The Great War Syndicate

: The Great War Syndicate

Author of "The Lady or the Tiger," "Rudder Grange,"

"The Casting Away of Mrs. Lecks and Mrs.

Aleshine," "What Might Have Been

Expected," etc., etc.











In the spring of a certain year, not far from the close of the

nineteenth century, when the political relations between the United

States and Great Britain became so strained that
careful observers on

both sides of the Atlantic were forced to the belief that a serious

break in these relations might be looked for at any time, the fishing

schooner Eliza Drum sailed from a port in Maine for the banks of

Newfoundland.



It was in this year that a new system of protection for American

fishing vessels had been adopted in Washington. Every fleet of these

vessels was accompanied by one or more United States cruisers, which

remained on the fishing grounds, not only for the purpose of warning

American craft who might approach too near the three-mile limit, but

also to overlook the action of the British naval vessels on the coast,

and to interfere, at least by protest, with such seizures of American

fishing boats as might appear to be unjust. In the opinion of all

persons of sober judgment, there was nothing in the condition of

affairs at this time so dangerous to the peace of the two countries as

the presence of these American cruisers in the fishing waters.



The Eliza Drum was late in her arrival on the fishing grounds, and

having, under orders from Washington, reported to the commander of the

Lennehaha, the United States vessel in charge at that place, her

captain and crew went vigorously to work to make up for lost time.

They worked so vigorously, and with eyes so single to the catching of

fish, that on the morning of the day after their arrival, they were

hauling up cod at a point which, according to the nationality of the

calculator, might be two and three-quarters or three and one-quarter

miles from the Canadian coast.



In consequence of this inattention to the apparent extent of the marine

mile, the Eliza Drum, a little before noon, was overhauled and seized

by the British cruiser, Dog Star. A few miles away the Lennehaha had

perceived the dangerous position of the Eliza Drum, and had started

toward her to warn her to take a less doubtful position. But before

she arrived the capture had taken place. When he reached the spot

where the Eliza Drum had been fishing, the commander of the Lennehaha

made an observation of the distance from the shore, and calculated it

to be more than three miles. When he sent an officer in a boat to the

Dog Star to state the result of his computations, the captain of the

British vessel replied that he was satisfied the distance was less than

three miles, and that he was now about to take the Eliza Drum into port.



On receiving this information, the commander of the Lennehaha steamed

closer to the Dog Star, and informed her captain, by means of a

speaking-trumpet, that if he took the Eliza Drum into a Canadian port,

he would first have to sail over his ship. To this the captain of the

Dog Star replied that he did not in the least object to sail over the

Lennehaha, and proceeded to put a prize crew on board the fishing

vessel.



At this juncture the captain of the Eliza Drum ran up a large American

flag; in five minutes afterward the captain of the prize crew hauled it

down; in less than ten minutes after this the Lennehaha and the Dog

Star were blazing at each other with their bow guns. The spark had

been struck.



The contest was not a long one. The Dog Star was of much greater

tonnage and heavier armament than her antagonist, and early in the

afternoon she steamed for St. John's, taking with her as prizes both

the Eliza Drum and the Lennehaha.



All that night, at every point in the United States which was reached

by telegraph, there burned a smothered fire; and the next morning, when

the regular and extra editions of the newspapers were poured out upon

the land, the fire burst into a roaring blaze. From lakes to gulf,

from ocean to ocean, on mountain and plain, in city and prairie, it

roared and blazed. Parties, sections, politics, were all forgotten.

Every American formed part of an electric system; the same fire flashed

into every soul. No matter what might be thought on the morrow, or in

the coming days which might bring better under-standing, this day the

unreasoning fire blazed and roared.



With morning newspapers in their hands, men rushed from the

breakfast-tables into the streets to meet their fellow-men. What was

it that they should do?



Detailed accounts of the affair came rapidly, but there was nothing in

them to quiet the national indignation; the American flag had been

hauled down by Englishmen, an American naval vessel had been fired into

and captured; that was enough! No matter whether the Eliza Drum was

within the three-mile limit or not! No matter which vessel fired

first! If it were the Lennehaha, the more honour to her; she ought to

have done it! From platform, pulpit, stump, and editorial office came

one vehement, passionate shout directed toward Washington.



Congress was in session, and in its halls the fire roared louder and

blazed higher than on mountain or plain, in city or prairie. No member

of the Government, from President to page, ventured to oppose the

tempestuous demands of the people. The day for argument upon the

exciting question had been a long weary one, and it had gone by in less

than a week the great shout of the people was answered by a declaration

of war against Great Britain.



When this had been done, those who demanded war breathed easier, but

those who must direct the war breathed harder.



It was indeed a time for hard breathing, but the great mass of the

people perceived no reason why this should be. Money there was in vast

abundance. In every State well-drilled men, by thousands, stood ready

for the word to march, and the military experience and knowledge given

by a great war was yet strong upon the nation.



To the people at large the plan of the war appeared a very obvious and

a very simple one. Canada had given the offence, Canada should be made

to pay the penalty. In a very short time, one hundred thousand, two

hundred thousand, five hundred thousand men, if necessary, could be

made ready for the invasion of Canada. From platform, pulpit, stump,

and editorial office came the cry: "On to Canada!"



At the seat of Government, however, the plan of the war did not appear

so obvious, so simple. Throwing a great army into Canada was all well

enough, and that army would probably do well enough; but the question

which produced hard breathing in the executive branch of the Government

was the immediate protection of the sea-coast, Atlantic, Gulf, and even

Pacific.



In a storm of national indignation war had been declared against a

power which at this period of her history had brought up her naval

forces to a point double in strength to that of any other country in

the world. And this war had been declared by a nation which,

comparatively speaking, possessed no naval strength at all.



For some years the United States navy had been steadily improving, but

this improvement was not sufficient to make it worthy of reliance at

this crisis. As has been said, there was money enough, and every

ship-yard in the country could be set to work to build ironclad

men-of-war: but it takes a long time to build ships, and England's navy

was afloat. It was the British keel that America had to fear.



By means of the continental cables it was known that many of the

largest mail vessels of the British transatlantic lines, which had been

withdrawn upon the declaration of war, were preparing in British ports

to transport troops to Canada. It was not impossible that these great

steamers might land an army in Canada before an American army could be

organized and marched to that province. It might be that the United

States would be forced to defend her borders, instead of invading those

of the enemy.



