Title: The Retreat from Mons
Author: Gordon, George Stuart
Language: English
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                    _*The Operations of the British
                       Army in the Present War*_



                              *THE RETREAT
                               FROM MONS*


                           WITH A PREFACE BY
                       FIELD MARSHAL LORD FRENCH



                          BOSTON AND NEW YORK
                        HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
                     The Riverside Press Cambridge
                                  1917



              COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
                          ALL RIGHTS RESERVED


                         _Published July 1917_



                               *PREFACE*


I am told that it has been thought advisable to publish short accounts
in pamphlet form of prominent and important operations which have been
carried on during the course of the war which is still raging.

Such war stories may undoubtedly be beneficial, and in the belief that
such "propaganda" is productive of more good than harm I have consented
to indite this very brief preface to _The Retreat from Mons_.

Any hesitation I may have felt arises from my profound conviction that
no history of a war or any part of a war can be worth anything until
some period after peace has been made and the full facts are known and
understood.

This pamphlet however, is not so much a "history" as an interesting
summary or a chronology of leading events, and the writer carefully
avoids according praise or blame in connection with any event or group
of events which can ever become the subject of controversy.

In a Preface to so brief and so unpretentious a military work as this,
it is impossible to put before the reader more than a glimpse of the
situation in regard to which plans had to be conceived and put into
execution as suddenly and speedily as the demand for them was
unexpected.

That it is the "unexpected" which generally happens in war, and that it
is the "unexpected" for which we must be ever ready, has of late years
been deeply instilled in the mind of the British officer. A cardinal
axiom in his military creed is that he must never be taken by surprise.

When, therefore, the Germans, on the same principle as they subsequently
used poison-gas, sank hospital ships, and disregarded every known rule
of civilized war, suddenly and quite unexpectedly overran a neutral
country in such a drastic manner as to nullify all preconceived plans
and possibilities, and the British Army found itself on the outer flank
of the threatened line exposed to the full weight of the German menace,
it was this previous careful training which formed the sure foundation
upon which to plan and conduct the inevitable retreat and carry it to a
successful conclusion.

When men are told to retire without fighting, when they see no reason
for it, when they remain full of ardour and longing to get at the enemy,
and are not allowed to, demoralization is very apt to be the result.
Why was such a feature of the Retreat conspicuous by its complete
non-existence? Because of another result of British military training,
namely, the absolute confidence of the men in their leaders and officers
and the wonderful mutual understanding which existed between them.

The magnificent spirit which animated the British Expeditionary Force
was seen at every phase of these operations; in the skilful handling and
moral superiority of the cavalry which covered the Retreat; in the able
conduct by the respective leaders of the several battles and encounters
which local circumstances rendered necessary; and lastly, in the
extraordinary marching powers and capability of endurance which animated
all ranks.

Controversies loud and bitter will certainly rage in regard to all the
dispositions and plans under which this war has been conducted; as to
the operations of the first three weeks, perhaps, more than as to those
of any other period. But I venture to hope and believe that no sane
person can dispute in the smallest particular the claims which I make in
this very short Preface on behalf of the forces which it is the great
pride and glory of my life to have commanded.


FRENCH _F.M._

WHITEHALL
       _April_ 23, 1917.



                     *The Operations of the British
                        Army in the Present War*



                             *INTRODUCTORY*


The first quality of British military operations in the present war--and
so it will strike the future historian--is their astonishing variety and
range.  Beginning on the ancient battlefields of France and Flanders,
they have spread, in a series of expanding and apparently inevitable
waves, over a good part of three continents, so that, wherever the enemy
was to be found,--whether in Europe, or Asia, or Africa, or in the
islands of the high seas,--there also, sooner or later, were the British
arms.  There was a time when one or two campaigns were thought amply
sufficient for the military energies of the most warlike nation. We have
never pretended to be warlike, meeting our emergencies always, with a
certain reluctance, as they arose; but in the present war we have seldom
had fewer than six considerable campaigns on our hands at one time, and
these in areas separated often by thousands of miles from one another
and from us.  It is one of the obligations of a great empire at war that
it should be so; it is one of the privileges of a great maritime empire
that it should be possible.  It is undoubtedly the grand characteristic
of the operations of the British Army in this war, and gives the only
true perspective of our military effort in the field.  To our share in
the Allied front must always be added the fighting frontiers of the
Empire.

The British Army, now grown out of all recognition, was small, and known
to be small, when the war began.  It was a voluntary army, numbering
approximately 700,000 men, of whom about 450,000 (including reservists)
were trained soldiers, liable for service abroad, and the remainder, a
half-trained Territorial Force, enrolled for service at home.  Besides
being small, it was, from the nature of its duties, widely scattered.
Over 100,000 of our best troops were serving at the time in India or on
foreign stations.  For all purposes, therefore, when war broke out, we
had in this country a mobilizable army of something under 600,000
trained and half-trained men, 250,000 of whom were liable only for
service at home.  The striking or Expeditionary Force of this army was a
fully equipped and highly professional body of six infantry divisions
and one division of cavalry, and with this force we entered the war.
Intended primarily, as its name implied, for protective or punitive
operations within the Empire, it was on a scale proportionate to its
purpose and to the size of our army.  Our army, judged by a European
standard, being small, our Expeditionary Force, judged by that standard,
was diminutive; and the chief problem which confronted the Government,
when it was decided to send this force to France, was how to support and
supplement it.  The story of how this problem was faced and overcome, of
how "Home Service" men became "Foreign Service" in a day, and our little
army of 700,000, by a gigantic effort of British determination and
Imperial good-will, was expanded into an army of millions--all this is a
separate narrative, to be related elsewhere; but we cannot afford to
overlook it as we follow the fortunes of the Expeditionary Force in
France and Flanders.  It is the military background of all their
triumphs and vicissitudes, and had an effect upon the tone of the war
almost from the first.  Even to our Expeditionary Force itself, with all
its cheerful self-confidence and efficiency, it meant something to know
that the country was in earnest; that as early as August 23, while they
were still fighting among the coal-pits of Mons, the first 100,000
volunteers had been enrolled, and were already deep in the mysteries of
forming fours.



                        *THE RETREAT FROM MONS*


When a country goes to war the first test of its military efficiency is
the mobilization of its army.  This is a stage in the history of wars
which the public is apt to overlook, because the arrangements are
necessarily secret and complex, and are carried out in that first hush
which precedes _communiqués_ and great conflicts in the field.  It is
nevertheless true that every war starts in the Department of the
Quartermaster General, and that by the nature of this start the issue of
a war may be decided.  We started well.  From August 5, when
mobilization began,--in spite of bank holidays and Territorials _en
route_ for summer camps,--the whole scheme of concentration and despatch
was carried out almost exactly to schedule, and without a hitch.  It is
calculated that, during the busiest period, the railway companies, now
under Government control and brilliantly directed by an executive
committee of general managers, were able to run as many as eighteen
hundred special trains in five days, an average of three hundred and
sixty trains a day, and all up to time. The concentration of the Home
Forces and of the Expeditionary Force proceeded concurrently.  On August
9 the first elements of the Force embarked, and nine days later the
greater part of it had been landed in France, and was moving by way of
Amiens to its unknown fortunes.  The smoothness, rapidity, above all the
secrecy with which the transportation was carried out, made a great
impression at the time, and will always be admired.  The question of how
it was done excited, characteristically enough, less interest. We are a
people accustomed to happy improvisations, and it was generally assumed
that this national talent had once more come to our rescue; the truth
being that in these matters improvisation can seldom be happy, and that
for instant and complete success the only method is long and careful
preparation in time of peace.  For several years the military, naval,
and civilian authorities concerned had been engaged upon such a scheme
of preparation, and had, indeed, concluded their labours not many months
before war broke out.  When the day came all railway and naval transport
officers were at their posts, and the Railway Executive Committee, in
its offices in Parliament Street, was calmly carrying out a time-table
with every detail of which it had long been familiar.  Such perfect
preparedness is rare in our history, and worthy of note.  Amidst the
vast unreadiness of the nation for war the despatch of the Expeditionary
Force, and the magnificent readiness of the fleet which made it
possible, stand out in grand relief, not to be lost sight of or
forgotten.

