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Part One Chapter 3 - ENGLAND'S PERIL
When the papers arrived next morning, it was seen that the situation
was even worse than had at first been suspected. Not only had the
Germans effected a landing in Essex, but, in addition, no fewer than
eight other hostile armies had, by some remarkable coincidence, hit on
that identical moment for launching their long-prepared blow.
England was not merely beneath the heel of the invader. It was beneath
the heels of nine invaders.
There was barely standing-room.
Full details were given in the Press. It seemed that while Germany was
landing in Essex, a strong force of Russians, under the Grand Duke
Vodkakoff, had occupied Yarmouth. Simultaneously the Mad Mullah had
captured Portsmouth; while the Swiss navy had bombarded Lyme Regis, and
landed troops immediately to westward of the bathing-machines. At
precisely the same moment China, at last awakened, had swooped down
upon that picturesque little Welsh watering-place, Lllgxtplll, and,
despite desperate resistance on the part of an excursion of Evanses and
Joneses from Cardiff, had obtained a secure foothold. While these
things were happening in Wales, the army of Monaco had descended on
Auchtermuchty, on the Firth of Clyde. Within two minutes of this
disaster, by Greenwich time, a boisterous band of Young Turks had
seized Scarborough. And, at Brighton and Margate respectively, small
but determined armies, the one of Moroccan brigands, under Raisuli, the
other of dark-skinned warriors from the distant isle of Bollygolla, had
made good their footing.
This was a very serious state of things.
Correspondents of the _Daily Mail_ at the various points of attack
had wired such particulars as they were able. The preliminary parley at
Lllgxtplll between Prince Ping Pong Pang, the Chinese general, and
Llewellyn Evans, the leader of the Cardiff excursionists, seems to have
been impressive to a degree. The former had spoken throughout in pure
Chinese, the latter replying in rich Welsh, and the general effect,
wired the correspondent, was almost painfully exhilarating.
So sudden had been the attacks that in very few instances was there any
real resistance. The nearest approach to it appears to have been seen
at Margate.
At the time of the arrival of the black warriors which, like the other
onslaughts, took place between one and two o'clock on the afternoon of
August Bank Holiday, the sands were covered with happy revellers. When
the war canoes approached the beach, the excursionists seem to have
mistaken their occupants at first for a troupe of nigger minstrels on
an unusually magnificent scale; and it was freely noised abroad in the
crowd that they were being presented by Charles Frohmann, who was
endeavouring to revive the ancient glories of the Christy Minstrels.
Too soon, however, it was perceived that these were no harmless Moore
and Burgesses. Suspicion was aroused by the absence of banjoes and
tambourines; and when the foremost of the negroes dexterously scalped a
small boy, suspicion became certainty.
In this crisis the trippers of Margate behaved well. The Mounted
Infantry, on donkeys, headed by Uncle Bones, did much execution. The
Ladies' Tormentor Brigade harassed the enemy's flank, and a
hastily-formed band of sharp-shooters, armed with three-shies-a-penny
balls and milky cocos, undoubtedly troubled the advance guard
considerably. But superior force told. After half an hour's fighting
the excursionists fled, leaving the beach to the foe.
At Auchtermuchty and Portsmouth no obstacle, apparently, was offered to
the invaders. At Brighton the enemy were permitted to land unharmed.
Scarborough, taken utterly aback by the boyish vigour of the Young
Turks, was an easy prey; and at Yarmouth, though the Grand Duke
received a nasty slap in the face from a dexterously-thrown bloater,
the resistance appears to have been equally futile.
By tea-time on August the First, nine strongly-equipped forces were
firmly established on British soil.
Content of Part One Chapter 3 - ENGLAND'S PERIL [P G Wodehouse's novel: The Swoop! or How Clarence Saved England]
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