The Message Part 17

Forster's great work, "The Surrender," gives the finest description we have of the scene that followed. The Field Marshal in command of the British forces had that morning been sent for by a Cabinet Council then being held in the Prime Minister's room at the House of Commons. With nine members of his staff, the white-haired Field Marshal rode slowly into the City, in full uniform. His instructions were for unconditional surrender, and a request for the immediate consideration of the details of peace negotiations.

The Field Marshal had once been the most popular idol of the British people, whom he had served n.o.bly in a hundred fights. Of late years he himself had been as completely disregarded, as the grave warnings, the earnest appeals, which he had bravely continued to urge upon a neglectful people. The very Government which now despatched him upon the hardest task of his whole career, the tendering of his sword to his country's enemy, had for long treated him with cold disfavour. The general public, in its anti-national madness, had sneered at this great little man, their one-time hero, as a Jingo crank.

(As an instance of the lengths to which the public madness went in this matter, the curious will find in the British Museum copies of at least one farcical work of fiction written and published with considerable success, as burlesques of that very invasion which had now occurred, of the possibility of which this loyal servant in particular had so earnestly and so unavailingly warned his countrymen.)

Now, the blow he had so often foreshadowed had fallen; the capital of the British Empire was actually in possession of an enemy; and the British leader knew himself for a Commander without an Army.

He had long since given his only son to the cause of Britain's defence.

The whole of his own strenuous life had been devoted to the same cause.

His declining years had known no ease by reason of his unceasing and thankless striving to awaken his fellow countrymen to a sense of their military responsibilities. Now he felt that the end of all things had come for him, in the carrying out of an order which snapped his life's work in two, and flung it down at the feet of England's almost unopposed conqueror.

The understanding Englishman has forgiven General von Fuchter much, by virtue of his treatment of the n.o.ble old soldier, who with tear-blinded eyes and twitching lips tendered him the surrender of the almost non-existent British Army. No man ever heard a speech from General von Fuchter, but the remark with which he returned our Field Marshal's sword to him will never be forgotten in England. He said, in rather laboured English, with a stiff, low bow:

"Keep it, my lord. If your countrymen had not forgotten how to recognize a great soldier, I could never have demanded it of you."

And the man of iron saluted the heart-broken Chief of the shattered British Army.

We prefer not to believe the report that this, the German Commander's one act of gentleness and magnanimity in England, was subsequently paid for by the loss of a certain Imperial decoration. But, if the story was true, then the decoration it concerned was well lost.

It was a grim, war-stained procession that followed General von Fuchter when, between two and three o'clock, he rode with his staff by way of Ludgate Hill and the Strand to Carlton House Terrace. But the cavalry rode with drawn sabres, the infantry marched with fixed bayonets, and, though weariness showed in every line of the men's faces, there was as yet no sign of relaxed tension.

Throughout that evening and night the baggage wagons rumbled through London, without cessation, to the two main western encampments in Hyde Park. The whole of Pall Mall and Park Lane were occupied by German officers that night, few of the usual occupants of the clubs in the one thoroughfare, or the residences in the other, being then in London.

By four o'clock General von Fuchter's terms were in the hands of the Government which had now completed its earning of the t.i.tle of "The Destroyers." The Chief Commissioner of Police and the princ.i.p.al munic.i.p.al authorities of greater London had all been examined during the day at the House of Commons, and were unanimous in their verdict that any delay in the arrangement of peace and the resumption of trade, ash.o.r.e and afloat, could mean only revolution. Whole streets of shops had been sacked and looted already by hungry mobs, who gave no thought to the invasion or to any other matter than the question of food supply.

A great, lowering crowd of hungry men and women occupied Westminster Bridge and the southern embankment (no German soldiers had been seen south of the Thames) waiting for the news of the promised conclusion of peace terms.

There is not wanting evidence that certain members of the Government had already bitterly repented of their suicidal retrenchment and anti-defensive att.i.tude in the past. But repentance had come too late.

The Government stood between a hungry, terrified populace demanding peace and food, and a mighty and victorious army whose commander, acting upon the orders of his Government, offered peace at a terrible price, or the absolute destruction of London. For General von Fuchter's brief memorandum of terms alluded threateningly to the fact that his heavy artillery was so placed that he could blow the House of Commons into the river in an hour.

At six o'clock the German terms were accepted, a provisional declaration of peace was signed, and public proclamations to that effect, embodying reference to the deadly perils which would be incurred by those taking part in any kind of street disorder, were issued to the public. As to the nature of the German terms, it must be admitted that they were as pitiless as the German tactics throughout the invasion, and as surely designed to accomplish their end and object. Berlin had not forgotten the wonderful recuperative powers which enabled France to rise so swiftly from out of the ashes of 1870. Britain was to be far more effectually crippled.

