While this vigorous attack on the right flank was in progress, the enemy made a sudden dash upon Stretford.

The edge of the town itself--or rather suburb--lies but a short distance from the Mersey, and the turnpike road runs straight away over the river through Sale and Altrincham to Northwich. At the end of the town nearest the river a road leading down from Barton joins the main road, and at the junction is a large red-brick modern hotel, the Old c.o.c.k, while adjoining is the Manchester Tramway Company's stable and terminus. At a little distance behind lies a high embankment, which carries the railway from Manchester to Liverpool, while the Mersey itself, though not wide, has steep banks with earthworks thrown up to prevent floods. Hence the force holding this position found ready-made defences which were now of the utmost value.

The defenders here included three batteries of Royal Artillery, one battalion of the Manchester Regiment, the 2nd Volunteer Battalion of the same regiment, and one of the Lancashire Fusiliers, a field company of Engineers, half the 14th (King's) Hussars with their machine gun section, and a company of signallers. Trenches had been dug at various points, and earthworks thrown up all along the line from Chorlton over to Flixton. Across the junction of the two roads opposite the Old c.o.c.k a great barricade had been constructed, and behind this was a powerful battery that commanded the level country away towards Altrincham. The bridges carrying the road and railway over the river had both been demolished by engineers, and many other precautions had been taken to prevent the enemy forcing a pa.s.sage across.

At last, with a swiftness that was surprising, the expected a.s.sault was made. Its strength was terrific, and the carnage on both sides appalling.

The first dash across was effected by the Russians from the rifle range near Old Hall, and this was rapidly followed by another from the bank opposite the battery at Stretford, while further down a third attack was made near Mersey House, close to Ashton.

Of the three, the strongest, of course, was that upon Stretford. The enemy had, by a good deal of neat manoeuvring, brought their main body within the triangle bounded on the one side by the road from Cheadle to Altrincham, on the second by the road from the latter place to the river, and the third by the river itself.

Pontoons were floated at many points, and while some cavalry forded the river, infantry and artillery rapidly crossed in the face of a terrific fire which was pouring upon them.

Smokeless powder being used, the positions of the invaders were not obscured, and it could be seen that the British were effecting terrible execution. Hundreds of the foe who were in the act of crossing were picked off, and sh.e.l.ls falling upon the pontoons destroyed them. The latter, however, were quickly replaced, and the force of the Tsar, by reason of the overwhelming numbers that had hurled themselves upon Stretford, succeeded, after a desperately-contested fight, in breaking the line of defence between Chorlton-with-Hardy and Fallowfield, and advancing by short rushes upon Manchester.

But the British infantry in their trenches behaved splendidly, and made the roads from Old Hall at Sale right along to Partington quite untenable, so the continuous advance of the enemy cost them very dearly.

Russian sh.e.l.ls bursting in Stretford killed and injured large numbers of the defenders. Two of them struck the Old c.o.c.k in rapid succession, almost completely demolishing it, but the debris was quickly manned, and rifles soon spoke from its ruined walls. Again, a sh.e.l.l exploding in the large tram stables, set a hay store on fire, and this burned furiously, while away in the centre of the town the Public Library and a number of shops in the vicinity had also been ignited in a similar manner.

At last the thousands of grey-coats swarming over the country fell in such enormous numbers upon the British rifle pits on the Mersey bank, that the first line of defence was at length utterly broken down; but in doing this the enemy's front had become much exposed, whereupon the Maxims on the railway embankment between the river and Barton suddenly burst forth a perfect hail of bullets, and in a short time a whole division of Russian infantry, cavalry, and artillery had been literally swept out of existence.

The batteries down in the Stretford Road, combined with those on the embankment, had up to this moment played greater havoc with the foe than any other. The men of the Manchester Regiment, both Regulars and Volunteers, were displaying the greatest coolness; but unfortunately the Lancashire Fusiliers and the Loyal North Lancashire, who had manned the trenches, had been partially annihilated, the majority lying dead, their bodies scattered over the level fields and roads. Yet, notwithstanding the strenuous opposition of the British batteries at this point, the Russians were bringing up huge reinforcements from Altrincham, Cheadle, and Northenden, and by establishing strong batteries commanding Stretford, they at last, about five o'clock, succeeded in killing nearly half the gallant defenders, and driving back the survivors up the Barton Road.