In every fort and navy-yard all was activity; the hammering of iron

went on by day and by night; but what was to be done when the great

ironclads of England hammered upon our defences? How long would it be

before the American flag would be seen no more upon the high seas?



It is not surprising that the Government found its position one of

perilous responsibility. A wrathful nation expected of it more than it

could perform.



All over the country, however, there were thoughtful men, not connected

with the Government, who saw the perilous features of the situation;

and day by day these grew less afraid of being considered traitors, and

more willing to declare their convictions of the country's danger.

Despite the continuance of the national enthusiasm, doubts,

perplexities, and fears began to show themselves.



In the States bordering upon Canada a reactionary feeling became

evident. Unless the United States navy could prevent England from

rapidly pouring into Canada, not only her own troops, but perhaps those

of allied nations, these Northern States might become the scene of

warfare, and whatever the issue of the contest, their lands might be

ravished, their people suffer.



From many quarters urgent demands were now pressed upon the Government.

From the interior there were clamours for troops to be massed on the

Northern frontier, and from the seaboard cities there came a cry for

ships that were worthy to be called men-of-war,--ships to defend the

harbours and bays, ships to repel an invasion by sea. Suggestions were

innumerable. There was no time to build, it was urged; the Government

could call upon friendly nations. But wise men smiled sadly at these

suggestions; it was difficult to find a nation desirous of a war with

England.



In the midst of the enthusiasms, the fears, and the suggestions, came

reports of the capture of American merchantmen by fast British

cruisers. These reports made the American people more furious, the

American Government more anxious.



Almost from the beginning of this period of national turmoil, a party

of gentlemen met daily in one of the large rooms in a hotel in New

York. At first there were eleven of these men, all from the great

Atlantic cities, but their number increased by arrivals from other

parts of the country, until at last they, numbered twenty-three. These

gentlemen were all great capitalists, and accustomed to occupying

themselves with great enterprises. By day and by night they met

together with closed doors, until they had matured the scheme which

they had been considering. As soon as this work was done, a committee

was sent to Washington, to submit a plan to the Government.



These twenty-three men had formed themselves into a Syndicate, with the

object of taking entire charge of the war between the United States and

Great Britain.



This proposition was an astounding one, but the Government was obliged

to treat it with respectful consideration. The men who offered it were

a power in the land,--a power which no government could afford to

disregard.



The plan of the Syndicate was comprehensive, direct, and simple. It

offered to assume the entire control and expense of the war, and to

effect a satisfactory peace within one year. As a guarantee that this

contract would be properly performed, an immense sum of money would be

deposited in the Treasury at Washington. Should the Syndicate be

unsuccessful, this sum would be forfeited, and it would receive no pay

for anything it had done.



The sum to be paid by the Government to the Syndicate, should it bring

the war to a satisfactory conclusion, would depend upon the duration of

hostilities. That is to say, that as the shorter the duration of the

war, the greater would be the benefit to the country, therefore, the

larger must be the pay to the Syndicate. According to the proposed

contract, the Syndicate would receive, if the war should continue for a

year, one-quarter the sum stipulated to be paid if peace should be

declared in three months.



If at any time during the conduct of the war by the Syndicate an

American seaport should be taken by the enemy, or a British force

landed on any point of the seacoast, the contract should be considered

at an end, and security and payment forfeited. If any point on the

northern boundary of the United States should be taken and occupied by

the enemy, one million dollars of the deposited security should be

forfeited for every such occupation, but the contract should continue.



It was stipulated that the land and naval forces of the United States

should remain under the entire control of the Government, but should be

maintained as a defensive force, and not brought into action unless any

failure on the part of the Syndicate should render such action

necessary.



The state of feeling in governmental circles, and the evidences of

alarm and distrust which were becoming apparent in Congress and among

the people, exerted an important influence in favour of the Syndicate.

The Government caught at its proposition, not as if it were a straw,

but as if it were a life-raft. The men who offered to relieve the

executive departments of their perilous responsibilities were men of

great ability, prominent positions, and vast resources, whose vast

enterprises had already made them known all over the globe. Such men

were not likely to jeopardize their reputations and fortunes in a case

like this, unless they had well-founded reasons for believing that they

would be successful. Even the largest amount stipulated to be paid

them in case of success would be less than the ordinary estimates for

the military and naval operations which had been anticipated; and in

case of failure, the amount forfeited would go far to repair the losses

which might be sustained by the citizens of the various States.



At all events, should the Syndicate be allowed to take immediate

control of the war, there would be time to put the army and navy,

especially the latter, in better condition to carry on the contest in

case of the failure of the Syndicate. Organization and construction

might still go on, and, should it be necessary, the army and navy could

step into the contest fresh and well prepared.



All branches of the Government united in accepting the offer of the

Syndicate. The contract was signed, and the world waited to see what

would happen next.



The influence which for years had been exerted by the interests

controlled by the men composing the Syndicate, had its effect in

producing a popular confidence in the power of the members of the

Syndicate to conduct a war as successfully as they had conducted other

gigantic enterprises. Therefore, although predictions of disaster came

from many quarters, the American public appeared willing to wait with

but moderate impatience for the result of this novel undertaking.



The Government now proceeded to mass troops at important points on the

northern frontier; forts were supplied with men and armaments, all

coast defences were put in the best possible condition, the navy was

stationed at important ports, and work at the shipyards went on. But

without reference to all this, the work of the Syndicate immediately

began.



This body of men were of various politics and of various pursuits in

life. But politics were no more regarded in the work they had

undertaken than they would have been in the purchase of land or of

railroad iron. No manifestoes of motives and intentions were issued to

the public. The Syndicate simply went to work. There could be no

doubt that early success would be a direct profit to it, but there

could also be no doubt that its success would be a vast benefit and

profit, not only to the business enterprises in which these men were

severally engaged, but to the business of the whole country. To save

the United States from a dragging war, and to save themselves from the

effects of it, were the prompting motives for the formation of the

Syndicate.



Without hesitation, the Syndicate determined that the war in which it

was about to engage should be one of defence by means of offence. Such

a war must necessarily be quick and effective; and with all the force

of their fortunes, their minds, and their bodies, its members went to

work to wage this war quickly and effectively.