The money indemnity demanded by General von Fuchter was the largest ever known: one thousand million pounds sterling. But it must be remembered that the enemy already held the Bank of England. One hundred millions, or securities representing that amount, were to be handed over within twenty-four hours. The remaining nine hundred millions were to be paid in nine annual instalments of one hundred millions each, the first of which must be paid within three months. Until the last payment was made, German troops were to occupy Glasgow, Cardiff, Portsmouth, Devonport, Chatham, Yarmouth, Harwich, Hull, and Newcastle. The Transvaal was to be ceded to the Boers under a German Protectorate. Britain was to withdraw all pretensions regarding Egypt and Morocco, and to cede to Germany, Gibraltar, Malta, Ceylon, and British West Africa.

It is not necessary for me to quote the few further details of the most exacting demands a victor ever made upon a defeated enemy. There can be no doubt that, in the disastrous circ.u.mstances they had been so largely instrumental in bringing about, "The Destroyers" had no choice, no alternative from their acceptance of these crus.h.i.+ng terms.

And thus it was that--not at the end of a long and hard-fought war, as the result of vast misfortunes or overwhelming valour on the enemy's side, but simply as the result of the condition of utter and lamentable defencelessness into which a truckling Government and an undisciplined, blindly selfish people had allowed England to lapse--the greatest, wealthiest Power in civilization was brought to its knees in the incredibly short s.p.a.ce of one week, by the sudden but scientifically devised onslaught of a single ambitious nation, ruled by a monarch whose lack of scruples was more than balanced by his strength of purpose.

XXI

ENGLAND ASLEEP

Evil springs up, and flowers, and bears no seed, And feeds the green earth with its swift decay, Leaving it richer for the growth of truth.

LOWELL.

General von Fuchter and his splendidly trained troops were not the only people in England for whom the mere fatigue of that week was something not easily to be forgotten. My impression of its last three days is that they brought no period of rest for any one. I know that there were as many people in the streets by night as by day. The act of going within doors or sitting down, seemed in some way to be a kind of cowardice, a species of s.h.i.+rking, or disloyalty.

I remember Constance Grey a.s.suring me that she had lain down for an hour on Thursday. I can say with certainty that we were both of us on our feet from that time until after the terms of the surrender were made known on Sat.u.r.day evening. I can also say that no thought of this matter of physical weariness occurred to me until that period of Sat.u.r.day evening--soon after seven o'clock it was--when the proclamations were posted up in Whitehall, and the special issues of the newspapers containing the peace announcements began to be hawked.

An issue of the _Standard_, a single sheet, with broad black borders, was the first press announcement to reach the public; and it contained a grave, closely reasoned address from the most famous statesman of the Opposition, urging upon the public the need vital of exercising the utmost cautiousness and self-restraint.

"England has been stricken to the earth," said this dignified statement.

"Her condition is critical. If the injury sustained is not to prove mortal, the utmost circ.u.mspection is required at this moment. The immediate duty of every loyal subject is quietly to concentrate his energies for the time upon the restoration of normal conditions. In that way only can our suffering country be given that breathing s.p.a.ce which is the first step toward recuperation. For my part, I can conceive of no better, quicker method for the individual of serving this end than for him to make the speediest possible return to the pursuit of his ordinary avocation in life. It is to be hoped that, bearing in mind our urgent need, all employers of labour will do their utmost to provide immediate occupation for their work-people. It is not in the tragic catastrophe of the past week, but in the ordeal of this moment, of the coming days, that the real test of England's endurance lies. Never before was her need so great; never before has Nelson's demand had so real and intimate a message for each and every one of us. I pray G.o.d the response may ring true. 'England expects that every man will do his duty!'"

I must not omit my tribute to those responsible for the salient fact that this important issue of the journal whose unwavering Imperialism had been scoffed at in the mad times before the Invasion, was not sold, but distributed. Employment was found for hundreds of hungry men, women, and children in its free distribution; their wage being the thing they most desired: bread, with soup, which, as I learned that night, was prepared in huge coppers in the foundry of the printing works.

I was with Constance Grey in Trafalgar Square when the news of the accepted terms of peace reached us. We had just secured admission into Charing Cross Hospital--not without considerable difficulty, for its wards were crowded--for two wounded nurses from Epping. Together we read the news, and when the end was reached it seemed to me that the light of life and energy pa.s.sed suddenly out of my companion. She seemed to suffer some bodily change and loss, to be bereft of her spring and erectness.

"Ah, well," she said, "I am very tired, d.i.c.k; and, do you know, it occurs to me I have had nothing to eat since yesterday afternoon. I wonder can we get away from these men, anywhere?"

