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Title: The Fighting Retreat To Paris
Author: Ingpen, Roger
Language: English
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[Illustration]
The Daily Telegraph
WAR BOOKS
THE FIGHTING RETREAT TO PARIS
The Daily Telegraph
WAR BOOKS
=HOW THE WAR BEGAN=
By W. L. COURTNEY, LL.D., and J. M. KENNEDY.
=THE FLEETS AT WAR=
By ARCHIBALD HURD.
=THE CAMPAIGN OF SEDAN=
By GEORGE HOOPER.
=THE CAMPAIGN ROUND LIEGE=
By J. M. KENNEDY.
=IN THE FIRING LINE=: Stories of Actual Fighting by the Men who
Fought. By A. ST. JOHN ADCOCK.
=GREAT BATTLES OF THE WORLD=
By STEPHEN CRANE, Author of “The Red Badge of Courage.”
=THE RED CROSS IN WAR=
By Miss M. F. BILLINGTON.
=FORTY YEARS AFTER=: The Story of the Franco-German War.
By H. C. BAILEY, with Introduction by W. L. COURTNEY, LL.D.
=A SCRAP OF PAPER=: The Inner History
of German Diplomacy. By Dr. E. J. DILLON.
=HOW THE NATIONS WAGED WAR=
By J. M. KENNEDY.
=BRITISH REGIMENTS AT THE FRONT=
The Glorious Story of their Battle Honours.
=HACKING THROUGH BELGIUM=
By EDMUND DANE.
=AIRCRAFT IN WAR=
By ERIC S. BRUCE.
=FAMOUS FIGHTS OF INDIAN NATIVE REGIMENTS=
By REGINALD HODDER.
=THE FIGHTING RETREAT TO PARIS=
By ROGER INGPEN.
=MOTOR TRANSPORT IN WAR=
By HORACE WYATT.
=THE RUSSIAN ADVANCE=
By MARR MURRAY.
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
THE FIGHTING
RETREAT TO PARIS
BY
ROGER INGPEN
HODDER AND STOUGHTON
LONDON NEW YORK TORONTO
MCMXIV
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
Mobilisation and transport of the British Expeditionary Force—The
King’s message to his troops—Sir John French’s order of the
day—Lord Kitchener’s address—Death of General Grierson—
Disposition of the French Forces in the North—Advance of the
Germans—Sir John French on the movements of the British troops
—Fighting at Mons—The Kaiser’s Army Order 9
CHAPTER II
The Battle of Mons, August 23rd—Sir John French’s despatch—The
West Kents in action—An aeroplane duel—A Royal Engineer’s
experience—Missing their regiment—Royal Field Artillery and
German shrapnel—Captain Grenfell 22
CHAPTER III
Fighting at Charleroi in the French lines—A railway official’s
adventure—A Zouave officer’s impressions—French artillery
—Heavy German casualties—The fall of Namur—A Belgian
soldier’s tribute 45
CHAPTER IV
The British troops retire into France—The adventures of a
Chaplain to a field ambulance—The Royal Field Artillery—A
wounded gunner—Losing his regiment—A Gordon Highlander’s
experiences—Operations of the French troops—British versus
German cavalry—Sir John French’s account of the events of
August 25—The Battle of Cambrai—The Rev. Owen S. Watkins’
adventures—Mr. Asquith announces a wonderful feat of arms 63
CHAPTER V
Sir John French on the operations of the British Army to August 28
—Lord Kitchener on the four days’ battle—Fighting in the
Valley of the Meuse—Charleville 106
CHAPTER VI
The French Army on the Oise—Sir John French on the operations of
the British troops on August 28—The fight at St. Quentin—
A sharp action at Compiègne—At Chantilly—English soldiers
shopping—A quiet day—British losses and resources—The
enemy at Senlis—The end of the retreat—A view of a great
military feat—Sir John French’s despatch 123
CHAPTER VII
The German advance on Paris—the Government quit the Capital for
Bordeaux—The fortifications of Paris—Preparations for a
siege—The German change of plan—Sir John French’s despatch
—German vengeance—The failure of the Crown Prince’s Army—
Declaration of the Triple Entente—Conclusion 160
[Illustration: WAR MAP DRAWN BY G. W. BACON AND CO., LTD., 127, STRAND,
W.C.
POSITIONS OF THE BRITISH FORCES IN THE RETREAT TOWARDS PARIS.]
The Retreat to Paris
CHAPTER I
MOBILISATION AND TRANSPORT OF THE BRITISH EXPEDITIONARY FORCE—THE
KING’S MESSAGE TO HIS TROOPS—SIR JOHN FRENCH’S ORDER OF THE
DAY—LORD KITCHENER’S ADDRESS—DEATH OF GENERAL GRIERSON—
DISPOSITION OF THE FRENCH FORCES IN THE NORTH—ADVANCE OF THE
GERMANS—SIR JOHN FRENCH ON THE MOVEMENTS OF THE BRITISH TROOPS
—FIGHTING AT MONS—THE KAISER’S ARMY ORDER.
By the middle of the third week of the war, the British Expeditionary
Force—three army corps and a cavalry division—had been mobilised and
sent across the Channel to France. Sir John French’s force was the
largest army that England had ever sent into the field at the outset of
a campaign. Its mobilisation, concentration, and transport across the
narrow seas had been carried out with silent efficiency. England waited
confidently and patiently for the tidings of its entry into the battle
line.
On August 9 the King had issued to his troops on their departure for
the front the following message:—
BUCKINGHAM PALACE,
_Aug. 9, 1914_.
You are leaving home to fight for the safety and honour of my
Empire.
Belgium, whose country we are pledged to defend, has been attacked,
and France is about to be invaded by the same powerful foe.
I have implicit confidence in you, my soldiers. Duty is your
watchword, and I know your duty will be nobly done.
I shall follow your every movement with deepest interest, and mark
with eager satisfaction your daily progress; indeed, your welfare
will never be absent from my thoughts.
I pray God to bless you and guard you and bring you back victorious.
GEORGE R.I.
Lord Kitchener also addressed to the forces these instructions,
to be kept in the Active Service Pay-book of every soldier in the
Expeditionary army:
You are ordered abroad as a soldier of the King to help our French
comrades against the invasion of a common enemy. You have to
perform a task which will need your courage, your energy, your
patience. Remember that the honour of the British Army depends on
your individual conduct. It will be your duty not only to set an
example of discipline and perfect steadiness under fire, but also
to maintain the most friendly relations with those whom you are
helping in this struggle.
The operations in which you are engaged will, for the most part,
take place in a friendly country, and you can do your own country
no better service than in showing yourselves in France and Belgium
in the true character of a British soldier.
Be invariably courteous, considerate, and kind. Never do anything
likely to injure or destroy property, and always look upon looting
as a disgraceful act. You are sure to meet with a welcome and
to be trusted; your conduct must justify that welcome and that
trust. Your duty cannot be done unless your health is sound. So
keep constantly on your guard against any excesses. In this new
experience you may find temptations both in wine and women. You
must entirely resist both temptations, and, while treating all
women with perfect courtesy, you should avoid any intimacy.
Do your duty bravely,
Fear God,
Honour the King.
(Signed) KITCHENER, Field Marshal.
On the day before the Expeditionary Forces were announced to have
landed safely in France, the British Army sustained a severe loss
through the sudden death, on August 17, of Lieut.-General Sir James
Moncrieff Grierson. This brilliant and accomplished soldier, who was
to have commanded the Second Corps (third and fifth divisions), was
succeeded by General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien. The First Corps (first
and second divisions) was commanded by Lieut.-General Sir Douglas
Haig, the Third Corps (fourth and sixth divisions) by Major-General
W. P. Pulteney, and Major-General Edmund Allenby was in command of the
Cavalry division.
After the lapse of nearly a hundred years, then, the British troops
found themselves once more on Belgian soil with a heavy task in front
of them. As in 1815, the object of the Allies was to liberate Europe
from the domination of a military despot. In the present conflict the
Prussians, whom we had so often supported on the field, were against
us, while we were ranged on the side of our old foes at Waterloo.