The Expeditionary Force was commanded by Field Marshal Sir John French,
and consisted, up to August 23, of four complete divisions of infantry
(the First, Second, Third, and Fifth) and five brigades of cavalry; that
is to say, about 80,000 men.  On August 24 it was joined by the
Nineteenth Infantry Brigade, which added 4000 more; and on August 25 by
the Fourth Division, which added another 17,000.  Our total strength,
therefore, during the fighting at Mons and in the Retreat, varied from
80,000 to a little over 100,000 men. It was a small force, but of a
quality rarely seen.  No finer fighting unit ever entered the field.  In
physique and equipment, in professional training and experience of war,
in that quality of skilful and cheerful tenacity against odds which
distinguishes the veteran, it was probably unrivalled by any body of
troops of its time.  The French, who gave our men a warm welcome, dwell
always on their youth and good spirits, their wonderful cleanness and
healthiness, the excellence of their equipment, and their universal
courtesy.

"À Argenteuil-Triage," writes a French infantryman who fought in the
Retreat and on the Marne, "nous croisons un train de fantassins anglais;
figures rasées, ouvertes, enfantines, riant de toutes leurs dents.  Ils
sont reluisants de propreté.  Nous nous acclamons réciproquement."
(Sept. 2/14: Garnet de Route; Roujons.)

At Bucy-le-long the French relieve the English.  It is a matter of
outposts.  "De deux cents mètres en deux cents mètres, un groupe de six
Anglais est couché à plat ventre dans les betteraves, en bordure d’un
chemin.  Ils se dressent et nous allons prendre leurs places en admirant
ces beaux soldats, bien équipés, silencieux, et qui ont des
couvertures."  (_Ibid._, Oct. 6/14.)

Such opinions were worth much. For though it is a great thing to be
welcomed, as our men were welcomed, by a whole people, to have the
hearty professional approval of its soldiers is a greater thing still.

The Expeditionary Force, thus landed in France, was organized in two
army corps--the First, consisting of the First and Second Divisions,
under Lieutenant-General Sir Douglas Haig; the second, consisting of the
Third and Fifth Divisions, under Lieutenant-General Sir James Grierson,
who was succeeded, on his sudden and much lamented death, by General Sir
Horace Smith-Dorrien.  General Allenby commanded the cavalry division,
consisting of the First, Second, Third, and Fourth Cavalry Brigades, and
the Fifth Cavalry Brigade was commanded independently by
Brigadier-General Sir Philip Chetwode.  By the evening of Friday, August
21, the concentration was practically complete, and during Saturday the
22d the Force moved up to its position on the left or western extremity
of the French line.  (Plan 1.)

The general situation in this region, as it was known at the moment to
the leaders of the Allies, may be briefly stated.  It was at last plain,
after much uncertainty, that the first great shock and collision of
forces was destined to take place in this northern area.  It was plain,
also, that Belgium, for some time to come, was out of the scheme.  Liège
had fallen, and with it how many hopes and predictions of the engineer!
Brussels was occupied; and the Belgian field army was retiring to
shelter under the ramparts of Antwerp.  Except for Namur, there was
nothing in Belgium north of the Allied line to stop the German advance.
Von Kluck and Von Buelow, with the First and Second German Armies, were
marching without opposition towards the French frontier--Von Kluck
towards the south-west and Von Buelow towards the crossings of the
Sambre.  By the evening of the 20th, Von Buelow’s guns were bombarding
Namur.  So much was known to the leaders of the Allies: of the strength
of the advancing armies they knew little.

To oppose these two armies--for of the seven German armies already in
position we shall consider only these two--the Allies were disposed as
follows: Directly in the route of Von Buelow’s army, should he pass
Namur, lay the Fifth French Army, under General Lanrezac, with its left
resting on the river Sambre at Charleroi, and its right in the fork of
the Meuse and the Sambre.  This army, it should be noted, made a
junction in the river fork with another French Army, the Fourth, under
General Ruffey, which lay off to the south along the Middle Meuse,
watching the Ardennes.  On the left of the Fifth French Army, along a
line presently to be defined, lay the British Expeditionary Force,
facing, as it seemed, with equal directness, the line of advance of the
army of Von Kluck. Subsidiary to the Fifth French Army and the British
Force were two formations, available for support: a cavalry corps of
three divisions under General Sordet, stationed to the south of
Maubeuge, and, out to the west, with its base at Arras, a corps of two
reserve divisions under General D’Amade. Both these formations will be
heard of during the subsequent operations, and it is important to remark
that General D’Amade’s two divisions were at this time, and throughout
the first days of the fighting, the only considerable body of Allied
troops in the eighty miles of territory between the British and the sea.

The line occupied by the British ran due east from the neighbourhood of
Condé along the straight of the Condé-Mons Canal, round the loop which
the canal makes north of Mons, and then, with a break, patrolled by
cavalry, turned back at almost a right angle towards the southeast of
the direction of the Mons-Beaumont road.  The whole of the canal line,
including the loop round Mons,--a front of nearly twenty miles,--was
held by the Second Army Corps, and the First Army Corps lay off to its
right, holding the southeastern line to a point about nine miles from
Mons.  There being no infantry reserves available in this small force,
General Allenby’s cavalry division was employed to act on the flank or
in support of any threatened part of the line. The forward
reconnaissance was entrusted to the Fifth Cavalry Brigade, assisted by
some squadrons from General Allenby’s division, and some of its
detachments penetrated as far north as Soignies, nine miles on the way
to Brussels. In the occasional encounters which took place with the
enemy’s Uhlans, to the north and east, our cavalry had always the best
of it; then, as always in this war, when the opportunity has occurred,
mounted or dismounted, they have proved themselves the better arm.
Their reconnaissance was more than supplemented by four squadrons of the
Royal Flying Corps under the direction of Major-General Sir David
Henderson.

Throughout the Saturday our men entrenched themselves, the
North-Countrymen among them finding in the chimney-stacks and slag-heaps
of this mining district much to remind them of home.  The line they held
was clearly not an easy line to defend.  No salient ever is, and a
glance at the map will show that this was no common salient.  To the
sharp apex of Mons was added, as an aggravation, the loop of the canal.
It was nevertheless the best line available, and, once adopted, had been
occupied with that double view both to defence and to attack which a
good commander has always before him. The first object, when an enemy of
unknown strength attacks, is to hold him and gain time; the line of the
canal supplies just the obstacle required; it was therefore held, in
spite of the salient, and arrangements made for a withdrawal of the
Second Corps should the salient become untenable.  If, on the other
hand, the enemy should be beaten back, the Second Corps, pivoting
northeast on Mons, could cross the canal and move forward in line with
the First Corps, already in position for such an advance.  If,
finally,--for a commander, like a good parent, must provide for
everything,--a general retirement should become necessary, the British
Commander-in-Chief had decided to rest his right flank on Maubeuge,
twelve miles south of Mons: and here was his First Corps ready for it,
clustered about the roads that lead towards Maubeuge, and able, from
this advantage, to cover the retirement of the Second Corps, which had
fewer facilities in this way, and would have farther to travel.
Tactically the arrangements were as good as could be made.

