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      The Conquest of America, by Cleveland Moffett
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<pre>

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Conquest of America, by Cleveland Moffett

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org


Title: The Conquest of America
       A Romance of Disaster and Victory

Author: Cleveland Moffett


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This file was first posted on August 1, 2003
Last Updated: November 15, 2016

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*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CONQUEST OF AMERICA ***




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</pre>

    <div style="height: 8em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h1>
      THE CONQUEST OF AMERICA
    </h1>
    <h3>
      A Romance of Disaster and Victory: U.S.A., 1921 A. D.
    </h3>
    <h2>
      By Cleveland Moffett
    </h2>
    <h4>
      Based On Extracts From The Diary Of James E. Langston,<br /> War
      Correspondent Of The &ldquo;London Times&rdquo;
     </h4>
    <h3>
      1916
    </h3>
    <h5>
      Author Of &ldquo;Through The Wall,&rdquo; &ldquo;The Battle,&rdquo; <br /> &ldquo;Careers Of Danger And
      Daring,&rdquo; Etc., Etc.
    </h5>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      <b>CONTENTS</b>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> TO MY FELLOW AMERICANS </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. &mdash; I WITNESS THE BLOWING UP OF
      THE PANAMA CANAL </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. &mdash; AMERICAN AEROPLANES AND
      SUBMARINES BATTLE DESPERATELY AGAINST THE GERMAN FLEET </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. &mdash; GERMAN INVADERS DRIVE THE
      IRON INTO THE SOUL OF UNPREPARED AMERICA </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. &mdash; INVASION OF LONG ISLAND AND
      THE BATTLE OF BROOKLYN </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. &mdash; GENERAL VON HINDENBURG TEACHES
      NEW YORK CITY A LESSON </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. &mdash; VARIOUS UNPLEASANT HAPPENINGS
      IN MANHATTAN </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. &mdash; NEW HAVEN IS PUNISHED FOR
      RIOTING AND INSUBORDINATION </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. &mdash; I HAVE A FRIENDLY TALK WITH
      THE GERMAN CROWN PRINCE AND SECURE A SENSATIONAL INTERVIEW </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. &mdash; BOSTON OFFERS DESPERATE AND
      BLOODY RESISTANCE TO THE INVADERS </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. &mdash; LORD KITCHENER VISITS AMERICA
      AND DISCUSSES OUR MILITARY PROBLEMS </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. &mdash; HEROIC ACT OF BARBARA WEBB
      SAVES AMERICAN ARMY AT THE BATTLE OF TRENTON </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. &mdash; REAR-ADMIRAL THOMAS Q. ALLYN
      WEIGHS CHANCES OF THE AMERICAN FLEET IN IMPENDING NAVAL BATTLE </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII. &mdash; THE GREAT NAVAL BATTLE OF
      THE CARIBBEAN SEA </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV. &mdash; PHILADELPHIA&rsquo;S FIRST CITY
      TROOPS DIE IN DEFENCE OF THE LIBERTY BELL </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV. &mdash; THRILLING INCIDENT AT
      WANAMAKER&rsquo;S STORE WHEN GERMANS DISHONOUR AMERICAN FLAG </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI. &mdash; AN AMERICAN GIRL BRINGS NEWS
      THAT CHANGES THE COURSE OF THE MOUNT VERNON PEACE CONFERENCE </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII. &mdash; THOMAS A. EDISON MAKES A
      SERIOUS MISTAKE IN ACCEPTING A DINNER INVITATION </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII. &mdash; I WITNESS THE BATTLE OF
      THE SUSQUEHANNA FROM VINCENT ASTOR&rsquo;S AEROPLANE </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX. &mdash; GENERAL WOOD SCORES ANOTHER
      BRILLIANT SUCCESS AGAINST THE CROWN PRINCE </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX. &mdash; THIRD BATTLE OF BULL RUN WITH
      AEROPLANES CARRYING LIQUID CHLORINE </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI. &mdash; THE AWAKENING OF AMERICA
      </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII. &mdash; ON CHRISTMAS EVE BOSTON
      THEILLS THE NATION WITH AN ACT OF MAGNIFICENT HEROISM </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII. &mdash; CONFESSIONS OF AN AMERICAN
      SPY AND BRAVERY OF BUFFALO SCHOOLBOYS </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV. &mdash; NOVEL ATTACK OF AMERICAN
      AIRSHIP UPON GERMAN SUPER-DREADNOUGHT </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV. &mdash; DESPERATE EFFORT TO RESCUE
      THOMAS A. EDISON FROM THE GERMANS </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI. &mdash; RIOTS IN CHICAGO AND GERMAN
      PLOT TO RESCUE THE CROWN PRINCE </a>
    </p>
    <p class="toc">
      <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII. &mdash; DECISIVE BATTLE BETWEEN
      GERMAN FLEET AND AMERICAN SEAPLANES CARRYING TORPEDOES </a>
    </p>
    <p>
      {Illustration: ABOUT NOON ON THE DAY OF CAPITULATION, MAY 25, 1921, A
      DETACHMENT OF GERMAN SOLDIERS MARCHED QUIETLY UP BROADWAY, TURNED INTO
      WALL STREET, AND STOPPED OUTSIDE THE BANKING HOUSE OF J. P. MORGAN &amp;
      COMPANY.}
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>Thus saith the Lord, Behold, a people cometh from the north country;
      and a great nation shall be stirred up from the uttermost parts of the
      earth. They lay hold on bow and spear; they are cruel, and have no mercy;
      their voice roareth like the sea, and they ride upon horses; every one set
      in array, as a man to the battle, against thee, O daughter of Zion</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      Jeremiah 6: 22, 23.
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
  <i>They seemed as men that lifted up
  Axes upon a thicket of trees.
  And now all the carved work thereof together
  They break down with hatchet and hammers.
  They have set thy sanctuary on fire;
  They have profaned the dwelling place of thy name even to the ground.
  They said in their heart, Let us make havoc of them altogether:
  They have burned up all the synagogues of God in the land</i>.

  Psalms 74: 5-8.
</pre>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_ILL" id="link2H_ILL"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      ILLUSTRATIONS (Not available in this edition)
    </h2>
    <p>
      <br />ABOUT NOON ON THE DAY OF CAPITULATION, MAY 25, 1921, A DETACHMENT OF
      GERMAN SOLDIERS MARCHED UNOBSERVED UP BROADWAY, <br />TURNED INTO WALL
      STREET, AND STOPPED OUTSIDE THE BANKING HOUSE OP J. P. MORGAN &amp;
      COMPANY <br /> <br />AS THE GERMAN LANDING OPERATIONS PROCEEDED, THE NEWS OF
      THE INVASION SPREAD OVER THE WHOLE REGION WITH THE SPEED OF <br />ELECTRICITY.
      THE ENEMY WAS COMING! THE ENEMY WAS HERE! WHAT WAS TO BE DONE? <br /> <br />THEN,
      FACING INEXORABLE NECESSITY, GENERAL WOOD ORDERED HIS ENGINEERS TO BLOW UP
      THE BRIDGES AND FLOOD THE SUBWAYS THAT <br />LED TO MANHATTAN. IT WAS AS IF
      THE VAST STEEL STRUCTURE OF BROOKLYN BRIDGE HAD BEEN A THING OF LACE. IN
      SHREDS IT FELL, <br />A TORN, TRAGICALLY WRECKED PIECE OF MAGNIFICENCE
      <br /> <br />THE PEOPLE KNEW THE ANSWER OF VON HINDENBURG. THEY HAD READ IT,
      AS HAD ALL THE WORLD FOR MILES AROUND, IN THE CATACLYSM <br />OF THE
      PLUNGING TOWERS. NEW YORK MUST SURRENDER OR PERISH! <br /> <br />GERMAN GUNS
      DESTROY THE HOTEL TAFT <br /> <br />"YOU KNOW, MARK TWAIN WAS A GREAT FRIEND
      OF MY FATHER&rsquo;S,&rdquo; SAID THE CROWN PRINCE. &ldquo;I REMEMBER HOW MY FATHER LAUGHED,
      ONE <br />EVENING AT THE PALACE IN BERLIN, WHEN MARK TWAIN TOLD US THE
      STORY OF &lsquo;THE JUMPING FROG.&rsquo;&rdquo; <br /> <br />AND ON THE MORNING OF JULY 4, TWO
      OF VON KLUCK&rsquo;S STAFF OFFICERS, ACCOMPANIED BY A MILITARY ESCORT, MARCHED
      DOWN STATE <br />STREET TO ARRANGE FOR THE PAYMENT OF AN INDEMNITY PROM THE
      CITY OF BOSTON OF THREE HUNDRED MILLION DOLLARS <br /> <br />"MY FRIENDS,
      THEY SAY PATRIOTISM IS DEAD IN THIS LAND. THEY SAY WE ARE EATEN UP WITH
      LOVE OF MONEY, TAINTED WITH A <br />YELLOW STREAK THAT MAKES US AFRAID TO
      FIGHT. IT&rsquo;S A LIE! I AM SIXTY YEARS OLD, BUT I&rsquo;LL FIGHT IN THE TRENCHES
      WITH MY <br />FOUR SONS BESIDE ME, AND YOU MEN WILL DO THE SAME. AM I
      RIGHT?&rdquo; <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />
    </p>
    <h1>
      THE CONQUEST OF AMERICA
    </h1>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      TO MY FELLOW AMERICANS
    </h2>
    <p>
      The purpose of this story is to give an idea of what might happen to
      America, being defenceless as at present, if she should be attacked, say
      at the close of the great European war, by a mighty and victorious power
      like Germany. It is a plea for military preparedness in the United States.
    </p>
    <p>
      As justifying this plea let us consider briefly and in a fair-minded
      spirit the arguments of our pacifist friends who, being sincerely opposed
      to military preparedness, would bring us to their way of thinking.
    </p>
    <p>
      On June 10, 1915, in a statement to the American people, following his
      resignation as Secretary of State, William Jennings Bryan said:
    </p>
    <p>
      Some nation must lead the world out of the black night of war into the
      light of that day when &ldquo;swords shall be beaten into plow-shares.&rdquo; Why not
      make that honour ours? Some day&mdash;why not now?&mdash;the nations will
      learn that enduring peace cannot be built upon fear&mdash;that good-will
      does not grow upon the stalk of violence. Some day the nations will place
      their trust in love, the weapon for which there is no shield; in love,
      that suffereth long and is kind; in love, that is not easily provoked,
      that beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth
      all things; in love, which, though despised as weakness by the worshippers
      of Mars, abideth when all else fails.
    </p>
    <p>
      These are noble words. They thrill and inspire us as they have thrilled
      and inspired millions before us, yet how little the world has seen of the
      actual carrying out of their beautiful message! The average individual in
      America still clings to whatever he has of material possessions with all
      the strength that law and custom give him. He keeps what he has and takes
      what he can honourably get, unconcerned by the fact that millions of his
      fellow men are in distress or by the knowledge that many of the rich whom
      he envies or honours may have gained their fortunes, privilege or power by
      unfair or dishonest means.
    </p>
    <p>
      In every land there are similar extremes of poverty and riches, but these
      could not exist in a world governed by the law of love or ready to be so
      governed, since love would destroy the ugly train of hatreds, arrogances,
      miseries, injustices and crimes that spread before us everywhere in the
      existing social order and that only fail to shock us because we are
      accustomed to a regime in which self-interest rather than love or justice
      is paramount.
    </p>
    <p>
      My point is that if individuals are thus universally, or almost
      universally, selfish, nations must also be selfish, since nations are only
      aggregations of individuals. If individuals all over the world to-day
      place the laws of possession and privilege and power above the law of
      love, then nations will inevitably do the same. If there is constant
      jealousy and rivalry and disagreement among individuals there will surely
      be the same among nations, and it is idle for Mr. Bryan to talk about
      putting our trust in love collectively when we do nothing of the sort
      individually. Would Mr. Bryan put his trust in love if he felt himself the
      victim of injustice or dishonesty?
    </p>
    <p>
      Once in a century some Tolstoy tries to practise literally the law of love
      and non-resistance with results that are distressing to his family and
      friends, and that are of doubtful value to the community. We may be sure
      the nations of the world will never practise this beautiful law of love
      until average citizens of the world practise it, and that time has not
      come.
    </p>
    <p>
      Of course, Mr. Bryan&rsquo;s peace plan recognises the inevitability of quarrels
      or disagreements among nations, but proposes to have these settled by
      arbitration or by the decisions of an international tribunal, which
      tribunal may be given adequate police power in the form of an
      international army and navy.
    </p>
    <p>
      It goes without saying that such a plan of world federation and world
      arbitration involves universal disarmament, all armies and all navies must
      be reduced to a merely nominal strength, to a force sufficient for police
      protection, but does any one believe that this plan can really be carried
      out? Is there the slightest chance that Russia or Germany will disarm? Is
      there the slightest chance that England will send her fleet to the scrap
      heap and leave her empire defenceless in order to join this world
      federation? Is there the slightest chance that Japan, with her dreams of
      Asiatic sovereignty, will disarm?
    </p>
    <p>
      And if the thing were conceivable, what a grim federation this would be of
      jealousies, grievances, treacheries, hatreds, conflicting patriotisms and
      ambitions&mdash;Russia wanting Constantinople, France Alsace-Lorraine,
      Germany Calais, Spain Gibraltar, Denmark her ravished provinces, Poland
      her national integrity and so on. Who would keep order among the
      international delegates? Who would decide when the international judges
      disagreed? Who would force the international policemen to act against
      their convictions? Could any world tribunal induce the United States to
      limit her forces for the prevention of a yellow immigration from Asia?
    </p>
    <p>
      General Homer Lea in &ldquo;The Valour of Ignorance&rdquo; says:
    </p>
    <p>
      Only when arbitration is able to unravel the tangled skein of crime and
      hypocrisy among individuals can it be extended to communities and nations,
      as nations are only man in the aggregate, they are the aggregate of his
      crimes and deception and depravity, and so long as these constitute the
      basis of individual impulse, so long will they control the acts of
      nations.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dr. Charles W. Eliot, president emeritus of Harvard University and trustee
      of the Carnegie Peace Foundation, makes this admission in <i>The Army and
      Navy Journal:</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      I regret to say that international or national disarmament is not taken
      seriously by the leaders and thinking men of the more important peoples,
      and I fear that for one reason or another neither the classes nor the
      masses have much admiration for the idea or would be willing to do their
      share to bring it about.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here is the crux of the question, the earth has so much surface and to-day
      this is divided up in a certain way by international frontiers. Yesterday
      it was divided up in a different way. To-morrow it will again be divided
      up in a new way, unless some world federation steps in and says: &ldquo;Stop!
      There are to be no more wars. The present frontiers of the existing
      fifty-three nations are to be considered as righteously and permanently
      established. After this no act of violence shall change them.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Think what that would mean! It would mean that nations like Russia, Great
      Britain and the United States, which happened to possess vast dominions
      when this world federation peace plan was adopted would continue to
      possess vast dominions, while other nations like Italy, Greece, Turkey,
      Holland, Sweden, France, Spain (all great empires once), Germany and
      Japan, whose present share of the earth&rsquo;s surface might be only one-tenth
      or one-fiftieth or one-five-hundredth as great as Russia&rsquo;s share or Great
      Britain&rsquo;s share, would be expected to remain content with that small
      portion.
    </p>
    <p>
      Impossible! These less fortunate, but not less aspiring nations would
      never agree to such a policy of national stagnation, to such a stifling of
      their legitimate longings for a &ldquo;greater place in the sun.&rdquo; They would
      point to the pages of history and show how small nations have become great
      and how empires have fallen. What was the mighty United States of America
      but yesterday? A handful of feeble colonies far weaker than the Balkan
      States to-day.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why should this particular moment be chosen,&rdquo; they would protest, &ldquo;to
      render immovable international frontiers that have always been shifting?
      Why should the maps of the world be now finally crystallised so as to give
      England millions of square miles in every quarter of the globe, Canada,
      Australia, India, Egypt, while we possess so little? Did God make England
      so much better than he made us? Why should the Russian Empire sweep across
      two continents while our territory is crowded into a corner of one? Is
      Russia so supremely deserving? And why should the United States possess as
      much of the earth&rsquo;s surface as Germany, France, Italy, Belgium, Holland,
      Austria-Hungary, Denmark, Greece, Serbia, Bulgaria, Roumania, Spain,
      Norway, Sweden and Japan all together and, besides that, claim authority
      to say, through the Monroe Doctrine, what shall happen or shall not happen
      in South America, Mexico, the West Indies and the Pacific? How did the
      United States get this authority and this vast territory? How did Russia
      get her vast territory? How did England get her vast territory?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The late Professor J. A. Cramb, an Englishman himself, gives us one answer
      in his powerful and illuminating book, &ldquo;Germany and England,&rdquo; and shows us
      how England, in the view of many, got <i>her</i> possessions:
    </p>
    <p>
      England! The successful burglar, who, an immense fortune amassed, has
      retired from business, and having broken every law, human and divine,
      violated every instinct of honour and fidelity on every sea and on every
      continent, desires now the protection of the police!... So long as
      England, the great robber-state, retains her booty, the spoils of a world,
      what right has she to expect peace from the nations?
    </p>
    <p>
      In reply to Mr. Bryan&rsquo;s peace exhortations, some of the smaller but more
      efficient world powers, certainly Germany and Japan, would recall similar
      cynical teachings of history and would smilingly answer: &ldquo;We approve of
      your beautiful international peace plan, of your admirable world police
      plan, but before putting it into execution, we prefer to wait a few
      hundred years and see if we also, in the ups and downs of nations, cannot
      win for ourselves, by conquest or cunning or other means not provided for
      in the law of love, a great empire covering a vast portion of the earth&rsquo;s
      surface.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The force and justice of this argument will be appreciated, to use a
      homely comparison, by those who have studied the psychology of poker games
      and observed the unvarying willingness of heavy winners to end the
      struggle after a certain time, while the losers insist upon playing
      longer.
    </p>
    <p>
      It will be the same in this international struggle for world supremacy,
      the only nations willing to stop fighting will be the ones that are far
      ahead of the game, like Great Britain, Russia and the United States.
    </p>
    <p>
      We may be sure that wars will continue on the earth. War may be a
      biological necessity in the development of the human race&mdash;God&rsquo;s
      housecleaning, as Ella Wheeler Wilcox calls it. War may be a great soul
      stimulant meant to purge mankind of evils greater than itself, evils of
      baseness and world degeneration. We know there are blighted forests that
      must be swept clean by fire. Let us not scoff at such a theory until we
      understand the immeasurable mysteries of life and death. We know that,
      through the ages, two terrific and devastating racial impulses have made
      themselves felt among men and have never been restrained, sex attraction
      and war. Perhaps they were not meant to be restrained.
    </p>
    <p>
      Listen to John Ruskin, apostle of art and spirituality:
    </p>
    <p>
      All the pure and noble arts of peace are founded on war. No great art ever
      rose on earth but among a nation of soldiers. There is no great art
      possible to a nation but that which is based on battle. When I tell you
      that war is the foundation of all the arts, I mean also that it is the
      foundation of all the high virtues and faculties of men. It was very
      strange for me to discover this, and very dreadful, but I saw it to be
      quite an undeniable fact. The common notion that peace and the virtues of
      civil life flourished together I found to be utterly untenable. We talk of
      peace and learning, of peace and plenty, of peace and civilisation; but I
      found that these are not the words that the Muse of History coupled
      together; that on her lips the words were peace and sensuality, peace and
      selfishness, peace and death. I found in brief that all great nations
      learned their truth of word and strength of thought in war; that they were
      nourished in war and wasted in peace; taught by war and deceived by peace;
      trained by war and betrayed by peace; in a word, that they were born in
      war and expired in peace.
    </p>
    <p>
      We know Bernhardi&rsquo;s remorseless views taken from Treitschke and adopted by
      the whole German nation:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;War is a fiery crucible, a terrible training school through which the
      world has grown better.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      In his impressive work, &ldquo;The Game of Empires,&rdquo; Edward S. Van Zile quotes
      Major General von Disfurth, a distinguished retired officer of the German
      army, who chants so fierce a glorification of war for the German idea, war
      for German Kultur, war at all costs and with any consequences that one
      reads with a shudder of amazement:
    </p>
    <p>
      Germany stands as the supreme arbiter of her own methods. It is of no
      consequence whatever if all the monuments ever created, all the pictures
      ever painted, and all the buildings ever erected by the great architects
      of the world be destroyed, if by their destruction we promote Germany&rsquo;s
      victory over her enemies. The commonest, ugliest stone that marks the
      burial place of a German grenadier is a more glorious and venerable
      monument than all the cathedrals of Europe put together. They call us
      barbarians. What of it? We scorn them and their abuse. For my part, I hope
      that in this war we have merited the title of barbarians. Let neutral
      peoples and our enemies cease their empty chatter, which may well be
      compared to the twitter of birds. Let them cease to talk of the cathedral
      of Rheims and of all the churches and all the castles in France which have
      shared its fate. These things do not interest us. Our troops must achieve
      victory. What else matters?
    </p>
    <p>
      Obviously there are cases where every noble sentiment would impel a nation
      to go to war. A solemn promise broken, a deliberate insult to the flag, an
      act of intolerable bullying, some wicked purpose of self-aggrandisement at
      the expense of weaker nations, anything, in short, that flaunted the
      national honour or imperilled the national integrity would be a call to
      war that must be heeded by valiant and high-souled citizens, in all lands.
      Nor can we have any surety against such wanton international acts, so long
      as the fate of nations is left in the hands of small autocracies or
      military and diplomatic cliques empowered to act without either the
      knowledge or approval of the people. Wars will never be abolished until
      the war-making power is taken from the few and jealously guarded by the
      whole people, and only exercised after public discussion of the matters at
      issue and a public understanding of inevitable consequences. At present it
      is evident that the pride, greed, madness of one irresponsible King,
      Emperor, Czar, Mikado or President may plunge the whole world into
      war-misery that will last for generations.
    </p>
    <p>
      There are other cases where war is not only inevitable, but actually
      desirable from a standpoint of world advantage. Imagine a highly civilised
      and progressive nation, a strong prosperous nation, wisely and efficiently
      governed, as may be true, some day, of the United States of America. Let
      us suppose this nation to be surrounded by a number of weak and
      unenlightened states, always quarrelling, badly and corruptly managed,
      like Mexico and some of the Central American republics. Would it not be
      better for the world if this strong, enlightened nation took possession of
      its backward neighbours, even by force of arms, and taught them how to
      live and how to make the best of their neglected resources and
      possibilities? Would not these weak nations be more prosperous and happier
      after incorporation with the strong nation? Is not Egypt better off and
      happier since the British occupation? Were not the wars that created
      united Italy and united Germany justified? Does any one regret our civil
      war? It was necessary, was it not?
    </p>
    <p>
      Similarly it is better for the world that we fought and conquered the
      American Indians and took their land to use it, in accordance with our
      higher destiny, for greater and nobler purposes than they could either
      conceive of or execute. It is better for the world that by a revolution
      (even a disingenuous one) we took Panama from incompetent Colombians and,
      by our intelligence, our courage and our vast resources, changed a
      fever-ridden strip of jungle into a waterway that now joins two oceans and
      will save untold billions for the commerce of the earth.
    </p>
    <p>
      Carrying a step farther this idea of world efficiency through war, it is
      probable that future generations will be grateful to some South American
      nation, perhaps Brazil, or Chile or the Argentine Republic, that shall one
      day be wise and strong enough to lay the foundations on the field of
      battle (Mr. Bryan may think this could be accomplished by peaceful
      negotiations, but he is mistaken) for the United States of South America.
    </p>
    <p>
      And why not ultimately the United States of Europe, the United States of
      Asia, the United States of Africa, all created by useful and progressive
      wars? Consider the increased efficiency, prosperity and happiness that
      must come through such unions of small nations now trying separately and
      ineffectively to carry on multiple activities that could be far better
      carried on collectively. Our American Union, born of war, proves this,
      does it not?
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;United we stand, divided we fall,&rdquo; applies not merely to states, counties
      and townships, but to nations, to empires, to continents. Continents will
      be the last to join hands across the seas (having first waged vast
      inter-continental wars) and then, after the rise and fall of many
      sovereignties, there will be established on the earth the last great
      government, the United States of the World!
    </p>
    <p>
      That is the logical limit of human activities. Are we not all citizens of
      the earth, descended from the same parents, born with the same needs and
      capacities? Why should there be fifty-three barriers dividing men into
      fifty-three nations? Why should there be any other patriotism than world
      patriotism? Or any other government than one world government?
    </p>
    <p>
      When this splendid ultimate consummation has been achieved, after ages of
      painful evolution (we must remember that the human race is still in its
      infancy) our remote descendants, united in language, religion and customs,
      with a great world representative government finally established and the
      law of love prevailing, may begin preparations for a grand world
      celebration of the last war. Say, in the year A.D. 2921!
    </p>
    <p>
      But not until then!
    </p>
    <p>
      If this reasoning is sound, if war must be regarded, for centuries to
      come, as an inevitable part of human existence, then let us, as loyal
      Americans, realise that, hate war as we may, there is only way in which
      the United States can be insured against the horrors of armed invasion,
      with the shame of disastrous defeat and possible dismemberment, and that
      is by developing the strength and valiance to meet all probable assailants
      on land or sea.
    </p>
    <p>
      Whether we like it or not we are a great world power, fated to become far
      greater, unless we throw away our advantages; we must either accept the
      average world standards, which call for military preparedness, or impose
      new standards upon a world which concedes no rights to nations that have
      not the might to guard and enforce those rights.
    </p>
    <p>
      Why should we Americans hesitate to pay the trifling cost of insurance
      against war? Trifling? Yes. The annual cost of providing and maintaining
      an adequate army and navy would be far less than we spend every year on
      tobacco and alcohol. Less than fifty cents a month from every citizen
      would be sufficient. That amount, wisely expended, would enormously lessen
      the probability of war and would allow the United States, if war came, to
      face its enemies with absolute serenity. The Germans are willing to pay
      the cost of preparedness. So are the French, the Italians, the Japanese,
      the Swiss, the Balkan peoples, the Turks. Do we love our country less than
      they do? Do we think our institutions, our freedom less worthy than theirs
      of being guarded for posterity?
    </p>
    <p>
      Why should we not adopt a system of military training something like the
      one that has given such excellent results in Switzerland? Why not cease to
      depend upon our absurd little standing army which, for its strength and
      organisation, is frightfully expensive and absolutely inadequate, and
      depend instead upon a citizenry trained and accustomed to arms, with a
      permanent body of competent officers, at least 50,000, whose lives would
      be spent in giving one year military training to the young men of this
      nation, all of them, say between the ages of eighteen and twenty-three, so
      that these young men could serve their country efficiently, if the need
      arose? Why not accept the fact that it is neither courageous nor
      democratic for us to depend upon hired soldiers to defend our country?
    </p>
    <p>
      Does any one doubt that a year of such military training would be of
      lasting benefit to the men of America? Would it not school them in
      much-needed habits of discipline and self-control, habits which must be
      learned sooner or later if a man is to succeed? Would not the open air
      life, the physical exercise, the regularity of hours tend to improve their
      health and make them better citizens?
    </p>
    <p>
      Suppose that once every five years all American men up to fifty were
      required to go into military camp and freshen up on their defence duties
      for twenty or thirty days. Would that do them any harm? On the contrary,
      it would do them immense good.
    </p>
    <p>
      And even if war never came, is it not evident that America would benefit
      in numberless ways by such a development of the general manhood spirit?
      Who can say how much of Germany&rsquo;s greatness in business and commerce, in
      the arts and sciences, is due to the fact that <i>all</i> her men, through
      military schooling, have learned precious lessons in self-control and
      obedience?
    </p>
    <p>
      The pacifists tell us that after the present European war, we shall have
      nothing to fear for many years from exhausted Europe, but let us not be
      too sure of that. History teaches that long and costly wars do not
      necessarily exhaust a nation or lessen its readiness to undertake new
      wars. On the contrary, the habit of fighting leads easily to more
      fighting. The Napoleonic wars lasted over twenty years. At the close of
      our civil war we had great generals and a formidable army of veteran
      soldiers and would have been willing and able immediately to engage in a
      fresh war against France had she not yielded to our demand and withdrawn
      Maximilian from Mexico. Bulgaria recently fought two wars within a year,
      the second leaving her exhausted and prostrate; yet within two years she
      was able to enter upon a third war stronger than ever.
    </p>
    <p>
      If Germany wins in the present great conflict she may quite conceivably
      turn to America for the vast money indemnity that she will be unable to
      exact from her depleted enemies in Europe; and if Germany loses or half
      loses she may decide to retrieve her desperate fortunes in this tempting
      and undefended field. With her African empire hopelessly lost to her,
      where more naturally than to facile America will she turn for her coveted
      place in the sun?
    </p>
    <p>
      And if not Germany, it may well be some other great nation that will
      attack us. Perhaps Great Britain! Especially if our growing merchant
      marine threatens her commercial supremacy of the sea, which is her life.
      Perhaps Japan! whose attack on Germany in 1914 shows plainly that she
      merely awaits favourable opportunity to dispose of any of her rivals in
      the Orient. Let us bear in mind that, in the opinion of the world&rsquo;s
      greatest authorities, we Americans are to-day totally unprepared to defend
      ourselves against a first-class foreign power. My story aims to show this,
      and high officers in our army and navy, who have assisted me in the
      preparation of this book and to whom I am grateful, assure me that I have
      set forth the main facts touching our military defencelessness without
      exaggeration. C. M.
    </p>
    <h3>
      WASHINGTON&rsquo;S BIRTHDAY, 1916.
    </h3>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER I. &mdash; I WITNESS THE BLOWING UP OF THE PANAMA CANAL
    </h2>
    <p>
      In my thirty years&rsquo; service as war correspondent of the London <i>Times</i>
      I have looked behind the scenes of various world happenings, and have
      known the thrill of personally facing some great historic crises; but
      there is nothing in my experience so dramatic, so pregnant with human
      consequences, as the catastrophe of April 27, 1921, when the Gatun Locks
      of the Panama Canal were destroyed by dynamite.
    </p>
    <p>
      At that moment I was seated on the shaded, palm-bordered piazza of the
      Grand Hotel at Colon, discussing with Rear-Admiral Thomas Q. Allyn of the
      United States Navy the increasing chances that America might find herself
      plunged into war with Japan. For weeks the clouds had been darkening, and
      it was now evident that the time had come when the United States must
      either abandon the Monroe Doctrine and the open door in China, or fight to
      maintain these doctrines.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Mr. Langston,&rdquo; the Admiral was saying, &ldquo;the situation is extremely grave.
      Japan intends to carry out her plans of expansion in Mexico and China, and
      possibly in the Philippines; there is not a doubt of it. Her fleet is
      cruising somewhere in the Pacific,&mdash;we don&rsquo;t know where,&mdash;and
      our Atlantic fleet passed through the Canal yesterday, as you know, to
      make a demonstration of force in the Pacific and to be ready for&mdash;for
      whatever may come.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      His hands closed nervously, and he studied the horizon with half-shut
      eyes.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the course of our talk Admiral Allyn had admitted that the United
      States was woefully unprepared for conflict with a great power, either on
      sea or land.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The blow will be struck suddenly,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;you may be sure of that.
      Our military preparations are so utterly inadequate that we may suffer
      irreparable harm before we can begin to use our vast resources. You know
      when Prussia struck Austria in 1866 the war was over in three months. When
      Germany struck France in 1870 the decisive battle, Sedan, was fought
      forty-seven days later. When Japan struck Russia, the end was foreseen
      within four or five months.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It wasn&rsquo;t so in the great European war,&rdquo; I remarked.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why not? Because England held the mastery of the sea. But we hold the
      mastery of nothing. Our fleet is barely third among the nations and we are
      frightfully handicapped by our enormous length of coast line and by this
      canal.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The Canal gives us a great advantage, doesn&rsquo;t it? I thought it doubled
      the efficiency of our fleet?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It does nothing of the sort. The Canal may be seized. It may be put out
      of commission for weeks or months by landslides or earthquakes. A few
      hostile ships of the <i>Queen Elizabeth</i> class lying ten miles off
      shore at either end, with ranges exactly fixed, or a good shot from an
      aeroplane, could not only destroy the Canal&rsquo;s insufficient defences, but
      could prevent our fleet from coming through, could hold it, useless, in
      the Atlantic when it might be needed to save California or useless in the
      Pacific when it might be needed to save New York. If it happened when war
      began that one half of our fleet was in the Atlantic and the other half in
      the Pacific, then the enemy could keep these two halves separated and
      destroy them one by one.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I suppose you mean that we need two fleets?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Of course we do&mdash;a child can see it&mdash;if we are to guard our two
      seaboards. We must have a fleet in the Atlantic strong enough to resist
      any probable attack from the East, and another fleet in the Pacific strong
      enough to resist any probable attack from the West.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;But listen to this, think of this,&rdquo; the veteran warrior leaned towards
      me, shaking an eager fore-finger. &ldquo;At the present moment our entire fleet,
      if massed off Long Island, would be inferior to a fleet that Germany could
      send across the Atlantic against us by many ships, many submarines and
      many aeroplanes. And hopelessly inferior in men and ammunition, including
      torpedoes.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      As I listened I felt myself falling under the spell of the Admiral&rsquo;s
      eloquence. He was so sure of what he said. These dangers unquestionably
      existed, but&mdash;were they about to descend upon America? Must we really
      face the horrors of a war of invasion?
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Your arguments are very convincing, sir, and yet&mdash;&rdquo; I hesitated.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You speak as if these things were going to happen <i>right now,</i> but
      there are no signs of war, no clouds on the horizon.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The Admiral waved this aside with an impatient gesture.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I tell you the blow will come suddenly. Were there any clouds on the
      European horizon in July, 1914? Yet a few persons knew, just as I have
      known for months, that war was inevitable.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Known?&rdquo; I repeated.
    </p>
    <p>
      Very deliberately the grizzled sea fighter lighted a fresh cigar before
      replying.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Mr. Langston, I&rsquo;ll tell you a little story that explains why I am posing
      as a prophet. You can put it in your memoirs some day&mdash;if my prophecy
      comes true. It&rsquo;s the story of an American naval officer, a young
      lieutenant, who&mdash;well, he went wrong about a year ago. He got into
      the clutches of a woman spy in the employ of a foreign government. He met
      this woman in Marseilles on our last Mediterranean cruise and fell in love
      with her&mdash;hopelessly. She&rsquo;s one of those devilish sirens that no
      full-blooded man can resist and, the extraordinary part of it is, she fell
      in love with him&mdash;genuinely in love.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Well&mdash;it was a bad business. This officer gave the woman all he had,
      told her all he knew, and finally he asked her to marry him. Yes. He
      didn&rsquo;t care what she was. He just wanted her. And she was so happy, so
      crazy about him, that she almost yielded; she was ready to turn over a new
      leaf, to settle down as his wife, but&mdash;&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;But she didn&rsquo;t do it?&rdquo; I smiled.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Admiral shook his head.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;He was a poor man&mdash;just a lieutenant&rsquo;s pay and she couldn&rsquo;t give up
      her grand life. But she loved him enough to try to save him, enough to
      leave him. She wrote him a wonderful letter, poured her soul out to him,
      gave him certain military secrets of the government she was working for&mdash;they
      would have shot her in a minute, you understand, if they had known it&mdash;and
      she told him to take this information as a proof of her love and use it to
      save the United States.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I was listening now with absorbed interest.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What government was she working for?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The Admiral paused to relight his cigar.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Wait! The next thing was that this lieutenant came to me, as a friend of
      his father and an admiral of the American fleet, and made a clean breast
      of everything. He made his confession in confidence, but asked me to use
      the knowledge as I saw fit without mentioning his name. I did use it and&rdquo;&mdash;the
      Admiral&rsquo;s frown deepened&mdash;&ldquo;the consequence was no one believed me.
      They said the warning was too vague. You know the attitude of recent
      administrations towards all questions of national defence. It&rsquo;s always
      politics before patriotism, always the fear of losing middle west pacifist
      votes. It&rsquo;s disgusting&mdash;horrible!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Was the warning really vague?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Vague. My God!&rdquo; The old sea dog bounded from his chair. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll tell you
      how vague it was. A statement was definitely made that before May 1, 1921,
      a great foreign power would make war upon the United States and would
      begin by destroying the Panama Canal. To-day is April 27, 1921. I don&rsquo;t
      say these things are going to happen within three days but, Mr. Langston,
      as purely as the sun shines on that ocean, we Americans are living in a
      fool&rsquo;s paradise. We are drunk with prosperity. We are deaf and blind to
      the truth which is known to other nations, known to our enemies, known to
      the ablest officers in our army and navy.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The truth is that, as a nation, we have learned nothing from our past
      wars because we have never had to fight a first-class power that was
      prepared. But the next war, and it is surely coming, will find us held in
      the grip of an inexorable law which provides that nations imitating the
      military policy of China must suffer the fate of China.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The Admiral now explained why he had sent for me. It was to suggest that I
      cable the London <i>Times</i>, urging my paper to use its influence,
      through British diplomatic channels, to avert another great war. I pointed
      out that the chances of such intervention were slight. Great Britain was
      still smarting under the memory of Americans&rsquo; alleged indifference to
      everything but money in 1918 when the United States stood by,
      unprotesting, and saw England stripped of her mastery of the sea after the
      loss of Gibraltar and the Suez Canal.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;There are two sides to that,&rdquo; frowned the Admiral, &ldquo;but one thing is
      certain&mdash;it&rsquo;s England or no one. We have nothing to hope for from
      Russia; she has what she wants&mdash;Constantinople. Nothing to hope for
      from France; she has her lost provinces back. And as for Germany&mdash;Germany
      is waiting, recuperating, watching her chance for a place in the South
      American sun.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Germany managed well in the Geneva Peace Congress of 1919,&rdquo; I said.
    </p>
    <p>
      The veteran of Manila threw down his cigarette impatiently.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Bismarck could have done no better. They bought off Europe, they crippled
      England and&mdash;they isolated America.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; continued the Admiral, &ldquo;I must show you some things in my
      scrap book. You will be astonished. Wait a minute. I&rsquo;ll get it.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The old fellow hurried off and presently returned with a heavy volume
      bound in red leather.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Take it up to your room to-night and look it over. You will find the most
      overwhelming mass of testimony to the effect that to-day, in spite of all
      that has been said and written and all the money spent, the United States
      is totally unprepared to defend its coasts or uphold its national honour.
      Just open the book anywhere&mdash;you&rsquo;ll see.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I obeyed and came upon this statement by Theodore Roosevelt:
    </p>
    <p>
      What befell Antwerp and Brussels will surely some day befall New York or
      San Francisco, and may happen to many an inland city also, if we do not
      shake off our supine folly, if we trust for safety to peace treaties
      unbacked by force.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Pretty strong words for an ex-President of the United States to be
      using,&rdquo; nodded the Admiral. &ldquo;And true! Try another place.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I did so and came upon this from the pen of Gerhard von
      Schulze-Gaevernitz, professor of political economy at the University of
      Freiburg and a member of the Reichstag:
    </p>
    <p>
      Flattered and deftly lulled to sleep by British influence, public opinion
      in the United States will not wake up until the &lsquo;yellow New England&rsquo; of
      the Orient, nurtured and deflected from Australia by England herself,
      knocks at the gates of the new world. Not a patient and meek China, but a
      warlike and conquest-bound Japan will be the aggressor when that day
      comes. Then America will be forced to fight under unfavourable conditions.
    </p>
    <p>
      The famous campaigner&rsquo;s eyes flashed towards the Pacific.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;When that day comes! Ah! Speaking of Japan,&rdquo; he turned over the pages in
      nervous haste. &ldquo;Here we are! You can see how much the Japanese love us!
      Listen! This is an extract from the most popular book in Japan to-day. It
      is issued by Japan&rsquo;s powerful and official National Defence Association
      with a view to inflaming the Japanese people against the United States and
      preparing them for a war of invasion against this country. Listen to this:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Let America beware! For our cry, &lsquo;On to California! On to Hawaii! On to
      the Philippines!&rsquo; is becoming only secondary to our imperial anthem!... To
      arms! We must seize our standards, unfurl them to the winds and advance
      without the least fear, as America has no army worthy the name, and with
      the Panama Canal destroyed, its few battleships will be of no use until
      too late.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I tell you, Mr. Langston,&rdquo; pursued the Admiral, &ldquo;we Americans are to-day
      the most hated nation on earth. The richest, the most arrogant, the most
      hated nation on earth! And helpless! Defenceless! Believe me, that&rsquo;s a bad
      combination. Look at this! Read this! It&rsquo;s a cablegram to the New York <i>Tribune</i>,
      published on May 21, 1915, from Miss Constance Drexel, an American
      delegate to the Woman&rsquo;s Peace Conference at The Hague:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I have just come out of Germany and perhaps the predominating impression
      I bring with me is Germany&rsquo;s hatred of America. Germany feels that war
      with America is only a matter of time. Everywhere I went I found the same
      sentiment, and the furthest distance away I found the war put was ten
      years. It was said to me: &lsquo;We must settle with England first, but then
      will come America&rsquo;s turn. If we don&rsquo;t make war on you ourselves we will
      get Japan into a war with you, and then we will supply arms and munitions
      to Japan.&rsquo;&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      At this point, I remember, I had turned to order an orange liqueur, when
      the crash came.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was terrific. Every window in the hotel was shattered, and some scores
      of labourers working near the Gatun Locks were killed instantly. Six
      hundred tons of dynamite, secreted in the hold of a German merchantman,
      had been exploded as the vessel passed through the locks, and ten thousand
      tons of Portland cement had sunk in the tangled iron wreck, to form a huge
      blockading mass of solid rock on the floor of the narrow passage.
    </p>
    <p>
      Needless to say, every man on the German ship thus sacrificed died at his
      post.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Admiral stared in dismay when the news was brought to him.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Germany!&rdquo; he muttered. &ldquo;And our fleet is in the Pacific!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Does it mean war?&rdquo; I asked.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes, of course. Unquestionably it means war. We have been misled. We were
      thinking of one enemy, and we have been struck by another. We thought we
      could send our fleet through the Canal and get it back easily; but&mdash;now
      we cannot get it back for at least two months!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER II. &mdash; AMERICAN AEROPLANES AND SUBMARINES BATTLE DESPERATELY
      AGAINST THE GERMAN FLEET
    </h2>
    <p>
      A week later&mdash;or, to be exact, on May 4, 1921&mdash;I arrived in New
      York, following instructions from my paper, and found the city in a state
      of indescribable confusion and alarm.
    </p>
    <p>
      War had been declared by Germany against the United States on the day that
      the Canal was wrecked, and German transports, loaded with troops and
      convoyed by a fleet of battleships, were known to be on the high seas,
      headed for American shores. As the Atlantic fleet had been cut off in the
      Pacific by that desperate piece of Panama strategy (the Canal would be
      impassable for months), it was evident that those ships could be of no
      service for at least eight weeks, the time necessary to make the trip
      through the Straits of Magellan; and meanwhile the Atlantic seaboard from
      Maine to Florida was practically unguarded.
    </p>
    <p>
      No wonder the newspapers shrieked despairingly and bitterly upbraided
      Congress for neglecting to provide the country with adequate naval
      defences.
    </p>
    <p>
      Theodore Roosevelt came out with a signed statement:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Four years ago I warned this country that the United States must have two
      great fleets&mdash;one for the Atlantic, one for the Pacific.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Senator Smoot, in a sensational speech, referred to his vain efforts to
      secure for the country a fleet of fifty sea-going submarines and
      twenty-five coast-defence submarines. Now, he declared, the United States
      would pay for its indifference to danger.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the House of Representatives, Gardner and Hobson both declared that our
      forts were antiquated, our coast-defence guns outranged, our artillery
      ridiculously insufficient, and our supply of ammunition not great enough
      to carry us through a single month of active warfare.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the night of my arrival in Manhattan I walked through scenes of
      delirious madness. The town seemed to reel in a sullen drunkenness.
      Throngs filled the dark streets. The Gay White Way was no longer either
      white or gay. The marvellous electrical display of upper Broadway had
      disappeared&mdash;not even a street light was to be seen. And great
      hotels, like the Plaza, the Biltmore, and the new Morgan, formerly so
      bright, were scarcely discernible against the black skies. No one knew
      where the German airships might be. Everybody shouted, but nobody made
      very much noise. The city was hoarse. I remembered just how London acted
      the night the first Zeppelin floated over the town.
    </p>
    <p>
      At five o&rsquo;clock the next morning, Mayor McAneny appointed a Committee of
      Public Safety that went into permanent session in Madison Square Garden,
      which was thronged day and night, while excited meetings, addressed by men
      and women of all political parties, were held continuously in Union
      Square, City Hall Park, Columbus Circle, at the Polo Grounds and in
      various theatres and motion-picture houses.
    </p>
    <p>
      Such a condition of excitement and terror necessarily led to disorder and
      on May 11, 1921, General Leonard Wood, in command of the Eastern Army,
      placed the city under martial law.
    </p>
    <p>
      And now on every tongue were frantic questions. When would the Germans
      land? To-day? To-morrow? Where would they strike first? What were we going
      to do? Every one realised, when it was too late, the hopeless inadequacy
      of our aeroplane scouting service. To guard our entire Atlantic seaboard
      we had fifty military aeroplanes where we should have had a thousand and
      we were wickedly lacking in pilots. Oh, the shame of those days!
    </p>
    <p>
      In this emergency Rodman Wanamaker put at the disposal of the government
      his splendid air yacht the <i>America II</i>, built on the exact lines of
      the <i>America I</i>, winner of across-the-Atlantic prizes in 1918, but of
      much larger spread and greater engine power. The America II could carry a
      useful load of five tons and in her scouting work during the next
      fortnight she accommodated a dozen passengers, four officers, a crew of
      six, and two newspaper men, Frederick Palmer, representing the Associated
      Press, and myself for the London <i>Times.</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      What a tremendous thing it was, this scouting trip! Day after day, far out
      over the ocean, searching for German battleships! Our easy jog trot speed
      along the sky was sixty miles an hour and, under full engine pressure, the
      <i>America II</i> could make a hundred and twenty, which was lucky for us
      as it saved us many a time when the slower German aircraft came after us,
      spitting bullets from their machine guns.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the morning of May 12, a perfect spring day, circling at a height of
      half a mile, about fifty miles off the eastern end of Long Island, we had
      our first view of the German fleet as it ploughed through smooth seas to
      the south of Montauk Point.
