Читать книгу The Great War in England in 1897 - Le Queux William - Страница 18

In the Channel disastrous events of a most exciting character were now rapidly occurring.

Outside Seaford Bay, Pevensey Bay, and off Brighton and the Mares at Cuckmere Haven, the enemy's transports, having landed troops and stores, rode at anchor, forming a line of retreat in case of reverses, while many fast French cruisers steamed up and down, keeping a sharp lookout for any British merchant or mail steamers which, ignorant of the hostilities, entered the Channel.

The officers and crews of these steamers were in most cases so utterly surprised that they fell an easy prey to the marauding vessels, many being captured and taken to French ports without a shot being fired. Other vessels, on endeavouring to escape, were either overhauled or sunk by the heavy fire of pursuing cruisers. One instance was that of the fast mail steamer Carpathian, belonging to the Union Steamship Company, which, entering the Channel on a voyage from Cape Town to Southampton, was attacked off the Eddystone by the Russian armoured cruiser Gerzog Edinburskij. The panic on board was indescribable, over a hundred steerage passengers being killed or mutilated by the shells from the bow guns of the cruiser, and the captain himself being blown to atoms by an explosion which occurred when a shot struck and carried away the forward funnel. After an exciting chase, the Carpathian was sunk near Start Point, and of the five hundred passengers and crew scarcely a single person survived.

This terrible work of destruction accomplished, the Russian cruiser turned westward again to await further prey. As she steamed away, however, another ship rounded the Start following at full speed in her wake. This vessel, which was flying the British flag, was the barbette-ship Centurion. Already her captain had witnessed the attack and sinking of the Carpathian, but from a distance too great to enable him to assist the defenceless liner, and he was now on his way to attack the Tsar's cruiser. Almost immediately she was noticed by the enemy. Half an hour later she drew within range, and soon the two ships were engaged in a most desperate encounter. The gunners on the Centurion, seeing the Russian cross flying defiantly, and knowing the frightful havoc already wrought on land by the enemy, worked with that pluck and indomitable energy characteristic of the Britisher. Shot after shot was exchanged, but hissed and splashed without effect until the ships drew nearer, and then nearly every shell struck home. The rush of flame from the quick-firing guns of the Centurion was continuous, and the firing was much more accurate than that of her opponent, nevertheless the latter was manipulated with remarkable skill.

The roar of the guns was deafening. Clouds of smoke rose so thickly that the vessels could scarcely distinguish each other. But the firing was almost continuous, until suddenly a shell struck the Centurion abaft the funnel, and for a moment stilled her guns.

This, however, was not for long, for in a few moments she recovered from the shock, and her guns were again sending forth shells with regularity and precision. Again a shell struck the Centurion, this time carrying away one of her funnels and killing a large number of men.

The British captain, still as cool as if standing on the hearthrug of the smoking-room of the United Service Club, took his vessel closer, continuing the fire, heedless of the fact that the Russian shells striking his ship were playing such fearful havoc with it. Every preparation had been made for a desperate fight to the death, when suddenly a shot struck the vessel, causing her to reel and shiver.

So well had the Russians directed their fire that the British vessel could not reply. One of her 29-tonners had been blown completely off its carriage, and lay shattered with men dead all around, while two of her quick-firing broadside guns had been rendered useless, and she had sustained other injuries of a very serious character, besides losing nearly half her men.

She was silent, riding to the swell, when wild exultant shouts in Russian went up from the enemy's ship, mingling with the heavy fire they still kept up.

At that moment, however, even while the victorious shouts resounded, the captain of the Centurion, still cool and collected, swung round his vessel, and turning, touched one of the electric knobs at his hand. As he did so a long silvery object shot noiselessly from the side of the ship, and plunged with a splash into the rising waves.

Seconds seemed hours. For a whole three minutes the captain waited; then, disappointed, he turned away with an expression of impatience. The torpedo had missed its mark, and every moment lost might determine their fate. With guns still silent he again adroitly manœuvred his ship. Once again he touched the electric knob, and again a torpedo, released from its tube, sped rapidly through the water.