Our forces were placed on the left of the line on which the Allied
Armies advanced to the help of Belgium. Liège had fallen, but Namur was
holding out. The plan of campaign was that of the French staff, under
the command of General Joffre, and was based on the general idea of
a march across the Belgian frontier on the west of the Meuse with the
left towards Tournai. It was expected that, after a first battle with
the German army in Belgium near the border, the enemy would be driven
back to the north-east, hands would be joined with the heroic Belgian
army, Brussels abandoned by the invaders, and the siege of Namur raised.
Sir John French issued a stirring “order of the day” to the British
Expedition at the moment, when our forces were complete, and our
columns formed for advance. In the course of “a few brief words to the
officers, non-commissioned officers, and men I have the honour and the
privilege to command,” the Commander-in-Chief said:—
Our cause is just. We are called upon to fight beside our gallant
Allies in France and Belgium in no war of arrogance, but to uphold
our national honour, independence, and freedom.
I have in peace time repeatedly pointed out to you that the
strength and efficiency of a modern army in the field is to be
measured more by the amount of individual intelligence which
permeates throughout its ranks than by its actual numbers.
In peace time your officers and non-commissioned officers
have striven hard to cultivate this intelligence and power of
initiative. I call upon you individually to use your utmost
endeavour to profit by this training and instruction. Have
confidence in yourselves, and in the knowledge of your powers.
Having, then, this trust in the righteousness of our cause,
pride in the glory of our military traditions, and belief in the
efficiency of our Army, we go forward to do or die for GOD, KING,
and COUNTRY.
The disposition of the French forces was described by a statement
issued from the War Office at Paris as follows:
An army starting out from the Wavre in the north, and going in the
direction of Neufchâteau, is attacking the German troops which have
been pouring down the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg along the western
bank of the Semoy, and going in a westerly direction.
Another army which left from the region of Sedan and crossed the
Ardennes is attacking several German army corps that were on the
march between the Lesse and the Meuse.
A third army from the region of Chimay has been moved forward to
make an attack on the German right between the Sambre and the
Meuse, and is supported by the English army which set out from the
region of Mons.
The movement of the Germans who had sought to envelop our left
wing has been followed step by step, and their right is now being
attacked by our army forming our left wing, in junction with the
English army. At this point the battle has been raging violently
for more than a day.
The Germans had concentrated a huge mass of men for the attack on the
left of the allied lines, held by the British troops, with the object
of dealing them a smashing blow and of forcing their way south. They
were determined to carry out the Army Orders of August 19 in which the
German Emperor declared with characteristic assurance that:
It is my Royal and Imperial Command that you concentrate your
energies, for the immediate present, upon one single purpose, and
that is that you address all your skill and all the valour of my
soldiers to exterminate first the treacherous English and walk over
General French’s contemptible little army.
Headquarters,
Aix-la-Chapelle.
Men and guns were not wanting for this assault. The shrapnel was deadly
in its effect, but the marksmanship of the German rifles is stated to
have been uniformly poor. To make assurance doubly sure, the troops
pitted against our men were some of the best, as testified by the
statement of a wounded Belfast man:—
You must remember that for almost twenty-four hours we bore the
brunt of the attack, and the desperate fury with which the Germans
fought showed that they believed if they were only once past the
British forces the rest would be easy. Not only so, but I am sure
we had the finest troops in the German army against us.
On the way out I had heard some slighting comments passed on the
German troops, and no doubt some of them are not worth much, but
those thrown at us were very fine specimens indeed. I do not think
they could have been beaten in that respect.
“It was like a great river bursting its banks. The moment the Belgians
were forced to retire to their entrenched camp at Antwerp,” wrote Mr.
William Maxwell, on August 21, from Mons, “the Germans swept over the
country without check west toward Ghent, south toward Mons. The enemy
was committed to a great turning movement. It was striving to hold the
French along the Meuse between Namur and Dinant, while its armies west
of the river were marching south along a front of many miles. One army
threatens Mons with the object of penetrating the French frontier and
descending on Maubeuge and Valenciennes, another army was advancing
toward the line of Tournai—Coutrai which covers the great city of
Lille. At Ath there were indications that the enemy was advancing south
along the Enghien—Soignies, though he seemed to avoid the main road
at Jurbise. By deserted country paths from this point I came to Mons.”
Here as everywhere great fear was manifested by the citizens at the
approach of the Uhlans. The authorities had been warned by telephone
that they were near. “They pretend that they are English and then when
the villagers cry ‘Vive l’Angleterre,’ they find out their mistake.”
On the same day, a French witness, the correspondent of a Paris paper,
spoke of the German advance as extending “over a line of nearly 100
miles, spreading out in a formidable fan-like movement, preceded by
a swarm of scouts in all directions, which sweeps over the country
from Brussels to Arlon. The German hordes are on the march over five
different routes towards France. They will find men to meet them.”
M. Auguste Mellot, deputy of Namur, saw in that town on August 21
eleven German Army Corps “pass the Meuse coming from Visé, a powerful
force being detailed to mask their march.” The German troops engaged
in this action probably amounted to fewer than half that number.
The lines of the Allied Armies practically covered every assailable
point from Condé to Dinant. Mr. Maxwell thus described the position
of the British forces just before the great battle which began on
Saturday, August 22:—
The 1st British Cavalry Division (General Allenby) had its
headquarters at Givry, close to the frontier, and was moving north
in the direction of Binche. Cavalry covered the south-east of
Mons. It was pushed forward also toward Fontaine l’Evêque, west
of Charleroi, and, generally speaking, threatened to raid the
left flank of the Germans advancing rapidly from the direction of
Brussels.
An immense army was gathered on the frontier, and had passed
into Belgium. Mons was the point of greatest concentration of
the British. It was an army marching to attack, for there was no
attempt at making defensive works. From Mons the British army
extended west along the canal from Mons, from Maubeuge through
Bavay, on to Valenciennes, where the Highland regiments created
immense enthusiasm. From the western end of the canal at Mons,
Belgian territory has few defenders. Most of the men have been
withdrawn from that side. Prussian patrols swarm over the country,
and it is clear that behind them is a great army.
Sir John French, in his first admirable despatch, gives a history of
the activities of the British Expeditionary Force during that eventful
week in August from the 21st to the 28th when our troops were fighting
against overwhelming odds. We will divide the despatch into sections,
which will fall into place as our story proceeds. He says:—
The concentration [of the troops] was practically complete on
the evening of Friday, August the 21st, and I was able to make
dispositions to move the Force during Saturday, the 22nd, to
positions I considered most favourable from which to commence
operations which the French Commander-in-Chief, General Joffre,
requested me to undertake in pursuance of his plans in the
prosecution of the campaign.
The line taken up extended along the line of the canal from Condé
on the west, through Mons and Binche on the east. This line was
taken up as follows:—
From Condé to Mons inclusive was assigned to the Second Corps, and
to the right of the Second Corps from Mons the First Corps was
posted. The 5th Cavalry Brigade was placed at Binche.
In the absence of my Third Army Corps I desired to keep the Cavalry
Division as much as possible as a reserve to act on my outer
flank, or move in support of any threatened part of the line.
The forward reconnaissance was entrusted to Brigadier-General
Sir Philip Chetwode with the 5th Cavalry Brigade, but I directed
General Allenby to send forward a few squadrons to assist in this
work.
During the 22nd and 23rd these advanced squadrons did some
excellent work, some of them penetrating as far as Soignies, and
several encounters took place in which our troops showed to great
advantage.
The scouting operations of the British cavalry extended south-westward
of Brussels and south-east as far as Charleroi. The German cavalry
were well-nigh exhausted by their ceaseless exertions, but a rapid
advance was necessary for their success, and it was clear that they
would proceed without delay; while our cavalry scoured the country for
any signs of the German advance. The French were coming up from the
south. A wounded soldier in the British hussars stated that on Friday,
August 21, his party encountered some of the 4th Cuirassiers. The two
forces without any warning came face to face round the turn of a small
village street. They immediately attacked one another as quickly as
their horses could move, much to the alarm of the village people, who
made for their houses, screaming with terror. It was a genuine cavalry
charge without the discharge of a gun. The hussars were the lighter,
consequently they had the advantage as regards speed, for the horses
of the Cuirassiers were dead beat. The result of the encounter was 27
Germans killed and 12 taken prisoners.