    </p>
    <p>
      We counted eight battle cruisers, twelve dreadnoughts, ten
      pre-dreadnoughts, and about sixty destroyers, in addition to transports,
      food-ships, hospital-ships, repair-ships, colliers, and smaller fighting
      and scouting vessels, all with their full complement of men and equipment,
      moving along there below us in the pleasant sunshine. Among the troopships
      I made out the <i>Kaiserin Auguste Luise</i> and the <i>Deutschland,</i>
      on both of which I had crossed the summer following the Great Peace. I
      thought of the jolly old commander of the latter vessel and of the capital
      times we had had together at the big round table in the dining-saloon. It
      seemed impossible that this was war!
    </p>
    <p>
      I subsequently learned that the original plan worked out by the German
      general staff contemplated a landing in the sheltered harbour of Montauk
      Point, but the lengthened range (21,000 yards) of mortars in the American
      forts on Fisher&rsquo;s Island and Plum Island, a dozen miles to the north, now
      brought Montauk Point under fire, so the open shore south of East Hampton
      was substituted as the point of invasion.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s no trouble about landing troops from the open sea in smooth
      weather like this,&rdquo; said Palmer, speaking through his head-set. &ldquo;We did it
      at Santiago, and the Japs did it at Port Arthur.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;And the English did it at Ostend,&rdquo; I agreed. &ldquo;Hello!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      As I swept the sea to the west with my binoculars I thought I caught the
      dim shape of a submerged submarine moving slowly through the black depths
      like a hungry shark; but it disappeared almost immediately, and I was not
      sure. As a matter of fact, it was a submarine, one of six American
      under-water craft that had been assigned to patrol the south shore of Long
      Island.
    </p>
    <p>
      The United States still had twenty-five submarines in Atlantic waters, in
      addition to thirty that were with the absent fleet; but these twenty-five
      had been divided between Boston Harbour, Narragansett Bay, Delaware Bay,
      Chesapeake Bay, and other vulnerable points, so that only six were left to
      defend the approaches to New York City. And, of these six, five were
      twenty-four hours late, owing, I heard later, to inexcusable delays at the
      Brooklyn Navy Yard, where they had been undergoing repairs. The
      consequence was that only the K-2 was here to meet the German invasion&mdash;one
      lone submarine against a mighty fleet.
    </p>
    <p>
      Still, under favourable conditions, one lone submarine is a force to be
      reckoned with, as England learned in 1915.
    </p>
    <p>
      The K-2 attacked immediately, revealing her periscope for a minute as she
      took her observations. Then she launched a torpedo at a big German
      supply-ship not more than a thousand yards away.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Good-bye, ship!&rdquo; said Palmer, and we watched with fascinated interest the
      swift white line that marked the course of the torpedo. It struck the
      vessel squarely amidships, and she sank within five minutes, most of the
      men aboard being rescued by boats from the fleet.
    </p>
    <p>
      It now went ill with the K-2, however; for, having revealed her presence,
      she was pursued by the whole army of swift destroyers. She dived, and came
      up again two miles to the east, bent on sinking a German dreadnought; but,
      unfortunately, she rose to the surface almost under the nose of one of the
      destroyers, which bombarded her with its rapid-fire guns, and then, when
      she sank once more, dropped on her a small mine that exploded under water
      with shattering effect, finishing her.
    </p>
    <p>
      As I think it over, I feel sure that if those other five submarines had
      been ready with the K-2, we might have had another story to tell. Possibly
      the slowness of the Brooklyn Navy Yard&mdash;which is notorious, I
      understand&mdash;may have spoiled the one chance that America had to
      resist this invasion.
    </p>
    <p>
      The next day the five tardy submarines arrived; but conditions were now
      less favourable, since the invaders had had time to prepare their defence
      against this under-water peril. As we flew over East Hampton on the
      following afternoon, we were surprised to see five fully inflated
      air-ships of the nonrigid Parseval type floating in the blue sky, like
      grim sentinels guarding the German fleet. Down through the sun-lit ocean
      they could see the shadowy underwater craft lurking in the depths, and
      they carried high explosives to destroy them.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;How about our aeroplanes?&rdquo; grumbled Palmer.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Look!&rdquo; I answered, pointing toward the Shinnecock Hills, where some tiny
      specks appeared like soaring eagles. &ldquo;They&rsquo;re coming!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The American aeroplanes, at least, were on time, and as they swept nearer
      we counted ten of them, and our spirits rose; for ten swift aeroplanes
      armed with explosive bombs can make a lot of trouble for slower and
      clumsier aircraft.
    </p>
    <p>
      But alas for our hopes! The invaders were prepared also, and, before the
      American fliers had come within striking distance, they found themselves
      opposed by a score of military hydroplanes that rose presently, with a
      great whirring of propellers, from the decks of the German battle-ships.
      Had the Americans been able to concentrate here their entire force of
      fifty aeroplanes, the result might have been different; but the fifty had
      been divided along the Atlantic coast&mdash;ten aeroplanes and five
      submarines being assigned to each harbour that was to be defended.
    </p>
    <p>
      Now came the battle. And for hours, until night fell, we watched a strange
      and terrible conflict between these forces of air and water. With
      admirable skill and daring the American aeronauts manoeuvred for positions
      above the Parsevals, whence they could drop bombs; and so swift and
      successful were they that two of the enemy&rsquo;s air-ships were destroyed
      before the German aeroplanes really came into the action. After that it
      went badly for the American fliers, which were shot down, one by one,
      until only three of the ten remained. Then these three, seeing destruction
      inevitable, signalled for a last united effort, and, all together, flew at
      full speed straight for the great yellow gas-bag of the biggest Parseval
      and for certain death. As they tore into the flimsy air-ship there came a
      blinding flash, an explosion that shook the hills, and that brave deed was
      done.
    </p>
    <p>
      There remained two Parsevals to aid the enemy&rsquo;s fleet in its fight against
      American submarines, and I wish I might describe this fight in more
      detail. We saw a German transport torpedoed by the B-1; we saw two
      submarines sunk by rapid-fire guns of the destroyers; we saw a
      battle-cruiser crippled by the glancing blow of a torpedo; and we saw the
      K-1 blown to pieces by bombs from the air-ships. Two American submarines
      were still fighting, and of these one, after narrowly missing a
      dreadnought, sent a troop-ship to the bottom, and was itself rammed and
      sunk by a destroyer, the sea being spread with oil. The last submarine
      took to flight, it seems, because her supply of torpedoes was exhausted.
      And this left the invaders free to begin their landing operations.
    </p>
    <p>
      During four wonderful days (the Germans were favoured by light northeast
      breezes) Palmer and I hovered over these East Hampton shores, watching the
      enemy construct their landing platforms of brick and timbers from
      dynamited houses, watching the black transports as they disgorged from
      lighters upon the gleaming sand dunes their swarms of soldiers, their
      thousands of horses, their artillery, their food supplies. There seemed no
      limit to what these mighty vessels could carry.
    </p>
    <p>
      We agreed that the great 50,000-ton <i>Imperator</i> alone brought at
      least fifteen thousand men with all that they needed. And I counted twenty
      other huge transports; so my conservative estimate, cabled to the paper by
      way of Canada,&mdash;for the direct cables were cut,&mdash;was that in
      this invading expedition Germany had successfully landed on the shores of
      Long Island one hundred and fifty thousand fully equipped fighting-men. It
      seemed incredible that the great United States, with its vast wealth and
      resources, could be thus easily invaded; and I recalled with a pang what a
      miserable showing England had made in 1915 from similar unpreparedness.
    </p>
    <p>
      {Illustration: AS THE GERMAN LANDING OPERATIONS PROCEEDED, THE NEWS OF THE
      INVASION SPREAD OVER THE WHOLE REGION WITH THE SPEED OF ELECTRICITY. THE
      ENEMY WAS COMING! THE ENEMY WAS HERE. WHAT WAS TO BE DONE?}
    </p>
    <p>
      As the German landing operations proceeded, the news of the invasion
      spread over the whole region with the speed of electricity, and in every
      town and village on Long Island angry and excited and terrified crowds
      cursed and shouted and wept in the streets.
    </p>
    <p>
      The enemy was coming!
    </p>
    <p>
      The enemy was here!
    </p>
    <p>
      What was to be done?
    </p>
    <p>
      Should they resist?
    </p>
    <p>
      And many valorous speeches in the spirit of &lsquo;76 were made by farmers and
      clerks and wild-eyed women. What was to be done?
    </p>
    <p>
      In the peaceful town of East Hampton some sniping was done, and afterward
      bitterly repented of, the occasion being the arrival of a company of
      Uhlans with gleaming helmets, who galloped down the elm-lined main street
      with requisitions for food and supplies.
    </p>
    <p>
      Suddenly a shot was fired from Bert Osborne&rsquo;s livery stable, then another
      from White&rsquo;s drug store, then several others, and one of the Uhlans reeled
      in his saddle, slightly wounded. Whereupon, to avenge this attack and
      teach Long Islanders to respect their masters, the German fleet was
      ordered to shell the village.
    </p>
    <p>
      Half an hour later George Edwards, who was beating up the coast in his
      trim fishing schooner, after a two weeks&rsquo; absence in Barnegat Bay (he had
      heard nothing about the war with Germany), was astonished to see a German
      soldier in formidable helmet silhouetted against the sky on the eleventh
      tee of the Easthampton golf course, one of the three that rise above the
      sand dunes along the surging ocean, wigwagging signals to the warships off
      shore. And, presently, Edwards saw an ominous puff of white smoke break
      out from one of the dreadnoughts and heard the boom of a twelve-inch gun.
    </p>
    <p>
      The first shell struck the stone tower of the Episcopal church and hurled
      fragments of it against the vine-covered cottage next door, which had been
      the home a hundred and twenty years before of John Howard Payne, the
      original &ldquo;home sweet home.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The second shell struck John Drew&rsquo;s summer home and set it on fire; the
      third wrecked the Casino; the fourth destroyed Albert Herter&rsquo;s studio and
      slightly injured Edward T. Cockcroft and Peter Finley Dunne, who were
      playing tennis on the lawn. That night scarcely a dozen buildings in this
      beautiful old town remained standing. And the dead numbered more than
      three hundred, half of them being women and children.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER III. &mdash; GERMAN INVADERS DRIVE THE IRON INTO THE SOUL OF
      UNPREPARED AMERICA
    </h2>
    <p>
      The next week was one of deep humiliation for the American people. Our
      great fleet and our great Canal, which had cost so many hundreds of
      millions and were supposed to guarantee the safety of our coasts, had
      failed us in this hour of peril.
    </p>
    <p>
      Secretary Alger, in the Spanish War, never received half the punishment
      that the press now heaped on the luckless officials of the War and the
      Navy Departments.
    </p>
    <p>
      The New York <i>Tribune</i>, in a scathing attack upon the administration,
      said:
    </p>
    <p>
      The blow has fallen and the United States is totally unprepared to meet
      it. Why? Because the Democratic party, during its eight years&rsquo; tenure of
      office, has obstinately, stupidly and wickedly refused to do what was
      necessary to make this country safe against invasion by a foreign power.
      There has been a surfeit of talking, of explaining and of promising, but
      of definite accomplishment very little, and to-day, in our extreme peril,
      we find ourselves without an army or a navy that can cope with the
      invaders and protect our shores and our homes.
    </p>
    <p>
      Richard Harding Davis, in the <i>Evening Sun</i>, denounced unsparingly
      those Senators and Congressmen who, in 1916, had voted against national
      preparedness:
    </p>
    <p>
      For our present helpless condition and all that results from it, let the
      responsibility rest upon these Senators and Congressmen, who, for their
      own selfish ends, have betrayed the country. They are as guilty of treason
      as was ever Benedict Arnold. Were some of them hanged, the sight of them
      with their toes dancing on air might inspire other Congressmen to consider
      the safety of this country rather than their own re-election.
    </p>
    <p>
      The New York <i>World</i> published a memorable letter written by Samuel
      J. Tilden in December, 1885, to Speaker Carlisle of the Forty-ninth
      Congress on the subject of national defence and pointed out that Mr.
      Tilden was a man of far vision, intellectually the foremost democrat of
      his day. In this letter Mr. Tilden said:
    </p>
    <p>
      The property exposed to destruction in the twelve seaports, Portland,
      Portsmouth, Boston, Newport, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore,
      Charleston, Savannah, New Orleans, Galveston and San Francisco, cannot be
      less in value than five thousand millions of dollars.... While we may
      afford to be deficient in the means of offence we cannot afford to be
      defenceless. The notoriety of the fact that we have neglected the ordinary
      precautions of defence invites want of consideration in our diplomacy,
      injustice, arrogance and insult at the hands of foreign nations.
    </p>
    <p>
      To add to the general indignation, it transpired that the American reserve
      fleet, consisting of ten predreadnoughts, was tied up in the docks of
      Philadelphia, unable to move for lack of officers and men to handle them.
      After frantic orders from Washington and the loss of precious days, some
      two thousand members of the newly organised naval reserve were rushed to
      Philadelphia; but eight thousand men were needed to move this secondary
      fleet, and, even if the eight thousand had been forthcoming, it would have
      been too late; for by this time a German dreadnought was guarding the
      mouth of Delaware Bay, and these inferior ships would never have braved
      its guns. So here were seventy-five million dollars&rsquo; worth of American
      fighting-ships rendered absolutely useless and condemned to be idle during
      the whole war because of bad organisation.
    </p>
    <p>
      Meantime, the Germans were marching along the Motor Parkway toward New
      York City with an army of a hundred and fifty thousand, against which
      General Wood, by incredible efforts, was able to oppose a badly organised,
      inharmonious force of thirty thousand, including Federals and militia that
      had never once drilled together in large manoeuvres. Of Federal troops
      there was one regiment of infantry from Governor&rsquo;s Island, and this was
      short of men. There were two infantry regiments from Forts Niagara and
      Porter, in New York State. Also a regiment of colored cavalry from Fort
      Ethan Allen, Vermont, a battalion of field artillery from Fort Myer,
      Virginia, a battalion of engineers from Washington, D. C., a battalion of
      coast artillery organised as siege artillery from Fort Dupont, Delaware, a
      regiment of cavalry from Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia, two regiments of
      infantry from Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, one regiment of field artillery
      from Fort Sheridan, Illinois, one regiment of horse artillery from Fort
      Riley, Kansas, one regiment of infantry and one regiment of mountain guns
      from Fort D. A. Russell, Wyoming.
    </p>
    <p>
      I may add that at this time the United States army, in spite of many
      efforts to increase its size, numbered fewer than 70,000 men; and so many
      of these were tied up as Coast Artillery or absent in the Philippines,
      Honolulu, and the Canal Zone, that only about 30,000 were available as
      mobile forces for the national defence.
    </p>
    <p>
      As these various bodies of troops arrived in New York City and marched
      down Fifth Avenue with bands playing &ldquo;Dixie&rdquo; and colours flying, the
      excitement of cheering multitudes passed all description, especially when
      Theodore Roosevelt, in familiar slouch hat, appeared on a big black horse
      at the head of a hastily recruited regiment of Rough Riders, many of them
      veterans who had served under him in the Spanish War.
    </p>
    <p>
      Governor Malone reviewed the troops from the steps of the new Court House
      and the crowd went wild when the cadets from West Point marched past, in
      splendid order. At first I shared the enthusiasm of the moment; but
      suddenly I realised how pathetic it all was and Palmer seemed to see that
      side of it, too, though naturally he and I avoided all discussion of the
      future. In addition to such portions of the regular army as General Wood
      could gather together, his forces were supplemented by infantry and
      cavalry brigades of militia from New York, Pennsylvania, New Jersey,
      Connecticut, and Massachusetts, these troops being more or less unprepared
      for battle, more or less lacking in the accessories of battles, notably in
      field artillery and in artillery equipment of men and horses. One of the
      aides on General Wood&rsquo;s staff told me that the combined American forces
      went into action with only one hundred and fifty pieces of artillery
      against four hundred pieces that the Germans brought.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;And the wicked part of it is,&rdquo; he added, &ldquo;that there were two hundred
      other pieces of artillery we might have used if we had had men and horses
      to operate them; but&mdash;you can&rsquo;t make an artillery horse overnight.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Nor a gun crew,&rdquo; said I.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER IV. &mdash; INVASION OF LONG ISLAND AND THE BATTLE OF BROOKLYN
    </h2>
    <p>
      To meet this desperate situation and the enemy&rsquo;s greatly superior forces,
      General Wood decided not to advance against the Germans, but to intrench
      his army across the western end of Long Island, with his left flank
      resting on Fort Totten, near Bayside, and his nine-mile front extending
      through Creedmore, Rosedale, and Valley Stream, where his right flank
      would be guarded from sea attack by the big guns of Fort Hancock on Sandy
      Hook, which would hold the German fleet at a distance.
    </p>
    <p>
      Any military strategist will agree that this was the only course for the
      American commander to pursue under the circumstances; but unfortunately
      popular clamour will often have its way in republics, and in this case a
      violent three days&rsquo; gale&mdash;which arrived providentially, according to
      some of the newspapers&mdash;gave an appearance of reason to the general
      demand.
    </p>
    <p>
      This gale interfered seriously with the German landing operations,&mdash;in
      fact, it wrecked one of their supply-ships,&mdash;and, in consequence,
      such strong political pressure was brought to bear upon the President that
      orders came from Washington to General Wood that he advance his army
      against the invaders and drive them into the sea. The General made a few
      remarks not for publication, and obeyed. As he told me afterward, it is
      doubtful whether the result would have been different in any event.
    </p>
    <p>
      In throwing forward his forces, General Wood used the three lines of
      railroad that cross Long Island from west to east; and on May 17 his
      battleline reached from Patchogue through Holtsville to Port Jefferson.
      Meantime, the Germans had advanced to a line that extended from East
      Moriches to Manorville; and on May 18 the first clash came at daybreak in
      a fierce cavalry engagement fought at Yaphank, in which the enemy were
      driven back in confusion. It was first blood for the Americans.
    </p>
    <p>
      This initial success, however, was soon changed to disaster. On May 19 the
      invaders advanced again, with strengthened lines, under the support of the
      big guns of their fleet, which stood offshore and, guided by aeroplane
      observers, rained explosive shells upon General Wood&rsquo;s right flank with
      such accuracy that the Americans were forced to withdraw. Whereupon the
      Germans, using the famous hook formation that served them so well in their
      drive across northern France in the summer of 1914, pressed forward
      relentlessly, the fleet supporting them in a deadly flanking attack upon
      the American right wing.
    </p>
    <p>
      On May 20 von Hindenburg established his headquarters at Forest Hills,
      where, less than a year before, his gallant countryman, the great
      Fraitzheim, had made an unsuccessful effort to wrest the Davis cup from
      the American champion and ex-champion, Murray and McLoughlin.
    </p>
    <p>
      But that was a year ago!
    </p>
    <p>
      In the morning General Wood&rsquo;s forces continued to retreat, fighting with
      dogged courage in a costly rear-guard action, and destroying railroads and
      bridges as they went. The carnage wrought by the German six- and
      eleven-inch explosive shells with delayed-action fuses was frightful
      beyond anything I have ever known. Ten feet into the ground these
      projectiles would bury themselves before exploding, and then&mdash;well,
      no army could stand against them.
    </p>
    <p>
      On May 22 General Wood was driven back to his original line of defences
      from Fort Totten to Valley Stream, where he now prepared to make a last
      stand to save Brooklyn, which stretched behind him with its peaceful
      spires and its miles of comfortable homes. Here the Americans were safe
      from the hideous pounding of the German fleet, and, although their losses
      in five days amounted to more than six thousand men, these had been
      replaced by reinforcements of militia from the West and South. There was
      still hope, especially as the Germans, once they advanced beyond Westbury
      and its famous polo fields, would come within range of the heavy mortars
      of Fort Totten and Fort Hamilton, which carried thirteen miles.
    </p>
    <p>
      That night the German commander, General von Hindenburg, under a flag of
      truce, called upon the Americans to surrender in order to save the Borough
      of Brooklyn from destruction.
    </p>
    <p>
      General Wood refused this demand; and on May 23, at dawn, under cover of
      his heavy siege-guns, von Hindenburg threw forward his veterans in
      terrific massed attack, striking simultaneously at three points with three
      army divisions&mdash;one in a drive to the right toward Fort Totten, one
      in a drive to the left toward Fort Hamilton, and one in a drive straight
      ahead against General Wood&rsquo;s centre and the heart of Brooklyn.
    </p>
    <p>
      All day the battle lasted&mdash;the battle of Brooklyn&mdash;with
      house-to-house fighting and repeated bayonet charges. And at night the
      invaders, outnumbering the American troops five to one, were everywhere
      victorious. The defender&rsquo;s line broke first at Valley Stream, where the
      Germans, led by the famous Black Hussars, flung themselves furiously with
      cold steel upon the militiamen and put them to flight. By sundown the
      Uhlans were galloping, unopposed, along the broad sweep of the Eastern
      Parkway and parallel streets towards Prospect Park, where the high land
      offered an admirable site for the German artillery, since it commanded
      Fort Hamilton from the rear and the entire spread of Brooklyn and
      Manhattan.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was now that Field Marshal von Hindenburg and his staff, speeding along
      the Parkway in dark grey military automobiles, witnessed a famous act of
      youthful heroism. As they swung across the Plaza to turn into Flatbush
      Avenue von Hindenburg ordered his chauffeur to slow up so that he might
      view the Memorial Arch and the MacMonnies statues of our Civil War heroes,
      and at this moment a sharp burst of rifle fire sounded across Prospect
      Park.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What is that?&rdquo; asked the commander, then he ordered a staff officer to
      investigate.
    </p>
    <p>
      It appears that on this fateful morning five thousand American High School
      lads, from fifteen to eighteen years of age, members of the Athletic
      League of New York Public Schools, who had been trained in these schools
      to shoot accurately, had answered the call for volunteers and rallied to
      the defence of their city. By trolley, subway and ferry they came from all
      parts of Brooklyn, Manhattan, Harlem, Staten Island and the Bronx, eager
      to show what their months of work with subtarget gun machines, practice
      rods and gallery shooting, also their annual match on the Peekskill Rifle
      Range, would now avail against the enemy. But when they assembled on the
      Prospect Parade Ground, ready to do or die, they found that the entire
      supply of rifles for their use was one hundred and twenty-five!
      Seventy-five Krags, thirty Springfields and one hundred and twenty
      Winchesters, 22-calibre muskets&mdash;toys fit for shooting squirrels, and
      only a small supply of cartridges. The rifles available were issued to
      such of the boys as had won their badges of sharpshooter and marksman, two
      boys being assigned to each gun, so that if one was shot the other could
      go on fighting.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It was pitiful,&rdquo; said General George W. Wingate, President of the League,
      who was directing their movements, &ldquo;to see the grief of those brave boys
      as they heard the German guns approaching and realised that they had
      nothing to fight with. Five thousand trained riflemen and no rifles!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Nearer and nearer came the flanking force of the invading host and
      presently it reached the outskirts of this beautiful park, which with hill
      and lake and greensward covers five hundred acres in the heart of
      Brooklyn. A few boys were deployed as skirmishers along the eastern edge
      of the Park, but the mass occupied hastily dug trenches near the monument
      to the Maryland troops on Lookout Hill and the brass tablet that
      commemorate the battle of Long Island. At these historic points for half
      an hour they made a stand against a Bavarian regiment that advanced slowly
      under cover of artillery fire, not realising that they were sweeping to
      death a crowd of almost unarmed schoolboys.
    </p>
    <p>
      Even so the Americans did deadly execution until their ammunition was
      practically exhausted. Then, seeing the situation hopeless, the head
      coaches, Emanuel Haug, John A. C. Collins, Donald D. Smith and Paul B.
      Mann, called for volunteers to hold the monument with the few remaining
      cartridges, while the rest of the boys retreated. Hundreds clamoured for
      this desperate honour, and finally the coaches selected seventy of those
      who had qualified as sharpshooters to remain and face almost certain
      death, among these being: Jack Condon of the Morris High School, J. Vernet
      (Manual Training), Lynn Briggs (Erasmus), Isaac Smith (Curtis), Charles
      Mason (Commercial), C. Anthony (Bryant), J. Rosenfeld (Stuyvesant), V.
      Doran (Flushing), M. Marnash (Eastern District), F. Scanlon (Bushwick),
      Winthrop F. Foskett (De Witt Clinton), and Richard Humphries (Jamaica).
    </p>
    <p>
      Such was the situation when Field Marshal von Hindenburg dashed up in his
      motor car. Seventy young American patriots on top of Lookout Hill, with
      their last rounds of toy ammunition, were holding back a German regiment
      while their comrades fled for their lives. And surely they would have been
      a martyred seventy, since the Bavarians were about to charge in full
      force, had not von Hindenburg taken in the situation at a glance and
      shouted:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Halt! It is not fitting that a German regiment shall use its strength
      against a handful of boys. Let them guard their monument! March on!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Meantime, to the east and north of the city the battle raged and terror
      spread among the populace. All eyes were fixed on New York as a haven of
      refuge and, by the bridge, ferry and tunnel, hundreds of thousands made
      their escape from Brooklyn.
    </p>
    <p>
      The three great bridges stretching their giant black arms across the river
      were literally packed with people&mdash;fathers, mothers, children, all on
      foot, for the trolleys were hopelessly blocked. A man told me afterwards
      that it took him seven hours to cross with his wife and their two little
      girls.
    </p>
    <p>
      Other swarms hovered about the tunnel entrances and stormed the
      ferry-boats at their slips. Every raft in the harbour carried its load.
      The Pennsylvania and Erie ferries from the other side of Manhattan, the
      Staten Island boats, the Coney Island and other excursion steamers,
      struggled through the press of sea traffic and I heard that three of these
      vessels sank of their own weight. Here and there, hardly discernible among
      the larger craft, were the small boats, life-boats, canoes, anything and
      everything that would float, each bearing its little group to a precarious
      safety on Manhattan Island.
    </p>
    <p>
      Meantime, Fort Totten and Fort Hamilton had been taken from the rear by
      overwhelming forces, and their mortars had been used to silence the guns
      of Fort Schuyler and Fort Wadsworth. In this emergency, seeing the
      situation hopeless, General Wood withdrew his forces in good order under
      cover of a rear-guard action between the Uhlans and the United States
      colored cavalry, and, hurrying before him the crowds of fleeing civilians,
      marched his troops in three divisions across the Brooklyn Bridge, leaving
      Brooklyn in flames behind him. Then facing inexorable necessity, he
      ordered his engineers to blow up these three beautiful spans that had cost
      hundreds of millions, and to flood the subways between Brooklyn and
      Manhattan.
    </p>
    <p>
      Seen through the darkness at the moment of its ruin the vast steel
      structure of the Brooklyn Bridge, with its dim arches and filaments, was
      like a thing of exquisite lace. In shreds it fell, a tangled, twisted,
      tragically wrecked piece of magnificence.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER V. &mdash; GENERAL VON HINDENBURG TEACHES NEW YORK CITY A LESSON
    </h2>
    <p>
      On May 24, 1921, the situation of New York City was seen to be desperate,
      and most of the newspapers, even those that had clamoured loudest for
      resistance and boasted of American valour and resourcefulness, now
      admitted that the metropolis must submit to a German occupation.
    </p>
    <p>
      Even the women among the public officials and political leaders were
      inclined to a policy of nonresistance. General Wood was urged to surrender
      the city and avoid the horrors of bombardment; but the commander replied
      that his first duty was to defend the territory of the United States, and
      that every day he could keep the enemy isolated on Long Island was a day
      gained for the permanent defences that were frantically organising all
      over the country.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was vital, too, that the immense stores of gold and specie in the
      vaults of the Federal Reserve and other great New York banks should be
      safely transported to Chicago.
    </p>
    <p>
      All day and all night, automobile trucks, operated under orders from
      William G. McAdoo, Governor of the Federal Reserve Bank, loaded with
      millions and millions of gold, passed unprotected and almost unheeded
      through the crowded section between Wall Street and the Grand Central
      Station. The people stared at them dumbly. They knew what was going on.
      They knew they could have a fortune by reaching out their hands. But at
      this moment, with their eternities in their eyes, they had no thought of
      gold. Hour after hour the work went on. Finally, subway trains and street
      cars were pressed into service as treasure-carriers.
    </p>
    <p>
      By night $800,000,000 had started West and the next morning Chicago was
      the financial capital of America.
    </p>
    <p>
      At midnight General Wood gave final orders for resistance to the last gun
      and the last man; and, when early the next morning the German general
      again sent officers with a flag of truce demanding the surrender of
      Manhattan Island, Wood&rsquo;s reply was a firm refusal. He tried, however, to
      gain time in negotiations; and a few hours later I accompanied a
      delegation of American staff officers with counter-proposals across the
      East River in a launch. I can see von Hindenburg now, in his high boots
      and military coat, as he received the American officers at the foot of the
      shattered Brooklyn Bridge. A square massive head with close-cropped white
      hair, brushed straight back from a broad forehead. And sad searching eyes&mdash;wonderful
      eyes.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Then you refuse to surrender? You think you can fight?&rdquo; the Field Marshal
      demanded.
    </p>
    <p>
      At which the ranking American officer, stung by his arrogance, declared
      that they certainly did think they could fight, and would prove it.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ah! So!&rdquo; said von Hindenburg, and he glanced at a gun crew who were
      loading a half-ton projectile into an 11.1-inch siege-gun that stood on
      the pavement. &ldquo;Which is the Woolworth Building?&rdquo; he asked, pointing across
      the river.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The tallest one, Excellency&mdash;the one with the Gothic lines and
      gilded cornices,&rdquo; replied one of his officers.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ah, yes, of course. I recognise it from the pictures. It&rsquo;s beautiful.
      Gentlemen,&rdquo;&mdash;he addressed the American officers,&mdash;&ldquo;I am offering
      twenty-dollar gold pieces to this gun crew if they bring down that tower
      with a single shot. Now, then, careful!...
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ready!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      We covered our ears as the shot crashed forth, and a moment later the most
      costly and graceful tower in the world seemed to stagger on its base.
      Then, as the thousand-pound shell, striking at the twenty-seventh story,
      exploded deep inside, clouds of yellow smoke poured out through the
      crumbling walls, and the huge length of twenty-four stories above the
      jagged wound swayed slowly toward the east, and fell as one piece,
      flinging its thousands of tons of stone and steel straight across the
      width of Broadway, and down upon the grimy old Post Office Building
      opposite.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>&ldquo;Sehr gut!&rdquo;</i> nodded von Hindenburg. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s amusing to see them fall.
      Suppose we try another? What&rsquo;s that one to the left?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The Singer Building, Excellency,&rdquo; answered the officer.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Good! Are you ready?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Then the tragedy was repeated, and six hundred more were added to the
      death toll, as the great tower crumbled to earth.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Now, gentlemen,&rdquo;&mdash;von Hindenburg turned again to the American
      officers with a tiger gleam in his eyes,&mdash;&ldquo;you see what we have done
      with two shots to two of your tallest and finest buildings. At this time
      to-morrow, with God&rsquo;s help, we shall have a dozen guns along this bank of
      the river, ready for whatever may be necessary. And two of our <i>Parsevals</i>,
      each carrying a ton of dynamite, will float over New York City. I give you
      until twelve o&rsquo;clock to-morrow to decide whether you will resist or
      capitulate. At twelve o&rsquo;clock we begin firing.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Our instructions were to return at once in the launch by the shortest
      route to the Battery, where automobiles were waiting to take us to General
      Wood&rsquo;s headquarters in the Metropolitan Tower. I can close my eyes to-day
      and see once more those pictures of terror and despair that were spread
      before us as we whirled through the crowded streets behind the crashing
      hoofs of a cavalry escort. The people knew who we were, where we had been,
      and they feared what our message might be.
    </p>
    <p>
      Broadway, of course, was impassable where the mass of red brick from the
      Singer Building filled the great canyon as if a glacier had spread over
      the region, or as if the lava from a man-made Aetna had choked this great
      thoroughfare.
    </p>
    <p>
      Through the side streets we snatched hasty impressions of unforgetable
      scenes. Into the densely populated regions around Grand and Houston
      Streets the evicted people of Brooklyn had poured. And into the homes of
      these miserably poor people, where you can walk for blocks without hearing
      a word in the English tongue, Brooklyn&rsquo;s derelicts had been absorbed by
      tens of thousands.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here came men and women from all parts of Manhattan, the rich in their
      automobiles, the poor on foot, bearing bundles of food and eager to help
      in the work of humanity. And some, alas, were busy with the sinister
      business of looting.
    </p>
    <p>
      Above Fourteenth Street we had glimpses of similar scenes and I learned
      later that almost every family in Manhattan received some Brooklyn
      homeless ones into their care. New York&mdash;for once&mdash;was
      hospitable.
    </p>
    <p>
      In Madison Square the people waited in silence as we approached the great
      white tower from which the Commander of the Army of the East, unmindful of
      the fate of the Woolworth and the Singer buildings, watched for further
      moves from the fortified shores of Brooklyn. Not a shout greeted our
      arrival at the marble entrance facing the square, not even that murmur of
      expectancy which sweeps over a tense gathering. The people knew the answer
      of von Hindenburg. They had read it, as had all the world for miles
      around, in the cataclysm of the plunging towers.
    </p>
    <p>
      New York must surrender or perish!
    </p>
    <p>
      Scarcely three blocks away, the Committee of Public Safety, numbering one
      hundred, sat in agitated council at the Madison Square Garden, while
      enormous crowds, shouting and murmuring, surged outside, where five
      hundred armed policemen tried vainly to quell the spirit of riot that was
      in the air. Far into the night the discussion lasted, while overhead in
      the purple-black sky floated the two <i>Parsevals</i>, ominous visitors,
      their search-lights playing over the helpless city that was to feel their
      wrath on the morrow unless it yielded.
    </p>
    <p>
      Meantime, on the square platform within the great Moorish building, a
      hundred leading citizens of Manhattan, including the ablest and the
      richest and a few of the most radical, spoke their minds, while thousands
      of men and women, packed in the galleries and the aisles, listened
      heart-sick for some gleam of comfort.
    </p>
    <p>
      And there was none.
    </p>
    <p>
      Among the Committee of Public Safety I recognised J. P. Morgan, Jacob H.
      Sehiff, John D. Rockefeller, Charles F. Murphy, Andrew Carnegie, Vincent
      Astor, Cardinal Farley, Colonel Jacob Ruppert, Nicholas Murray Butler, S.
      Stanwood Menken, Paul M. Warburg, John Finley, Mrs. O. H. P. Belmont,
      James E. Gaffney, Ida Tarbell, Norman Hapgood, William Randolph Hearst,
      Senator Whitman, Bernard Ridder, Frank A. Munsey, Henry Morgenthau, Elihu
      Root, Henry L. Stimson, Franklin Q. Brown, John Mitchell, John Wanamaker,
      Dr. Parkhurst, Thomas A. Edison, Colonel George Harvey, Douglas Robinson,
      John Hays Hammond, Theodore Shonts, William Dean Howells, Alan R. Hawley,
      Samuel Gompers, August Belmont, Dr. Anna Howard Shaw, the Rev. Percy
      Stickney Grant, Judge E. H. Gary, Emerson McMillin, Cornelius Vanderbilt,
      and ex-Mayor Mitchel.
    </p>
    <p>
      Former President Wilson motored over from Princeton, accompanied by
      Professor McClellan, and was greeted with cheers. Ex-President Taft was
      speaking at the time, advocating a dignified appeal to the Hague Tribunal
      for an adjudication of the matter according to international law. Nearly
      all of the speakers favoured non-resistance, so far as New York City was
      concerned. With scarcely a dissenting voice, the great financial and
      business interests represented here demanded that New York City capitulate
      immediately.
    </p>
    <p>
      Whereupon Theodore Roosevelt, who had just entered the Garden with his
      uniform still smeared with Long Island mud, sprang to his feet and cried
      out that he would rather see Manhattan Island sunk in the Bay than
      disgraced by so cowardly a surrender. There was still hope, he declared.
      The East River was impassable for the enemy. All shipping had been
      withdrawn from Brooklyn shores, and the German fleet dared not enter the
      Ambrose Channel and the lower bay so long as the Sandy Hook guns held out.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We are a great nation,&rdquo; Roosevelt shouted, &ldquo;full of courage and
      resourcefulness. Let us stand together against these invaders, as our
      forefathers stood at Lexington and Bunker Hill!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      During the cheers that followed this harangue, my attention was drawn to
      an agitated group on the platform, the central figure being Bernard
      Ridder, recognised leader of the large German-American population of New
      York City that had remained staunchly loyal in the crisis. Presently a
      clamour from the crowd outside, sharper and fiercer than any that had
      preceded it, announced some new and unexpected danger close at hand.
    </p>
    <p>
      White-faced, Mr. Ridder stepped to the edge of the platform and lifted his
      hand impressively.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Let me speak,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;I must speak in justice to myself and to half a
      million German-Americans of this city, who are placed in a terrible
      position by news that I have just received. I wish to say that we are
      Americans first, not Germans! We are loyal to the city, loyal to this
      country, and whatever happens here tonight&mdash;&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      At this moment a tumult of shouts was heard at the Madison Avenue
      entrance, and above it a shrill purring sound that seemed to strike
      consternation into an army officer who sat beside me.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;My God!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;The machine-guns! The Germans are in the streets!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VI. &mdash; VARIOUS UNPLEASANT HAPPENINGS IN MANHATTAN
    </h2>
    <h3>
      I shall never forget the horror of that hoarse cry:
    </h3>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The Germans are in the streets!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      What followed was still more terrifying. Somewhere at the back of the
      Garden, a piercing whistle cut the air&mdash;evidently a signal&mdash;and
      suddenly we found ourselves facing a ghastly tragedy, and were made to
      realise the resistless superiority of a small body of disciplined troops
      over a disorganised multitude.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;<i>Fertig! Los! Hup!</i>&rdquo; shouted a loud voice (it was a man with a
      megaphone) in the first gallery opposite the platform. Every face in that
      tremendous throng turned at once in the direction of the stranger&rsquo;s voice.
      And before the immense audience knew what was happening, five hundred
      German soldiers, armed with pistols and repeating rifles, had sprung to
      life, alert and formidable, at vantage-points all over the Garden. Two
      hundred, with weapons ready, guarded the platform and the Committee of
      Public Safety. And, in little groups of threes and fives, back to back,
      around the iron columns that rose through the galleries, stood three
      hundred more with flashing barrels levelled at the crowds.
    </p>
    <p>
      I counted fifteen of these dominating groups of soldiers in the northern
      half of the lower gallery, and it was the same in the southern half and
      the same on both sides of the upper gallery, which made sixty armed groups
      in sixty strategic positions. There was nothing for the crowd to do but
      yield.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Pass out, everybody!&rdquo; screamed the megaphone man. &ldquo;We fire at the first
      disorder.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Out, everybody!&rdquo; roared the soldiers. &ldquo;We fire at the first disorder.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      As if to emphasise this, an automatic pistol crackled at the far end of
      the Garden, and frantic crowds pushed for the doors in abject terror.
      There was no thought of resistance.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Use all the exits,&rdquo; yelled the megaphone man; and the order was passed on
      by the soldiers from group to group. And presently there rolled out into
      the streets and avenues through the thirty great doors and down the six
      outside stairways that zigzag across the building such streams of
      white-faced, staggering, fainting humanity as never had been seen on
      Manhattan Island.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was driven out with the others (except the Committee of Public Safety),
      and was happy to find myself with a whole skin in Twenty-sixth Street
      opposite the Manhattan Club. As I passed a group of German soldiers near
      the door, I observed that they wore grey uniforms. I wondered at this
      until I saw overcoats at their feet, and realised that they had entered
      the Garden like spies with the audience of citizens, their uniforms and
      weapons being concealed under ordinary outer garments, which they had
      thrown off at the word of command.
    </p>
    <p>
      We stumbled into the street, and were driven roughly by other German
      soldiers toward the open space of Madison Square. We fled over red and
      slippery pavements, strewn with the bodies of dead and wounded policemen
      and civilians&mdash;the hideous harvest of the machine-guns. At the corner
      of Madison Avenue and Twenty-fifth Street I saw an immense coal-carrying
      motor-truck with plates of iron covering its four sides, and through
      loopholes in the plates I saw murderous muzzles protruding.
    </p>
    <p>
      It appears that shortly after midnight, at the height of the debate, four
      of these armoured cars came lumbering toward the Garden from west and
      east, north and south; and, as they neared the four corners of the immense
      yellow building, without warning they opened fire upon the police, which
      meant inevitably upon the crowd also. In each truck were a dozen soldiers
      and six machine-guns, each one capable of firing six hundred shots a
      minute. There was no chance for resistance, and within a quarter of an
      hour the streets surrounding the Garden were a shambles. On Madison
      Avenue, just in front of the main entrance, I saw bodies lying three deep,
      many of them hideously mutilated by the explosive effects of these bullets
      at short range. As I stepped across the curb in front of the S.P.C.A.
      building, I cried out in horror; for there on the sidewalk lay a young
      mother&mdash;But why describe the horror of that scene?
    </p>
    <p>
      With difficulty I succeeded in hiring a taxicab and set out to find
      General Wood or some officer of his staff from whom I might get an
      understanding of these tragic events. Who were those German soldiers at
      the Garden? Where did they come from? Were they German-Americans?
    </p>
    <p>
      It was four o&rsquo;clock in the morning before I located General Wood at the
      plaza of the Queensborough Bridge, where he was overseeing the placing of
      some artillery pieces. He was too busy to talk to me, but from one of his
      aides I learned that the soldiers at the Madison Square Garden were not
      German-Americans and were not von Hindenburg&rsquo;s men, but were part of that
      invisible army of German spies that invariably precedes the invading
      forces of the Kaiser. Arriving a few hundred at a time for a period of
      more than three years, 50,000 of these German spies, fully armed and
      equipped, now held New York at their mercy. More than that, they had in
      their actual physical possession the men who owned half the wealth of the
      nation. That New York would capitulate was a foregone conclusion.
    </p>
    <p>
      After cabling this news, I went back to my hotel, the old Brevoort, for a
      snatch of sleep; and at half-past eight I was out in the streets again.
      The first thing that caught my eye was a black-lettered proclamation&mdash;posted
      by German spies, no doubt&mdash;over Henri&rsquo;s barber shop, and signed by
      General von Hindenburg, announcing the capitulation of New York City. The
      inhabitants were informed that they had nothing to fear. Their lives and
      property would be protected, and they would find the Germans just and
      generous in all their dealings. Food and supplies would be paid for at the
      market price, and citizens would be recompensed for all services rendered.
      The activities of New York would go on as usual, and there would be no
      immediate occupation of Manhattan Island by German troops. All orders from
      the conquering army in Brooklyn must be implicitly obeyed, under penalty
      of bombardment.
    </p>
    <p>
      I could scarcely believe my eyes. New York City had capitulated! I asked a
      man beside me&mdash;an agitated citizen in an orange tie&mdash;whether
      this could be true. He said it was&mdash;all the morning papers confirmed
      it. The immense pressure from Wall Street upon Washington, owing to the
      hold-up of multimillionaires, had resulted in orders from the President
      that the city surrender and that General Wood&rsquo;s forces withdraw to New
      Jersey.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What about John D. Rockefeller and Andrew Carnegie and J. P. Morgan and
      the other hostages?&rdquo; I asked.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The <i>Sun</i> says they have been taken over to Brooklyn where the
      German army is, and they&rsquo;ve got to raise a billion dollars in gold.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;A billion dollars in gold!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Sure; as an indemnity for New York City. You&rsquo;ll notice we could have
      bought a few defences for that billion,&rdquo; sniffed the angry citizen.
    </p>
    <p>
      Things moved rapidly after this. All the shipping in waters about the
      island metropolis, including ferry-boats, launches, pilot-boats,
      everything that floated, was delivered over to the Germans. The Sandy Hook
      defences were delivered over, and the rivers and bays were cleared of
      mines. All motor-cars, supplies of gasolene, firearms, and ammunition in
      New York City were seized and removed to Brooklyn. The telephone service
      was taken over by the Germans and operated by them, chiefly for military
      purposes. The mail service ceased. The newspapers were ordered not to
      appear&mdash;with the exception of the <i>Staats-Zeitung</i>, which became
      the official organ of the invaders and proceeded to publish editions in
      English as well as German.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What will happen if we go ahead and get out the paper in spite of your
      order?&rdquo; inquired the city editor of the <i>Evening Journal</i> when a
      youthful Prussian officer informed him that the paper must not appear.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Oh, you will be shot and William Randolph Hearst will be shot,&rdquo; said the
      officer pleasantly.
    </p>
    <p>
      About noon on the day of capitulation, May 25, 1921, a company of German
      soldiers with two machine guns, two ammunition carts and a line of motor
      trucks landed at the Battery and marched quietly up Broadway, then turned
      into Wall Street and stopped outside the banking house of J. P. Morgan
      &amp; Co. A captain of hussars in brilliant uniform and wearing an
      eyeglass went inside with eight of his men and explained politely to the
      manager that the Germans had arranged with J. P. Morgan personally that
      they were to receive five million dollars a day in gold on account of the
      indemnity and, as four days&rsquo; payment, that is twenty million dollars, were
      now due, the captain would be obliged if the manager would let him have
      twenty million dollars in gold immediately. Also a match for his
      cigarette.
