Concerning Astronomy And Oysters

: The World Peril Of 1910

In spite of the bold front that he had assumed during the interview, the

strain, not exactly of superstition but rather of supernaturalism which

runs so strongly in the Kaiser's family, made it impossible for him to

treat such a tremendous threat as the destruction of the world as an

alternative to universal peace by any means as lightly as he appeared to

his visitors to do; and when the audience was over he picked up the

/> envelope which Lennard had left upon the table, beckoned Count von

Moltke into his room behind, locked the door, and said:



"Now, Count, what is your opinion of this? At first sight it looks

ridiculous; but whoever this Lennard may be, it seems hardly likely that

two men like Lord Whittinghame and Lord Kitchener, two of the

coolest-headed and best-balanced men on earth, should take the trouble

to come down here as a deputation from the British Cabinet only to make

themselves ridiculous. Suppose we have a look at these papers?

Everything is in train for the advance. I daresay you and I understand

enough of mathematics between us to find out if there is anything

serious in them, and if so, they shall go to Herr Doellinger at once."



"I think it would be at least worth while to look through them, your

Majesty," replied the Count. "Like yourself, I find it rather difficult

to believe that this mysterious Mr Lennard, whoever he is, has been able

to impose upon the whole British Cabinet, to say nothing of Lord

Kitchener, who is about the best engineer and mathematician in the

British Army."



So the Count and the Kaiser sat down, and went through the elaborate and

yet beautifully clear calculations and diagrams, page by page, each

making notes as he went on. At the end of an hour the Kaiser looked over

his own notes, and said to von Moltke:



"Well, what is your opinion, Count?"



"I am not an astronomer, your Majesty, but these calculations certainly

appear to me to be correct as far as they go--that is, granted always

that the premisses from which Mr Lennard starts are correct. But

certainly I think that your Majesty will be wise in sending them as soon

as possible to Herr Doellinger."



"That is exactly the conclusion that I have come to myself," replied the

Kaiser. "I will write a note to Herr Doellinger, and one of the airships

must take it across to Potsdam. We can't afford to run any risks of that

infernal submarine ram or whatever she is. I would almost give an Army

corps for that ship. There's no doubt she's lost us three fleets, a

score of transports, and twenty thousand men in the last three days, and

she's just as much a mystery as ever. It's the most extraordinary

position a conquering army was ever put into before."



The Kaiser was perfectly right. There could be no doubt that up to the

present the invading forces had been victorious, thanks of course mainly

to the irresistible advantage of the airships, but also in no small

degree to the hopeless unpreparedness of the British home armies to meet

an invasion, which both military and naval experts had simply refused to

believe possible.



The seizure of the line from Dover to Chatham had been accomplished in a

single night. A dozen airships patrolled the air ahead of the advancing

German forces, which of course far outnumbered the weak and

hastily-collected British forces which could be brought against them,

and which, attacked at once by land and from the air, never really had a

chance.



It was the most perfectly conducted invasion ever planned. The

construction trains which went in advance on both lines carried sections

of metals of English gauge, already fastened to sleepers, and ready to

lay down. Every little bridge and culvert had been known and was

provided for. Not a bolt nor a fishplate had been forgotten, and

moreover John Castellan's operations from the air had reduced the

destruction to a minimum, and the consequence was that twelve hours

after the Kaiser had landed at Dover he found himself in his

headquarters at Canterbury, whence the British garrison had been forced

to retire after heavy fighting along the lines of wooded hills behind

Maidstone.



It was the old, old story, the story of every war that England had gone

into and "muddled through" somehow; but with two differences. Her

soldiers had never had to fight an enemy in the skies before, and--there

was no time now to straighten out the muddle, even if every able-bodied

man in the United Kingdom had been trained soldiers, as the invaders

were.



But there was another element in the situation. Incredible as it might

seem to those ignorant of the tremendous forces brought into play, the

home fleets of Europe had been destroyed, practically to a ship, within

three days and nights. The narrow seas were deserted. On the morning of

the seventeenth, four transports attempting to cross from Hamburg to

Ramsgate, carrying a force of men, horses and light artillery, which was

intended to operate as a flying column along the northern shores of

Kent, had been rammed and sent to the bottom within fifteen minutes half

way between land and land, and not a man nor an animal had escaped.