CHAPTER II
THE BATTLE OF MONS, AUGUST 23RD—SIR JOHN FRENCH’S DESPATCH—THE
WEST KENTS IN ACTION—AN AEROPLANE DUEL—A ROYAL ENGINEER’S
EXPERIENCE—MISSING THEIR REGIMENT—ROYAL FIELD ARTILLERY AND
GERMAN SHRAPNEL—CAPTAIN GRENFELL.
In the following section of Sir John French’s despatch he describes the
position on Sunday, August 23:—
At 6 a.m. on August 23 I assembled the Commanders of the First and
Second Corps and Cavalry Division at a point close to the position,
and explained the general situation of the Allies, and what I
understood to be General Joffre’s plan. I discussed with them at
some length the immediate situation in front of us.
From information I received from French Headquarters I understood
that little more than one, or at most two, of the enemy’s Army
Corps, with perhaps one Cavalry Division, were in front of my
position; and I was aware of no attempted outflanking movement by
the enemy. I was confirmed in this opinion by the fact that my
patrols encountered no undue opposition in their reconnoitring
operations. The observation of my aeroplanes seemed also to bear
out this estimate.
About 3 p.m. on Sunday, the 23rd, reports began coming in to the
effect that the enemy was commencing an attack on the Mons line,
apparently in some strength, but that the right of the position
from Mons and Bray was being particularly threatened.
The Commander of the First Corps had pushed his flank back to some
high ground south of Bray, and the 5th Cavalry Brigade evacuated
Binche, moving slightly south; the enemy thereupon occupied Binche.
The right of the 3rd Division, under General Hamilton, was at
Mons, which formed a somewhat dangerous salient; and I directed
the Commander of the Second Corps to be careful not to keep the
troops on this salient too long, but, if threatened seriously, to
draw back the centre behind Mons. This was done before dark. In the
meantime, about 5 p.m., I received a most unexpected message from
General Joffre by telegraph, telling me that at least three German
Corps, viz., a reserve corps, the 4th Corps, and the 9th Corps,
were moving on my position in front, and that the Second Corps
was engaged in a turning movement from the direction of Tournai.
He also informed me that two reserve French divisions and the 5th
French Army on my right were retiring, the Germans having on the
previous day gained possession of the passages of the Sambre
between Charleroi and Namur.
An official statement issued by the Press Bureau announced that the
British troops took an active and meritorious part in the great battle
which began on Saturday, August 22. Throughout an engagement on Sunday
near Mons they held their ground, and they had successfully reached
their new position. Fighting had gone on more or less continuously,
but the enemy had not harassed our operations and the movement was
executed with great skill by the Commanders of the First and Second
Army Corps. Casualties could not be estimated exactly, but were not
heavy. Our forces were opposed by two German army corps and two cavalry
divisions. The enemy suffered very heavily. The position now occupied
was well protected. The general position showed that the Allies
continued the action in Belgium on Sunday and Monday, August 23 and 24,
but in presence of the considerable forces which the Germans had massed
the French Commander-in-Chief decided to withdraw his troops to the
original line of defence arranged, where they were firmly established.
Two French divisions suffered somewhat severely, but the main body
was not touched and remained full of enthusiasm. The German losses,
particularly in the corps d’armée of the Guards, were considerable. The
_moral_ of the Allied troops was excellent.
This statement was supplemented by a statement issued from the French
Embassy:—
To the west of the Meuse the British army, which was on our left,
was attacked by the Germans. Admirable under fire, it resisted the
enemy with its usual coolness.
The French army which was operating in this region advanced to the
attack. Two army corps, which were in the first line, spurred on by
their dash, were received by a very murderous fire. They did not
give way, but, being subjected to a counter-attack by the Prussian
Guard, they ultimately had to fall back. They did not do so until
they had inflicted enormous losses on their adversaries.
On the east of the Meuse our troops marched forward through a very
difficult country. Vigorously attacked on the outskirts of the
forest, they had to fall back after a very lively fight to the
south of the Semoy River.
On the orders of General Joffre our troops and the British troops
took up positions on the covering line, which they would not have
left had not the admirable Belgian effort enabled them to enter
Belgium. They are intact.
Our cavalry has not suffered at all. Our artillery has affirmed its
superiority. Our officers and our soldiers are in the best physical
and moral state.
In consequence of the orders given the fighting will change its
aspect for some days. The French will remain for a time on the
defensive. At the proper time chosen by headquarters it will resume
a vigorous offensive.
Our losses are considerable. It would be premature to enumerate
them. The same holds good for those of the German army, which
has nevertheless suffered so much as to be obliged to arrest its
counter-attack movement in order to take up fresh positions.
Although some vigorous fighting had been going on during Sunday
morning, August 23, the extreme peril of our troops was not realised
until late in the afternoon, when Sir John French received tidings of
extreme gravity that large reinforcements of the enemy were advancing
towards the British lines. This enormous host of Germans, strengthened
no doubt with troops released from Namur, was hurling itself forward
furiously, and the British left wing on the west was especially
threatened with a dangerous flanking movement from the enemy. On the
east towards Charleroi the position was equally perilous, because no
support could be expected in that direction, as the French troops had
already withdrawn. Sir John French therefore ordered a retirement,
which began on Sunday evening and continued till the following morning.
But the men fell back unwillingly, while they engaged in a terrific
conflict with the oncoming forces of the enemy. Everything possible
was done by the Germans to harass the British and to convert their
withdrawal into a rout. With the aid of powerful searchlights, which
continuously swept towards the country selected for the retirement of
our troops, the enemy endeavoured to deprive them of the advantage of
the night, and covered them with a murderous hail of shot and shell.
But, as we know, the plans of the Germans failed owing to the skill of
our Generals and to the splendid nerve of our men: our lines remained
intact and their spirit unbroken.
Mr. Alfred J. Rorke, special correspondent of the Central News, sent
the following early account of the fighting at Mons:—
PARIS, Monday (received per Courier, Tuesday).
Graphic stories of how the British troops at Mons fought during the
two days in which they bore the brunt of the main German advance
reached Paris in the early hours of this morning, when officers
arriving from the front reported at the War Office, and, in
subsequent conversation with their closest personal friends, told
of the wonderful coolness and daring of our men. The shooting of
our infantry on the firing line, they said, was wonderful. Every
time a German’s head showed above the trenches and every time the
German infantry attempted to rush a position there came a withering
rifle fire from the khaki-clad forms lying in extended formation
along a big battle front.
The firing was not the usual firing of nervous men, shooting
without aiming and sometimes without rhyme or reason, as is so
often the case in warfare. It was rather the calm, calculated
riflemanship of the men one sees on the Stickledown range firing
with all the artificial aids permitted to the match rifle expert
whose one concern is prize money.
When quick action was necessary the firing and the action of the
men was only that of prize riflemen firing at a disappearing
target. There was no excitement, no nervousness; just cool,
methodical efficiency. If the British lost heavily heaven only
knows what the Germans must have lost, because, as one of their
wounded officers (whom the British took prisoner) remarked, “We had
never expected anything like it; it was staggering.”
The British troops went to their positions silently but happily.
There was no singing, because that was forbidden, but as the
khaki-clad columns deployed and began to crawl to the trenches
there were various sallies of humour in the different dialects
of English, Irish, and Scottish counties. The Yorkshireman, for
instance, would draw a comparison between the men they were going
to fight and certain dogs that won’t fight which the Yorkshire
collier has not time to waste upon at the pit-head; the Cockney
soldier was there with his sallies about “Uncle Bill,” and every
Irishman who went into the firing line wished he had the money
to buy a little Irish horse, so that he could have a slap at the
Uhlans.
And the cavalry! Officers coming from the front declare that our
cavalrymen charged the much-vaunted German horsemen as Berserkers
might have done. When they got into action with tunics open,
and sometimes without tunics at all, they flung themselves at
the German horsemen in a manner which surprised even their own
officers, who had themselves expected great things of them. The
Uhlans, whose name and fearful fame had spread terror among the
Belgian peasants and the frontier villages of France, were just the
sort of men the British troopers were waiting for. The Britishers,
mostly Londoners, who, as Wellington said, make the best cavalry
soldiers in the world, were dying to have a cut at them; and when
they got into clinches the Uhlans had the surprise of their lives.