The streets between Victoria and Hyde Park were lined by German cavalry men, who sat motionless on their chargers, erect and soldierly, but, in many cases, fast asleep.

We began to walk eastward, looking for some place in which we could rest and eat. But every place seemed to be closed.

"How long have you been on your feet?" said Constance, as we pa.s.sed the Law Courts.

"Only since Thursday evening," I said. "I had a long rest in that cart, you remember--the one I brought the lint and bandages in."

Just then we pa.s.sed a tailor's shop-window, and, in a long, narrow strip of mirror I caught a full-length reflection of myself. I positively turned swiftly to see who could have cast that reflection. Four days without shaving and without a change of collar; two days without even was.h.i.+ng my hands or face; four days without undressing, and eight hours'

work beside the North London entrenchments--these experiences had made a wild-looking savage of me, and, until that moment, I had never thought of my appearance.

Smoke, earth, and blood had worked their will upon me. My left hand, from which two fingers were missing, was swathed in blackened bandages.

My right coat-sleeve had been cut off by a good-natured fellow who had bandaged the flesh wound in my arm to stop its bleeding. My eyes glinted dully in a black face, with curious white fringes round them, where their moisture had penetrated my skin of smoked dirt. And here was I walking beside Constance Grey!

Then I realized, for the first time, that Constance herself bore many traces of these last few terrible days. In some mysterious fas.h.i.+on her face and collar seemed to have escaped scot free; but her dress was torn, ragged, and stained; and the intense weariness of her expression was something I found it hard to bear.

Just then we met Wardle of the _Sunday News_, and he told us of the bread and soup distribution in the _Standard_ office. Something warned me that Constance had reached the limit of her endurance, and, in another moment, she had reeled against me and almost fallen. I took her in my arms, and Wardle walked beside me, up a flight of stairs and into the office of the great newspaper. There I walked into the first room I saw--the sanctum of some managerial bashaw, for aught I knew--and placed Constance comfortably in a huge easy chair of green leather.

Wardle brought some water, for Constance was in a fainting state still; but I hurried him off again to look for bread and soup. Meantime I lowered Constance to the floor, having just remembered that in such a case the head should be kept low. Her face was positively deathly--lips, cheeks, all alike gray-white, save for the purple hollows under both eyes. One moment I was taking stock of these things, as a doctor might; the next I was on my knees and kissing the nerveless hand at her side, all worn and bruised and stained as it was from her ceaseless strivings of the past week. I knew then that, for me, though I should live a hundred years and Constance should never deign to speak to me again, there was but one woman in the world.

I am afraid Wardle found me at the same employ; but, though I remember vaguely resenting his fresh linen and normally smart appearance, he was a good fellow, and knew when to seem blind. All he said was:

"Here's the soup!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I WAS ON MY KNEES AND KISSING THE NERVELESS HAND"]

He had brought a small wash-hand basin full to the brim, and a loaf of warm, new bread. As the steam of the hot soup reached me, I realized that I was a very hungry animal, whatever else I might be besides. It may have been the steam of the soup that rallied Constance. I know that within two minutes I was feeding her with it from a cracked teacup. It is a wonderful thing to watch the effect of a few mouthfuls of hot soup upon an exhausted woman, whose exhaustion is due as much to lack of food as need of rest. There was no spoon, but the teacup, though cracked, was clean, and I found a tumbler in a luxurious little cabinet near the chair one felt was dedicated to the Fleet Street magnate whose room we had invaded. A tumbler is almost as convenient to drink soup from as a cup, but requires more careful manipulation when hot. If the side of the tumbler becomes soupy, it can easily be wiped with the crumb of new bread.

Wardle seemed to be as sufficiently nourished as he was neatly dressed; but he found a certain vicarious pleasure, I think, in watching Constance and myself at the bowl. We sat on the Turkey carpet, and used the seat of the green chair as a table--a strange meal, in strange surroundings; but a better I never had, before or since. There was a physical gratification, a warmth and a comfort to me, in watching the colour flowing gradually back into Constance's face; a singularly beautiful process of nature I thought it. Presently the door of the room opened with a jerk, and a tallish man wearing a silk hat looked in.

"H'm!" he said brusquely. "Beg pardon!" And he was gone. I learned afterwards that the room belonged to him, and that he came direct from a conference of newspaper pundits called together at Westminster by the Home Secretary. I do not know where he took refuge, but as for us we went on with our soup and bread till repletion overtook us, as it quickly does after long fasts, and renewed strength brought sighs of contentment.

"Wardle," I remember saying to my journalistic friend, with absurd earnestness, "have you anything to smoke?"