It was about 140 feet long, 63 feet in diameter through the middle, and the envelope was of fine cloth coated with an impermeable varnish. On either side were horizontal shafts of flexible walnut laths, fastened with silk belts along the centre, and over the balloon a netting of ribbons was placed, and to this the car was connected. On each of the four sides was a screw propeller 12 feet in diameter, driven by bichromate of potassium batteries and a dynamo-electric motor. The propellers were so arranged that the balloon could keep head to a hurricane, and when proceeding with the wind would deviate immediately from its course by the mere pulling of a lever by the aëronaut.
Carefully packed in the car were large numbers of the most powerful infernal machines, ingeniously designed to effect the most awful destruction if hurled into a thickly-populated centre. Piled in the smallest possible compass were square steel boxes, some filled with mélinite, dynamite, and an explosive strongly resembling cordite, only possessing twice its strength, each with fulminating compounds, while others contained picric acid fitted with glass detonating tubes. Indeed, this gigantic engine, which might totally wreck a city and kill every inhabitant in half an hour while at an altitude of 6½ miles, had rightly been named by the Pole who had perfected Tissandier's invention – "The Demon of War."
While the two officers of the Russian balloon section, both experienced aëronauts, were finally examining minutely every rope, ascertaining that all was ready for the ascent, away on Blackford Hill one man, pale and determined, with coat and vest thrown aside, was preparing a counterblast to the forthcoming attack. Under cover of the clump of trees, but with its muzzle pointing towards Bridgend, a long, thin gun of an altogether strange type had been brought into position. It was about four times the size of a Maxim, which it resembled somewhat in shape, only the barrel was much longer, the store of ammunition being contained in a large steel receptacle at the side, wherein also was some marvellously-contrived mechanism. The six gunners who were assisting Mackenzie at length completed their work, and the gun having been carefully examined by the gallant man in charge and two of the officers who had been in the tent with the General during the midnight consultation, Mackenzie, with a glance in the yet hazy distance where the enemy had bivouaced, pulled over a small lever, which immediately started a dynamo.
"In three minutes we shall be ready for action," he said, glancing at his watch; and then, turning a small wheel which raised the muzzle of the gun so as to point it at a higher angle in the direction of the sky, he waited until the space of time he had mentioned had elapsed.
The officers stood aside conversing in an undertone. This man Mackenzie had invented this strange-looking weapon, and only one had been made. It had some months before been submitted to the War Office, but they had declined to take it up, believing that a patent they already possessed was superior to it; yet Mackenzie had nevertheless thrown his whole soul into his work, and meant now to show his superiors its penetrative powers, and put its capabilities to practical test. Again he glanced at his watch, and quickly pulled back another lever, which caused the motor to revolve at twice the speed, and the gun to emit a low hissing sound, like escaping steam. Then he stepped back to the officers, saying —
"I am now prepared. It will go up as straight and quickly as a rocket, but we must catch it before it ascends two miles, for the clouds hang low, and we may lose it more quickly than we imagine."
The gunners stood in readiness, and the two officers looked away over Craigmillar towards the grey distant sea. Dawn was spreading now, and the haze was gradually clearing. They all knew the attempt would be made ere long, before it grew much lighter, so they stood at their posts in readiness, Mackenzie with his hand upon the lever which would regulate the discharge.
They were moments of breathless expectancy. Minute after minute went by, but not a word was spoken, for every eye was turned upon the crest of a certain ridge nearly three miles away, at a point where the country was well wooded.
A quarter of an hour had thus elapsed, when Mackenzie suddenly shouted, "Look, lads! There she goes! Now, let's teach 'em what Scots can do."
As he spoke there rose from behind the ridge a great dark mass, looking almost spectral in the thin morning mist. For a moment it seemed to poise and swing as if uncertain in its flight, then quickly it shot straight up towards the sky.
"Ready?" shouted Mackenzie, his momentary excitement having given place to great coolness. The men at their posts all answered in the affirmative. Mackenzie bent and waited for a few seconds sighting the gun, while the motor hummed with terrific speed. Then shouting "Fire!" he drew back the lever.
The gun discharged, but there was no report, only a sharp hiss as the compressed air released commenced to send charge after charge of dynamite automatically away into space in rapid succession!
None dared to breathe. The excitement was intense. They watched the effect upon the Russian balloon, but to their dismay saw it still rapidly ascending and unharmed!
It had altered its course, and instead of drifting away seaward was now travelling towards Duddingston, and making straight for Edinburgh, passing above the Russian camp.
"Missed! missed!" Mackenzie shrieked, turning back the lever and arresting the discharge. "It's four miles off now, and we can carry seven and three-quarters to hit a fixed object. Remember, lads, the fate of Auld Reekie is now in your hands! Ready?"
Again he bent and sighted the gun, raising the muzzle higher than the balloon so as to catch it on the ascent. The motor hummed louder and louder, the escaping air hissed and turned into liquid by the enormous pressure, then with a glance at the gauge he yelled "Fire!" and pulled back the lever.
Dynamite shells, ejected at the rate of 50 a minute, rushed from the muzzle, and sped away.
But the Demon of War, with its whirling propellers, continued on its swift, silent mission of destruction.
"Missed again!" cried one of the men, in despair. "See! it's gone! We've – good heavens! —why, we've lost it – lost it!"