All known inventions and improvements in the art of war had been

thoroughly considered by the Syndicate, and by the eminent specialists

whom it had enlisted in its service. Certain recently perfected

engines of war, novel in nature, were the exclusive property of the

Syndicate. It was known, or surmised, in certain quarters that the

Syndicate had secured possession of important warlike inventions; but

what they were and how they acted was a secret carefully guarded and

protected.



The first step of the Syndicate was to purchase from the United States

Government ten war-vessels. These were of medium size and in good

condition, but they were of an old-fashioned type, and it had not been

considered expedient to put them in commission. This action caused

surprise and disappointment in many quarters. It had been supposed

that the Syndicate, through its agents scattered all over the world,

would immediately acquire, by purchase or lease, a fleet of fine

ironclads culled from various maritime powers. But the Syndicate

having no intention of involving, or attempting to involve, other

countries in this quarrel, paid no attention to public opinion, and

went to work in its own way.



Its vessels, eight of which were on the Atlantic coast and two on the

Pacific, were rapidly prepared for the peculiar service in which they

were to be engaged. The resources of the Syndicate were great, and in

a very short time several of their vessels, already heavily plated with

steel, were furnished with an additional outside armour, formed of

strips of elastic steel, each reaching from the gunwales nearly to the

surface of the water. These strips, about a foot wide, and placed an

inch or two apart, were each backed by several powerful air-buffers, so

that a ball striking one or more of them would be deprived of much of

its momentum. The experiments upon the steel spring and buffers

adopted by the Syndicate showed that the force of the heaviest

cannonading was almost deadened by the powerful elasticity of this

armour.



The armament of each vessel consisted of but one gun, of large calibre,

placed on the forward deck, and protected by a bomb-proof covering.

Each vessel was manned by a captain and crew from the merchant service,

from whom no warlike duties were expected. The fighting operations

were in charge of a small body of men, composed of two or three

scientific specialists, and some practical gunners and their

assistants. A few bomb-proof canopies and a curved steel deck

completed the defences of the vessel.



Besides equipping this little navy, the Syndicate set about the

construction of certain sea-going vessels of an extraordinary kind. So

great were the facilities at its command, and so thorough and complete

its methods, that ten or a dozen ship-yards and foundries were set to

work simultaneously to build one of these ships. In a marvellously

short time the Syndicate possessed several of them ready for action.



These vessels became technically known as "crabs." They were not large,

and the only part of them which projected above the water was the

middle of an elliptical deck, slightly convex, and heavily mailed with

ribs of steel. These vessels were fitted with electric engines of

extraordinary power, and were capable of great speed. At their bows,

fully protected by the overhanging deck, was the machinery by which

their peculiar work was to be accomplished. The Syndicate intended to

confine itself to marine operations, and for the present it was

contented with these two classes of vessels.



The armament for each of the large vessels, as has been said before,

consisted of a single gun of long range, and the ammunition was

confined entirely to a new style of projectile, which had never yet

been used in warfare. The material and construction of this projectile

were known only to three members of the Syndicate, who had invented and

perfected it, and it was on account of their possession of this secret

that they had been invited to join that body.



This projectile was not, in the ordinary sense of the word, an

explosive, and was named by its inventors, "The Instantaneous Motor."

It was discharged from an ordinary cannon, but no gunpowder or other

explosive compound was used to propel it. The bomb possessed, in

itself the necessary power of propulsion, and the gun was used merely

to give it the proper direction.



These bombs were cylindrical in form, and pointed at the outer end.

They were filled with hundreds of small tubes, each radiating outward

from a central line. Those in the middle third of the bomb pointed

directly outward, while those in its front portion were inclined

forward at a slight angle, and those in the rear portion backward at

the same angle. One tube at the end of the bomb, and pointing directly

backward, furnished the motive power.



Each of these tubes could exert a force sufficient to move an ordinary

train of passenger cars one mile, and this power could be exerted

instantaneously, so that the difference in time in the starting of a

train at one end of the mile and its arrival at the other would not be

appreciable. The difference in concussionary force between a train

moving at the rate of a mile in two minutes, or even one minute, and

another train which moves a mile in an instant, can easily be imagined.



In these bombs, those tubes which might direct their powers downward or

laterally upon the earth were capable of instantaneously propelling

every portion of solid ground or rock to a distance of two or three

hundred yards, while the particles of objects on the surface of the

earth were instantaneously removed to a far greater distance. The tube

which propelled the bomb was of a force graduated according to

circumstances, and it would carry a bomb to as great a distance as

accurate observation for purposes of aim could be made. Its force was

brought into action while in the cannon by means of electricity while

the same effect was produced in the other tubes by the concussion of

the steel head against the object aimed at.



What gave the tubes their power was the jealously guarded secret.



The method of aiming was as novel as the bomb itself. In this process

nothing depended on the eyesight of the gunner; the personal equation

was entirely eliminated. The gun was so mounted that its direction was

accurately indicated by graduated scales; there was an instrument which

was acted upon by the dip, rise, or roll of the vessel, and which

showed at any moment the position of the gun with reference to the

plane of the sea-surface.



Before the discharge of the cannon an observation was taken by one of

the scientific men, which accurately determined the distance to the

object to be aimed at, and reference to a carefully prepared

mathematical table showed to what points on the graduated scales the

gun should be adjusted, and the instant that the that the muzzle of the

cannon was in the position that it was when the observation was taken,

a button was touched and the bomb was instantaneously placed on the

spot aimed at. The exactness with which the propelling force of the

bomb could be determined was an important factor in this method of

aiming.



As soon as three of the spring-armoured vessels and five "crabs" were

completed, the Syndicate felt itself ready to begin operations. It was

indeed time. The seas had been covered with American and British

merchantmen hastening homeward, or to friendly ports, before the actual

commencement of hostilities. But all had not been fortunate enough to

reach safety within the limits of time allowed, and several American

merchantmen had been already captured by fast British cruisers.



The members of the Syndicate well understood that if a war was to be

carried on as they desired, they must strike the first real blow.

Comparatively speaking, a very short time had elapsed since the

declaration of war, and the opportunity to take the initiative was

still open.



It was in order to take this initiative that, in the early hours of a

July morning, two of the Syndicate's armoured vessels, each accompanied

by a crab, steamed out of a New England port, and headed for the point

on the Canadian coast where it had been decided to open the campaign.



