Another perspective, and one that probably more accurately descibes Churchills actions that day.

A call went out for troops from the Tower of London - a call that reached Home Secretary Churchill in his morning bath. Dripping wet, Churchill hurried to the telephone and granted permission to use whatever force was necessary. Once dressed, he went to the Home Office for more news, but found little.

"In these circumstances," wrote Churchill later, "I thought it my duty to see what was going on myself, and my advisers concurred in the propriety of such a step. I must, however, admit that convictions of duty were supported by a strong sense of curiosity which perhaps it would have been well to keep in check."

On to Sidney Street be went! Crowds had gathered behind the cordon lines by the time WSC arrived. There were several cries of "'Oo let 'em in?" referring to the Liberal Government's lenient immigration policies. Churchill's party made its way to the neighborhood of the besieged house, where the Home Secretary, wearing a top hat and fur-collared overcoat, viewed the action.

The gunfire continued its fierce reverberations. A company of Scots Guards from the Town occupied a building behind #100 and riddled the upper floors of the house with bullets. Amazingly, but in good British fashion, everyday life went on as normal nearby, and a postman actually made his rounds a few houses away.

Churchill now found himself in an embarrassing position. He had no wish to assume personal command of operations at the scene, but his high office inevitably attracted responsibility. "I saw now," he wrote, "that I should have done better to have remained quietly in my office. On the other hand, it was impossible to get into one's car and drive away while matters stood in such great uncertainty, and moreover were extremely interesting."

As usual, Churchill was full of ideas. He suggested dragging up heavy artillery batteries; or storming the house from several directions simultaneously; or advancing up the staircase behind a steel shield. A search for such a shield was begun in nearby foundries. An unexpected solution, however, soon presented itself. Wisps of smoke began drifting from the upper windows, and soon the top floor was ablaze. Slowly the conflagration made its way down to the lower levels, driving the gunmen before it.

The presence of the Home Secretary now became very useful. A fire brigade, determined to do its duty as it saw it, rushed up to the police barricades and demanded to be allowed through to extinguish the flames. The police refused to accommodate them, and a heated argument ensued. Churchill intervened and forbade the fire brigade to approach the house. But he enjoined them to stand by should the fire threaten to spread to adjacent buildings.

The crisis, however, was now past. The fire engulfed the ground floor, the ceiling and upper floors collapsed, and the existence of life in what was left of the building clearly became impossible. Scores of guns were trained on the front door, which never opened. At last, the police lines dissolved, the fire brigade was unleashed, and the Home Secretary went home. The charred bodies of Svaars and Joseph were recovered.

Over the next several weeks, Churchill was hooted and jeered for the personal part he took in the Siege. In Parliament, Arthur Balfour said: "We are concerned to observe photographs in the illustrated newspapers of the Home Secretary in the danger-zone. I understand what the photographer was doing, but why the Home Secretary?"

Did Churchill act improperly in going to the scene? Churchill himself afterwards believed so, and called Balfour's comment "not altogether unjust." Rumbelow indicates agreement without discussing the question at any length. They are probably right, on the general principle that those in high command should remain at the nerve centers of control and communication rather than direct events at the front. In this instance, however, certainly no great harm was done by Churchill's appearance at Sidney Street, and he may have saved the lives of several.

His motives need particular exoneration. He was accused at the time of grandstanding, or "playing to the gallery." Certainly Churchill never lacked a sense of the dramatic. His impulse, though, was not one of publicity but rather a strong, genuine curiosity and desire to see the action firsthand. Though still young, he was an old campaigner and war correspondent. After more than a decade away from fields of martial strife, he must have found the attraction of a gunbattle in the heart of London irresistible. It is delightful to observe that the same impulse nearly prompted him many years later to accompany Allied liberating forces across the Channel on D-Day, an action from which he was barely dissuaded only at the last moment.