The Angel of the Revolution: A Tale of the Coming TerrorGriffith, George Chetwynd
Science
The Angel of the Revolution: A Tale of the Coming Terror
Griffith, George Chetwynd
Science fiction
No human words could convey any adequate conception of that night of
carnage and terror. The assailants were allowed to advance far into
the mighty maze of streets and byways with so little resistance, that
they began to think that the great city would fall an easy prey to
them after all. But as they approached the main arteries of central
London they came suddenly upon barricades so skilfully disposed that
it was impossible to advance without storming them, and from which,
as they approached them, burst out tempests of rifle and machine
gunfire, under which the heads of their columns melted away faster
than they advanced.
Light, quick-firing guns, posted on the roofs of lofty buildings,
rained death and mutilation upon them. The air-ships, flying hither
and thither a few hundred feet above the house-tops, like spirits of
destruction, sent their shells into their crowded masses and wrought
the most awful havoc of all with their frightful explosives, blowing
hundreds of men to indistinguishable fragments at every shot, while
from the windows of every house that was not in ruins came a
ceaseless hail of missiles from every kind of firearm, from a
magazine rifle to a shot-gun.
When morning came the Great Eastern Railway and the Thames had been
cleared and opened, and the hearts of the starving citizens were
gladdened by the welcome spectacle of train after train pouring in
laden with provisions from Harwich, and of a fleet of steamers,
flying the Federation flag, which filled the Thames below London
Bridge, and was rapidly discharging its cargoes of food at the
wharves and into lighters.
As fast as the food could be unloaded it was distributed first to the
troops manning the barricades, and then to the markets and shops,
whence it was supplied free in the poorer districts, and at the usual
prices in the richer ones. All that day London feasted and made
merry, for now the Thames was open there seemed to be no end to the
food that was being poured into the city which twelve hours before
had eaten its last scanty provisions. As soon as one vessel was
discharged another took its place, and opened its hold filled with
the necessaries and some of the luxuries of life.
The frightful butcheries at the barricades had stopped for the time
being from sheer exhaustion on both sides. One cannot fight without
food, and the defenders were half-starved when they began. Rage and
the longing for revenge had lent them strength for the moment, but
twelve hours of incessant street fighting, the most wearing of all
forms of battle, had exhausted them, and they were heartily glad of
the tacit truce which gave them time to eat and drink.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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