At such a hasty informal meeting, nothing, however, could be done. The Mayor and Councillors were assured by the Volunteer officers that everything possible under the circumstances had been arranged for the defence of the Tyne. Property worth millions was at stake, and now that the news had spread from mouth to mouth the streets around the Town Hall were filled with crowds of excited, breathless citizens, anxious to know what steps were being taken to insure their protection.
So loudly did they demand information, that the Mayor was compelled to appear for a moment and address a few words to them, assuring them that arrangements had been made which he hoped would be found adequate to repel the foe. This appeased them in a measure, and the crowd dispersed; but in the other thoroughfares the excitement was intensified, and famished thousands rushed aimlessly about, many going out upon the High Level and Low Level Bridges and straining their eyes down the river in endeavour to catch a glimpse of the enemy.
Heavy and continuous firing could be heard as the dark evening dragged on, and presently, just before nine o'clock, the anxious ones upon the bridges saw the flash of guns as the invading vessels rounded the sharp bend of the river at the ferry beyond Rotterdam Wharf.
The sight caused the people to rush panic-stricken up into the higher parts of Newcastle or across the bridges into Gateshead, and from both towns a rapid exodus was taking place, thousands fleeing into the country. From gun-vessels, torpedo gunboats, and cruisers, shot and shell poured in continuous streams into the wharves, shipping, and congested masses of houses on either bank.
The houses along City Road, St. Lawrence Road, Quality Row, and Byker Bank, on the outskirts of Newcastle, suffered severely, while shots damaged the great Ouseburn Viaduct, wrecked St. Dominic's Roman Catholic Chapel, and blew away the roof of the new Board School, a prominent feature of the landscape.
Several shells fell and exploded in Jesmond Vale. One burst and set fire to the Sandyford Brewery, and one or two falling in Portland Road caused widespread destruction and terrible loss of life. The London and Hamburg Wharves, with the shipping lying near, were soon blazing furiously, and all along Quay Side, right up to the Guildhall, shops and offices were every moment being destroyed and swept away. New Greenwich and South Shore on the Gateshead side were vigorously attacked, and many shots fired over the Salt Marshes fell in the narrow thoroughfares that lie between Sunderland Road and Brunswick Street.
Upon the enemy's ships the Volunteer batteries on the commanding positions on either side of the high banks poured a galling fire, one battery at the foot of the Swing Bridge on the Gateshead side effecting terrible execution. Their guns had been well laid, and the salvoes of shell played about the French gun-vessels and torpedo boats, causing frightful destruction among the crews. Both Newcastle and Gateshead, lying so much higher than the river, were in a certain measure protected, and the high banks afforded a wide command over the waterway. At various points, including the entrances to the High Level Bridge, at the Side, the Close, New Chatham, and the Rabbit Banks, the Volunteers had opened fire, and were keeping up a terrible cannonade. The dark river reflected the red light which flashed forth every moment from gun muzzles, while search-lights from both ships and shore were constantly streaming forth, and the thunder of war shook the tall factory chimneys to their very foundations.
Heedless of the strenuous opposition, the invading ships kept up a vigorous fire, which, aimed high, fell in the centre of Newcastle with most appalling effect. In the midst of the crowds in Newgate and Pilgrim Streets shells exploded, blowing dozens of British citizens to atoms and tearing out the fronts of shops. One projectile, aimed at the strangely shaped tower of St. Nicholas' Cathedral, struck it, and swept away the thin upper portion, and another, crashing into the sloping roof of the grim, time-mellowed relic Black Gate, shattered it, and tore away part of the walls.
The old castle and the railway bridge were also blown up in the earlier stages of the bombardment, and the square tower of St. John's fell with a sudden crash right across the street, completely blocking it. From end to end Grainger Street was swept by French mélinite shells, which, bursting in rapid succession, filled the air with tiny flying fragments, each as fatal as a bullet fired from a rifle. The French shell is much more formidable than ours, for, while the latter breaks into large pieces, the former is broken up into tiny and exceedingly destructive fragments.
In the midst of this terrible panic a shot cut its way through the Earl Grey Monument, causing it to fall, many persons being crushed to death beneath the stones, while both the Central Exchange and the Theatre Royal were now alight, shedding a brilliant glare skyward.
At this time, too, the whole of Quay Side was a mass of roaring, crackling flames, the thin spire of St. Mary's Roman Catholic Cathedral had been shot away, Bainbridge's great emporium was blazing furiously, and the Art Club premises had taken fire. One shot had fallen at the back of the Town Hall, and torn an enormous hole in the wall, while another, entering the first floor of the County Hotel, had burst with awful force, and carried away the greater part of its gloomy façade.
In the Central Station opposite, dozens of shells had exploded, and it was now on fire, hopelessly involved together with the adjoining Station Hotel. The grey front of the imposing Chronicle building had been wrecked by a shell that had descended upon the roof, and a row of dark old-fashioned houses in Eldon Square had been demolished.
The same fate had been shared by the Co-operative Wholesale Society's warehouse, the Fish Market, the Journal office, and both the Crown and Métropole Hotels at the bottom of Clayton Street.
Yet the firing continued; the terrified citizens were granted no quarter. The Royal Arcade was blown to atoms, the new red brick buildings of the Prudential Assurance Company were set on fire, and were blazing with increasing fury. The building of the North British and Mercantile Assurance Company, the Savings Bank at the corner of Newgate Street, and the Empire Theatre were wrecked. Along New Bridge Street dozens of houses were blown to pieces, several fine residences in Ellison Place were utterly demolished and blocked the roadway with their débris, and the whole city, from the river up to Brandling Village, was swept time after time by salvoes of devastating shots. Rows of houses fell, and in hundreds the terrified people were massacred. Away over the Nun's Moor shells were hurled and burst, and others were precipitated into the great Armstrong works at Elswick.
Suddenly, in the midst of the incessant thunder, a series of terrific explosions occurred, and the great High Level Bridge collapsed, and fell with an awful crash into the Tyne. The enemy had placed dynamite under the huge brick supports, and blown them up simultaneously. A few moments later the Swing Bridge was treated in similar manner; but the enemy, under the galling fire from the Volunteer batteries, were now losing frightfully. Many of the new guns at the Elswick works were brought into action, and several ironclads in the course of construction afforded cover to those desperately defending their homes.
But this blow of the invaders had been struck at a most inopportune moment, and was evidently the result of an order that had been imperfectly understood. It caused them to suffer a greater disaster than they had anticipated. Six torpedo boats and two gun-vessels had passed under the bridge, and, lying off the Haughs, were firing into the Elswick works at the moment when the bridges were demolished, and the débris, falling across the stream, cut off all means of escape.
The defenders, noticing this, worked on, pounding away at the hostile craft with merciless monotony, until one after another the French and Russians were blown to atoms, and their vessels sank beneath them into the dark, swirling waters.
While this was proceeding, two mines, one opposite Hill Gate, at Gateshead, and the other near the Rotterdam Wharf, on the Newcastle side, were fired by the Volunteer Engineers, who thus succeeded in blowing up two