When we come to the strength and direction of the enemy’s attack, we are
on more doubtful ground.  His strength on the British front was
estimated at the time, according to all the available information, both
French and English, to be at most two army corps, with perhaps one
cavalry division, which would have made an equal battle; and it was not
unnaturally supposed that he would attack in the general direction of
his advance; that is, from the northeast.  From an attack in this
strength and from this direction we had nothing to fear.  As it turned
out, however, both the estimate of strength and the supposition of
direction were inaccurate.  The enemy, making full use of the wooded
country in these parts, which gave excellent concealment, and strong
enough to throw his forces wide, was, as we shall see, engaged on
something much more ambitious; a movement which, had it succeeded (as
against any other troops it might well have succeeded), would have
brought disaster on the whole Allied army.

At what hour precisely the Germans began their attack on the Mons
position is uncertain.  Some say at dawn, others just after noon. What
is certain is that between 12 and 1 P.M. on Sunday the 23d, some of the
men of the Royal West Kents, in support on the outskirts of Mons, were
having a sing-song and watching the people home from church, and,
feeling quite at their ease, had sent their shirts and socks out to
wash, for all the world as if on manoeuvres.  It is an interesting
little scene, and one which would have seemed incomprehensible to the
Germans, who by this time pictured our little army cowering in its
positions.  The abruptness with which the scene changed is no less
characteristic.  When it was reported that the enemy had turned up "at
last" and that "A" company was hard-pressed at the canal, there was no
more thought of sing-songs nor even of the dinner "which the orderlies
had just gone to fetch"; socks and shirts appeared as if by miracle; and
when the "fall-in" went, every man was there, equipped and ready for
anything.  It is an ordinary incident, and for that reason important; in
any institution, whether it be an army or a household, it is the
ordinary incidents that count.  It is typical of the spirit of an army
which has puzzled many even of its admirers by its strange combination
of qualities: boyish ease and hilarity coupled with manly fortitude and
discipline, and a most perfect and unassailable confidence in its
weapons, its leaders, and itself.

The attack had most certainly begun; and it began, as was expected, at
the weakest and most critical point of the line, the canal loop, which
was held by the Third Division.  This division had the heaviest share of
the fighting throughout the day, maintaining, longer than seemed humanly
possible, a hopeless position against hopeless odds, the Second Royal
Irish and Fourth Middlesex of the Eighth Brigade, and the Fourth Royal
Fusiliers of the Ninth Brigade, particularly distinguishing themselves.
The bridges over the canal, which our men held, after some preliminary
shelling, were attacked by infantry debouching from the low woods which
at this point came down to within three hundred or four hundred yards of
the canal.  These woods were of great assistance to the enemy, both here
and at other points of the canal, in providing cover for their infantry
and machine-guns. The odds were very heavy.  One company of the Royal
Fusiliers, holding the Nimy Bridge, was attacked at one time by as many
as four battalions.  The enemy at first came on in masses, and suffered
severely in consequence.  It was their first experience of the British
"fifteen rounds a minute," and it told.  They went down in bundles--our
men delighting in a form of musketry never contemplated in the
Regulations.  To men accustomed to hitting bobbing heads at eight
hundred yards there was something monstrous and incredible in the German
advance.  They could scarcely believe their eyes; such targets had never
appeared to them even in their dreams.  Nor were our machine-guns idle.
In this, as in many other actions that day and in the days that
followed, our machine-guns were handled with a skill and devotion which
no one appreciated more than the enemy. Two of the first Victoria
Crosses of the war were won by machine-gunners in this action of the
bridges: Lieutenant Dease, of the Royal Fusiliers, who, though five
times wounded,--and, as it turned out, mortally wounded,--continued to
work his gun on the Nimy Bridge until the order came for retirement, and
he was carried off; and Private Godley, of the Royal Scots Fusiliers,
who, lower down the loop, at the Ghlin Bridge, in the face of repeated
assaults, kept his gun in action throughout.

The attack had now spread along the whole line of the canal; but except
at the loop the enemy could make no impression.  There, however, numbers
told at last, and about the middle of the afternoon the Third Division
was ordered to retire from the salient, and the Fifth Division on its
left directed to conform.  Bridges were blown up--the Royal Engineers
vying with the other services in the race for glory: and by the night of
the 23d, after various vicissitudes, the Second Army Corps had fallen
back as far as the line Montreuil-Wasmes-Paturages-Frameries. That the
retirement, though successful, was expensive, is not to be wondered at,
when it is remembered that throughout this action, as we now know, the
Second Army Corps was outnumbered by three to one.  All ranks, however,
were in excellent spirits.  Allowing for handicaps, they felt that they
had proved themselves the better men.

It was a feeling which was to be severely tried in the next few days. At
5 P.M. on Sunday the 23d, as the Second Corps was withdrawing from the
canal, the British Commander-in-Chief received a most unexpected
telegraph from General Joffre, the Generalissimo of the Allied armies,
to the effect that at least three German army corps were moving against
the British front, and that a fourth corps was endeavouring to outflank
him from the west.  He was also informed that the Germans had on the
previous day captured the crossings of the Sambre between Charleroi and
Namur, and that the French on his right were retiring.  In other words,
Namur, the defensive pivot of the Anglo-French line, on the resistance
of which--if only for a few days--the Allied strategy had depended, had
fallen almost at a blow.  By Saturday the Germans had left Namur behind,
and in numbers far exceeding French predictions had seized the crossings
of the Sambre and Middle Meuse and were hammering at the junction of the
Fifth and Fourth French Armies in the river-fork. The junction was
pierced, and the French, unexpectedly and overwhelmingly assaulted both
in front and flank, could do nothing but retire.  By 5 P.M. on the
Sunday, when the message was received at British Headquarters, the
French had been retiring for anywhere from ten to twelve hours.  The
British Army was for the moment isolated.  Standing forward a day’s
march from the French on its right, faced and engaged by three German
corps in front, and already threatened by a fourth corps on its left, it
seemed a force marked out for destruction.

In the British Higher Command, however, there was no flurry.  There is a
thing called British phlegm.