    </p>
    <p>
      The manager, greatly disturbed, assured the captain that there was not as
      much money as that in the bank, all the gold in New York having been sent
      out of the city.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; said the officer with a smile. &ldquo;That will simply put you to the
      trouble of having it sent back again. You see, we hold the men who own
      this gold. Besides, I think you can, with an effort, get together this
      trifling amount.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The manager vowed it was utterly impossible, whereupon the captain
      motioned to one of his men, who, it turned out, had been for years a
      trusted employee of J. P. Morgan &amp; Co. and had made himself familiar
      with every detail of Wall Street affairs. He knew where a reserve store of
      gold was hidden and the consequence was that half an hour later the German
      soldiers marched back to the Battery, their motor trucks groaning under
      the weight of twenty million dollars in double eagles and bullion.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You see, we need some small change to buy eggs and chickens and
      vegetables with,&rdquo; laughed the officer. &ldquo;We are very particular to pay for
      everything we take.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      An hour later the first show of resistance to German authority came when a
      delegation of staff officers from General von Hindenburg visited the city
      hall to instruct Mayor McAneny as to the efficient running of the various
      municipal departments. I had the details of this conference from the
      mayor&rsquo;s private secretary. The officers announced that there would be no
      interference with the ordinary life of the city so long as the results
      were satisfactory. Business must go on as usual. Theatres and places of
      amusement were to remain open. The city must be gay, just as Berlin was
      gay in 1915.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the other hand any disorder or failure to provide for German needs in
      the matter of food and supplies would be severely dealt with. Every
      morning there must be delivered at the foot of Fulton Street, Brooklyn,
      definite quantities of meat, poultry, eggs, butter, vegetables, flour,
      milk, sugar, fruits, beer, coffee, tea, besides a long and detailed list
      of army supplies.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Suppose we cannot get these things?&rdquo; protested the mayor. &ldquo;Suppose the
      train service to New York is cut off by General Wood&rsquo;s army?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Hah!&rdquo; snorted a red-faced colonel of artillery. &ldquo;There are two and a half
      million Americans on Manhattan Island&mdash;and we&rsquo;ll see that they stay
      there&mdash;who will starve within one week if General Wood cuts off the
      train service. I don&rsquo;t think he will cut it off, Mr. McAneny.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Besides, my dear sir,&rdquo; drawled a slender English-looking officer, wearing
      the iron cross, &ldquo;if there should be any interference with our food supply,
      remember that we can destroy your gas and electric lighting plants, we can
      cripple your transportation system and possibly cut off your water supply
      with a few well directed shots. Don&rsquo;t forget that, Mr. McAneny.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The trouble began as these German officers walked down Broadway with a
      small escort of soldiers. Whenever they passed a policeman they required
      him to salute, in accordance with published orders, but a big Irishman was
      defiant and the officers stopped to teach him manners. At which a crowd
      gathered that blocked Broadway and the officers were insulted and jostled
      and one of them lost his helmet. There was no serious disorder, but the
      Germans made it a matter of principle and an hour later the <i>Staats
      Zeitung</i> came out with a special edition announcing that, inasmuch as
      disrespect had been shown to five German officers by a Broadway crowd, it
      now became necessary to give the city an object lesson that would, it was
      hoped, prevent such a regrettable occurrence in the future. That evening
      five six-inch shells would be fired by German siege guns in Brooklyn at
      five indicated open spaces in Manhattan, these being chosen to avoid
      losses of life and property. The first shell would be fired at seven
      o&rsquo;clock and would strike in Battery Park; the second at 7.05 and would
      strike in Union Square; the third at 7.10 and would strike in Madison
      Square; the fourth at 7.15 and would strike in Stuyvesant Square; the
      fifth at 7.20 and would strike in Central Park just north of the Plaza.
    </p>
    <p>
      This announcement was carried out to the letter, the five shells exploding
      at the exact points and moments indicated, and the people realised with
      what horrible precision the German artillery-men held Manhattan island at
      their mercy.
    </p>
    <p>
      The newspapers also received their object lesson through the action of the
      <i>Evening Telegram</i> in bringing out an extra announcing the
      bombardment. My own desk being in the foreign editor&rsquo;s room, I witnessed
      this grim occurrence. At half-past five a boyish-looking lieutenant
      sauntered in and asked for the managing editor, who was sitting with his
      feet on a desk.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Good-evening,&rdquo; said the German. &ldquo;You have disobeyed orders in getting out
      this edition. I am sorry.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The editor stared at him, not understanding. &ldquo;Well, what&rsquo;s the answer?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The officer&rsquo;s eyes were sympathetic and his tone friendly. He glanced at
      his wrist watch. &ldquo;The answer is that I give you twenty minutes to
      telephone your family, then I&rsquo;m going to take you up on the roof and have
      you shot. I am sorry.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Twenty minutes later they stood up this incredulous editor behind the
      illuminated owls that blinked down solemnly upon the turmoil of Herald
      Square and shot him to death as arranged.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VII. &mdash; NEW HAVEN IS PUNISHED FOR RIOTING AND INSUBORDINATION
    </h2>
    <p>
      Meantime the United States from coast to coast was seething with rage and
      humiliation. This incredible, impossible thing had happened. New York City
      was held by the enemy, and its greatest citizens, whose names were
      supposed to shake the world&mdash;Rockefeller, Morgan, Carnegie,
      Vanderbilt,&mdash;were helpless prisoners. General Wood&rsquo;s defeated army
      had been driven back into New Jersey, and was waiting there for von
      Hindenburg&rsquo;s next move, praying for more artillery, more ammunition, more
      officers, and more soldiers. Let this nation be threatened, Secretary of
      State Bryan had said, and between sunrise and sunset a million men would
      spring to arms. Well, this was the time for them to spring; but where were
      the arms? Nowhere! It would take a year to manufacture what was needed! A
      year to make officers! A year to make soldiers! And the enemy was here
      with mailed fist thundering at the gates!
    </p>
    <p>
      The question now heard in all the clubs and newspaper offices, and in
      diplomatic circles at Washington, was, which way would von Hindenburg
      strike when he left New York? Would it be toward Boston or toward
      Philadelphia? And why did he delay his blow, now that the metropolis,
      after a week&rsquo;s painful instruction, was resigning itself to a Germanised
      existence, with German officials collecting the New York custom house
      revenues and a German flag flying from the statue of Liberty? What was von
      Hindenburg waiting for?
    </p>
    <p>
      On the 3d of June these questions were dramatically answered by the
      arrival of another invading expedition, which brought a second force of
      one hundred and fifty thousand German soldiers. What cheering there was
      from Brooklyn shores as these transports and convoys, black with men,
      steamed slowly into the ravished upper bay, their bands crashing out
      &ldquo;Deutschland Über Alles&rdquo; and their proud eagles floating from all the
      mast-heads!
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;This makes three hundred thousand first-class fighting-men,&rdquo; scowled
      Frederick Palmer as we watched the pageant. &ldquo;What is Leonard Wood going to
      do about it?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I know what von Hindenburg is going to do,&rdquo; said I, taking the role of
      prophet. &ldquo;Divide his forces and start two drives&mdash;one through New
      England to Boston, and one to Washington.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      As a matter of fact, this is exactly what the German general did do&mdash;and
      he lost no time about it. On June 5, von Hindenburg, with an army of
      125,000, began his march toward Trenton, and General von Kluck, who had
      arrived with the second expedition, started for Boston with an equal
      force. This left 50,000 German troops in Brooklyn to control New York City
      and to form a permanent military base on Long Island.
    </p>
    <p>
      General Wood&rsquo;s position was terribly difficult. His army, encamped half
      way between Trenton and Westfield, had been increased to 75,000 men; but
      50,000 of these from the militia were sadly lacking in arms and
      organisation, and 5,000 were raw recruits whose first army work had been
      done within the month. He had 20,000 regulars, not half of whom had ever
      seen active warfare. And against these von Hindenburg was advancing with
      125,000 veterans who had campaigned together in France and who were
      equipped with the best fighting outfit in the world!
    </p>
    <p>
      It would have been madness for the American commander to divide his
      outclassed forces; and yet, if he did not divide them, von Kluck&rsquo;s army
      would sweep over New England without resistance. In this cruel dilemma,
      General Wood decided&mdash;with the approval of the President&mdash;to
      make a stand against von Hindenburg and save Philadelphia, Baltimore and
      Washington, if he could, and to leave New England to its fate.
    </p>
    <p>
      At this critical moment I was instructed by my paper to accompany a
      raiding expedition sent by General von Hindenburg into northern New
      Jersey, with the object of capturing the Picatinny arsenal near Dover; and
      this occupied me for several days, during which General von Kluck&rsquo;s army,
      unresisted, had marched into Connecticut up to a line reaching from beyond
      Bridgeport to Danbury to Washington, and had occupied New Rochelle,
      Greenwich, Stamford, South Norwalk, and Bridgeport. The Germans advanced
      about fifteen miles a day, living off the country, and carefully repairing
      any injuries to the railways, so that men and supplies from their Long
      Island base could quickly follow them.
    </p>
    <p>
      On June 10, when I rejoined General von Kluck&rsquo;s staff (to which I had been
      assigned), I found that he was accompanied by the Crown Prince and the
      venerable Count Zeppelin, both of whom seemed more interested in this New
      England occupation than in the activities of von Hindenburg&rsquo;s army. They
      realised, it appears, the great importance of controlling the industrial
      resources, the factories and machine-shops of Connecticut and
      Massachusetts. It was this interest, I may add, that led to the first
      bloodshed on Connecticut soil.
    </p>
    <p>
      Thus far not a shot had been fired by the invaders, who had been received
      everywhere by sullen but submissive crowds. Only a small part of the
      population had fled to the north and east, and the activities of occupied
      towns and cities went on very much as usual under German orders and German
      organisation. The horrible fate of Brooklyn, the wreck of the Woolworth
      and Singer buildings were known everywhere; and if New York City, the
      great metropolis, had been forced to meek surrender by the invaders, what
      hope was there for Stamford and Bridgeport and South Norwalk?
    </p>
    <p>
      {Illustration: THEN, FACING INEXORABLE NECESSITY, GENERAL WOOD ORDERED HIS
      ENGINEERS TO BLOW UP THE BRIDGES AND FLOOD THE SUBWAYS THAT LED TO
      MANHATTAN. IT WAS AS IF THE VAST STEEL STRUCTURE OF BROOKLYN BRIDGE HAD
      BEEN A THING OF LACE. IN SHREDS IT FELL, A TORN, TRAGICALLY WRECKED PIECE
      OF MAGNIFICENCE.}
    </p>
    <p>
      But in Hartford a different spirit was stirring. By their admirable spy
      service, their motorcycle service, and their aeroplane service, the German
      staff were informed of defiant Hartford crowds gathering in Bushnell Park;
      of the Putnam Phalanx parading in continental uniforms, and of the
      Governor&rsquo;s First Company Foot Guards marching past the monument where the
      Charter Oak had stood facing the South Congregational Church; and of
      patriotic speeches from beside the statue of Nathan Hale on Main Street.
    </p>
    <p>
      Also in New Haven, city of elms and of Yale College, the Second Company of
      Governor&rsquo;s Foot Guards and the valiant New Haven Grays, followed by
      cheering crowds, had marched down Chapel and Meadow streets to the Second
      Regiment Armory, home of joyous Junior promenades; and here vehement
      orators had recalled how their ancestors, the minute-men of 1776, had
      repelled the British there to the west of the city, where Columbus and
      Congress and Davenport avenues meet at the Defenders&rsquo; Monument. Why should
      not this bravery and devotion be repeated now in 1921 against the Germans?
      Why not?
    </p>
    <p>
      The answer was spoken clearly in a widely published appeal to the people
      of New England, made by the Governor of Connecticut and supported by
      Simeon E. Baldwin, ex-Governor of the State, and Arthur T. Hadley,
      president of Yale, in which the utter folly and hopelessness of resistance
      without army or militia was convincingly set forth. Professor Taft
      declared it the duty of every loyal citizen to avoid nameless horrors of
      bloodshed and destruction of property by refraining from any opposition to
      an overwhelmingly superior force.
    </p>
    <p>
      We entered New Haven on June 12, and for forty-eight hours there was no
      disorder. German siege guns were placed on the sheer precipice of East
      Rock, ranged alongside the grey shaft of the Soldiers&rsquo; Monument,
      dominating the city; machine-guns were set up at the four corners of the
      Green, at points surrounding the college buildings, and at other strategic
      points. Students were not allowed to leave the college grounds without
      military permission.
    </p>
    <p>
      To further insure the good behaviour of the city, twenty hostages were
      taken, including ex-President William H. Taft, President Arthur T. Hadley
      of Yale University, Thomas G. Bennett, ex-president of the Winchester
      Repeating Arms Company, Major Frank J. Rice, ex-Governor Simeon E.
      Baldwin, Edward Malley, General E. E. Bradley, Walter Camp, and three
      members of the graduating class of Yale University, including the captains
      of the baseball and football teams. These were held as prisoners within
      the grey granite walls and towers of Edgerton, the residence of Frederick
      F. Brewster. As staff headquarters, General von Kluck and the Crown Prince
      occupied the palatial white marble home of Louis Stoddard, the famous
      polo-player.
    </p>
    <p>
      The trouble began on June 14, when the invaders tried to set going the
      manufacturing activities of New Haven, shut down during the past week&mdash;especially
      he Winchester Repeating Arms Company, mploying about eleven thousand men,
      and the Sargent Hardware Manufacturing Company, employing eight thousand.
      Large numbers of these employees had fled from New Haven in spite of
      offers of increased wages, so that the Germans had been obliged to bring
      on men from New York to fill their places. This led to rioting and scenes
      of violence, with a certain amount of looting, in various parts of the
      city; and toward evening German troops fired upon the crowds, killing and
      wounding about two hundred.
    </p>
    <p>
      In punishment of this insubordination, General von Kluck ordered the guns
      on East Rock to destroy the Hotel Taft and the new Post Office Building,
      and this was done as the sun was setting. He also ordered that two of the
      hostages, chosen by lot, should be led out before Vanderbilt Hall, at the
      corner of College and Chapel streets, the next day at noon, and shot.
    </p>
    <p>
      However, this grim fate was averted through the intercession of an
      American woman, a white-haired lady whose husband, a Northern general, had
      fought with Count Zeppelin in the American Civil War, and who at midnight
      went to the Whitney mansion, where the Count and his staff were quartered,
      and begged on her knees for mercy. And, for the sake of old times and old
      friendship, Count Zeppelin had this penalty remitted.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER VIII. &mdash; I HAVE A FRIENDLY TALK WITH THE GERMAN CROWN PRINCE
      AND SECURE A SENSATIONAL INTERVIEW
    </h2>
    <p>
      After the pacification of New Haven and the re-establishment of its
      industries, our division of the German army, numbering about five thousand
      men, swung to the north, through Wallingford, Meriden, and Middletown, and
      marched toward the capital of the State.
    </p>
    <p>
      I shall always remember the morning of June 17, 1921, when, at the request
      of the Crown Prince, I rode at his side for an hour before we entered
      Hartford. I was amazed at the extent of the Prince&rsquo;s information and at
      his keen desire for new knowledge. He asked about the number of men
      employed in the Hartford rubber works, in Colt&rsquo;s armory, in the Pratt
      &amp; Whitney machine-shops, and spoke of plans for increasing the
      efficiency of these concerns. He knew all about the high educational
      standards of the Hartford High School. He had heard of the Hotel Heublein,
      and of the steel tower built by its proprietor on the highest point of
      Talcott Mountain&mdash;had already arranged to have this tower used for
      wireless communication between Hartford and the German fleet. He knew
      exactly how many Germans, Italians, and Swedes there were in Hartford,
      exactly how many spans there were in the new three-million-dollar bridge
      across the Connecticut. He looked forward with pleasure to occupying as
      his Hartford headquarters the former home on Farmington Avenue of Mark
      Twain, whose works he had enjoyed for years.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You know Mark Twain was a great friend of my father&rsquo;s,&rdquo; said the Crown
      Prince. &ldquo;I remember how my father laughed, one evening at the palace in
      Berlin, when Mark Twain told us the story of &lsquo;The Jumping Frog of
      Calaveras County.&rsquo; It&rsquo;s rather a pity that afterward Mark&mdash;but never
      mind that.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Your Imperial Highness has a wonderful memory for details,&rdquo; I remarked.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;That is nothing,&rdquo; he smiled. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s our business to know these things;
      that is why we are here. We must know more about New England than the New
      Englanders themselves. For example, ask me something.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Does your Imperial Highness&mdash;&rdquo; I began. But he stopped me with a
      jolly laugh. I can still see the eager, boyish face under its flashing
      helmet, and the slim, erect figure in its blue-and-silver uniform.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Never mind the Imperial Highness,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Just ask some questions&mdash;any
      question about Hartford.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The insurance companies?&rdquo; I suggested.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ah! Of course I know that. We considered the insurance companies in
      fixing the indemnity. Hartford is the richest city in America in
      proportion to her population. Let&rsquo;s see. Of her life insurance companies,
      the Aetna has assets of about a hundred and twenty million dollars; the
      Travellers&rsquo; about a hundred million; the Connecticut Mutual about seventy
      million; the Phoenix Mutual about forty million&mdash;besides half a dozen
      small-fry fire insurance companies. We&rsquo;re letting them off easily with
      twenty million dollars indemnity. Don&rsquo;t you think so, Mr. Langston?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      This informal talk continued for some time, and I found the Prince
      possessed of equally accurate and detailed information regarding other New
      England cities. It was positively uncanny. He inquired about the Bancroft
      Japanese collection in Worcester, Massachusetts, and wanted to know the
      number of women students at Wellesley College. He asked if I had seen the
      portrait by Sir Joshua Reynolds at the Athenaeum in Providence. He had
      full details about the United States Armory at Springfield, and he asked
      many questions about the Yale-Harvard boat races at New London, most of
      which I was, fortunately, able to answer.
    </p>
    <p>
      Frederick William was curious to know what had given Newport its great
      popularity as a summer resort, and asked me to compare the famous cottages
      of the Vanderbilts, the Belmonts, the Astors, along the cliffs, with
      well-known country houses in England. He knew that Siasconset on Nantucket
      Island was pronounced &ldquo;Sconset,&rdquo; and he had read reports on marine biology
      from Woods Hole. He even knew the number of watches made at Waltham every
      year, and the number of shoes made at Lynn.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was emboldened by the Crown Prince&rsquo;s good humour and friendly manner to
      ask the favour of an interview for publication in the London <i>Times</i>,
      and, to my great satisfaction, this was granted the next day when we were
      settled in our Hartford quarters, with the result that I gained high
      commendation; in fact my interview not only made a sensation in England,
      but was cabled back to the United States and reprinted all over America.
      Needless to say, it caused bitter resentment in both countries against
      Frederick William.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The responsibility for the present war between Germany and the United
      States must be borne by England,&rdquo; he said in this memorable utterance. &ldquo;It
      was the spirit of hatred against Germany spread through the world by
      England and especially spread through America that made the United States
      unwilling to deal with the Imperial government in a fair and friendly way,
      touching our trade and colonising aspirations in South America and Mexico.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We Germans regard this as a most astonishing and deplorable thing, that
      the American people have been turned against us by British
      misrepresentations. Why should the United States trust England? What has
      England ever done for the United States? Who furnished the South with arms
      and ammunition and with blockade runners during the Civil War? England!
      Who placed outrageous restrictions upon American commerce during the great
      European war and, in direct violation of International law, prohibited
      America from sending foodstuffs and cotton to Germany? England!
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What harm has Germany ever done to the United States? Turn over the pages
      of history. Remember brave General Steuben, a veteran of Frederick the
      Great, drilling with Washington&rsquo;s soldiers at Valley Forge. Remember the
      German General De Kalb who fell pierced by red-coat balls and bayonets at
      the battle of Camden. Remember General Herckheimer with his band of German
      farmers who fought and died for American independence at the battle of
      Oriskany.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Then go to Greenwood cemetery and look at the graves of German soldiers,
      rows and rows of them, who gave their lives loyally for the Union at
      Antietam, at Bull Run and at Gettysburg.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The United States is a great nation with vast resources,&rdquo; he went on,
      &ldquo;but these have been largely wasted, owing to the inefficiency and
      corruption inevitable in all democracies.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Your Imperial Highness does not think much of American efficiency?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The prince threw back his head with a snort of contemptuous amusement.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ha! What can one expect from a government like yours? A government of
      incompetents, politicians, office seekers.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I beg your pardon,&rdquo; I protested.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I do not mean to offend you,&rdquo; he laughed, &ldquo;but hasn&rsquo;t the whole world
      known for years that America was utterly defenceless? Haven&rsquo;t you
      Americans known it since 1914? Haven&rsquo;t you read it in all your newspapers?
      Hasn&rsquo;t it been shouted at you from the housetops by all your leading men?
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;And yet your senators, your congressmen, your presidents and their
      cabinet officers did nothing about it, or very little. Is that what you
      call efficiency? America remained lacking in all that makes for military
      preparedness, did she not? And she tried to be a world power and defend
      the Monroe doctrine! She told Germany in 1915 what Germany might do with
      her submarines and what she might not do. Ha! We were at a disadvantage
      then, but we remembered! You, with your third-rate navy and your
      tenth-rate army, told us what we might do! Well, you see where your
      efficiency has brought you.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I sat silent until this storm should pass, and was just making bold to
      speak when the prince continued:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Do you know where America made her great mistake? Oh, what a chance you
      had and missed it! Why did you not declare war on Germany after our
      invasion of Belgium? Or after the sinking of the <i>Lusitania?</i> Or
      after the sinking of the <i>Arabic?</i> You had your justification and,
      with your money and resources, you could have changed the course of the
      great war. That is what we feared in Berlin. We were powerless to hurt you
      then and we knew you would have time to get ready. Yes, if America had
      gone into the war in 1915, she would be the greatest power on earth to-day
      instead of being a conquered province.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      These words hurt.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;America is a long way from being a conquered province,&rdquo; I retorted.
    </p>
    <p>
      He shook his head good-naturedly, whereupon I resolved to control my
      temper. It would be folly to offend the prince and thus lose my chance to
      secure an interview of international importance, which this proved to be.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We hold New York already,&rdquo; he continued. &ldquo;Within three weeks we shall
      hold New England. Within three months we shall hold your entire Atlantic
      seaboard.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We may win back our lost territory,&rdquo; said I.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Never. We are conquerors. We will stay here exactly as the Manchu
      conquerors stayed in China. Exactly as the Seljuk conquerors stayed in
      Asia Minor. Your military strength is broken. Your fleet will be destroyed
      when it reaches the Caribbean. How can you drive us out?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Our population is over a hundred million.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;China&rsquo;s population is over three hundred million and a handful of
      Japanese rule her. Remember, America is not like Russia with her heart
      deep inland. The military heart of America lies within a radius of 180
      miles from New York City and we hold it, or soon will. In that small
      strip, reaching from Boston to Delaware Bay, are situated nine-tenths of
      the war munition factories of the United States, the Springfield Armory,
      the Watervliet Arsenal, the Picatinny Arsenal, the Frankfort Arsenal, the
      Dupont powder works, the Bethlehem steel works, and all these will shortly
      be in our hands. How can you take them from us? How can you get along
      without them?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We can build other munition factories in the West.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;That will take a year or more, in which time we shall have fortified the
      whole Appalachian Mountain system from Florida to the St. Lawrence, so
      that no army can ever break through. Do you see?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The prince paused with a masterful smile and played with a large signet
      ring on his third finger.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Surely Your Imperial Highness does not think that Germany can conquer the
      whole of America?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Of course not, at least not for many years. We are content with your
      Atlantic seaboard, the garden spot of the earth in climate and resources.
      We shall hold this region and develop it along broad lines of German
      efficiency and German <i>kultur.</i> What wonderful improvements we will
      make! How we will use the opportunities you have wasted!
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ha! Let me give you one instance among many of your incredible
      inefficiency. Those disappearing carriages of your coast defence guns! I
      suppose they were the pet hobby of some politician with an interest in
      their manufacture, but Gott in Himmel! what foolishness! The guns
      themselves are good enough, but the carriages allow them an elevation of
      only ten percent against a thirty percent elevation that is possible for
      guns of equal calibre on our battleships, which means that our twelve-inch
      guns outrange yours by a couple of miles simply because we can fire them
      at a higher angle.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You mean that one of your super-dreadnoughts&mdash;&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Exactly. One of our super-dreadnoughts can lie off Rockaway Beach and
      drop shells from her twelve-inch guns into Union Square, and the
      twelve-inch guns of your harbour forts, handicapped by their stupid
      carriages, could never touch her.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The conversation now turned to other subjects and presently the prince was
      led by enthusiasm or arrogance to make a series of statements that gave
      extraordinary importance to my interview, since they enraged the whole
      Anglo-Saxon world, particularly our Western and Middle Western states.
      Fortunately I submitted my manuscript to Frederick William before cabling
      the interview to London, so there was no danger of his repudiating my
      words.
    </p>
    <p>
      With brutal frankness this future ruler of a nation maintained that
      against German arms America must now go down to defeat just as England
      went down to partial defeat in 1917 and for the same unchangeable reason
      that the fittest among nations inevitably survive.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ask your readers in the London Times, Mr. Langston, why it was that in
      the fall of 1915 Germany had been able to put into the field nine million
      fully equipped, highly efficient soldiers, whereas England, with nearly
      the same population, counting her white colonies, had been able to send
      out only two and a half million, a third of these being physically
      defective? Why was that?
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Was it lack of guns and ammunition? Lack of officers and training? Partly
      so, but something else was lacking, I mean patriotism among the English
      masses that would give them the desire to fight for England, also a high
      standard of physical excellence that would make them able to fight
      effectively and to endure the hardships of the trenches.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Now why should there be more patriotism in Germany than in England? Why
      should the masses of Germany excel the masses of England in physical
      vigour?
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I will tell you why, and the answer applies in some degree to America; it
      is because the German system of government is better calculated to create
      patriotism and physical vigour, just as it is better calculated to create
      an efficient war machine. In Germany we have concentration of power, a
      benevolent paternalism that knows the needs of the people and supplies
      them whether the people wish it or not. For example, in Germany we have to
      a great extent abolished poverty and such degrading slum conditions as
      prevail in English and American cities. We know that slums lead to drink,
      vice and physical unfitness. We know that we must kill the slums or see
      the slums kill efficiency and kill patriotism.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;In Germany we hold the capitalist class within strict bounds. We allow no
      such heaping up of huge fortunes as are common in America through the
      exploitation of the weak by the strong. We Germans protect the weak and
      make them stronger, but you English and Americans make them weaker by
      oppressing them. You make slaves of children in a thousand factories,
      crushing out their strength and their hope, so that a few more of you can
      become millionaires. Do you think those children, grown to manhood, will
      fight for you very loyally or very effectively when you call on them to
      rally to the flag? What does such a flag mean to them?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What does the American flag mean to thousands of American steel workers
      forced to toil at the furnaces twelve hours a day for two dollars? Twelve
      hours a day and often seven days a week lest they starve! Why should these
      men fight for a flag that has waved, unashamed, over their misery and over
      the unearned and undeserved fortunes of their task masters, Andrew
      Carnegie and J. P. Morgan? Why should the down-trodden miners in Colorado
      fight to perpetuate a John D. Rockefeller system of government?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What does Your Imperial Highness mean by a John D. Rockefeller system of
      government?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I mean the English and American system of individualism gone mad&mdash;every
      man for himself and the devil take the hindermost. The result is a
      trampling on the many by the few, a totally unfair division of the
      products of toil and such wicked extremes of poverty and riches as are
      familiar in London and New York but are unknown in Germany.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;In Germany the masses are well housed and well nourished. In all our
      cities cheap and wholesome pleasures abound, music, beer gardens, great
      parks with playgrounds and dancing pavilions. It is literally true that
      work at fair wages with reasonable hours is provided for every German
      citizen who is able to work. And those unable to work are taken care of,&mdash;pensions
      for the aged, homes for the disabled, state assistance for poor mothers.
      There are no paupers, no factory slaves in Germany. The central government
      sees to this, not only as a matter of humanity, but as good policy. We
      know that every German citizen will fight for the German flag because he
      is proud of it and has personal reason to be grateful to it, since it
      represents fair play, large opportunity, a satisfactory life for him and
      his children.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The prince maintained that here were new elements in the problem of
      Germany&rsquo;s conquest of America. Not only were the invaders more valiant
      warriors possessed of a better fighting machine, but they came with a
      moral and spiritual superiority that must make strong appeal to Americans
      themselves.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;After yielding to us by force of arms,&rdquo; he went on, &ldquo;your people will
      come to welcome us when they see how much better off, how much happier
      they will be under our higher civilisation. Mr. Langston, we understand
      your nation better than it understands itself. I assure you, Americans are
      sick of their selfish materialism, they are ashamed of the degrading money
      worship that has stifled their national spirit.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Here I challenged him angrily.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Do you mean to say that we have no national spirit in America?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Not as Germans understand it. You live for material things, for
      pleasures, for business. You are a race of money schemers, money
      grovellers, lacking in high ideals and genuine spiritual life without
      which patriotism is an empty word. Who ever heard of an American working
      for his country unless he was paid for it?
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Think what America did in the great war! Why was your president so
      wrought up in 1915 when he assailed Germany with fine phrases? Was it
      because we had violated Belgium? No! When that happened he had nothing to
      say, although the United States, equally with England, was a signatory of
      the Hague Conference that guaranteed Belgium&rsquo;s integrity. Why did not your
      president protest then? Why did he not use his fine phrases then? Because
      the United States had suffered no material injury through Belgium&rsquo;s
      misfortune. On the contrary, the United States was sure to gain much of
      the trade that Belgium lost. And that was what he cared about, commercial
      advantage. You were quick enough to protect your trade and your money
      interests. You were ready enough to do anything for gold, ready enough, by
      the sale of war munitions, to bring death and misery upon half of Europe
      so long as you got gold from the other half. High ideals! National spirit!
      There they are!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER IX. &mdash; BOSTON OFFERS DESPERATE AND BLOODY RESISTANCE TO THE
      INVADERS
    </h2>
    <p>
      Our wing of the advancing German army remained in Hartford for four days,
      at the end of which all signs of disorder had ceased; in fact, there was
      little disorder at any time. The lesson of New Haven&rsquo;s resistance had been
      taken to heart, and there was the discouraging knowledge that a row of
      German six-inch siege-guns were trained on the city from the heights of
      Elizabeth Park, their black muzzles commanding the grey towers and golden
      dome of State House, the J. Pierpont Morgan Memorial, the gleaming white
      new City Hall, the belching chimneys of the Underwood typewriter works,
      and the brown pile of Trinity College.
    </p>
    <p>
      There was the further restraining fact that leading citizens of Hartford
      were held as hostages, their lives in peril, in James J. Goodwin&rsquo;s
      palatial home, among these being ex-Governor Morgan G. Buckley, Mayor
      Joseph H. Lawler, Bishop Chauncey B. Brewster, Dr. Flavel S. Luther,
      Bishop John J. Nilan, Mrs. Richard M. Bissell, Mrs. Thomas N. Hepburn, the
      Rev. Rockwell Harmon Potter, Charles Hopkins Clark, Rolland F. Andrews,
      the Rev. Francis Goodwin, Thomas J. Spellacy, and Sol Sontheimer.
    </p>
    <p>
      So the invaders&rsquo; march through New England continued. It is a pitiful
      story. What could Connecticut and Massachusetts do? With all their wealth
      and intelligence, with all their mechanical ingenuity, with all their
      pride and patriotism, what could they do, totally unprepared, more
      helpless than Belgium, against the most efficient army in Europe?
    </p>
    <p>
      Three times, between Hartford and Springfield, unorganised bands of
      Americans, armed with shotguns and rifles, lay in ambush for the advancing
      enemy and fired upon them. These men declared that they would die before
      they would stand by tamely and see the homes and fields of New England
      despoiled by the invader. Whereupon the Germans announced, by means of
      proclamations showered upon towns and villages from their advance-guard of
      aeroplanes, that for every German soldier thus killed by Americans in
      ambush a neighbouring town or village would be burned by fire bombs
      dropped from the sky. And they carried out this threat to the letter, so
      that for every act of resistance by the fathers and brothers and sons of
      New England there resulted only greater suffering and distress for the
      women and the children.
    </p>
    <p>
      The average man, especially one with a wife and children, is easily cowed
      when he has no hope; and presently all resistance ceased. What feeble
      opposition there was in the first week dwindled to almost nothing in the
      second week and to less than nothing in the third week. Stamford paid two
      million dollars in gold, Bridgeport five million, New Haven five million,
      Hartford twenty million, Fall River three million, Springfield five
      million, Worcester two million, Providence ten million, Newport fifty
      million. The smaller cities got off with half a million each, and some of
      the towns paid as little as one hundred thousand dollars. But every
      community paid something, and the total amount taken from New England,
      including a hundred million from New Hampshire, a hundred million from
      Vermont, and a hundred million from Maine, was eight hundred million
      dollars, about a third of which was in gold.
    </p>
    <p>
      With a battle-front fifty or seventy-five miles long, von Kluck&rsquo;s forces
      strolled across this fertile and populous region, living off the land,
      leaving small holding forces with artillery at every important point, a
      few hundred or a few thousand, while the main army swept relentlessly and
      resistlessly on. It was a delightful four weeks&rsquo; picnic for von Kluck and
      his men; and at the end of four weeks everything in New England had fallen
      before them up to the city of Boston, which had been left for the last. <i>And
      the total German losses in killed and wounded were less than twenty!</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      On July 2, General von Kluck&rsquo;s army, sweeping forward unopposed, reached
      the western and southwestern suburbs of Boston, passing through Newton and
      Brookline, and making a detour to avoid ruining the beautiful golf links
      where Ouimet won his famous victory over Ray and Vardon. This
      sportsmanlike consideration was due to the fact that several of the German
      officers and the Crown Prince himself were enthusiastic golfers.
    </p>
    <p>
      Meantime there was panic in the city. For days huge crowds had swarmed
      through Boston&rsquo;s great railway stations, fleeing to Maine and Canada; and
      across the Charles River bridge there had passed an endless stream of
      automobiles bearing away rich families with their jewels and their silver.
      Among them were automobile trucks from the banks, laden with tons of gold.
      No boats left the harbour through fear of a grim German battleship that
      lay outside, plainly visible from the millionaire homes of Nahant and
      Manchester.
    </p>
    <p>
      Even now there was talk of resistance, and German Taubes looked down upon
      a mass meeting of ten thousand frantic citizens gathered in Mechanics Hall
      on Huntington Avenue; but prudent counsels prevailed. How could Boston
      resist without soldiers or ammunition or field artillery? Brooklyn had
      resisted, and now lay in ruins. New Haven had tried to resist, and what
      had come of it?
    </p>
    <p>
      At three o&rsquo;clock on this day of sorrow, with banners flying and bands
      playing, the German forces&mdash;horse, foot, and artillery&mdash;entered
      the Massachusetts capital in two great columns, the one marching down
      Beacon Street, past the homes of Oliver Wendell Holmes and Julia Ward
      Howe, the other advancing along Commonwealth Avenue, past the
      white-columned Harvard Club, past the statues of Alexander Hamilton and
      William Lloyd Garrison, on under the shade of four rows of elms that give
      this noble thoroughfare a resemblance to the Avenue de la Grande Armée in
      Paris.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was a perfect summer&rsquo;s day. The sun flashed from the golden dome of the
      State House on the hill over Boston Common, and from the great white
      Custom House tower that rose impressively in the distance above the green
      of the Public Gardens. Boston looked on, dumb with shame and stifled rage,
      as the invaders took possession of the city and ran up their flags, red,
      white, and black, above the Old South Meeting House on Washington Street,
      where Benjamin Franklin was baptised, and above the sacred, now
      dishonoured, shaft of the Bunker Hill Monument.
    </p>
    <p>
      Hostages were taken, as usual, these including Major Henry L. Higginson,
      President A. Lawrence Lowell of Harvard University, Major James M. Curley,
      Edward A. Filene, Margaret Deland, William A. Paine, Ellery Sedgwick, Mrs.
      John L. Gardner, Charles W. Eliot, Louis D. Brandeis, Bishop William
      Lawrence, Amy Lowell, T. Jefferson Coolidge, Thomas W. Lawson, Guy
      Murchie, and Cardinal O&rsquo;Connell.
    </p>
    <p>
      A proclamation was made in the <i>Transcript</i> (now forced to be the
      official German organ and the only newspaper that was allowed to appear in
      Boston) that these prominent persons would be held personally responsible
      for any public disorder or for any failure of the city to furnish the army
      of occupation with all necessary food and supplies.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the night of occupation there were scenes of violence, with rioting and
      looting in various parts of Boston, notably in Washington Street and
      Tremont Street, where shops were wrecked by mobs from the South End,
      several thousand of the unruly foreign element, crazed with drink and
      carrying knives. Against this drunken rabble the American police, sullen
      and disorganised, could do nothing or would do nothing; and the situation
      was becoming desperate, when German troops advanced along Washington
      Street, firing into the crowd and driving back the looters, who surged
      through Winter Street, a frantic, terrified mass, and scattered over
      Boston Common.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here, in front of the Park Street Church, another huge mob of citizens had
      gathered&mdash;five thousand wildly patriotic Irishmen. Armed with clubs,
      rifles, and pistols, and madly waving the Stars and Stripes, they cursed,
      cheered, and yelled out insults to the Germans. Suddenly a company of
      German soldiers with machine-guns appeared on the high ground in front of
      the State House. Three times a Prussian officer, standing near the St.
      Gaudens Shaw Memorial, shouted orders to the crowd to disperse; but the
      Irishmen only jeered at him.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They want it; let them have it,&rdquo; said the Prussian. &ldquo;Fire!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      And three hundred fell before the blast of rifles and machine-guns.
    </p>
    <p>
      At which the mob of Irish patriots went entirely mad, and, with yells of
      hatred and defiance, swarmed straight up the hill at the battery that was
      slaughtering them, shouting: &ldquo;To hell with &lsquo;em!&rdquo; &ldquo;Come on, boys!&rdquo; charging
      so fiercely and valiantly, that the Germans were swept from their
      position, and for a short time a victorious American mob held the
      approaches to the State House.
    </p>
    <p>
      Alas, it was for only a short time! The enemy quickly brought forward
      reinforcements in overwhelming strength, and an hour later there were only
      dead, wounded and prisoners to tell of this loyal but hopeless effort.
    </p>
    <p>
      In other parts of the city during this night of terror there were similar
      scenes of bloodshed, the Germans inflicting terrible punishment upon the
      people, innocent and guilty suffering alike for every act of disobedience
      or resistance. There were a few cases of sniping from houses; and for
      these a score of men, seized indiscriminately in the crowds, were hanged
      from windows of the offending or suspected buildings. As a further lesson
      to the city, two of the hostages, chosen by lot, were led out into the
      Public Gardens the next morning at sunrise and shot near the statue of
      Edward Everett Hale.
    </p>
    <p>
      Machine-guns were now placed on the high ground before the Soldiers&rsquo; 
      Monument and at other strategic points, and ten thousand soldiers were
      encamped on Boston Common, the main part of the army being withdrawn,
      after this overwhelming show of force, to Franklin Park on the outskirts,
      where heavy siege-guns were set up.
    </p>
    <p>
      The <i>Transcript</i> appeared that day with a black-lettered
      proclamation, signed by General von Kluck, to the effect that at the next
      disorder five hostages would be shot, and six beautiful buildings&mdash;the
      State House, the Custom House, the Boston Public Library, the Opera House,
      the Boston Art Museum, and the main building of the Massachusetts School
      of Technology&mdash;would be wrecked by shells. This reduced the city to
      absolute submission.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mrs. John L. Gardner&rsquo;s fine Italian palace in the Fenway, with its wealth
      of art treasures, was turned into a staff headquarters and occupied by the
      Crown Prince, General von Kluck, and Count Zeppelin. The main body of
      officers established themselves in the best hotels and clubs, the Copley
      Plaza, the Touraine, the Parker House, the Somerset, the St. Botolph, the
      City Club, the Algonquin, the Harvard Club, paying liberally for the
      finest suites and the best food by the simple method of signing checks to
      be redeemed later by the city of Boston.
    </p>
    <p>
      Non-commissioned officers made themselves comfortable in smaller hotels
      and in private houses and boarding-houses to which they were assigned. A
      popular eating-place was Thompson&rsquo;s Spa, where a crush of brass-buttoned
      German soldiers lunched every day, perched on high stools along the
      counters, and trying to ogle the pretty waitresses, who did not hide their
      aversion.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is worthy of note that the Tavern Club was burned by its own members to
      save from desecration a spot hallowed by memories of Oliver Wendell
      Holmes, James Russell Lowell, Charles Eliot Norton, and George William
      Curtis.
    </p>
    <p>
      I must mention another instance of the old-time indomitable New England
      spirit that came to my knowledge during these sad days. The Germans levied
      upon the city of Boston an indemnity of three hundred million dollars,
      this to be paid at the rate of three million dollars a day; and on the
      morning of July 4, two of von Kluck&rsquo;s staff officers, accompanied by a
      military escort, marched down State Street into the now deserted region of
      banks and vaults and trust companies, to arrange for the regular payment
      of this sum. Entering the silent halls of a great banking house, they came
      to a rear office with the door locked. A summons to open being unanswered,
      they broke down this door; whereupon a shot, fired from within, killed the
      first soldier who crossed the threshold. A German volley followed, and,
      when the smoke cleared away, there sat a prominent Boston financier, his
      father&rsquo;s Civil War musket clutched in his hands and the look of a hero in
      his dying eyes. All alone, this uncompromising figure of a man had waited
      there in his private office ready to defy the whole German army and die
      for his rights and his convictions.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER X. &mdash; LORD KITCHENER VISITS AMERICA AND DISCUSSES OUR
      MILITARY PROBLEMS
    </h2>
    <p>
      I was standing with Count Zeppelin in the doorway of Mrs. John L.
      Gardner&rsquo;s Fenway palace when the news of the great sea horror reached
      Boston. The German submarine U-68, scouting off the coast of Maine, had
      sunk the American liner <i>Manhattan</i>, the largest passenger vessel in
      the world, as she raced toward Bar Harbor with her shipload of
      non-combatants. Eighteen hundred and sixty-three men, women, and children
      went down with the ship. No warning had been given. No chance had been
      offered for women or children or neutral passengers to escape. The
      disaster duplicated the wrecking of the <i>Lusitania</i> in 1915, but it
      exceeded it in loss of human life. The American captain and all his men
      shared the fate of the passengers intrusted to their care.
    </p>
    <p>
      In Boston the effect on the German officers and men was unbelievable.
      Tremont and Boylston and Washington streets, echoing with cheers of the
      exulting conquerors, resembled the night of a Harvard-Yale football game
      when Brickley used to play for Cambridge University. The citizens of the
      big town, their senses deadened by their own disaster, received the news,
      and the ghastly celebration that followed it, without any real interest.
      The fact that an ex-Mayor of Boston and the son of the present Governor
      were among those that perished failed to rouse them. Boston, mentally as
      well as physically, was in the grip of the enemy.
    </p>
    <p>
      That this was just the effect the Germans planned to produce is shown by
      General von Kluck&rsquo;s own words. In an interview that he gave me for the
      London <i>Times</i>, after the occupation of Boston on July 2, 1921,
      General von Kluck said:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The way to end a war quickly is to make the burden of it oppressive upon
      the people. It was on this principle that General Sherman acted in his
      march from Atlanta to the sea. It was on this principle that General Grant
      acted in his march from Washington to Richmond. Grant said he would fight
      it out on those lines if it took all summer&mdash;meaning lines of
      relentless oppression. In modern war a weak enemy like Belgium or like New
      England, which is far weaker than Belgium was in 1914, must be crushed
      immediately. Think of the bloodshed that would have stained the soil of
      Connecticut and Massachusetts if we had not spread terror before us. As it
      is, New England has suffered very little from the German occupation, and
      in a very short time everything will be going on as usual.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The veteran warrior paused, and added with a laugh: &ldquo;Better than usual.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      As a matter of fact, within a week Boston had resumed its ordinary life
      and activities. Business was good, factories were busy, and the theatres
      were crowded nightly, especially Keith&rsquo;s, where the latest military
      photo-play by Thomas Dixon and Charles T. Dazey&mdash;with Mary Pickford
      as the heroine and Charley Chaplin as the comedy relief&mdash;was enjoyed
      immensely by German officers.
    </p>
    <p>
      As to the commerce of Boston Harbor, it was speedily re-established, with
      ships of all nations going and coming, undisturbed by the fact that it was
      now the German flag on German warships that they saluted.
    </p>
    <p>
      I received instructions from my paper about this time to leave New England
      and join General Wood&rsquo;s forces, which had crossed the Delaware into
      Pennsylvania, where they were battling desperately with von Hindenburg&rsquo;s
      much stronger army. On the day following my arrival at the American
      headquarters, I learned that Lord Kitchener had come over from England to
      follow the fighting as an eye-witness; and I was fortunate enough to
      obtain an interview with his lordship, who remembered me in connection
      with his Egyptian campaigns.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The United States is where England would have been in 1914 without her
      fleet,&rdquo; said Lord Kitchener.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Where is that?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;If England had been invaded by a German army in 1914,&rdquo; replied the great
      organiser gravely, &ldquo;she would have been wiped off the map. It was
      England&rsquo;s fleet that saved her. And, even so, we had a hard time of it.
      Everything was lacking&mdash;officers, men, uniforms, ammunition, guns,
      horses, saddles, horse blankets, everything except our fleet.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      A sudden light burned in Lord Kitchener&rsquo;s strange eyes, and he added
      earnestly: &ldquo;There is something more than that. In 1914 Germany was
      wonderfully prepared in material things, but her greatest advantage over
      all other nations, except Japan, lay in her dogged devotion to her own
      ideals. She may have been wrong, as we think, but she believed in herself.
      There was nothing like it in England, and there is nothing like it in
      America. The German masses, to the last man, woman, and child, were
      inspired to give all that they had, their lives included, for the Empire.
      In England there was more selfishness and self-indulgence. We had labour
      troubles, strike troubles, drink troubles; and finally, as you know, in
      1916 we were forced to adopt conscription. It will be the same story here
      in America.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you think that America will ultimately win?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Lord Kitchener hesitated.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. Germany holds New York and Boston and is marching on
      Philadelphia. Think what that means! New York is the business capital of
      the nation. It is hard to conceive of the United States without New York.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The Americans will get New York back, won&rsquo;t they?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;How? When? It is true you have a population of eighty millions west of
      the Allegheny Mountains, and somehow, some day, their American spirit and
      their American genius ought to conquer; but it&rsquo;s going to be a job.