The vessels of the Syndicate had no individual names. The

spring-armoured ships were termed "repellers," and were numbered, and

the crabs were known by the letters of the alphabet. Each repeller was

in charge of a Director of Naval Operations; and the whole naval force

of the Syndicate was under the command of a Director-in-chief. On this

momentous occasion this officer was on board of Repeller No. 1, and

commanded the little fleet.



The repellers had never been vessels of great speed, and their present

armour of steel strips, the lower portion of which was frequently under

water, considerably retarded their progress; but each of them was taken

in tow by one of the swift and powerful crabs, and with this assistance

they made very good time, reaching their destination on the morning of

the second day.



It was on a breezy day, with a cloudy sky, and the sea moderately

smooth, that the little fleet of the Syndicate lay to off the harbour

of one of the principal Canadian seaports. About five miles away the

headlands on either side of the mouth of the harbour could be plainly

seen. It had been decided that Repeller No. 1 should begin operations.

Accordingly, that vessel steamed about a mile nearer the harbour,

accompanied by Crab A. The other repeller and crab remained in their

first position, ready to act in case they should be needed.



The approach of two vessels, evidently men-of-war, and carrying the

American flag, was perceived from the forts and redoubts at the mouth

of the harbour, and the news quickly spread to the city and to the

vessels in port. Intense excitement ensued on land and water, among

the citizens of the place as well as its defenders. Every man who had

a post of duty was instantly at it; and in less than half an hour the

British man-of-war Scarabaeus, which had been lying at anchor a short

distance outside the harbour, came steaming out to meet the enemy.

There were other naval vessels in port, but they required more time to

be put in readiness for action.



As soon as the approach of Scarabaeus was perceived by Repeller No. 1,

a boat bearing a white flag was lowered from that vessel and was

rapidly rowed toward the British ship. When the latter saw the boat

coming she lay to, and waited its arrival. A note was delivered to the

captain of the Scarabaeus, in which it was stated that the Syndicate,

which had undertaken on the part of the United States the conduct of

the war between that country and Great Britain, was now prepared to

demand the surrender of this city with its forts and defences and all

vessels within its harbour, and, as a first step, the immediate

surrender of the vessel to the commander of which this note was

delivered.



The overwhelming effrontery of this demand caused the commander of the

Scarabaeus to doubt whether he had to deal with a raving lunatic or a

blustering fool; but he informed the person in charge of the

flag-of-truce boat, that he would give him fifteen minutes in which to

get back to his vessel, and that he would then open fire upon that

craft.



The men who rowed the little boat were not men-of-war's men, and were

unaccustomed to duties of this kind. In eight minutes they had reached

their vessel, and were safe on board.



Just seven minutes afterward the first shot came from the Scarabaeus.

It passed over Repeller No. 1, and that vessel, instead of replying,

immediately steamed nearer her adversary. The Director-in-chief

desired to determine the effect of an active cannonade upon the new

armour, and therefore ordered the vessel placed in such a position that

the Englishman might have the best opportunity for using it as a target.



The Scarabaeus lost no time in availing herself of the facilities

offered. She was a large and powerful ship, with a heavy armament;

and, soon getting the range of the Syndicate's vessel, she hurled ball

after ball upon her striped side. Repeller No. 1 made no reply, but

quietly submitted to the terrible bombardment. Some of the great shot

jarred her from bow to stern, but not one of them broke a steel spring,

nor penetrated the heavy inside plates.



After half an hour of this, work the Director-in-chief became satisfied

that the new armour had well acquitted itself in the severe trial to

which it had been subjected. Some of the air-buffers had been

disabled, probably on account of faults in their construction, but

these could readily be replaced, and no further injury had been done

the vessel. It was not necessary, therefore, to continue the

experiment any longer, and besides, there was danger that the

Englishman, perceiving that his antagonist did not appear to be

affected by his fire, would approach closer and endeavour to ram her.

This was to be avoided, for the Scarabaeus was a much larger vessel

than Repeller No. 1, and able to run into the latter and sink her by

mere preponderance of weight.



It was therefore decided to now test the powers of the crabs. Signals

were made from Repeller No. 1 to Crab A, which had been lying with the

larger vessel between it and the enemy. These signals were made by

jets of dense black smoke, which were ejected from a small pipe on the

repeller. These slender columns of smoke preserved their cylindrical

forms for some moments, and were visible at a great distance by day or

night, being illumined in the latter case by electric light. The

length and frequency of these jets were regulated by an instrument in

the Director's room. Thus, by means of long and short puffs, with the

proper use of intervals, a message could be projected into the air as a

telegraphic instrument would mark it upon paper.



In this manner Crab A was ordered to immediately proceed to the attack

of the Scarabaeus. The almost submerged vessel steamed rapidly from

behind her consort, and made for the British man-of-war.



When the latter vessel perceived the approach of this turtle-backed

object, squirting little jets of black smoke as she replied to the

orders from the repeller, there was great amazement on board. The crab

had not been seen before, but as it came rapidly on there was no time

for curiosity or discussion, and several heavy guns were brought to

bear upon it. It was difficult to hit a rapidly moving flat object

scarcely above the surface of the water; and although several shot

struck the crab, they glanced off without in the least interfering with

its progress.



Crab A soon came so near the Scarabaeus that it was impossible to

depress the guns of the latter so as to strike her. The great vessel

was, therefore, headed toward its assailant, and under a full head of

steam dashed directly at it to run it down. But the crab could turn as

upon a pivot, and shooting to one side allowed the surging man-of-war

to pass it.



Perceiving instantly that it would be difficult to strike this nimble

and almost submerged adversary, the commander of the Scarabaeus thought

it well to let it alone for the present, and to bear down with all

speed upon the repeller. But it was easier to hit the crab than to

leave it behind. It was capable of great speed, and, following the

British vessel, it quickly came up with her.



The course of the Scarabaeus was instantly changed, and every effort

was made to get the vessel into a position to run down the crab. But

this was not easy for so large a ship, and Crab A seemed to have no

difficulty in keeping close to her stern.



Several machine-guns, especially adopted for firing at torpedo-boats or

any hostile craft which might be discovered close to a vessel, were now

brought to bear upon the crab, and ball after ball was hurled at her.

Some of these struck, but glanced off without penetrating her tough

armour.



