Lest We Forget Part 7

Captain Charles Fryatt was in command of a British steams.h.i.+p named _Brussels_, running from Tilbury, England, to the Hook of Holland. His s.h.i.+p was hailed in 1915 by a German submarine and ordered to stop.

A torpedo costs several thousand dollars, therefore a submarine saves one whenever she can sink a s.h.i.+p by some other means. Also a submarine can carry but few torpedoes, so by saving them she can remain longer at sea and at her work of destruction.

Captain Fryatt was well aware that if he came to a stop, the Germans would board his s.h.i.+p and sink her by bombs, or would order the pa.s.sengers off and sink her by sh.e.l.ls from the guns. This is the way they sank the _Carolina_ off the coast of New Jersey, leaving the pa.s.sengers in open boats--many of whom died from exposure and by the capsizing of one boat in the tempest which struck them at midnight.

Captain Fryatt knew that by the laws of nations he had the right to defend his s.h.i.+p, so instead of stopping as the Germans ordered him to do, he put on full speed and turned the head of his s.h.i.+p towards the submarine, hoping to ram her and sink her. He was obeying instructions from his government, and was doing nothing but what he had a perfect right to do according to international law.

He did not succeed, but he gained time and forced the submarine to submerge, for British destroyers were coming up in answer to his wireless call.

For his bravery, the British Government rewarded him by giving him a gold watch and naming him with praise in the House of Commons.

More than a year later, on June 23, 1916, German wars.h.i.+ps out on a raid captured the _Brussels_, which Captain Fryatt still commanded. He was taken to Bruges, Belgium, and put on trial for his life. The Germans claimed his case was like that of a non-combatant on land who fired upon the soldiers. They found him guilty on June 27 and sentenced him to be shot, for having attempted to sink the submarine, U-33, by ramming it. They laid much emphasis on the fact that the British Government had rewarded him, although this really had nothing to do with whether or not he had a right to defend his s.h.i.+p.

The United States was not then at war with Germany, and the diplomatic affairs of England were in charge of the United States Amba.s.sador in Berlin. When Amba.s.sador Gerard learned that Captain Fryatt had been captured and taken to Bruges for trial, he sent two notes to the proper German officials, demanding the right to visit Captain Fryatt and to secure counsel for him.

The German officials acknowledged his notes and a.s.sured him that they would take the necessary steps to meet his request.

But the morning of the day after Amba.s.sador Gerard sent his notes, Captain Fryatt was tried and sentenced, and was shot in the afternoon of the same day. As in the case of Edith Cavell, Germany's answer to America was a lie, and a scornful carrying out of her illegal purpose before the American Amba.s.sador could do anything more. She acted in exactly the same way in connection with the _Lusitania_, and with all her submarine warfare, or piracy, as it really is according to international law.

One of the leading German writers on international law says, "The merchant s.h.i.+p has the right of self-defense against an enemy attack, and this right it can exercise against visit, for this is indeed the first act of capture."

Germany knew she had no right to shoot Captain Fryatt, and she did not want her right challenged at his trial; so she did not allow the American Amba.s.sador to see him and to secure counsel for him.

She desired to make him an example of German "frightfulness" as she had in the case of Edith Cavell and of the _Lusitania_. She thought this would prevent other British vessels trying to ram her submarines.

The whole world is wondering if Germany would cower under "frightfulness," and therefore believes other peoples will. Her policy certainly has never had the effect that she hoped it would. It has simply made her enemies fight all the harder and dare all the more, because they remember her inhuman acts and unlawful deeds.

The Germans published the following notice of the trial and execution:

On Thursday at Bruges before the Court Martial of the Marine Corps, the trial took place of Captain Fryatt, of the British steamer _Brussels_, which was brought in as a prize. The accused was condemned to death because, although he was not a member of a combatant force, he made an attempt, on the afternoon of March 28, 1915, to ram the German submarine, U-33, near the Maas Lights.h.i.+p.

The accused received at the time from the British Admiralty a gold watch as a reward for his brave conduct on that occasion, and his action was mentioned with praise in the House of Commons.

On the occasion in question, disregarding the U-boat's signal to stop and show his national flag, he turned at a critical moment at high speed against the submarine, which escaped the steamer by a few metres only because of swiftly diving. He confessed that in so doing he had acted in accordance with the instructions of the Admiralty. The sentence was confirmed yesterday afternoon and carried out by shooting.

This is one of the many nefarious _franc-tireur_ proceedings of the British merchant marine against our war vessels, and it has found a belated but merited expiation.

The civilized nations of the world, in which we do not include Germany and her allies, have agreed that the execution of Captain Fryatt was a murder. Possibly the Germans also know it, but defend it as they did the invasion of Belgium, as "necessary" to German victory.