From the scene of battle, the point of interest in the European war
drama, as far as England is concerned, shifted in the small hours
of this morning to the railway station at X, where officers and men
of the Army Service Corps awaited the arrival of the wounded—the
British wounded from the firing line. Everything was perfectly
organised; there was no theatrical display; the officers and men of
the British Army waited silently and calmly for the toll of war,
which they had been advised was on its way.
The West Kents were one of the first of the British troops to come
under fire at Mons, in which they lost four officers killed, including
Major Pach-Beresford, and four officers and seventeen men wounded. A
wounded lance-corporal of this regiment says:—
We reached Mons on Saturday afternoon, August 22, the day before
the battle. We at once commenced to entrench, and were still
engaged on this work when the Germans fired their first shell,
which wrecked a house about twenty yards away. Then we got ready
for the fight. We made loopholes in a wall near the house, and
remained there for fifteen hours under a heavy fire of shrapnel.
The Germans came across the valley in front of us in thousands,
but their rifle fire was absolutely rotten, and such damage as
they did was caused by the big guns which covered their advance.
Numerically the Germans were far superior to us, and as soon as one
lot was shot down another took its place.
We retired from Mons about four o’clock on Monday morning to a
little village on the borders of France. We kept up a rearguard
action all the way, and it was in this that I was wounded. A shell
dropped close to me, and some fragments penetrated my left leg. I
was thrown to the ground, and for a time lay unconscious. When I
recovered I found my rifle and ammunition were missing, having, I
suppose, been taken by the Germans, who evidently thought I was
dead.
The lance-corporal eventually managed to reach St. Quentin.
A private of the same regiment told a thrilling story of the battle:—
It was Sunday, August 23 (he said), that we were at Mons, billeted
in a farmyard, and we were having a sing-song and watching people
home from church. The Belgian ladies were very kind-hearted, and
we were given their prayer-books as souvenirs, and they also went
to the shops and bought us cigarettes, which were most acceptable
to the troops. At about 12.30 an orderly had gone down to draw
dinners, when an aeroplane appeared overhead, throwing out some
black powder. After this shrapnel burst overhead, acquainting us of
the fact that the Germans were in the vicinity.
All was confusion and uproar for the moment, because we were not
armed, and our shirts and socks were out to wash, that being the
only chance we had to get them washed. It did not take us long,
however, to get in fighting trim and to go through the town to
the scene of operations, which was on the other side of a small
canal that adjoined Mons. Here we found the A Company of the Royal
West Kents engaged in a hard tussle in keeping off the enemy until
support arrived. The A Company had been engaged in outpost duty,
so that they were the first to meet the enemy. Their casualties
were very heavy, and they lost all of their officers except Lieut.
Bell, who showed great valour in going out to bring in the wounded.
Most of the damage was done by the shells, although at times the
enemy were within 300 yards of our troops. We arrived in the nick
of time, and took up position in a glass-blowing factory. We
loop-holed the walls and held that position until darkness set in.
With darkness upon us we fixed bayonets, and lay in wait in case
the enemy made an attempt to rush us.
About eleven p.m. we received orders to retire over the canal. Two
sections of C Company were left to keep the enemy in check, whilst
the remainder of the battalion retired. After all had crossed the
bridge was blown up, so that we were likely to be left in peace
until the Germans could find a means of crossing the river. The
two sections of C Company that had been left behind, unfortunately,
were unable to retire over the bridge before it was blown up, and
they had to find their own ways and means of getting across. Most
of them managed to do so. We retired from the town of Mons, and
got into open country, but we still kept on moving throughout the
night. When daylight arrived we saw that Mons had been practically
demolished, and that the Germans were also firing at times at the
hospital. Throughout the morning we continued to fight a rearguard
action. We did not leave off trekking until six in the evening,
when we found ourselves well out of the range of the German
artillery in a valley surrounded by large hills. Here all the
troops were glad to lie down and get something to eat, as we had
been without food since the previous morning.
Hungry soldiers were thankful to go into the swede and turnip
fields and make a meal of these roots as though they were apples.
We found the French and Belgian people very kind to us on the line
of march. They would stand at the wayside and give us fruit, and
they had large tubs of water ready, and this the troops very much
appreciated.
About eight o’clock all lights were ordered to be put out and no
noise to be made, and we all lay down for a well-earned rest after
two trying days, putting out pickets in case of surprise. About
an hour before dawn we were all ordered to stand to arms, and the
column was once more engaged in a retiring movement.
As the column was on the march, I saw a duel in the air between
French and German aeroplanes. It was wonderful to see the Frenchman
manœuvre to get the upper position of the German, and after about
ten minutes or a quarter of an hour the Frenchman got on top, and
blazed away with a revolver on the German. He injured him so much
as to cause him to descend, and when found he was dead. The British
troops buried the airman and burnt the aeroplane.
During that day we were not troubled by any more German aeroplanes,
and about five p.m. a halt was ordered, and we took things
comfortably, hoping to have a rest until daylight came again. We
were fortunate enough not to be disturbed that night, and at dawn
we again stood to arms, and we found the Germans close upon our
heels. The column got on the move, and several regiments were
ordered to entrench themselves. We found it very hot and fatiguing
work with such small tools to use. We soon found, however, that
“where there’s a will there’s a way,” and quickly entrenched
ourselves so as to be protected from the artillery fire. It was not
long before the German artillery found our trenches and gave us
rather a warm time. Our own artillery had to open fire at 2,100
yards, which was very close for artillery. I saw a battery in
front of us put out of action. There were only about six men left
amongst them, and they were engaged in trying to get away the guns.
This disaster was due to the accurate shell firing of the German
artillery.
In their efforts the brave gunners were not successful, owing to
their horses being killed. It was interesting to see an officer
engaged in walking round the guns and putting them out of action,
or in other words seeing that they would be of no use to the
Germans. This action required a great deal of bravery under the
circumstances, because the enemy continued to keep up the heavy
firing. Much bravery was also displayed by wounded comrades of the
battery helping one another to get out of the firing line.
About this time the enemy were advancing, owing to the superiority
of numbers, and hand-to-hand fighting had taken place in the right
trenches. Owing to the artillery firing being so heavy, and the
British being in such comparatively small numbers, the officer in
charge of my company deemed it wise to retire. It was rather late,
however, and he said to the men who were in the trenches: “Now,
boys, every man for himself.” Having got these orders, we were not
long in doing a retiring movement and trying to save our own skins.
It was hard to see my own comrades being cut down like corn owing
to the deadly shrapnel firing.
I was wounded at this point by a bullet from a maxim gun. I
staggered at the time, thinking my hand had been blown off; but
I recovered and kept on the run, and got in a trench, where I
bandaged myself up. From there I continued to retire on my own,
as I had lost touch with my section. I ran into the general
commanding, and he asked me what was the matter with me. I told him
I was wounded, and he said, “For God’s sake, man, don’t go into the
hospital; they are blowing it up now.” I did not want telling that
twice, and I started to track down country to get into touch with
the column, where I knew the ambulance men were, and they would
dress my wound.
When I got to the ambulance wagons I found they were mostly full
with wounded who were in a far worse plight than I was. So I went
along with the column, and a motor lorry came by and I got a lift
to St. Quentin.
“So awful was the fighting that it is wonderful that anybody ever
came out of it alive. I have no idea how we did come through,” said a
wounded corporal of the Royal Engineers.
The corporal and his comrades were ordered to build a pontoon bridge
over the Mons Canal. This work was begun early on the Sunday morning,
August 23, in the face of a murderous rifle and shell fire. Gradually
the bridge was pushed over, until it was almost within touch of the
bank held by the enemy. Man after man of the British Engineers was
hit, but still the rest stuck to their task, heedless of the rain of
missiles all around.
Late in the afternoon the corporal was standing in the water assisting
in the construction, when a shrapnel shell wounded him in the right
arm. He made for the bank, only to find that his boots, which he
had removed, had disappeared. He bound up his wounded arm with his
handkerchief, and soon afterwards work on the bridge was abandoned.