There was no news from the expeditions which had been sent against Hull

and Newcastle--all the cables had been cut, save the transatlantic

lines, the cutting of which the United States had already declared they

would consider as an unfriendly act on the part of the Allies, and the

British cable from Gibraltar to the Lizard which connected with Palermo

and Rome, and so formed the link of communication between Britain and

the Mediterranean.



The British Mediterranean Fleet was coming home, so were the West Indian

and North American squadrons, while the squadron in the China seas was

also ordered home, via the Suez Canal, to form a conjunction with our

Italian Allies. Of course, these ships would in due time be dealt with

by the aerial submarines, but meanwhile commerce with Europe had become

impossible. Imports had stopped at most of the great ports through sheer

terror of this demon of the sea, which appeared to be here, there and

everywhere at the same time; and with all these powerful squadrons

converging upon the shores of Britain the problem of feeding and

generally keeping fit for war some three millions of men and over half a

million horses would soon begin to look distinctly serious.



Castellan's vessels had hunted in vain for this solitary vessel, which

single-handed, marvellous as it seemed, kept the narrow waters clear of

invaders. The truth of this matter, however, was very simple. The

Ithuriel was nearly twice as fast in the water as the Flying Fishes,

and she carried guns with an effective range of five miles, whereas they

only carried torpedoes.



For instance, during the battle of Sheerness, in which the remaining

units of the North Sea Squadron had, with the Ithuriel's aid, attacked

and destroyed every German and Russian battleship and transport,

Erskine's craft had done terrible execution without so much as being

seen until, when the last of the German Coast Defence ships had gone

down with all hands in the Great Nore, off the Nore lighthouse, whence

she was shelling Garrison Fort, the Ithuriel had risen above the water

for a few moments, and Denis Castellan had taken a cockshot with the

three forward guns at a couple of Flying Fishes that were circling

over the town and fort and river mouth.



The shells had time-fuses, and they were timed to the tenth of a

second. They burst simultaneously over the airships. Then came a rending

of the atmosphere, and descending streams of fire, which burst with a

rapid succession of sharp reports as they touched the airships. Then

came another blaze of light which seemed to darken the wintry sun for a

moment, and then another quaking of the air, after which what was left

of the two Flying Fishes fell in little fragments into the water,

splashing here and there as though they had been shingle ballast thrown

out of a balloon.



True, Garrison Fort had been blown up by the aerial torpedoes, and the

same fate was befalling the great forts at Tilbury, but their gallant

defenders did not die in vain, and, although the remainder of the aerial

squadron were able to go on and do their work of destruction on London,

whither the Ithuriel could not follow them, the wrecks of six

battleships, a dozen destroyers and ten transports strewed the

approaches to the Thames and the Medway, while nearly thirty thousand

soldiers and sailors would never salute the flag of Czar or Kaiser

again.



In all the history of war no such loss of men, ships and material had

ever taken place within the short space of three days and a few hours.

Four great fleets and nearly a hundred thousand men had been wiped out

of existence since the assault on Southern England had begun, and even

now, despite the airships, had the millions of Britain's able-bodied

men, who were grinding their teeth and clenching their fists in impotent

fury, been trained just to shoot and march, it would have been possible

to take the invaders between overwhelming masses of men--who would hold

their lives as nothing in comparison with their country's honour--and

the now impassable sea, and drive them back into it. But although men

and youths went in their tens of thousands to the recruiting stations

and demanded to be enlisted, it was no use. Soldiers are not made in a

day or a week, and the invaders of England had been making them for

forty years.