The facts of the case, though unwelcome, were laconically accepted.
Over General Headquarters brooded a clubroom calm.  Airmen were sent up
to confirm the French report, in the usual manner, and arrangements were
quietly and methodically made for a retirement towards the prearranged
Maubeuge-Valenciennes line.  The hard-pressed Second Corps, which had
farther to march, was the first to move.  Early on the 24th it was
marching south towards Dour and Quarouble, covered by the First Corps,
which had been much less taxed, and was favourably placed to threaten
the German left.  This covering demonstration was well carried out by
the Second Division, supported by the massed artillery of the corps.
The retirement of the Second Corps, however, even with this assistance,
was not made without much difficulty.  By the night of the 23d the enemy
were already crossing the canal, and pouring down on the villages to the
south. Several rear-guard actions were fought here on the morning of the
24th, in which infantry and artillery equally distinguished themselves
at Wasmes with notable success and much loss to the enemy; but, as every
hour passed, the intention of the enemy to outflank from the northwest
became more evident.  Desperate fighting took place, the First Norfolks,
First Cheshires, and One Hundred and Nineteenth Battery, R.F.A.,
detached as a flank guard under Colonel Ballard, of the Norfolks,
holding the ridge from Audregnies to Flouges for several hours in the
teeth of overwhelming opposition.  To this little band, which cheerfully
sacrificed itself, belongs the principal credit for holding up the
turning movement of the enemy during the retirement of the 24th.  They
made a splendid stand, and six hundred of the Cheshires never got away.
Our cavalry, fortunately, were able to help also, and at once; for by an
act of great foresight, long before the news arrived of a turning
movement, Sir John French had transferred his cavalry division from the
right flank to the left. They were in position there by the Sunday
morning, and in the subsequent retirement did everything that men and
horses could do to relieve the pressure.  The dramatic action of General
de Lisle’s cavalry brigade at Audregnies, where the Fifth Division was
hard-pressed, is one of the best-known incidents of this day’s fighting,
not only because it succeeded, though at a heavy cost, in delaying the
enemy, but because it gave occasion to one of the most heroic
performances of the Retreat.

When the action was drawing to a close, and men, horses, and batteries
were being withdrawn, Captain Francis Grenfell, of the Ninth Lancers,
observed that the One Hundred and Nineteenth Battery, R.F.A., was in
difficulties.  All the horses of the battery had been killed, most of
its personnel had been killed or wounded, and it looked as if the guns
would have to be left.  Captain Grenfell, though himself wounded,
determined to help, and rode out to look for a way of retreat for the
guns. Having found it, to show how little a cavalryman need care for
death, he rode his horse back, under a tempest of fire, at a walk, and
called for volunteers from the Lancers, reminding them that "the Ninth
had never failed the gunners."  After such an example the response could
be nothing but brisk. He returned with his volunteers ("eleven officers
and some forty men"), and under a fierce and incessant fire the guns
were manhandled into safety.  For this fine action Captain Grenfell and
the battery commander--Major Alexander--were each awarded the Victoria
Cross.  It is one of many illustrations furnished by the Retreat of the
_camaraderie_ of the various arms.

After a short halt and partial entrenchment on the line Dour-Quarouble,
to enable the First Corps to break off its demonstrations, the retreat
of the Second Corps was resumed; and by the evening of the 24th the
whole army had reached the prearranged line Jenlain-Bavai-Maubeuge--the
Second Corps to the west of Bavai, and the First Corps to the right.
The right was protected by the fortress of Maubeuge, the left by the
cavalry, operating outwards, and by the Nineteenth Infantry Brigade,
which had been brought up in the nick of time from the lines of
communication, and had acted throughout the day in support of the
exposed flank of the Second Corps.

It had been intended by the British Commander-in-Chief to make a stand
on the Maubeuge line, and if the first calculations of the enemy’s
strength and intentions had proved correct, it is possible that a great
battle might have been fought here, and continued by the French armies
along the whole fortress line of northern France.  Even as it was, the
temptation to linger at Maubeuge must have been strong; it offered such
an inviting buttress to our right flank, and filled so comfortably that
dangerous gap between our line and the French.  The temptation, to which
a weaker commander might have succumbed, was resisted.  "The French were
still retiring," says the despatch, "and I had no support except such as
was afforded by the fortress of Maubeuge; and the determined attempts of
the enemy to get round my left flank assured me that it was his
intention to hem me against that place and surround me.  I felt that not
a moment must be lost in retiring to another position."

Early on the 25th, accordingly, the whole British Army set out on the
next stage of its retreat. Its function in the general Allied strategy
was now becoming clear. It was not merely fighting its own battles.
Situated as it was on the left flank of the retiring French Armies, it
had become in effect the left flank-guard of the Allied line, committed
to its retirement, and to the protection of that retirement, to the end.
The turning movement from the west, at first local and partial, had
suddenly acquired a strategic significance.  It threatened not merely
the British Army, but the whole Allied strategy of the Retreat.  Could
the British resist it?  Could they, at the least, delay it?  These were
the questions which the French leaders asked themselves, with some
anxiety, as they retired with their armies from day to day, and waited
for the counter-turn which was to come. For, as we now know, behind the
retiring and still intact French Armies, to the south and east of Paris,
movements were shaping, forces were forming, which were to change the
face of things in this western corner.  Could the British hold out till
these movements were ripe?  It was a momentous question.  No more
momentous question has been asked for a hundred years.  The answer, so
far, had been affirmative.

On this day, the 25th, from very early in the morning, the two corps
marched south on each side of the great Forest of Mormal, the First
Corps to the right and the Second to the left, as one faces the enemy.
The position chosen for the next stand was in the neighbourhood of Le
Cateau, on the line Cambrai-Le Cateau-Landrecies, and while the army was
marching towards it, civilian labour was employed to prepare and
entrench the ground. On this morning, also, the infantry of the Fourth
Division, which had arrived at Le Cateau on the 23d and 24th, became
available for service, bringing a welcome addition to our strength of
eleven battalions.  They were immediately sent forward, and, facing
north-west between Solesmes and the Cambrai-Le Cateau road, materially
assisted the retirement of the Second Corps.  For both corps it was a
day of terrible marching, along roads crowded with transport
and--particularly on the eastern route--packed with refugees.  For
marching in a retreat has this fundamental disadvantage, that the men
move behind their transport, and (in friendly country) with all the
civilians of the countryside about their feet.  In such conditions a
steady pace is the last thing to be hoped for.  Checking--the curse of
tired men--from being the exception becomes the rule; while the hours
crawl on, and the boots tell, and the packs tell, and the eye grows
glazed with staring at the men in front, and even the rifle, that "best
friend," seems duller and heavier than a friend should be--the heaviest
nine pounds in the world.  It is calculated that on the 25th the various
units of the Second Corps marched, under these most trying conditions,
anything from twenty to thirty-five miles.  By this time, also, the
continual retirement was having its effect on the men’s spirits.  To the
rank and file, who necessarily know nothing of high strategy, and see
only what is before their eyes, the Retreat carried little of that high
significance which we attach to it, but much of weariness and distaste.
Some glimmering of an idea that we were "leading the Germans into a
trap" cheered men up here and there; some rumours of Russian victories
raised the old jokes about "Berlin"; but for the most part they marched
and fought uncomprehending, welcoming their turn of rear guard as a
relief, because it gave some chance of fighting and turned their faces
to the north.