Orders were given to get to cover the best way possible, and to
wait until darkness fell. Then our troops fell back owing to the
overwhelming numbers of the Germans. The corporal removed his putties,
bound them round his feet, and started to retire. In the darkness,
however, he lost the main body of the British, and wandered away to the
west.
After a while he met a wounded Gordon Highlander, who had had his teeth
shot away, and was also lost. The Highlander bound up the Engineer’s
arm with his first field dressing, and the two men snatched what sleep
they could under a hedge. Their breakfast next morning was a raw swede,
pulled up from one of the fields.
Throughout that day they trudged on and on through a deserted country,
but as night fell they came to some cottages scattered on the roadside.
The inhabitants, recognising them as British, welcomed the wanderers,
and gave them a good meal of bread and butter, cheese, and rabbit. They
also allowed the soldiers to sleep there that night, and early in the
morning directed them to Boussu, a town some miles further on in the
direction of Lille.
Creeping slowly and painfully along, under cover of the hedges as far
as possible, the men saw large parties of Uhlans scouting a short
distance ahead. Fortunately a small wood was near by, and, turning
into it, they lay concealed under some bushes for nearly eight hours.
Several times the enemy approached within fifty yards of the fugitives,
who almost feared to breathe. At length, towards evening, the coast
became clear, and the two men were able to continue their journey.
After another night in the open air Boussu was reached on the following
morning. From there they were sent on to Lille, and afterwards to Le
Havre and England.
* * * * *
Sergeant Bird and Private Woolgar, of the 4th Dragoon Guards, also had
the misfortune to miss their regiment. They said:—
It was when we were sent out under General Allenby to help the
left wing, which was hard pressed, that our misfortunes began. Our
horses were shot under us, but we struggled after our men as best
we could until we picked up some German horses, all of which bore
the mark K 4 on the reins. We had hardly got going again when we
had these shot under us by the German artillery, with the result
that we were stranded absolutely on our own, and you can guess our
feelings as we saw our squadron moving away on the right. We were
all more or less injured. One of our chaps had his arms split right
open, and calmly said, “I say, boys, do you think I’m hurt?”
We endeavoured to get the wounded to a neighbouring farmhouse, and
succeeded in taking several there, but on going back with the last
batch were refused admission, as by this time the occupants could
see the Germans bearing down in that direction in force. We then
made for the fowlhouse and hid there, but our position was very
dangerous, as it was not long before the Germans began to enter in
order to wash their wounds at the little well in the corner.
It was pitch dark at the time (continued Sergeant Bird), and I
found the most comfortable position for me was sitting in a basket,
which, I realised after a few moments and by certain signs, had
contained a dozen eggs in the straw. The artillery were now in
action, and the British seemed to have found the spot, as the tiles
of our hiding-place began to fall in, and we found it advisable to
put baskets over our heads as well; otherwise they would have been
split open by the flying tiles and fragments of shells.
When night came we decided to endeavour to escape from our perilous
position, and just outside the door we found a German sentry, who
seemed to be scouting for British fugitives. We passed quite close
to him, but didn’t stop to say “Good-night.” How we did it I can’t
for the life of me tell you, but we did it, and then made off as we
thought towards the British lines, but to our disgust found we were
going right into the German lines. We decided, therefore, to anchor
there for the night and get away in the morning. We found this was
the German Headquarters Staff, so that we can say we dined with the
German generals that night, the only difference being that they
were inside and we were outside; they were having wines, &c., and
we had swedes and no &c.
In the morning we had to dodge sentries, but found that presented
little difficulty. We decided then to travel south-west, with the
sun as our guide. To do this, however, was impossible, for in our
wanderings we had day after day to dodge German troops, who were
continually marching across our tracks. We can hardly describe what
happened during this time, but the harrowing sights we saw will
never be effaced from our memories. Our condition was terrible,
for we were at one time reduced to five biscuits between three of
us, and these had to suffice us for three days. Sometimes we were
afraid to drink water because we heard it was poisoned. At last we
met the British.
Private Alexander Andrews, of the Royal Scots, spoke of the deadly
havoc of the shrapnel:—
But the German infantry could not hit the place they belong to.
We could not help hitting them. We saw them first about 800 yards
away, and they came along in bunches just like a crowd leaving a
football match. Our Maxims simply struck them down, and I will
guarantee that for every one that fell on our side they lost ten or
twelve. It was “rapid firing,” and we gave it them hot. None in our
trench was killed, and we had only five or six, including myself,
injured with shrapnel. A piece of shrapnel struck me on the top
of the left ankle about half-past seven o’clock, cutting through
my boot and making me feel a little queer. I bandaged it up, and
went off with the others when the order came to retire about one
o’clock on the Monday morning. Mons was in flames by that time,
and the German big guns had been blazing about all night. We had
been in a tight corner—two regiments against thousands, as most
of us believe—and I would like to say a word for our captain,
Captain Hill Whitson. In the trenches on the Sunday night, August
23, he was walking about with his revolver, ready for anything, and
cheering us up while the shrapnel played about our position. Well,
as I said, we had to retire. We went back three or four miles. The
first regiment we saw was the Gordons, and I took particular notice
that they had a German prisoner in the front of their ranks.
The aeroplanes were employed with great skill by the Germans, before
opening fire, to take observations for the range of their artillery,
and the precise locality of our soldiers. It was, moreover, evident
that they possessed an intimate knowledge of the country where the
fighting took place. Owing to the enormous number of the German
reserves, when one regiment was vanquished another was always ready to
take its place, and so they advanced like an avalanche.
The slaughter was awful: the British suffered terribly, but the German
losses were appalling. It is stated that in some places the dead of
the enemy was piled up to a height of six feet, and that to pass over
them the Germans made bridges of the corpses of their own men.
Here, as elsewhere, the Germans resorted to cowardly brutality. Their
cavalry are said to have driven women and children in front of them in
the streets, to protect them from the British fire. But the enemy lost
as well as gained reputations: Sir Philip Chetwode, the cavalry leader,
after fighting without ceasing for ten days, with odds of five to one
against them, said, “We have been through the Uhlans like brown paper.”
Innumerable cases of personal heroism have been recalled. That of
Captain Grenfell must not be omitted. Although suffering from two
severe wounds, he participated in the rescue of two British guns, after
shrapnel shell had burst over them and struck the artillerymen who were
serving them. This act enabled troopers of the 9th Lancers under his
direction to get away.
According to the statement of the Paris correspondent of the _Daily
Telegraph_, gathered from the reports of Belgian and British fugitives,
between Saturday and Monday, August 22–24, the British Expeditionary
Force bore the brunt of six furious attacks made by six distinct
German columns, which were all repulsed successfully, though with
considerable loss. The Allies raised a veritable hecatomb of German
corpses near Mons. At different points on the battlefield, the bodies
of Germans were heaped up so that in the course of their furious charge
the Turcos experienced great difficulty in coming into contact with the
enemy.
We can picture our men fighting doggedly on, in the din and carnage of
the engagement, during those hot August days and calm clear nights,
with the never-ceasing crack of rifle-shots, the boom of the artillery
fire and the scream of the shells, while the enemy came on with
relentless and unending regularity.
CHAPTER III
FIGHTING AT CHARLEROI IN THE FRENCH LINES—A RAILWAY OFFICIAL’S
ADVENTURE—A ZOUAVE OFFICER’S IMPRESSIONS—FRENCH ARTILLERY
—HEAVY GERMAN CASUALTIES—-THE FALL OF NAMUR—A BELGIAN
SOLDIER’S TRIBUTE.
Shifting the scene for a time to the operations on the French lines, we
obtain a view of the fighting in the neighbourhood of Charleroi on the
eve of the great battle on the Belgian frontier, from the description
of a correspondent to a Paris paper, and communicated by Mr. A.
Beaumont:—
Our troops, he said, in conformity with the plan laid down for them
are harassing the Germans on the right and the left banks of the
Meuse, keeping in constant contact with them, killing as many of
their scouting parties as possible.
I witnessed on Friday morning, August 21, a series of engagements
of this kind outside the suburbs of Charleroi. I saw our outposts
everywhere, and heard rifle fire here and there, with now and then
troopers coming in and bringing prisoners with them.