The tide of grey-coats rushing onward, captured the British guns, and although the batteries on the railway embankment still held out, and the enemy suffered heavily from their Maxims, yet they pressed on into Stretford town, and commenced to sack it. Messrs. Williams, Deacon's Bank, was entered, the safes blown open, and large sums in gold and notes abstracted, shops were entered and looted, and houses ransacked for jewellery.

Thus Stretford fell.

Its streets ran with blood; and on, over the bodies of its brave defenders, the hordes of the Great White Tsar marched towards Manchester.

Meanwhile the British batteries on the railway embankment had also fallen into the hands of the Russians, who were now driving the survivors over towards Barton. They did not, however, retreat without a most desperate resistance. A row of thatched and white-washed cottages at the bend of the road they held for a long time, emptying their magazine rifles with deadly effect upon their pursuers, but at last they were driven north, and half an hour later joined their comrades who had ma.s.sed at Barton, but who had been attacked in great force and fallen back in good order to Pendleton.

By this time the enemy, having pierced the line of outposts, had occupied Barton and Eccles. At the former place they had set on fire a number of factories, and out of mere desire to cause as much damage to property as possible, they had blown up both the bridge that carried the road over the Ship Ca.n.a.l, and also destroyed the magnificent swinging aqueduct which carried the Bridgewater Ca.n.a.l over the other.

This great triumph of engineering--one of the most successful feats of the decade--was blown into the air by charges of gun-cotton, and now lay across the Ship Ca.n.a.l a heap of fallen masonry and twisted iron cantilevers, while the water from the Bridgewater Ca.n.a.l was pouring out in thousands of tons, threatening to flood the surrounding district, and the church opposite had been wrecked by the terrific force of the explosion.

A frightful panic had been caused in Manchester by these reverses. The scenes in the streets were indescribable. At the barricades, however, the enemy met with a desperate resistance.

Three great columns were marching on Manchester at that moment. The first, having broken the line of defence near Fallowfield, divided into two divisions; one, advancing up the Wilmslow Road, stormed the great barricade opposite Rusholme Hall, while the other appeared on the Withington Road, and commenced to engage the defences that had been thrown across Moss Lane and Chorlton Road. The second column advanced to where Eccles Old Road joins Broad Street at Pendleton; and the third, sweeping along up the Stretford Road, met with a terrific resistance at the Botanic Gardens at Trafford, the walls of which, on either side of the road, were loopholed and manned by infantry and artillery; while opposite, the Blind Asylum was held by a regiment of infantry, and a strong barricade, with a battery of 12-pounders, had been established a little further towards the city, at the junction of the Chester and Stretford New Roads.

The enemy advanced here in enormous force; but, seeing the formidable defences, a number of cavalry and infantry turned off along the Trafford Road, blew up the bridge of the Ship Ca.n.a.l in order to prevent a pursuing force of British cavalry from following, and after setting fire to the great dock warehouses and crowd of idle ships, continued along to Eccles New Road, where, however, they were met by another force of our Hussars, and totally routed and cut up.

From this point the tide of battle turned. It was already half-past five, and the sun was sinking when the Russian forces prepared for their final onslaught. Cossacks and Dragoons charged again and again, and infantry with bayonets fixed rushed onward to the barricades in huge grey legions, only to be met by a sweeping rain of British bullets, which filled the roads with great heaps of dead. In these defences, rendered doubly strong by the patriotic action of the stalwart civilians of Manchester, the invaders could make no breach, and before every one of them they fell in thousands.

The men in the entrenchments saw the foe were falling back, and found the attack growing weaker. Then signals were made, and they raised a long hearty cheer when the truth was flashed to them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: RUSSIANS ATTACKING THE BARRICADE IN STRETFORD ROAD, MANCHESTER.]

The news was inspiriting, and they fought on with redoubled energy, for they knew that the great body of reserves from Ashton-under-Lyne, Hyde, and Compstall, as well as those who had been occupying the hills on the edge of the Peak, had been pushed right past Stretford to Barton, and were now advancing like a huge fan, outflanking the Russians and attacking them in their rear.

The British tactics were excellent, for while the invaders were attacked by cavalry and infantry on the one side, the defenders manning the barricades made a sudden sortie, cutting their way into them with bayonet rushes which they could not withstand, and which had a terribly fatal effect.

The Tsar's forces, unable to advance or retreat, and being thus completely surrounded, still fought on, and as they refused to surrender, were literally ma.s.sacred by thousands by British troops, while many guns and horses were captured, thousands of rounds of ammunition seized, and many men taken prisoners.