The Second Corps reached their appointed line on the Cambrai-Le Cateau
road as night was falling, and, under a cold, steady rain, which had
succeeded the blazing heat of the day, proceeded to improve the trenches
which they found there.  They had had an exhausting march, but little
fighting or interruption.  The First Corps was delayed and did not reach
the allotted position; but was scattered by the evening over an area at
some points as many as thirty miles from the Second Corps, and nowhere
nearer than Landrecies, eight miles from Le Cateau.  The difficulty of
movement had been increased by the convergence of French troops retiring
from the Sambre, who cut across our line of march.  The enemy pressure
was continued by fresh troops well into the night.  The engagement of
the Second Division south and east of Maroilles, and the fight of the
Fourth (Guards’) Brigade at Landrecies, are the two main incidents in
this difficult night’s work. About the fighting near Maroilles we have
little information except that it seemed serious enough to justify the
British Commander-in-Chief in asking for help from the French.  In
response to his urgent request two French reserve divisions attached to
the Fifth French Army on our right eventually came up, and by diverting
the attention of the enemy enabled Sir Douglas Haig to effect a skilful
extrication from an awkward position made still more awkward by the
darkness of night.  One incident of the fighting near Maroilles has,
indeed, slipped into the light of day with regard to a unit of the
Second Division: a little rearguard action of the First Berks, near a
bridge over the Petit Helpe which it was important to hold. They were on
their way back to it, stumbling in the dark along a greasy, narrow
causeway, with a deep ditch on each side, which led to the bridge.  "The
Germans, as it turned out, had already forced the bridge and were in the
act of advancing along the causeway; and in the pitch darkness of the
night the two forces suddenly bumped one into the other.  Neither side
had fixed bayonets, for fear of accidents in the dark, and in the
scrimmage which followed it was chiefly a case of rifle-butts and fists.
At this game the Germans proved no match for our men, and were gradually
forced back to the bridgehead, where they were held for the remainder of
the night." Early in the morning the Germans withdrew, and the First
Berks fell back on the rest of the Second Division, along the road to
Guise.  It was a very complete and satisfactory little affair.

The fight at Landrecies by the Fourth (Guards’) Brigade is better known.
They had arrived there, very weary, and had got into billets; so weary,
indeed, that the Commander-in-Chief could not order them farther west,
to fill up the gap between Le Gateau and Landrecies.  "The men were
exhausted, and could not get farther in without rest."  The enemy,
however, would not allow them this rest.  At 8.30 in the evening came
news that Germans in motor-lorries were coming through the Forest of
Mormal in great numbers, and bearing down upon the town. The town,
fortunately, had already been put into a hasty state of defence: houses
loopholed, machine-guns installed, barricades erected, and a company
detailed to each of the many exits.  It is said that the Germans
advanced singing French songs, and that the leading ranks wore French
uniforms, for a moment deceiving the defenders. This would explain the
suddenness of the collision, for the Germans and British were fighting
hand to hand almost at once.  It was a fierce fight while it lasted,
and, with short respites, went on till the early hours of the morning;
but eventually the enemy were beaten off with great loss.  It is
estimated that they lost in this action from 700 to 1000 men.  It must
be allowed, nevertheless, in the light of later knowledge that the
tactics of the Germans at Maroilles and Landrecies were good.  A few
battalions--for it is unlikely that they amounted to more--attacking at
various points under cover of darkness with a great show of vigour,
though beaten off, succeeded in conveying the impression to the British
commanders in this part of the field that they were engaged with a
considerable force.  This impression once conveyed, the main object of
the manoeuvre had been attained, for the First Corps was kept on the
alert all night, and effectually prevented either from obtaining rest or
from reaching its appointed destination in the British line.  If our
assumption of the enemy numbers is correct, it was a clever piece of
work, well conceived and well executed.

The crisis of the Retreat was now approaching.  There is a limit to what
men can do, and it seemed for a moment as if this limit might be reached
too soon.  The Commander-in-Chief, seriously considering the
accumulating strength of the enemy, the continued retirement of the
French, his exposed left flank, the tendency of the enemy’s western
corps to envelop him, and above all, the exhausted and dispersed
condition of his troops, decided to abandon the Le Gateau position, and
to press on the Retreat till he could put some substantial obstacle,
such as the Somme or the Oise, between his men and the enemy, behind
which they might reorganize and rest. He therefore ordered his corps
commanders to break off whatever action they might have in hand, and
continue their retreat as soon as possible towards the new St. Quentin
line.

The First Corps was by this time terribly exhausted, but, on receiving
the order, set out from its scattered halting-places in the early hours
of the 26th.

By dawn on that day the whole corps, including the Fourth Brigade at
Landrecies, was moving south towards St. Quentin.

The order to retire at daybreak, on which the First Corps was now
acting, had been duly received by the Second Corps.  The commander had
been informed that the retirement of the First Corps was to continue
simultaneously and that three divisions of French cavalry under General
Sordet were moving towards his left flank, in pursuance of an agreement
arrived at in a personal interview between the French cavalry commander
and the British Commander-in-Chief.

Sir H. Smith-Dorrien was also informed that two French Territorial
Divisions under General D’Amade were moving up to support Sordet.

There was no reason to suppose that the Second Corps, which had not been
so much harassed by the enemy on its march south as the First Corps, was
not equally well able to obey the order to retreat.

The corps commander, however, judged that his men were too tired and the
enemy too strong to effect such a retirement as he was directed to carry
out.

The General’s reply was duly received at Headquarters.  The
Commander-in-Chief was deeply engaged in concerting plans with the
French Commander-in-Chief, his Chief of the Staff, and General Lanzerac
(the commander of the Fifth French Army).  Orders were immediately sent
to the Second Corps, informing the General that any delay in retiring
would seriously compromise the plan of the Allied operations, and, in
view of the general situation, might entail fatal results.  He was
directed to resume his retirement forthwith, and, to assist him, the
cavalry and Fourth Division were placed under his orders.

At the conclusion of the conference, no positive information having been
received of the commencement of the retirement, the Commander-in-Chief
himself set out for Le Cateau; but the congestion of the roads with
Belgian refugees, etc., made progress so slow that he had not
accomplished half the distance before he found that his orders had been
carried out and the retirement was in progress.

During the early part of the day, however, Sir H. Smith-Dorrien had, for
the reason given above, waited at the Le Gateau position to engage the
pursuing Germans. Of the three divisions of infantry thus engaged, the
Fifth lay on the right, the Third in the centre, and the Fourth faced
outwards on the left: the whole occupying the ridge south of the
Cambrai-Le Cateau road, on the line Haucourt-Caudry-Beaumont-Le Cateau.
The Nineteenth Infantry Brigade was in reserve and the cavalry operated
on the flanks.  With both flanks exposed, with three divisions of
infantry to the enemy’s seven, and faced by the massed artillery of four
army corps,--an odds of four or five to one,--the Second Corps and
Fourth Division prepared to make a stand.  A few hours’ sleep, and at
dawn, with a roar of guns, the battle opened.

That the day was critical, that it was all or nothing, was realized by
all ranks.  Everything was thrown into the scale; nothing was held back.
Regiments and batteries, with complete self-abandonment, faced hopeless
duels at impossible ranges; brigades of cavalry on the flanks boldly
threatened divisions; and in the half-shelter of their trenches the
infantry, withering but never budging, grimly dwindled before the German
guns.  It was our first experience on a large scale of modern artillery
in mass.  For the first six hours the guns never stopped.  To our
infantry it was a time of stubborn and almost stupefied endurance,
broken by lucid intervals of that deadly musketry which had played such
havoc with the Germans at Mons.  To our artillery it was a duel, and
perhaps of all the displays of constancy and devotion in a battle where
every man in every arm of the service did his best, the display of the
gunners was the finest.  For they accepted the duel quite cheerfully,
and made such sport with the enemy’s infantry that even their masses
shivered and recoiled.  By midday, however, many of our batteries were
out of action, and the enemy infantry had advanced almost to the main
Cambrai-Le Gateau road, behind which our men, in their pathetic civilian
trenches, were quietly waiting.

