| BOOK ONE: THE COMING OF THE MARTIANS
CHAPTER 17: THE "THUNDER CHILD"
    Had the Martians aimed only at destruction, they might
 on Monday have annihilated the entire population of London,
 as it spread itself slowly through the home counties.  Not
 only along the road through Barnet, but also through Edgware
 and Waltham Abbey, and along the roads eastward to South-end and Shoeburyness, and south of the Thames to Deal and
 Broadstairs, poured the same frantic rout.  If one could have
 hung that June morning in a balloon in the blazing blue
 above London every northward and eastward road running out
 of the tangled maze of streets would have seemed stippled
 black with the streaming fugitives, each dot a human agony
 of terror and physical distress.  I have set forth at length in
 the last chapter my brother's account of the road through
 Chipping Barnet, in order that my readers may realise how
 that swarming of black dots appeared to one of those concerned.  Never before in the history of the world had such a
 mass of human beings moved and suffered together.  The
 legendary hosts of Goths and Huns, the hugest armies Asia
 has ever seen, would have been but a drop in that current.
 And this was no disciplined march; it was a stampede--a
 stampede gigantic and terrible--without order and without
 a goal, six million people unarmed and unprovisioned, driving
 headlong.  It was the beginning of the rout of civilisation, of
 the massacre of mankind.    Directly below him the balloonist would have seen the
 network of streets far and wide, houses, churches, squares,
 crescents, gardens--already derelict--spread out like a huge
 map, and in the southward BLOTTED.  Over Ealing, Richmond,
 Wimbledon, it would have seemed as if some monstrous pen
 had flung ink upon the chart.  Steadily, incessantly, each black
 splash grew and spread, shooting out ramifications this way
 and that, now banking itself against rising ground, now
 pouring swiftly over a crest into a new-found valley, exactly
 as a gout of ink would spread itself upon blotting paper.    And beyond, over the blue hills that rise southward of
 the river, the glittering Martians went to and fro, calmly
 and methodically spreading their poison cloud over this
 patch of country and then over that, laying it again with
 their steam jets when it had served its purpose, and taking
 possession of the conquered country.  They do not seem to
 have aimed at extermination so much as at complete demoralisation and the destruction of any opposition.  They exploded
 any stores of powder they came upon, cut every telegraph,
 and wrecked the railways here and there.  They were ham-stringing mankind.  They seemed in no hurry to extend the
 field of their operations, and did not come beyond the central
 part of London all that day.  It is possible that a very considerable number of people in London stuck to their houses
 through Monday morning.  Certain it is that many died at
 home suffocated by the Black Smoke. |