These manoeuvres had not continued long, when the crew of the crab was

ready to bring into action the peculiar apparatus of that peculiar

craft. An enormous pair of iron forceps, each massive limb of which

measured twelve feet or more in length, was run out in front of the

crab at a depth of six or eight feet below the surface. These forceps

were acted upon by an electric engine of immense power, by which they

could be shut, opened, projected, withdrawn, or turned and twisted.



The crab darted forward, and in the next instant the great teeth of her

pincers were fastened with a tremendous grip upon the rudder and

rudder-post of the Scarabaeus.



Then followed a sudden twist, which sent a thrill through both vessels;

a crash; a backward jerk; the snapping of a chain; and in a moment the

great rudder, with half of the rudder-post attached, was torn from the

vessel, and as the forceps opened it dropped to leeward and hung

dangling by one chain.



Again the forceps opened wide; again there was a rush; and this time

the huge jaws closed upon the rapidly revolving screw-propeller. There

was a tremendous crash, and the small but massive crab turned over so

far that for an instant one of its sides was plainly visible above the

water. The blades of the propeller were crushed and shivered; those

parts of the steamer's engines connecting with the propeller-shaft were

snapped and rent apart, while the propeller-shaft itself was broken by

the violent stoppage.



The crab, which had quickly righted, now backed, still holding the

crushed propeller in its iron grasp, and as it moved away from the

Scarabaeus, it extracted about forty feet of its propeller-shaft; then,

opening its massive jaws, it allowed the useless mass of iron to drop

to the bottom of the sea.



Every man on board the Scarabaeus was wild with amazement and

excitement. Few could comprehend what had happened, but this very

quickly became evident. So far as motive power was concerned, the

Scarabaeus was totally, disabled. She could not direct her course, for

her rudder was gone, her propeller was gone, her engines were useless,

and she could do no more than float as wind or tide might move her.

Moreover, there was a jagged hole in her stern where the shaft had

been, and through this the water was pouring into the vessel. As a

man-of-war the Scarabaeus was worthless.



Orders now came fast from Repeller No. 1, which had moved nearer to the

scene of conflict. It was to be supposed that the disabled ship was

properly furnished with bulk-heads, so that the water would penetrate

no farther than the stern compartment, and that, therefore, she was in

no danger of sinking. Crab A was ordered to make fast to the bow of

the Scarabaeus, and tow her toward two men-of-war who were rapidly

approaching from the harbour.



This proceeding astonished the commander and officers of the Scarabaeus

almost as much as the extraordinary attack which had been made upon

their ship. They had expected a demand to surrender and haul down

their flag; but the Director-in-chief on board Repeller No. 1 was of

the opinion that with her propeller extracted it mattered little what

flag she flew. His work with the Scarabaeus was over; for it had been

ordered by the Syndicate that its vessels should not encumber

themselves with prizes.



Towed by the powerful crab, which apparently had no fear that its

disabled adversary might fire upon it, the Scarabaeus moved toward the

harbour, and when it had come within a quarter of a mile of the

foremost British vessel, Crab A cast off and steamed back to Repeller

No. 1.



The other English vessels soon came up, and each lay to and sent a boat

to the Scarabaeus. After half an hour's consultation, in which the

amazement of those on board the damaged vessel was communicated to the

officers and crews of her two consorts, it was determined that the

smaller of these should tow the disabled ship into port, while the

other one, in company with a man-of-war just coming out of the harbour,

should make an attack upon Repeller No. 1.



It had been plainly proved that ordinary shot and shell had no effect

upon this craft; but it had not been proved that she could withstand

the rams of powerful ironclads. If this vessel, that apparently

carried no guns, or, at least, had used none, could be crushed,

capsized, sunk, or in any way put out of the fight, it was probable

that the dangerous submerged nautical machine would not care to remain

in these waters. If it remained it must be destroyed by torpedoes.



Signals were exchanged between the two English vessels, and in a very

short time they were steaming toward the repeller. It was a dangerous

thing for two vessels of their size to come close enough together for

both to ram an enemy at the same time, but it was determined to take

the risks and do this, if possible; for the destruction of the repeller

was obviously the first duty in hand.



As the two men-of-war rapidly approached Repeller No. 1, they kept up a

steady fire upon her; for if in this way they could damage her, the

easier would be their task. With a firm reliance upon the efficacy of

the steel-spring armour, the Director-in-chief felt no fear of the

enemy's shot and shell; but he was not at all willing that his vessel

should be rammed, for the consequences would probably be disastrous.

Accordingly he did not wait for the approach of the two vessels, but

steering seaward, he signalled for the other crab.



When Crab B made its appearance, puffing its little black jets of

smoke, as it answered the signals of the Director-in-chief, the

commanders of the two British vessels were surprised. They had

imagined that there was only one of these strange and terrible enemies,

and had supposed that she would be afraid to make her peculiar attack

upon one of them, because while doing so she would expose herself to

the danger of being run down by the other. But the presence of two of

these almost submerged engines of destruction entirely changed the

situation.



But the commanders of the British ships were brave men. They had

started to run down the strangely armoured American craft, and run her

down they would, if they could. They put on more steam, and went ahead

at greater speed. In such a furious onslaught the crabs might not dare

to attack them.



But they did not understand the nature nor the powers of these enemies.

In less than twenty minutes Crab A had laid hold of one of the

men-of-war, and Crab B of the other. The rudders of both were

shattered and torn away; and while the blades of one propeller were

crushed to pieces, the other, with nearly half its shaft, was drawn out

and dropped into the ocean. Helplessly the two men-of-war rose and

fell upon the waves.



In obedience to orders from the repeller, each crab took hold of one of

the disabled vessels, and towed it near the mouth of the harbour, where

it was left.



The city was now in a state of feverish excitement, which was

intensified by the fact that a majority of the people did not

understand what had happened, while those to whom this had been made

plain could not comprehend why such a thing should have been allowed to

happen. Three of Her Majesty's ships of war, equipped and ready for

action, had sailed out of the harbour, and an apparently insignificant

enemy, without firing a gun, had put them into such a condition that

they were utterly unfit for service, and must be towed into a dry dock.

How could the Government, the municipality, the army, or the navy

explain this?



The anxiety, the excitement, the nervous desire to know what had

happened, and what might be expected next, spread that evening to every

part of the Dominion reached by telegraph.