      Patriotism is not enough. Money is not enough. Potential resources are not
      enough. It is a question of doing the essential thing before it is too
      late. We found that out in England in 1916. If America could have used her
      potential resources when the Germans landed on Long Island, she would have
      driven her enemies into the sea within a week; but the thing was not
      possible. You might as well expect a gold mine in Alaska to stop a Wall
      Street panic.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I found that Lord Kitchener had very definite ideas touching great social
      changes that must come in America following this long and exhausting war,
      assuming that we finally came out of it victorious.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;America will be a different land after this war,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;You will have
      to reckon as never before with the lowly but enlightened millions who have
      done the actual fighting. The United States of the future must be regarded
      as a vast-co-operative estate to be managed for the benefit of all who
      dwell in it, not for the benefit of a privileged few. And America may well
      follow the example of Germany, as England has since the end of the great
      war in 1919, in using the full power of state to lessen her present
      iniquitous extremes of poverty and wealth, which weaken patriotism, and in
      compelling a division of the products of toil that is really fair.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I warn you that America will escape the gravest labour trouble with the
      possibility of actual revolution only by admitting, as England has
      admitted, that from now on labour has the whip hand over capital and must
      be placated by immense concessions. You must either establish state
      control in many industries that are now privately owned and managed and
      establish state ownership in all public utilities or you must expect to
      see your whole system of government swing definitely toward a socialistic
      regime. The day of the multi-millionaire is over.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I found another distinguished Englishman at General Wood&rsquo;s headquarters,
      Lord Northcliffe, owner of the London <i>Times</i>, and I had the unusual
      experience of interviewing my own employer for his own newspaper. As
      usual, Lord Northcliffe took sharp issue with Lord Kitchener on several
      points. His hatred of the Germans was so intense that he could see no good
      in them.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The idea that Germany will be able to carry this invasion of America to a
      successful conclusion is preposterous,&rdquo; he declared. &ldquo;Prussian supermen!
      What are they? Look at their square heads with no backs to them and their
      outstanding ears! Gluttons of food! Guzzlers of drink! A race of bullies
      who treat their women like squaws and drudges and then cringe to every
      policeman and strutting officer who makes them goose-step before him.
      Bismarck called them a nation of house-servants, and knew that in racial
      aptitude they are and always will be hopelessly inferior to Anglo-Saxons.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Conquer America? They can no more do it than they could conquer England.
      They can make you suffer, yes, as they made us suffer; they can fill you
      with rage and shame to find yourselves utterly unprepared in this hour of
      peril, eaten up with commercialism and pacifism just as we were. But
      conquer this great nation with its infinite resources and its splendid
      racial inheritance&mdash;never!
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The Germans despise America just as they despised England. John Bull was
      an effete old plutocrat whose sons and daughters were given up to sport
      and amusement. The Kaiser, in his famous Aix-la-Chapelle order, referred
      scornfully to our &lsquo;contemptible little army.&rsquo; He was right, it was a
      contemptible little army, but by the end of 1917 we had five million fully
      equipped men in the field and in the summer of 1918 the Kaiser saw his
      broken armies flung back to the Rhine by these same contemptible
      Englishmen and their brave allies. There will be the same marvellous
      change here when the tortured American giant stirs from his sleep of
      indifference and selfishness. Then the Prussian superman will learn
      another lesson!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XI. &mdash; HEROIC ACT OF BARBARA WEBB SAVES AMERICAN ARMY AT THE
      BATTLE OF TRENTON
    </h2>
    <p>
      Coming now to the campaign in New Jersey, let me recall that on the
      evening of June 18, American scouting aeroplanes, under Squadron Commander
      Harry Payne Whitney, reported that a strong force of Germans, cavalry,
      infantry, and artillery, had occupied the heights above Bordentown, New
      Jersey, and were actively proceeding to build pontoons across the
      Delaware. It seemed clear that von Hindenburg was preparing to cross the
      river at the very point where Washington made his historic crossing in
      1776; and General Wood proceeded to attack the enemy&rsquo;s position with his
      artillery, being assisted by four light-draught gunboats from the
      Philadelphia navy-yard, which lay in the deepened channel at the head of
      tide-water and dropped shells inside the enemy&rsquo;s lines. The Germans
      replied vigorously, and a smart engagement at long range ensued, lasting
      until darkness fell. We fully expected that the next day would see a
      fierce battle fought here for the command of the river. No one dreamed
      that this was a trap set by von Hindenburg.
    </p>
    <p>
      As a matter of fact, the crossing movement from above Bordentown was a
      feint in which not more than 8,000 Germans were engaged, their main army
      being gathered twenty miles to the north, near Lambertville, for the real
      crossing. And only the prompt heroic action of three young Americans, two
      boys and a girl, saved our forces from immediate disaster.
    </p>
    <p>
      The heroine of this adventure was Barbara Webb, a beautiful girl of
      sixteen, who, with her brother Dominick and their widowed mother, lived in
      a lonely farm-house on Goat Hill, back of Lambertville. They had a boy
      friend, Marshall Frissell, in Brownsburg, Pennsylvania, on the other side
      of the river, and Marshall and Dominick had learned to wigwag signals, in
      boy-scout fashion, back and forth across the Delaware.
    </p>
    <p>
      It seems that, on this memorable night, the brother and sister discovered
      a great force of Germans building pontoons about a mile below the wrecked
      Lambertville bridge. Whereupon Dominick Webb, knowing that all telegraph
      and telephone wires were cut, leaped upon a horse and set out to carry the
      news to General Wood. But he was shot through the thigh by a Prussian
      sentry, and, hours later, fainting from loss of blood, he returned to the
      farm-house and told his sister that he had failed in his effort.
    </p>
    <p>
      Then Barbara, as day was breaking, climbed to the crest of Goat Hill, and
      began to signal desperately toward Brownsburg, in the hope that Marshall
      Frissell might see and understand. For an hour she waved, but all in vain.
      Marshall was asleep. Still she waved; and finally, by a miracle of faith,
      the boy was roused from his slumbers, drawn to his window as the sun
      arose, and, looking out, saw Barbara&rsquo;s familiar flag wigwagging
      frantically on the heights of Lambertville three miles away. Then he
      answered, and Barbara cried out in her joy.
    </p>
    <p>
      Just then a German rifle spoke from the riverbank below, a thousand yards
      away, where the enemy were watching, and a bullet pierced the Stars and
      Stripes as the flag fluttered over that slim girlish figure silhouetted
      against the glory of the eastern sky. Then another bullet came, and
      another. The enemy had seen Barbara&rsquo;s manoeuvre. She was betraying an
      important military secret, and she must die.
    </p>
    <p>
      Wait! With a hostile army below her, not a mile distant, this fearless
      American girl went on wigwagging her message&mdash;letter by letter,
      slowly, painstakingly, for she was imperfect in the code. As she swept the
      flag from side to side, signalling, a rain of bullets sang past her. Some
      cut her dress and some snipped her flowing hair; and finally one shattered
      the flag-staff in her hands. Whereupon, like Barbara Frietchie of old,
      this fine young Barbara caught up the banner she loved, and went on waving
      the news that might save her country, while a hundred German soldiers
      fired at her.
    </p>
    <p>
      And presently a wonderful thing happened. The power of her devotion
      touched the hearts of these rough men,&mdash;for they were brave
      themselves,&mdash;and, lowering their guns, with one accord, they cheered
      this little grey-eyed, dimpled farmer&rsquo;s girl with her hair blowing in the
      breeze, until the Jersey hills rang.
    </p>
    <p>
      And now the lad in Brownsburg rose to the situation. There were Germans on
      the opposite bank, a great host of them, making ready to cross the
      Delaware. General Wood must know this at once&mdash;he must come at once.
      They say that freckle-faced Marshall Frissell, fifteen years old, on a mad
      motorcycle, covered the twenty miles to Ft. Hill, Pa., where General Wood
      had his headquarters, in fifteen minutes, and that by seven o&rsquo;clock troop
      trains and artillery trains were moving toward the north, winding along
      the Delaware like enormous snakes, as Leonard Wood, answering the
      children&rsquo;s call, hastened to the rescue.
    </p>
    <p>
      I dwell upon these minor happenings because they came to my knowledge, and
      because the main events of the four days&rsquo; battle of Trenton are familiar
      to all. In spite of the overwhelming superiority of the Germans in men and
      artillery, the American army, spread along a twelve-mile front on the
      hills opposite Lambertville, made good use of their defensive position,
      and for three days held back the enemy from crossing the river. In fact,
      it was only on the evening of the third day, June 21, that von
      Hindenburg&rsquo;s engineers succeeded in completing their pontoon line to the
      Pennsylvania shore. Again and again the floating bridge was destroyed by a
      concentrated shell fire from American batteries on the ridge a mile and a
      half back from the river.
    </p>
    <p>
      American aeroplanes contributed effectively to this work of resistance by
      dropping explosive bombs upon the pontoons; but, unfortunately, German
      aeroplanes outnumbered the defenders at least four to one, and soon
      achieved a mastery of the sky.
    </p>
    <p>
      A brilliant air victory was gained by Jess Willard, volunteer pilot of a
      swift and powerful Burgess machine, over three Taubes, the latter
      attacking fiercely while the champion prize-fighter circled higher and
      higher, manoeuvring for a position of advantage. I shall never forget the
      thrill I felt when Willard swooped down suddenly from a height of eight
      thousand feet, and, by a dangerous turn, brought his machine directly over
      the nearest German flier, at the same time dropping a fire bomb that
      destroyed this aeroplane and hurled the wreck of it straight down upon the
      two Taubes underneath, striking one and capsizing the other with the rush
      of air. So the great Jess, by his daring strategy, hurled three of the
      enemy down to destruction, and escaped safely from the swarm of pursuers.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the fourth day, the Germans&mdash;thanks to an advantage of three to
      one in artillery pieces&mdash;succeeded in crossing the Delaware; and
      after that the issue of the battle was never in doubt, the American forces
      being outnumbered and outclassed. Two-thirds of General Wood&rsquo;s army were
      either militia, insufficiently equipped and half trained, or raw recruits.
      There were fifteen thousand of the latter who had volunteered within a
      fortnight, loyal patriots ready to die for their country, but without the
      slightest ability to render efficient military service. These volunteers
      included clerks, business men, professional men from the cities of New
      Jersey and Pennsylvania, thousands of workmen from great factories like
      the Roebling wire works, thousands of villagers and farmers, all blazing
      with zeal, but none of them able to handle a high-power Springfield rifle
      or operate a range-finder or make the adjustments for the time-fuse of a
      shell.
    </p>
    <p>
      {Illustration: THE PEOPLE KNEW THE ANSWER OF VON HINDENBURG. THEY HAD READ
      IT, AS HAD ALL THE WORLD FOR MILES AROUND, IN THE CATACLYSM OF THE
      PLUNGING TOWERS. NEW YORK MUST SURRENDER OR PERISH!}
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They shot away tons of ammunition without hitting anything,&rdquo; said one of
      the American officers to me. &ldquo;They didn&rsquo;t know how to use wind-gauges or
      elevation-sights. They couldn&rsquo;t even pull a trigger properly.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      And yet, the Germans suffered heavily in that desperate battle of the
      fourth day&mdash;partly because they attacked again and again in close
      formation and were mowed down by American machine-guns; partly because
      General Wood had fortified his position with miles of wire entanglements
      through which high-voltage electric currents were sent from the
      power-house of the Newtown and Trenton trolley systems in Newtown,
      Pennsylvania; and, finally, because the American commander, in an address
      to his troops, read at sunset on the eve of battle, had called upon them
      in inspiring words to fight for their wives and children, for the
      integrity of the nation, for the glory of the old flag.
    </p>
    <p>
      And they fought until they died. When the battle was over, the Americans
      had lost 15,000 out of 70,000, while the Germans lost 12,000 out of
      125,000. Von Hindenburg himself admitted that he had never seen such mad,
      hopeless, magnificent courage.
    </p>
    <p>
      Again General Wood faced defeat and the necessity of falling back to a
      stronger position. For weeks thousands of labourers had been digging
      trenches north of Philadelphia; and now the American army, beaten but
      defiant, retreated rapidly and in some disorder through Jenkintown and
      Bristol to this new line of intrenchments that spread in fan shape from
      the Schuylkill to the Delaware.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was of the most desperate importance now that word be sent to
      Harrisburg and to the mobilisation camp at Gettysburg and to other
      recruiting points in the West and South, demanding that all possible
      reinforcements be rushed to Philadelphia. As communication by telegraph
      and telephone was cut off, General Wood despatched Colonel Horace M.
      Reading and Captain William E. Pedrick, officers of the National Guard, in
      a swift automobile, with instructions that these calls for help be flashed
      <i>without fail</i> from the wireless station in the lofty granite shaft
      of the Trenton monument that commemorates Washington&rsquo;s victory over the
      Hessians.
    </p>
    <p>
      Unfortunately, owing to bad roads and wrecked bridges, these officers
      suffered great delay, and only reached the Trenton monument as the German
      host, with rolling drums, was marching into the New Jersey capital along
      Pennington Avenue, the triumphant way that Washington had followed after
      his great victory.
    </p>
    <p>
      As the invaders reached the little park where the monument stands, they
      saw that a wireless station was in operation there, and demanded its
      surrender.
    </p>
    <p>
      Colonel Reading, wishing to gain time (for every minute counted), opened a
      glass door and stepped out on the little balcony at the top of the
      monument one hundred and fifty feet above the ground. He tried to speak,
      but a German officer cut him short. He must surrender instantly or they
      would fire.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Fire and be damned!&rdquo; shouted the Colonel, and turned to the white-faced
      wireless operator inside. &ldquo;Have you got Harrisburg yet?&rdquo; he asked. &ldquo;For
      God&rsquo;s sake, hustle!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Just got &lsquo;em,&rdquo; answered the operator. &ldquo;I need five minutes to get this
      message through.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Five minutes! The German officer below, red with anger, was calling out
      sharp orders. A six-inch gun was set up under the Carolina poplars not a
      hundred yards from the monument.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll show them!&rdquo; roared the Prussian, as the gun crew drove home a
      hundred-pound shell. &ldquo;Ready!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Is that message gone?&rdquo; gasped Reading.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Half of it. I need two minutes.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Two minutes! The officer was aiming the big gun at the base of the
      monument, and was just giving the word to fire when the heavy bronze door
      swung open, and between the two bronze soldiers appeared Elias A. Smith, a
      white-haired veteran, over ninety years old, with a bronze medal on his
      breast and the Stars and Stripes wound around his waist.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I fought in the Civil War!&rdquo; he cried, in a shrill voice. &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s my
      medal. Here&rsquo;s my flag. I&rsquo;ve been the guardian of the monument for sixteen
      years. George Washington&rsquo;s up there on top, and if you&rsquo;re going to shoot
      him, you can shoot me, too.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The Germans were so surprised by this venerable apparition that they stood
      like stones.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Hi! Yi!&rdquo; shouted Colonel Reading. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s gone!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Hurrah!&rdquo; echoed the old man. &ldquo;I was with Grant at Appomattox when Lee
      surrendered. Why don&rsquo;t you fire?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Then they did fire, and the proud shaft bearing the statue of George
      Washington crumbled to earth; and in the ruin of it four brave Americans
      perished.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XII. &mdash; REAR-ADMIRAL THOMAS Q. ALLYN WEIGHS CHANCES OF THE
      AMERICAN FLEET IN IMPENDING NAVAL BATTLE
    </h2>
    <p>
      While the main German army pressed on in pursuit of General Wood&rsquo;s fleeing
      forces, a body of ten thousand of the invaders was left behind at various
      points in northern New Jersey and eastern Pennsylvania to pacify this
      region and organise its industries and activities. The Picatinny arsenal
      was now running night and day, under the direction of a force of chemists
      brought from Germany, turning out shells and cartridges for the invading
      army. The great Roebling plant in Trenton was commandeered for the
      production of field telephone and telegraph wire, and the Mercer
      automobile factory for military motor-trucks and ambulances.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was astonished at the rapidity with which German engineers repaired
      bridges and railroads that had been wrecked by the retreating Americans,
      and was assured that the invaders had brought with them from their own
      country a full supply of steel spans, beams, girders, trusses, and other
      parts necessary for such repairs, down to the individual bolts and pins
      for each separate construction. It was an amazing illustration of their
      preparedness, and of their detailed knowledge of conditions in America.
    </p>
    <p>
      Trains were soon running regularly between Jersey City and Trenton, their
      operations being put in the hands of two Pennsylvania Railroad officials,
      J.B. Fisher, superintendent of the New York division, and Victor Wierman,
      superintendent of the Trenton division&mdash;these two, with their
      operating staffs, being held personally responsible, under pain of death,
      for the safe and prompt arrival of troops and supplies.
    </p>
    <p>
      For the pacification of Trenton the Germans left a force of three thousand
      men with artillery encamped in the State Fair grounds near the capital,
      and it was announced in the Trenton <i>Times</i> (made the official German
      organ) that at the first disorder shells would be fired at the white
      marble City Hall, at the State House, with its precious collection of
      flags and banners from the Civil and Revolutionary wars, at the Broad
      Street National Bank, and at the Public Service building, which stands
      where the Hessians surrendered in 1776.
    </p>
    <p>
      Among hostages taken here by the Germans were R.V. Kuser, head of the
      Trenton Brewing Company; General Wilbur F. Sadler, president of the Broad
      Street Trust Company; Colonel E. C. Stahl, a Civil War veteran and the
      father of Rose Stahl; also the Roman Catholic Bishop James F. McFaul and
      the Episcopal Bishop Paul Matthews.
    </p>
    <p>
      Many Trenton women, including Mrs. Karl G. Roebling, Mrs. Oliphant, wife
      of the General, Miss Mabel Hayter, and Mrs. Charles Howell Cook, were
      devoted in nursing the wounded who were brought by thousands to the
      historic churches of Trenton, used as hospitals, and to the vast Second
      Regiment armory.
    </p>
    <p>
      Several American nurses came into possession of diaries found on wounded
      German soldiers, and some of these recorded excesses similar to those
      committed in Belgium in 1914.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;On the main street of the town of Dover, New Jersey,&rdquo; wrote Private
      Karmenz, 178th Saxon Regiment, &ldquo;I saw about fifty citizens shot for having
      fired from ambush on our soldiers.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Glorious victories in Pennsylvania,&rdquo; rejoiced Lieutenant A. Aberlein of
      the Eighth Bavarian Army Corps. &ldquo;Our men of softer spirit give the wounded
      a bullet of deliverance; the others hack and stab as they may.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The tribute levied upon Trenton was four million dollars in gold, recently
      realised by the State Treasurer from an issue of State bonds to supply
      State deficiencies.
    </p>
    <p>
      German officers made themselves comfortable in the Trenton Club, the Lotus
      Club, the Carteret Club, and the Elk Home; also in the Windsor House, the
      Trenton House, and the Sterling House. Printed schedules of rates for food
      and rooms were posted up, and the proprietors were notified that they
      would be punished if they refused to give service at these rates, just as
      the German soldiers would be punished if they tried to evade payment.
    </p>
    <p>
      Officers of the German headquarters staff occupied Karl G. Roebling&rsquo;s show
      place, with its fine stables, lawns, and greenhouses.
    </p>
    <p>
      A few days after the battle of Trenton, I received a cable to the effect
      that the American fleet had nearly completed its voyage around South
      America and had been sighted off Cape St. Roque, the northeastern corner
      of Brazil, headed toward the Caribbean Sea. It was known that the German
      fleet had been cruising in these waters for weeks, awaiting the enemy&rsquo;s
      arrival, and cutting off their colliers and supply ships from all ports in
      Europe and America; and it was now evident that a great naval battle must
      occur in the near future.
    </p>
    <p>
      I took steamer at once for Kingston, Jamaica; and on the evening of my
      arrival, July 10, I called on my friend, Rear-Admiral Thomas Q. Allyn of
      the United States Navy (now retired), whom I had not seen since our
      dramatic meeting at Colon when the Panama Canal was wrecked by the
      Germans. I had many questions to ask the Admiral, and we talked until
      after midnight.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I am horribly anxious, Mr. Langston,&rdquo; said the veteran of Manila. &ldquo;We are
      facing a great crisis. Our ships are going into battle, and within a few
      hours we shall know whether the civilian policy at Washington that has
      controlled our naval development&mdash;the policy that forced me to resign
      rather than assume the responsibility for consequences&mdash;we shall know
      whether that policy was wise or foolish.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I did not suspect that you resigned for that reason,&rdquo; said I.
    </p>
    <p>
      His face darkened.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes. There had been tension for months. The whole service was
      demoralised. Discipline and efficiency were destroyed. As far back as
      1914, I testified before the House Committee on Naval Affairs that it
      would take five years to make our fleet ready to fight the fleet of any
      first-class naval power, and to get our personnel into proper condition. I
      said that we were not able to defend the Monroe Doctrine in the Atlantic,
      or to force the Open Door of trade in the Pacific. I might as well have
      spoken to the winds, and when the order came last April, against the best
      naval advice, to take our fleet into the Pacific, I handed in my
      resignation.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You must be glad you did, in view of what happened.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes; but&mdash;I am thinking of my country. I am thinking of those
      unfortunate ships that have come around South America without sufficient
      coal or provisions.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I asked Admiral Allyn how the American fleet compared with the Germans in
      number of ships. He shook his head.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We are far behind them. Nine years ago, in 1912, we stood next to Great
      Britain in naval strength; but since then we have steadily fallen back.
      Germany has a dozen super-dreadnoughts, ships of over 30,000 tons, while
      we have six. Germany has twenty dreadnoughts of from 20,000 to 30,000 tons
      to our ten. She has four battle-cruisers, while we have none. She has a
      hundred destroyers to our twenty-five.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I understand that these figures refer to the fleets that are actually
      going into battle?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes. Germany&rsquo;s entire naval strength is a third more than that. I have
      accurate information. You see, our fleet is outclassed.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;But it will fight?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Of course our fleet will fight; but&mdash;we can&rsquo;t get to our base at
      Guantánamo&mdash;the German fleet blocks the way. For years we have begged
      that Guantánamo be fortified; but our request was always refused.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ah, why? Why, in 1915, were we refused eighteen thousand men on the
      active list that were absolutely necessary to man our ships? Why have we
      practically no naval reserves? Why, in 1916, were the President&rsquo;s
      reasonable demands for naval preparedness refused by Congress? I will tell
      you why! Because politics has been considered more than efficiency in the
      handling of our navy. Vital needs have been neglected, so that a show of
      economy could be made to the people and get their votes. Economy! Good
      heavens! you see where it has brought us!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      On the morning of July 11, as I was breakfasting in the hotel with Admiral
      Allyn, there was great excitement outside, and, going to the piazza, we
      saw a large airship approaching rapidly from the northwest at the height
      of about a mile. It was one of the non-rigid Parseval type, evidently a
      German.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;A scout from the enemy&rsquo;s fleet,&rdquo; said Admiral Allyn.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;That means they are not far away?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes. They came through the Windward Passage three weeks ago, and have
      been lying off Guantánamo ever since. We ought to have wireless reports of
      them soon.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      As a matter of fact, before noon the wireless station at Santiago de Cuba
      flashed the news that coasting steamers had reported German battleships
      steaming slowly to the south, and a few hours later other wireless reports
      informed us that the American fleet had been sighted off the southern
      coast of Haiti.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Admiral nodded grimly.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The hour has struck. The German and American fleets will meet in these
      waters somewhere between Guantánamo and Jamaica.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIII. &mdash; THE GREAT NAVAL BATTLE OF THE CARIBBEAN SEA
    </h2>
    <p>
      In a flash my newspaper sense made me realise that this was an
      extraordinary opportunity. The greatest naval battle in history was about
      to be fought so near us that we might almost hear the big guns booming. It
      would be worth thousands of pounds to the London <i>Times</i> to have an
      eye-witness account of this battle, and I resolved to turn the island of
      Jamaica upside down in search of an aeroplane that would take me out to
      sea.
    </p>
    <p>
      The fates were certainly kind to me&mdash;or rather the British Consul was
      efficient; and before night I had secured the use of a powerful
      Burgess-Dunne aeroboat, the property of Vincent Astor; also Mr. Astor&rsquo;s
      skilful services as pilot, which he generously offered through his
      interest in naval affairs and because of his desire to give the world this
      first account of a sea battle observed from the sky.
    </p>
    <p>
      We started the next morning, an hour after sunrise, flying to the north
      straight across the island of Jamaica, and then out over the open sea. I
      shall never forget the beauty of the scene that we looked down upon&mdash;the
      tropical flowers and verdure of the rugged island, and the calmly smiling
      purple waters surrounding it. We flew swiftly through the delicious air at
      a height of half a mile, and in two hours we had covered a third of the
      distance to Guantánamo and were out of sight of land.
    </p>
    <p>
      At ten o&rsquo;clock we turned to the right and steered for a column of smoke
      that had appeared on the far horizon; and at half-past ten we were
      circling over the American fleet as it steamed ahead slowly with fires
      under all boilers and everything ready for full speed at an instant&rsquo;s
      notice.
    </p>
    <p>
      As we approached the huge super-dreadnought <i>Pennsylvania</i>, flag-ship
      of the American squadron, Mr. Astor unfurled the Stars and Stripes, and we
      could hear the crews cheering as they waved back their greetings.
    </p>
    <p>
      I should explain that we were able to converse easily, above the roar of
      our propellers, by talking into telephone head-pieces.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Look!&rdquo; cried Astor. &ldquo;Our ships are beginning a manoeuvre.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The <i>Pennsylvania</i>, with red-and-white flags on her foremast, was
      signalling to the fleet: &ldquo;Prepare to engage the enemy.&rdquo; We watched eagerly
      as the great ships, stretching away for miles, turned slightly to
      starboard and, with quickened engines, advanced in one long line of
      battle.
    </p>
    <p>
      At half-past eleven another smoke column appeared on our port bow, and
      within half an hour we could make out enemy vessels on either hand.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They&rsquo;re coming on in two divisions, miles apart,&rdquo; said Astor, studying
      the two smoke columns with his glasses. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re headed right between them.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      We flew ahead rapidly, and presently could clearly discern that the
      vessels to starboard were large battleships and those to port were
      destroyers.
    </p>
    <p>
      At one o&rsquo;clock the two fleets were about nineteen thousand yards apart and
      were jockeying for positions. Suddenly four vessels detached themselves
      from the German battleship line and steamed at high speed across the head
      of the American column.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that? What are they doing?&rdquo; asked Astor.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Trying to cap our line and torpedo it. Admiral Togo did the same thing
      against the Russians in the Yellow Sea. Admiral Fletcher is swinging his
      line to port to block that move.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;How do they know which way to manoeuvre? I don&rsquo;t see any signals.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s done by radio from ship to ship. Look! They are forcing us to head
      more to port. That gives them the advantage of sunlight. Ah!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I pointed to the German line, where several puffs of smoke showed that
      they had begun firing. Ten seconds later great geyser splashes rose from
      the sea five hundred yards beyond the <i>Pennsylvania,</i> and then we
      heard the dull booming of the discharge. The battle had begun. I glanced
      at my watch. It was half-past one.
    </p>
    <p>
      <i>Boom! Boom! Boom!</i> spoke the big German guns eight miles away; but
      we always saw the splashes before we heard the sounds. Sometimes we could
      see the twelve-inch shells curving through the air&mdash;big, black,
      clumsy fellows.
    </p>
    <p>
      Awe-struck, from our aeroplane, Astor and I looked down upon the American
      dreadnoughts as they answered the enemy in kind, a whole line thundering
      forth salvos that made the big guns flame out like monster torches, dull
      red in rolling white clouds of smokeless powder. We could see the tense
      faces of those brave men in the fire-control tops.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;See that!&rdquo; I cried, as a shell struck so close to the <i>Arizona</i>,
      second in line, that the &ldquo;spotting&rdquo; officers on the fire-control platform
      high on her foremast were drenched with salt water.
    </p>
    <p>
      I can give here only the main features of this great battle of the
      Caribbean, which lasted five hours and a quarter and covered a water area
      about thirty miles long and twenty miles wide. My plan of it, drawn with
      red and black lines to represent movements of rival fleets, is a tangle of
      loops and curves.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Do you think there is any chance that it will be a drawn game?&rdquo; said
      Astor, pale with excitement.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; I answered. &ldquo;A battle like this is never a drawn game. It&rsquo;s always a
      fight to a finish.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Our aeroboat behaved splendidly, in spite of a freshening trade-wind
      breeze, and we circled lower for a better view of the battle which now
      grew in fierceness as the fleets came to closer quarters. At one time we
      dropped to within two thousand feet of the sea before Astor remembered
      that our American flag made a tempting target for the German guns and
      steered to a higher level.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They don&rsquo;t seem to fire at us, do they? I suppose they think we aren&rsquo;t
      worth bothering with,&rdquo; he laughed.
    </p>
    <p>
      As a matter of fact, not a single shot was fired at us during the entire
      engagement.
    </p>
    <p>
      I must say a word here regarding an adroit German manoeuvre early in the
      battle by which the invaders turned an apparent inferiority in submarines
      into a distinct advantage. The American fleet had thirty submarines (these
      had been towed painfully around South America) while the Germans had only
      five, but these five were large and speedy, built to travel with the fleet
      under their own power and not fall behind. The thirty American submarines,
      on the other hand, could not make over twelve knots an hour. Consequently,
      when the German line suddenly quickened its pace to twenty-five knots,
      Admiral Fletcher had to choose between abandoning his underwater craft and
      allowing his fleet to be capped by the enemy; that is, exposed to a raking
      fire with great danger from torpedoes. He decided to abandon his
      submarines (all but one that had the necessary speed) and thus he lost
      whatever assistance these vessels might have rendered, and was obliged to
      fight with a single submarine against five, instead of with thirty against
      five.
    </p>
    <p>
      When I explained this manoeuvre to Mr. Astor he asked the natural question
      why Admiral Fletcher had not foreseen this unfortunate issue and left his
      burdensome submarines at Panama. I pointed out that these thirty vessels
      had cost half a million dollars apiece and it was the admiral&rsquo;s duty to
      take care of them. It naturally was not his fault if Congress had failed
      to give him submarines that were large enough and swift enough for
      efficient fighting with the fleet.
    </p>
    <p>
      Meantime the battle was booming on in two widely separated areas, the
      battleships in one, the destroyers in the other.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mr. Astor had held the wheel for five hours and, at my suggestion, he
      retired to the comfortable little cabin and lay down for fifteen minutes,
      leaving the aeroboat to soar in great slow circles under its admirable
      automatic controls over the main battle area. When he returned he brought
      hot coffee in a silver thermos bottle and some sandwiches, and we ate
      these with keen relish, in spite of the battle beneath us.
    </p>
    <p>
      The dreadnoughts had now closed in to eight thousand yards and the battle
      was at the height of its fury, making a continuous roar, and forming five
      miles of flaming tongues in a double line, darting out their messages of
      hate and death.
    </p>
    <p>
      As the afternoon wore on the wind strengthened from the northeast and I
      realised the disadvantage of the American ships indicated by Admiral
      Allyn, namely, that, being light of coal, they rode high in the sea and
      rolled heavily. Unfortunately, the Germans had thirty battleships to
      seventeen and this disparity was presently increased when the flotilla of
      German destroyers, about eighty, after vanquishing their opponents,
      swarmed against the hardpressed American line, attacking from the port
      quarter under the lead of the four battle-cruisers so that the valiant
      seventeen were practically surrounded.
    </p>
    <p>
      In this storm of shells every ship was struck again and again and the huge
      Pennsylvania, at the head of the column, seemed to be the target of the
      whole German column. About three o&rsquo;clock, as the flagship rolled far over
      to port and exposed her starboard side, a twelve-inch shell caught her
      below the armoured belt and smashed through into the engine-room, where it
      exploded with terrific violence. The flagship immediately fell behind,
      helpless, and Admiral Fletcher, badly wounded and realising that his
      vessel was doomed, signalled to Admiral Mayo, on the <i>Arizona</i>,
      second in line, to assume command of the fleet.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Look!&rdquo; cried Astor, suddenly, pointing to two black spots in the sea
      about a thousand yards away.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Periscopes,&rdquo; said I.
    </p>
    <p>
      At the same moment we saw two white trails swiftly moving along the
      surface and converging on the <i>Pennsylvania</i> with deadly precision.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Torpedoes! They&rsquo;re going to finish her!&rdquo; murmured Astor, his hands
      clenched tight, his eyes sick with pain.
    </p>
    <p>
      There was a smothered explosion, then a thick column of water shot high
      into the air, and a moment later there came another explosion as the
      second torpedo found its target.
    </p>
    <p>
      And now the great super-dreadnought <i>Pennsylvania</i> was sinking into
      the Caribbean with Admiral Fletcher aboard and seventeen hundred men. She
      listed more and more, and, suddenly, sinking lower at the bows, she
      submerged her great shoulders in the ocean and rolled her vast bulk slowly
      to starboard until her dark keel line rose above the surface with a green
      Niagara pouring over it.
    </p>
    <p>
      For a long time the <i>Pennsylvania</i> lay awash while the battle
      thundered about her and scores of blue-jackets clambered over her rails
      from her perpendicular decks and clung to her slippery sides. We could
      hear them singing &ldquo;Nancy Lee&rdquo; as the waves broke over them.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Are we afraid to die?&rdquo; shouted one of the men, and I thrilled at the
      answering chorus of voices, &ldquo;No!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Just before the final plunge we turned away. It was too horrible, and
      Astor swung the aeroplane in a great curve so that we might not see the
      last agonies of those brave men. When we looked back the flagship had
      disappeared.
    </p>
    <p>
      As we circled again over the spot where the <i>Pennsylvania</i> went down
      we were able to make out a few men clinging to fragments of wreckage and
      calling for help.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Do you see them? Do you hear them?&rdquo; cried Astor, his face like chalk. &ldquo;We
      must save one of them. She&rsquo;ll carry three if we throw over some of our
      oil.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      This explains why we did not see the end of the battle of the Caribbean
      and the complete destruction of the American fleet. We threw overboard a
      hundred pounds of oil and started back to Kingston with a crippled engine
      and a half-drowned lieutenant of the <i>Pennsylvania</i> stretched on the
      cabin floor. How we saved him is a miracle. One of our wings buckled when
      we struck the water and I got a nasty clip from the propeller as I dragged
      the man aboard; but, somehow, we did the thing and got home hours later
      with one of the few survivors of Admiral Fletcher&rsquo;s ill-fated expedition.
    </p>
    <p>
      I have no idea how I wrote my story that night; my head was throbbing with
      pain and I was so weak I could scarcely hold my pencil, but somehow, I
      cabled two columns to the London <i>Times</i>, and it went around the
      world as the first description of a naval battle seen from an aeroplane. I
      did not know until afterwards how much the Germans suffered. They really
      lost about half their battleships, but the Americans lost everything.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIV. &mdash; PHILADELPHIA&rsquo;S FIRST CITY TROOPS DIE IN DEFENCE OF
      THE LIBERTY BELL
    </h2>
    <p>
      I come now to the point in my narrative where I ceased to be merely a
      reporter of stirring events, and began to play a small part that Fate had
      reserved for me in this great international drama. Thank God, I was able
      to be of service to stricken America, my own country that I have loved so
      much, although, as correspondent of the London <i>Times</i>, it has been
      my lot to spend years in foreign lands.
    </p>
    <p>
      Obeying instructions from my paper, I hastened back to the United States,
      where important events were pending. Von Hindenburg, after his Trenton
      victory, had strangely delayed his advance against Philadelphia&mdash;we
      were to learn the reason for this shortly&mdash;but, as we passed through
      Savannah, we had news that the invading army was moving southward against
      General Wood&rsquo;s reconstructed line of defence that spread from Bristol on
      the Delaware to Jenkintown to a point three miles below Norristown on the
      Schuylkill.
    </p>
    <p>
      The next morning we reached Richmond and here, I should explain, I said
      good-bye to the rescued lieutenant, an attractive young fellow, Randolph
      Ryerson, whose home was in Richmond, and whose sister, Miss Mary Ryerson,
      a strikingly beautiful girl, had met us at Charleston the night before in
      response to a telegram that her brother was coming and was ill. She nursed
      him through the night in an uncomfortable stateroom and came to me in the
      morning greatly disturbed about his condition. The young man had a high
      fever, she said, and had raved for hours calling out a name, a rather
      peculiar name&mdash;Widding&mdash;Widding&mdash;Lemuel A. Widding&mdash;over
      and over again in his delirium.
    </p>
    <p>
      I tried to reassure her and said laughingly that, as long as it was not a
      woman&rsquo;s name he was raving about, there was no ground for anxiety. She
      gave me her address in Richmond and thanked me very sweetly for what I had
      done. I must admit that for days I was haunted by that girl&rsquo;s face and by
      the glorious beauty of her eyes.
    </p>
    <p>
      When we reached Washington we found that city in a panic over news of
      another American defeat. Philadelphia had fallen and all communications
      were cut off. Furthermore, a third force of Germans had landed in
      Chesapeake Bay, which meant that the national capital was threatened by
      two German armies. We now understood von Hindenburg&rsquo;s deliberation.
    </p>
    <p>
      In this emergency, Marshall Reid, brother-in-law of Lieutenant Dustin, the
      crack aviator of the navy, who had been aboard the <i>Pennsylvania</i>,
      volunteered to carry messages from the President to Philadelphia and to
      bring back news. Reid himself was one of the best amateur flying men in
      the country and he did me the honour to choose me as his companion.
    </p>
    <p>
      We started late in the afternoon of August 17 in Mr. Reid&rsquo;s swift Burgess
      machine and made the distance in two hours. I shall never forget our
      feelings as we circled over the City of Brotherly Love and looked down
      upon wrecks of railroad bridges that lay across the Schuylkill. Shots were
      fired at us from the aerodrome of the League Island Navy Yard; so we flew
      on, searching for a safer landing place.
    </p>
    <p>
      We tried to make the roof landing on the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel, but the
      wind was too high and we finally chanced it among the maples of
      Rittenhouse Square, after narrowly missing the sharp steeple of St. Mark&rsquo;s
      Church. Here, with a few bruises, we came to earth just in front of the
      Rittenhouse Club and were assisted by Dr. J. William White, who rushed out
      and did what he could to help us.
    </p>
    <p>
      Five hours later, Reid started back to Washington with details of reverses
      sent by military and city authorities that decided the administration to
      move the seat of government to Chicago without delay. He also carried from
      me (I remained in Philadelphia) a hastily written despatch to be
      transmitted from Washington via Kingston to the London <i>Times</i>, in
      which I summed up the situation on the basis of facts given me by my
      friend, Richard J. Beamish, owner of the Philadelphia <i>Press</i>, my
      conclusion being that the American cause was lost. And I included other
      valuable information gleaned from reporter friends of mine on the <i>North
      American</i> and the <i>Bulletin</i>. I even ventured a prophecy that the
      United States would sue for peace within ten days.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What were General Wood&rsquo;s losses in the battle of Philadelphia?&rdquo; I asked
      Beamish.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Terribly heavy&mdash;nearly half of his army in killed, wounded and
      prisoners. What could we do? Von Hindenburg outnumbered us from two to one
      and we were short of ammunition, artillery, horses, aeroplanes,
      everything.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Who blew up those railroad bridges and cut the wires?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;German spies&mdash;there are a lot of them here. They sank a barge loaded
      with bricks in the Schuylkill just above its joining with the Delaware and
      blocked the channel so that ten battleships in the naval basin at League
      Island couldn&rsquo;t get out.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What became of the battleships?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Commandant Price opened their valves and sank them in the basin.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;And the American army, where is it now?&rdquo; I asked.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They&rsquo;ve retreated south of the Brandywine&mdash;what&rsquo;s left of them. Our
      new line is entrenching from Chester to Upland to Westchester with our
      right flank on the Delaware; but what&rsquo;s the use?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      So crushing was the supremacy of the invaders that there was no further
      thought of resistance in Philadelphia. The German army was encamped in
      Fairmount Park and it was known that, at the first sign of revolt, German
      siege-guns on the historic heights of Wissahickon and Chestnut Hill would
      destroy the City Hall with its great tower bearing the statue of William
      Penn and the massive grey pile of Drexel and Company&rsquo;s banking house at
      the corner of Fifth and Chestnut streets. Von Hindenburg had announced
      this, also that he did not consider it necessary to take hostages.
    </p>
    <p>
      There was one act of resistance, however, when the enemy entered
      Philadelphia that must live among deeds of desperate heroism.
    </p>
    <p>
      As the German hosts marched down Chestnut Street they came to Independence
      Hall and here, blocking the way on their sorrel horses with two white
      mounted trumpeters, was the First City Troop, sixty-five men under Captain
      J. Franklin McFadden, in their black coats and white doeskin
      riding-breeches, in the black helmets with raccoon skin plumes, in their
      odd-shaped riding boots high over the knee, all as in Revolutionary days&mdash;here
      they were drawn up before the statue of George Washington and the home of
      the Liberty Bell, resolved to die here, fighting as well as they could for
      these things that were sacred. And they did die, most of them, or fell
      wounded before a single one of the enemy set foot inside of Independence
      Hall.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here is the list of heroes who offered their lives for the cause of
      liberty:
    </p>
    <p>
      Captain J. Franklin McFadden, First Lieutenant George C. Thayer, Second
      Lieutenant John Conyngham Stevens, First Sergeant Thomas Cadwalader,
      Second Sergeant (Quartermaster) Benjamin West Frazier, Third Sergeant
      George Joyce Sewell, William B. Churchman, Richard M. Philler, F. Wilson
      Prichett, Clarence H. Clark, Joseph W. Lewis, Edward D. Page, Richard
      Tilghman, Edward D. Toland, Jr., McCall Keating, Robert P. Frazier,
      Alexander Cadwalader, Morris W. Stroud, George Brooke, 3d, Charles
      Poultney Davis, Saunders L. Meade, Cooper Howell, C. W. Henry, Edmund
      Thayer, Harry C. Yarrow, Jr., Alexander C. Yarnall, Louis Rodman Page,
      Jr., George Gordon Meade, Pierson Pierce, Andrew Porter, Richard H. R.
      Toland, John B. Thayer, West Frazier, John Frazer, P. P. Chrystie, Albert
      L. Smith, William W. Bodine, Henry D. Beylard, Effingham Buckley Morris,
      Austin G. Maury, John P. Hollingsworth, Rulon Miller, Harold M. Willcox,
      Charles Wharton, Howard York, Robert Gilpin Irvin, J. Keating Willcox,
      William Watkins, Jr., Harry Ingersoll, Russell Thayer, Fitz Eugene Dixon,
      Percy C. Madeira, Jr., Marmaduke Tilden, Jr., H. Harrison Smith, C. Howard
      Clark, Jr., Richard McCall Elliot, Jr., George Harrison Frazier, Jr.,
      Oliver Eton Cromwell, Richard Harte, D. Reeves Henry, Henry H. Houston,
      Charles J. Ingersoll.
    </p>
    <p>
      It grieved me when I visited the quaint little house on Arch Street with
      its gabled window and wooden blinds, where Betsey Ross made the first flag
      of the United States of America, to find a German banner in place of the
      accustomed thirteen white stars on their square of blue. And again, when I
      stood beside Benjamin Franklin&rsquo;s grave in Christ Church Cemetery, I was
      shocked to see a German flag marking this honoured resting-place.
      &ldquo;Benjamin and Deborah, 1790,&rdquo; was the deeply graven words and, beside them
      under a kindly elm, the battered headstone of their little four-year-old
      son, &ldquo;Francis F.&mdash;A delight to all who knew him.&rdquo; Then a German flag!
    </p>
    <p>
      I began to wonder why we had not learned a lesson from England&rsquo;s
      lamentable showing in 1915. What good did all our wealth do us now? It
      would be taken from us&mdash;had not the Germans already levied an
      indemnity of four hundred millions upon Philadelphia? And seized the
      Baldwin locomotive works, the greatest in the world, employing 16,000 men?
      And the Cramp shipbuilding yards? And the terminus at Point Breeze down
      the river of the great Standard Oil Company&rsquo;s pipe line with enormous oil
      supplies?
    </p>
    <p>
      Philadelphians realised all this when it was too late. They knew that ten
      thousand American soldiers, killed in battle, were lying in fresh-made
      graves. They knew that the Philadelphia Hospital and the University of
      Pennsylvania Hospital and the commercial museum buildings nearby that had
      been changed into hospitals could scarcely provide beds and nurses for
      wounded American soldiers. And yet, &ldquo;What can we do?&rdquo; said Mayor George H.
      Earle, Jr., to me. &ldquo;New York City resisted, and you know what happened.
      Boston rioted, and she had her lesson. No! Philadelphia will not resist.
      Besides, read this.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He showed me a message just arrived from Washington saying that the United
      States was about to sue for peace.
    </p>
    <p>
      The next day we had news that a truce had been declared and immediately
      negotiations began between Chicago and Berlin, regarding a peace
      conference, it being finally decided that this should take place at Mt.
      Vernon, in the historic home of George Washington, sessions to begin early
      in September, in order to allow time for the arrival of delegates from
      Germany.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XV. &mdash; THRILLING INCIDENT AT WANAMAKER&rsquo;S STORE WHEN GERMANS
      DISHONOUR AMERICAN FLAG
    </h2>
    <p>
      During these peace preliminaries Philadelphia accepted her fate with
      cheerful philosophy. In 1777 she had entertained British conquerors, now
      she entertained the Germans. An up-to-date <i>meschianza</i> was
      organised, as in Revolutionary days, at the magnificent estate &ldquo;Druim
      Moir&rdquo; of Samuel F. Houston in Chestnut Hill, with all the old features
      reproduced, the pageant, the tournament of Knights Templars and the games,
      German officers competing in the latter.
    </p>
    <p>
      In polo an American team composed of William H. T. Huhn, Victor C. Mather,
      Alexander Brown and Mitchell Rosengarten played against a crack team of
      German cavalry officers and beat them easily.