Suddenly a dull and muffled explosion from the Russian cruiser sounded. Above the dense smoke a flame shot high, with great columns of spray, as the guns suddenly ceased their thunder.

There was a dead stillness, broken only by the wash of the sea.

Then the smoke clearing showed the débris of the Gerzog Edinburskij fast sinking beneath the restless waters. Some splinters precipitated into the air had fallen with loud splashes in every direction, and amid the victorious shouts of the British bluejackets the disabled ship, with its fluttering Russian cross, slowly disappeared for ever, carrying down every soul on board.

The torpedo, striking her amidships, had blown an enormous hole right through her double bottom, and torn her transverse bulkheads away so much that her watertight doors were useless for keeping her afloat, even for a few minutes.

Partially crippled as she was, the Centurion steamed slowly westward, until at noon on the following day she fell in with a division of the Coastguard Squadron, which, acting under the fictitious telegraphic orders of the French spy, had been to Land's End, but which, now the enemy had landed, had received genuine orders from the Admiralty.

Compared with the number and strength of the French and Russian vessels mustered in the Channel, this force was so small as to appear ludicrous. To send this weak defending division against the mighty power of the invaders was sheer madness, and everybody on board knew it. The vessels were weaker in every detail than those of the enemy.

At full speed the British vessels steamed on throughout that day, until at 8 P.M., when about twenty miles south of Selsey Bill, they were joined by forces from the Solent. These consisted of the turret-ship Monarch, the turret-ram Rupert, the barbette-ship Rodney, the belted cruiser Aurora, and the coast defence armour-clads Cyclops and Gorgon, together with a number of torpedo boats. The night was calm, but moonless, and without delay the vessels all continued the voyage up Channel silently, with lights extinguished.

Two hours later the officers noticed that away on the horizon a light suddenly flashed twice and then disappeared.

One of the enemy's ships had signalled the approach of the defenders!

This caused the British Admiral to alter his course slightly, and the vessels steamed along in the direction the light had shown.

In turrets and in broadside batteries there was a deep hush of expectation. Officers and men standing at their quarters scarcely spoke. All felt the fight must be most desperate.

Presently, in the far distance a small patch of light in the sky showed the direction of Brighton, and almost immediately the Admiral signalled to the cruisers Aurora, Galatea, and Narcissus, and the new battleship Hannibal, built under the 1894 programme, to detach themselves with six torpedo boats, and take an easterly course, in order to carry out instructions which he gave. These tactics caused considerable comment.

The orders were to make straight for Eastbourne, and to suddenly attack and destroy any of the hostile transports that were lying there, the object being twofold – firstly, to cut off the enemy's line of retreat, and secondly, to prevent the vessels from being used for the purpose of landing further reinforcements.

Soon after 2 A.M. this gallant little division had, by careful manoeuvring, and assisted by a slight mist which now hung over the sea, rounded Beachy Head without being discovered, and had got outside Pevensey Bay about eight miles from land. Here a number of Russian transports and service steamers were lying, among them being the Samojed and Olaf, Krasnaya Gorka and Vladimir, with two smaller ones – the Dnepr and the Artelscik.

Silently, and without showing any lights, a British torpedo boat sped quickly along to where the dark outline of a ship loomed through the mist, and, having ascertained that it was the Olaf, drew up quickly.

A few minutes elapsed, all being quiet. Then suddenly a bright flash was followed by a fearful explosion, and the bottom of the Tsar's vessel being completely ripped up by the torpedo, she commenced to settle down immediately, before any of those on board could save themselves. The enemy had scarcely recovered from their surprise and confusion when three other loud explosions occurred, and in each case transport vessels were blown up. British torpedo boats, darting hither and thither between the Russian ships, were dealing terrible blows from which no vessel could recover. So active were they, indeed, that within the space of fifteen minutes six transports had been blown up, as well as the first-class torpedo boat Abo. The loss of life was terrible.