Our cavalry was in splendid form, and eager for action. Two hundred
yards from a certain bridge I saw seven Uhlans coming out of a
wood. Three of them were shot down at once, and the remainder
hurriedly fled.
On my return to Charleroi I learn that a detachment of twenty
Hussars of the Death’s Head, led by an officer, had entered the
upper town at seven in the morning. They proceeded towards the
Sambre, and quietly said, “Good morning” to the people at the
doors. “Bon jour, bon jour,” they said to the housewives, who were
looking on in wonder, and who, mistaking their khaki uniform, took
them for English soldiers.
People even enthusiastically raised cheers for England. The
soldiers, also misled, allowed them to pass. An officer finally saw
them from a window, and rushed down to a detachment on guard in the
Rue Pont Neuf, and gave the alarm. A number of infantry soldiers
at once opened fire on them. It was at the corner of the Rue de
Montigny, where the tramway and railway lines pass.
Three of the intruders were shot down, and the rest, with their
officer, took to flight. It was not believed that such a thing
would be possible, but it proved that the Germans are capable of
anything. They did the same thing many a time in 1870.
At two in the afternoon the guns were heard in the north. The
Germans, coming from Eghezee, had placed heavy batteries and siege
guns in position before Namur. But the Namur forts immediately sent
such a murderous and accurate fire in reply that, in less than
half an hour, the German battery was silenced, and half the guns
demolished.
Another line of attack chosen by the Germans was between Brand
L’Alleud and Genappe, over a front of some ten to twelve miles. The
German batteries here met with the same fate.
A day later the same writer said, in writing from Jeumont:—
I left Charleroi last night for Jeumont, on the French frontier,
but not a bit too soon. It was high time. This very morning the
engineers of the Northern railway line witnessed the attack on
Charleroi.
The Germans, from the outskirts of the upper town, were sending
shells on the railway station and on salient parts of the lower
town. They were trying to force a passage across the bridges over
the Sambre. Fugitives from all sides arrive here (at Jeumont) by
the last trains. After two o’clock in the afternoon the guns were
distinctly heard, first from the direction of Charleroi, then from
Thuin.
The Germans are being met by the English. This is the beginning of
the great battle which has been expected.
An account of the French operations on Saturday, August 22, was printed
in _La Liberté_ from the description of a railway official on the
Belgian frontier. The official said:—
It was on Saturday, towards nightfall, that we heard the first
sound of the cannon. We had known, however, for several hours
that strong German forces were preparing to attack the allied
armies massed on the banks of the Sambre, and that a great battle
was imminent. All night long, without cessation, the cannonading
continued. Till dawn we had no news of the battle. On Sunday
morning we learned from wounded soldiers on their way to Maubeuge
that the battle was engaged all along the line, and shortly
afterwards we heard the sound of heavy firing to the north. From
noon onwards we could distinctly see the flight of shrapnel through
the air, and from the top of the motor-house, situated on rising
ground, could follow the phases of the artillery duel.
We soon saw that the Germans’ fire was badly directed. They rarely
hit their mark. On the other hand, the English artillery fire,
which held the heights round Mons, was admirable in its precision,
and wrought terrible loss among the massed German troops. We
remained all Sunday night on our observatory, and at dawn we had
the conviction that the English very definitely had the upper hand,
and that the German attack had been repulsed.
However, the news which reached us during the evening from environs
of Charleroi was anything but good. It was said that the town had
been taken and retaken several times, and had been subjected to a
terrible bombardment, which had reduced it practically to ruins.
At two o’clock on Monday morning a cyclist messenger informed us
that the French had once more occupied the town. He said that the
Germans before leaving it had set it on fire, and that the French
troops would find it difficult to maintain their position there.
In any case, the cannonade became louder during the night, and at
daybreak shells were bursting within a quarter of a mile of the
station.
Later in the morning of Monday we received orders to evacuate the
station, which was now becoming untenable. We were told that, the
French having been outnumbered on the east of Charleroi, the allied
troops had been compelled to retire on the frontier. When we were
leaving the station and getting into the carriage, we heard the
sound of joyous shouts from the road. We went out to see what had
happened, and to our stupefaction saw a detachment of seven Uhlans
commanded by an officer. The inhabitants, unfamiliar with foreign
uniforms, had taken them for English cavalry. The error was soon
discovered. A French captain on service in the station shot the
German officer through the head, and a patrol of mounted Chasseurs
rode up and took the men prisoners.
The defence of Charleroi by the French against the overwhelming hosts
of the Germans was a marvel of audacity and courage.
Two inhabitants of Auvelais, a straggling village with a population
of about 8,000, situated between Charleroi and Namur, gave the
following account of what they have witnessed:—Our village (they
said) occupies both banks of the Sambre, the portion on the left
bank being divided into two by the main road leading from Genappe
to Eghezée. Since Sunday week German aeroplanes have been flying
over the country, and one was pursued, though unsuccessfully, by
a French machine. Many French troops passed and were received
with enthusiasm. On Thursday evening, August 20, a patrol of
Uhlans suddenly appeared on the road. The French horsemen were in
their saddles at once, and left the village at full gallop, their
swords flashing in the air. They overtook the Uhlans at Balatre,
and attacked them, killing six and returning without any loss to
themselves.
At eight o’clock next morning firing began. The Germans advanced by
the main road, literally crawling along the ground, and stopping
now and then to fire. Just at this time a German aeroplane dropped
a bomb on a factory, but without doing any damage. By ten o’clock
the firing on both sides was terrific. From where we were we saw
six French soldiers fall. Suddenly the French artillery came into
action, and until midday the guns fired continuously with terrible
effect. On the other hand, a German shell, which struck the roof of
a house opposite us, rolled into the road without exploding, and
we saw many others which also failed to explode. The Germans took
shelter in the houses on the left bank, and the French infantry
were ordered to retire in order that the artillery might dislodge
the enemy.
In five minutes everything was burning. Other Germans came through
the woods and entered the town, where they behaved like madmen.
They smashed in doors with their rifle butts and threw special
burning cartridges into the houses. We were warned that it was time
for us to escape, but we saw some terrible scenes. A woman who had
forgotten to bring some clothing for her baby, and who returned to
obtain it, was seized by the Germans. They made her march before
them, and at the end of about 200 yards killed her. The French,
though inferior in numbers, resisted splendidly, and the Germans
were compelled to halt.
The artillery duel was then resumed. Everything round our house
was burning furiously, and we had to abandon all. When we arrived
at Esau the soldiers made us crawl along the edge of a wood. The
bullets were whistling above us, and of the forty people in our
party only three dared to pass. At Chatelet we met strong bodies of
French troops, and at eight in the evening we left for Charleroi.
The fighting, however, had spread, and we had to go further. At
8.30 the last train left. A German aeroplane dropped a bomb within
twenty yards of us, and though all the glass in the station was
broken, no one was hurt. We thought we might reach Mons, but there
was fighting there, and we were taken to the frontier and thence to
Paris.
A criticism came from a wounded gunner. “If we lose many men,” he
said, “it is the fault of the infantry. They go ahead too quickly,
and end by interfering with our fire.”
A French Zouave officer, who returned wounded from the front, related
the following. His regiment took part in the fighting round Charleroi
when the Prussian Guard Regiments suffered so severely.
Describing the effect of the German artillery, the officer said that
the shells when they burst produce a series of terrific explosions, but
do comparatively little damage. The soldiers quickly perceiving their
chief characteristic is noise soon get accustomed to them. One man who
was struck in the back by a splinter of shell was merely bruised.
On the other hand the French artillery fire had a deadly effect. Its
accuracy was little short of marvellous. For instance, he saw a German
battery appearing in the distance, and even before it could unlimber it
was destroyed by the French fire.
The ravages caused by the French artillery were enormous. Whole ranks
of infantry were mown down by the shrapnel, some of those shot dead
remaining standing owing to the numbers of bodies accumulated round
them.
The officer estimated the German casualties during three days of
fighting at between 50,000 and 60,000, far exceeding the French losses.
He confirmed acts of untold cruelty perpetrated by the Germans. The
French soldiers were enraged by their practice of finishing off
the wounded. One officer, severely wounded while his regiment was
retreating, was so convinced of the fate in store for him that he blew
his brains out.