    </p>
    <p>
      In lawn tennis the American champion, Richard Norris Williams, beat
      Lieutenant Froitzheim, a famous German player and a friend of the Crown
      Prince, in straight sets, the lieutenant being penalised for foot faulting
      by the referee, Eddie von Friesen, a wearer of the iron cross, although
      his mother was a Philadelphia woman.
    </p>
    <p>
      Thirty thousand German soldiers crowded Shibe Park daily to watch the
      series of exhibition contests between the Athletics and the Cincinnati
      Reds, both teams being among the first civilians captured on the victors&rsquo; 
      entrance into Philadelphia. The Reds, composed almost entirely of Germans,
      owned by Garry Hermann and managed by Herzog, were of course the
      favourites over the Irish-American cohorts of Cornelius McGillicuddy; but
      the Athletics won the series in a deciding game that will never be
      forgotten. The dramatic moment came in the ninth inning, with the bases
      full, when the famous Frenchman, Napoleon Lajoie, pinch-hitting for Baker,
      advanced to the plate and knocked the ball far over Von Kolnitz&rsquo;s head for
      a home run and the game.
    </p>
    <p>
      Another interesting affair was a dinner given to German officers by
      editors of the <i>Saturday Evening Post</i>, on the tenth floor of the
      Curtis Building, the menu comprising characteristic Philadelphia dishes,
      such as pepper pot soup with a dash of sherry, and scrapple with fishhouse
      punch. Various writers were present, and there were dramatic meetings
      between American war correspondents and Prussian generals who had put them
      in jail in the 1915 campaign. I noticed a certain coldness on the part of
      Richard Harding Davis toward a young Bavarian lieutenant who, in Northern
      France, had conceived the amiable purpose of running Mr. Davis through the
      ribs with a bayonet; but Irvin S. Cobb was more forgiving and drank clover
      club cocktails to the health of a burly colonel who had ordered him shot
      as a spy and graciously explained the proper way of eating catfish and
      waffles.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Crown Prince was greatly interested when informed by Owen Wister that
      these excellent dishes were of German origin, having been brought to
      America by the Hessians in Revolutionary days and preserved by their
      descendants, such families as the Fows and the Faunces, who still occupied
      a part of Northeastern Philadelphia known as Fishtown. His Imperial
      Highness also had an animated discussion with Joseph A. Steinmetz,
      President of the Aero Club of Pennsylvania, as to the effectiveness of the
      Steinmetz pendant hook bomb Zeppelin destroyer.
    </p>
    <p>
      The German officers enjoyed these days immensely and made themselves at
      home in the principal hotels, paying scrupulously for their
      accommodations. General von Hindenburg stopped at the Ritz-Carlton,
      Admiral von Tirpitz at the Bellevue-Stratford and others at the Walton and
      the Adelphia. Several Prussian generals established themselves at the
      Continental Hotel because of their interest in the fact that Edward VII of
      England stopped there when he was Prince of Wales, and they drew lots for
      the privilege of sleeping in the historic bed that had been occupied by an
      English sovereign.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Crown Prince himself was domiciled with his staff in E. T.
      Stotesbury&rsquo;s fine mansion on Walnut Street. Every day he lunched at the
      Racquet Club, now occupied by German officers, and played court tennis
      with Dr. Alvin C. Kraenzlein, the famous University of Pennsylvania
      athlete, whom he had met in Berlin when Kraenzlein was coaching the German
      Olympic team for the 1916 contests that were postponed, owing to the war,
      until 1920. He also had a game with Jay Gould, champion of the world, and
      being hopelessly outclassed, declared laughingly (the Crown Prince loves
      American slang) that this young millionaire was &ldquo;some player.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      A few days after the <i>meschiama</i> fêtes, his Imperial Highness gave a
      dinner and reception to some of the leading men in Philadelphia and,
      despite prejudice, was voted a remarkable figure like his father,
      combining versatile knowledge with personal charm. He talked politics with
      Boies Penrose, and reform with Rudolph Blankenburg. He was interested in
      A. J. Drexel Biddle&rsquo;s impartial enthusiasm for Bible classes and boxing
      matches. He questioned Dr. D. J. McCarthy, famous neurologist of the
      University of Pennsylvania, about mental diseases caused by war. He
      laughed heartily on hearing a limerick by Oliver Herford beginning: &ldquo;There
      was a young prince Hohenzollern,&rdquo; which was said to have delighted the
      British ambassador. Finally, he listened while Ned Atherton and Morris L.
      Parrish explained the fascination of <i>sniff</i>, a gambling game played
      with dominoes much in vogue at the Racquet Club. His Imperial Highness
      said he preferred the German game of <i>skat</i>, played with cards, and
      James P. McNichol, the Republican boss, made a note of this fact.
    </p>
    <p>
      As I passed through a gallery containing the magnificent Stotesbury
      collection of paintings I heard a resounding voice saying with a harsh
      German accent: &ldquo;Ach! I told you! Your form of government is a failure.
      People need a benevolent paternalism. There is no chance for military
      efficiency under a republic.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Turning, I recognised the stocky form of Commandant Price of the League
      Island navy yard, who was listening to a tirade from Admiral von Tirpitz.
      The latter, it seems, was marvelling that the United States naval
      authorities had lacked the intelligence to cut a 1,700-yard canal from the
      naval basin to the Delaware which would have made it impossible for the
      Germans to tie up the American reserve fleet by blocking the Schuylkill.
      This canal would also have furnished an ideal fresh-water dry-dock.
    </p>
    <p>
      Commandant Price had informed the admiral that this very plan, with an
      estimated cost of only three million dollars, had been repeatedly brought
      before Congress, but always unsuccessfully. In other words, it was no
      fault of the navy if these battleships were rendered useless. Whereupon
      von Tirpitz had burst forth with his attack upon representative
      government.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was told that the Crown Prince had intended to invite to this gathering
      some of the prominent women of Philadelphia, particularly one famous
      beauty, whom he desired to meet, but he was dissuaded from this purpose by
      a tactful hint that the ladies would not accept his invitation. The men
      might go, for reasons of expediency, but American women had no place at
      the feast of an invader.
    </p>
    <p>
      It happened, however, a few days later, that the Imperial wish was
      gratified, the occasion being an auction for the benefit of the American
      Red Cross Fund held one afternoon in the gold ballroom of the Ritz-Carlton
      Hotel. Tea was served with music by the Philadelphia orchestra under
      Leopold Stokowski and the tickets were five dollars.
    </p>
    <p>
      In a great crush (the gallery was reserved for German officers, including
      the Crown Prince) the most distinguished society women in Philadelphia
      stepped forth smilingly as manikins and displayed on their fair persons
      the hats, gowns, furs, laces or jewels that they had contributed to the
      sale. E. T. Stotesbury proved a very efficient auctioneer and large prices
      were realised.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mrs. G. G. Meade Large sold baskets of roses at twenty dollars each. Mrs.
      W. J. Clothier sold three hats for fifty dollars each. Mrs. Walter S.
      Thomson, said to be pro-German, sold a ball-gown for three hundred
      dollars. Mrs. E. T. Stotesbury sold one of her diamond tiaras for twenty
      thousand dollars. Mrs. Edward Crozer, Mrs. Horatio Gates Lloyd and Mrs.
      Norman MacLeod sold gowns for three hundred dollars each. Mrs. Harry Wain
      Harrison and Mrs. Robert von Moschzisker sold pieces of lace for a hundred
      dollars each.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mrs. A. J. Antelo Devereux, in smart riding costume, sold her fine hunter,
      led in amid great applause, for two thousand dollars. Mrs. George Q.
      Horwitz and Mrs. Robert L. Montgomery sold sets of furs for a thousand
      dollars each. Mrs. Barclay H. Warburton sold her imported touring-car for
      five thousand dollars. Mrs. Joseph E. Widener sold a set of four
      bracelets, one of diamonds, one of rubies, one of sapphires, one of
      emeralds, for fifteen thousand dollars.
    </p>
    <p>
      The sensation of the afternoon came at the close when Admiral von Tirpitz
      bought a coat of Russian sables offered by Mrs. John R. Fell for ten
      thousand dollars, this being followed by a purchase of the Crown Prince,
      who gave thirty thousand dollars for a rope of pearls belonging to Mrs. J.
      Kearsley Mitchell.
    </p>
    <p>
      All of this was briefly recorded in the Philadelphia <i>Press</i>, which
      had been made the official German organ with daily editions in German and
      English. The Crown Prince himself selected this paper, I was told, on
      learning that the author of one of his favourite stories, &ldquo;The Lady or the
      Tiger,&rdquo; by Frank R. Stockton, was once a reporter on the <i>Press</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      A few days later at the Wanamaker store on Chestnut Street the Crown
      Prince figured in an incident that became the subject of international
      comment and that throws a strange light upon the German character.
    </p>
    <p>
      It appears that the Crown Prince had become interested in an announcement
      of the Wanamaker store that half of its profits for one week, amounting to
      many thousands of dollars, would go to the relief of American soldiers
      wounded in battle. His Imperial Highness expressed a desire to visit the
      Wanamaker establishment, and arrived one afternoon at the hour of a widely
      advertised organ concert that had drawn great crowds. A special feature
      was to be the Lohengrin wedding march, during the playing of which seven
      prominent society women, acting on a charitable impulse, had consented to
      appear arrayed as bridesmaids and one of them as a bride.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Crown Prince and his staff, in brilliant uniforms, entered the vast
      rotunda packed with men and women, just as this interesting ceremony was
      beginning and took places reserved for them as conquerors, near the great
      bronze eagle on its granite pedestal that faces the spot where William H.
      Taft dedicated the building in December, 1911.
    </p>
    <p>
      A hush fell over the assembly as Dr. Irvin J. Morgan at his gilded height
      struck the inspiring chords, and a moment later the wedding procession
      entered, led by two white-clad pages, and moved slowly across the white
      gallery, Mrs. Angier B. Duke (dressed as the bride), Mrs. Victor C.
      Mather, Mrs. A. J. Drexel Biddle, Jr., Mrs. Gurnee Munn, Mrs. Oliver E.
      Cromwell, Miss Eleanor B. Hopkins and Mrs. George Wharton Pepper, Jr., a
      tall and willowy auburn beauty and a bride herself only a few months
      before, while Wagner&rsquo;s immortal tones pealed through the marble arches.
    </p>
    <p>
      As the music ceased one of the German officers, in accordance with a
      prearranged plan, nodded to his aides, who stepped forward and spread a
      German flag over the American eagle. At the same moment the officer waved
      his hand towards the organ loft, as a signal for Dr. Morgan to obey his
      instructions and play &ldquo;The Watch on the Rhine.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The crowd knew what was coming and waited in sickening silence, then
      gasped in amazement and joy as the organ gloriously sounded forth, &ldquo;My
      Country, &lsquo;Tis of Thee.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Stop!&rdquo; shouted the Prussian, purple with rage. &ldquo;Stop!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      But Irvin Morgan played on like a good American, thrilling the great
      audience with the treasured message:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Sweet land of Liberty, Of Thee I sing.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      At this moment a little fellow seven years old, from Caniden, N. J., in
      boy-scout uniform, did a thing that will live in American history. He had
      been taught to rise when he heard that music and sing the dear words that
      his mother had taught him, and he could not understand why all these
      Americans were silent. Why didn&rsquo;t they sing? He looked about him
      anxiously. He had seen those Prussian officers spread the German flag over
      the American eagle, and it suddenly flashed into his mind that it was his
      business to do something. He must tear down that hateful flag. He must do
      it if he died and, springing forward before any one could divine his
      purpose, he dragged the German banner to the floor and, standing on it,
      waved a little American flag drawn from his pocket.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Land where my fathers died, Land of the Pilgrims&rsquo; pride!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He shrilled out, singing all alone while the proud organ thundered forth
      its accompaniment.
    </p>
    <p>
      As a match starts the powder train so this boyish act fired the whole
      gathering of dumb patriots and straightway, Germans or no Germans, ten
      thousand American voices took up the words while the youthful leader, with
      eyes flashing, held up the Stars and Stripes there by the eagle.
    </p>
    <p>
      A German officer, furious at this defiance, sprang toward the boy with
      lifted sword and would have struck him down had not his Imperial master
      intervened and with his own weapon caught the descending blow.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Shame! Coward!&rdquo; cried the Crown Prince. &ldquo;We do not fight with children.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      And the end of it was that no one was punished, although concerts were
      forbidden after this in the Wanamaker store.
    </p>
    <p>
      I have related this incident not only for its own sake, but because of its
      bearing on subsequent events.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m going to write a story about that boy&rdquo;, I said to W. Barran Lewis,
      who stood near me. &ldquo;Do you know his name?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said the editor. &ldquo;He is Lemuel A. Widding, Jr. Makes a good story,
      doesn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Lemuel A. Widding! Where had I heard that name? Suddenly I remembered&mdash;Kingston,
      Jamaica, and Lieutenant Ryerson and the lovely girl who had told me about
      her brother&rsquo;s ravings. That was the name he had called out again and again
      in his delirium. Lemuel A. Widding!
    </p>
    <p>
      In spite of my interest in this puzzling circumstance I was unable to
      investigate it, owing to the fact that I was hurried off to Mount Vernon
      for the Peace Conference, but I wired Miss Ryerson in Richmond of my
      discovery and gave her the boy&rsquo;s address in Camden, N. J. Then I thought
      no more about the matter, being absorbed in my duties.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVI. &mdash; AN AMERICAN GIRL BRINGS NEWS THAT CHANGES THE COURSE
      OF THE MOUNT VERNON PEACE CONFERENCE
    </h2>
    <p>
      The sessions of the Mount Vernon Peace Congress were held in a large room
      of the historic mansion that was George Washington&rsquo;s business office. The
      United States was represented by General Leonard Wood, William H. Taft and
      Elihu Root; Germany by General von Hindenburg, General von Kluck and Count
      von Bernstoff.
    </p>
    <p>
      Although I was not personally present at these discussions I am able,
      thanks to the standing of the London <i>Times</i>, to set forth the main
      points on the highest authority.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the very first session the peace commissioners came straight to the
      main question.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I am instructed by the President of the United States,&rdquo; began General
      Wood, &ldquo;to ask your Excellency if the German Imperial Government will agree
      to withdraw their armies from America in consideration of receiving a
      money indemnity?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; replied General von Hindenburg. &ldquo;That is quite out of the
      question.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      {Illustration: GERMAN GUNS DESTROY THE HOTEL TAFT.}
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;A large indemnity? I am empowered to offer three thousand million
      dollars, which is three times as much, your Excellency will remember, as
      the Imperial German Government accepted for withdrawing from France in
      1870.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes, and we always regretted it,&rdquo; snapped von Hindenburg. &ldquo;We should have
      kept that territory, or part of it. We are going to keep this territory.
      That was our original intention in coming here. We need this Atlantic
      seaboard for the extension of the German idea, for the spread of German
      civilisation, for our inevitable expansion as the great world power.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Suppose we agreed to pay four billion dollars?&rdquo; suggested the American
      commander.
    </p>
    <p>
      Von Hindenburg shook his head and then in his rough, positive way: &ldquo;No,
      General. What we have taken by our victorious arms we shall hold for our
      children and our grandchildren. I am instructed to say, however, that the
      Imperial German Government will make one important concession to the
      United States. We will withdraw our troops from the mouths of the
      Mississippi which we now hold, as you know; we will withdraw from
      Galveston, New Orleans, Pensacola, Tampa, Key West; in short, from all
      ports in the Gulf of Mexico and in Florida. If you will allow me,
      gentlemen, I will show you on this map what we propose to surrender to you
      and what we propose to keep.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The venerable Field Marshal unrolled upon the broad surface of George
      Washington&rsquo;s desk a beautifully shaded relief map of the United States,
      and General Wood, ex-President Taft and Elihu Root bent over it with tense
      faces and studied a heavy black line that indicated the proposed boundary
      between the United States and the territory claimed by the invaders. This
      latter included all of New England, about one-third of New York and
      Pennsylvania (the southeastern portions), all of New Jersey and Delaware,
      nearly all of Virginia and North Carolina and all of South Carolina and
      Georgia.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You observe, gentlemen,&rdquo; said von Hindenburg, &ldquo;that our American province
      is to bear the name New Germany. It is bounded on the north by Canada, on
      the east by the Atlantic Ocean, on the south by Florida, and on the west
      by Alabama and the Allegheny Mountains. It is a strip of land; roughly
      speaking, a thousand miles long and two hundred miles wide.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;About the area of the German Empire,&rdquo; said ex-President Taft.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Possibly, but not one-tenth of the entire territory of the United States,
      leaving out Alaska. We feel that as conquerors we are asking little
      enough.&rdquo; He eyed the Americans keenly.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You are asking us to give up New York, Philadelphia and Washington and
      all of New England,&rdquo; said Elihu Root very quietly. &ldquo;Does your Excellency
      realise what that means to us? New England is the cradle of our liberties.
      New York is the heart of the nation. Washington is our capital.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Washington <i>was</i> your capital,&rdquo; broke in General von Kluck, with a
      laugh.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I can assure your Excellency,&rdquo; said General Wood, keeping his composure
      with an effort, &ldquo;that the American people will never consent to such a
      sacrifice of territory. You may drive us back to the deserts of Arizona,
      you may drive us back to the Rocky Mountains, but we will fight on.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Von Hindenburg&rsquo;s eyes narrowed dangerously. &ldquo;Ah, so!&rdquo; he smiled grimly.
      &ldquo;Do you know what will happen if you refuse our terms? In the next few
      months we shall land expeditions from Germany with a million more
      soldiers. That will give us a million and a half men on American soil. We
      shall then invade the Mississippi Valley from New Orleans, and our next
      offer of terms will be made to you from St. Louis or Chicago, <i>and it
      will be a very different offer</i>.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;If your Excellency will allow me,&rdquo; said Elihu Root in a conciliatory
      tone, &ldquo;may I ask if the Imperial German Government does not recognise that
      there will be great difficulties in the way of permanently holding a strip
      of land along our Atlantic seaboard?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What difficulties? England holds Canada, doesn&rsquo;t she? Spain held Mexico,
      did she not?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;But the Mexicans were willing to be held. Your Excellency must realise
      that in New England, in New York, in New Jersey, you would be dealing with
      irreconcilable hatred.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Nothing is irreconcilable. Look at Belgium. They hated us in 1915, did
      they not? But sixty-five percent of them accepted German citizenship when
      we offered it to them after the peace in 1919, and they have been a
      well-behaved German province ever since.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You mean to say that New England would ever become a German province?&rdquo;
       protested William H. Taft. &ldquo;Do you think that New York and Virginia will
      ever take the oath of allegiance to the German Emperor?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Of course they will, just as most of the Spaniards you conquered in the
      Philippine Islands took the oath of allegiance to America. They swore they
      would not but they did. Men follow the laws of necessity. Half of your
      population are of foreign descent. Millions of them are of German descent.
      These people crowded over here from Europe because they were starving and
      you have kept them starving. They will come to us because we treat them
      better; we give them higher wages, cleaner homes, more happiness. They <i>have</i>
      come to us already; the figures prove it. Not ten percent of the people of
      New York and New England have moved away since the German occupation,
      although they were free to go. Why is that? Because they like our form of
      government, they see that it insures to them and their children the
      benefits of a higher civilisation.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      My informant assured me that at this point ex-President Taft, in spite of
      his even temper, almost exploded with indignation, while General Wood rose
      abruptly from his seat.
    </p>
    <p>
      For a time it looked as if this first Peace Conference session would break
      up in a storm of angry recrimination; but Elihu Root, by tactful appeals,
      finally smoothed things over and an adjournment was taken for forty-eight
      hours, during which it was agreed that both sides, by telegraph and cable,
      should lay the situation before their respective governments in Chicago
      and Berlin.
    </p>
    <p>
      I remained at Mount Vernon for two weeks while the truce lasted. Every day
      the peace commissioners met for hours of argument and pleading, but the
      deadlock of conflicting purposes was not broken. Both sides kept in touch
      with their governments and both made concessions. America raised her
      indemnity offer to five billion dollars, to six billion dollars, to seven
      billion dollars, but declared she would never surrender one foot of the
      Atlantic seaboard. Germany lessened her demands for territory, but refused
      to withdraw from New York, New England and Philadelphia.
    </p>
    <p>
      For some days this deadlock continued, then America began to weaken. She
      felt herself overpowered. The consequences of continuing the war were too
      frightful to contemplate and, on September 8, I cabled my paper that the
      United States would probably cede to Germany within twenty-four hours the
      whole of New England and a part of New York State, including New York City
      and Long Island. This was the general opinion when, suddenly, out of a
      clear sky came a dramatic happening destined to change the course of
      events and draw me personally into a whirlpool of exciting adventures.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was about three o&rsquo;clock in the afternoon of September 9, a blazing hot
      day, and I was seated on the lawn under one of the fine magnolia-trees
      presented years before by Prince Henry of Prussia, wondering how much
      longer I must swelter here before getting off my despatch to the <i>Times</i>,
      when I heard the panting of a swiftly approaching automobile which
      presently drew up outside the grounds. A moment later a coloured chauffeur
      approached and asked if I was Mr. James Langston. I told him I was, and he
      said a lady in the car wanted to speak to me.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;A lady?&rdquo; I asked in surprise. &ldquo;Did she give her name?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The chauffeur broke into a beaming smile. &ldquo;She didn&rsquo;t give no name, boss,
      but she sure is a ve&rsquo;hy handsome lady, an&rsquo; she&rsquo;s powh&rsquo;ful anxious to see
      you.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I lost no time in answering this mysterious summons, and a little later
      found myself in the presence of a young woman whom I recognised, when she
      drew aside her veil, as Miss Mary Ryerson, sister of Lieutenant Randolph
      Ryerson. With her in the car were her brother and a tall, gaunt man with
      deep-set eyes. They were all travel-stained, and the car showed the
      battering of Virginia mountain roads.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Oh, Mr. Langston,&rdquo; cried the girl eagerly, &ldquo;we have such wonderful news!
      The conference isn&rsquo;t over? They haven&rsquo;t yielded to Germany?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;No,&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;Not yet.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They mustn&rsquo;t yield. We have news that changes everything. Oh, it&rsquo;s so
      splendid! America is going to win.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Her lovely face was glowing with enthusiasm, but I shook my head.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;America&rsquo;s fleet is destroyed. Her army is beaten. How can she win?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Miss Ryerson turned to her brother and to the other man. &ldquo;Go with Mr.
      Langston. Tell him everything. Explain everything. He will take you to
      General Wood.&rdquo; She fixed her radiant eyes on me. &ldquo;You will help us? I can
      count on you? Remember, it&rsquo;s for America!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll do my best,&rdquo; I promised, yielding to the spell of her charm and
      spirit. &ldquo;May I ask&mdash;&rdquo; I glanced at the tall man who was getting out
      of the car.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ah! Now you will believe. You will see how God is guiding us. This is the
      father of the brave little boy in Wanamaker&rsquo;s store. He has seen Thomas A.
      Edison, and Mr. Edison says his plan to destroy the German fleet is
      absolutely sound. Mr. Langston, Mr. Lemuel A. Widding. Now hurry!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVII. &mdash; THOMAS A. EDISON MAKES A SERIOUS MISTAKE IN
      ACCEPTING A DINNER INVITATION
    </h2>
    <p>
      As General Wood left the peace conference (in reply to our urgent summons)
      and walked slowly across the Mount Vernon lawn to join us in the summer
      house, he looked haggard and dejected.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What is it?&rdquo; he asked.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Good news, General,&rdquo; I whispered, but he shook his head wearily.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;No, it&rsquo;s all over. They have worn us down. Our fleet is destroyed, our
      army is beaten. We are on the point of ceding New England and New York to
      Germany. There is nothing else to do.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Wait! We have information that may change everything. Let me introduce
      Lieutenant Ryerson and Mr. Widding&mdash;General Wood.&rdquo; They bowed
      politely. &ldquo;Mr. Widding has just seen Thomas A. Edison.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      That was a name to conjure with, and the General&rsquo;s face brightened.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m listening,&rdquo; he said.
    </p>
    <p>
      We settled back in our chairs and Lemuel A. Widding, with awkward
      movements, drew from his pockets some papers which he offered to the
      American commander.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;These speak for themselves, General,&rdquo; he began. &ldquo;Here is a brief
      description of my invention for destroying the German fleet. Here are
      blueprints that make it clearer. Here is the written endorsement of Thomas
      A. Edison.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      For a long time General Wood studied these papers with close attention,
      then he sat silent, looking out over the broad Potomac, his noble face
      stern with care. I saw that his hair had whitened noticeably in the last
      two months.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;If this is true, it&rsquo;s more important than you realise. It&rsquo;s so important
      that&mdash;&rdquo; He searched us with his kind but keen grey eyes.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Thomas A. Edison says it&rsquo;s true,&rdquo; put in Widding. &ldquo;That ought to be good
      enough evidence.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;And Lieutenant Ryerson tells me that Admiral Fletcher spoke favourably of
      the matter,&rdquo; I added.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;He did, General,&rdquo; declared the lieutenant. &ldquo;It was on the <i>Pennsylvania</i>
      a few hours before we went into battle. The admiral had been looking over
      Mr. Widding&rsquo;s specifications the night before and he said&mdash;I remember
      his words: &lsquo;This is a great idea. If we had it in operation now we could
      destroy the German fleet.&rsquo;&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      At this moment there came a fateful interruption in the form of an urgent
      call for General Wood from the conference hall and he asked us to excuse
      him until the next day when he would take the matter up seriously.
    </p>
    <p>
      We returned at once to Washington and I spent that evening at the Cosmos
      Club listening to a lecture by my oceanographical friend, Dr. Austin H.
      Clark, on deep-sea lilies that eat meat. At about nine o&rsquo;clock I was
      called to the telephone, and presently recognised the agitated voice of
      Miss Ryerson, who said that an extraordinary thing had happened and begged
      me to come to her at once. She was stopping at the Shoreham, just across
      the street, and five minutes later we were talking earnestly in the
      spacious blue-and-white salon with its flowers and restful lights.
      Needless to say, I preferred a talk with this beautiful girl to the most
      learned discussion of deep-sea lilies.
    </p>
    <p>
      Her message was brief but important. She had just been telephoning in a
      drug-store on Pennsylvania Avenue when she was surprised to hear the name
      of Thomas A. Edison mentioned several times by a man in the next booth who
      was speaking in German. Miss Ryerson understood German and, listening
      attentively, she made out enough to be sure that an enemy&rsquo;s plot was on
      foot to lay hold of the great inventor, to abduct him forcibly, so that he
      could no longer help the work of American defence.
    </p>
    <p>
      Greatly alarmed she had called me up and now urged me to warn the military
      authorities, without wasting a moment, so that they would take steps to
      protect Mr. Edison.
    </p>
    <p>
      In this emergency I decided to appeal to General E.M. Weaver, Chief of
      Coast Artillery, whom I knew from having played golf with him at Chevy
      Chase, and, after telephoning, I hurried to his house in a taxicab. The
      general looked grave when I repeated Miss Ryerson&rsquo;s story, and said that
      this accorded with other reports of German underground activities that had
      come to his knowledge. Of course, a guard must be furnished for Mr.
      Edison, who was in Baltimore at the time, working out plans for the
      scientific defences of Washington in the physical laboratories of the
      Johns Hopkins University.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I must talk with Edison,&rdquo; said the General. &ldquo;Suppose you go to Baltimore
      in the morning, Mr. Langston, with a note from me. It&rsquo;s only forty-five
      minutes and&mdash;tell Mr. Edison that I will be greatly relieved if he
      will return to Washington with you.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I had interviewed Thomas A. Edison on several occasions and gained his
      confidence, so that he received me cordially the next morning in Baltimore
      and, in deference to General Weaver&rsquo;s desire, agreed to run down to
      Washington that afternoon, although he laughed at the idea of any danger.
    </p>
    <p>
      As we rode on the train the inventor talked freely of plans for defending
      the national capital against General von Mackensen&rsquo;s army which, having
      occupied Richmond, was moving up slowly through Virginia. It is a matter
      of familiar history now that these plans provided for the use of liquid
      chlorine against the invaders, this dangerous substance to be dropped upon
      the advancing army from a fleet of powerful aeroplanes. Mr. Edison seemed
      hopeful of the outcome.
    </p>
    <p>
      He questioned me about Lemuel A. Widding and was interested to learn that
      Widding was employed at the works of the Victor Talking Machine (Edison&rsquo;s
      own invention) in Camden, N. J. His eyes brightened when I told him of
      young Lemuel&rsquo;s thrilling act at Wanamaker&rsquo;s Philadelphia store which, as I
      now explained, led to the meeting of the two inventors through the efforts
      of Miss Ryerson.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s something queer about this,&rdquo; mused the famous electrician.
      &ldquo;Widding tells me he submitted his idea to the Navy Department over a year
      ago. Think of that! An idea bigger than the submarine!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Is it possible?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;No doubt of it. Widding&rsquo;s invention will change the condition of naval
      warfare&mdash;it&rsquo;s bound to. I wouldn&rsquo;t give five cents for the German
      fleet when we get this thing working. All we need is time.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Mr. Langston, there are some big surprises ahead for the American people
      and for the Germans,&rdquo; continued the inventor. &ldquo;They say America is as
      helpless as Belgium or China. I say nonsense. It&rsquo;s true that we have lost
      our fleet and some of our big cities and that the Germans have three
      armies on our soil, but the fine old qualities of American grit and
      American resourcefulness are still here and we&rsquo;ll use &lsquo;em. If we can&rsquo;t win
      battles in the old way, we&rsquo;ll find new ways.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Listen to this, my friend. Have you heard of the Committee of Twenty-one?
      No? Very few have. It&rsquo;s a body of rich and patriotic Americans, big
      business men, who made up their minds, back in July, that the government
      wasn&rsquo;t up to the job of saving this nation. So they decided to save it
      themselves by business methods, efficiency methods. There&rsquo;s a lot of
      nonsense talked about German efficiency. We&rsquo;ll show them a few things
      about American efficiency. What made the United States the greatest and
      richest country in the world? Was it German efficiency? What gave the
      Standard Oil Company its world supremacy? Was it German efficiency? It was
      the American brains of John D. Rockefeller, wasn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Is Mr. Rockefeller one of the Committee of Twenty-one?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Of course, he is, and so are Andrew Carnegie, James J. Hill, J. P.
      Morgan, John Wanamaker, John H. Fahey, James B. Duke, Henry B. Joy, Daniel
      B. Guggenheim, John D. Ryan, J. B. Widener, Emerson McMillin, Philip D.
      Armour, Cornelius Vanderbilt, Elihu Root, George W. Perkins, Asa G.
      Candler and two or three others, including myself.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The Germans are getting over the idea that America is as helpless as
      Belgium or China. Von Mackensen is going slow, holding back his army
      because he doesn&rsquo;t know what we have up our sleeve at the Potomac. As a
      matter of fact, we have mighty little except this liquid chlorine and&mdash;well,
      we&rsquo;re having trouble with the steel containers and with the releasing
      device.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You mean the device that drops the containers from the aeroplanes?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s it. We need time to perfect the thing. We&rsquo;ve spread fake reports
      about wonderful electric mines that will blow up a brigade, and that
      helped some, and we delayed von Mackensen for two weeks south of
      Fredericksburg by spreading lines of striped cheese-cloth, miles of it,
      along a rugged valley. His aeroplane scouts couldn&rsquo;t make out what that
      cheese-cloth was for; they thought it might be some new kind of
      electrocution storage battery, so the whole army waited.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      As we talked, the train stopped at Hyattsville, a few miles out of
      Washington, and a well-set-up officer in uniform came aboard and
      approached us with a pleasant smile.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Mr. Edison? I am Captain Campbell of General Wood&rsquo;s staff,&rdquo; he said.
      &ldquo;General Wood is outside in his automobile and asks you to join him. The
      General thought it would be pleasanter to motor down to Mount Vernon.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s very kind,&rdquo; said Edison, rising.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;And, Mr. Langston,&rdquo; continued Captain Campbell, addressing me, &ldquo;General
      Wood presents his compliments and hopes you will dine with Mr. Edison and
      himself at seven this evening.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;With pleasure.&rdquo; I bowed and watched them as, they left the train and
      entered a military-looking automobile that stood near the track with
      curtains drawn. A moment later they rolled away and I settled back in my
      seat, reflecting complacently on the high confidence that had been shown
      in my discretion.
    </p>
    <p>
      Two hours later I reached Mount Vernon and was surprised, as I left the
      train, to find General Wood himself waiting on the platform.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You got back quickly, General,&rdquo; I said.
    </p>
    <p>
      He gave me a sharp glance. &ldquo;Back from where?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why, from where you met our train.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Your train? What train? I came here to meet Mr. Edison.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;But you did meet him&mdash;two hours ago&mdash;in your automobile&mdash;at
      Hyattsville.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The general stared in amazement. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what you are talking about.
      I haven&rsquo;t left Mount Vernon. I haven&rsquo;t seen Mr. Edison. What has happened?
      Tell me!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Wait!&rdquo; I said, as the truth began to break on me. &ldquo;Is there a Captain
      Campbell on your staff?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He shook his head. &ldquo;No.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Then&mdash;then&mdash;&rdquo; I was trying to piece together the evidence.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Well? Go on!&rdquo; he urged impatiently, whereupon I related the events of the
      morning.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Good Lord!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s an abduction&mdash;unquestionably. This
      Captain Campbell was a German spy. You say the automobile curtains were
      drawn? That made it dark inside, and no doubt the pretended General Wood
      wore motor goggles. Before Edison discovered the trick they were off at
      full speed and he was overpowered on the back seat. Think of that! Thomas
      A. Edison abducted by the Germans!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why would they do such a thing?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why? Don&rsquo;t you see? That invention of Widding&rsquo;s will destroy the German
      fleet. It&rsquo;s a matter of life and death to them and Edison knows all about
      it&mdash;all the details&mdash;Widding told him.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;My friend Miss Ryerson brought Widding to Mr. Edison a few
      days ago, but&mdash;how could the Germans have known that?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The general&rsquo;s face darkened. &ldquo;How do they know all sorts of things?
      Somebody tells them. Somebody told them this.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;But Widding himself knows all about his own invention. It won&rsquo;t do the
      Germans any good to abduct Edison unless&mdash;&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Our eyes met in sudden alarm.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;By George, you&rsquo;re right!&rdquo; exclaimed Wood.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Where is Widding? Is he stopping at your hotel?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes. We&rsquo;re all there, Miss Ryerson and her brother and Widding and I.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Call up the hotel&mdash;quick. We must know about this.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      A minute later I had Miss Ryerson on the &lsquo;phone and as soon as I heard her
      voice I knew that something was wrong.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What does she say?&rdquo; asked the general anxiously, as I hung up the
      receiver.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;She is very much distressed. She says Widding and her brother disappeared
      from the hotel last night and no one has any idea where they are.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Here were startling happenings and the developments were even more
      startling, but, before following these threads of mystery (days passed and
      they were still unravelled) I must set forth events that immediately
      succeeded the rupture of peace negotiations. I have reason to know that
      the Committee of Twenty-one brought pressure upon our peace commissioners,
      through Washington and the public press, with the result that their
      attitude stiffened towards the enemy and presently became almost defiant,
      so that on October 2, 1921, all efforts towards peace were abandoned. And
      on October 3 it was officially announced that the United States and
      Germany were again at war.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XVIII. &mdash; I WITNESS THE BATTLE OF THE SUSQUEHANNA FROM
      VINCENT ASTOR&rsquo;S AEROPLANE
    </h2>
    <p>
      During the next week, in the performance of my newspaper duties, I visited
      Washington and Baltimore, both of these cities being now in imminent
      danger of attack, the latter from von Hindenburg&rsquo;s army south of
      Philadelphia, the former from the newly landed German expedition that was
      encamped on the shores of Chesapeake Bay near Norfolk, Virginia, which was
      already occupied by the enemy.
    </p>
    <p>
      I found a striking contrast between the psychology of Washington and that
      of Baltimore. The national capital, abandoned by its government, awaited
      in dull despair the arrival of the conquerors with no thought of
      resistance, but Baltimore was girding up her loins to fight. Washington,
      burned by the British in 1812, had learned her lesson, but Baltimore had
      never known the ravages of an invader. Proudest of southern cities, she
      now made ready to stand against the Germans. Let New York and Boston and
      Philadelphia surrender, if they pleased, Baltimore would not surrender.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the night of my arrival in the Monumental City, September 15, I found
      bonfires blazing and crowds thronging the streets. There was to be a great
      mass meeting at the Fifth Regiment Armoury, and I shall never forget the
      scene as I stood on Hoffman Street with my friend F. R. Kent, Editor of
      the Baltimore <i>Sun</i>, and watched the multitude press within the
      fortress-like walls. This huge grey building had seen excitement before,
      as when Wilson and Bryan triumphed here at the Democratic convention of
      1912, but nothing like this.
    </p>
    <p>
      As far as I could see down Bolton Street and Hoffman Street were dense
      crowds cheering frantically as troops of the Maryland National Guard
      marched past with crashing bands, the famous &ldquo;Fighting Fourth&rdquo; (how the
      crowd cheered them!), the &ldquo;Dandy Fifth,&rdquo; Baltimore&rsquo;s particular pride,
      then the First Regiment, then the First Separate Company, coloured
      infantry and finally the crack cavalry &ldquo;Troop A&rdquo; on their black horses,
      led by Captain John C. Cockey, of whom it was said that he could make his
      big hunter, Belvedere, climb the side of a house.
    </p>
    <p>
      The immense auditorium, gay with flags and national emblems, was packed to
      its capacity of 20,000, and I felt a real thrill when, after a prayer by
      Cardinal Gibbons, a thousand school girls, four abreast and all in white,
      the little ones first, moved slowly up the three aisles to seats in front,
      singing &ldquo;Onward Christian Soldiers,&rdquo; with the Fifth Regiment band leading
      them.
    </p>
    <p>
      Gathered on the platform were the foremost citizens of Baltimore, the
      ablest men in Maryland, including Mayor J. H. Preston, Douglas Thomas,
      Frank A. Furst, U. S. Senator John Walter Smith, Hon. J. Charles
      Linthicum, ex-Gov. Edwin Warfield, Col. Ral Parr, John W. Frick, John M.
      Dennis, Douglas H. Gordon, John E. Hurst, Franklin P. Cator, Capt. I. E.
      Emerson, Hon. Wm. Carter Page, Hon. Charles T. Crane, George C. Jenkins,
      C. Wilbur Miller, Howell B. Griswold, Jr., George May, Edwin J. Farber,
      Maurice H. Grape, Col. Washington Bowie, Jr., and Robert Garrett.
    </p>
    <p>
      Announcement was made by General Alexander Brown that fifty thousand
      volunteers from Baltimore and the vicinity had already joined the colours
      and were in mobilisation camps at Halethrope and Pimlico and at the Glen
      Burnie rifle range. Also that the Bessemer Steel Company of Baltimore, the
      Maryland Steel Company, the great cotton mills and canneries, were working
      night and day, turning out shrapnel, shell casings, uniforms, belts,
      bandages and other munitions of war, all to be furnished without a cent of
      profit. Furthermore, the banks and trust companies of Baltimore had raised
      fifty million dollars for immediate needs of the defence with more to
      come.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s the kind of indemnity Baltimore offers to the Germans,&rdquo; cried
      General Brown.
    </p>
    <p>
      Speeches attacking the plan of campaign and the competency of military
      leaders were made by Charles J. Bonaparte, Leigh Bonsal and Henry W.
      Williams, but their words availed nothing against the prevailing wild
      enthusiasm.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Baltimore has never been taken by an enemy,&rdquo; shouted ex-Governor
      Goldsborough, &ldquo;and she will not be taken now. Our army is massed and
      entrenched along the south bank of the Susquehanna and, mark my words, the
      Germans will never pass that line.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      As these patriotic words rang out the thousand white-clad singers rose and
      lifted their voices in &ldquo;The Star Spangled Banner,&rdquo; dearest of patriotic
      hymns in Baltimore because it was a Baltimore man, Francis Scott Key, who
      wrote it.
    </p>
    <p>
      While the great meeting was still in session, a large German airship
      appeared over Baltimore&rsquo;s lower basin and, circling slowly at the height
      of half a mile, proceeded to carry out its mission of frightfulness
      against the helpless city. More than fifty bombs were dropped that night
      with terrific explosions. The noble shaft of the Washington Monument was
      shattered. The City Hall was destroyed, also the Custom House, the
      Richmond Market, the Walters Art Gallery, one of the buildings of the
      Johns Hopkins Hospital, with a score of killed and wounded, and the
      cathedral with fifty killed and wounded.
    </p>
    <p>
      The whole country was stirred to its depths by this outrage. Angry orators
      appeared at every street corner, and volunteers stormed the enlisting
      offices. Within twenty-four hours the business men of Baltimore raised
      another hundred millions for the city&rsquo;s defence. Baltimore, never
      conquered yet, was going to fight harder than ever.
    </p>
    <p>
      The great question now was how soon the Germans would begin their drive.
      We knew that the Virginia expedition under General von Mackensen had
      advanced up the peninsula and had taken Richmond, but every day our
      aeroplane scouts reported General von Hindenburg&rsquo;s forces as still
      stationary south of Philadelphia. Their strategy seemed to be one of
      waiting until the two armies could strike simultaneously against
      Washington from the southeast and against Baltimore from the northeast. On
      the ninth of October this moment seemed to have arrived, and we learned
      that von Hindenburg, with a hundred thousand men, was advancing towards
      the Susquehanna in a line that would take him straight to the Maryland
      metropolis. A two days&rsquo; march beyond the river would give the enemy sight
      of the towers of Baltimore, and how the city had the slightest chance of
      successful resistance was more than I could understand.
    </p>
    <p>
      I come now to the battle of the Susquehanna, which my lucky star allowed
      me to witness in spite of positive orders that war correspondents should
      not approach the American lines. This happened through the friendship of
      Vincent Astor, who once more volunteered his machine and his own services
      in the scouting aeroplane corps. I may add that Mr. Astor had offered his
      entire fortune, if needed, to equip the nation with the mightiest air
      force in the world; and that already four thousand craft of various types
      were in process of construction. With some difficulty, Mr. Astor obtained
      permission that I accompany him on the express condition that I publish no
      word touching military operations until after the battle.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the morning of October 10th we made our first flight, rising from the
      aerodrome in Druid Hill Park and speeding to the northeast, skirting the
      shores of Chesapeake Bay. Within half an hour the broad Susquehanna, with
      its wrecked bridges, lay before us and to the left, on the heights of Port
      Deposit, we made out the American artillery positions with the main army
      encamped below. Along the southern bank of the river we saw thousands of
      American soldiers deepening and widening trenches that had been shallowed
      out by a score of trench digging machines, huge locomotive ploughs that
      lumbered along, leaving yellow ditches behind them. There were miles of
      these ditches cutting through farms and woods, past windmills and red
      barns and rolling wheat fields, stretching away to the northwest, parallel
      to the river.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They&rsquo;ve done a lot of work here,&rdquo; said I, impressed by the extent of
      these operations.
    </p>
    <p>
      Astor answered with a smile that puzzled me. &ldquo;They have done more than you
      dream of, more than any one dreams of,&rdquo; he said.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t imagine these trenches are going to stop the Germans, do you?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He nodded slowly. &ldquo;Perhaps.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;But we had trenches like these at Trenton and you know what happened,&rdquo; I
      objected.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I know, but&mdash;&rdquo; again that mysterious smile, &ldquo;those Trenton trenches
      were not exactly like these trenches. Hello! They&rsquo;re signalling to us.
      They want to know who we are.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      In reply to orders wig-wagged up to us from headquarters in a white
      farmhouse, we flung forth our identification streamers, blue, white and
      red arranged in code to form an aerial passport, and received a wave of
      approval in reply.
    </p>
    <p>
      As we swung to the northwest, moving parallel to the river and about four
      miles back of it, I studied with my binoculars the trenches that stretched
      along beneath us in straight lines and zigzags as far as the eye could
      see. I was familiar with such constructions, having studied them on
      various fields; here was the firing trench, here the shelter trench and
      there the communicating galleries that joined them, but what were those
      groups of men working so busily farther down the line? And those other
      groups swarming at many points in the wide area? They were not digging or
      bracing side-wall timbers. What were they doing?
    </p>
    <p>
      I had the wheel at this moment and, in my curiosity, I turned the machine
      to the east, forgetting Mr. Astor&rsquo;s admonition that we were not allowed to
      pass the rear line of trenches.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Hold on! This is forbidden!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll get in trouble.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Before I could act upon his warning, there came a puff of white smoke from
      one of the batteries and a moment later a shell, bursting about two
      hundred yards in front of us, made its message clear.
    </p>
    <p>
      We turned at once and, after some further manoeuvring, sailed back to
      Baltimore.
    </p>
    <p>
      We dined together that night and I tried to get from Mr. Astor a key to
      the mystery that evidently lay behind this situation at the Susquehanna.
      At first he was unwilling to speak, but, finally, in view of our
      friendship and his confidence in my discretion, he gave me a forecast of
      events to come.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You mustn&rsquo;t breathe this to a soul,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and, of course, you
      mustn&rsquo;t write a word of it, but the fact is, dear boy, the wonderful fact
      is we&rsquo;re going to win the battle of the Susquehanna.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I shook my head. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d give all I&rsquo;ve got in the world to have that true,
      Mr. Astor, but von Hindenburg is marching against us with 150,000 men,
      first-class fighting men.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I know, and we have only 60,000 men, most of them raw recruits. Just the
      same, von Hindenburg hasn&rsquo;t a chance on earth.&rdquo; He paused and added
      quickly: &ldquo;Except one.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;One?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;If the enemy suspected the trap we have set for them, they could avoid
      it, but they won&rsquo;t suspect it. It&rsquo;s absolutely new.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;How about their aeroplane scouts? Won&rsquo;t they see the trap?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They can&rsquo;t see it, at least not enough to understand it. General Wood
      turned us back this afternoon as a precaution, but it wasn&rsquo;t necessary.
      You might have circled over those trenches for hours and I don&rsquo;t believe
      you would have known what&rsquo;s going on there. Besides, the work will be
      finished and everything hidden in a couple of days.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I spurred my imagination, searching for agencies of destruction, and
      mentioned hidden mines, powerful electric currents, deadly gases, but
      Astor shook his head.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s worse than that, much worse. And it isn&rsquo;t one of those fantastic
      things from Mars that H. G. Wells would put in a novel. This will work.