The military authorities in charge of the defences of the city were as

much disturbed and amazed by what had happened as any civilian could

possibly be, but they had no fears for the safety of the place, for the

enemy's vessels could not possibly enter, nor even approach, the

harbour. The fortifications on the heights mounted guns much heavier

than those on the men-of-war, and shots from these fired from an

elevation might sink even those "underwater devils." But, more than on

the forts, they relied upon their admirable system of torpedoes and

submarine batteries. With these in position and ready for action, as

they now were, it was impossible for an enemy's vessel, floating on the

water or under it, to enter the harbour without certain destruction.



Bulletins to this effect were posted in the city, and somewhat allayed

the popular anxiety, although many people, who were fearful of what

might happen next, left by the evening trains for the interior. That

night the news of this extraordinary affair was cabled to Europe, and

thence back to the United States, and all over the world. In many

quarters the account was disbelieved, and in no quarter was it

thoroughly understood, for it must be borne in mind that the methods of

operation employed by the crabs were not evident to those on board the

disabled vessels. But everywhere there was the greatest desire to know

what would be done next.



It was the general opinion that the two armoured vessels were merely

tenders to the submerged machines which had done the mischief. Having

fired no guns, nor taken any active part in the combat, there was every

reason to believe that they were intended merely as bomb-proof

store-ships for their formidable consorts. As these submerged vessels

could not attack a town, nor reduce fortifications, but could exercise

their power only against vessels afloat, it was plain enough to see

that the object of the American Syndicate was to blockade the port.

That they would be able to maintain the blockade when the full power of

the British navy should be brought to bear upon them was generally

doubted, though it was conceded in the most wrathful circles that,

until the situation should be altered, it would be unwise to risk

valuable war vessels in encounters with the diabolical sea-monsters now

lying off the port.



In the New York office of the Syndicate there was great satisfaction.

The news received was incorrect and imperfect, but it was evident that,

so far, everything had gone well.



About nine o'clock the next morning, Repeller No. 1, with her consort

half a mile astern, and preceded by the two crabs, one on either bow,

approached to within two miles of the harbour mouth. The crabs, a

quarter of a mile ahead of the repeller, moved slowly; for between them

they bore an immense net, three or four hundred feet long, and thirty

feet deep, composed of jointed steel rods. Along the upper edge of

this net was a series of air-floats, which were so graduated that they

were sunk by the weight of the net a few feet below the surface of the

water, from which position they held the net suspended vertically.



This net, which was intended to protect the repeller against the

approach of submarine torpedoes, which might be directed from the

shore, was anchored at each end, two very small buoys indicating its

position. The crabs then falling astern, Repeller No. 1 lay to, with

the sunken net between her and the shore, and prepared to project the

first instantaneous motor-bomb ever used in warfare.



The great gun in the bow of the vessel was loaded with one of the

largest and most powerful motor-bombs, and the spot to be aimed at was

selected. This was a point in the water just inside of the mouth of

the harbour, and nearly a mile from the land on either side. The

distance of this point from the vessel being calculated, the cannon was

adjusted at the angle called for by the scale of distances and levels,

and the instrument indicating rise, fall, and direction was then put in

connection with it.



Now the Director-in-chief stepped forward to the button, by pressing

which the power of the motor was developed. The chief of the

scientific corps then showed him the exact point upon the scale which

would be indicated when the gun was in its proper position, and the

piece was then moved upon its bearings so as to approximate as nearly

as possible this direction.



The bow of the vessel now rose upon the swell of the sea, and the

instant that the index upon the scale reached the desired point, the

Director-in-chief touched the button.



There was no report, no smoke, no visible sign that the motor had left

the cannon; but at that instant there appeared, to those who were on

the lookout, from a fort about a mile away, a vast aperture in the

waters of the bay, which was variously described as from one hundred

yards to five hundred yards in diameter. At that same instant, in the

neighbouring headlands and islands far up the shores of the bay, and in

every street and building of the city, there was felt a sharp shock, as

if the underlying rocks had been struck by a gigantic trip-hammer.



At the same instant the sky above the spot where the motor had

descended was darkened by a wide-spreading cloud. This was formed of

that portion of the water of the bay which had been instantaneously

raised to the height of about a thousand feet. The sudden appearance

of this cloud was even more terrible than the yawning chasm in the

waters of the bay or the startling shock; but it did not remain long in

view. It had no sooner reached its highest elevation than it began to

descend. There was a strong sea-breeze blowing, and in its descent

this vast mass of water was impelled toward the land.



It came down, not as rain, but as the waters of a vast cataract, as

though a mountain lake, by an earthquake shock, had been precipitated

in a body upon a valley. Only one edge of it reached the land, and

here the seething flood tore away earth, trees, and rocks, leaving

behind it great chasms and gullies as it descended to the sea.



The bay itself, into which the vast body of the water fell, became a

scene of surging madness. The towering walls of water which had stood

up all around the suddenly created aperture hurled themselves back into

the abyss, and down into the great chasm at the bottom of the bay,

which had been made when the motor sent its shock along the great rock

beds. Down upon, and into, this roaring, boiling tumult fell the

tremendous cataract from above, and the harbour became one wild expanse

of leaping maddened waves, hissing their whirling spray high into the

air.



During these few terrific moments other things happened which passed

unnoticed in the general consternation. All along the shores of the

bay and in front of the city the waters seemed to be sucked away,

slowly returning as the sea forced them to their level, and at many

points up and down the harbour there were submarine detonations and

upheavals of the water.



These were caused by the explosion, by concussion, of every torpedo and

submarine battery in the harbour; and it was with this object in view

that the instantaneous motor-bomb had been shot into the mouth of the

bay.



The effects of the discharge of the motor-bomb astonished and even

startled those on board the repellers and the crabs. At the instant of

touching the button a hydraulic shock was felt on Repeller No. 1.

This was supposed to be occasioned the discharge of the motor, but it

was also felt on the other vessels. It was the same shock that had

been felt on shore, but less in degree. A few moments after there was

a great heaving swell of the sea, which tossed and rolled the four

vessels, and lifted the steel protecting net so high that for an

instant parts of it showed themselves above the surface like glistening

sea-ghosts.



Experiments with motor-bombs had been made in unsettled mountainous

districts, but this was the first one which had ever exerted its power

under water.



On shore, in the forts, and in the city no one for an instant supposed

that the terrific phenomenon which had just occurred was in any way due

to the vessels of the Syndicate. The repellers were in plain view, and

it was evident that neither of them had fired a gun. Besides, the

firing of cannon did not produce such effects. It was the general

opinion that there had been an earthquake shock, accompanied by a

cloud-burst and extraordinary convulsions of the sea. Such a

combination of elementary disturbances had never been known in these

parts; and a great many persons were much more frightened than if they

had understood what had really happened.



