CHAPTER XXIII A SECOND 'BARALONG?'
We had no illusions about the future. Imprisonment was the best we could expect. If the English were disposed to be unmerciful, it would soon be all over with us. While more and more ships were hurrying to the spot where the Aud had sunk we rowed slowly towards the Bluebell. We could hardly believe our eyes when on approaching the cruiser we saw the reception prepared for us. The crew stood shoulder to shoulder along the ship's side, most of them with rifles at the ready. Every gun and machine-gun on the cruiser was pointed at us, and followed our movements fairly accurately. Were these men devils incarnate? If the position had not been so dreadfully serious one might have been inclined to smile with pity at these men, who were not ashamed to make preparations to shoot down twenty-two German sailors like dogs. Or were they afraid that we, with our two miserable lifeboats, were trying to ram and sink their great cruiser? I almost had that impression.
In order to make myself known, I stood up and waved my hand. It might perhaps prevent a volley being fired next moment. As this evoked no reply, I shouted at the top of my voice in English that we were men of the German navy, and that we claimed the protection of our white flag. In a few moments the answer came from the cruiser: 'The captain only is to come on board.' So we rowed alongside.
For the first time we now saw the enemy at close range. The impression they made on us was anything but favourable. Unlike the crews of ships of the line, such as I have seen before and since, they presented a most unkempt appearance. Only a part of the crew wore uniform. The other seamen and stokers, with their coloured shirts, unwashed, and unshaved, might just as well have belonged to the crew of a small collier. One of the officers, apparently the ship's surgeon, was actually wearing brown civilian trousers and a black uniform jacket. The arms they carried were still stranger than their clothing. Those who had no rifles were provided with all sorts of lethal weapons. Sabres, knives, pistols, and even cutlasses, with huge basket-handles, dating from the earliest days of the English Navy, formed part of the motley armament. The whole scene, the threatening language, and not least the villainous faces of some of the crew, caused me much foreboding. While I was getting out of the boat the officers followed with their pistols every move I made, and I had a feeling that any moment I might receive a bullet in the back. My crew assured me afterwards that while I was going up the ship's side they had the same feeling. And they had plenty of justification for the feeling, for the Baralong case was not by any means the only blot in the history of English naval warfare to account for the general contempt and mistrust with which the English were regarded in Germany.
At the gangway a small, boyish-looking lieutenant received me. He signed to me to go aft, and, under the impression that the captain wished to speak to me there, I did so. At the same time my boat was ordered to row to a distance of fifty yards from the Bluebell. The crew formed a semicircle round me, and the lieutenant took care that they kept a proper distance from me. Then, upon his order, six men with rifles stepped forward and formed a close guard round me. Strangely enough, all the officers had suddenly disappeared from the deck. Shortly afterwards I accidentally noticed the surgeon peeping at me from behind a searchlight on the upper deck. An indefinite suspicion crossed my mind. Surely it was not possible that the English would show such contempt for the laws of war. I still refused to believe it. The next few moments proved to me that I was right.
The lieutenant gave some order in a subdued voice that trembled a little. The six men, standing in a semicircle before me, brought their rifles to the ready. Behind them the rest of the crew continued to pour on me, as before, a torrent of threats and insults of the most vulgar description, while no one made the slightest move to stop them. 'Shoot him, the German swine!' 'Knock him down, the dog! He is not worth wasting powder on!' And these were not by any means the worst expressions which these scallywags used. There could be no doubt it was now a question of life and death. I was to be shot down without any sort of trial, and then it would be the turn of my brave crew. I therefore requested the lieutenant in a respectful but decided tone to conduct me to his commanding officer before he took any further steps. For answer there was a derisive laugh from the crew and more abuse of the lowest sort. The lieutenant said something to his men which I did not catch, whereupon some of them put their rifles to their shoulders. The others kept handling the breach and trigger. It seemed as if the crew would wait no longer for the horrible drama, and they began to whistle and tramp. 'Fetch the other piratical dogs also,' they continued to shout.
My men in the two boats, who had been watching these proceedings from a short distance, began to get restless and made as if to come on board. I signed to them to do nothing precipitate. Then I summoned up my whole English vocabulary and again asked the officer in the most energetic manner to conduct me to his commanding officer, pointing out at the same time that we were legitimate combatants, and demanded that, in accordance with international law, we should be treated as such.
The lieutenant stood before me undecided, looking first to me and then round to his men, as if seeking advice. Then an idea which suddenly occurred to me proved our salvation. In a voice that could be heard on the bridge of the Bluebell I shouted, 'If, instead of treating us as regular prisoners of war, you want to engineer another Baralong affair, inform your commanding officer at once that for each one of us that you unlawfully shoot the German Government will have two English officers shot. If you think that you can answer before God and your conscience for the murder which you intend, then do what you have to do. I have nothing more to say to you.'