Mackenzie, who had been glancing that moment at the gauges, gazed eagerly up, and staggered back as if he had received a blow. "It's disappeared!" he gasped. "They've outwitted us, the brutes, and nothing now can save Edinburgh from destruction!"
Officers and men stood aghast, with blanched faces, scarce knowing how to act. The destructive forces in that controllable balloon were more than sufficient to lay the whole of Edinburgh in ruins; and then, no doubt, the enemy would attempt by the same means to destroy the British batteries on the neighbouring hills. Already, along the valleys fighting had begun, for rapid firing could be heard in the direction of Gilmerton, and now and then the British guns on the Braid Hills behind spoke out sharply to the Russians who had occupied Loanhead, and the distant booming of cannon could be heard incessantly from Corstorphine.
Suddenly a loud, exultant cry from Mackenzie caused his companions to strain their eyes away to Duddingston, and there they saw high in the air the monster aërial machine gradually looming through the mist, a vague and shadowy outline. It had passed through a bank of cloud, and was gradually reappearing.
"Quick! There's not a moment to lose!" shrieked Mackenzie, springing to the lever with redoubled enthusiasm, an example followed by the others.
The motor revolved so rapidly that it roared, the gauges ran high, the escaping air hissed so loudly that Mackenzie was compelled to shout at the top of his voice "Ready?" as for a third time he took careful aim at the misty object now six miles distant.
The War Demon was still over the Russian camp, and in a few moments, travelling at that high rate of speed, it would pass over Arthur's Seat, and be enabled to drop its deadly compounds in Princes Street. But Mackenzie set his teeth, and muttered something under his breath.
"Now!" he ejaculated, as he suddenly pulled the lever, and for the last time sent forth the automatic shower of destructive shells.
A second later there was a bright flash from above as if the sun itself had burst, and then came a most terrific explosion, which caused the earth to tremble where they stood. The clouds were rent asunder by the frightful detonation, and down upon the Russian camp the débris of their ingenious invention fell in a terrible death-dealing shower. The annihilation of the dastardly plot to wreck the city was complete. Small dynamite shells from Mackenzie's pneumatic gun had struck the car of the balloon, and by the firing of half a ton of explosives the enemy was in an instant hoist with his own petard.
As the débris fell within the Russian lines, some fifty or sixty picric-acid bombs – awful engines of destruction – which had not been exploded in mid-air, crashed into the Muscovite ranks, and, bursting, killed and wounded hundreds of infantrymen and half a regiment of Cossacks. One, bursting in the enemy's headquarters, seriously injured several members of the staff; while another, falling among the Engineers' transport, exploded a great quantity of gun-cotton, which in its turn killed a number of men and horses.
The disaster was awful in its suddenness, appalling in its completeness. The aëronauts, totally unprepared for such an attack, had been blown to atoms just when within an ace of success.
Fortune had favoured Britain, and, thanks to Mackenzie's vigilance and his pneumatic dynamite gun, which the Government had rejected as a worthless weapon, the grey old city of Edinburgh was still safe.
But both Russians and Britons had now mustered their forces, and this, the first note sounded of a second terrific and desperately-fought battle, portended success for Britain's gallant army.
Yet notwithstanding the disaster the enemy sustained by the blowing up of their balloon, their 2nd Army Corps, together with the portion of the 3rd Army Corps operating from their base at Leith, succeeded, after terribly hard fighting and heavy losses, in at length forcing back the defenders from the Braid and Blackford Hills, and the Corstorphine position having already been occupied, they were then enabled to invest Edinburgh. That evening fierce sanguinary fights took place in the streets, for the people held the barricades until the last moment, and the batteries on Calton Hill, in St. Andrew's Square, and at the Castle effected terrible execution in conjunction with those on Arthur's Seat. Still the enemy by their overwhelming numbers gradually broke down these defences, and, after appalling slaughter on both sides, occupied the city. The fighting was fiercest along Princes Street, Lothian Road, and in the neighbourhood of Scotland Street Station, while along Cumberland and Great King Streets the enemy were swept away in hundreds by British Maxims brought to bear from Drummond Place. Along Canongate from Holyrood to Moray House, and in Lauriston Place and the Grassmarket, hand-to-hand struggles took place between the patriotic civilians and the foe. From behind their barricades men of Edinburgh fought valiantly, and everywhere inflicted heavy loss; still the enemy, pressing onward, set fire to a number of public buildings, including the Register Office, the Royal Exchange, the University, the Liberal and New Clubs, and Palace Hotel, with many other buildings in Princes Street. The fires, which broke out rapidly in succession, were caused for the purpose of producing a panic, and in this the enemy were successful, for the city was quickly looted, and the scenes of ruin, death, and desolation that occurred in its streets that night were awful.
In every quarter the homes of loyal Scotsmen were entered by the ruthless invader, who wrecked the cherished household gods, and carried away all the valuables that were portable. Outrage and murder were rife everywhere, and no quarter was shown the weak or unprotected. Through the streets the invader rushed with sword and firebrand, causing destruction, suffering, and death.
The defenders, though straining every nerve to stem the advancing tide, had, alas! been unsuccessful, and ere midnight Edinburgh, one of the proudest and most historic cities in the world, had fallen, and the British standard floating over the Castle was, alas! replaced by the Eagle of the Russian Autocrat.