In about half an hour after the discharge of the motor-bomb, when the

sea had resumed its usual quiet, a boat carrying a white flag left

Repeller No. 1, rowed directly over the submerged net, and made for the

harbour. When the approach of this flag-of-truce was perceived from

the fort nearest the mouth of the harbour, it occasioned much surmise.

Had the earthquake brought these Syndicate knaves to their senses? Or

were they about to make further absurd and outrageous demands? Some

irate officers were of the opinion that enemies like these should be

considered no better than pirates, and that their flag-of-truce should

be fired upon. But the commandant of the fort paid no attention to

such counsels, and sent a detachment with a white flag down to the

beach to meet the approaching boat and learn its errand.



The men in the boat had nothing to do but to deliver a letter from the

Director-in-chief to the commandant of the fort, and then row back

again. No answer was required.



When the commandant read the brief note, he made no remark. In fact,

he could think of no appropriate remark to make. The missive simply

informed him that at ten o'clock and eighteen minutes A. M., of that

day, the first bomb from the marine forces of the Syndicate had been

discharged into the waters of the harbour. At, or about, two o'clock

P.M., the second bomb would be discharged at Fort Pilcher. That was

all.



What this extraordinary message meant could not be imagined by any

officer of the garrison. If the people on board the ships were taking

advantage of the earthquake, and supposed that they could induce

British soldiers to believe that it had been caused by one of their

bombs, then were they idiots indeed. They would fire their second shot

at Fort Pilcher! This was impossible, for they had not yet fired their

first shot. These Syndicate people were evidently very tricky, and the

defenders of the port must therefore be very cautious.



Fort Pilcher was a very large and unfinished fortification, on a bluff

on the opposite side of the harbour. Work had been discontinued on it

as soon as the Syndicate's vessels had appeared off the port, for it

was not desired to expose the builders and workmen to a possible

bombardment. The place was now, therefore, almost deserted; but after

the receipt of the Syndicate's message, the commandant feared that the

enemy might throw an ordinary shell into the unfinished works, and he

sent a boat across the bay to order away any workmen or others who

might be lingering about the place.



A little after two o'clock P.M., an instantaneous motor-bomb was

discharged from Repeller No. 1 into Fort Pilcher. It was set to act

five seconds after impact with the object aimed at. It struck in a

central portion of the unfinished fort, and having described a high

curve in the air, descended not only with its own motive power, but

with the force of gravitation, and penetrated deep into the earth.



Five seconds later a vast brown cloud appeared on the Fort Pilcher

promontory. This cloud was nearly spherical in form, with an apparent

diameter of about a thousand yards. At the same instant a shock

similar to that accompanying the first motor-bomb was felt in the city

and surrounding country; but this was not so severe as the other, for

the second bomb did not exert its force upon the underlying rocks of

the region as the first one had done.



The great brown cloud quickly began to lose its spherical form, part of

it descending heavily to the earth, and part floating away in vast

dust-clouds borne inland by the breeze, settling downward as they

moved, and depositing on land, water, ships, houses, domes, and trees

an almost impalpable powder.



When the cloud had cleared away there were no fortifications, and the

bluff on which they had stood had disappeared. Part of this bluff had

floated away on the wind, and part of it lay piled in great heaps of

sand on the spot where its rocks were to have upheld a fort.



The effect of the motor-bomb was fully observed with glasses from the

various fortifications of the port, and from many points of the city

and harbour; and those familiar with the effects of explosives were not

long in making up their minds what had happened. They felt sure that a

mine had been sprung beneath Fort Pilcher; and they were now equally

confident that in the morning a torpedo of novel and terrible power had

been exploded in the harbour. They now disbelieved in the earthquake,

and treated with contempt the pretence that shots had been fired from

the Syndicate's vessel. This was merely a trick of the enemy. It was

not even likely that the mine or the torpedo had been operated from the

ship. These were, in all probability, under the control of

confederates on shore, and had been exploded at times agreed upon

beforehand. All this was perfectly plain to the military authorities.



But the people of the city derived no comfort from the announcement of

these conclusions. For all that anybody knew the whole city might be

undermined, and at any moment might ascend in a cloud of minute

particles. They felt that they were in a region of hidden traitors and

bombs, and in consequence of this belief thousands of citizens left

their homes.



That afternoon a truce-boat again went out from Repeller No. 1, and

rowed to the fort, where a letter to the commandant was delivered.

This, like the other, demanded no answer, and the boat returned. Later

in the afternoon the two repellers, accompanied by the crabs, and

leaving the steel net still anchored in its place, retired a few miles

seaward, where they prepared to lay to for the night.



The letter brought by the truce-boat was read by the commandant,

surrounded by his officers. It stated that in twenty-four hours from

time of writing it, which would be at or about four o'clock on the next

afternoon, a bomb would be thrown into the garrisoned fort, under the

command of the officer addressed. As this would result in the entire

destruction of the fortification, the commandant was earnestly

counselled to evacuate the fort before the hour specified.



Ordinarily the commandant of the fort was of a calm and unexcitable

temperament. During the astounding events of that day and the day

before he had kept his head cool; his judgment, if not correct, was the

result of sober and earnest consideration. But now he lost his temper.

The unparalleled effrontery and impertinence of this demand of the

American Syndicate was too much for his self-possession. He stormed in

anger.



Here was the culmination of the knavish trickery of these

conscienceless pirates who had attacked the port. A torpedo had been

exploded in the harbour, an unfinished fort had been mined and blown

up, and all this had been done to frighten him--a British soldier--in

command of a strong fort well garrisoned and fully supplied with all

the munitions of war. In the fear that his fort would be destroyed by

a mystical bomb, he was expected to march to a place of safety with all

his forces. If this should be done it would not be long before these

crafty fellows would occupy the fort, and with its great guns turned

inland, would hold the city at their mercy. There could be no greater

insult to a soldier than to suppose that he could be gulled by a trick

like this.



