Meanwhile, in the North Sea, two thousand miles away, more than that had laid down its arms; and there had begun off Harwich, on Wednesday, November 20th, the delivery into our hands of the German submarines. Conceived in sin, these had been foul from the beginning--they had never even been built but as instruments of murder--and it was perhaps fitting that they should be the first of the German Fleet to be handed over. Nor had any admiral earned a better right to receive them than Sir Reginald Tyrwhitt. Leaving by moonlight at 5 o'clock in the morning in his flagship the _Curacoa,_ followed by the light cruisers _Dragon_, _Centaur_, _Coventry_, _Danæ_, {288} and an escort of destroyers, the leading German submarines were encountered at the appointed rendezvous soon after seven. This was at a spot thirty-five miles east of Harwich, all the British crews being at Action Stations, and the German submarines accompanied by two transports that were to take their crews back to Germany. The first of these to appear through the mist was the ex-hospital ship _Sierra Ventana_ followed by the _Titania_, succeeded in her turn by the long single file of the first detachment of twenty submarines. While Admiral Tyrwhitt advanced toward the end of the line, the cruiser _Dragon_ was detached to lead the procession inshore, a couple of airships and three sea-planes passing and repassing overhead. The next rendezvous was to be near Cutler's Buoy, some eight miles out of Harwich, where, from British destroyers, the crews were to be embarked that would take the submarines into harbour. These were met at about half-past ten, and there then ensued a scene of humiliation such as no great Power had ever passed through since men first went down to the sea in ships. Those of the Germans that were necessary to run the engines were to be retained at their posts, but the navigating crews for the twenty submarines were waiting in the _Melampus_ and _Firedrake_. Strict orders had been issued that there were to be no demonstrations; and indeed it was rather with contempt--perhaps with a sort of amazed half-pity--that the British sailors took up their duties.