CHAPTER XIII
A CRIME AND A MISTAKE
When the destruction of the forts and the sinking of the battleships atPortsmouth had been accomplished, John Castellan made about the greatestmistake in his life, a mistake which had very serious consequences forthose to whom he had sold himself and his terrible invention.
He and his brother Denis formed a very curious contrast, which isnevertheless not uncommon in Irish families. The British army and navycan boast no finer soldiers or sailors, and the Empire no more devotedservants than those who claim Ireland as the land of their birth, andDenis Castellan was one of these. As the reader may have guessedalready, he and Erskine had only been on the _Cormorant_ because it wasthe policy of the Naval Council to keep two of the ablest men in theservice out of sight for a while. Denis, who had a remarkable gift oftongues, was really one of the most skilful naval _attaches_ in service,and what he didn't know about the naval affairs of Europe was hardlyworth learning. Erskine had been recognised by the Naval Council which,under Sir John Fisher, had raised the British Navy to a pitch ofefficiency that was the envy of every nation in the world, except Japan,as an engineer and inventor of quite extraordinary ability, and whilethe _Ithuriel_ was building, they had given him the command of the_Cormorant_, chiefly because there was hardly anything to do, andtherefore he had ample leisure to do his thinking.
On the other hand John Castellan was an unhappily brilliant example ofthat type of Keltic intellect which is incapable of believing theworld-wide truism that the day of small states is passed. He had twoarticles of political faith. One was an unshakable belief in thepossibility of Irish independence, and the other, which naturallyfollowed from the first, was implacable hatred of the Saxon oppressorwhose power and wealth had saved Ireland from invasion for centuries. Hewas utterly unable to grasp the Imperial idea, while his brother was asenthusiastic an Imperialist as ever sailed the seas.
Had it not been for this blind hatred, the disaster which had befallenthe Reserve Fleet would have been repeated at sea on a much vasterscale; but he allowed his passions to overcome his judgment, and sosaved the Channel Fleet. There lay beneath him defenceless the greatestnaval port of England, with its docks and dockyards, its barracks andarsenals, its garrisons of soldiers and sailors, and its crowds ofworkmen. The temptation was too strong for him, and he yielded to it.
When the _Prince George_ had gone down he rose into the air, and ranover the Isle of Wight, signalling to the _See Adler_. The signals wereanswered, and the two airships met about two miles south-west of theNeedles, and Castellan informed Captain Frenkel of his intention todestroy Portsmouth and Gosport. The German demurred strongly. He had nopersonal hatred to satisfy, and he suggested that it would be muchbetter to go out to sea and discover the whereabouts of the ChannelFleet; but Castellan was Commander-in-Chief of the Aerial Squadrons ofthe Allies, and so his word was law, and within the next two hours oneof the greatest crimes in the history of civilised warfare wascommitted.
The two airships circled slowly over Gosport and Portsmouth, droppingtheir torpedoes wherever a worthy mark presented itself. The first onedischarged from the _Flying Fish_ fell on the deck of the old _Victory_.The deck burst up, as though all the powder she had carried atTrafalgar had exploded beneath it, and the next moment she broke out ininextinguishable flames. The old _Resolution_ met the same fate from the_See Adler_, and then the pitiless hail of destruction fell on the docksand jetties. In a few minutes the harbour was ringed with flame.Portsmouth Station, built almost entirely of wood, blazed up likematchwood; then came the turn of the dockyards at Portsea, which weresoon ablaze from end to end.
Then the two airships spread their wings like destroying angels overPortsmouth town. Half a dozen torpedoes wrecked the Town Hall and setthe ruins on fire. This was the work of the _See Adler_. The _FlyingFish_ devoted her attention to the naval and military barracks, theNaval College and the Gunnery School on Whale Island. As soon as thesewere reduced to burning ruins, the two airships scattered theirtorpedoes indiscriminately over churches, shops and houses, and in thestreets crowded by terrified mobs of soldiers, sailors and civilians.
The effect of the torpedoes in the streets was too appalling fordescription. Everyone within ten or a dozen yards of the focus of theexplosion was literally blown to atoms, and for fifty yards round everyliving creature dropped dead, killed either by the force of theconcussion or the poisonous gases which were liberated by the explosion.Hundreds fell thus without the mark of a wound, and when some of theirbodies were examined afterwards, it was found that their hearts weresplit open as cleanly as though they had been divided with a razor, justas are the hearts of fishes which have been killed with dynamite.
John Castellan and his lieutenant, M'Carthy, for the time being gloriedin the work of destruction. Captain Frenkel was a soldier and agentleman, and he saw nothing in it save wanton killing of defencelesspeople and a wicked waste of ammunition; but the terrible War Lord ofGermany had given Castellan supreme command, and to disobey meantdegradation, and possibly death, and so the _See Adler_ perforce tookher share in the tragedy.