The enemy attacked on the right of the Fifth Division, and were in the
act of turning it when the order came to retire.  This necessary order,
for a gradual retirement from the right, was issued a little before 3
P.M., and was with great difficulty conveyed to all parts of the line.
In the Fifth Division several companies, in covering the retirement,
were practically wiped out.  The story of "B" Company of the Second
K.O.Y.L.I. charging the enemy with its nineteen remaining men, headed by
its commander, is typical of the spirit which inspired the British
regiments.

The Third Division had suffered comparatively little when the order
reached them, and were justly priding themselves on having successfully
repulsed a determined attack on Caudry, the apex of the position.

On the left of the line was posted the Fourth Division which had come in
by train the previous day, and was personally placed by the
Commander-in-Chief in the position he thought best to cover the
retirement of the Second Corps.

Owing to the unexpected turn of events at Mons, and the unfortunate
delay in the despatch of this division from England, the troops had to
be pushed into action without a moment’s delay, and before the
detrainment of their artillery and other services was practically
complete.

On the morning of the 26th they found themselves on the extreme western
flank of the Allied forces, and splendidly did General Snow and his
gallant men carry out the difficult and dangerous task assigned them.

The conduct of their retirement was no less efficient than their gallant
fighting.  Parts of this division, however, shared the fate of other
units in the line engaged in covering the retirement, and, holding on
into the night, either retired in the darkness (some to the British
lines, others through the German lines to the sea) or, less fortunate,
were cut off, captured, or destroyed. Many adventures befell them, and
some tragedies, but none to equal the tragedy of the First Gordons, who
marched in the darkness into a German division in bivouac some miles
south of the battle-ground, and were shot or taken prisoners almost to a
man.

The infantry retirement, though thus partial and irregular, was
progressively carried out according to orders, and by four o’clock in
the afternoon most of the line had been cleared.  The retirement was
covered by the artillery, still in action with the same unruffled
courage and devotion which they had shown throughout the day, and there
is no doubt that the reluctance of the enemy to engage in an energetic
pursuit was partly due to this splendid opposition of our gunners, as
well as to the undoubtedly heavy losses which they had suffered from our
rifle and shell fire earlier in the day.  At any rate, the pursuit was
not pressed, and by nightfall, after another long and weary march,--how
weary, after such a day, can scarcely be expressed,--the remains of the
Second Corps and the Fourth Division halted and bivouacked.  It was
pouring with rain, but many slept where they halted, by the roadside,
too utterly worn to think of shelter.

There is a pendant to this great action of the 26th which until recently
has been missing from its place; and it has been a matter of much
wonder, in consequence, how it was that things fell out as they did
after the battle of Le Gateau, the weary British retiring before a
numerous and victorious enemy which did not pursue.  It was pointed out,
indeed, that the enemy had suffered heavy losses; that they were tired
and shaken by the unexpected violence of the British defence; but when
every allowance had been made for the effect of weariness and loss, it
was plain that some other reason must still be found to account for a
decision so repugnant to the German temper and the German plans.
Reference has already been made to the promise made by Generals Sordet
and D’Amade to the British Commander-in-Chief.  If history has been slow
to record it, let the delay be put down to the exigencies of war.  The
enemy were not only tired and shaken.  They were also threatened, and
threatened, as they very quickly discovered, in the most sensitive
tentacles of their advance.  It was about 4.30 on the afternoon of the
26th (so the story runs), when the British retirement had been in
progress about an hour, that a furious cannonading was heard out towards
the west. This was Sordet’s cavalry, tired horses and all, arrived and
engaging the German right.  The explanation was confirmed by airmen
later in the day, who reported having seen large bodies of French
cavalry, with horse artillery and some battalions of infantry, driving
back the Germans out towards Cambrai.  General Sordet and his cavalry,
aided by General D’Amade’s battalions, which had moved out from their
station at Arras, were able to inflict upon the outflanking German right
a blow which recoiled upon the whole of the First German Army, and by
its threatened significance more than by its actual strength dominated
the policy of that army for several days to come.  The German advance
wavered and paused, and for nearly twenty-four hours the British
continued their retirement almost unmolested.

Whether on the early morning of the 26th the left of the British line
could have followed the example of the First Corps and continued its
retreat, is a question which cannot be satisfactorily settled until the
whole history of the war is laid bare.  But there can be no doubt that
both troops and commander richly deserved the high tribute paid them in
the despatch of the British Commander-in-Chief, who, after praising the
behaviour of various arms, says:--

"I cannot close this brief account of the glorious stand of the British
troops without putting on record my deep appreciation of the valuable
services rendered by Sir H. Smith-Dorrien.

"I say without hesitation that the saving of the left wing of the army
under my command on the morning of the 26th August could never have been
accomplished unless a commander of rare and unusual coolness,
intrepidity, and determination had been present to personally conduct
the operations."

It is impossible to close the story of this, the most critical time of
the great Retreat, without making mention of the inestimable services
performed by the British cavalry under General Allenby.  The moral
superiority which they had so effectually established over the hostile
horsemen during the enemy’s first advance on Mons, was maintained and
increased by every one of the many trials of strength which occurred all
along the line between smaller and greater units of the two opposing
cavalries. Invariably in all these encounters the German cavalry were
driven behind the protection of their infantry and, thus hampering the
latter’s advance, assisted our troops to make good their retreat.  The
quality of the horses and equipment of the British, their unrivalled
efficiency in dismounted fighting and in knowledge of ground, coupled
with their intrepidity and dash whenever the smallest opportunity for
mounted attack presented itself, enabled them effectually to prevent
that which is most dreaded by a retreating army--the enterprises of
hostile horsemen.

No praise can be too great for the British cavalry throughout this
drastic initiation into the splendid work which they have invariably
performed throughout the campaign.

It was in the early hours of the morning of the 27th that the commander
of the Second Corps personally reported himself at Headquarters.  He
informed the Commander-in-Chief that the Second Corps and Fourth
Division had suffered heavily and were very tired, but were now rapidly
regaining order and cohesion.  By dawn every available staff officer was
_en route_ for St. Quentin, and hour after hour, at their posts on the
line of the Retreat, shepherded the troops towards their units, and the
longed-for luxuries of food and drink and news.  All through the morning
detachments of every size and every conceivable composition kept filing
past--some with officers, most with none--some hobbling and silent,
others whistling and in step--but all with one accord most thoroughly
persuaded (such are the fallacies of a retreat) that they were the last
and only survivors of their respective commands.  Many, after a brief
halt, had marched all night, and up to one o’clock in the afternoon they
were still coming in.  A brief rest, some bread and coffee, and they
were off once more, their troubles almost forgotten in the pleasure of
rejoining their regiments and recovering their friends.

The general Retreat, which the battle of Le Cateau had so dangerously
interrupted, resumed once more its normal tenor.  Of the behaviour of
the men during this trying period it is difficult to speak with
moderation.  They had passed through an ordeal, both physical and
mental, such as few troops have ever had to face in their first week of
war; and had displayed throughout a nobility of bearing and demeanour of
which none who observed them can speak even now without emotion.  Such
courage and patience, such humorous resignation and cheerfulness in
adversity, are to be paralleled only in the finest armies of history.