History will forever record it as an example of the black deeds done by desperate men who care only to accomplish their selfish ends, and will explain how these evil deeds of horror and of terror have injured those who committed them more than those who suffered from them.

On the very day of the execution of Captain Fryatt, the British pa.s.senger liner _Falaba_ was torpedoed and sunk without warning. She sank in eight minutes carrying with her one hundred and four men, women, and children, who were "not members of a combatant force."

RUPERT BROOKE[3]

Among the losses that the World War has caused--many of them losses that can never be made good--is that of the promising young English poet, Rupert Brooke.

He was a fine type in mind and body. His father was a teacher in the great English school at Rugby, and here the boy learned to write, and to play cricket, tennis, and football. He was interested in every form of athletics and was strong and skillful at all. He was a great walker and a fine diver and swimmer. He was said to have been one of the handsomest Englishmen of his day, tall, broad, easy, and graceful in his movements, with steady blue eyes, and a wavy ma.s.s of fair hair.

He had traveled much in France, Germany, Italy, the United States, Canada, and the South Seas, where he visited Stevenson's home in Samoa.

Of all lands, however, he loved England best.

When the war broke out, Brooke said, "Well, if Armageddon's on, I suppose I should be there." He enlisted, was commissioned as lieutenant, and was sent almost immediately with the English forces to relieve Antwerp, at that time besieged by the Germans. This experience, lying day after day in trenches under German fire, followed by the terrible retreat by night with the thousands of Belgians who had lost everything except their lives, changed the careless, happy youth into a man. He was but twenty-seven years old when he enlisted. He wrote but little poetry after his enlistment, but it is all of a finer, more spiritual quality than any of his previous work.

He spent the following winter training in England, and then joined the British Expeditionary Forces for the Dardanelles. He never reached there, however, for he died at Scyros on April 23, 1915, and was buried by torchlight at night, in an olive grove on the island.

One of his friends, Wilfred Gibson, has paid a beautiful tribute to him in a short poem ent.i.tled "The Going." It is a tribute that might well be offered to any of the thousands of young heroes from many lands who have gone with a sudden glory in their young eyes to give all, that human liberty should not be lost.

He's gone.

I do not understand.

I only know That, as he turned to go, And waved his hand, In his young eyes a sudden glory shone, And I was dazzled by a sunset glow-- And he was gone

Death appeared to be in his mind constantly after his terrible experience at Antwerp, but he seems never to have feared it. It is really the subject of all of his five sonnets written in 1914, and these are the best of his work. He thought constantly of England and of all that she had done for him and meant to him. He thought also of the little meaningful things of life, and put them into these sonnets--dawn, sunset, the beautiful colors of the earth, music, flowers, the feel of furs, and the touch of a cheek. Strange that he should have thought of the touching of fur. It probably gave him a strange sensation as it does to many. And then he thought of water and its movement in the wind, and its warmth under the sun, which seemed to him like life, just as its freezing under the frost seemed to him like death. All of this and more he put into a beautiful sonnet ent.i.tled "The Dead."

These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.

The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colors of the earth.

These had seen movement, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone; Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended.

There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after, Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance, A width, a s.h.i.+ning peace, under the night.

Note how significant is every human experience which he mentions from "the quick stir of wonder" which the youth feels, to the kindness which comes with years. "They had seen movement" is strange, and yet many like Rupert Brooke are fascinated with movement and see life chiefly in motion,--in smiles and steps.

His finest poem, however, is the last of the five sonnets and is ent.i.tled "The Soldier." Here he pours out his heart in love of England and in the pride that he feels in being an Englishman. Read France or America or some other worthy homeland in place of England and it will appeal to other hearts beside Englishmen. It is a beautiful poem, one that will live forever.

If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is forever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away, A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness, In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

One of our American poets, George Edward Woodberry, has beautifully said:

There is a grave in Scyros, amid the white and pinkish marble of the isle, the wild thyme and the poppies, near the green and blue waters. There Rupert Brooke was buried. Thither have gone the thoughts of his countrymen, and the hearts of the young especially. It will long be so. For a new star s.h.i.+nes in the English heavens.

Ever the faith endures, England, my England-- "Take us and break us: we are yours, England, my own!

Life is good, and joy runs high Between English earth and sky: Death is death; but we shall die To the song on your bugles blown, England-- To the stars on your bugles blown."

W.E. HENLEY.

FOOTNOTES:

[3] BASED ON "THE COLLECTED POEMS OF RUPERT BROOKE," COPYRIGHT BY JOHN LANE COMPANY.