In a couple of hours Portsmouth, Gosport and Portsea had ceased to betowns. They were only areas of flaming ruins; but at last the ammunitiongave out, and Castellan was compelled to signal the _See Adler_ to shapeher course for Bracklesham Bay in order to replenish the magazines. Theyreached the bay, and descended at the spot where the _Leger_ ought tohave been at anchor. She was not there, for the sufficient reason thatthe _Ithuriel's_ ram had sent her to the bottom of the Channel.
For half an hour the _Flying Fish_ and the _See Adler_ hunted over thenarrow waters, but neither was the _Leger_ nor any other craft to beseen between the Selsey coast and the Isle of Wight. When they cametogether again in Bracklesham Bay, John Castellan's rage against thehated Saxon had very considerably cooled. Evidently something serioushad happened, and something that he knew nothing about, and now that theexcitement of destruction had died away, he remembered more than onething which he ought to have thought of before.
The two rushes of the torpedo boats, supported by the swift cruisers,had not taken place. Not a hostile vessel had entered either Spithead orthe Solent, and the British cruisers, which he had been ordered tospare, had got away untouched. It was perfectly evident that somedisaster had befallen the expedition, and that the _Leger_ had beeninvolved in it. In spite of the terrible destruction that the _FlyingFish_, the _See Adler_ and the _Banshee_ had wrought on sea and land, itwas plain that the first part of the invader's programme had beenbrought to nothing by some unknown agency.
He was, of course, aware of the general plan of attack. He had destroyedthe battleships of the Fleet Reserve. While he was doing that thedestroyers should have been busy among the cruisers, and then the mainforce, under Admiral Durenne, would follow, and take possession ofSouthampton, Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight. A detachment of cruisersand destroyers was then to be despatched to Littlehampton, and land asufficient force to seize and hold the railway at Ford and Arundel, sothat the coast line of the L.B.S.C.R., as well as the main line toHorsham and London, should be at the command of the invaders.
Littlehampton was also particularly valuable on account of its tidalriver and harbour, which would give shelter and protection to a coupleof hundred torpedo boats and destroyers, and its wharves from whichtransports could easily coal. It is hardly worth while to add that ithad been left entirely undefended. It had been proposed to mount acouple of 9.2 guns on the old fort on the west side of the river mouth,with half a dozen twelve-pound quick-firers at the Coast-Guard stationon the east side to repel torpedo attack, but the War Office had laughedat the idea of an enemy getting within gunshot of the inviolate Englishshore, and so one of the most vulnerable points on the south coast hadbeen left undefended.
What would Castellan have given now for the torpedoes which the twoships had wasted in the wanton destruction of Portsmouth, and the murderof its helpless citizens. The main French Fleet by this time could notbe ve
ry far off. Behind it, somewhere, was the British Channel Fleet,the most powerful sea force that had ever ridden the subject waves, andhere he was without a torpedo on either of his ships, and no suppliesnearer than Kiel. The _Leger_ had carried two thousand torpedoes andfive hundred cylinders of the gases which supplied the motive power. Shewas gone, and for all offensive purposes the _Flying Fish_ and _SeeAdler_ were as harmless as a couple of balloons.
When it was too late, John Castellan remembered in the bitterness of hissoul that the torpedoes which had destroyed Portsmouth would have beensufficient to have wrecked the Channel Fleet, and now there was nothingfor it but to leave Admiral Durenne to fight his own battle against themost powerful fleet in the world, and to use what was left of the motivepower to get back to Kiel, and replenish their magazines.
Horrible as had been the fate which had fallen on the great arsenal ofsouthern England, it had not been sacrificed in vain, and very sick atheart was John Castellan when he gave the order for the two vessels,which a few hours ago had been such terrible engines of destruction, torise into the air and wing their harmless flight towards Kiel.
When the _Flying Fish_ and the _See Adler_ took the air, and shippedtheir course eastward, the position of the opposing fleets was somewhatas follows: The cruisers of the A Squadron, _Amphitrite_, _Andromeda_,_Europa_, _Niobe_, _Blenheim_ and _Blake_, with fifteen first-classtorpedo boats and ten destroyers, had got out to sea from Spitheadunharmed. All these cruisers were good for twenty knots, the torpedoboats for twenty-five, and the destroyers for thirty. The _Sutlej_,_Ariadne_, _Argonaut_ and _Diadem_ had got clear away from the Solent,with ten first-class torpedo boats and five destroyers. They met aboutfour miles south-east of St Catherine's Point. Commodore Hoskins of the_Diadem_ was the senior officer in command, and so he signalled forCaptain Pennell, of the _Andromeda_, to come on board, and talk mattersover with him, but before the conversation was half-way through, a blackshape, with four funnels crowned with smoke and flame, came tearing upfrom the westward, made the private signal, and ran alongside the_Diadem_.
