It was the suddenness of the calamity that staggered humanity. One day not a cloud in the over-seas sky, and the next a catastrophe that petrified the nation. In London the hoarse croaking notes of the news-vendors—the ravens of the press—filled the streets and squares, and flaring placards, displayed in every quarter, attracted the notice of ever-increasing crowds. Men wrangled, and even fought, over copies of the papers, and edition after edition was reeled off to meet the enormous public demand. It was the news from Dover that created this unparalleled excitement. An inconceivable thing had happened. By means of crafty strategy, a mixed body of American and German troops had seized and were in possession of Fort Warden! Immediately the wildest and most conflicting accounts were in circulation. But, separating the chaff from the wheat, the more responsible of the London journals presently set forth a bald statement of the facts—facts that were alleged to be beyond dispute. The statements published by these papers, indeed, were said to be authorised by the Chiefs of the Intelligence Department at the War Office. Further details, however, constantly were coming over the wires, and it was known that large bodies of regular and territorial troops were being hurried to the aid of the garrison at Dover. [Pg 105]
The first report, viz., that foreigners had obtained a foothold by means of the Channel Tunnel was officially contradicted. The simple truth was as follow: On the previous evening a Hamburg liner had entered the commercial harbour, and some hundreds of her passengers at once had landed on the jetty. There was nothing remarkable or suspicious in such an occurrence. The great German liner was a familiar and frequent visitor to the port. Though it was noticed that a large number of passengers came ashore, that circumstance was plausibly explained by the statement of the ship's officers, who said that something had gone wrong with her machinery. It would take the engineers two hours or more to put right the defect. What more natural than that most of the passengers should land and fill up the time by the inspection of the points of interest in the town? The harbour officials estimated that altogether some three hundred men had come ashore. They had the appearance of tourists. The evening was cold, and, wearing travelling caps and capes or ulsters, the visitors passed briskly across the jetty and disappeared, in little parties of eight or nine, into the town.
The townspeople, as they were putting up their shutters, noticed the strangers as they passed through the streets. It was remarked that they spoke to each other in low tones or not at all, also that they did not loiter or stare about them like ordinary sightseers. The general impression was that they had only landed to stretch their legs, and meant to climb the hill and then come back again. They certainly did climb the hill, but none of them returned. It was not until an hour later that an amazing rumour spread throughout the town. The story was brought by bands of excited Amazons belonging to those to[Pg 106] whom Fort Warden had temporarily been given up for gunnery practice. Their pale faces and distraught appearance at once made it clear that something very serious had happened. Yet the townsfolk were incredulous. The thing seemed so absurd, so impossible! These girl-soldiers, they thought, were the victims of some monstrous practical joke or of hysterical hallucination. Who could possibly credit such a tale? But the Amazons, in trembling tones and with nervous gestures, declared that it was true. Their numbers rapidly increased; some of them came tearing down the Castle Hill in uncontrollable alarm. All of them, in one way or another, verified the amazing story.
It was this: A band of foreigners, comprising 150 Americans and 150 soldierly Germans, armed with revolvers, had "rushed" Fort Warden. The approaches were open at the time, and guarded by only a few artillerymen. It was visitors' day, and the visitors were departing as the foreigners arrived. The struggle was of the briefest. Those of the artillerymen who showed fight had been instantly shot down. The others had been secured, together with the chief gunnery instructor and the head of the chemical department—a non-combatant from whom the foreigners had violently forced such information as they needed. As for the Amazons themselves, they had not been maltreated—but, what was worse, many had been insultingly kissed or roughly caressed by the invaders. With all speed and no ceremony, they had been contemptuously bundled out of the fort—and here they were to tell the tale!
A staff-officer at the local head-quarters, to whom the report was carried by a breathless tradesman, lost no time in ringing up Fort Warden. For some[Pg 107] time there was no reply. He rang angrily again and yet again; at last came some unintelligible response. He swore irritably, and then roared an inquiry:
"Are you there? Who is it?"
Still no reply.
"Why don't you answer? What's this I hear about the Fort?"
The only answer was an inarticulate growl.
"Why the devil don't you speak? Who are you?"
Then, at last, came an intelligible response—in English with a strong American intonation:
"Guess you'd better come and see!"
How and why had this dastardly combined attack on England come to pass? The story can be briefly told. Great Britain had long been regarded by America as old and stricken in years—not merely as the old country, but as a country that was in its dotage—old and played out. America was young and lusty, and quite persuaded that the old folk at home were too feeble to retain the management of the old Estate. Already the United States, in the scramble for British possessions, had pocketed some nice little pickings. The West Indian Islands, the Bermudas and British Guiana, had been virtually surrendered to Washington. England for years, but in vain, had sought to placate this big and blustering branch of the ancient race whenever family friction had arisen. Again and again weaker members of the clan, poor relations, like Newfoundland, had been sacrificed to the demands of the United States. But some appetites are insatiable, some ambitions unbounded. A new order of American politicians had arisen, men who aimed at a great federation of the Anglo-Saxon race, with America not as the junior partner, but as the head[Pg 108] and ruling spirit of that federation. When the possessor of a great estate becomes imbecile or lapses into second childhood his affairs are taken out of his hands—for his own good and for the due protection of his solicitous relations. That, argued the plotters, was just what was needed in the case of Great Britain. The indications of decrepitude had been slowly but, to keen observers, convincingly manifested during a period of more than thirty years. Thirty years ago Englishmen would have scouted the idea of an American invasion, or the idea of America in alliance with Germany against Great Britain. Monstrous! Was not blood thicker than water? Were not the American people our own kith and kin? Yes, but times had changed, while human nature had remained the same. America had become a cosmopolitan country. From all parts of Europe—and especially from Germany—men had emigrated to the United States. Thither, too, swarms of the yellow from China and Japan, had insidiously made their way in spite of opposition; and year after year the black population of the great continent had enormously increased, while the Anglo-Saxon birth-rate had rapidly declined. The British element in America thus had been absorbed, submerged. The old and consolatory theory of family ties, like other popular fallacies fondly cherished in spite of the march of events, at last had been convincingly exploded by the raid on Dover.
Signs of the coming times had not been wanting. England, fearing a German invasion, had kept her fleets in home waters. The great scheme of Imperial Defence, much discussed in 1909, had not been perfected. As far back as the earthquake of 1906 in Jamaica, the growing inability of England to look after her outlying possessions had been strikingly[Pg 109] ............