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.
Slackening opposite the Scarp, the gunboats and cruisers belched forth shot and shell upon North Shields, aiming first at the more conspicuous objects, such as the Sailors' Home, the Custom House, the tall tower of Christ Church, and the Harbour Master's office, either totally destroying them or injuring them irreparably, while the houses on Union Quay and those in Dockway Square and in adjoining streets, from the gasometers down to the Town Hall, were also swept by shells. Resistance was made from Fort Clifford on the one side of the town, from a position occupied by a battery of the Durham Volunteer Artillery, who had mounted guns on the hill behind Smith's Yard, and also by the submarine mines of the Tyne Division Volunteer Miners; but it was most ineffectual, and, when night fell, hundreds of terror-stricken persons had been killed, and the town was on fire in dozens of places, the flames illuminating the sky with their lurid brilliancy.
In South Shields tragic scenes were being enacted. Shells flying about the town from the river on the one side and the sea on the other exploded in the streets, blowing unfortunate men, women, and children into atoms, wrecking public buildings, and setting fire to the cherished homes of the toilers. The congested blocks of buildings around Panash Point were one huge furnace; the Custom House, the River Police Station, and the Plate Glass Works were wrecked, while a shell exploding in one of the petroleum tanks on the Commissioners' Wharf caused it to burst with fearful effect. The queer old turret of St. Hilda's fell with a crash, the Church of St. Stephen was practically demolished, and the school in the vicinity unroofed. The dome of the Marine School was carried bodily away; nothing remained standing of the Wouldhave Memorial Clock but a few feet of the square lower structure, and the Ingham Infirmary being set on fire, several of the patients lost their lives. Amid this frightful panic, Lieut. – Col. Gowans and Major Carr of the 3rd Durham Artillery, the Mayor, Mr. Readhead, Alderman Rennoldson, Councillors Lisle, Marshall, and Stainton, the Town Clerk, Mr. Hayton, and the Rev. H. E. Savage, were all conspicuous for the coolness they displayed. Courage, however, was unavailing, for South Shields was at the mercy of the invaders, and all defence was feeble and futile. Hundreds of the townspeople were killed by flying fragments of shells, hundreds more were buried in the débris of tottering buildings, while those who survived fled horror-stricken with their valuables away into the country, beyond the range of the enemy's fire.
The horrors of Hull were being repeated. The streets ran with the life-blood of unoffending British citizens.
As evening wore on, the invaders came slowly up the Tyne, heedless of the strenuous opposition with which they were met by Volunteer Artillery, who, having established batteries on various positions between Shields and Newcastle, poured a hot fire upon them. Advancing, their terrible guns spread death and destruction on either bank.
The crowds of idle shipping in the great Tyne Dock at South Shields, and those in the Albert Edward and Northumberland Docks on the north bank, together with the staiths, warehouses, and offices, were blazing furiously, while the Tyne Commissioners' great workshops, Edwards' Shipbuilding Yard, and many other factories and shipbuilding yards, were either set on fire or seriously damaged.
Many of the affrighted inhabitants of North Shields sought refuge in the railway tunnel, and so escaped, but hundreds lost their lives in the neighbourhood of Wallsend and Percy Main.
Shells fell in Swinburne's brass foundry at Carville, destroying the buildings, together with the Carville Hotel and the railway viaduct between that place and Howdon.
The Wallsend Railway Station and the Theatre of Varieties were blown to atoms, and the houses both at High and Low Walker suffered severely, while opposite at Jarrow enormous damage was everywhere caused. At the latter place the 1st Durham Volunteer Engineers rendered excellent defensive service under Lieut. – Col. Price and Major Forneaux, and the Mayor was most energetic in his efforts to insure the safety of the people. A submarine mine had been laid opposite Hebburn, and, being successfully exploded, blew to atoms the French gunboat Gabes, and at the same time seriously injured the propeller of the cruiser Cosamo. This vessel subsequently broke down, and a second mine fired from the shore destroyed her also. Nevertheless the invaders steadily advanced up the broad river, blowing up obstacles, dealing decisive blows, and destroying human life and valuable property with every shot from their merciless weapons.
The panic that night in Newcastle was terrible. The streets were in a turmoil of excitement, for the reports from Tynemouth had produced the most intense alarm and dismay. On receipt of the first intelligence the Free Library Committee of the City Council happened to be sitting, and the chairman, Alderman H. W. Newton, the popular representative of All Saints' North, formally announced it to his colleagues, among whom was the Mayor. The committee broke up in confusion, and an excited consultation followed, in which Councillors Durnford, Fitzgerald, and Flowers, with Alderman Sutton, took part. Capt. Nicholls, the Chief Constable, Major A. M. Potter of the 1st Northumberland Artillery, Lieut. – Col. Angus of the 1st Newcastle Volunteer Artillery, Lieut. – Col. Palmer and Major Emley of the Volunteer Engineers, Mr. Hill Motum, and Mr. Joseph Cowen also entered the room and engaged in the discussion.
