SCARBOROUGH, ONE OF THREE ENGLISH TOWNS BOMBARDED BY GERMAN WARSHIPS of the ship." He himself saw "a number of steel-patched holes, the result of that shell," which to him was "convincing proof that Hartlepool is not an open, undefended town, as widely heralded by the English." Englishmen familiar with Hartlepool still persisted that the only forts Hartlepool had were forts of sand built by children on the beach. As for Scarborough, it boasted only the ruins of an ancient castle, and after this attack lamented the more ruinous state in which that ancient relic found itself. There was not a single fortress-gun in or near the town. The Germans had attacked a half-awake seaside resort. There were three attacking ships, apparently two cruisers and a smaller vessel which some observers thought was a destroyer. They sailed into the South Bay from the northeast, rounding Castle Hill at eight o'clock, and opened fire. Sailing across the bay in the direction of Cayton, they turned about and sailed back again, still firing. The bombardment lasted half an hour. It was difficult from conflicting estimates to decide how many shells were fired, but probably about 100. When they saw no danger to them was to be feared from Castle Hill, the ships gave all their attention to the town. People were killed in their beds and in the streets. Four were killed in one house by a shell which, missing the railway freight-yard, brought down half the side of a house. Four churches were struck and the town hall. The hospital in Friar's Entry escaped, but the building next to it was struck. One shell went through the boundary wall of the power station of the Scarborough electric-supply conduit. The damage mostly in evidence was done on Castle Hill, where the old barracks-then unoccupied-had been razed. The Castle keep and the walls facing south were also damaged. Thrilling stories were told by fishermen who were at sea at the time. They said the German ships, when they came within two miles of the town, were flying the white ensign. One man saw four ships, and at first thought they were British patrol-ships. The crew of his boat were undeceived when they found themselves in an inferno of noise and smoke. The bombardment of the Hartlepools caused a loss of nearly 100 lives in the two boroughs, including 41 civilians and eight soldiers at Hartlepool, and 41 civilians at West Hartlepool. The old borough suffered much more severely than the newer districts of West Hartlepool. Hartlepool had scars, gashes and gaping wounds from one end to the other. The Germans seemed to have varied their fire to cover the widest possible area of workshops and human habitations. Hundreds of houses were seriously damaged, and hundreds more had their windows smashed. Terrible REMAINS OF THE ANCIENT ABBEY OF WHITBY havoc was wrought along the sea front. The district lying behind the lighthouse was severely battered, but the battery on the front, that guards the entrance to the port, was not touched. Behind and beside it houses were unroofed and holes made in their walls. A whole terrace on the front escaped injury. A few yards behind it a residential square had on one side hardly a house left whole. Further in the rear, by the Rugby football field, was a long row of houses every one of which was extensively damaged. Half were no longer habitable. A violent earthquake could not have caused the same measure of ruin. Except as an example of "frightfulness," the visit to the Hartlepools was fruitless. Work was going on next day in workshops and at docks as usual, the port working normally, and merchant ships were steaming home through sea fogs just as if nothing had happened. The hostile cruisers did nothing but sacrifice nearly a hundred lives of innocent non-combatants. The cruisers steamed close into Whitby, and when about a mile off the port discharged shots into the town, which was undefended by artillery. It was estimated that 100 shots were fired. After the bombardment, they steamed out to sea and were soon lost to view. Two men were killed and houses and other property were damaged. Whitby Abbey, close to the signal station, was struck, as was the Abbey Lodge. News that the venerable ruins of Whitby had been damaged caused a feeling of anger, as deep in purpose as in resentment, to pass through England. These ruins, battered by the storms of many generations, stood still unconquered, perched high above the huddled beauty of the old port and the town near the edge of a cliff and on the right bank of the Esk. They stood almost alone, with the quaint old parish church of St. Mary between them and the town, at the head of a precipitous flight of 199 steps. This German exploit occurred in waters associated in all American minds with the famous victory of John Paul Jones with the Bonhomme Richard. What surprized most readers was the great daring and skill of the Germans in piloting vessels through British mine-fields and making off after a raid, which, as far as it went, was perfectly successful. That it was also perfectly aimless in a military sense seemed an inevitable conclusion. Berlin merely announced that a part of the High Seas Fleet had bombarded certain "fortified towns" on the east coast of England, but added that, "regarding the further course of its action, no information can be given." It was impossible to avoid associating these deeds with the advice of one of Germany's popular naval writers, published the day before the raid occurred. "We must see clearly," he wrote in the Deutsche Tageszeitung, "that, in order to fight with success, we are obliged to fight ruthlessly-ruthlessly in the proper meaning of the word, that is to say, without any regard whatever for any conceivable thing which lies outside the line leading to our final military goal. Our sole thought is devoted to increasing vengeance by any and every means which can lead to victory." Like a fantom, gliding over the sea, in which for days she had been supposed to be lost, the British passenger liner Appam of the West African trade, on February 1, |