While the Kaiser and Count von Moltke were going through Lennard's

papers, and coming to the decision to send them to Potsdam, Lord

Whittinghame's motor, instead of returning to Chatham, was running up to

Whitstable to answer the telegram which Lennard had received at

Rochester. The German flag cleared them out of Canterbury. It was

already known that they had been received by the Kaiser, and therefore

their persons were sacred. In consequence of the loss of the squadron

attacking the Thames and Medway, and the destruction of the Ramsgate

flotilla, the country was not occupied by the enemy north of the great

main road through Canterbury and Faversham, and that was just why the

Ithuriel was lying snugly in the mouth of the East Swale River, about

three miles from the little town, with a shabby-looking lighter beside

her, from which she was taking in an extra complement of her own shells

and material for making Lennard's explosive, as well as a full load of

fuel for her engines. They pulled up at the door of the Bear and Key

Hotel, and as the motor came to a standstill a man dressed in the

costume of an ordinary worker on the oyster-beds came up, touched his

sou'wester, and said:



"Mr Lennard's car, gentlemen?"



"Yes, I'm here," said Lennard, shortly; "we've just left the Emperor at

Canterbury. How about those oysters? I should think you ought to do well

with them in Canterbury. Got plenty?"



"Yes, sir," replied the man. "If you will come down to the wharf I will

be able to show you a shipment that I can send along to-night if the

train comes from Canterbury."



"I think we might as well have a drop of something hot first, it's

rather cold riding."



The others nodded, and they went into the hotel without removing their

caps or goggles. They asked a waiter to show them into a private room,

as they had some business to do, and when four glasses of hot whisky and

water had been put on the table, Lennard locked the door and said:



"My lords, allow me to have the pleasure of introducing to you

Lieutenant Denis Castellan of His Majesty's cruiser Ithuriel."



Lord Whittinghame's and Lord Kitchener's hands went out together, and

the former said:



"Delighted to meet you, Mr Castellan. You and Captain Erskine have done

magnificently for us in spite of all our troubles. In fact, I don't know

what we should have done without you and this wonderful craft of yours."



"With all due deference to the Naval Council," said "K. of K," rather

bluntly, "it's a pity they didn't put down a dozen of her. But what

about these oysters that you telegraphed to Mr Lennard about?"



"There is only one oyster in question at present, my lord," said Denis,

with an entirely Irish smile, "but it's rather a big one. It's the

German Emperor's yacht, the Hohenzollern. She managed to run across,

and get into Ramsgate, while we were up here in the Thames--that's the

worst of there being only one of us, as we can only attend to one piece

of business at a time. Now, she's lying there waiting the Kaiser's

orders, in case he wants to take a trip across, and it seems to me that

she'd be worth the watching for a day or two--she'd be a big prize, you

know, gentlemen, especially if we could catch her with the War Lord of

Germany on board her. I don't think myself that His Majesty would have

any great taste for a trip to the bottom of the North Sea, just when he

thinks he's beginning the conquest of England so nicely, and, by the

Powers, we'd send him there if he got into one of his awkward tempers

with us."



Lord Kitchener, who was in England acting as Chief-of-the-Staff to the

Duke of Connaught, and general adviser to the Council of National

Defence, took Lord Whittinghame to the other end of the room, and said

a few words to him in a low tone, and he came back and said:



"It is certainly worth trying, even if you can only catch the ship; but

we don't think you'll catch the Kaiser. The fact is, you seem to have

established such a holy terror in these waters that I don't think he

would trust his Imperial person between here and Germany. If he did go

across, he'd probably go in an airship. But if you can bring the

Hohenzollern up to Tilbury--of course, under the German flag--I think

we shall be able to make good use of her. If she won't come, sink her."



"Very good, my lords," said Denis, saluting. "If she's not coming up the

Thames to-morrow night with the Ithuriel under her stern, ye'll know

that she's on the bottom in pieces somewhere. And now," he continued,

taking a long envelope from an inner pocket, "here is the full report of

our doings since the war began, with return of ships sunk, crippled and

escaped; number of men landed, and so on, according to instructions. We

will report again to-morrow night, I hope, with the Hohenzollern."



They shook hands and wished him good-night and good luck, and in half an

hour the Ithuriel was running half-submerged eastward along the coast,

and the motor was on its way to Faversham by the northern road, as there

were certain reasons why it should not go back through Canterbury.



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