The Germans seemed to delight in wanton destruction. At nightfall their
lines were lit up by burning villages on the horizon.
When asked his opinion regarding the military value of the German
troops, the officer said that their bravery was wonderful, especially
that of the Imperial Guard, which did not flinch before a most
murderous fire.
On the other hand, the _moral_ of the French troops was splendid.
They were not in the least disheartened by a temporary check, and were
convinced that if well led they would achieve wonders.
A number of French soldiers wounded in the battle of Charleroi reached
Chartres soon after the battle. A soldier in the Colonial Infantry
gave his impressions of his part of the fierce fighting—naturally a
restricted part. “I only saw a tiny morsel of the battle,” he said.
“With our African comrades we advanced against the Prussian Guard. The
bullets sang continuously above our heads. We advanced by short rushes,
taking advantage of the smallest cover. We were as if intoxicated by
the wine of battle. I do not know how long our advance lasted. All I
remember is that our last shots were fired at fifty yards distance from
the enemy. Then we rushed forward and attacked them with cold steel.
Had we been more fortunate our attack would have given us the victory.
There are no troops in the world, however courageous they may be, who
can stand against a bayonet attack of our African soldiers. Unhappily,
our charge was broken by a withering fire from machine guns which the
Germans had concealed in the ruins of an old factory. We had to retire
with severe loss, but it is consoling to think that the Prussian Guard
must have suffered at least as heavily.”
Several wounded soldiers of an infantry regiment also gave their
impressions on that part of the Titanic struggle in which they were
engaged. They said that the Prussian marksmanship was not good. They
fired too low. Besides, when the French advanced in skirmishing line,
they protected their breast with their packs. These improvised bucklers
deadened the force of the enemy’s bullets. The German practice with the
machine guns, on the other hand, was deadly, but the position of these
guns was easily discovered, and when discovered they were speedily
silenced by the French seventy-fives. The Turcos, who, though the most
formidable of fighters, have an ineradicable strain of childishness
in their nature, seem to have supplied very helpful comic relief. One
of them captured a German officer, carefully disarmed him, and was
leading him off to the rear, when the officer began cursing him in
broken French. Our Turco’s first impulse was to kill his prisoner, but
he thought better and more wisely of it. He decided to humiliate him.
Accordingly, at the bayonet-point, he compelled the officer to carry
his pack, and, to put the finishing touch to the humiliation, placed
his regimental gamelle, or saucepan, on the prisoner’s head. The entry
of the Turco into camp, preceded by a Prussian major, crowned with a
saucepan and performing an impromptu goose-step at the point of the
bayonet, was highly successful.
While the British troops were fighting at Mons and the French were
engaged at Charleroi, Namur was in the last throes of siege. The
strategic value of its position at the confluence of the rivers Sambre
and Meuse rendered it of supreme importance to the Allies, and the
fame of its forts was such as to raise high expectations as to their
powers of endurance. The unexpected news, therefore, of the fall of
Namur on August 23 was received with dismay, because it was believed
that after the siege of Liège it could make a stout resistance with the
support of the Allied Armies. But for several days the fortress had
been practically isolated as the French were not sufficiently advanced
to render it much aid, and its fall was due to the tremendous fire of
the German siege guns. Some of these howitzers were stated to have been
11 inches (28 cm.) calibre, and to have required teams of 35 horses to
move them. Of these guns there were some thirty batteries in action,
with one or two guns to a battery. A number of howitzers concentrated
simultaneously on each fort and smothered it with fire. The Germans are
said to have attacked in a formation three ranks deep, the front rank
lying down, the second kneeling, and the third standing. They afforded
a target, which was fully used, for machine-gun fire. The Turcos fought
well against the German Guard Corps, but while attacking they were
trapped by Germans sounding their charge at 600 yards, and they were
“badly mauled” at 300 yards from the German position.
The inhabitants of Namur, said M. Auguste Mellot, the deputy of the
town, had hopes until Thursday, August 13, that the Belgian army,
joined by the French and English, would meet the forces of General
von Emmich and rout them before they reached Namur. But on that day
the Belgian horsemen met a detachment of Uhlans who were much more
numerous than usual. Although they were repulsed, not without a hard
struggle, by the Belgian lancers and carbineers, they did not doubt
that the Germans would return in greater force. Preparations were
therefore made in Namur for a strong resistance. But while they were
thus occupied, the first three shells burst over the town on August 14.
One of them struck the bridge of Salzinnes in the midst of a gathering
of onlookers, five of whom were killed. From that moment they received
shells every day. There were more killed in consequence, not to speak
of the material damage done. On Saturday, August 15, the cannonade was
distinctly heard at Dinant, where the Germans were trying to force
the passage over the Meuse, and were repulsed by the fire from the
French machine guns. After this it was thought that the Allied armies
would be able to drive the Germans out of Belgium. However, the German
cavalry came nearer and nearer to Namur every day. Information was then
received that the railway line was cut. The mail from Brussels failed
to arrive regularly.
On August 18 the anxiety of the inhabitants increased. The German
cavalry had been seen at a place in the neighbourhood and it was
evident that they were being surrounded. On Thursday, August 20, their
fears became still greater. They gave up hopes of hearing of a decisive
battle north of Namur. News had arrived of the occupation of Brussels,
and no one was permitted to pass between the lines of the forts, even
with a permit.
During the night the cannonade began all around Namur. On August 21 the
battle around the town became general and lasted all day. While eleven
German Army Corps were passing the Meuse, coming from Bisé, a powerful
force was detailed to mask their march, and kept up a heavy fire on
our positions. The German attacks were multiplied the whole time, and
their fire extended over a line of some ten miles on the left bank of
the Meuse, and over a similar line of the right bank of the same river.
During that time the French forces sent to meet them tried to check the
German advance.
By five p.m. on August 23 Namur was completely evacuated, the defenders
finding themselves unable to support the heavy artillery fire.
* * * * *
A Belgian soldier, who pays a high tribute to the courage of our men,
in a letter to a relative in England says:—
Many of us have been able to see for ourselves the wonderful phlegm
of the British soldiers. They are born warriors. They are soldiers
by predilection as much as by trade. Most of them have taken part
in numerous campaigns, and many fought in the Boer War, in which
they gained precious experience. We have listened with admiration
to the glorious accounts which our chivalrous French neighbours
have given to the world of the British soldiers’ coolness and
tenacity in the fight near the village of Quaregnon, where
twenty-six Britishers routed more than 3,500 Germans. The fight was
witnessed by some of our own staff, and the story is absolutely
authentic.
It happened after the different battles which resulted in the
evacuation of Mons. The Britishers, who had fought like heroes,
must have retreated with reluctance in obedience, it is true,
to orders received from the military authorities. As they were
only giving ground step by step twenty-six Fusiliers entrenched
themselves in a farm overlooking the long, straight road leading to
Quaregnon. They were in possession of several mitrailleuses, and
they made holes in the farm door, three lines of three holes in
superposition, and placed their mitrailleuses in position.
“Now, boys,” shouted one of the twenty-six, “we are going to
cinematograph the grey devils when they come along. This is going
to be Coronation Day. Let each of us take as many pictures as
possible.”
As soon as the Germans appeared on the road and started attacking
the canal bridge the Fusiliers very coolly turned the handle of
their deadly guns, commencing with the lower tier, and with the
same placidity as a bioscope operator would have done.
The picture witnessed from the farm on the “living screen” by the
canal bridge was one that will not easily be forgotten. The “grey
devils,” as the Germans are now commonly called, dropped down
in hundreds like those tin soldiers (made in Germany) which our
children arrange in long lines on the table and which fall in one
big mass when the first one is slightly touched with the finger. In
a few minutes the corpses were heaping up. Then followed another
onslaught by the mitrailleuses placed against the upper part of the
door, followed immediately by a fresh deadly sweep and by another
one.
The Germans, however, found out their difficult position, which
exposed them to this destructive fire, and they resolutely took a
turning move, and made straight for the farm. When they got there
they found neither guns nor Fusiliers, but only an opening in a
party wall, through which the plucky operators had disappeared with
their apparatus.