Simultaneously with the first explosion, the guns of the Aurora, Galatea, and Narcissus thundered out a terrible salute. The bright search-lights of the Russian cruisers and of the battleship Navarin immediately swept the sea, and through the mist discerned the British ships. The lights served only to show the latter the exact position of the enemy, and again our guns belched forth shot and shell with disastrous effect.

Quickly, however, the Russian vessels replied. Flame flashed continuously from the turret of the Navarin and the port guns of the Opricnik and the Najezdnik, while the search-lights were at the same time shut off.

At first the fire was very ineffectual, but gradually as the vessels crept closer to each other the encounter became more and more desperate.

The Russian torpedo boats Vzryv, Vindava, and Kotlinj were immediately active, and the Narcissus had a very narrow escape, a Whitehead torpedo passing right under her bows, while one British torpedo boat, which at the same moment was endeavouring to launch its deadly projectile at the Navarin, was sent to the bottom by a single shot from the Najezdnik.

The combat was desperate and terrible. That the British had been already successful in surprising and sinking a torpedo boat and six of the hostile transports was true; nevertheless the number of Russian ships lying there was much greater than the British Admiral had anticipated, and, to say the least, the four vessels now found themselves in a most critical position.

The Navarin alone was one of the most powerful of the Tsar's battleships, and, in addition to the seven cruisers and nine torpedo boats, comprised an overwhelming force.

Yet the English warships held their own, pouring forth an incessant fire. Each gun's crew knew they were face to face with death, but, inspired by the coolness of their officers, they worked on calmly and indefatigably. Many of their shots went home with frightful effect. One shell which burst over the magazine of the Lieut. Iljin ripped up her deck and caused severe loss of life, while in the course of half an hour one of the heavy turret guns of the Navarin had been disabled, and two more Russian torpedo boats sunk. Our torpedo boat destroyers operating on the Channel seaboard were performing excellent work, the Havock, Shark, Hornet, Dart, Bruiser, Hasty, Teaser, Janus, Surly, and Porcupine all being manœuvred with splendid success. Several, however, were lost while sweeping out the enemy's torpedo boat shelters, including the Ardent, Charger, Boxer, and Rocket.

But the British vessels were now suffering terribly, hemmed in as they were by the enemy, with shells falling upon them every moment, and their decks swept by the withering fire of machine guns. Suddenly, after a shell had burst in the stern of the Aurora, she ceased firing and swung round, almost colliding with the Narcissus. Her steam steering-gear had, alas! been broken by the shot, and for a few moments her officers lost control over her.

A Russian torpedo boat in shelter behind the Navarin, now seeing its chance, darted out and launched its projectile.

The officers of the Aurora, aware of their danger, seemed utterly powerless to avert it. It was a terrible moment. A few seconds later the torpedo struck, the cruiser rose as if she had ridden over a volcano, and then, as she gradually settled down, the dark sea rolled over as gallant a crew as ever sailed beneath the White Ensign.

Immediately afterwards the Navarin exchanged rapid signals with a number of ships which were approaching with all speed from the direction of Hastings, and the captains of the three remaining British vessels saw that they had fallen into a trap.

The Narcissus had been drawn between two fires. Both her funnels had been shot away, two of her broadside guns were useless, and she had sustained damage to her engines; nevertheless, her captain, with the dogged perseverance of a British sailor, continued the desperate combat. With the first flush of dawn the fog had lifted, but there was scarcely sufficient wind to spread out the British ensign, which still waved with lazy defiance.

On one side of her was the ponderous Navarin, from the turret of which shells were projected with monotonous regularity, while on the other the British cruiser was attacked vigorously by the Najezdnik. The Narcissus, however, quickly showed the Russians what she could do against such overwhelming odds, for presently she sent a shot from one of her 20-ton guns right under the turret of the Navarin, causing a most disastrous explosion on board that vessel, while, at the same time, her 6-inch breechloaders pounded away at her second antagonist, and sank a torpedo boat manœuvring near.

Both the Galatea and the Hannibal were in an equally serious predicament. The enemy's torpedo boats swarmed around them, while the cruisers Opricnik, Admiral Korniloff, Rynda, and several other vessels, kept up a hot, incessant fire, which was returned energetically by the British vessels.

