MEMORABLE SCENES.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVI, Issue 97, 19 September 1914, Page 3

MEMORABLE SCENES.

BRITAIN' COES TO WAR. A PAGE OF HISTORY. I (From Sydney Morning Herald's Special j Correspondent.) 1 London, August fi. j For years past the German Army and Navy officers have drunk to each other the toast of "The I>ay." That desire of theirs has dawned at last, and Europe in enflamed in the catastrophe. Historians will write down at length the causes of this quarrel and the reasons for Europe's wholesale entrance into it. Their words will cover volumes, but the opinion of our race to-day, summing up those causes in a single sentence, is Germany's ambition, Germany's arrogance, and Germany's desire to dominate the world. These alone are the motives discernible for us for the overwhelming fury at our doors.

It is clear now that the peace lovers of England who have been so long and subtly taught to believe Germany's protestations of goodwill, and to discount the little faith of those who have never let themselves be convinced, have been hoodwinked and deceived. It is clear now that the mailed fist has been clenched in readiness for the hour when the smooth words Jiad all been spoken. It is clear now that Germany's long years of apparent concern for the welfare of Europe have been a sham and a snare.

THE APPOINTED SPARK. Obviously, the Austrian quarrel with Servia is no warrant for the European war. Obviously, Germany could have ended it with a word, but we now know that that quarrel was the appointed spafk for the firing of the craftily laid mine. The day had come; the time was propitious; Britain's neutrality, if it could not be secured by still smoother words than those so often served, could surely be counted upon, by reason of her chaotic home politics. France was at the mercy of her ancient enemy. Every Australasian should read the White Paper in which Sir Edward Grey's honorable work for peace has just been set out against the duplicity ot the German despatches. Therein is to be. found both the explanation of the war and reason enough for Britain's decision to play her part in it. Her absentation is seen to have been impossible. To have withheld her hand would have been to admit not only that she could be deceived into believing anything, but also that her sense of honor was no more than an illusion.

k GREAT CAUSE, But she has not withheld her hand. to the unbounded joy of France and Russia, and to the unspeakable relief of the shamefully maltreated Belgium. Sno has decided to strike, and to strike hard. She lights because she must fight. She lights, not with any hope of material gain, but for the cause ot unoffending weakness that has been forced to set itself against a despot in arms. It is n great cause this which Britain now goes out to fight. She has fought it before. This time she gratefully acknowledges she will fight it supported by the strength of her Imperial possessions, if she and those who light with her cannot win, then Germany will deserve the spoil 0! the victor. Britain goes into the struggle prepared and confident; she is not blustering, for she knows her men. This week London has witnessed the preliminaries of the great struggle. They descrvc to be set out in some detail. There is inspiration in them.

SPIRIT OF WAK. Yesterday was Sunday. It was a Sunday we never sliall forget. London's customary Sunday is a day of revolutionary reaction from tlm tumult of the six preceding days, with London's thousands of roaring streets, silent and deserted, and London's thunder of movement a mere murmur of itself. Hut yesterday was not as other Sunday's have been. Un the continent of Europe its anxieti"S and enthusiasm would be such as could only be guessed at London; but in London yesterday the spirit of war descended upon us definitely and unmistakably. In 1.-cndon yesterday, London's Sunday and London's people were transformed. The trouble had been growing all the. week. By Saturday it was ob\ious that there' could be only one way. On Sunday morning the streets were tilled with the noise of its warning. Newspaper sellers went running, shouting as t'.iey only can. Kvery hour brought them a new special edition and new and more menacing catchwords. Their papers were sold by the hundred thousand, for the streets were filled with people, and each word of the news was in demand. Groups of men and women stood topom over a single sheet. In the omnibuses the latest edition was pa sß '-d. round as a common absorbing interest. Discussion of one subject, and one only, drew people together upon the sidewalks, for free and voluble give-and-take of opinion and foreboding. On Sunday, too, morning and evening, and throughout dav the London terminals of the Continental railway systems grew into centres of fevered excitement. Tor one i thing, this sudden swift excitement came upon us in the very hour of the I August holiday. The first week of Aug- ! imt would in any case have discovered I Charing Crpss and Victoria railway stations a seething rendezvous of travellers to the Continent; but to-day b ho iday traffic was confused, and suddenly ! a "single swift stroke of fate on the