      It&rsquo;s a practical, businesslike way of destroying an army.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What? An entire army?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes. There&rsquo;s an area on this side of the Susquehanna about five miles
      square that is ready for the Germans&mdash;plenty of room for a hundred
      thousand of them&mdash;and, believe me, not one man in ten will get out of
      that area alive.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I stared incredulously as my friend went on with increasing positiveness:
      &ldquo;I know what I&rsquo;m saying. I&rsquo;ll tell you how I know it in a minute. This
      thing has never been done before in the whole history of war and it will
      never be done again, but it&rsquo;s going to be done now.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why will it never be done again?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Because the conditions will never be right again. Armies will be
      suspicious after one has been wiped out, but the first time it&rsquo;s
      possible.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;How can you be sure von Hindenburg&rsquo;s army will cross the Susquehanna at
      the exact place where you want it to cross?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They will cross at the clearly indicated place for crossing, won&rsquo;t they?
      That&rsquo;s where we have set our trap, five miles wide, on the direct line
      between Philadelphia and Baltimore. They can&rsquo;t cross lower down because
      the river swells into Chesapeake Bay, and if they cross higher up they
      simply go out of their way. Why should they? They&rsquo;re not afraid to meet
      Leonard Wood&rsquo;s little army, are they? They&rsquo;ll come straight across the
      river and then&mdash;good-night.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      This was as near as I could get to an understanding of the mystery. Astor
      would tell me no more, although he knew I would die rather than betray the
      secret.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You might talk in your sleep,&rdquo; he laughed. &ldquo;I wish I didn&rsquo;t know the
      thing myself. It&rsquo;s like going around with a million dollars in your
      pocket.&rdquo; Then he added earnestly: &ldquo;There are a lot of American cranks and
      members of Bryan&rsquo;s peace party who wouldn&rsquo;t stand for this if they knew
      it.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You mean they would tell the Germans?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They would tell everybody. They&rsquo;d call it barbarous, wicked. Perhaps it
      is, but&mdash;we&rsquo;re fighting for our lives, aren&rsquo;t we? For our country?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Sure we are,&rdquo; I agreed.
    </p>
    <p>
      Later on Mr. Astor told me how he had come into possession of this
      extraordinary military knowledge. He was one of the Committee of
      Twenty-one.
    </p>
    <p>
      The next day we flew out again to the battle front, taking care not to
      advance over the proscribed area, and we scanned the northern banks of the
      Susquehanna for signs of the enemy, but saw none. On the second day we had
      the same experience, but on the third day, towards evening, three Taubes
      approached swiftly at a great height and hovered over our lines, taking
      observations, and an hour later we made out a body of German cavalry on
      the distant hills.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;An advance guard of Saxons and Westphalians,&rdquo; said I, studying their
      flashing helmets. &ldquo;There will be something doing to-morrow.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      There was. The battle of the Susquehanna began at daybreak, October 14th,
      1921, with an artillery duel which grew in violence as the batteries on
      either side of the river found the ranges. Aeroplanes skirmished for
      positions over the opposing armies and dropped revealing smoke columns as
      guides to the gunners. Hour after hour the Germans poured a terrific fire
      of shells and shrapnel upon the American trenches and I wondered if they
      would not destroy or disarrange our trap, but Astor said they would not.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our inadequate artillery replied as vigorously as possible and was
      supported by the old U. S. battleship <i>Montgomery</i>, manned by the
      Baltimore naval brigade under Commander Ralph Robinson, which lay two
      miles down the river and dropped twelve-inch shells within the enemy&rsquo;s
      lines. Valuable service was also rendered by heavy mobile field artillery
      improvised by placing heavy coast defence mortars on strongly reinforced
      railroad trucks. None of this, however, prevented the Germans from forcing
      through their work of pontoon building, which had been started in the
      night. Five lines of pontoons were thrown across the Susquehanna in two
      days, and very early on the morning of October 14th, the crossing of
      troops began.
    </p>
    <p>
      All day from our aeroplane, circling at a height of a mile or rising to
      two miles in case of danger, we looked down on fierce fighting in the
      trenches and saw the Germans drive steadily forward, sweeping ahead in
      close formation, mindless of heavy losses and victorious by reason of
      overwhelming numbers.
    </p>
    <p>
      By four o&rsquo;clock in the afternoon they had dislodged the Americans from
      their first lines of entrenchment and forced them to retreat in good order
      to reserve lines five miles back of the river. Between these front lines
      and the reserve lines there was a stretch of rolling farm land lined and
      zigzagged with three-foot ditches used for shelter by our troops as they
      fell back.
    </p>
    <p>
      By six o&rsquo;clock that evening the German army had occupied this entire area
      and by half-past seven, in the glory of a gorgeous crimson sunset, we saw
      the invaders capture our last lines of trenches and drive back the
      Americans in full retreat, leaving the ground strewn with their own dead
      and wounded.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Now you&rsquo;ll see something,&rdquo; cried Astor with tightening lips as he scanned
      the battlefield. &ldquo;It may come at any moment. We&rsquo;ve got them where we want
      them. Thousands and thousands of them! Their whole army!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He pointed to the pontoon bridges where the last companies of the German
      host were crossing. On the heights beyond, their artillery fire was
      slackening; and on our side the American fire had ceased. Night was
      falling and the Germans were evidently planning to encamp where they were.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;There are a few thousand over there with the artillery who haven&rsquo;t
      crossed yet,&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;The Crown Prince must be there with his generals.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      My friend nodded grimly. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll attend to them later. Ah! Now look! It&rsquo;s
      coming!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I turned and saw a thick wall of grey and black smoke rolling in dense
      billows over a section of the rear trenches, and out of this leaped
      tongues of blue fire and red fire. And farther down the lines I saw
      similar sections of smoke and flame with open spaces between, but these
      spaces closed up swiftly until presently the fire wall was continuous over
      the whole extent of the rear trenches.
    </p>
    <p>
      We could see German soldiers by hundreds rushing back from this peril;
      but, as they ran, fires started at dozens of points before them in the
      network of ditches and, spreading with incredible rapidity, formed flaming
      barriers that shut off the ways of escape. Within a few minutes the whole
      area beneath us, miles in length and width, that had been occupied by the
      victorious German army, was like a great gridiron of fire or like a city
      with streets and avenues and broad diagonals of fire. All the trenches and
      ditches suddenly belched forth waves of black smoke with blue and red
      flames darting through them, and fiercest of all burned the fire walls
      close to the river bank.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Good God!&rdquo; I cried, astounded at this vast conflagration. &ldquo;What is it
      that&rsquo;s burning?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Oil,&rdquo; said Astor. &ldquo;The whole supply from the Standard Oil pipe lines
      diverted here, millions and millions of gallons. It&rsquo;s driven by big pumps
      through mains and pipes and reservoirs, buried deep. It&rsquo;s spurting from a
      hundred outlets. Nothing can put it out. Look! The river is on fire!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I did look, but I will not tell what I saw nor describe the horrors of the
      ensuing hour. By nine o&rsquo;clock it was all over. The last word in
      frightfulness had been spoken and the despoilers of Belgium were the
      victims.
    </p>
    <p>
      I learned later that the pipes which carried these floods of oil carried
      also considerable quantities of arseniuretted hydrogen. The blue flames
      that Mr. Astor and I noticed came from the fierce burning of this
      arseniuretted hydrogen as it hissed from oil vents in the trenches under
      the drive of powerful pumps.
    </p>
    <p>
      Thousands of those that escaped from the fire area and tried to cross back
      on the pontoons were caught and destroyed, a-midstream, by fire floods
      that roared down the oil-spread Susquehanna. And about 7,000 that escaped
      at the sides were made prisoners.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was announced in subsequent estimates and not denied by the Germans
      that 113,000 of the invaders lost their lives here. To all intents and
      purposes von Hindenburg&rsquo;s army had ceased to exist.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XIX. &mdash; GENERAL WOOD SCORES ANOTHER BRILLIANT SUCCESS AGAINST
      THE CROWN PRINCE
    </h2>
    <p>
      On the evening of October 14, 1921, Field Marshal von Kluck awaited final
      news of the battle of the Susquehanna while enjoying an excellent meal
      with his staff in the carved and gilded dining-room of the old S. B.
      Chittenden mansion on Brooklyn Heights, headquarters of the army of
      occupation. All the earlier despatches through the afternoon had been
      favourable and, as the company finished their <i>Kartoffelsuppe</i>, von
      Kluck had risen, amidst <i>hochs</i> of applause, and read a telegram from
      his Imperial master, the Crown Prince, who, with Field Marshal von
      Hindenburg, was directing the battle from Perryville on the Northern bank,
      announcing that the German army had crossed the river and driven back
      Leonard Wood&rsquo;s forces for five miles and occupied a vast network of
      American trenches.
    </p>
    <p>
      The officers lingered over their <i>preisselbeeren compote</i> and <i>kaffeekuchen</i>
      and, presently, the commander rose again, holding a telegram just
      delivered by a red-faced lieutenant whose cheek was slashed with scars.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Comrades, the great moment has come&mdash;I feel it. Our victory at the
      Susquehanna means the end of American resistance, the capture of
      Baltimore, Washington and the whole Atlantic seaboard. Let us drink to the
      Fatherland and our place in the sun.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Up on their feet came the fire-eating company, with lifted glasses and the
      gleam of conquerors in their eyes.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;<i>Hoch! Hoch!</i>&rdquo; they cried and waited, fiercely joyful, while von
      Kluck opened the despatch. His shaggy brows contracted ominously as he
      scanned two yellow sheets crowded with closely written German script.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;<i>Gott in Himmel!</i>&rdquo; he shouted, and threw the telegram on the table.
    </p>
    <p>
      The blow had fallen, the incredible truth was there before them. Not only
      had the redoubtable von Hindenburg, idol of a nation, hero of countless
      Russian victories, suffered crushing defeat, but his proud battalions had
      been almost annihilated. In the whole history of warfare there had never
      been so complete a disaster to so powerful an army.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Burned to death! Our brave soldiers! Was there ever so barbarous a
      crime?&rdquo; raved the Field Marshal. &ldquo;But the American people will pay for
      this, yes, ten times over. We still have two armies on their soil and a
      fleet ready to transport from Germany another army of half a million. We
      hold their greatest cities, their leading citizens at our mercy, and they
      shall have none. Burned in oil! <i>Mein Gott!</i> We will show them.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Excellency,&rdquo; questioned the others anxiously, &ldquo;what of his Imperial
      Highness the Crown Prince?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Safe, thank God, and von Hindenburg is safe. They did not cross the
      cursed river. They stayed on the Northern bank with the artillery and
      three thousand men.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I learned later that these three thousand of the German rear guard,
      together with seven thousand that escaped from the fire zone and were made
      prisoners, were all that remained alive of the 120,000 Germans that had
      crossed the Susquehanna that fatal morning with flying eagles.
    </p>
    <p>
      Orders were immediately given by von Kluck that retaliatory steps be taken
      to strike terror into the hearts of the American people, and the wires
      throughout New England were kept humming that night with instructions to
      the commanding officers of German forces of occupation in Boston,
      Hartford, New Haven, Portland, Springfield, Worcester, Newport, Fall
      River, Stamford; also in Newark, Jersey City, Trenton and Philadelphia,
      calling upon them to issue proclamations that, in punishment of an act of
      barbarous massacre committed by General Wood and the American army, it was
      hereby ordered that one-half of the hostages previously taken by the
      Germans in each of these cities (the same to be chosen by lot) should be
      led forth at noon on October 15th and publicly executed.
    </p>
    <p>
      At half-past eleven, October 15th, on the Yale University campus, there
      was a scene of excitement beyond words, although dumb in its tragic
      expression, when William Howard Taft, who was one of the hostages drawn
      for execution, finished his farewell address to the students.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I call on you, my dear friends,&rdquo; he cried with an inspired light in his
      eyes, &ldquo;to follow the example of our glorious ancestors, to put aside
      selfishness and all base motives and rise to your supreme duty as American
      citizens. Defend this dear land! Save this nation! And, if it be necessary
      to die, let us die gladly for our country and our children, as those great
      patriots who fought under Washington and Lincoln were glad to die for us.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      With a noble gesture he turned to the guard of waiting German soldiers. He
      was ready.
    </p>
    <p>
      Deeply moved, but helpless, the great audience of students and professors
      waited in a silence of rage and shame. They would fain have hurled
      themselves, unarmed, upon the gleaming line of soldiers that walled the
      quadrangle, but what would that have availed?
    </p>
    <p>
      A Prussian colonel of infantry, with many decorations on his breast,
      stepped to the edge of the platform, glanced at his wrist-watch and said
      in a high-pitched voice: &ldquo;Gentlemen of the University, I trust you have
      carefully read the proclamation of Field Marshal von Kluck. Be sure that
      any disorder during the execution of hostages that is now to take place
      will bring swift and terrible punishment upon the city and citizens of New
      Haven. Gentlemen, I salute you.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He turned to the guard of soldiers. &ldquo;<i>Gehen!</i>&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;<i>Fertig! Hup!</i>&rdquo; cried a stocky little Bavarian sergeant, and the
      grim procession started.
    </p>
    <p>
      At the four corners of the public green were companies of German soldiers
      with machine-guns trained upon dense crowds of citizens who had gathered
      for this gruesome ceremony, high-spirited New Englanders whose faith and
      courage were now to be crushed out of them, according to von Kluck, by
      this stern example.
    </p>
    <p>
      Down Chapel Street with muffled drums came the unflinching group of
      American patriots, marching between double lines of cavalry and led by a
      military band. At Osborn Hall they turned to the right and moved slowly
      along College Street to the Battell Chapel, where they turned again and
      advanced diagonally across the green, the band playing Beethoven&rsquo;s funeral
      march.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the centre of the dense throng, at a point between Trinity Church and
      the old Centre Church, a firing squad of bearded Westphalians was making
      ready for the last swift act of vengeance, when, suddenly, in the
      direction of Elm Street near the Graduates&rsquo; Club, there came a tumult of
      shouts and voices with a violent pushing and struggling in the crowd. A
      messenger on a motorcycle was trying to force his way to the commanding
      officer.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Stop! Stop!&rdquo; he shouted. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got a telegram for the general. Let me
      through! I <i>will</i> get through!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      And at last, torn and breathless, the lad did get through and delivered
      his message. It was a telegram from Field Marshal von Kluck, which read:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Have just received a despatch from General Leonard Wood, stating that his
      Imperial Highness the Crown Prince and Field Marshal von Hindenburg, with
      their military staffs, have been made prisoners by an American army north
      of the Susquehanna, and giving warning that if retaliatory measures are
      taken against American citizens, his Imperial Highness will, within
      twenty-four hours, be stood up before the statue of his Imperial ancestor
      Frederick the Great, in the War College at Washington, and shot to death
      by a firing squad from the Pennsylvania National Guard. In consequence of
      this I hereby countermand all previous orders for the execution of
      American hostages. (Signed) VON KLUCK.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Like lightning this wonderful news spread through the crowd, and in the
      delirious joy that followed there was much disorder which the Germans
      scarcely tried to suppress. They were stunned by the catastrophe. The
      Crown Prince a prisoner! Von Hindenburg a prisoner! By what miracle of
      strategy had General Wood achieved this brilliant coup?
    </p>
    <p>
      Here were the facts, as I subsequently learned. So confident of complete
      success was the American commander, that by twelve o&rsquo;clock on the day of
      battle he had diverted half of his forces, about 30,000 men, in a rapid
      movement to the north, his purpose being to cross the Susquehanna higher
      up and envelop the rear guard of the enemy, with their artillery and
      commanding generals, in an overwhelming night attack. Hour after hour
      through the night of October 14th a flotilla of ferry-boats, cargo-boats,
      tugs, lighters, river craft of all sorts, assembled days before, had
      ferried the American army across the Susquehanna as George Washington
      ferried his army across the Delaware a hundred and fifty years before.
    </p>
    <p>
      All night the Americans pressed forward in a forced march, and by daybreak
      the Crown Prince and his 3,000 men were caught beyond hope of rescue,
      hemmed in between the Susquehanna River and the projecting arms of
      Chesapeake Bay. The surprise was complete, the disaster irretrievable, and
      at seven o&rsquo;clock on the morning of October 15th the heir to the German
      throne and six of his generals, including Field Marshal von Hindenburg,
      surrendered to the Americans the last of their forces with all their flags
      and artillery and an immense quantity of supplies and ammunition.
    </p>
    <p>
      By General Wood&rsquo;s orders the mass of German prisoners were moved to
      concentration camps at Gettysburg, but the Crown Prince was taken to
      Washington, where he and his staff were confined with suitable honours in
      the Hotel Bellevue, taken over by the government for this purpose. Here,
      during the subsequent fortnight, I had the honour of seeing the
      illustrious prisoner on several occasions. It seems that he remembered me
      pleasantly from the New England campaign and was glad to call upon my
      knowledge of American men and affairs for his own information.
    </p>
    <p>
      {Illustration: &ldquo;YOU KNOW, MARK TWAIN WAS A GREAT FRIEND OF MY FATHER&rsquo;S,&rdquo;
       SAID THE CROWN PRINCE, &ldquo;I REMEMBER HOW MY FATHER LAUGHED, ONE EVENING AT
      THE PALACE IN BERLIN, WHEN MARK TWAIN TOLD US THE STORY OF &lsquo;THE JUMPING
      FROG.&rsquo;&rdquo;}
    </p>
    <p>
      As to von Hindenburg&rsquo;s defeat (leaving aside the question of military
      ethics which he denounced scathingly) the Crown Prince said this had been
      accomplished by a mere accident that could never occur again and that
      could not interfere with Germany&rsquo;s ultimate conquest of America.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;This will be a short-lived triumph,&rdquo; declared His Imperial Highness, when
      he received me in his quarters at the Bellevue, &ldquo;and the American people
      will pay dearly for it. The world stands aghast at the horror of this
      barbarous act.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;America is fighting for her existence,&rdquo; said I.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Let her fight with the methods of civilised warfare. Germany would scorn
      to gain an advantage at the expense of her national honour.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;If Your Imperial Highness will allow me to speak of Belgium in 1914&mdash;&rdquo;
       I began, but he cut me short with an impatient gesture.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Our course in Belgium was justified by special reasons&mdash;that is the
      calm verdict of history.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I refrained from arguing this point and was patient while the prince
      turned the conversation on his favourite theme, the inferiority of a
      democratic to an autocratic form of government.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I have been studying the lives of your presidents,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;and&mdash;really,
      how can one expect them to get good results with no training for their
      work and only a few years in office? Take men like Johnson, Tyler, Polk,
      Hayes, Buchanan, Pierce, Filmore, Harrison, McKinley. Mediocre figures,
      are they not? What do they stand for?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What does the average king or emperor stand for?&rdquo; I ventured, whereupon
      His Imperial Highness pointed proudly to the line of Hohenzollern rulers,
      and I had to admit that these were exceptional men.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The big men of America go into commercial and industrial pursuits rather
      than into politics,&rdquo; I explained.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Exactly,&rdquo; agreed the prince, &ldquo;and the republic loses their services.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;No, the republic benefits by the general prosperity which they build up,&rdquo;
       I insisted.
    </p>
    <p>
      With this the Imperial prisoner discussed the American Committee of
      Twenty-one and I was astonished to find what full knowledge he had
      touching their individual lives and achievements. He even knew the details
      of Asa G. Candler&rsquo;s soda water activities. And he told me several amusing
      stories of Edison&rsquo;s boyhood.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;By the way,&rdquo; he said abruptly, &ldquo;I suppose you know that Thomas A. Edison
      is a prisoner in our hands?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;So we concluded,&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;Also Lemuel A. Widding.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Also Lemuel A. Widding,&rdquo; the prince admitted. &ldquo;You know why we took them
      prisoners? It was on account of Widding&rsquo;s invention. He thinks he has
      found a way to destroy our fleet and we do not want our fleet destroyed.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Naturally not.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You had a talk with Edison on the train last week. He knows all the
      details of Widding&rsquo;s invention?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;And he believes it will do what the inventor claims? He believes it will
      destroy our fleet? Did he tell you that?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;He certainly did. He said he wouldn&rsquo;t give five cents for the German
      fleet after Widding&rsquo;s plan is put into operation.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ah!&rdquo; reflected the Crown Prince.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Would Your Imperial Highness allow me to ask a question?&rdquo; I ventured.
    </p>
    <p>
      His eyes met mine frankly. &ldquo;Why, yes&mdash;certainly.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I have no authority to ask this, but I suppose there might be an exchange
      of prisoners. Edison and Widding are important to America and&mdash;&ldquo;.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You mean they might be exchanged for me?&rdquo; his face grew stern. &ldquo;I would
      not hear of it. Those two Americans alone have the secret of this Widding
      invention, I am sure of that, and it is better for the Fatherland to get
      along without a Crown Prince than without a fleet. No. We shall keep Mr.
      Edison and Mr. Widding prisoners.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He said this with all the dignity of his Hohenzollern ancestry; then he
      rose to end the interview.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XX. &mdash; THIRD BATTLE OF BULL RUN WITH AEROPLANES CARRYING
      LIQUID CHLORINE
    </h2>
    <p>
      I now come to those memorable weeks of November, 1921, which rank among
      the most important in American history. There was first the battle that
      had been preparing south of the Potomac between von Mackensen&rsquo;s advancing
      battalions and General Wood&rsquo;s valiant little army. This might be called
      the third battle of Bull Run, since it was fought near Manassas where
      Beauregard and Lee won their famous victories.
    </p>
    <p>
      Although General Wood&rsquo;s forces numbered only 60,000 men, more than half of
      them militia, and although they were matched against an army of 150,000
      Germans, the American commander had two points of advantage, his ten miles
      of entrenchments stretching from Remington to Warrenton along the steep
      slopes of the Blue Ridge mountains, and his untried but formidable
      preparations for dropping liquid chlorine from a fleet of aeroplanes upon
      an attacking army.
    </p>
    <p>
      In order to reach Washington the Germans must traverse the neck of land
      that lies between the mountains and the Potomac&rsquo;s broad arms. Here clouds
      of greenish death from heaven might or might not overwhelm them. That was
      the question to be settled. It was a new experiment in warfare.
    </p>
    <p>
      I should explain that during previous months, thanks to the efficiency of
      the Committee of Twenty-one, great quantities of liquid chlorine had been
      manufactured at Niagara Falls, where the Niagara Alkali Company, the
      National Electrolytic Company, the Oldburg Electro-Chemical Company, the
      Castner Electrolytic Alkali Company, the Hooker Electro-Chemical Company
      and several others, working night and day and using 60,000 horsepower from
      the Niagara power plants and immense quantities of salt from the salt-beds
      in Western New York, had been able to produce 30,000 tons of liquid
      chlorine. And the Lackawanna Steel Company at Buffalo, in its immense tube
      plant, finished in 1920, had turned out half a million thin steel
      containers, torpedo-shaped, each holding 150 pounds of the deadly liquid.
      This was done under the supervision of a committee of leading chemists,
      including: Milton C. Whitaker, Arthur D. Little, Dr. L. H. Baekeland,
      Charles F. McKenna, John E. Temple and Dr. Henry Washington.
    </p>
    <p>
      And a fleet of military aeroplanes had been made ready at the immense
      Wright and Curtiss factories on Grand Island in the Niagara River and at
      the Packard, Sturtevant, Thomas and Gallaudet factories, where a force of
      20,000 men had been working night and day for weeks under government
      supervision. There were a hundred huge tractors with double fuselage and a
      wing spread of 200 feet, driven by four 500 horse-power motors. Each one
      of these, besides its crew, could carry three tons of chlorine from Grand
      Island to Washington (their normal rate of flying was 120 miles an hour)
      in three hours against a moderate wind.
    </p>
    <p>
      I visited aviation centers where these machines were delivered for tests,
      and found the places swarming with armies of men training and inspecting
      and testing the aeroplanes.
    </p>
    <p>
      Among aviators busy at this work were: Charles F. Willard, J. A. D.
      McCurdy, Walter R. Brookins, Frank T. Coffyn, Harry N. Atwood, Oscar Allen
      Brindley, Leonard Warren Bonney, Charles C. Witmer, Harold H. Brown, John
      D. Cooper, Harold Kantner, Clifford L. Webster, John H. Worden, Anthony
      Jannus, Roy Knabenshue, Earl S. Dougherty, J. L. Callan, T. T. Maroney, R.
      E. McMillen, Beckwith Havens, DeLloyd Thompson, Sidney F. Beckwith, George
      A. Gray, Victor Carlstrom, Chauncey M. Vought, W. C. Robinson, Charles F.
      Niles, Frank H. Burnside, Theodore C. Macaulay, Art Smith, Howard M.
      Rinehart, Albert Sigmund Heinrich, P. C. Millman, Robert Fowler.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the balloon training camps, I noticed some old-time balloonists,
      including: J. C. McCoy, A. Leo Stevens, Frank P. Lahm, Thomas S. Baldwin,
      A. Holland Forbes, Charles J. Glidden, Charles Walsh, Carl G. Fisher, Wm.
      F. Whitehouse, George B. Harrison, Jay B. Benton, J. Walter Flagg, John
      Watts, Roy F. Donaldson, Ralph H. Upson, R. A. D. Preston and Warren
      Rasor.
    </p>
    <p>
      Five days before the battle the hundred great carriers began delivering
      their deadly loads on the heights of Arlington, south of the Potomac, each
      aeroplane making three trips from Niagara Falls every twenty-four hours,
      which meant that on the morning of November 5, 1921, when the German
      legions came within range of Leonard Wood&rsquo;s field artillery, there were
      5,000 tons of liquid chlorine ready to be hurled down from the aerial
      fleet. And it was estimated that the carriers would continue to deliver a
      thousand tons a day from Grand Island as long as the deadly stuff was
      needed.
    </p>
    <p>
      The actual work of dropping these chlorine bombs upon the enemy was
      entrusted to another fleet of smaller aeroplanes gathered from all parts
      of the country, most of them belonging to members of the Aero Club of
      America who not only gave their machines but, in many cases, offered their
      services as pilots or gunners for the impending air battle.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What is the prospect?&rdquo; I asked Henry Woodhouse, chief organiser of these
      aeroplane forces, on the day before the fight.
    </p>
    <p>
      He was white and worn after days of overwork, but he spoke hopefully.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We have chlorine enough,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;but we need more attacking
      aeroplanes. We&rsquo;ve only about forty squadrons with twelve aeroplanes to a
      squadron and most of our pilots have never worked in big air manoeuvres.
      It&rsquo;s a great pity. Ah, look there! If they were all like Bolling&rsquo;s
      squadron!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He pointed toward the heights back of Remington where a dozen bird
      machines were sweeping through the sky in graceful evolutions.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What Bolling is that?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Raynal C.&mdash;the chap that organised the first aviation section of the
      New York National Guard. Ah! See those boys turn! That&rsquo;s Boiling at the
      head of the &lsquo;V,&rsquo; with James E. Miller, George von Utassy, Fairman Dick,
      Jerome Kingsbury, William Boulding, 3rd, and Lorbert Carolin. They&rsquo;ve got
      Sturtevant steel battle planes&mdash;given by Mrs. Bliss&mdash;yes, Mrs.
      William H. Bliss. She&rsquo;s one of the patron saints of the Aero Club.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      We strolled among the hangars and Mr. Woodhouse presented me to several
      aeroplane squadron commanders, Cornelius Vanderbilt, Robert Bacon, Godfrey
      Lowell Cabot, Russell A. Alger, Robert Glendinning, George Brokaw, Clarke
      Thomson, Cortlandt F. Bishop; also to Rear Admiral Robert E. Peary, Archer
      M. Huntington, J. Stuart Blackton, and Albert B. Lambert, who had just
      come in from a scouting and map-making flight over the German lines. These
      gentlemen agreed that America&rsquo;s chances the next day would be excellent if
      we only had more attacking aeroplanes, about twice as many, so that we
      could overwhelm the enemy with a rain of chlorine shells.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I believe three hundred more aeroplanes would give us the victory,&rdquo;
       declared Alan R. Hawley, ex-president of the Aero Club.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Think of it,&rdquo; mourned August Belmont. &ldquo;We could have had a thousand
      aeroplanes so easily&mdash;two thousand for the price of one battleship.
      And now&mdash;to-morrow&mdash;three hundred aeroplanes might save this
      nation.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Cornelius Vanderbilt nodded gloomily. &ldquo;The lack of three hundred
      aeroplanes may cost us the Atlantic seaboard. These aeroplanes would be
      worth a million dollars apiece to us and we can&rsquo;t get &lsquo;em.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The fifty aeroplanes of the Post Office are mighty useful,&rdquo; observed
      Ex-Postmaster-General Frank H. Hitchcock to Postmaster-General Burleson.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It isn&rsquo;t the fault of you gentlemen,&rdquo; said Emerson McMillin, &ldquo;if we did
      not have five thousand aeroplanes in use for mail carrying, and coast
      guard and life-saving services.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      This remark was appreciated by some of the men in the group, including
      Alexander Graham Bell, Admiral Peary, Henry A. Wise Wood, Henry Woodhouse,
      Albert B. Lambert, and Byron R. Newton, head of the Coast Guard and Life
      Saving Service. For years they had all made supreme but unavailing efforts
      to make Congress realize the value of an aeroplane reserve which could be
      employed every day for peaceful purposes and would be available in case of
      need.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Five thousand aeroplanes could have been put in use for carrying mail and
      express matter and in the Coast Guard,&rdquo; said Mr. McMillin, &ldquo;and with them
      we could have been in the position of the porcupine, which goes about its
      peaceful pursuits, harms no one, but is ever ready to defend itself. Had
      we had them in use, this war would probably never have taken place.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      A little later, as we were supping in a farmhouse, there came a great
      shouting outside and, rushing to doors and windows, we witnessed a
      miracle, if ever there was one. There, spread across the heavens from west
      and south, sweeping toward us, in proud alignment, squadron by squadron&mdash;there
      was the answer to our prayers, a great body of aeroplanes waving the stars
      and stripes in the glory of the setting sun.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Who are they? Where do they come from?&rdquo; we marvelled, and, presently, as
      the sky strangers came to earth like weary birds, a great cry arose:
      &ldquo;Santos Dumont! Santos Dumont!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      It was indeed the great Santos, the famous Brazilian sportsman, and
      president of the Aeronautical Federation of the Western Hemisphere, who
      had come thus opportunely to cast his fortunes with tortured America and
      fight for the maintenance of the Monroe Doctrine. With him came the
      Peruvian aviator, Bielovucci, first to fly across the Alps (1914), and
      Señor Anassagasti, president of the Aero Club Argentino, and also four
      hundred aeroplanes with picked crews from all parts of South America.
    </p>
    <p>
      There was great rejoicing that evening at General Wood&rsquo;s headquarters over
      this splendid support given to America by her sister republics.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It looks now as if we have a chance,&rdquo; said Brigadier General Robert K.
      Evans. &ldquo;The Germans will attack at daybreak and&mdash;by the way, what&rsquo;s
      the matter with our wireless reports?&rdquo; He peered out into the night which
      was heavily overcast&mdash;not a star in sight. He was looking toward the
      radio station a mile back on the crest of a hill where the lone pine tree
      stood that supported the transmission wires.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Looks like rain,&rdquo; decided the general. &ldquo;Hello! What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Plainly through purplish black clouds we caught the shrill buzz of
      swift-moving aeroplanes.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Good lord!&rdquo; cried Roy D. Chapin, chief inspector of aircraft. &ldquo;The
      Germans! I know their engine sounds. Searchlights! Quick!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Alas! Our searchlights proved useless against the thick haze that had now
      spread about us; they only revealed distant dim shapes that shot through
      the darkness and were gone.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We must go after those fellows,&rdquo; muttered General Evans, and he detailed
      William Thaw, Norman Prince and Elliot Cowdin, veterans of many sky
      battles in France and Belgium, to go aloft and challenge the intruders.
    </p>
    <p>
      This incident kept the camp in an uproar half the night. It turned out
      that the strange aeroplanes had indeed been sent out by the Germans, but
      for hours we did not discover what their mission was. They dropped no
      bombs, they made no effort to attack us, but simply circled around and
      around through the impenetrable night, accomplishing nothing, so far as we
      could see, except that they were incredibly clever in avoiding the pursuit
      of our airmen.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They are flying at great speed,&rdquo; calculated A. F. Zahm, the aerodynamic
      expert of the Smithsonian Institution, &ldquo;but I don&rsquo;t see what their purpose
      is.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got it,&rdquo; suddenly exclaimed John Hays Hammond, Jr. &ldquo;They&rsquo;ve sprung a
      new trick. Their machines carry powerful radio apparatus and they&rsquo;re
      cutting off our wireless.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;By wave interference?&rdquo; asked Dr. Zahm.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Of course. It&rsquo;s perfectly simple. I&rsquo;ve done it at Gloucester.&rdquo; He turned
      to General Evans. &ldquo;Now, sir, you see why we&rsquo;ve had no wireless reports
      from our captive balloon.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      This mention of the captive balloon brought to mind the peril of Payne
      Whitney, who was on lookout duty in the balloon near the German lines, and
      who might now be cut off by enemy aircraft, since he could not use his
      wireless to call for help. I can only state briefly that this danger was
      averted and Whitney&rsquo;s life saved by the courage and prompt action of
      Robert J. Collier and Larry Waterbury, who flew through the night to the
      rescue of their friend with a supporting air squadron and arrived just in
      time to fight off a band of German raiders.
    </p>
    <p>
      I deeply regret that I must record these thrilling happenings in such bald
      and inadequate words and especially that my pen is quite unequal to
      describing that strangest of battles which I witnessed the next day from
      the heights back of Remington. Never was there a more thrilling sight than
      the advance of this splendid body of American and South American
      aeroplanes, flying by squadrons in long V&rsquo;s like flocks of huge birds,
      with a terrifying snarling of propellers. To right and left they
      manoeuvred, following wireless orders from headquarters that were executed
      by the various squadron commanders whose aeroplanes would break out
      bunting from time to time for particular signals.
    </p>
    <p>
      So overwhelming was the force of American flyers, all armed with machine
      guns, that the Germans scarcely disputed the mastery of the air, and about
      seventy of their old-fashioned eagle type biplanes were soon destroyed.
      Our total losses here were only eleven machines, but these carried
      precious lives, some of our bravest and most skilful amateur airmen,
      Norman Cabot, Charles Jerome Edwards, Harold F. McCormick, James A. Blair,
      Jr., B. B. Lewis, Percy Pyne, 2nd, Eliot Cross, Roy D. Chapin, Logan A.
      Vilas and Bartlett Arkell.
    </p>
    <p>
      I turned to my friend Hart O. Berg, the European aeroplane expert, and
      remarked that we seemed to be winning, but he said little, simply frowned
      through his binoculars.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t you think so?&rdquo; I persisted.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Wait!&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s something queer about this. Why should the
      Germans have such an inferior aircraft force? Where are all their
      wonderful Fokker machines?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I mean that this battle isn&rsquo;t over yet. Ah! Look! We&rsquo;re getting our work
      in with that chlorine.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      It was indeed true. With the control of the skies assured us, our fleet of
      liquid gas carriers had now gone into action and at many points we saw the
      heavy poison clouds spreading over the enemy hosts like a yellow green
      sea. The battle of chlorine had begun. The war of chemistry was raining
      down out of the skies. It is certain that nothing like this had ever been
      seen before. There had been chlorine fighting in the trenches out of
      squirt gun apparatus&mdash;plenty of that in 1915, with a few score killed
      or injured, but here it came down by tons over a whole army, this devilish
      stuff one breath of which deep into the lungs smote a man down as if dead.
    </p>
    <p>
      The havoc thus wrought in the German ranks was terrific; especially as
      General Wood took advantage of the enemy&rsquo;s distress to sweep their lines
      with fierce artillery fire from his batteries on the heights.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We&rsquo;ve got them going,&rdquo; said I.
    </p>
    <p>
      Berg shook his head.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Not yet.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      If General Wood had been able to hurl his army forward in a desperate
      charge at this moment of German demoralisation it is possible we might
      have gained a victory, but the risks were too heavy. The American forces
      were greatly outnumbered and to send them into those chlorine-swept areas
      was to bring the enemy&rsquo;s fate upon them. Wood must hold his men upon the
      heights until our artillery and poison gas attack had practically won the
      day. Then a final charge might clinch matters&mdash;that was the plan, but
      it worked out differently, for, after their first demoralisation, the
      enemy learned to avoid the descending danger by running from it. They
      could avoid the slowly spreading chlorine clouds by seeking higher ground
      and, presently, they regained a great measure of their confidence and
      courage and swept forward in furious fresh attacks.
    </p>
    <p>
      Even so the Americans fought for hours with every advantage and our
      artillery did frightful execution. At three o&rsquo;clock I sent off a cable to
      the <i>Times</i> that General Wood&rsquo;s prospects were excellent, but at
      half-past four our supply of liquid chlorine was exhausted and news came
      from Niagara Falls that a German spy on Grand Island had blown up the
      great chlorine supply tank containing 20,000 tons. And the Niagara
      power-plants had been wrecked by dynamite.
    </p>
    <p>
      Still the Americans fought on gallantly, desperately, knowing that
      everything was at stake, and our aeroplanes, with their batteries of
      machine guns, gave effective assistance. Superiority in numbers, however,
      soon made itself felt and at five o&rsquo;clock the Germans, relieved from the
      chlorine menace, advanced their heavy artillery and began a terrific
      bombardment of our trenches.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Hello!&rdquo; exclaimed Berg suddenly. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that coming?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He pointed to the northeast, where we made out a group of swiftly
      approaching aeroplanes, flying in irregular order. We watched them alight
      safely near General Wood&rsquo;s headquarters, all but one marked &ldquo;Women of
      1915,&rdquo; which was hit by an anti-aircraft gun, as it came to earth, and
      settled down with a broken wing and some injuries to the pilot, Miss Ethel
      Barrymore, and the observer, Mrs. Charles S. Whitman, wife of Senator
      Whitman.
    </p>
    <p>
      This was but one demonstration of the heroism of our women. Thousands had
      volunteered their services as soon as the war broke out and many, finding
      that public sentiment was against having women in the ranks, learned to
      fly and to operate radio apparatus and were admitted in these branches of
      the service. Among the women who volunteered were hundreds of members of
      the Women&rsquo;s Section of the Movement for National Preparedness, including
      members of the Council of Women, Daughters of American Revolution, Ladies
      of the G. A. R. (National and Empire State), United Daughters of the
      Confederacy, Association Opposed to Woman&rsquo;s Suffrage, Civic Federation
      Woman&rsquo;s Department, Society United States Daughters of 1812, Woman&rsquo;s
      Rivers and Harbors Congress, Congress of Mothers, Daughters of Cincinnati,
      Daughters of the Union, Daughters of the Revolution, and National Special
      Aid Society.
    </p>
    <p>
      These organisations of American women not only supplied a number of
      skilled aeroplane pilots, but they were of material help in strengthening
      the fighting forces, as well as in general relief work.
    </p>
    <p>
      As the shadows of night approached we were startled by the sudden sweep
      across the sky of a broad yellow searchlight beam, lifted and lowered
      repeatedly, while a shower of Roman candles added vehemence to the signal.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Something has happened. They&rsquo;ve brought important news,&rdquo; cried my friend,
      whereupon we hurried to headquarters and identified most of the machines
      as separate units in Rear Admiral Peary&rsquo;s aero-radio system of coast
      defence, while two of them, piloted by Ralph Pulitzer (wounded) and W. K.
      Vanderbilt, belonged to Emerson McMillin&rsquo;s reefing-wings scouting
      squadron.
    </p>
    <p>
      We listened eagerly to the reports of pilots and gunners from these
      machines, Marion McMillin, W. Redmond Cross, Harry Payne Whitney
      (wounded), William Ziegler, Jr., Alexander Blair Thaw, W. Averill
      Harriman, Edwin Gould, Jr. (wounded), and learned that a powerful fleet of
      enemy aircraft, at least 500, had been sighted over Chesapeake Bay and
      were flying swiftly to the support of the Germans. These aeroplanes had
      started from a base near Atlantic City and would arrive within half an
      hour.
    </p>
    <p>
      A council of war was held immediately and, acting on the advice of
      aeroplane experts, General Wood ordered the withdrawal of our land and air
      forces. It would be madness to attempt further resistance. Our army was
      hopelessly outnumbered, our chlorine supply was gone, our air fleet, after
      flying all day, was running short of gasoline and its weary pilots were in
      no condition to withstand the attack of a fresh German fleet. At all costs
      we must save our aeroplanes, for without them the little remnant of our
      army would be blind.
    </p>
    <p>
      This was the beginning of the end. We had done our best and failed. At six
      o&rsquo;clock orders were given that the whole American army prepare for a night
      retreat into the remote fastnesses of the Blue Ridge Mountains. We had
      made our last stand east of the Alleghenies and fell back heavy-hearted,
      leaving the invaders in full possession of our Atlantic seaboard.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXI. &mdash; THE AWAKENING OF AMERICA
    </h2>
    <p>
      There followed dark days for America. Washington was taken by the enemy,
      but not until our important prisoners, the Crown Prince and von
      Hindenburg, had been hurried to Chicago. Baltimore was taken. Everything
      from Maine to Florida and all the Gulf ports were taken.
    </p>
    <p>
      Add to this a widespread spirit of disorder and disunion, strikes and
      rioting in many cities, dynamite outrages, violent addresses of demagogues
      and labour leaders, pleas for peace at any price by misguided fanatics who
      were ready to reap the whirlwind they had sown. These were days when men
      of brain and courage, patriots of the nation with the spirit of &lsquo;76 in
      them, almost despaired of the future.
    </p>
    <p>
      Through all this storm and darkness, amid dissension and violence, one man
      stood firm for the right, one wise big-souled man, the President of the
      United States. In a clamour of tongues he heard the still small voice
      within and laboured prodigiously to build up unity and save the nation.
      Like Lincoln, he was loved and honoured even by his enemies.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was my privilege to hear the great speech which the President of the
      United States delivered in Chicago, November 29, 1921, a date which
      Theodore Roosevelt has called the most memorable in American history. The
      immense auditorium on the lake front, where once were the Michigan Central
      tracks, was packed to suffocation. It is estimated that 40,000 men and
      women, representing every state and organisation in the Union, heard this
      impassioned appeal for the nation, that will live in American history
      along with Lincoln&rsquo;s Gettysburg address.
    </p>
    <p>
      The President spoke first and did not remain to hear the other orators, as
      he was leaving for Milwaukee, where he hoped to relieve a dangerous,
      almost a revolutionary situation. He had been urged not to set foot in
      this breeding place of sedition, but he replied that the citizens of
      Milwaukee were his fellow countrymen, his brothers. They were dear to him.
      They needed him. And he would not fail them.
    </p>
    <p>
      In spite of this stirring cry from the heart, the audience seemed but
      mildly affected and allowed the President to depart with only perfunctory
      applause. There was no sign of success for his plea that the nation rouse
      itself from its lethargy and send its sons unselfishly in voluntary
      enlistment to drive the enemy from our shores. And there were resentful
      murmurs when the President warned his hearers that compulsory military
      service might be inevitable.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why shall the poor give their lives to save the rich?&rdquo; answered Charles
      Edward Russell, speaking for the socialists. &ldquo;What have the rich ever done
      for the poor except to exploit them and oppress them? Why should the
      proletariat worry about the frontiers between nations? It&rsquo;s only a
      question which tyrant has his heel on our necks. No! The labouring men of
      America ask you to settle for them and for their children the frontiers
      between poverty and riches. That&rsquo;s what they&rsquo;re ready to fight for, a fair
      division of the products of toil, and, by God, they&rsquo;re going to have it!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      One feature of the evening was a stirring address by the beautiful
      Countess of Warwick, prominent in the feminist movement, who had come over
      from England to speak for the Women&rsquo;s World Peace Federation.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Women of America,&rdquo; said the Countess, &ldquo;I appeal to you to save this
      nation from further horrors of bloodshed. Rise up in the might of your
      love and your womanhood and end this wholesale murder. Remember the great
      war in Europe! What did it accomplish? Nothing except to fill millions of
      graves with brave sons and beloved husbands. Nothing except to darken
      millions of homes with sorrow. Nothing except to spread ruin and
      desolation everywhere. Are you going to allow this ghastly business to be
      repeated here?
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Women of America, I bring you greetings from the women of England, the
      women of France, the women of Germany, who have joined this great pacifist
      movement and whose voices sounding by millions can no longer be stifled.
      Let the men hear and heed our cry. We say to them: &lsquo;Stop! Our rights on
      this earth equal yours. We gave you birth, we fed you at the breast, we
      guarded your tender years, and we notify you now that you shall no longer
      kill and maim our husbands, our sons, our fathers, our brothers, our
      lovers. It is in the power of women to drive war&rsquo;s hell from the earth
      and, whatever the cost, we are going to do it.&rsquo;&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;No! No!&rdquo; came a tumult of cries from all parts of the hall.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We believe in fighting to the last for our national existence,&rdquo; cried
      Mrs. John A. Logan, waving her hand, whereupon hundreds of women patriots,
      Daughters of the American Revolution, suffrage and anti-suffrage leaders,
      members of the Navy League, Red Cross workers, sprang to their feet and
      screamed their enthusiasm for righteous war.
    </p>
    <p>
      Among these I recognised Mrs. John A. Logan, Miss Mabel Boardman, Mrs.
      Lindon Bates, Mrs. Mary S. Lockwood, Mrs. Seymour L. Cromwell, Miss Alice
      Hill Chittenden, Mrs. Oliver Herford, Mrs. Hobart Chatfield-Taylor, Mrs.
      John Temple Graves, Mrs. Edwin Gould, Mrs. George Dewey, Mrs. William
      Cumming Story, Mrs. George Harvey, Mrs. Thomas A. Edison, Mrs. William C.
