[Editor: This is a chapter from the novel The Coloured Conquest (1904) by “Rata” (Thomas Richard Roydhouse).]
Chapter IX.
The people of Sydney become alarmed. — Approach of the Japanese announced. — The cables held.
“(By Cable) — London, July 8.
“The Daily Telegraph published this morning a despatch from Tokio, stating that its well-known correspondent, Mr. Bennett Burleigh, who had been writing a series of articles on the ‘Chinese Awakening,’ had left Tokio, Japan, in the turbine yacht ‘Fulcrum’ (belonging to his proprietary) for a cruise in the South Pacific.
“A strange incident happened as the ‘Fulcrum’ left the port. A Japanese cruiser signalled her to stop, and, when she failed to respond, fired at her, smashing one of her funnels. The ‘Fulcrum,’ however, raced away from the cruiser.
“Two torpedo destroyers set out after her, but returned unsuccessful.”
That cable appeared in the first edition of the Australian morning papers of July 9, 1908, and excited some comment as to the reason for firing upon the “Fulcrum.” It was generally thought that Burleigh must have been photographing Japanese positions, or something of the sort, and that the local authorities had decided to detain and punish him.
However, the public were soon informed as to the facts.
The first editions of the evening papers contained another cable on the subject.
This stated that the London Daily Telegraph had published an article from Mr. Bennett Burleigh, detailing a scheme by the Japanese to entice the British fleets into a position where they could overwhelm them, and to subsequently proceed with the Conquest of the whole of the White peoples.
Most residents of Sydney, prompted by humorous remarks in the News, considered that Mr. Bennett Burleigh had been drawing the long bow for circulation purposes, and that the London Daily Telegraph had joined the “Yellow Journal” class. They thought little more about it.
* * *
Nevertheless, so persistent had been the reports from the East that the Japanese intended to “have a cut” at Australia, quite irrespective of what might eventuate with China, that a little later on a public meeting was called in the Town Hall, Sydney, to consider Australia’s position to repel an invader.
There was a large attendance, including many who did not take the matter seriously; and, in fact, derived a good deal of amusement at the expense of the speakers.
The meeting decided to send a deputation of citizens to interview the State Premier, and the engagement was fixed for two days ahead.
The morning papers’ comments on the meeting were brief. Both journals considered that citizens were acting within their rights in enforcing upon the attention of the Commonwealth Government, per medium of the State Government, the necessity for maintaining the defence force and material at an adequate standard; at the same time there was no “occasion for hysteria,” and they were “pleased to observe that the speakers had discussed the question in calm, business-like fashion.”
The reports had almost as good a position in the news sheets as the principal football match, but were overshadowed by the account of a sensational divorce case wired from Adelaide.
Consequently it can be understood that the people were not yet roused; or, in fact, had any particular apprehension.
That was to come with a shock.
Sydney was to have a rude awakening.
In a flash the people were enveloped in a cloud of dread that would not move off. I will now tell you how it descended upon them.
* * *
The deputation to the Honorable Mr. Ashton, Premier, duly came off on the day fixed.
The mail from Japan that had arrived just previously had brought very disquieting reports.
Advices from Manila (P.I.) asserted that it was known there for certain — American money having purchased the information from a Japanese official — that a Japanese attempt would be made on the Phillipines, followed by one on Australia.
The account was very circumstantial, and it was declared that there was now no time to prepare for the attack.
Strange to say, nothing sensational was coming through by cable.
There was no specially alarming feature in the news — strikes with deeds of violence in America, trouble between the Vatican and the Spanish Government, the latest airship experiment, and items about the growing animosity between Japan and China.
These latter made me think the Japanese had already got the handling of the cables.
* * *
Members of the deputation were surprised to find not only the Premier awaiting them, but all his colleagues also. Ministers looked very grave and disturbed.
A notable feature of the deputation was the excitement of a number of persons who had adopted an unpatriotic attitude during the war with South Africa. Some of them had foreign names — they were mostly Germans; but others were English enough, and three were Members of Parliament.
These individuals insisted that the members of the Commonwealth Government deserved hanging, and they suggested the tram poles in the street for that purpose. The Government, they contended, should have spent millions on marine mines, field artillery, small arms and ammunition, and should have roused all the States to combine to contribute to the Imperial Navy such increased amount as would enable Britain to truthfully proclaim herself as Mistress of the Seas.
They had talked over the Manila news until they had become badly scared. Not a few had suddenly reversed their opinions.
Mr. Ashton reminded these speakers that they had in the past violently opposed expenditure for defence purposes, and some of them had likewise advocated “cutting the painter.”
They all assured the Premier that he “must be thinking of someone else,” and when he smilingly shook his head — it was a melancholy smile, I noticed — they averred that incorrect interpretation had been put upon their remarks, and that if they were read again quite a different conclusion would be arrived at. Errors of reporters, they said, had created wrong impressions.
A messenger entered and handed Mr. Ashton a telegram.
Source:
Rata, The Coloured Conquest, Sydney (NSW): N.S.W. Bookstall Co., 1904, pp. 70-74
Editor’s notes:
cutting the painter = to cut ties between two entities, to sever a connection; in the context of Australian politics, it is especially used in reference to the separation or independence of Australia from the United Kingdom; it is a reference to the rope called a “painter”, which is used to tie a ship’s boat to a ship (possibly derived from the French “peyntour”, a rope used to hold the anchor to a ship’s side)
drawing the long bow = saying something which is hard to believe; exaggerating, lying, overstating; making an extravagant statement, telling tall tales, stretching the truth, telling incredible or unlikely stories; making a tenuous or inaccurate connection or inference (also rendered as: “drawing a long bow”, “draw a long bow”)
have a cut = to have a go, to attempt to do something, to try to do something
See: “cut n. 1”, Green’s Dictionary of Slang (see entry: “have a cut (at) (v.)”)
marine mine = an anti-shipping mine used during a time of war or hostilities; an explosive mine which is designed to detonate when ships bump into it, with the aim of destroying the ship
news sheet = (also spelt: news-sheet, newssheet) a short publication with news articles (a one-sided or two-sided publication; a publication printed on one sheet, folded to make four pages; an early form of the multi-page newspaper); a newsletter; a small newspaper; a newspaper
See: “History of newspaper publishing”, Wikipedia
paper = newspaper
P.I. = Philippine Islands
Tokio = an archaic spelling of Tokyo (capital city of Japan)
yellow journal = a magazine or newspaper of poor repute, being a periodical publication which commonly uses sensationalism, and which includes articles of dubious accuracy and poor taste (such periodicals are also known as the “yellow press”; with their style being referred to as “yellow journalism”)
See: “Yellow journalism”, Wikipedia
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