THE INVASION OF 1910 & THE GREAT WAR IN ENGLAND IN 1897. William Le Queux

bright and rosy, and the mist cleared from the low meadows beside the Mersey, the distant firing was continuous, and the one or two shells that fell and burst in the centre of the city were precursory of an awful sanguinary struggle. Scarcely a person in that densely populated area had slept that night, and the streets were everywhere full, the most exciting and heartrending scenes being witnessed.

      A great crowd that assembled in Albert Square was addressed by the Mayor from the steps of the Town Hall, and urged to strain every muscle to drive back the invaders, in order that the disaster at Birmingham should not be repeated. Even as he spoke, in the interval of wild cheering and the energetic singing of the National Anthem and "Rule, Britannia," the distant crackling of rifles and the low booming of field guns could be heard.

      It was the din of battle — the catastrophe caused by the cunning spy Von Beilstein, who was still living in luxury in London, and who still posed as the friend of Geoffrey Engleheart and Violet Vayne!

      Geoffrey was still with the Volunteers assisting in the defence of London, but the French spy who had sent the forged orders to our Navy had apparently made good his escape.

      Here, in Manchester, the sound of the guns aroused that patriotic enthusiasm latent in the heart of every Briton. True, they were weary, famished, ill from lack of food, yet they were fiercely determined that the invader should never tread their streets, nor should incendiaries burn or Russian artillery destroy their handsome buildings — monuments of England's wealth and greatness. In St. Peter's Square, at a mass meeting attended by nearly twelve thousand people, a demonstration was made against the enemy, and it was resolved that every man should act his part in the struggle, and that no quarter should be shown the legions of the Tsar; while at another impromptu meeting held in Piccadilly, in the open space opposite the Infirmary, the conduct of the Russians before Birmingham was denounced; and some speakers, using violent language, lashed their hearers into a frenzy of mad excitement, causing an eager rush to the barricades in readiness for the terrible fray.

      As the sun shone out pale and yellow in the stormy sky, the fighting spread quickly down the Mersey banks from Haughton away to Flixton. It became fiercest around Stockport, and over the level pastures the white smoke of rifles puffed from every bush, wall, and fence.

      The Russians were the superior force, for, while all were trained soldiers, not more than a third of the defenders had taken the Queen's shilling, and not more than half of them had ever had an hour's drill in their lives. They were simply volunteers who had found their own arms and banded for the defence of their homes.

      The soldiers of the Tsar, trained under the most rigorous discipline, had considerably improved in tactics, in drill, and in munitions of war since the Crimea, — a fact overlooked by the majority of Britons, — and they had now taken possession of every strategical position where batteries might be established. After fierce fighting over Lyme Park across to Norbury Hall, in which the Russians lost very heavily owing to the British gun fire from the railway embankment, a great charge was made by an enormous body of infantry, who succeeded, after several futile attempts, in carrying the position, and driving the British artillerymen back to the road which runs from Stockport to Marple.

      The embankment which thus fell into the hands of the Muscovite infantry formed one of the strongest defences of Stockport, therefore they at once moved the guns up towards Davenport Station, and commenced shelling the city with the defenders' own guns!

      The panic caused in Stockport was awful, when without warning shells commenced to explode in the crowded barricaded streets, but the Russians were not allowed to have things their own way for long. The British batteries on the opposite railway embankment between Heaton Norris and New Mills formed up at the junction almost opposite Davenport, and opened a terrific fire upon the captured guns.

      For half an hour this continued, and the Russians, standing in an exposed position right on the sky-line, were being swept away by British shells, when suddenly the enemy were joined by reinforcements, whereupon a small force of British infantry, who had been brought quickly along, unperceived by the enemy from Marple, suddenly swarmed up the embankment at Norbury, and, charging along to the Russian position, added a strong rifle fire to that of their artillery.

      The officer commanding the British batteries watched the infantry advance through his field glass, and in a few minutes suddenly ceased his fire, so as to allow the infantry to make the dash for which they were preparing. A heliograph signal was flashed from the batteries, and then, without hesitation, the order was given to charge.

      It was a terribly exciting moment. If they succeeded they would in all probability save Stockport. If they were driven back the town was doomed.

      With admirable pluck the British rushed upon the guns, and for a few minutes there was a fierce struggle hand to hand. Russians, although making a most desperate stand, were every moment being impaled on British bayonets, or, pierced by bullets, they rolled down the slopes into ditches covered in stagnant slime. Hacked to pieces by the small but gallant force of Britons, the enemy were forced at last to give in and retire, leaving more than half their number killed; but with admirable tact, the fugitives were forced down the bank nearest the British batteries. Thus they fell into a trap, for as soon as they attempted to recover themselves, and make a dash to reorganise their line of communications, two British Maxims uttered their sharp rattle, and the whole force were simply mowed down where they stood.

      The fight had been a most desperate one, but, thanks to the heroic charge of the British infantry, Stockport was again safe, and the guns once more in the hands of her defenders.

      Meanwhile, fighting of the fiercest possible description was taking place across the meadows lying between Norbury and Bramhall, and the Russians, unable to withstand the withering British fire, were gradually forced back to Cheadle Hulme, where they were surprised by the defenders and utterly routed. So great was the slaughter, that it is estimated that in this engagement alone, after the recapture of the guns by the British, over 4000 Russians were shot down and 3000 taken prisoners!

      The Russians, finding how desperate was the resistance, and how heavily they were losing, quickly brought up strong reinforcements upon Cheadle, and, after a fiercely-contested conflict, succeeded in driving back the small British force, they being compelled to retreat back over the Mersey to Parr's Wood and Didsbury, afterwards blowing up the bridges, and keeping up a hot fire from the bank, where a large body of Volunteers were already entrenched. By this means, although they were unable to save Cheadle from being burned, they succeeded, by reason of the excellence of their position and the admirable tactics they displayed, in mowing down another 2000 of the Tsar's soldiers. In this instance the laurels remained with a portion of the Manchester Volunteer Brigade, the effect of whose rifle fire was appalling.

      It was now about ten o'clock, and the sky had cleared for a brilliant day. At Chapel-en-le-Frith a large detachment of Cossacks had been swept away by a body of British Hussars who had suddenly descended upon Whitehough, while almost at the same moment a British battery that had been hastily established on Chinley Churn succeeded in wiping out a body of infantry that was advancing with all speed in the neighbourhood of Yeardsley Hall. But one of the most sanguinary portions of the battle was the conflict which spread westward from Cheadle across to Altrincham, Lymm, and Warrington. Already Altrincham had fallen. The fine villas of wealthy Manchester tradesmen and manufacturers, deserted by their owners, had been entered by the uncouth Muscovites and sacked. Every nook and corner had been searched for plate, jewellery, and money, paintings had been ruthlessly torn down, furniture broken and burned, and Russian troopers had made merry in many a handsome drawing-room. Old Field Hall and Timperly Hall had both been ransacked and set on fire with petroleum, while every house at Dunham Massey had been destroyed by incendiaries.

      Elated over their successes, the Russians were collecting their forces preparatory to a decisive rush over the Mersey to Stretford, intending to take that place, and advance by that route upon Manchester. The defenders, who had been warned of this through spies, awaited their chance, and suddenly, when the Russians least expected an attack, a body of British cavalry, backed by infantry, crossed the Mersey, and sweeping down the level turnpike road to Sale, came upon their opponents before they were aware of their presence. The effect of this was frightful. A small body of British Hussars, with some Lancashire