      Potter, Miss Marie Van Vorst, Mrs. Arthur M. Dodge, Mrs. George J. Gould,
      Mrs. T. J. Oakley Rhinelander, Mrs. W. K. Vanderbilt, Mrs. John Jacob
      Astor, Mrs. Peter Cooper Hewitt, Mrs. M. Orme Wilson, Mrs. Simon Baruch,
      Mrs. Oliver Herford, Mrs. Wm. Reynolds Brown, and Mrs. Douglas Robinson.
    </p>
    <p>
      When this storm had subsided, Henry Ford rose to renew the pacifist
      attack.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It shocks and grieves me,&rdquo; he began, &ldquo;to find American women openly
      advocating the killing of human beings.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Where would your business be,&rdquo; yelled a voice in the gallery, &ldquo;if George
      Washington hadn&rsquo;t fought the War of the Revolution?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      This sally called forth such frantic cheers that Mr. Ford was unable to
      make himself heard and sat down in confusion.
    </p>
    <p>
      Other speakers were Jane Addams, Hudson Maxim, Bernard Ridder and William
      Jennings Bryan. The audience sat listless as the old arguments and
      recriminations, the old facts and fallacies, were laid before them. Like
      the nation, they seemed plunged in a stupor of indifference. They were
      asleep.
    </p>
    <p>
      Then suddenly fell the bomb from heaven. It was during the mild applause
      following Mr. Bryan&rsquo;s pacifist appeal, that I had a premonition of some
      momentous happening. I was in the press gallery quite near to Theodore
      Roosevelt, the next speaker, who was seated at the end of the platform,
      busy with his notes, when a messenger came out from behind the stage and
      handed the Colonel a telegram. As he read it I saw a startling change.
      Roosevelt put aside his notes and a strange tense look came into his eyes
      and, presently, when he rose to speak, I saw that his usually ruddy face
      was ashen grey.
    </p>
    <p>
      As Roosevelt rose, another messenger thrust a wet, ink-stained newspaper
      into his hand.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ladies and gentlemen,&rdquo; he began, and in his first words there was a sense
      of impending danger, &ldquo;for reasons of the utmost importance I shall not
      deliver the speech that I have prepared. I have a brief message, a very
      grave message, that will reach your hearts more surely than any words of
      mine. The deliberations of this great gathering have been taken out of our
      hands. We have nothing more to discuss, for Almighty God has spoken!
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;My friends, the great man who was with us but now, the President of the
      United States, has been assassinated.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      No words can describe the scene that followed. A moment of smiting
      silence, then madness, hysteria, women fainting, men clamouring and
      cursing, and finally a vast upsurging of quickened souls, as the organ
      pealed forth: &ldquo;My Country, &lsquo;Tis of Thee,&rdquo; and forty thousand Americans
      rose and sang their hearts out.
    </p>
    <p>
      Then, in a silence of death, Roosevelt spoke again:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Listen to the last words of the President of the United States: &lsquo;<i>The
      Union! The Flag!</i>&rsquo; That is what he lived for and died for, that is what
      he loved. &lsquo;<i>The Union! The Flag!</i>&rsquo; 
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;My friends, they say patriotism is dead in this land. They say we are
      eaten up with love of money, tainted with a yellow streak that makes us
      afraid to fight. It&rsquo;s a lie! I am ready to give every dollar I have in the
      world to help save this nation and it&rsquo;s the same with you men. Am I
      right?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      A roar of shouts and hysterical yells shook the building.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I am sixty years old, but I&rsquo;ll fight in the trenches with my four sons
      beside me and you men will do the same. Am I right?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Again came a roar that could be heard across Chicago.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We all make mistakes. I do nothing but make mistakes, but I&rsquo;m sorry. I
      have said hard things about public men, especially about German-Americans,
      but I&rsquo;m sorry.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      With a noble gesture he turned to Bernard Ridder, who sprang to meet him,
      his eyes blazing with loyalty.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;There are no German-Americans!&rdquo; shouted Ridder. &ldquo;We&rsquo;re all Americans!
      Americans!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He clasped Roosevelt&rsquo;s hand while the audience shouted its delight.
    </p>
    <p>
      Quick on his feet came Charles Edward Russell, fired with the same
      resistless patriotism.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;There are no more socialists!&rdquo; he cried. &ldquo;No more proletariat! We&rsquo;re all
      Americans! We&rsquo;ll all fight for the Union and the old flag! <i>You too!</i>&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He turned to William Jennings Bryan, who rose slowly and with outstretched
      hands faced his adversaries.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I, too, have made mistakes and I am sorry. I, too, feel the grandeur of
      those noble words spoken by that great patriot who has sent us his last
      message. I, too, will stand by the flag in this time of peril and will
      spare neither my life nor my fortune so long as the invader&rsquo;s foot rests
      on the soil of free America.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Americans!&rdquo; shouted Roosevelt, the sweat streaming from his face. &ldquo;Look!&rdquo;
       He caught Bryan by one arm and Russell by the other. &ldquo;See how we stand
      together. All the rest is forgotten. Americans! Brothers! On your feet
      everybody! Yell it out to the whole land, to the whole world, America is
      awake! Thank God, America is awake!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXII. &mdash; ON CHRISTMAS EVE BOSTON THEILLS THE NATION WITH AN
      ACT OF MAGNIFICENT HEROISM
    </h2>
    <p>
      Now all over America came a marvellous spiritual awakening. The sacrifice
      of the President&rsquo;s noble life, and his wife&rsquo;s thrilling effort to shield
      her husband, was not in vain. Once more the world knew the resistless
      power of a martyr&rsquo;s death. Women and men alike were stirred to warlike
      zeal and a joy in national sacrifice and service. The enlistment officers
      were swamped with a crush of young and old, eager to join the colours; and
      within three days following the President&rsquo;s assassination a million
      soldiers were added to the army of defence and a million more were turned
      away. It was no longer a question how to raise a great American army, but
      how to train and equip it, and how to provide it with officers.
    </p>
    <p>
      Most admirable was the behaviour of the great body of German-Americans; in
      fact it was a German-American branch of the American Defence Society,
      financed in America, that started the beautiful custom, which became
      universal, of wearing patriotic buttons bearing the sacred words: <i>&ldquo;The
      Union! The Flag!&rdquo;</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It was one thing,&rdquo; wrote Bernard Ridder in the Chicago <i>Staats-Zeitung</i>,
      &ldquo;for German-Americans to side with Germany in the great European war
      (1914-1919) when only our sympathies were involved. It is quite a
      different thing for us now in a war that involves our homes and our
      property, all that we have in the world. When Germany attacks America, she
      attacks German-Americans, she attacks us in our material interests, in our
      fondest associations; and we will resist her just as in 1776 the American
      colonists, who were really English, resisted England, the mother country,
      when she attacked them in the same way.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I was impressed by the truth of this statement during a visit that I made
      to Milwaukee, where I found greatly improved conditions. In fact,
      German-Americans themselves were bringing to light the activities of
      German spies and vigorously opposing German propaganda.
    </p>
    <p>
      In Allentown, Pennsylvania, which has a large German population, I heard
      of a German-American mother named Roth, who was so zealous in her loyalty
      to the United States that she rose at five o&rsquo;clock on the day following
      the President&rsquo;s assassination and enlisted her three sons before they were
      out of bed.
    </p>
    <p>
      In Chicago, St. Louis, Cincinnati, Cleveland and other cities women
      volunteered by thousands as postmen, street-car conductors, elevator
      operators and for service in factories and business houses, so as to
      release the men for military service. Chicago newspapers printed pictures
      of Mrs. Harold F. McCormick, Mrs. J. Ogden Armour, Mrs. J. Clarence
      Webster and other prominent society women in blue caps and improvised
      uniforms, ringing up fares on the Wabash Avenue cars for the sake of the
      example they would set to others.
    </p>
    <p>
      In San Francisco, Denver, Portland, Oregon, Omaha, and Salt Lake City a
      hundred thousand women, at gatherings of women&rsquo;s clubs and organisations,
      formally joined the Women&rsquo;s National War Economy League and pledged
      themselves as follows:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We, the undersigned American women, in this time of national need and
      peril, do hereby promise:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;(1) To buy no jewelry or useless ornaments for one year and to contribute
      the amount thus saved (from an average estimated allowance) to the Women&rsquo;s
      National War Fund.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;(2) To buy only two hats a year, the value of said hats not to exceed ten
      dollars, and to contribute the amount thus saved (from an average
      estimated allowance) to the Women&rsquo;s National War Fund.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;(3) To buy only two dresses a year, the value of said dresses not to
      exceed sixty dollars, and to contribute the amount thus saved (from an
      average estimated allowance) to the Women&rsquo;s National War Fund.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;(4) To forego all entertaining at restaurants, all formal dinner and
      luncheon parties and to contribute the amount thus saved (from an average
      estimated allowance) to the Women&rsquo;s National War Fund.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;(5) To abstain from cocktails, highballs and all expensive wines, also
      from cigarettes, to influence husbands, fathers, brothers, sons and men
      friends to do the same, and to contribute the amount thus saved to the
      Women&rsquo;s National War Fund.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;(6) To keep this pledge until the invader has been driven from the soil
      of free America.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I may mention that Mrs. Harriot Stanton Blatch, in urging her sister women
      at various mass meetings to sign this pledge, made the impressive estimate
      that, by practising these economies during a two years&rsquo; war, a hundred
      thousand well-to-do American women might save a <i>thousand million
      dollars</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      Other American women, under the leadership of Mrs. Mary Logan Tucker,
      daughter of General John A. Logan, prepared themselves for active field
      service at women&rsquo;s military camps, in several states, where they were
      instructed in bandage making, first-aid service, signalling and the use of
      small arms.
    </p>
    <p>
      As weeks passed the national spirit grew stronger, stimulated by rousing
      speeches of Roosevelt, Russell and Bryan and fanned into full flame by
      Boston&rsquo;s immortal achievement on December 24, 1921. On that day, by
      authorisation of General von Beseler, commanding the German force of
      occupation, a great crowd had gathered on Boston Common for a Christmas
      tree celebration with a distribution of food and toys for the poor of the
      city. In the Public Gardens near the statue of George Washington, Billy
      Sunday was making an address when suddenly, on the stroke of five, the
      bell in the old Park Street church and then the bells in all the churches
      of Boston began to toll.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was a signal for an uprising of the people and was answered in a way
      that will fill a proud page of American history so long as human courage
      and love of liberty are honoured upon earth. In an instant every telephone
      wire in the city went dead, leaving the Germans cut off from communication
      among themselves. All traffic and business ceased as if by magic, all
      customary activities were put aside and, with the first clangour of the
      bells, the whole population poured into the streets and surged towards
      Boston Common by converging avenues, singing as they went.
    </p>
    <p>
      Already a hundred thousand citizens were packed within this great
      enclosure, and guarding them were three thousand German, foot soldiers and
      a thousand horsemen in formidable groups, with rifles and machine guns
      ready&mdash;before the State House, before the Soldiers&rsquo; Monument, along
      Tremont Street and Boylston Street and at other strategic points. Never in
      the history of the world had an unarmed, untrained mob prevailed over such
      a body of disciplined troops. The very thought was madness. And yet&mdash;
    </p>
    <p>
      Hark! That roar of voices in the Public Gardens! What is it? A band
      playing in the distance? Who ordered a band to play? German officers shout
      harsh commands. &ldquo;Back!&rdquo; &ldquo;Stand back!&rdquo; &ldquo;Stop this pushing of the crowd!&rdquo; &ldquo;<i>Mein
      Gott!</i> Those women and children will be trampled by the horses!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Alas, that is true! Once more the cause of American liberty requires that
      Boston Common be hallowed by American blood. The people of this New
      England city are tired of German rule. They want their city for themselves
      and are going to take it. Guns or not, soldiers or not, they are going to
      take their city.
    </p>
    <p>
      Listen! They are coming! Six hundred thousand strong in dense masses that
      choke every thoroughfare from wall to wall the citizens of Boston, women
      and children with the men, are coming! And singing!
    </p>
<pre xml:space="preserve">
    &ldquo;Hurrah! Hurrah! We sound the jubilee!
    Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that set us free.&rdquo;
 </pre>
    <p>
      They are practically unarmed, although some of the men carry shot-guns,
      pistols, rifles, clubs, stones; but they know these will avail little
      against murderous machine guns. They know they must find strength in their
      weakness and overwhelm the enemy by the sheer weight of their bodies. They
      must stun the invaders by their willingness to die. That is the only real
      power of this Boston host, their sublime willingness to die.
    </p>
    <p>
      It is estimated that five thousand of them did die, and ten thousand were
      wounded, in the first half hour after the German machine guns opened fire.
      And still the Americans came on in a shouting, surging multitude, a solid
      sea of bodies with endless rivers of bodies pouring in behind them. It is
      not so easy to kill forty acres of human bodies, even with machine guns!
    </p>
    <p>
      Endlessly the Americans came on, hundreds falling, thousands replacing
      them, until presently the Germans ceased firing, either in horror at this
      incredible sacrifice of life or because their ammunition was exhausted.
      What chance was there for German ammunition carts to force their way
      through that struggling human wall? What chance for the fifteen hundred
      German reserves in Franklin Park to bring relief to their comrades?
    </p>
    <p>
      At eight o&rsquo;clock that night Boston began her real Christmas eve
      celebration. Over the land, over the world the joyful tidings were
      flashed. Boston had heard the call of the martyred President and answered
      it. The capital of Massachusetts was free. The Stars and Stripes were once
      more waving over the Bunker Hill Monument. Four thousand German soldiers
      were prisoners in Mechanics Hall on Commonwealth Avenue. <i>The citizens
      of Boston had taken them prisoners with their bare hands!</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      This news made an enormous sensation not only in America but throughout
      Europe, where Boston&rsquo;s heroism and scorn of death aroused unmeasured
      admiration and led military experts in France and England to make new
      prophecies regarding the outcome of the German-American war.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;All things are possible,&rdquo; declared a writer in the Paris <i>Temps</i>,
      &ldquo;for a nation fired with a supreme spiritual zeal like that of the
      Japanese Samurai. It is simply a question how widely this sacred fire has
      spread among the American people.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXIII. &mdash; CONFESSIONS OF AN AMERICAN SPY AND BRAVERY OF
      BUFFALO SCHOOLBOYS
    </h2>
    <p>
      On December 26th I received a cable from the London <i>Times</i>
      instructing me to try for another interview with the Crown Prince and to
      question him on the effect that this Boston victory might have upon the
      German campaign in America. Would there be retaliatory measures? Would
      German warships bombard Boston from the sea?
    </p>
    <p>
      I journeyed at once to Chicago and made my appeal to Brigadier General
      George T. Langhorne, who had been military attache at Berlin in 1915 and
      was now in charge of the Imperial prisoner. The Crown Prince and his staff
      occupied the seventh floor of the Hotel Blackstone.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry,&rdquo; said General Langhorne, after he had presented my request.
      &ldquo;The Crown Prince has no statement to make at present. But there is
      another German prisoner who wishes to speak to you. I suppose it&rsquo;s all
      right as you have General Wood&rsquo;s permission. He says he has met you before&mdash;Colonel
      von Dusenberg.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Colonel von Dusenberg?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;He is on the Crown Prince&rsquo;s staff. In here.&rdquo; I opened a heavy door and
      found myself in a large dimly lighted room.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Mr. Langston!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The voice was familiar and, turning, I stared in amazement; for there,
      dressed as an officer of the Prussian guard, stood the man I had rescued
      in the Caribbean Sea, the brother of the girl I had seen in Washington,
      Lieutenant Randolph Ryerson of the United States navy. He had let his
      moustache grow, but I recognised him at once.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You?&rdquo; I stood looking at him and saw that his face was deathly white.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes. I&mdash;I&rsquo;m in trouble and&mdash;I have things to tell you,&rdquo; he
      stammered. &ldquo;Sit down.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I sat down and lighted a cigarette. I kept thinking how much he looked
      like his sister.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ryerson, what the devil are you doing in that Prussian uniform?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He turned away miserably, then he forced himself to face me.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll get the worst over first. I don&rsquo;t care what happens to me and&mdash;anyway
      I&mdash;I&rsquo;m a spy.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;A spy?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He nodded. &ldquo;In the service of the Germans. It was through me they knew
      about Widding&rsquo;s invention to destroy their fleet. It was through me that
      Edison and Widding were abducted. I meant to disappear&mdash;that&rsquo;s why I
      joined von Hindenburg&rsquo;s army, but&mdash;we were captured and&mdash;here I
      am.&rdquo; He looked at me helplessly as I blew out a cloud of smoke.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;How is this possible? How did it happen? How, Ryerson?&rdquo; I gasped in
      amazement.
    </p>
    <p>
      He shook his head. &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the use? It was money and&mdash;there&rsquo;s a woman
      in it.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Go on.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s all. I fell for one of their damnable schemes to get information.
      It was three years ago on the Mediterranean cruise of our Atlantic
      squadron. I met this woman in Marseilles.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;She called herself the Countess de Matignon, and&mdash;I was a young
      lieutenant and&mdash;I couldn&rsquo;t resist her. Nobody could. She wanted money
      and I gave her all I had; then I gambled to get more. She wanted
      information about the American fleet, about our guns and coast defences;
      unimportant things at first, but pretty soon they were important and&mdash;I
      was crazy about her and&mdash;swamped with debts and&mdash;I yielded.
      Within six months she owned me. I was a German spy, mighty well paid, too.
      God!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I stared at him in dismay. I could not speak.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Well, after the war broke out between Germany and America last April,
      this woman came to New York and got her clutches on me deeper than ever. I
      gave her some naval secrets, and six weeks ago I told her all I knew about
      Widding&rsquo;s invention. You see what kind of a dog I am,&rdquo; he concluded
      bitterly.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ryerson, why have you told me this?&rdquo; I asked searchingly.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo; He flashed a straightforward look out of his handsome eyes.
      &ldquo;Because I&rsquo;m sick of the whole rotten game. I&rsquo;ve played my cards and lost.
      I&rsquo;m sure to be found out&mdash;some navy man will recognise me, in spite
      of this moustache, and&mdash;you know what will happen then. I&rsquo;ll be glad
      of it, but&mdash;before I quit the game I want to do one decent thing. I&rsquo;m
      going to tell you where they&rsquo;ve taken Edison.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You know where Edison is?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes. Don&rsquo;t speak so loud.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Ryerson leaned closer and whispered: &ldquo;He&rsquo;s in Richmond, Virginia.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Silently I studied this unhappy man, wondering if he was telling the
      truth. He must have felt my doubts.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Langston, you don&rsquo;t believe me! Why should I lie to you? I tell you I
      want to make amends. These German officers trust me. I know their plans
      and&mdash;Oh, my God, aren&rsquo;t you going to believe me?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; I said, impressed by the genuineness of his despair. &ldquo;What plans
      do you know?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I know the Germans are disturbed by this patriotic spirit in America.
      They&rsquo;re afraid of it. They don&rsquo;t know where hell may break loose next&mdash;after
      Boston. They&rsquo;re going to leave Boston alone, everything alone for the
      present&mdash;until they get their new army.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;New army?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes&mdash;from Germany. They have sent for half a million more men.
      They&rsquo;ll have &lsquo;em here in a month and&mdash;that&rsquo;s why I want to do
      something&mdash;before it&rsquo;s too late.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      As I watched him I began to believe in his sincerity. Handsome fellow! I
      can see him now with his flushed cheeks and pleading eyes. A spy! It would
      break his sister&rsquo;s heart.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What can you do?&rdquo; I asked sceptically.
    </p>
    <p>
      He looked about him cautiously and lowered his voice.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I can get Edison away from the Germans, and Edison can destroy their
      fleet.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; said I.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;He says he can.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I know, but&mdash;you say Edison is in Richmond.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We can rescue him. If you&rsquo;ll only help me, Langston, we can rescue
      Edison. I&rsquo;ll go to Richmond with papers to the commanding German general
      that will get me anything.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Papers as a German spy?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Well&mdash;yes.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t get to Richmond. You&rsquo;re a prisoner yourself.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s where you&rsquo;re going to help me. You must do it&mdash;for the
      country&mdash;for my sister.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      {Illustration: AND ON THE MORNING OF JULY 4, TWO OF VON KLUCK&rsquo;S STAFF
      OFFICERS, ACCOMPANIED BY A MILITARY ESCORT, MARCHED DOWN STATE STREET TO
      ARRANGE FOR THE PAYMENT OF AN INDEMNITY FROM THE CITY OF BOSTON OF THREE
      HUNDRED MILLION DOLLARS.}
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Does your sister know&mdash;what you are?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He looked away, and I saw his lips tighten and his hands clench.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;No!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Do you want me to tell her?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He thought a moment.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s the use of hiding it? She&rsquo;s bound to know some day, and&mdash;she&rsquo;ll
      be glad I&rsquo;ve had this little flicker of&mdash;decency. Besides, she may
      have an idea. Mary&rsquo;s got a good head on her. Poor kid!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I told Ryerson that I would think the matter over and find some way to
      communicate with him later. Then I left him.
    </p>
    <p>
      I telegraphed at once to Miss Ryerson, who hurried to Chicago, arriving
      the next morning, and we spent most of that day together, discussing the
      hard problem before us. The girl was wonderfully brave when I told her the
      truth about her brother. She said there were circumstances in his early
      life that lessened the heinousness of his wrong doing. And she rejoiced
      that he was going to make amends. She knew he was absolutely sincere.
    </p>
    <p>
      I suggested that we go to General Wood, who was friendly to both of us,
      and tell him the whole truth, but Miss Ryerson would not hear to this. She
      would not place Randolph&rsquo;s life in jeopardy by revealing the fact that he
      had been a German spy. Her brother must make good before he could hope to
      be trusted or forgiven.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;But he&rsquo;s a prisoner; he can do nothing unless he has his liberty,&rdquo; I
      objected.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We will get him his liberty; we <i>must</i> get it, but not that way.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Then how?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      For a long time we studied this question in all its phases. How could
      Lieutenant Ryerson gain his liberty? How could he get a chance to make
      amends for his treachery? And, finally, seeing no other way, we fell back
      upon the desperate expedient of an exchange. I would obtain permission for
      Miss Ryerson to visit her brother, and they would change clothes, she
      remaining as a prisoner in his place while he went forth to undo if
      possible the harm that he had done.
    </p>
    <p>
      The details of this plan we arranged immediately. I saw Ryerson the next
      day, and when I told him what his sister was resolved to do in the hope of
      saving his honour, he cried like a child and I felt more than ever
      convinced of his honest repentance.
    </p>
    <p>
      We decided upon December 28th for the attempt, and two days before this
      Randolph found a plausible excuse for cutting off his moustache. He told
      General Langhorne that he had become a convert to the American fashion of
      a clean shaven face.
    </p>
    <p>
      As to the escape itself, I need only say that on December 28th, in the
      late afternoon, I escorted Miss Ryerson, carefully veiled, to the Hotel
      Blackstone; and an hour later I left the hotel with a person in women&rsquo;s
      garments, also carefully veiled. And that night Randolph Ryerson and I
      started for Richmond. I may add that I should never have found the courage
      to leave that lovely girl in such perilous surroundings had she not
      literally commanded me to go.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We may be saving the nation,&rdquo; she begged. &ldquo;Go! Go! And&mdash;I&rsquo;ll be
      thinking of you&mdash;praying for you&mdash;for you both.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      My heart leaped before the wonder of her eyes as she looked at me and
      repeated these last words: <i>&ldquo;For you both!&rdquo;</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      We left the express at Pittsburg, intending to proceed by automobile
      across Pennsylvania, then by night through the mountains of West Virginia
      and Virginia; for, of course, we had to use the utmost caution to avoid
      the sentries of both armies which were spread over this region.
    </p>
    <p>
      In Pittsburg we lunched at the Hotel Duquesne, after which Ryerson left me
      for a few hours, saying that he wished to look over the ground and also to
      procure the services of a high-powered touring car.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t take any chances,&rdquo; I said anxiously.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be careful. I&rsquo;ll be back inside of two hours,&rdquo; he promised.
    </p>
    <p>
      But two hours, four hours, six hours passed and he did not come. I dined
      alone, sick at heart, wondering if I had made a ghastly mistake.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was nearly ten o&rsquo;clock that night when Ryerson came back after seven
      hours&rsquo; absence. We went to our room immediately, and he told me what had
      happened, the gist of it being that he had discovered important news that
      might change our plans.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;These people trust me absolutely,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;They tell me everything.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You mean&mdash;German spies?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes. Pittsburg is full of &lsquo;em. They&rsquo;re plotting to wreck the big steel
      plants and factories here that are making war munitions. I&rsquo;ll know more
      about that later, but the immediate thing is Niagara Falls.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Then Ryerson gave me my first hint of a brilliant coup that had been
      preparing for months by the Committee of Twenty-one and the American high
      command, its purpose being to strike a deadly and spectacular blow at the
      German fleet.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;This is the closest kind of a secret, it&rsquo;s the great American hope; but
      the Germans know all about it,&rdquo; he declared.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Go on.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a big air-ship, the America, a super-Zeppelin, six hundred feet
      long, with apparatus for steering small submarines by radio control&mdash;no
      men aboard. Understand?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You mean no men aboard the submarine?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Of course. There will be a whole crew on the air-ship. Nicola Tesla and
      John Hays Hammond, Jr., worked out the idea, and Edison was to give the
      last touches; but as Edison is a German prisoner, they can&rsquo;t wait for him.
      They are going to try the thing on New Year&rsquo;s night against the German
      dreadnought <i>Wilhelm II</i> in Boston Harbour.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Blow up the <i>Wilhelm II</i>?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes, but the Germans are warned in advance. You can&rsquo;t beat their
      underground information bureau. They&rsquo;re going to strike first.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Where is this air-ship?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;On Grand Island, in the Niagara River, all inflated, ready to sail, but
      she never will sail unless we get busy. After tomorrow night there won&rsquo;t
      be any <i>America</i>.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      In the face of this critical situation, I saw that we must postpone our
      trip to Richmond and, having obtained from Ryerson full details of the
      German plot to destroy the <i>America</i>, I took the first train for
      Niagara Falls&mdash;after arranging with my friend to rejoin him in
      Pittsburg a few days later&mdash;and was able to give warning to Colonel
      Charles D. Kilbourne of Fort Niagara in time to avert this catastrophe.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Germans knew that Grand Island was guarded by United States troops and
      that the river surrounding it was patrolled by sentry launches; but the
      island was large, sixteen miles long and seven miles wide, and under cover
      of darkness it was a simple matter for swimmers to pass unobserved from
      shore to shore.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the night of December 30th, 1921, in spite of the cold, five hundred
      German spies had volunteered to risk their lives in this adventure. They
      were to swim silently from the American and Canadian shores, each man
      pushing before him a powerful fire bomb protected in a water-proof case;
      then, having reached the island, these five hundred were to advance
      stealthily upon the hangar where the great air-ship, fully inflated, was
      straining at her moorings. When the rush came, at a pre-arranged signal,
      many would be killed by American soldiers surrounding the building, but
      some would get through and accomplish their mission. One successful fire
      bomb would do the work.
    </p>
    <p>
      Against this danger Colonel Kilbourne provided in a simple way. Instead of
      sending more troops to guard the island, which might have aroused German
      suspicions, he arranged to have two hundred boys, members of the Athletic
      League of the Buffalo Public Schools, go to Grand Island apparently for
      skating and coasting parties. It was brisk vacation weather and no one
      thought it strange that the little ferry boat from Buffalo carried bands
      of lively youngsters across the river for these seasonable pleasures. It
      was not observed that the boat also carried rifles and ammunition which
      the boys had learned to use, in months of drill and strenuous target
      practice, with the skill of regulars.
    </p>
    <p>
      There followed busy hours on Grand Island as we made ready for the crisis.
      About midnight, five hundred Germans, true to their vow, landed at various
      points, and crept forward through the darkness, carrying their bombs. As
      they reached a circle a thousand yards from the huge hangar shed they
      passed unwittingly two hundred youthful riflemen who had dug themselves in
      under snow and branches and were waiting, thrilling for the word that
      would show what American boys can do for their country. Two hundred
      American boys on the thousand yard circle! A hundred American soldiers
      with rifles and machine guns at the hangar! And the Germans between!
    </p>
    <p>
      We had learned from Ryerson that the enemy would make their rush at two
      o&rsquo;clock in the morning, the signal being a siren shriek from the Canadian
      shore, so at a quarter before two, knowing that the Germans were surely in
      the trap, Colonel Kilbourne gave the word, and, suddenly, a dozen
      search-lights swept the darkness with pitiless glare. American rifles
      spoke from behind log shelters, Maxims rattled their deadly blast, and the
      Germans, caught between two fires, fled in confusion, dropping their
      bombs. As they approached the thousand-yard line they found new enemies
      blocking their way, keen-eyed youths whose bullets went true to the mark.
      And the end of it was, leaving aside dead and wounded, that <i>two hundred
      Buffalo schoolboys made prisoners of the three hundred and fifty German
      veterans!</i>
    </p>
    <p>
      And the great seven-million dollar air-ship <i>America</i>, with all her
      radio mysteries, was left unharmed, ready to sail forth the next night,
      New Year&rsquo;s Eve, and make her attack upon the superdreadnought Wilhelm II,
      on January 1, 1922. I prayed that this would be a happier year for the
      United States than 1921 had been.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXIV. &mdash; NOVEL ATTACK OF AMERICAN AIRSHIP UPON GERMAN
      SUPER-DREADNOUGHT
    </h2>
    <p>
      I come now to the period of my great adventures beginning on New Year&rsquo;s
      Day, 1922, when I sailed from Buffalo aboard the airship <i>America</i> on
      her expedition against the German fleet. For the first time in my modest
      career I found myself a figure of nation-wide interest, not through any
      particular merit or bravery of my own, but by reason of a series of
      fortunate accidents. I may say that I became a hero in spite of myself.
    </p>
    <p>
      In recognition of the service I had rendered in helping to save the great
      airship from German spies, I had been granted permission, at General
      Wood&rsquo;s recommendation, to sail as a passenger aboard this dreadnought of
      the skies and to personally witness her novel attack with torpedoes
      lowered from the airship and steered from the height of a mile or two by
      radio control. Never before had a newspaper correspondent received such a
      privilege and I was greatly elated, not realising what extraordinary
      perils I was to face in this discharge of my duty.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was furthermore privileged to be present at a meeting of the Committee
      of Twenty-one held on the morning of January 1st, 1922, at the Hotel Lenox
      in Buffalo. Various details of our airship expedition were discussed and
      there was revealed to me an important change in the <i>America&rsquo;s</i>
      strategy which I will come to presently.
    </p>
    <p>
      Surveying the general military situation, John Wanamaker read reports
      showing extraordinary progress in military preparedness all over the
      country, especially in states like Ohio and Pennsylvania, where the women,
      recently victorious in their suffrage fight, were able to make their
      patriotic zeal felt in aggressive legislation. Strange to say, American
      wives and mothers were the leaders in urging compulsory physical and
      military training, a year of it, on the Swiss plan, for all American young
      men of twenty and a month of it every five years afterwards for all men up
      to fifty.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Committee were in the midst of a discussion of Charles M. Schwab&rsquo;s
      plan providing that American soldiers carry armour, a helmet, breastplate
      and abdominal covering of light but highly tempered steel, when there came
      a dramatic interruption. A guard at the door of the Council Room entered
      to say that Mr. Henry A. Wise Wood, President of the Aero Club of America,
      was outside with an urgent communication for the Committee. Mr. Wise Wood
      was at once received and informed us that he had journeyed from Pittsburg
      bearing news that might have an important bearing upon the airship
      expedition.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;As you know, gentlemen,&rdquo; he said, &ldquo;we have a wireless station in the
      tower of our new Aero Club building in Pittsburg. Yesterday afternoon at
      three o&rsquo;clock the operator received a message addressed to me. It was very
      faint, almost a whisper through the air, but he filially got it down and
      he is positive it is correct. This message, gentlemen, is from Thomas A.
      Edison.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Edison!&rdquo; exclaimed Andrew Carnegie, &ldquo;but he is a prisoner of the
      Germans.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Undoubtedly,&rdquo; agreed Mr. Wise Wood, &ldquo;but it has occurred to me that the
      Germans may have allowed Mr. Edison to fit up a laboratory for his
      experiments. They would treat such a man with every consideration.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They would not allow him to communicate with his friends,&rdquo; objected
      Cornelius Vanderbilt.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;He may not have asked permission,&rdquo; laughed George W. Perkins. &ldquo;He may
      have rigged up some secret contrivance for sending wireless messages.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you read what he says?&rdquo; put in J.P. Morgan.
    </p>
    <p>
      Mr. Wise Wood drew a folded yellow paper from his pocket and continued:
      &ldquo;This message is unquestionably from Mr. Edison, in spite of the fact that
      it is signed <i>Thaled</i>. You will agree with me, gentlemen, that Thaled
      is a code word formed by putting together the first two letters of the
      three names, Thomas Alva Edison.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Very clever!&rdquo; nodded Asa G. Candler.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t see that,&rdquo; frowned John D. Rockefeller. &ldquo;If Mr. Edison wished to
      send Mr. Wise Wood a message why should he use a misleading signature?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s perfectly clear,&rdquo; explained James J. Hill. &ldquo;Mr. Edison has disguised
      his signature sufficiently to throw off the track any German wireless
      operator who might catch the message, while leaving it understandable to
      us.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Read the message,&rdquo; repeated J.P. Morgan. Whereupon Mr. Wise Wood opened
      the yellow sheet and read:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Strongly disapprove attack against German fleet by airship <i>America</i>.
      Satisfied method radio control not sufficiently perfected and effort
      doomed to failure. Have worked out sure and simple way to destroy fleet.
      Details shortly or deliver personally. THALED&rdquo;.
    </p>
    <p>
      This message provoked fresh discussion and there were some, including
      Elihu Root, who thought that Mr. Edison had never sent this message. It
      was a shrewd trick of the Germans to prevent the <i>America</i> from
      sailing. If Mr. Edison could tell us so much why did he not tell us more?
      Why did he not say where he was a prisoner? And explain on what he rested
      his hopes of communicating with us in person.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; concluded Mr. Root, &ldquo;we know that Germany is actually
      embarking a new army of half a million men to continue her invasion of
      America. Already she holds our Atlantic seaboard, our proudest cities, and
      within a fortnight she will strike again. I say we must strike first. We
      have a chance in Boston Harbour and we must take it. This single coup may
      decide the war by showing the invader that at last we are ready.
      Gentlemen, I move that the airship <i>America</i> sail to-night for Boston
      Harbour, as arranged.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I longed to step forward to tell what I knew about Edison, how he was a
      prisoner in Richmond, Virginia, and how an effort was actually on foot to
      rescue him, but I had promised Miss Ryerson not to betray her brother&rsquo;s
      shame and was forced to hold my tongue. Besides, I could not be sure
      whether this wireless message did or did not come from Edison.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Committee finally decided that the <i>America</i> should sail that
      evening, but should change her point of attack so as to take the enemy
      unprepared, if possible; in other words, we were to strike not at the
      German warships in Boston Harbour, but at the great super-dreadnought <i>Bismarck</i>,
      flagship of the hostile fleet, which was lying in the upper bay off New
      York City.
    </p>
    <p>
      I pass over the incidents of our flight to Manhattan and come to the
      historic aerial struggle over New York harbour in which I nearly lost my
      life. The <i>America</i> was convoyed by a fleet of a hundred swift and
      powerful battle aeroplanes and we felt sure that these would be more than
      able to cope with any aeroplane force that the Germans could send against
      us. And to avoid danger from anti-aircraft guns we made a wide detour to
      the south, crossing New Jersey on about the line of Asbury Park and then
      sailing to the north above the open sea, so that we approached New York
      harbour from the Atlantic side. At this time (it was a little after
      midnight) we were sailing at a height of two miles with our aeroplanes ten
      miles behind us so that their roaring propellers might not betray us and,
      for a time, as we drifted silently off Rockaway Beach it seemed that we
      would be successful in our purpose to strike without warning.
    </p>
    <p>
      There, just outside the Narrows, lay the <i>Bismarck</i>, blazing with the
      lights of some New Year&rsquo;s festivity and resounding with music. I remember
      a shrinking of unprofessional regret at the thought of suddenly destroying
      so fair and happy a thing.
    </p>
    <p>
      I was presently drawn from these meditations by quick movements of the
      airship crew and a shrill voice of command.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Ready to lower! Let her go!&rdquo; shouted Captain Nicola Tesla, who had
      volunteered for this service.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Bzzz!&rdquo; sang the deck winches as they swiftly unrolled twin lengths of
      piano wire that supported a pendant torpedo with its radio appliances and
      its red, white and green control lights shining far below us in the void.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Easy! Throw on your winch brakes,&rdquo; ordered Tesla, studying his dials for
      depth.
    </p>
    <p>
      A strong southeast wind set the wires twisting dangerously, but, by
      skillful manoeuvring, we launched the first torpedo safely from the height
      of half a mile and, with a thrill of joy, I followed her lights (masked
      from the enemy) as they moved swiftly over the bay straight towards the
      flagship. The torpedo was running under perfect wireless control. Tesla
      smiled at his keyboard.
    </p>
    <p>
      Alas! Our joy was soon changed to disappointment. Our first torpedo missed
      the Bismarck by a few yards, went astern of her because at the last moment
      she got her engines going and moved ahead. Somehow the Germans had
      received warning of their danger.
    </p>
    <p>
      Our second torpedo wandered vainly over the ocean because we could not
      follow her guide lights, the enemy blinding us with the concentrated glare
      of about twenty of their million-candle power searchlights.
    </p>
    <p>
      And our third torpedo was cut off from radio control because we suddenly
      found ourselves surrounded y the two fleets of battling aeroplanes, caught
      between two fires, ours and the enemy&rsquo;s, and were obliged to run for our
      lives with an electric generator shattered by shrapnel. I was so busy
      caring for two of our crew who were wounded that I had no time to observe
      this thrilling battle in the air.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was over quickly, I remember, and our American aeroplanes, vastly
      superior to the opposing fleet, had gained a decisive victory, so that we
      were just beginning to breathe freely when an extraordinary thing
      happened, a rare act of heroism, though I say it for the Germans.
    </p>
    <p>
      There came a signal, the dropping of a fire bomb with many colours, and
      instantly the remnant of the enemy&rsquo;s air strength, four biplanes and a
      little yellow-striped monoplane, started at us, in a last desperate
      effort, with all the speed of their engines. Our aerial fleet saw the
      manouver and swept towards the biplanes, intercepting them, one by one,
      and tearing them to pieces with sweeping volleys of our machine guns, but
      the little monoplane, swifter than the rest, dodged and circled and
      finally found an opening towards the airship and came through it at two
      miles a minute, straight for us and for death, throwing fire bombs and
      yelling for the Kaiser.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Save yourselves!&rdquo; shouted Tesla as the enemy craft ripped into our great
      yellow gas bag.
    </p>
    <p>
      Bombs were exploding all about us and in an instant the <i>America</i> was
      in flames. We knew that our effort had failed.
    </p>
    <p>
      As the stricken airship, burning fiercely, sank rapidly through the night,
      I realised that I must fight for my life in the ice cold waters of the
      bay. I hate cold water and, being but an indifferent swimmer, I hesitated
      whether to throw off my coat and shoes, and, having finally decided, I had
      only time to rid myself of one shoe and my coat when I saw the surging
      swells directly beneath me and leapt overside just in time to escape the
      crash of blazing wreckage.
    </p>
    <p>
      Dazed by the blow of a heavy spar and the shock of immersion, I remember
      nothing more until I found myself on dry land, hours later, with kind
      friends ministering to me. It seems that a party of motor boat rescuers
      from Brooklyn worked over me for hours before I returned to consciousness
      and I lay for days afterward in a state of languid-weakness, indifferent
      to everything.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXV. &mdash; DESPERATE EFFORT TO RESCUE THOMAS A. EDISON FROM THE
      GERMANS
    </h2>
    <p>
      I wish I might detail my experiences during the next fortnight, how I was
      guarded from the Germans (they had put a price on my head) by kind friends
      in Brooklyn, notably Mrs. Anne P. L. Field, the Sing-Sing angel, who
      contrived my escape through the German lines of occupation with the help
      of a swift motor boat and two of her convict protégés.
    </p>
    <p>
      We landed in Newark one dark night after taking desperate chances on the
      bay and running a gauntlet of German sentries who fired at us repeatedly.
      Then, thanks to my old friend, Francis J. Swayze of the United States
      Supreme Court, I was passed along across northern New Jersey, through
      Dover, where &ldquo;Pop&rdquo; Losee, the eloquent ice man evangelist, saved me from
      Prussians guarding the Picatinny arsenal, then through Allentown, Pa.,
      where Editor Roth swore to a suspicious German colonel that I was one of
      his reporters, and, finally, by way of Harrisburg to Pittsburg, where at
      last I was safe.
    </p>
    <p>
      To my delight I found Randolph Ryerson anxiously awaiting my arrival and
      eager to proceed with our plan to rescue Edison. We set forth for Richmond
      the next day, January 16th, 1922, in a racing automobile and proceeded
      with the utmost caution, crossing the mountains of West Virginia and
      Virginia by night to avoid the sentries of both armies. Twice, being
      challenged, we drove on unheeding at furious speed and escaped in the
      darkness, although shots were fired after us.
    </p>
    <p>
      As morning broke on January 20th we had our first view of the seven-hilled
      city on the James, with its green islands and its tumbling muddy waters.
      We knew that Richmond was held by the Germans, and as we approached their
      lines I realised the difficulty of my position, for I was now obliged to
      trust Ryerson absolutely and let him make use of his credentials from the
      Crown Prince which presented him as an American spy in the German service.
      He introduced me as his friend and a person to be absolutely trusted,
      which practically made me out a spy also. It was evident that, unless we
      succeeded in our mission, I had compromised myself gravely. Ryerson was
      reassuring, however, and declared that everything would be all right.
    </p>
    <p>
      We took a fine suite at the Hotel Jefferson, where we found German
      officers in brilliant uniforms strolling about the great rotunda or
      refreshing themselves with pipes and beer in the palm room nearthe white
      marble statue of Thomas Jefferson.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;If you&rsquo;ll excuse me now for a few hours,&rdquo; said Ryerson, who seemed rather
      nervous, &ldquo;I will get the information we need from some of these fellows.
      Let us meet here at dinner.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      During the afternoon I drove about this peaceful old city with its gardens
      and charming homes and was allowed to approach the threatening siege guns
      which the Germans had set up on the broad esplanade of Monument Avenue
      between the equestrian statue of Robert E. Lee and the tall white shaft
      that bears the heroic figure of Jefferson Davis. These guns were trained
      upon the gothic tower of the city hall and upon the cherished grey pile of
      the Capitol, with its massive columns and its shaded park where grey
      squirrels play about the famous statue of George Washington.
    </p>
    <p>
      My driver told me thrilling stories of the fighting here when Field
      Marshal von Mackensen marched his army into Richmond. Alas for this proud
      Southern city! What could she hope to do against 150,000 German soldiers?
      For the sake of her women and children she decided to do nothing
      officially, but the Richmond &ldquo;Blues&rdquo; had their own ideas and a crowd of
      Irish patriots from Murphy&rsquo;s Hotel had theirs, and when the German army,
      with bands playing and eagles flying, came tramping down Broad Street,
      they were halted presently by four companies of eighty men each in blue
      uniforms and white plumed hats drawn up in front of the statues of
      Stonewall Jackson and Henry Clay ready to die here on this pleasant autumn
      morning rather than have this most sacred spot in the South desecrated by
      an invader. And die here they did or fell wounded, the whole body of
      Richmond &ldquo;Blues,&rdquo; under Colonel W. J. Kemp, while their band played
      &ldquo;Dixie&rdquo; and the old Confederate flags waved over them.
    </p>
    <p>
      As for the Irishmen, it seems that they marched in a wild and cursing mob
      to the churchyard of old St. John&rsquo;s where Patrick Henry hurled his famous
      defiance at the British and in the same spirit&mdash;&ldquo;Give me liberty or
      give me death&rdquo;&mdash;they fought until they could fight no longer.
    </p>
    <p>
      As we drove through East Franklin Street I was startled to see a German
      flag flying over the honoured home of Robert E. Lee and a German sentry on
      guard before the door. I was told that prominent citizens of Richmond were
      held here as hostages, among these being Governor Richard Evelyn Byrd,
      John K. Branch, Oliver J. Sands, William H. White, Bishop R. A. Gibson,
      Bishop O&rsquo;Connell, Samuel Cohen and Mayor Jacob Umlauf who, in spite of his
      German descent, had proved himself a loyal American.
    </p>
    <p>
      I finished the afternoon at a Red Cross bazaar held in the large
      auditorium on Gary Street under the patronage of Mrs. Norman B. Randolph,
      Mrs. B. B. Valentine, Miss Jane Rutherford and other prominent Richmond
      ladies. I made several purchases, including a cane made from a plank of
      Libby prison and a stone paper weight from Edgar Allan Poe&rsquo;s boyhood home
      on Fifth Street.
    </p>
    <p>
      Leaving the bazaar, I turned aimlessly into a quiet shaded avenue and was
      wondering what progress Ryerson might be making with his investigations,
      when I suddenly saw the man himself on the other side of the way, talking
      earnestly with a young woman of striking beauty and of foreign appearance.
      She might have been a Russian or an Austrian.
    </p>
    <p>
      There was something in this unexpected meeting that filled me with a vague
      alarm. Who was this woman? Why was Ryerson spending time with her that was
      needed for our urgent business? I felt indignant at this lack of
      seriousness on his part and, unobserved, I followed the couple as they
      climbed a hill leading to a little park overlooking the river, where they
      seated themselves on a bench and continued their conversation.
    </p>
    <p>
      Presently I passed so close to them that Ryerson could not fail to see me
      and, pausing at a short distance, I looked back at him. He immediately
      excused himself to his fair companion and joined me. He was evidently
      annoyed.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Wait here,&rdquo; he whispered. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll be back.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      With that he rejoined the lady and immediately escorted her down the hill.