No thought of actual danger entered the mind of the commandant. It had

been easy enough to sink a great torpedo in the harbour, and the

unguarded bluffs of Fort Pilcher offered every opportunity to the

scoundrels who may have worked at their mines through the nights of

several months. But a mine under the fort which he commanded was an

impossibility; its guarded outposts prevented any such method of

attack. At a bomb, or a dozen, or a hundred of the Syndicate's bombs

he snapped his fingers. He could throw bombs as well.



Nothing would please him better than that those ark-like ships in the

offing should come near enough for an artillery fight. A few tons of

solid shot and shell dropped on top of them might be a very conclusive

answer to their impudent demands.



The letter from the Syndicate, together with his own convictions on the

subject, were communicated by the commandant to the military

authorities of the port, and to the War Office of the Dominion. The

news of what had happened that day had already been cabled across the

Atlantic back to the United States, and all over the world; and the

profound impression created by it was intensified when it became known

what the Syndicate proposed to do the next day. Orders and advices

from the British Admiralty and War Office sped across the ocean, and

that night few of the leaders in government circles in England or

Canada closed their eyes.



The opinions of the commandant of the fort were received with but

little favour by the military and naval authorities. Great

preparations were already ordered to repel and crush this most

audacious attack upon the port, but in the mean time it was highly

desirable that the utmost caution and prudence should be observed.

Three men-of-war had already been disabled by the novel and destructive

machines of the enemy, and it had been ordered that for the present no

more vessels of the British navy be allowed to approach the crabs of

the Syndicate.



Whether it was a mine or a bomb which had been used in the destruction

of the unfinished works of Fort Pilcher, it would be impossible to

determine until an official survey had been made of the ruins; but, in

any event, it would be wise and humane not to expose the garrison of

the fort on the south side of the harbour to the danger which had

overtaken the works on the opposite shore. If, contrary to the opinion

of the commandant, the garrisoned fort were really mined, the following

day would probably prove the fact. Until this point should be

determined it would be highly judicious to temporarily evacuate the

fort. This could not be followed by occupation of the works by the

enemy, for all approaches, either by troops in boats or by bodies of

confederates by land, could be fully covered by the inland redoubts and

fortifications.



When the orders for evacuation reached the commandant of the fort, he

protested hotly, and urged that his protest be considered. It was not

until the command had been reiterated both from London and Ottawa, that

he accepted the situation, and with bowed head prepared to leave his

post. All night preparations for evacuation went on, and during the

next morning the garrison left the fort, and established itself far

enough away to preclude danger from the explosion of a mine, but near

enough to be available in case of necessity.



During this morning there arrived in the offing another Syndicate

vessel. This had started from a northern part of the United States,

before the repellers and the crabs, and it had been engaged in laying a

private submarine cable, which should put the office of the Syndicate

in New York in direct communication with its naval forces engaged with

the enemy. Telegraphic connection between the cable boat and Repeller

No. 1 having been established, the Syndicate soon received from its

Director-in-chief full and comprehensive accounts of what had been done

and what it was proposed to do. Great was the satisfaction among the

members of the Syndicate when these direct and official reports came

in. Up to this time they had been obliged to depend upon very

unsatisfactory intelligence communicated from Europe, which had been

supplemented by wild statements and rumours smuggled across the

Canadian border.



To counteract the effect of these, a full report was immediately made

by the Syndicate to the Government of the United States, and a bulletin

distinctly describing what had happened was issued to the people of the

country. These reports, which received a world-wide circulation in the

newspapers, created a popular elation in the United States, and gave

rise to serious apprehensions and concern in many other countries. But

under both elation and concern there was a certain doubtfulness. So

far the Syndicate had been successful; but its style of warfare was

decidedly experimental, and its forces, in numerical strength at least,

were weak. What would happen when the great naval power of Great

Britain should be brought to bear upon the Syndicate, was a question

whose probable answer was likely to cause apprehension and concern in

the United States, and elation in many other countries.



The commencement of active hostilities had been precipitated by this

Syndicate. In England preparations were making by day an by night to

send upon the coast-lines of the United States a fleet which, in

numbers and power, would be greater than that of any naval expedition

in the history of the world. It is no wonder that many people of sober

judgment in America looked upon the affair of the crabs and the

repellers as but an incident in the beginning of a great and disastrous

war.



On the morning of the destruction of Fort Pilcher, the Syndicate's

vessels moved toward the port, and the steel net was taken up by the

two crabs, and moved nearer the mouth of the harbour, at a point from

which the fort, now in process of evacuation, was in full view. When

this had been done, Repeller No. 2 took up her position at a moderate

distance behind the net, and the other vessels stationed themselves

near by.



The protection of the net was considered necessary, for although there

could be no reasonable doubt that all the torpedoes in the harbour and

river had been exploded, others might be sent out against the

Syndicate's vessels; and a torpedo under a crab or a repeller was the

enemy most feared by the Syndicate.



About three o'clock the signals between the repellers became very

frequent, and soon afterwards a truce-boat went out from Repeller No.

1. This was rowed with great rapidity, but it was obliged to go much

farther up the harbour than on previous occasions, in order to deliver

its message to an officer of the garrison.



This was to the effect that the evacuation of the fort had been

observed from the Syndicate's vessels, and although it had been

apparently complete, one of the scientific corps, with a powerful

glass, had discovered a man in one of the outer redoubts, whose

presence there was probably unknown to the officers of the garrison.

It was, therefore, earnestly urged that this man be instantly removed;

and in order that this might be done, the discharge of the motor-bomb

would be postponed half an hour.



The officer received this message, and was disposed to look upon it as

a new trick; but as no time was to be lost, he sent a corporal's guard

to the fort, and there discovered an Irish sergeant by the name of

Kilsey, who had sworn an oath that if every other man in the fort ran

away like a lot of addle-pated sheep, he would not run with them; he

would stand to his post to the last, and when the couple of ships

outside had got through bombarding the stout walls of the fort, the

world would see that there was at least one British soldier who was not

afraid of a bomb, be it little or big. Therefore he had managed to

elude observation, and to remain behind.



The sergeant was so hot-headed in his determination to stand by the

fort, that it required violence to remove him; and it was not until

twenty minutes past four that the Syndicate observers perceived that he

had been taken to the hill behind which the garrison was encamped.



As it had been decided that Repeller No. 2 should discharge the next

instantaneous motor-bomb, there was an anxious desire on the part of

the operators on that vessel that in this, their first experience, they

might do their duty as well as their comrades on board the other

repeller had done theirs. The most accurate observations, t



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