platforms, ominous placards and telegrams and notice boards, cried a halt to all pleasure-seeking by way of the Channel crossing to France. The cvery-day familiar transit from London to Paris was at an end. There were trains still to be had, but they ran doubtfully, and the course of their journey was more or less problematical. So Charing Cross and Victoria stations became a confusion of startled holiday makers, and a worse confusion of their loads and baggage. But Charing Cross and Victoria stations were more than that; they were for London the first sight of the preparation of war.

AT CHARIXG CROSS. France has called up lier reserves, and upon Victoria stations and Charing Cross converged hundreds of Frenchmen domiciled in London. All day on Sunday they swarmed thither. The holiday tourists made open way for them. Lightly baggaged they hurried across the barriers of derelict pleasure outfits, voluble, gay; their excited words filled the platforms. With fervent embracing and many kissings they took farewell of those left behind. They waved hands from their trains, they were to join the colors, to fight for France. I saw one train load of French reservists thus depart. Last night Charing Cross station was a wild excited place. Hundreds of people were gathered within it, and at the first sound of their cheering thousands came pouring in from the Strand. After that the cheering was a prodigious thing, ami the singing, too, and the enthusiasm of other vocal sorts. The train was waiting, the Frenchmen who were to be its passengers went to it through a narrow lane of access carved out of the solid mass. Each successive group of them had a welcome and farewell that would have done honour to heroes. Hats were raised in the air at their approach, and rounds of mighty cheer swept upon them. Tri-color flags and Union .Tacks waved from the midst of the throng at quick intervals. "The Marsellaise" was sung in chorus by the French section of the crowd, and answered by the sympathetically definite "Rule Britannia" of the English, with "God Save the King" deliriously delivered, and at whatever cost to the island language in a fearsome unison of the French and British tongucß, and at intervals of pause in the singing this ordinarily so typical London railway station was filled with sharp and sinister cries of "Vive La Guerre," "Vice L'Armee," and "Vive La France." The actual departure of the train saw all this fierce enthusiasm gather itself into a frenzy, and the crowd surged from the station upon the massed throngs on the Strand outside, roaring their unlifting appeal to the fighting spirit of Fiance, "Aux Arnica, citoyens, formez vos battalions."

Out in the streets this unforgettable Sunday night has developed into a fiercely patriotic demonstration. Tens of thousands of people were out and about. The hoarse cries of the news sellers were an incessant quick stabbing of the emotions. What news there was could only be of the most meagre character. It came out, nevertheless, in journal after journal, and hour after hour; the sheets containing it were sold as soon as they appeared. Hundreds of thousands of newspapers must have been distributed in London last night.

A CABINET MEETING. Around Trafalgar Square alone were massed huge crowds, and they swarmed from that historic centre away down Whitehall, past the War Office, and the Admiralty. They were brought up against an impassable wall of people at Downing street, where a vast assemblage stood peering into the fateful area where the Cabinet was in constant grapple with the future of England and the Empire. The greatest demonstration of all, perhaps, was the unparalleled enthusiasm outside Buckingham Palace. There on the broad spaces of St. James' Park tens of thousands of Londoners sang and shouted and cheered. The customary, respectful recognition of Royalty was swallowed up in fervent acclaim of the sovereign in the country's crisis. The King and Queen appeared upon the balcony at the Palace. The roars of cheers that greted them, and the thunder ot the National Anthem that followed the cheers was the most tremendous outburst of patriotic sentiment that I have ever beard.