The news that her commander brought was this--Admiral Lord Beresford hadsucceeded in eluding the notice of the French Channel Fleet, and was onhis way up the south-west with the intention of getting behind AdmiralDurenne's fleet, and crushing it between his own force to seaward andthe batteries and Reserve Fleet on the landward side. The Commander ofthe destroyer was, of course, quite ignorant of the disaster which hadbefallen the battleships of the Reserve Fleet and Portsmouth, and whenthe captain of the cruiser told him the tidings, though he received thenews with the almost fatalistic _sang froid_ of the British navalofficer, turned a shade or two paler under the bronze of his skin.
"That is terrible news, sir," he said, "and it will probably alter theAdmiral's plans considerably. I must be off as soon as possible, and lethim know: meanwhile, of course, you will use your own judgment."
"Yes," replied the Commodore, "but I think you had better take one ofour destroyers, say the _Greyhound_, back with you. She's got herbunkers full, and she can manage thirty-two knots in a sea like this."
At this moment the sentry knocked at the door of the Commodore's room.
"Come in," said Commodore Hoskins. The door opened, a sentry came in andsaluted, and said:
"The _Ithuriel's_ alongside, sir, and Captain Erskine will be glad tospeak to you."
"Ah!" exclaimed the Commodore, "the very thing. I wonder what that youngdevil has been up to. Send him in at once, sentry."
The sentry retired, and presently Erskine entered the room, saluted, andsaid:
"I've come to report, sir, I have sunk everything that tried to get inthrough Spithead. First division of three destroyers, the old _Leger_,the _Dupleix_ cruiser, six destroyers of the second division, and threecruisers, the _Alger_, _Suchet_ and _Davout_. They're all at thebottom."
The Commodore stared for a moment or two at the man who so quietlydescribed the terrific destruction that he had wrought with a singleship, and then he said:
"Well, Erskine, we expected a good deal from that infernal craft ofyours, but this is rather more than we could have hoped for. You've donesplendidly. Now, what's your best speed?"
"Forty-five knots, sir."
"Good Lord!" exclaimed the Commander of the _Greyhound_. "You don't sayso."
"Oh, yes," said Erskine with a smile. "You ought to have seen us walkover those destroyers. I hit them at full speed, and they crumpled uplike paper boats."
By this time the Commodore had sat down, and was writing his report asfast as he could get his pencil over the paper. It was a short, terse,but quite comprehensive account of the happenings of the last threehours, and a clear statement of the strength and position of the torpedoand cruiser squadron under his command. When he had finished, he put thepaper into an envelope, and said to the Commander of the _Greyhound_:
"I am afraid you are no good here, Hawkins. I shall have to give themessage to Captain Erskine, he'll be there and back before you're there.Just give him the bearings of the Fleet and he'll be off at once. Thereyou are, Erskine, give that to the Admiral, and bring me instructionsback as soon as you can. You've just time for a whisky-and-soda, andthen you must be off."
Erskine took the letter, and they drank their whisky-and-soda. Then theywent on deck. The _Ithuriel_ was lying outside the _Greyhound_, halfsubmerged--that is to say, with three feet of freeboard showing.Commander Hawkins looked at her with envious eyes. It is an article offaith with all good commanders of destroyers that their own craft is thefastest and most efficient of her class. At a pinch he could getthirty-two knots out of the _Greyhound_, and here was this quiet,determined-looking young man, who had created a vessel of his own, andhad reached the rank of captain by sheer genius over the heads of menten years older than himself, talking calmly of forty-five knots, and ofthe sinking of destroyers and cruisers, as though it was a mere matterof cracking egg-shells. Wherefore there was wrath in his soul when hewent on board and gave the order to cast loose. Erskine went with him.They shook hands on the deck of the _Greyhound_, and Erskine went aboardof the _Ithuriel_, saying:
"Well, Hawkins, I expect I shall meet you coming back."
"I'm damned if I believe in your forty-five knots," replied CaptainHawkins, shortly.
"Cast off, and come with me then," laughed Erskine, "you soon will."
Inside three minutes the two craft were clear of the _Diadem_. Erskinegave the _Greyhound_ right of way until they had cleared the squadron.The sea was smooth, and there was scarcely any wind, for it had been awonderfully fine November. The _Greyhound_ got on her thirty-two knotsas soon as there was no danger of hitting anything.
"That chap thinks he can race us," said Erskine to Lennard, as he gotinto the conning-tower, "and I'm just going to make him the maddest manin the British navy. He's doing thirty-two--we're doing twenty-five. Nowthat we're clear I'll wake him up." He took down the receiver and said:
"Pump her out, Castellan, and give her full speed as soon as you can."
The _Ithuriel_ rose in the water, and began to shudder from stem tostern with the vibrations of the engines, as they gradually worked up totheir highest capacity. Commander Hawkins saw something coming upastern, half hidden by a cloud of spray and foam. It went past him asthough he had been standing still instead of steaming at thirty-twoknots. A few moments more and it was lost in the darkness.
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