Behind the barricades south of the Thames it was vaguely known that our Admiralty—whose chief offices had been removed to Portsmouth before the entry of the enemy into London—were keenly alive to the critical position. Reports of the capture of a number of German liners in the Atlantic, and of several ships laden with provisions, attempting to cross the North Sea were spread from mouth to mouth, but so severe was the censorship upon the Press that no word of such affairs was printed.

The London Gazette, that journal which in ordinary circumstances the public never sees, was published each evening at six o’clock, but, alas, in German. It contained Von Kronhelm’s official orders to his army, and the various proclamations regarding the government of London. The Daily Mail, as the paper with the largest circulation, was also taken over as the German official organ.

At the head of each newspaper office in and about Fleet Street was a German officer, whose duty was to read the proofs of everything before it appeared. He installed himself in the editorial chair, and the members of the staff all attempted to puzzle him and his assistants by the use of London slang. Sometimes this was passed by the officer in question, who did not wish to betray his ignorance, but more often it was promptly crossed out. Thus the papers were frequently ridiculous in their opinions and reports.

The drawn game continued.

On one side of the Thames the Germans held complete possession, while on the other the people of London were defiant behind their barricaded bridges. West London was occupied in building barricades in all quarters to prevent any further entry into London, while Von Kronhelm, with his inborn cunning, was allowing the work to proceed. In this, however, the German Commander-in-Chief did not display his usual caution, as will be seen in later chapters of this history.

Once it was rumoured that the enemy intended to besiege the barricades at the bridges by bringing their field howitzers into play, but very soon it became apparent that Von Kronhelm, with discreet forbearance, feared to excite further the London populace.

The fact that the Lord Mayor had been deported had rendered them irritable and viciously antagonistic, while the terms of the indemnity demanded, now known everywhere—as they had been published in papers at Brighton, Southampton, Bristol, and other places—had aroused within the hearts of Londoners a firm resolve to hold their own at no matter what cost.

Beyond all this remained the knowledge of Gerald Graham’s movement—that gigantic association, the League of Defenders, which had for its object the freeing of England from the grip of the now detested eagle of Germany.

Daily the League issued its bulletins, notices, manifestoes, and proclamations, all of which were circulated throughout South London. South Coast resorts were now crowded to excess by fugitive Londoners, as well as towns inland. Accommodation for them all was, of course, impossible, but everywhere were encampments over the Kentish hop fields and the Sussex pastures.

Some further idea of life in South London at this time may be obtained from the personal narrative of Joseph Cane, a tram driver, in the employ of the London County Council, living at Creek Road, Battersea. His story, written by himself, and subsequently published in the Daily Express, was as follows:—