This apparently made some impression on the English, for all the shouting stopped at once and the lieutenant after some delay told his men to order arms. At the same time he sent a man forward with a message. About ten minutes afterwards the man came back and whispered something in the officer's ear. The lieutenant then called my two boats alongside and ordered the crew to come on board. We were then thoroughly searched, and the English had the bitter disappointment of finding neither arms nor secret papers on us. When one of my men was asked if he still had any weapons he answered with a loud 'Yes!' Asked where they were, he pointed with a mysterious air to his big sea-boots. Carefully the English felt down his legs, while two men held the unfortunate fellow fast by the arms. He was, without doubt, a very dangerous man. We followed the proceedings very attentively—and what do you think the English fished out? An enormous German sausage which good old Bruhns had intended to take into captivity with him as an 'emergency ration.' With angry blows they pushed him away.
Then we were taken below. I was separated from my men. The other officers now reappeared, and the little lieutenant assured me again and again in a somewhat apologetic tone that he had just now 'only carried out his orders.' The engines of the Bluebell started—we were apparently entering the inner harbour. Half an hour later a launch took us with a tremendous escort to the cruiser Adventure, the flagship of the squadron based in Queenstown. Officers and crew were on deck watching us. Our reception was extremely cool.
I took the opportunity of again warning my men to give nothing away either in conversation or examination, and above all not to get drunk. They were taken forward, while I and the first and second mate were taken to a lock-up in the after-battery, where we were closely guarded.
The food was good, and our treatment at the hands of individual officers was extremely courteous. The captain and the first-officer especially showed us every consideration possible under the circumstances. I need, of course, hardly mention that this consideration was not due exclusively to sympathy for us; for the English were extremely anxious to learn what details they could from us. At the same time I am convinced that they honestly meant what they said in describing our expedition as 'very smart.'
In the afternoon a steamer took us to Spike Island, which lies in the middle of the harbour. From various conversations and from the continuous rushing to and fro of orderlies we gathered that something serious was on foot. We were taken off the cruiser because it was feared the Irish might help us to escape. Had the revolution broken out already? Where on earth was Roger Casement then?
Our escorts were getting larger and larger. Eight officers and nearly a whole company took our little party to the fort. On the way thither we received several shouts of encouragement from the Irish population, which made me hope that we might still be rescued. This was probably also the explanation of the strong escort. Arrived at the fort we were put in separate rooms, which were heavily barred, and double sentries were posted at the doors. The view from the windows was barred by several high walls. A man disguised as a clergyman visited us in our cells which, with the exception of roughly-made tables and iron bedsteads, contained no furniture. I had a feeling that our execution was to take place inside these walls, and that the clergyman had come to prepare us for our end.
But my anxiety turned out to be unfounded. The man, who had probably never been a clergyman, soon betrayed by his clumsy questions that he wanted to examine us. When he informed me finally, 'in confidence,' that he was 'an enthusiastic Irishman,' I knew enough. Fortunately, our sojourn in the fort did not last long. Two hours later we were again taken on board the cruiser. It seemed to me as if the English authorities in their excitement could not decide on the safest place for us. We remained two whole days on board the cruiser.
During this time I had an opportunity of noting the enormous difference between this ship and the Bluebell. Discipline, order, and cleanliness were simply perfect on the Adventure. The officers and men with whom I came in contact were strictly official, but courteous. I mention this fact specially because the English officers and men whom I happened to meet both before and after this, with a few exceptions, who were aware of the duties of their position, showed to a defenceless prisoner of war tactlessness and offensiveness almost without parallel.
During this time the news filtered through that the Irish revolution was in full swing. From a newspaper, which I succeeded in obtaining in spite of my guards, I learned that Roger Casement had been caught. Unfortunately, no details were given.
I certainly found another official report, which appeared to have been intentionally falsified, to the effect that a disguised German auxiliary cruiser, which had tried to land arms and munitions for the Irish rebels, had sunk in Queenstown Harbour, and that Roger Casement was a member of the crew! This latter statement was a lie; but the other statement showed only too clearly that the English knew all about the business. Our position had therefore become very critical.
Time after time I was invited to a 'glass of whisky'—in other words, an examination—by the first officer. The whole staff of the ship was assembled there. To the great disgust of the English, I refused the whisky with thanks, and drank coffee instead till further orders—a drink that did not appeal to these gentlemen. In answer to their numerous questions I told them the fibs which our position necessitated. Among other things I told them we had arms and munitions on board for our troops in Africa, and heavy guns which, after breaking through the blockade, we intended to mount in order to start commerce-raiding. A remark which was dropped in the course of these conversations confirmed my conjecture that the reason why the crew of the Bluebell were so angry was that our action in sinking the Aud had deprived them of the prize money which they would have earned by bringing her safely into port.
Late next day the Adventure weighed anchor. I now occupied the first officer's cabin, which he had very kindly placed at my disposal. A sentry came in and screwed down the dead light of the scuttle, so that I could no longer see out. So we were passing the spot where the Aud sank.
Manœuvring from side to side for what appeared to me to be an eternity; and keeping close in to the lightship (as I was able to see through a crack) the cruiser gained the open sea. Numerous craft were busy round the spot where the Aud sank. Apparently, then, I must have sunk her at a useful spot, for if a small vessel like the Adventure had so much trouble in passing, how would it fare with really big ships?
If I am not mistaken divers were also busy. They were welcome to all they could find, for the water where the Aud lay was too deep even for divers. For this reason I also thought it would be impossible to salve the ship, especially as the strong under-currents would soon bury her in sand.