The sight was magnificent, appalling! In the spreading dawn, the great ships manœuvring smartly, each strove to obtain points of vantage, and vied with each other in their awful work of destruction. The activity of the British torpedo boats, darting here and there, showed that those who manned them were utterly reckless of their lives. As they sped about, it was indeed marvellous how they escaped destruction, for the Russians had more than double the number of boats, and their speed was quite equal to our own.

Nevertheless the British boats followed up their successes by other brilliant deeds of daring, for one of them, with a sudden dash, took the Rynda off her guard, and sent a torpedo at her with awful result, while a few moments later two terrific explosions sounded almost simultaneously above the thunder of the guns, and it was then seen that the unprotected cruiser Asia, and the last remaining transport the Krasnaya Gorka, were both sinking.

It was a ghastly spectacle.

Hoarse despairing shrieks went up from hundreds of Russian sailors who fought and struggled for life in the dark rolling waters, and three British torpedo boats humanely rescued a great number of them. Many, however, sank immediately with their vessels, while some strong swimmers struck out for the distant shore. Yet, without exception, all these succumbed to exhaustion ere they could reach the land, and the long waves closed over them as they threw up their arms and sank into the deep.

During the first few minutes following this sudden disaster to the enemy the firing ceased, and the Navarin ran up signals. This action attracted the attention of the officers of the British vessels to the approaching ships, and to their amazement and dismay they discovered that they were a squadron of the enemy who had returned unexpectedly from the direction of Dover.

The British ships, in their half-crippled condition, could not possibly withstand such an onslaught as they knew was about to be made upon them, for the enemy's reinforcements consisted of the steel barbette-ships Gangut, Alexander II., and Nicolai I., of the Baltic Fleet, the great turret-ship Petr Veliky, the Rurik, a very powerful central-battery belted cruiser of over ten thousand tons, two new cruisers of the same type that had been recently completed, the Enara and Ischma, with three other cruisers and a large flotilla of torpedo boats. Accompanying them were the French 10,000-ton armoured barbette-ship Magenta, the central-battery ship Richelieu, the armoured turret-ship Tonnerre, and the Hoche, one of the finest vessels of our Gallic neighbour's Navy, as well as the torpedo cruisers Hirondelle and Fleurus, and a number of swift torpedo boats and "catchers."

The captains of the British vessels saw that in the face of such a force defeat was a foregone conclusion; therefore they could do nothing but retreat hastily towards Newhaven, in the hope of finding the division of the British Coastguard Squadron which had gone there for the same purpose as they had rounded Beachy Head, namely, to destroy the enemy's transports.

Without delay the three vessels swung round with all speed and were quickly headed down Channel, while the remaining attendant torpedo boats, noticing this sudden retreat, also darted away. This manœuvre did not, of course, proceed unchecked, the enemy being determined they should not escape. Signals were immediately made by the Alexander II., the flagship, and the Petr Veliky and Enara, being within range, blazed forth a storm of shell upon the fugitives. The shots, however, fell wide, and ricochetted over the water, sending up huge columns of spray; whereupon the Narcissus and Galatea replied steadily with their 6-inch guns, while the heavy guns of the Hannibal were also quickly brought into play.

In a few minutes the Magenta and Tonnerre with the Alger, Cécille, and Sfax, started in pursuit, and an intensely exciting chase commenced. The engines of the British vessels were run at the highest possible pressure, but the French ships proved several knots swifter. As they steamed at full speed around Beachy Head towards Seaford Bay the enemy gradually overhauled them. The brisk fire which was being kept up soon began to tell, for all three retreating ships had lost many men, and the scenes of bloodshed on board were frightful.

Eagerly the officers swept the horizon with their glasses to discover signs of friendly aid, but none hove in sight. All three ships were weak, their guns disabled, with whole guns' crews lying dead around, and many of the officers had fallen. In strength, in speed, in armaments – in fact, in everything – they were inferior to their opponents, and they saw it was a question of sheer force, not one of courage.