The resumption of the general Retreat and the restoration of march
routine among the forces of the British left had one immediate and
important consequence.  It became possible to deal with the chief
remaining weakness caused by the inability of the First Corps, as
already pointed out, to reach its allotted position on the evening of
the 25th.  The First Corps had not been idle while the Second Corps
fought; though never heavily engaged, it had been perpetually harassed,
and was still, on August 27, suffering from the wide dispersion of its
forces on the 25th.  It was now moving south as best it could--keeping
direction, but otherwise marching and bivouacking by brigades.  On both
flanks, indeed, throughout these early days of the Retreat, such was the
imminence of the enemy, and such the variety of fortunes of the
different brigades--and even battalions and companies--of the same
division during any one day, that no strict uniformity of march or of
line could be looked for.  It speaks well for the commanders of brigade
and regimental units that so unusually high a discretionary power was
exercised so well, and with so little miscarriage either of individual
units or of the general scheme.  Some mishaps, of course, there were, of
companies and battalions overtaken, cut off, or surprised.  The capture
of the greater part of the Second Munster Fusiliers at Bergues on the
26th is one of these incidents, to be set beside the destruction of the
First Gordons, as part of the tragic waste inevitable in any continuous
retreat before superior numbers.  It is memorable, not only because,
like the First Gordons, the regiment involved carried a famous name, but
because it gave occasion to our cavalry to show once more in their
Retreat their devotion to duty.  It was entirely due to the skilful and
audacious dismounted action of two troops of the Fifteenth Hussars that
the battered remnant of the Munsters--about one hundred and fifty
men--was saved from annihilation or surrender.

The Second Corps was still, on August 27, in advance of the First; but
in both corps the Retreat continued incessantly.  Sleep was cut down to
a minimum; men fed, drank, and slept as they could, and always, when
they rose from the roadside and stretched themselves to a new dawn, the
word was "March."  Their chief enemy now was not the Germans, but the
road, the blazing sun, and the limits of their own flesh and blood.  The
worst, however, was over.  By August 27/28 movement by divisions began
to be possible; and by August 28 movement by corps. By August 28/29 the
whole Army was in touch once more on the line Noyon-La Fère, and on
Sunday the 29th, for the first time for eight days, the Army actually
rested. It is a day they are never likely to forget.  While the men
rested, their commanders took stock; and before the march was resumed,
brigades and divisions had been reorganized, stragglers restored, and
deficiencies of men and material ascertained and noted.  The
reorganization was completed by the arrival of Major-General Pulteney,
and the constitution of the Fourth Division and Nineteenth Infantry
Brigade as a Third Army Corps under his command.

The reorganization of the British Force coincided with a gratifying
change in the Allied dispositions. The British Army was not only in
touch within itself, but in touch, also, on both its flanks, with the
French; on the right, with the Fifth French Army, now, after many
vicissitudes and much hard fighting, lying behind the Oise from La Fère
to Guise; and on the left with a new French Army, still in process of
formation, of which the nucleus was those same two divisions of infantry
and three divisions of cavalry which General D’Amade and General Sordet
had handled so much to our advantage on the afternoon of the 26th, and
throughout the subsequent retirement.  This Army (to be called
henceforth, the Sixth) conscious of some mission above the ordinary, and
daily increasing in strength, lay off, on the 29th, to the north-west of
the British line, facing northeast with its right on Roye. It was a
welcome change, removing none too soon that fear of isolation which had
haunted all our movements.  The situation of the British, scars and
bruises notwithstanding, seemed suddenly almost promising, and with
their flanks secured, for the first time since the Retreat began, they
enjoyed a genuine feeling of relaxation.  It was a feeling, happily,
which the enemy at the moment was unable to disturb. His strength was
diverted to the two French Armies, and except for some cavalry actions,
in which our troops as usual were completely successful, there was
little activity on the British front.  On the morning of the 29th, while
our men were resting behind the Oise, the main body of the pursuit was
still engaged in crossing the Somme.

It was amazing to see how quickly the Army recovered during these days
from the first strain of the Retreat.  Even on the 28th the improvement
was notable. A general cheerfulness pervaded the ranks, whence derived
no one seemed to care, but splendid and infectious.  Men toughened and
hardened; the limpers grew fewer, and already battalions were to be met
marching with the old swing to the old song.  By the 29th--for always we
come back to this crucial date--the first hard apprenticeship was over;
and when the Army rose from its sleep to take the road once more, it
looked and felt an army of veterans.  Officers smiled as they watched
their men, and speculated happily on the day to come.

The chief difficulty now was to replace wastage in equipment, etc.,
which had been enormous.  For in the strain and confusion of the Retreat
everything detachable had been lost or thrown away, and whole companies
were found, perfectly fitted out eight days before, which had now
scarcely a single greatcoat, waterproof sheet, or change of clothing
left.  The deficiency of entrenching tools--to take only one article of
equipment, though that, perhaps, the most easily lost--amounted, in the
troops which had fought at Le Cateau, to over eighty per cent.  It was
much easier, unfortunately, to tabulate these deficiencies than to
supply them.  The stores existed, indeed, but they were not to be had.
They were lying for the fetching on the quays and in the dépôts of Havre
and Rouen and Boulogne, but every day’s march took us farther away from
them and increased their exposure to the German advance.  With Amiens
already in the enemy’s hands, and the Channel ports uncovered, we were,
for a moment, that portent of the textbooks, an army without a base.  It
was a case for prompt measures, and prompt measures were taken.  On
August 29, while the Army was recounting deficiencies on the Oise, the
Inspector General of the lines of communication, by order of the
Commander-in-Chief, was arranging a grand removal to the mouth of the
Loire, and on August 30, the new British base was temporarily
established at St. Nazaire and Nantes, with Le Mans as advanced base in
place of Amiens.  It was a great achievement, but an unwelcome change,
for both by sea and by land the distances were greater, and it had the
inevitable consequence of delaying the arrival of everything on which
the Army depended for replenishment.  The infantry went without their
greatcoats and entrenching tools; and though reinforcements of men
continued to arrive at stated intervals,--the first reinforcement on
September 5, and the second on September 7 and 8,--the guns which should
have come on August 29 were not actually received till September 19.  It
was not until October 11, when the British Army was setting out for
Flanders, that St. Nazaire was at last definitely closed down, and Havre
and Boulogne reopened in its place.  It was a difficult period for the
administrative departments of the Army, and had its own triumphs.

The lull in operations on the British front during the 29th, and the
restoration of contact with the French, were turned to good account by
the Allied leaders, whose opportunities for meeting and exchanging views
had hitherto been rare.  A conference was held in the early afternoon at
British Headquarters in Compiègne, which was attended not only by
General Joffre and Sir John French, but by the three British corps
commanders and General Allenby.  The conference was presided over by the
French Commander-in-Chief, who showed himself, then as always, where the
British were concerned, "most kind, cordial, and sympathetic."  "He told
me," says Sir John French, "that he had directed the Fifth French Army
on the Oise to move forward and attack the Germans on the Somme, with a
view to checking pursuit. He also told me of the formation of the Sixth
French Army on my left flank, composed of the Seventh Army Corps, four
reserve divisions, and Sordet’s corps of cavalry."  In conclusion,
having dealt with the immediate necessities of the British, he outlined
once more his strategic conception, to draw on the enemy at all points
until a favourable situation should be created for the desired
offensive, and in conformity with that conception directed the Retreat
to proceed.  The bridges over the Oise were promptly destroyed, and at
various hours between mid-afternoon of the 29th and early morning of the
30th the British forces set out on a twenty-mile march to the Aisne,
through beautiful country which they were no longer too tired to enjoy.
By the afternoon of August 30, the whole Army was in position a few
miles north of the line Compiègne-Soissons, and at the same time the
Germans occupied La Fère.  On the morning of August 31 the Retreat was
resumed, and from this date until September 4 continued practically from
day to day in conformity with the movements of the French, our men
becoming daily fitter and more war-hardened. Rumours, however, of
successful French actions on our flanks, and, amidst much that was vague
and wearisome, a growing sense of combination and ulterior purpose in
their movements, encouraged all ranks.