The fight in that evening hour was the most fiercely contested of any during that day. The fate of Manchester was in the hands of our gallant soldiers, who, although necessarily losing heavily before such an enormous army, behaved with a courage that was magnificent, and which was deserving the highest commendation that could be bestowed.

As dusk gathered into darkness, the enemy were being forced back towards the Mersey over the roads they had so recently travelled, but still fighting, selling their lives dearly. The highways and fields were strewn with their dead and dying, for while infantry fired into their front from the cover of houses and walls, our cavalry, with whirling sabres, fell upon them and hacked them to pieces. Neither Cossacks nor Dragoons proved a match for our Hussars, Lancers, and Yeomanry, and even in face of the machine guns which the Russians brought into play in an endeavour to break the line and escape, our infantry dashed on with grand and magnificent charges, quickly seizing the Nordenfelts, turning their own guns against them, and letting loose a fire that mowed down hundreds.

Across the neighbouring country our forces swept in good attack formation, and all along that great line, nearly six miles in length, the slaughter of Russians was frightful.

In the falling gloom fire flashed from the muzzles of rifles, cannon, and machine guns, and far above the terrible din sounded shrill cries of pain and hoa.r.s.e shouts of despair as the great Army that had devastated our beloved country with fire and sword was gradually annihilated. In those roads in the south of the city the scenes of bloodshed were awful, as a force of over 20,000 Russians were slaughtered because they would not yield up their arms.

Outside Stretford a last desperate stand was made, but ere long some British cavalry came thundering along, and cut them down in a frightful manner, while about the same time a Russian flying column was annihilated over at Davy-Hulme; away at Carrington a retreating brigade of infantry which had escaped over the river was suddenly pounced upon by the defenders and slaughtered; and at Altrincham the enemy's headquarters were occupied, and the staff taken prisoners. Ere the Russian General could be forced to surrender, however, he placed a revolver to his head, and in full view of a number of his officers, blew his brains out.

Then, when the moon shone out from behind a dark bank of cloud just before midnight, she shed her pale light upon the wide battlefield on both sides of the Mersey, whereon lay the bodies of no fewer than 30,000 Russians and 12,000 British, while 40,000 Russians and 16,000 British lay wounded, nearly 10,000 Russians having been disarmed and marched into the centre of the city as prisoners.

The victory had only been achieved at the eleventh hour by dint of great courage and forethought, and being so swift and effectual it was magnificent.

Manchester was safe, and the public rejoicings throughout that night were unbounded.

The loss of life was too awful for reflection, for 12,000 of Britain's heroes--men who had won the battle--were lying with their white lifeless faces upturned to the twinkling stars.

_BOOK III_

_THE VICTORY_

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A SHABBY WAYFARER.

In Suss.e.x the situation was now most critical. The struggle between the French invaders and the line of Volunteers defending London was long and desperate, but our civilian soldiers were bearing their part bravely, showing how Britons could fight, and day after day repelling the repeated a.s.saults with a vigour that at once proved their efficiency.

Three days after the battle at Manchester had been fought and won, a man with slouching gait and woeful countenance, attired in a cheap suit of shabby grey, stood on the steps of the Granton Hotel, at Granton, and with his hands thrust into his pockets gazed thoughtfully out over the broad waters of the Firth of Forth, to where the Fifeshire hills loomed dark upon the horizon. Slowly his keen eyes wandered away eastward to the open sea, an extensive view of which he obtained from the flight of steps whereon he stood, and then with a sigh of disappointment he b.u.t.toned his coat, and, grasping his stick, descended, and walked at a leisurely pace along the road through Newhaven to Leith.

"To-night. To-night at sundown!" he muttered to himself, as he bent his head to the wind.

Involuntarily he placed his hand to his hip to rea.s.sure himself that a letter he carried was still safe.

"Bah!" he continued, "I declare I feel quite timid to-night. Everything is so quiet here; the houses look deserted, and everybody seems to have left the place. Surely they can have no suspicion, and--and if they had?

What does it matter?--eh, what?"

Quickening his pace, he pa.s.sed down the long, quaint street of Newhaven, lined on each side by ancient fishermen's cottages, and then, crossing the railway, pa.s.sed under the wall of Leith Fort, whereon a couple of sentries were pacing. Glancing up at the two artillerymen, with the half-dozen obsolete guns behind them, and their background of gra.s.s-grown mounds and buildings, the wayfarer smiled. He was thinking how different would be the scene at this spot ere long.