eprived of the means of returning, but the military authorities were
convinced that the appearance of an army of 60,000 German troops on
British soil would practically mean the end of the war, especially as
an equally strong French corps was to land in the south. The military
authorities consequently thought they need not trouble themselves
further about the possibility of the troops having to return.

The garrison of Edinburgh had surrendered without resistance, since it
would have been far too weak to offer any opposition to the invading
army. Accordingly the German officers and soldiers could move about
in the town without hindrance. A number of despatches and fresh war
bulletins were found which threw some light upon the strategic position,
although they were partly obscure, and partly contained obvious
falsehoods.

A great naval battle was said to have taken place off Flushing on the
15th of July, ending in the retreat of the German and French fleets
with heavy losses. It was further reported that the British fleet had
destroyed Flushing and bombarded several of the Antwerp forts. Lastly,
according to the newspapers, the English fleet which had been stationed
before Copenhagen had entered Kid harbour and captured all the German
ships inside, the loss of the English battleships at the Kieler Fohrde
being admitted. The German officers were convinced that only the report
of the loss of the two battleships deserved credit, since the English
would hardly have invented such bad news. Everything else, from the
position of things, bore the stamp of improbability on the face of it.

The trumpets blew, the soldiers grasped their arms, the battalions began
their march. The batteries clattered along with a dull rumble. In four
columns, by four routes, side by side the four divisions started for the
south.

XXXIV

THE BATTLE OF FLUSHING

The strategy of red tape, by which the Commander-in-Chief's hands were
tied, was destined, as in so many previous campaigns, to prove on this
occasion also a fatal error to the English.

Sir Percy Domvile, the British admiral, had received with silent rage
the order of battle communicated to him from London--the same order that
had fallen into the hands of the Germans. More than once already he had
attempted to show the Lords of the Admiralty what injury might be caused
by being tied to strict written orders in situations that could not
be foreseen. He now held in his own hands