The country now was much more difficult, for after the Forest of
Compiègne is passed the land plunges into deep wooded ravines and
break-neck roads, very trying for guns and transport, and for all manner
of manoeuvres.  The heat was intense, and, to make matters worse, the
enemy pursuit, which had unaccountably languished, was becoming closer
and more insistent. The British, bivouacked that night between
Crépy-en-Valois and Villers-Cotteret, found themselves committed, on the
morning of September 1, to two of the hottest skirmishes of the Retreat;
one at Villers-Cotteret, where the Fourth (Guards’) Brigade was covering
the retirement of the Second Division, the other on the left at Néry, in
the area of the Third Corps.

The action at Villers-Cotteret began about nine o’clock, in very
difficult forest country, and continued until after midday, the Guards’
Brigade maintaining its ground, despite heavy losses, with a steadiness
and determination worthy of the heroes of Landrecies.  It was an action
easily described.  The attack had been expected, and was repulsed.  In
this action the Irish Guards, who had only been under distant shell fire
at Mons and had had little to do at Landrecies, received their full
baptism of fire.  It was their first real fight, and their commanding
officer headed the casualty list. The action at Néry was quite unlike
the action at Villers-Cotteret, for it came as a surprise, and at one
time looked like becoming a tragedy.  The first indication of danger had
reached the Headquarters of the Second Corps at three o’clock in the
morning, when a Frenchman reported having seen "forty German guns and a
large force of Uhlans" moving in the direction of the Third Corps, and
more particularly in the direction of Néry, where the First Cavalry
Brigade with L Battery, R.H.A., was billeted, on the left front of the
British line.  Except as regards the number of the guns the report
proved to be true.  The Germans, concealed from the British by a thick
mist,--six regiments of cavalry with two batteries of six guns
each,--were in position by daybreak on the steep ridge which overlooks
the village, when an officer’s patrol of the Eleventh Hussars bumped
suddenly into them out of the mist.  It is possible that they were as
much surprised as the British, for a mist works both ways; but they had
the advantage in numbers, armament, and position.  The alarm was
scarcely given when their guns opened on the village, and by five
o’clock, when the sun rose, the fight was in full swing.

It was a singular action, for though our cavalry, dismounted and hastily
disposed, soon recovered from their surprise, nothing could alter the
situation of L Battery.  Thanks to the mist, it had been caught in a
position as unsuitable for action as could well be conceived.
Unlimbered in an orchard only four hundred yards off, and perfectly
commanded by the German guns, it was throughout the fight a mere target
for the enemy.  A tornado of shell, machine-gun, and rifle fire was
directed upon it, the battery meanwhile boldly replying, though its case
was hopeless, and known to be hopeless, from the first.  Soon only one
of its guns was left in action, and on the serving of this one gun the
attention of every surviving officer and man was concentrated, one after
another falling killed or wounded under the fire of the now exasperated
enemy.  Captain Bradbury, loading, lost a leg; continued to direct, and
lost the other, and was carried away to die so that, as he said, his men
should not see his agony and be discouraged.  When all the officers had
fallen, Sergeant-Major Dorrell took command, and aided by the
machine-guns of the Eleventh Hussars, was still maintaining the hopeless
duel when about eight o’clock the Fourth Cavalry Brigade arrived, and
not long after the First Middlesex leading the Nineteenth Infantry
Brigade.  The balance was reversed, and the enemy, with, it is said, the
one gun of L Battery still firing at them, retired in disorder towards
Verrines, leaving eight of their twelve guns on the field.  Whatever
their mission, it remained unfulfilled.  In this action, in which a
serious disaster was so successfully averted, the heroic performance of
L Battery will always be memorable.  It had lost, during the engagement,
all its officers and eighty per cent of its gun detachments killed or
wounded, without betraying by so much as a sign either discouragement or
defeat. Distinctions were showered upon it, and Captain Bradbury,
Sergeant-Major Dorrell, and Sergeant Nelson were awarded the Victoria
Cross.

There is a sequel to this fight too exhilarating to be omitted.  As the
First and Fourth Cavalry Brigades were moving south next morning through
the rides of the Forest of Ermenonville, they came on the tracks of
horses and sent a troop to follow them up.  "They found the ride strewn
with German kit of all kinds, lame horses, etc., showing a hurried
retreat.  They had gone by five hours before, and turned out to be our
Néry friends, the cavalry division, who had bumped into one of our
columns and retreated rapidly, leaving their four remaining guns."  It
was a very satisfactory finish, and had a fine effect on the whole Army.
The story of the capture of the twelve guns ran like wildfire through
the ranks, and was recorded with pleasure by the French in their
_communiqué_.

On September 2, very early in the morning, the Army was once more on the
move.  September 1 had been a hard day, and at one time something like a
general engagement was threatened on the left and left centre of the
British line, the Fifth and Fourth Divisions fighting model rear-guard
actions which had much to do with the inactivity of the enemy on the
following day.  For on September 2 the pursuit once more relaxed, and by
the evening the British had reached the north bank of the Marne, and
were already arranging for the crossing on the following day.  Both the
march and the crossing had been contemplated with considerable misgiving
by the Commander-in-Chief, for on September 2 the Army was no longer
retiring, as it had hitherto retired, in the direction of Paris, but,
owing to the position of the bridges, had swung southeast and was now
executing what was in effect almost a flank march in the face of the
enemy.  The crossing of the Marne was an even more delicate operation,
for it involved, in circumstances of comparative immobility, the same
dangerous exposure to the enemy.  The enemy, however, did nothing to
interrupt our operations, and was, indeed, reported by our airmen to
have swung south-east also, and to be moving in the direction of
Château-Thierry, towards the front of the Fifth French Army.  By the
night of September 3 the whole of the British troops were safely across
the river and all the bridges blown up.  The left of the British Army
was now actually in sight of the outlying forts of Paris, and there was
much excitement among all ranks as to our ultimate destination.  Should
we, after all, enter Paris, and sleep in the beds of _la ville lumière_?
It was not to be.  A position was occupied between Lagny and
Signy-Signets, and on the following day, while the enemy was bridging
the Marne, the British Army made the last stage of the Retreat,
finishing up, in the cool of the evening, on the line Lagny-Courtagon.
This was their "farthest south," and on September 5, while they rested,
the great news spread through the Army that the Retreat was over, and
that next day the Advance would begin. It would be difficult to
exaggerate the effect of the news.  For though the Army had grown
outwardly fitter and more cheerful during the last seven days, the
profound distaste which was felt by all ranks for the perpetual
retirement poisoned every activity.  Was it never to end, this Retreat?
Were we retiring, then, to the Pyrenees? With such bitter questions and
mock-humorous answers, they beguiled the march.  When the news came it
was as if a great sickness had been lifted from their minds, and for the
first time, perhaps, they realized fully, as men do when they rise from
sickness, how infinitely tired and weary they had been.  They could
scarcely believe the news; but it came from quarters not to be denied.
The "favourable situation" for which General Joffre had been waiting so
patiently had come at last.



                                THE END





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