At such a hasty informal meeting, nothing, however, could be done. The Mayor and Councillors were assured by the Volunteer officers that everything possible under the circumstances had been arranged for the defence of the Tyne. Property worth millions was at stake, and now that the news had spread from mouth to mouth the streets around the Town Hall were filled with crowds of excited, breathless citizens, anxious to know what steps were being taken to insure their protection.
So loudly did they demand information, that the Mayor was compelled to appear for a moment and address a few words to them, assuring them that arrangements had been made which he hoped would be found adequate to repel the foe. This appeased them in a measure, and the crowd dispersed; but in the other thoroughfares the excitement was intensified, and famished thousands rushed aimlessly about, many going out upon the High Level and Low Level Bridges and straining their eyes down the river in endeavour to catch a glimpse of the enemy.
Heavy and continuous firing could be heard as the dark evening dragged on, and presently, just before nine o'clock, the anxious ones upon the bridges saw the flash of guns as the invading vessels rounded the sharp bend of the river at the ferry beyond Rotterdam Wharf.
The sight caused the people to rush panic-stricken up into the higher parts of Newcastle or across the bridges into Gateshead, and from both towns a rapid exodus was taking place, thousands fleeing into the country. From gun-vessels, torpedo gunboats, and cruisers, shot and shell poured in continuous streams into the wharves, shipping, and congested masses of houses on either bank.
The houses along City Road, St. Lawrence Road, Quality Row, and Byker Bank, on the outskirts of Newcastle, suffered severely, while shots damaged the great Ouseburn Viaduct, wrecked St. Dominic's Roman Catholic Chapel, and blew away the roof of the new Board School, a prominent feature of the landscape.
Several shells fell and exploded in Jesmond Vale. One burst and set fire to the Sandyford Brewery, and one or two falling in Portland Road caused widespread destruction and terrible loss of life. The London and Hamburg Wharves, with the shipping lying near, were soon blazing furiously, and all along Quay Side, right up to the Guildhall, shops and offices were every moment being destroyed and swept away. New Greenwich and South Shore on the Gateshead side were vigorously attacked, and many shots fired over the Salt Marshes fell in the narrow thoroughfares that lie between Sunderland Road and Brunswick Street.
Upon the enemy's ships the Volunteer batteries on the commanding positions on either side of the high banks poured a galling fire, one battery at the foot of the Swing Bridge on the Gateshead side effecting terrible execution. Their guns had been well laid, and the salvoes of shell played about the French gun-vessels and torpedo boats, causing frightful destruction among the crews. Both Newcastle and Gateshead, lying so much higher than the river, were in a certain measure protected, and the high banks afforded a wide command over the waterway. At various points, including the entrances to the High Level Bridge, at the Side, the Close, New Chatham, and the Rabbit Banks, the Volunteers had opened fire, and were keeping up a terrible cannonade. The dark river reflected the red light which flashed forth every moment from gun muzzles, while search-lights from both ships and shore were constantly streaming forth, and the thunder of war shook the tall factory chimneys to their very foundations.
Heedless of the strenuous opposition, the invading ships kept up a vigorous fire, which, aimed high, fell in the centre of Newcastle with most appalling effect. In the midst of the crowds in Newgate and Pilgrim Streets shells exploded, blowing dozens of British citizens to atoms and tearing out the fronts of shops. One projectile, aimed at the strangely shaped tower of St. Nicholas' Cathedral, struck it, and swept away the thin upper portion, and another, crashing into the sloping roof of the grim, time-mellowed relic Black Gate, shattered it, and tore away part of the walls.
The old castle and the railway bridge were also blown up in the earlier stages of the bombardment, and the square tower of St. John's fell with a sudden crash right across the street, completely blocking it. From end to end Grainger Street was swept by French mélinite shells, which, bursting in rapid succession, filled the air with tiny flying fragments, each as fatal as a bullet fired from a rifle. The French shell is much more formidable than ours, for, while the latter breaks into large pieces, the former is broken up into tiny and exceedingly destructive fragments.
In the midst of this terrible panic a shot cut its way through the Earl Grey Monument, causing it to fall, many persons being crushed to death beneath the stones, while both the Central Exchange and the Theatre Royal were now alight, shedding a brilliant glare skyward.