      It was fully an hour before he returned and I saw he had regained his
      composure.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I suppose you are wondering who that lady was?&rdquo; he began lightly.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Well, yes, just a little. Is she the woman you told me about&mdash;the
      countess?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;No, no! But she&rsquo;s a very remarkable person,&rdquo; he explained. &ldquo;She is known
      in every capital of Europe. They say the German government pays her fifty
      thousand dollars a year.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;She&rsquo;s quite a beauty,&rdquo; said I.
    </p>
    <p>
      He looked at me sharply. &ldquo;I suppose she is, but that&rsquo;s not the point.
      She&rsquo;s at the head of the German secret service work in America. She knows
      all about Edison.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;She has told me where he is. That&rsquo;s why we came up here. Do you see that
      building?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I followed his gesture across the valley and on a hill opposite saw a
      massive brick structure with many small windows, and around it a high
      white painted wall.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Well?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;That&rsquo;s the state penitentiary. Edison is there in the cell that was once
      occupied by Aaron Burr&mdash;you remember&mdash;when he was tried for
      treason?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      All this was said in so straightforward a manner that I felt ashamed of my
      doubts and congratulated my friend warmly on his zeal and success.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Just the same, you didn&rsquo;t like it when you saw me with that woman&mdash;did
      you?&rdquo; he laughed.
    </p>
    <p>
      I acknowledged my uneasiness and, as we walked back to the hotel, spoke
      earnestly with Ryerson about the grave responsibility that rested upon us,
      upon me equally with him. I begged him to justify his sister&rsquo;s faith and
      love and to rise now with all his might to this supreme duty and
      opportunity.
    </p>
    <p>
      He seemed moved by my words and assured me that he would do the right
      thing, but when I pressed him to outline our immediate course of action,
      he became evasive and irritable and declared that he was tired and needed
      a night&rsquo;s rest before going into these details.
    </p>
    <p>
      As I left him at the door of his bedroom I noticed a bulky and strongly
      corded package on the table and asked what it was, whereupon, in a flash
      of anger, he burst into a tirade of reproach, saying that I did not trust
      him and was prying into his personal affairs, all of which increased my
      suspicions.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I must insist on knowing what is in that package,&rdquo; I said quietly. &ldquo;You
      needn&rsquo;t tell me now, because you&rsquo;re not yourself, but in the morning we
      will take up this whole affair. Goodnight.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Goodnight,&rdquo; he answered sullenly.
    </p>
    <p>
      Here was a bad situation, and for hours I did not sleep, asking myself if
      I had made a ghastly mistake in trusting Ryerson. Was his sister&rsquo;s
      sacrifice to be in vain? Was the man a traitor still, in spite of
      everything?
    </p>
    <p>
      Towards three o&rsquo;clock I fell into fear-haunted dreams, but was presently
      awakened by a quick knocking at my door and, opening, I came face to face
      with my companion, who stood there fully dressed.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;For God&rsquo;s sake let me come in.&rdquo; He looked about the room nervously. &ldquo;Have
      you anything to drink?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I produced a flask of Scotch whiskey and he filled half a glass and gulped
      it down. Then he drew a massive iron key from his pocket and threw it on
      the bed.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Whatever happens, keep that. Don&rsquo;t let me have it.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I picked up the key and looked at it curiously. It was about four inches
      long and very heavy.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why don&rsquo;t you want me to let you have it?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Because it unlocks a door that would lead me to&mdash;hell,&rdquo; he cried
      fiercely. Then he reached for the flask.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;No, no! You&rsquo;ve had enough,&rdquo; I said, and drew the bottle out of his reach.
      &ldquo;Randolph, you know I&rsquo;m your friend, don&rsquo;t you? Look at me! Now what&rsquo;s the
      matter? What door are you talking about?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;The door to a wing of the prison where Edison is.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You said he was in Aaron Burr&rsquo;s cell.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;He&rsquo;s been moved to another part of the building. That woman arranged it.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Why?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He looked at me in a silence of shame, then he forced himself to speak.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;So I could carry out my orders&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Orders? Not&mdash;not German orders?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He nodded stolidly.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I&rsquo;m under her orders&mdash;it&rsquo;s the same thing. I can&rsquo;t help it. I can&rsquo;t
      stand against her.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Then she <i>is</i> the countess?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He bowed his head slowly.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes. I meant to play fair. I would have played fair, but&mdash;the
      Germans put this woman on our trail when we left Chicago&mdash;they
      mistrusted something and&mdash;&rdquo; with a gesture of despair, &ldquo;she found me
      in Pittsburg&mdash;she&mdash;she&rsquo;s got me. I don&rsquo;t care for anything in
      the world but that woman.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Randolph!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s true. I don&rsquo;t want to live&mdash;without her. You needn&rsquo;t cock up
      your eyes like that. I&rsquo;d go back to her now&mdash;yes, by God, I&rsquo;d do this
      thing now, if I could.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He had worked himself into a frenzy of rage and pain, and I sat still
      until he grew calm again.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What thing? What is it she wants you to do?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Get rid of you to begin with,&rdquo; he snapped out. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s easy enough. We go
      to the prison&mdash;this key lets us in. I leave you in the cell with
      Edison and&mdash;you saw that package in my room? It&rsquo;s a bomb. I explode
      it under the cell and&mdash;there you are!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You promised to do this?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes! I&rsquo;m to get five thousand dollars.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;But you didn&rsquo;t do it, you stopped in time,&rdquo; I said soothingly. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ve
      told me the truth now and&mdash;we&rsquo;ll see what we can do about it.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He scowled at me.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You&rsquo;re crazy. We can&rsquo;t do anything about it. The Germans are in control
      of Richmond. They&rsquo;re watching this hotel.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Ryerson glanced at his watch.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Half-past three. I have four hours to live.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They&rsquo;ll come for me at seven o&rsquo;clock when they find I haven&rsquo;t carried out
      my orders, and I&rsquo;ll be taken to the prison yard and&mdash;shot or&mdash;hanged.
      It&rsquo;s the best thing that can happen to me, but&mdash;I&rsquo;m sorry for you.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;See here, Ryerson,&rdquo; I broke in. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;re such a rotten coward and liar
      and sneak as you say you are, what are you doing here? Why didn&rsquo;t you go
      ahead with your bomb business?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He sat rocking back and forth on the side of the bed, with his head bent
      forward, his eyes closed and his lips moving in a sort of thick mumbling.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve tried to, but&mdash;it&rsquo;s my sister. God! She won&rsquo;t leave me alone.
      She said she&rsquo;d be praying for me and&mdash;all night I&rsquo;ve seen her face.
      I&rsquo;ve seen her when we were kids together, playing around in the old home&mdash;with
      Mother there and&mdash;oh, Christ!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I pass over a desperate hour that followed. Ryerson tried to kill himself
      and, when I took the weapon from him, he begged me to put an end to his
      sufferings. Never until now had I realised how hard is the way of the
      transgressor.
    </p>
    <p>
      I have often wondered how this terrible night would have ended had not
      Providence suddenly intervened. The city hall clock had just tolled five
      when there came a volley of shots from the direction of Monument Avenue.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What&rsquo;s that?&rdquo; cried my poor friend, his haggard face lighting.
    </p>
    <p>
      We rushed to the window, where the pink and purple lights of dawn were
      spreading over the spires and gardens of the sleeping city.
    </p>
    <p>
      The shots grew in volume and presently we heard the dull boom of a siege
      gun, then another and another.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a battle! They&rsquo;re bombarding the city. Look!&rdquo; He pointed towards
      Capitol Square. &ldquo;They&rsquo;ve struck the tower of the city hall. And over
      there! The gas works!&rdquo; He swept his arm towards an angry red glow that
      showed where another shell had found its target.
    </p>
    <p>
      I shall not attempt to describe the burning of Richmond (for the third
      time in its history) on this fateful day, January 20th, 1922, nor to
      detail the horrors that attended the destruction of the enemy&rsquo;s force of
      occupation. Historians are agreed that the Germans must be held blameless
      for firing on the city, since they naturally supposed this daybreak attack
      upon their own lines to be an effort of the American army and retaliated,
      as best they could, with their heavy guns.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was days before the whole truth was known, although I cabled the London
      <i>Times</i> that night, explaining that the American army had nothing to
      do with this attack, which was the work of an unorganised and
      irresponsible band of ten or twelve thousand mountaineers gathered from
      the wilds of Virginia, North Carolina and Kentucky and Tennessee. They
      were moon-shiners, feudists, hilly-billies, small farmers and
      basket-makers, men of lean and saturnine appearance, some of them horse
      thieves, pirates of the forest who cared little for the laws of God or man
      and fought as naturally as they breathed.
    </p>
    <p>
      These men came without flags, without officers, without uniforms. They
      crawled on their bellies and carried logs as shields. They knew and cared
      nothing for military tactics and their strategy was that of the wild
      Indian. They fought to kill and they took no prisoners. It seems that a
      Virginia mountain girl had been wronged by a German officer and that was
      enough.
    </p>
    <p>
      For weeks the mountaineers had been advancing stealthily through the
      wilderness, pushing on by night, hiding in the hills and forests by day;
      and they had come the last fifty miles on foot, leaving their horses back
      in the hills. They were armed with Winchester rifles, with old-time
      squirrel rifles, with muzzle loaders having long octagonal barrels and
      fired by cups. Some carried shot guns and cartridges stuffed with buckshot
      and some poured in buckshot by the handful. They had no artillery and they
      needed none.
    </p>
    <p>
      The skill in marksmanship of these men is beyond belief, there is nothing
      like it in the world. With a rifle they will shoot off a turkey&rsquo;s head at
      a hundred yards (this is a common amusement) and as boys, when they go
      after squirrels, they are taught to hit the animals&rsquo; noses only so as not
      to spoil the skins. It was such natural fighters as these that George
      Washington led against the French and the Indians, when he saved the wreck
      of Braddock&rsquo;s army.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Germans were beaten before they began to fight. They were surrounded
      on two sides before they had the least idea that an enemy was near. Their
      sentries were shot down before they could give the alarm and the first
      warning of danger to the sleeping Teutons was the furious rush of ten
      thousand wild men who came on and came on and came on, never asking
      quarter and never giving it.
    </p>
    <p>
      When the Germans tried to charge, the mountaineers threw themselves flat
      on the ground and fought with the craft of Indians, dodging from tree to
      tree, from rock to rock, but always advancing. When the Germans sent up
      two of their scouting aeroplanes to report the number of the enemy&rsquo;s
      forces, the enemy picked off the German pilots before the machines were
      over the tree tops. Here was a mixture of native savagery and efficiency,
      plus the lynching spirit, plus the pre-revolutionary American spirit and
      against which, with unequal numbers and complete surprise, no
      mathematically trained European force had the slightest chance.
    </p>
    <p>
      The attack began at five o&rsquo;clock and at eight everything was over; the
      Germans had been driven into the slough of Chickahominy swamp to the
      northeast of Richmond (where McClellan lost an army) and slaughtered here
      to the last man; whereupon the mountaineers, having done what they came to
      do, started back to their mountains.
    </p>
    <p>
      Meantime Richmond was burning, and my poor friend Ryerson and I were
      facing new dangers.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Come on!&rdquo; he cried with new hope in his eyes. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ve got a chance, half a
      chance.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Our one thought now was to reach the prison before it was too late, and we
      ran as fast as we could through streets that were filled with terrified
      and scantily clad citizens who were as ignorant as we were of what was
      really happening. A German guard at the prison gates recognised Ryerson,
      and we passed inside just as a shell struck one of the tobacco factories
      along the river below us with a violent explosion. A moment later another
      shell struck the railway station and set fire to it.
    </p>
    <p>
      Screams of terror arose from all parts of the prison, many of the inmates
      being negroes, and in the general confusion, we were able to reach the
      unused wing where Edison was confined.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Give me that big key&mdash;quick,&rdquo; whispered Ryerson. &ldquo;Wait here.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I obeyed and a few minutes later he beckoned to me excitedly from a
      passageway that led into a central court yard, and I saw a white-faced
      figure bundled in a long coat hurrying after him. It was Thomas A. Edison.
    </p>
    <p>
      Just then there came a rush of footsteps behind us with German shouts and
      curses.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They&rsquo;re after us,&rdquo; panted Randolph. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve got two guns and I&rsquo;ll hold &lsquo;em
      while you two make a break for it. Take this key. It opens a red door at
      the end of this passage after you turn to the right. Run and&mdash;tell my
      sister I&mdash;made good&mdash;at the last.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I clasped his hand with a hurried &ldquo;God bless you&rdquo; and darted ahead. It was
      our only chance and, even as we turned the corner of the passage, Ryerson
      began to fire at our pursuers. I heard afterwards that he wounded five and
      killed two of them. I don&rsquo;t know whether that was the count, but I know he
      held them until we made our escape out into the blazing city. And I know
      he gave his life there with a fierce joy, realising that the end of it, at
      least, was brave and useful.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXVI. &mdash; RIOTS IN CHICAGO AND GERMAN PLOT TO RESCUE THE CROWN
      PRINCE
    </h2>
    <p>
      The first weeks of January, 1922, brought increasing difficulties and
      perplexities for the German forces of occupation in America. With
      comparative ease the enemy had conquered our Atlantic seaboard, but now
      they faced the harder problem of holding it against a large and
      intelligent and totally unreconciled population. What was to be done with
      ten million people who, having been deprived of their arms, their cities
      and their liberties, had kept their hatred?
    </p>
    <p>
      The Germans had suffered heavy losses. The disaster to von Hindenburg&rsquo;s
      army in the battle of the Susquehanna had cost them over a hundred
      thousand men. The revolt of Boston, the massacre of Richmond, had weakened
      the Teuton prestige and had set American patriotism boiling, seething,
      from Maine to Texas, from Long Island to the Golden Gate. There were
      rumours of strange plots and counter-plots, also of a new great army of
      invasion that was about to set sail from Kiel. Evidently the Germans must
      have more men if they were to ride safely on this furious American
      avalanche that they had set in motion, if they were to tame the fiery
      American volcano that was smouldering beneath them.
    </p>
    <p>
      In this connection I must speak of the famous woman&rsquo;s plot that resulted
      in the death of several hundred German officers and soldiers and that
      would have caused the death of thousands but for unforeseen developments.
      This plot was originated by women leaders of the militant suffrage party
      in New York and Pennsylvania (the faction led by Mrs. O. H. P. Belmont not
      approving) and soon grew to nation-wide importance with an enrolled body
      of twenty thousand militant young women, each one of whom was pledged to
      accomplish the destruction of one of the enemy on a certain Saturday night
      between the hours of sunset and sunrise.
    </p>
    <p>
      By a miracle these women kept their vow of secrecy until the fatal
      evening, but at eight o&rsquo;clock the plot was revealed to Germans in
      Philadelphia through the confession of a young Quakeress who, after
      playing her part for weeks, had fallen genuinely in love with a Prussian
      lieutenant and simply could not bring herself to kill him when the time
      came.
    </p>
    <p>
      I come now to a sensational happening that I witnessed in Chicago, to
      which city I had journeyed after the Richmond affair for very personal
      reasons. If this were a romance and not a plain recital of facts I should
      dwell upon my meeting with Mary Ryerson and our mutual joy in each finding
      that the other had escaped unharmed from the perils of our recent
      adventures.
    </p>
    <p>
      Miss Ryerson, it appeared, after the discovery of her daring disguise had
      been released on parole by order of General Langthorne, who believed her
      story that she had taken this desperate chance as the only means of saving
      Thomas A. Edison. Mary had heard the story of her brother&rsquo;s heroic death
      and to still her grief, had thrown herself into work for the Red Cross
      fund under Miss Boardman and Mrs. C.C. Rumsey. She had hit upon a charming
      way of raising money by having little girls dressed in white with American
      flags for sashes, lead white lambs through the streets, the lambs bearing
      Red Cross contribution boxes on their backs. By this means thousands of
      dollars had been secured.
    </p>
    <p>
      On the evening following my arrival in Chicago, I had arranged to take
      Miss Ryerson to a great recruiting rally in the huge lake-front auditorium
      building, but when I called at her boarding-house on Wabash Avenue, I
      found her much disturbed over a strange warning that she had just
      received.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Something terrible is going to happen tonight,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;There will be
      riots all over Chicago.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I asked how she knew this and she explained that a deaf and dumb man named
      Stephen, who took care of the furnace, a man in whose rather pathetic case
      she had interested herself, had told her. It seems he also took care of
      the furnace in a neighbouring house which was occupied by a queer German
      club, really a gathering place of German spies.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;He overheard things there and told me,&rdquo; she said seriously, whereupon I
      burst out laughing.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What? A deaf and dumb man?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You know what I mean. He reads the lips and I know the sign language.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The main point was that this furnace man had begged Miss Ryerson not to
      leave her boardinghouse until he returned. He had gone back to the German
      club, where he hoped to get definite information of an impending
      catastrophe.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s some big coup they are planning for tonight,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;We must
      wait here.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      So we waited and presently, along Wabash Avenue, with crashing bands and a
      roar of angry voices, came an anti-militarist socialist parade with floats
      and banners presenting fire-brand sentiments that called forth jeers and
      hisses from crowds along the sidewalks or again enthusiastic cheers from
      other crowds of contrary mind.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You see, there&rsquo;s going to be trouble,&rdquo; trembled the girl, clutching my
      arm. &ldquo;Read that!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      A huge float was rolling past bearing this pledge in great red letters:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I refuse to kill your father. I refuse to slay your mother&rsquo;s son. I
      refuse to plunge a bayonet into the breast of your sweetheart&rsquo;s brother. I
      refuse to assassinate you and then hide my stained fists in the folds of
      any flag. I refuse to be flattered into hell&rsquo;s nightmare by a class of
      well-fed snobs, crooks and cowards who despise our class socially, rob our
      class economically and betray our class politically.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      At this the hostile crowds roared their approval and disapproval. Also at
      another float that paraded these words:
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What is war? For working-class wives&mdash;heartache. For working-class
      mothers&mdash;loneliness. For working-class children&mdash;orphanage. For
      peace&mdash;defeat. For death&mdash;a harvest. For nations&mdash;debts.
      For bankers&mdash;bonds, interest. For preachers on both sides&mdash;ferocious
      prayers for victory. For big manufacturers&mdash;business profits. For
      &lsquo;Thou Shalt Not Kill&rsquo;&mdash;boisterous laughter. For Christ&mdash;contempt.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I saw that my companion was deeply moved.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It&rsquo;s all true, what they say, isn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; she murmured.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes, it&rsquo;s true, but&mdash;we can&rsquo;t change the world, we can&rsquo;t give up our
      country, our independence. Hello!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      A white-faced man had rushed into the parlour, gesticulating violently and
      making distressing guttural sounds. It was Stephen.
    </p>
    <p>
      Uncomprehending, I watched his swift signs.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What is it? What is he trying to say?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Wait!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Her hands flew in eager questions and the man answered her.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; she cried. &ldquo;The riots are a blind to draw away the police and the
      troops. They&rsquo;re marching against the Blackstone Hotel now&mdash;a thousand
      German spies&mdash;with rifles.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The Blackstone Hotel! I realised in a moment what that meant. The German
      Crown Prince was still a prisoner at the Blackstone, in charge of General
      Langhorne. It was a serious handicap to the enemy that we held in our
      power the heir to the German throne. They dared not resort to reprisals
      against America lest Frederick William suffer.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;They mean to rescue the Crown Prince?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I rushed to the telephone to call up police headquarters, but the wires
      were dead&mdash;German spies had seen to that.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Come!&rdquo; I said, seizing her arm. &ldquo;We must hustle over to the auditorium.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Fortunately the great recruiting hall was only a few blocks distant and as
      we hurried there Miss Ryerson explained that the furnace man, Stephen,
      before coming to us, had run to McCormick College, the Chicago home for
      deaf students, and given the alarm.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What good will that do?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;What good! These McCormick boys have military drill. They are splendid
      shots. Stephen says fifty of them will hold the Germans until our troops
      get there.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I hope so.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      I need not detail our experiences in the enormous and rather disorderly
      crowd that packed the auditorium building except to say that ten minutes
      later we left there followed by eighty members of the Camp Fire Club (they
      had organised this appeal for recruits), formidable hunters of big game
      who came on the run carrying the high power rifles that they had used
      against elephants and tigers in India and against moose and grizzlies in
      this country. Among them were Ernest Thompson Seton, Dan Beard, Edward
      Seymour, Belmore Brown, Edward H. Litchfield and his son, Herbert.
    </p>
    <p>
      Under the command of their president, George D. Pratt, these splendid
      shots proceeded with all speed to the Blackstone Hotel, where they found a
      company of deaf riflemen, under the command of J. Frederick Meagher, about
      seventy in all, guarding the doors and windows. Not a moment too soon did
      they arrive for, as they entered the hotel, hoarse cries were heard
      outside and presently a bomb exploded at the main entrance, shattering the
      heavy doors and killing nine of the defenders, including Melvin Davidson,
      Jack Seipp and John Clarke, the Blackfoot Indian, famous for his wood
      carvings and his unerring marksmanship.
    </p>
    <p>
      Meantime messengers had been sent in all directions, through the rioting
      city, calling for troops and police and in twenty minutes, with the
      arrival of strong reinforcements, the danger passed.
    </p>
    <p>
      But those twenty minutes! Again and again the Germans came forward in
      furious assaults with rifles and machine guns. The Crown Prince must be
      rescued. At any cost he must be rescued.
    </p>
    <p>
      No! The Crown Prince was not rescued. The defenders of the Hotel
      Blackstone had their way, a hundred and fifty against a thousand, but they
      paid the price. Before help came forty members of the Camp Fire Club and
      fifty of those brave deaf American students gave up their lives, as is
      recorded on a bronze tablet in the hotel corridor that bears witness to
      their heroism.
    </p>
    <p>
      I must now make my last contribution to this chapter of our history, which
      has to do with motives that presently influenced the Crown Prince towards
      a startling decision. I came into possession of this knowledge as a
      consequence of the part I played in rescuing Thomas A. Edison after his
      abduction by the Germans.
    </p>
    <p>
      One of the first questions Mr. Edison asked me as we escaped in a swift
      automobile from the burning and shell-wrecked Virginia capital, had a
      direct bearing on the ending of the war.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Mr. Langston,&rdquo; he asked, &ldquo;did the Committee of Twenty-one receive my
      wireless about the airship expedition?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes, sir, they got it,&rdquo; I replied, and then explained the line of
      reasoning that had led the Committee to, disregard Mr. Edison&rsquo;s warning.
    </p>
    <p>
      {Illustration: &ldquo;MY FRIENDS, THEY SAY PATRIOTISM IS DEAD IN THIS LAND. THEY
      SAY WE ARE EATEN UP WITH LOVE OF HONEY, TAINTED WITH A YELLOW STREAK THAT
      MAKES US AFRAID TO FIGHT. IT&rsquo;S A LIE! I AM SIXTY YEARS OLD, BUT I&rsquo;LL FIGHT
      IN THE TRENCHES WITH MY FOUR SONS BESIDE ME. AND YOU MEN WILL DO THE SAME.
      AM I RIGHT?"}
    </p>
    <p>
      He listened, frowning.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Huh! That sounds like Elihu Root.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;It was,&rdquo; I admitted.
    </p>
    <p>
      For hours as we rushed along, my distinguished companion sat silent and I
      did not venture to break in upon his meditations, although there were
      questions that I longed to ask him. I wondered if it was Widding&rsquo;s sudden
      death in the Richmond prison that had saddened him.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was not until late that afternoon, when we were far back in the Blue
      Ridge Mountains, that Mr. Edison&rsquo;s face cleared and he spoke with some
      freedom of his plans for helping the military situation.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;There&rsquo;s one thing that troubles me,&rdquo; he reflected as we finished an
      excellent meal at the Allegheny Hotel in Staunton, Virginia. &ldquo;I wonder if&mdash;let&rsquo;s
      see! You have met the Crown Prince, you interviewed him, didn&rsquo;t you?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Twice,&rdquo; said I.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Is he intelligent&mdash;<i>really </i>intelligent? A big open-minded man
      or&mdash;is he only a prince?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;He&rsquo;s more than a prince,&rdquo; I said, &ldquo;he&rsquo;s brilliant, but&mdash;I don&rsquo;t know
      how open-minded he is.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Edison drummed nervously on the table.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;If we were only dealing with a Bismarck or a von Moltke! Anyhow, unless
      he&rsquo;s absolutely narrow and obstinate&mdash;&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Oh, no.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Good! Where are the Committee of Twenty-one? In Chicago?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;And the Crown Prince too?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Yes.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll be there to-morrow and&mdash;listen! We can destroy the German
      fleet. Widding&rsquo;s invention will do it. Poor Widding! It broke his heart to
      see America conquered when he knew that he could save the nation if
      somebody would only listen to him. But nobody would.&rdquo; Edison&rsquo;s deep eyes
      burned with anger. &ldquo;Thank God, I listened.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      It seemed like presumption to question Mr. Edison&rsquo;s statement, yet I
      ventured to remind him that several distinguished scientists had declared
      that the airship <i>America</i> could not fail to destroy the German
      fleet.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Pooh!&rdquo; he answered. &ldquo;I said the <i>America</i> expedition would fail. The
      radio-control of torpedoes is uncertain at the best because of
      difficulties in following the guide lights. They may be miles away, shut
      off by fog or waves; but this thing of Widding&rsquo;s is sure.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Has it been tried?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Heavens! No! If it had been tried the whole world would be using it.
      After we destroy the German fleet the whole world will use it.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Is it some new principle? Some unknown agency?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      He shook his head. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s nothing new about it. It&rsquo;s just a sure way to
      make an ordinary Whitehead torpedo hit a battleship.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Although I was consumed with curiosity I did not press for details at this
      time and my companion presently relapsed into one of his long silences.
    </p>
    <p>
      We reached Chicago the next afternoon and, as the great inventor left me
      to lay his plans before the Committee of Twenty-one, he thanked me
      earnestly for what I had done and asked if he could serve me in any way.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I suppose you know what I would like?&rdquo; I laughed.
    </p>
    <p>
      He smiled encouragingly.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Still game? Well, Mr. Langston, if the Committee approves my plan, and I
      think they will, you can get ready for another big experience. Take a
      comfortable room at the University Club and wait.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> </a>
    </p>
    <div style="height: 4em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>
    <h2>
      CHAPTER XXVII. &mdash; DECISIVE BATTLE BETWEEN GERMAN FLEET AND AMERICAN
      SEAPLANES CARRYING TORPEDOES
    </h2>
    <p>
      I did as he bade me and was rewarded a week later for my faith and
      patience. I subsequently learned that this week (the time of my wonderful
      experience with Mary Ryerson) was spent by the Committee of Twenty-one in
      explaining to the Crown Prince exactly what the Widding-Edison invention
      was. Models and blue prints were shown and American and German experts
      were called in to explain and discuss all debatable points. And the
      conclusion, established beyond reasonable doubt, was that German warships
      could not hope to defend themselves against the Widding-Edison method of
      torpedo attack. This was admitted by Field Marshal von Hindenburg and by
      Professor Hugo Münsterberg, who were allowed to bring scientists of their
      own choosing for an absolutely impartial opinion. Unless terms were made
      the German fleet faced almost certain destruction.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Crown Prince was torn by the hazards of this emergency. He could not
      disregard such a weight of evidence. He knew that, without the support of
      her fleet, Germany must abandon her whole campaign in the United States
      and withdraw her forces from the soil of America. This meant failure and
      humiliation, perhaps revolution at home. The fate of the Hohenzollern
      dynasty might hang upon his decision.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; he concluded haughtily, &ldquo;I refuse to yield. If I cable the
      Imperial Government in Berlin it will be a strong expression of my wish
      that our new army of invasion, under convoy of the German fleet, sail from
      Kiel, as arranged, and join in the invasion of America at the earliest
      possible moment.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      And so it befell. On January 24th a first section of the new German
      expedition, numbering 150,000 men, sailed for America. On January 29th our
      advance fleet of swift scouting aeroplanes, equipped with wireless and
      provisioned for a three days&rsquo; cruise, flew forth from Grand Island in the
      Niagara River, and, following the St. Lawrence, swept out over the
      Atlantic in search of the advancing Teutons.
    </p>
    <p>
      Two days later wireless messages received in Buffalo informed us that
      German transports, with accompanying battleships, had been located off the
      banks of Newfoundland and on February 1st our main fleet of aeroboats, a
      hundred huge seaplanes, equipped with Widding-Edison torpedoes, sailed
      away over Lake Erie in line of battle, flying towards the northeast at the
      height of half a mile, ready for the struggle that was to settle the fate
      of the United States. The prayers of a hundred million Americans went with
      them.
    </p>
    <p>
      And now Mr. Edison kept his promise generously by securing for me the
      privilege of accompanying him in a great 900-horse-power seaplane from
      which, with General Wood, he proposed to witness our attack upon the
      enemy.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We may have another passenger,&rdquo; said the General mysteriously as we
      stamped about in our heavy coats on the departure field, for it was a cold
      morning.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;All aboard,&rdquo; called out the pilot presently from his glass-sheltered seat
      and I had just taken my place in the right hand cabin when the sound of
      several swiftly arriving motors drew my attention and, looking out, I was
      surprised to see the Crown Prince alighting from a yellow car about which
      stood a formal military escort. General Wood stepped forward quickly to
      receive His Imperial Highness, who was clad in aviator costume.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Our fourth passenger!&rdquo; whispered Edison.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;You don&rsquo;t mean that the Crown Prince is going with us?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The inventor nodded.
    </p>
    <p>
      I learned afterwards that only at the eleventh hour did the imperial
      prisoner decide to accept General Wood&rsquo;s invitation to join this memorable
      expedition.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I have come, General,&rdquo; said the Prince, saluting gravely, &ldquo;because I feel
      that my presence here with you may enable me to serve my country.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I am convinced Your Imperial Highness has decided wisely,&rdquo; answered the
      commander-in-chief, returning the salute.
    </p>
    <p>
      An hour later, at the head of one of the aerial squadrons that stretched
      behind us in a great V, we were flying over snow-covered fields at eighty
      miles an hour, headed for the Atlantic and the German fleet. Our
      seaplanes, the most powerful yet built of the Curtiss-Wright 1922 model,
      carried eight men, including three that I have not mentioned, a wireless
      operator, an assistant pilot and a general utility man who also served as
      cook. Two cabins offered surprisingly comfortable accommodations,
      considering the limited space, and we ate our first meal with keen relish.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We have provisions for how many days?&rdquo; asked the Crown Prince.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;For six days,&rdquo; said General Wood.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;But, surely not oil for six days!&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We have oil for only forty-eight hours of continuous flying, but Your
      Imperial Highness must understand that our seaplanes float perfectly on
      the ocean, so we can wait for the German fleet as long as is necessary and
      then rise again.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      The Prince frowned at this and twisted his sandy moustache into sharper
      upright points.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;When do you expect to sight the German fleet?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;About noon the day after to-morrow. We shall go out to sea sometime in
      the night and most of to-morrow we will spend in ocean manoeuvres. Your
      Imperial Highness will be interested.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      In spite of roaring propellers and my cramped bunk I slept excellently
      that night and did not waken until a sudden stopping of the two engines
      and a new motion of the seaplane brought me to consciousness. The day was
      breaking over a waste of white-capped ocean and we learned that Commodore
      Tower, who was in command of our main air squadron, fearing a storm, had
      ordered manoeuvres to begin at once so as to anticipate the gale. We were
      planing down in great circles, preparing to rest on the water, and, as I
      looked to right and left, I saw the sea strangely covered with the great
      winged creatures of our fleet, mottle-coloured, that rose and fell as the
      green waves tossed them.
    </p>
    <p>
      I should explain that these seaplanes were constructed like catamarans
      with twin bodies, enabling them to ride on any sea, and between these
      bodies the torpedoes were swung, one for each seaplane, with a simple
      lowering and releasing device that could be made to function by the touch
      of a lever. The torpedo could be fired from the seaplane either as it
      rested on the water or as it skimmed over the water, say at a height of
      ten feet, and the released projectile darted straight ahead in the line of
      the seaplane&rsquo;s flight.
    </p>
    <p>
      With great interest we watched the manoeuvres which consisted chiefly in
      the practice of signals, in rising from the ocean and alighting again and
      in flying in various formations.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;From how great a distance do you propose to fire your torpedoes?&rdquo; the
      Crown Prince asked Mr. Edison, speaking through a head-piece to overcome
      the noise.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll run our seaplanes pretty close up,&rdquo; answered the inventor, &ldquo;so as
      to take no chance of missing. I guess we&rsquo;ll begin discharging torpedoes at
      about 1,200 yards.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;But your seaplanes will be shot to pieces by the fire of our
      battleships.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Some will be, but not many. Our attack will be too swift and sudden. It&rsquo;s
      hard to hit an aeroplane going a mile in a minute and, before your gunners
      can get the ranges, the thing will be over.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Besides,&rdquo; put in General Wood, &ldquo;every man in our fleet is an American who
      has volunteered for duty involving extreme risk. Every man will give his
      life gladly.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      About ten o&rsquo;clock in the morning on February 3rd our front line flyers,
      miles ahead of us, wirelessed back word that they had sighted the German
      fleet, and, a few minutes later, we saw smoke columns rising on the far
      eastern horizon. I shall never forget the air of quiet authority with
      which General Wood addressed his prisoner at this critical moment.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I must inform Your Imperial Highness that I have sent a wireless message
      to the admiral of the German fleet informing him of your presence here as
      a voluntary passenger. This seaplane is identified by its signal flags and
      by the fact that it carries no torpedo. We shall do everything to protect
      Your Imperial Highness from danger.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I thank you, sir,&rdquo; the prince answered stiffly.
    </p>
    <p>
      General Wood withdrew to his place in the observation chamber beside Mr.
      Edison.
    </p>
    <p>
      Swiftly we flew nearer to the enemy&rsquo;s battleships, which were advancing in
      two columns, led by two super-dreadnoughts, the <i>Kaiser Friedrich</i>
      and the <i>Moltke</i>, with the admiral&rsquo;s flag at her forepeak and flanked
      by lines of destroyers that belched black smoke from their squat funnels.
      With our binoculars we saw that there was much confusion on the German
      decks as they hastily cleared for action. Our attack had evidently taken
      them completely by surprise and they had no flyers ready to dispute our
      mastery of the air.
    </p>
    <p>
      Presently General Wood re-entered the cabin.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I have a wireless from Commodore Tower saying that everything is ready.
      Before it is too late I appeal to Your Imperial Highness to prevent the
      destruction of these splendid ships and a horrible loss of life. Will Your
      Highness say the word?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;No!&rdquo; answered the Crown Prince harshly.
    </p>
    <p>
      General Wood turned to the cabin window and nodded to the assistant pilot,
      who dropped overboard a signal smoke ball that left behind, as it fell, a
      greenish spiral trail. Straightway, the Commodore&rsquo;s seaplane, a mile
      distant, broke out a line of flags whereupon six flyers from six different
      points leaped ahead like sky hounds on the scent, shooting forward and
      downward towards their mighty prey. The remainder of the sky fleet circled
      away at safe distances of three, four or five miles, waiting the result of
      this first blow, confident that the <i>Moltke</i> was doomed.
    </p>
    <p>
      Doomed she was. In vain the great battleship turned her guns, big and
      little, against these snarling, swooping creatures of the air that came at
      her like darting vultures all at once from many sides, but swerved at the
      twelve hundred yard line and took her broadside on with their torpedoes,
      fired them and were gone.
    </p>
    <p>
      Six white paths streaked the ocean beneath us marking the course of six
      torpedoes and three of them found their target. Three of them missed, but
      that was because the gunners were excited. There is no more excuse for a
      torpedo missing a dreadnought at a thousand yards than there is for a
      pistol missing a barn door at twenty feet!
    </p>
    <p>
      The <i>Moltke</i> began to sink almost immediately. Through our glasses we
      watched her putting off life boats and we saw that scarcely half of them
      had been launched when she lurched violently to starboard and went down by
      the head. Her boats, led by one flying the admiral&rsquo;s flag, made for the
      sister dreadnought, but had not covered a hundred yards when Commodore
      Tower signalled again and six other seaplanes darted into action and, by
      the same swift manosuvres, sank the <i>Kaiser Friedrich</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      In this action we lost two seaplanes.
    </p>
    <p>
      Now General Wood, white-faced, re-entered the cabin.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Has Your Imperial Highness anything to say?&rdquo; asked the American
      commander.
    </p>
    <p>
      Silent and rigid sat the heir to the German throne, his hands clenched,
      his nostrils dilating, his lips hard shut.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;If not,&rdquo; continued General Wood, &ldquo;I shall, with great regret, signal
      Commodore Tower to sink that transport, which means, I fear, the loss of
      many thousands of German lives.&rdquo; He pointed to an immense dark grey vessel
      of about the tonnage of the <i>Vaterland</i>.
    </p>
    <p>
      The Crown Prince neither answered nor stirred and again the American
      Commander nodded to the assistant pilot. Once more the smoke ball fell,
      the signal of attack was given and a third group of seaplanes sped forward
      on their deadly mission. The men aboard this enormous transport equalled
      in numbers the entire male population of fighting age in a city like New
      Haven and of these not twenty were saved. And we lost two more seaplanes.
    </p>
    <p>
      We had now used eighteen of our hundred available torpedoes and had sunk
      three ships of the enemy.
    </p>
    <p>
      At this moment the sun&rsquo;s glory burst through a rift in the dull sky,
      whereupon our fleet, welcoming the omen, threw forth the stars and stripes
      from every flyer and sailed nearer the stricken fleet hungry for further
      victories. I counted twenty transports and half a dozen battleships.
      Proudly we circled over them, knowing that our power of destruction meant
      safety and honour for America.
    </p>
    <p>
      In the observation chamber General Wood watched, frowning while the
      wireless crackled out another message from Commodore Tower. Where should
      we strike next?
    </p>
    <p>
      In the cabin sat the Crown Prince, his face like marble and the anguish of
      death in his heart.
    </p>
    <p>
      Suddenly, a little thing happened that turned Frederick William towards a
      decision which practically ended the war. The little thing was a burst of
      music from the <i>Koenig Albert</i>, steaming at the head of the nearer
      battleship column two miles distant. On she came, shouldering great waves
      from her bows while hundreds of blue-jackets lined her rails as if to
      salute or defy the tragic fate hanging over them.
    </p>
    <p>
      As General Wood appeared once more before his tortured prisoner, there
      floated over the sea the strains of &ldquo;Die Wacht Am Rhein,&rdquo; whereupon up on
      his feet came the Crown Prince and, head bared, stood listening to this
      great hymn of the Fatherland, while tears streamed down his face.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I yield,&rdquo; he said in broken tones. &ldquo;I cannot stand out any longer. I will
      do as you wish, sir.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;My terms are unconditional surrender,&rdquo; said the American commander, &ldquo;to
      be followed by a truce for peace negotiations. Does Your Imperial Highness
      agree to unconditional surrender?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Those are harsh terms. In our talk at Chicago Your Excellency only asked
      that I prevent this expedition from sailing. I am ready to order the
      expedition back to Germany.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      General Wood shook his head.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Conditions are different now. Your Imperial Highness refused my Chicago
      suggestion and chose the issue of battle which has turned in our favour.
      To the victors belong the spoils. These battleships are our prizes of war.
      These German soldiers in the troopships are our prisoners.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Impossible!&rdquo; protested the Prince. &ldquo;Do you think five hundred men in
      aeroplanes can make prisoners of a hundred and fifty thousand in
      battleships?&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I do, sir,&rdquo; declared General Wood with grim finality. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s a
      perfectly safe prison&mdash;down below.&rdquo; He glanced into the green abyss
      above which we were soaring. &ldquo;I must ask Your Imperial Highness to decide
      quickly. The Commodore is waiting.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Every schoolboy knows what happened then, how the Prince, in this crisis,
      turned from grief to defiance, how he dared General Wood to do his worst,
      how the American commander sank the <i>Koenig Albert</i> and two more
      transports in the next half hour with a loss of five seaplanes, and how,
      finally, Frederick William, seeing that the entire German expedition would
      be annihilated, surrendered absolutely and ran up the stars and stripes
      above German dreadnoughts, transports and destroyers. For the first time
      in history an insignificant air force had conquered a great fleet. The
      Widding-Edison invention had made good.
    </p>
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <hr />
    <p>
      <br /><br />
    </p>
    <p>
      I need not dwell upon details of the German-American Peace Conference
      which occupied the month of February, 1922. These are matters of familiar
      record. The country went from one surprise to another as Germany yielded
      point after point of her original demands. Under no circumstances would
      she withdraw her armies from the soil of America unless she received a
      huge indemnity, but at the end of a week she agreed to withdraw without
      any indemnity. Firmly she insisted that the United States must abrogate
      the Monroe Doctrine, but she presently waived this demand and agreed that
      the Monroe Doctrine might stand. Above all she stood out for the
      neutralisation of the Panama Canal. Here she would not yield, but at the
      close of the conference she did yield and on February 22nd, 1922, Germany
      signed the treaty of Pittsburg which gave her only one advantage, namely,
      the repossession of her captured fleet.
    </p>
    <p>
      It was not until a fortnight later, after the invading transports had
      sailed for home and the last German soldier had left America, that we
      understood why the enemy had dealt with us so graciously. On March 4th,
      1922, the news burst upon the world that France and Russia, smarting under
      the inconclusive results of the Great War, had struck again at the Central
      Empires, and we saw that Germany had abandoned her invasion of America not
      because of our air victory, but because she found herself involved in
      another European war. She was glad to leave the United States on any
      terms.
    </p>
    <p>
      A few weeks later in Washington (now happily restored as the national
      capital) I was privileged to hear General Wood&rsquo;s great speech before a
      joint committee of the Senate and the House of Representatives. The
      discussion was on national preparedness and I thrilled as the general rose
      to answer various Western statesmen who opposed a defence plan calling for
      large appropriations on the ground that, in the present war with Germany
      and in her previous wars, America had always managed to get through
      creditably without a great military establishment and always would.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Gentlemen,&rdquo; replied General Wood, &ldquo;let us be honest with ourselves in
      regard to these American wars that we speak of so complacently, these wars
      that are presented in our school books as great and glorious. How great
      were they? How glorious were they? Let us have the truth.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Take our War of the Revolution. Does any one seriously maintain that this
      was a great war? It was not a war at all. It was a series of skirmishes.
      It was the blunder of a stupid English king, who never had the support of
      the English people. Our revolutionary armies decreased each year and, but
      for the interposition of the French, our cause, in all probability, would
      have been lost.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;And the war of 1812? Was that great and glorious? Why did we win? Because
      we were isolated by the Atlantic Ocean (which in these days of steam no
      longer isolates us) and because England was occupied in a death struggle
      with Napoleon.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;In our Civil War both North and South were totally unprepared. If either
      side at the start had had an efficient army of 100,000 men that side would
      have won overwhelmingly in the first six months.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Our war with Spain in 1898 was a joke, a pitiful exhibition of
      incompetency and unreadiness in every department. We only won because
      Spain was more unprepared than we were. And as to our great naval victory,
      the truth is that the Spanish fleet destroyed itself.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Gentlemen, we have never had a real war in America. This invasion by
      Germany was the beginning of a real war, but that has now been
      marvellously averted. Through extraordinary good fortune we have been
      delivered from this peril, just as, by extraordinary good fortune, we
      gained some successes over the Germans, like the battle of the Susquehanna
      and our recent seaplane victory, successes that were largely accidental
      and could never be repeated.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;I assure you, gentlemen, it is madness for us to count upon continued
      deliverance from the war peril because in the past we have been lucky,
      because in the past wide seas have guarded us, because in the past our
      enemies have quarrelled among themselves, or because American
      resourcefulness and ingenuity have been equal to sudden emergencies. To
      permanently base our hopes of national safety and integrity upon such
      grounds is to choose the course adopted by China and to invite for our
      descendants the humiliating fate that finally overwhelmed China, which
      nation has now had a practical suzerainty forced upon her by a much
      smaller power.
    </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;There is only one way for America to be safe from invasion and that is
      for America to be ready for it. We are not ready today, we never have been
      ready, yet war may smite us at any time with all its hideous slaughter and
      devastation. Our vast possessions constitute the richest, the most
      tempting prize on earth, and no words can measure the envy and hatred that
      less rich and less favoured nations feel against us.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      &ldquo;Gentlemen, our duty is plain and urgent. We must be prepared against
      aggression. We must save from danger this land that we love, this great
      nation built by our fathers. We must have, what we now notoriously lack, a
      sufficient army, a satisfactory system of military training, battleships,
      aeroplanes, submarines, munition plants, all that is necessary to uphold
      the national honour so that when an unscrupulous enemy strikes at us and
      our children he will find us ready. If we are strong we shall, in all
      probability, avoid war, since the choice between war and arbitration will
      then be ours.&rdquo;
     </p>
    <p>
      Scenes of wild enthusiasm followed this appeal of the veteran commander,
      not only at the Capitol, but all over the land when his words were made
      public. At last America had learned her bitter lesson touching the folly
      of unpreparedness, the iron had entered her soul and now, in 1922, the
      people&rsquo;s representatives were quick to perform a sacred duty that had been
      vainly urged upon them in 1916. Almost unanimously (even Senators William
      Jennings Bryan and Henry Ford refused to vote against preparedness) both
      houses of Congress declared for the fullest measure of national defence.
      It was voted that we have a strong and fully manned navy with 48
      dreadnoughts and battle cruisers in proportion. It was voted that we have
      scout destroyers and sea-going submarines in numbers sufficient to balance
      the capital fleet. It was voted that we have an aerial fleet second to
      none in the world. It was voted that we have a standing army of 200,000
      men with 45,000 officers, backed by a national force of citizens trained
      in arms under a universal and obligatory one-year military system. It was
      voted, finally, that we have adequate munition plants in various parts of
      the country, all under government control and partly subsidised under
      conditions assuring ample munitions at any time, but absolutely preventing
      private monopolies or excessive profits in the munition manufacturing
      business.
    </p>
    <p>
      This was declared to be&mdash;and God grant it prove to be&mdash;America&rsquo;s
      insurance against future wars of invasion, against alien arrogance and
      injustice, against a foreign flag over this land.
    </p>
    <h3>
      FINIS
    </h3>
    <div style="height: 6em;">
      <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />
    </div>







<pre>





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