At this time, too, the whole of Quay Side was a mass of roaring, crackling flames, the thin spire of St. Mary's Roman Catholic Cathedral had been shot away, Bainbridge's great emporium was blazing furiously, and the Art Club premises had taken fire. One shot had fallen at the back of the Town Hall, and torn an enormous hole in the wall, while another, entering the first floor of the County Hotel, had burst with awful force, and carried away the greater part of its gloomy façade.
In the Central Station opposite, dozens of shells had exploded, and it was now on fire, hopelessly involved together with the adjoining Station Hotel. The grey front of the imposing Chronicle building had been wrecked by a shell that had descended upon the roof, and a row of dark old-fashioned houses in Eldon Square had been demolished.
The same fate had been shared by the Co-operative Wholesale Society's warehouse, the Fish Market, the Journal office, and both the Crown and Métropole Hotels at the bottom of Clayton Street.
Yet the firing continued; the terrified citizens were granted no quarter. The Royal Arcade was blown to atoms, the new red brick buildings of the Prudential Assurance Company were set on fire, and were blazing with increasing fury. The building of the North British and Mercantile Assurance Company, the Savings Bank at the corner of Newgate Street, and the Empire Theatre were wrecked. Along New Bridge Street dozens of houses were blown to pieces, several fine residences in Ellison Place were utterly demolished and blocked the roadway with their débris, and the whole city, from the river up to Brandling Village, was swept time after time by salvoes of devastating shots. Rows of houses fell, and in hundreds the terrified people were massacred. Away over the Nun's Moor shells were hurled and burst, and others were precipitated into the great Armstrong works at Elswick.
Suddenly, in the midst of the incessant thunder, a series of terrific explosions occurred, and the great High Level Bridge collapsed, and fell with an awful crash into the Tyne. The enemy had placed dynamite under the huge brick supports, and blown them up simultaneously. A few moments later the Swing Bridge was treated in similar manner; but the enemy, under the galling fire from the Volunteer batteries, were now losing frightfully. Many of the new guns at the Elswick works were brought into action, and several ironclads in the course of construction afforded cover to those desperately defending their homes.
But this blow of the invaders had been struck at a most inopportune moment, and was evidently the result of an order that had been imperfectly understood. It caused them to suffer a greater disaster than they had anticipated. Six torpedo boats and two gun-vessels had passed under the bridge, and, lying off the Haughs, were firing into the Elswick works at the moment when the bridges were demolished, and the débris, falling across the stream, cut off all means of escape.
The defenders, noticing this, worked on, pounding away at the hostile craft with merciless monotony, until one after another the French and Russians were blown to atoms, and their vessels sank beneath them into the dark, swirling waters.
While this was proceeding, two mines, one opposite Hill Gate, at Gateshead, and the other near the Rotterdam Wharf, on the Newcastle side, were fired by the Volunteer Engineers, who thus succeeded in blowing up two more French gunboats, while the battery at the foot of the Swing Bridge sank two more torpedo boats, and that in front of the Chemical Works at Gateshead sent a shell into the "vitals" of one of the most powerful torpedo gunboats, with the result that she blew up.
Everywhere the enemy were being cut to pieces.
Seeing the trap into which their vessels had fallen above the ruined bridges, and feeling that they had caused sufficient damage, they turned, and with their guns still belching forth flame, steamed at half speed back again towards the sea.
But they were not allowed to escape so easily, for the mines recently laid by the Volunteers were now brought into vigorous play, and in the long reach of the river between High Walker and Wallsend no fewer than six more of the enemy's gun and torpedo boats had their bottoms blown out, and their crews torn limb from limb.
Flashed throughout the land, the news of the enemy's repulse, though gained at such enormous loss, excited a feeling of profound satisfaction.
The injury inflicted on the invaders had been terrible, and from that attack upon the Tyne they had been hurled reeling back the poorer by the loss of a whole fleet of torpedo and gun boats, one of the most effective arms of their squadrons, while the sea had closed over one of France's proudest battleships, the Neptune, and no fewer than four of her cruisers.
The surviving vessels, which retreated round the Black Middens and gained the open sea, all more or less had their engines crippled, and not half the men that had manned them escaped alive.
They had wrought incalculable damage, it is true, for part of Newcastle was burning, and the loss of life had been terrible; yet they were driven back by the Volunteers' desperately vigorous fire, and the lives of many thousands in Newcastle and Gateshead had thus been saved at the eleventh hour by British patriots.
Alas, it was a black day in England's history!
Was this to be a turning-point in the wave of disaster which had swept so suddenly upon our land?