There was nothing left for the Germans but to continue their
march along the road, which gets narrower just before entering
the village. They had not gone more than 200 yards before a fresh
rain of lead, which was kept going for a long time, and mowed them
down like grass, and in still more considerable numbers than at
the first fight. With a wild rush the remainder of the Germans,
about 150, stormed the door of the new farm which sheltered the
enemy, but found only the mitrailleuses, conscientiously put out
of order. As for the twenty-six heroes, they had disappeared like
a conjurer’s rabbit, to rejoin their regiment, without having
sustained the slightest injury, after having routed 3,500 Germans.
CHAPTER IV
THE BRITISH TROOPS RETIRE INTO FRANCE—THE ADVENTURES OF A
CHAPLAIN TO A FIELD AMBULANCE—THE ROYAL FIELD ARTILLERY—A
WOUNDED GUNNER—LOSING HIS REGIMENT—A GORDON HIGHLANDER’S
EXPERIENCES—OPERATIONS OF THE FRENCH TROOPS—BRITISH
_versus_ GERMAN CAVALRY—SIR JOHN FRENCH’S ACCOUNT OF THE
EVENTS OF AUGUST 25—THE BATTLE OF CAMBRAI—THE REV. OWEN S.
WATKINS’ ADVENTURES—MR. ASQUITH ANNOUNCES A WONDERFUL FEAT OF
ARMS.
We now return to Sir John French’s despatch and quote that portion
in which he describes the causes that forced him to retire to the
Bavai—Maubeuge line on Monday, August 24:—
In view of the possibility of my being driven from the Mons
position, I had previously ordered a position in rear to be
reconnoitred. This position rested on the fortress of Maubeuge on
the right and extended west to Jenlain, south-east of Valenciennes,
on the left. The position was reported difficult to hold, because
standing crops and buildings made the sighting of trenches very
difficult and limited the field of fire in many important
localities. It nevertheless afforded a few good artillery positions.
When the news of the retirement of the French and the heavy German
threatening on my front reached me, I endeavoured to confirm it by
aeroplane reconnaissance; and as a result of this I determined to
effect a retirement to the Maubeuge position at daybreak on the
24th.
A certain amount of fighting continued along the whole line
throughout the night, and at daybreak on the 24th the 2nd Division
from the neighbourhood of Harmignies made a powerful demonstration
as if to retake Binche. This was supported by the artillery of
both the 1st and 2nd Divisions, whilst the 1st Division took up
a supporting position in the neighbourhood of Peissant. Under
cover of this demonstration the Second Corps retired on the line
Dour—Quarouble—Frameries. The 3rd Division on the right of the
Corps suffered considerable loss in this operation from the enemy,
who had retaken Mons.
The Second Corps halted on this line, where they partially
entrenched themselves, enabling Sir Douglas Haig with the First
Corps gradually to withdraw to the new position; and he effected
this without much further loss, reaching the line Bavai—Maubeuge
about 7 p.m. Towards midday the enemy appeared to be directing his
principal effort against our left.
I had previously ordered General Allenby with the Cavalry to act
vigorously in advance of my left front and endeavour to take the
pressure off.
About 7.30 a.m. General Allenby received a message from Sir George
Fergusson, commanding 5th Division, saying that he was very hard
pressed and in urgent need of support. On receipt of this message
General Allenby drew in the Cavalry and endeavoured to bring direct
support to the 5th Division.
During the course of this operation General De Lisle, of the 2nd
Cavalry Brigade, thought he saw a good opportunity to paralyse the
further advance of the enemy’s infantry by making a mounted attack
on his flank. He formed up and advanced for this purpose, but was
held up by wire about 500 yards from his objective, and the 9th
Lancers and 18th Hussars suffered severely in the retirement of the
Brigade.
The 19th Infantry Brigade, which had been guarding the Line of
Communications, was brought up by rail to Valenciennes on the 22nd
and 23rd. On the morning of the 24th they were moved out to a
position south of Quarouble to support the left flank of the Second
Corps.
With the assistance of the Cavalry Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien was
enabled to effect his retreat to a new position; although, having
two corps of the enemy on his front and one threatening his flank,
he suffered great losses in doing so.
At nightfall the position was occupied by the Second Corps to
the west of Bavai, the First Corps to the right. The right was
protected by the Fortress of Maubeuge, the left by the 19th Brigade
in position between Jenlain and Bry, and the Cavalry on the outer
flank.
General French crossed the Belgian frontier into France when he retired
to the position, already reconnoitred, resting on Maubeuge. This town
is situated on both banks of the river Sambre, and is protected by a
fortress of the first class. From the statement of a refugee, it would
seem Maubeuge can show evidence that the German attack on France had
long been premeditated. All the German heavy artillery, he says, was
placed on platforms of concrete built on sites carefully selected by
private individuals some years ago as the foundation of factories which
were never completed.
Fighting, as Sir John tells us, continued on Saturday night, the 22nd,
and early on Sunday morning along the whole of the British lines, which
were unsupported by the French troops. Mons fell into the hands of the
enemy, who were piercing our extreme left, but a cavalry attack on
their flank under the direction of General de Lisle checked the further
advance of the Germans, and by a tactical feat of great skill, but not
without severe losses, Sir John French effected a successful retirement
by Sunday night, August 23.
Of the achievements of the three regiments of General de Lisle’s
command, most is known of the doings of the 9th Lancers, but both the
4th Royal Irish Dragoon Guards and the 18th (Queen Mary’s Own) Hussars
covered themselves with glory.
The brigade commenced operations in Belgian territory towards Namur, in
its own allotted zone. A carefully organised and extensive system of
reconnoitring detachments was instituted. Officers’ patrols were pushed
forward, supported by contact troops. The patrols were also assisted by
motor scouts. There was also a concentrated group of squadrons, with
two batteries of Royal Horse Artillery, which moved out to meet the
enemy at break of day.
Information came to hand of the artillery positions of the Germans,
and of preparations being made by them for a general advance. The
cavalry field guns were early engaged in operations against the enemy’s
cavalry, followed later by a _mêlée_, in which the German dragoons got
much the worst of it. Fighting took place practically every day, as the
British troops were compelled to fall back. The German cavalry were
sought for and engaged, in the hope that the enemy’s artillery might
be captured. There was a fixed desire on the part of our men to get
hold of the guns which have played such havoc with shrapnel. A wounded
cavalryman says that they have “knocked the stuffing out of the German
cavalry.”
“At first,” he says “they came for us, and we put case shot into
them at 500 yards, and then dismounted squadrons, and stopped their
advance with the rifle, throwing them into confusion. We then
mounted and rode straight at them. They opened out and let us ride
through them, and it was then we emptied their saddles. They don’t
appear to like personal encounter. Some were dragged from their
seats and pegged with the lance. They don’t come for us now, and
directly we see them we make for them. We have galloped for a mile
to get at them. Once they drew us on to the fire of their infantry.
We were only 200 yards away when they fired on us, but we were
going too fast for them to hit us.
“Our echelons came up into line at the time, and we spread out as
we met them hand to hand. Many surrendered without fighting, and
those that made off came under the fire of our guns. The German
cavalry have excellent mounts, and the horses are well trained.
Somehow the men haven’t got the same grit as our chaps. When they
hear our yell and see our swords they turn pale, and want to be
off. If it wasn’t for their officers I believe they’d never face
us.”
The Rev. Owen Spencer Watkins, who was one of the chaplains attached
to a Field Ambulance of the British Expeditionary Forces, contributed
to the _Methodist Recorder_ a story of the retreat with the army from
Mons to Paris in care of the wounded. We have ventured to quote from
Mr. Watkins’s article a few passages:—He left Dublin on August 16 and
embarked on the transport _City of Benares_, which carried, besides
himself, three Anglican and one Roman Catholic chaplain. During a
voyage of forty-eight hours, they were “convoyed” from Ireland to
Land’s End by British men-of-war, and through the English Channel by
French warships. At Land’s End the British ship that had been watching
over them passed within hailing distance, and the “blue-jackets”
crowded to the ship’s side shouting their good wishes, to which the men
on the outgoing boat responded with ringing cheers.
After a train journey from Havre of twenty hours, they reached
Valenciennes on Sunday morning, August 23. “With as little delay as
possible,” said Mr. Watkins, “we detrained, for we were told the
great fight at Mons had already started, and we were urgently needed
in the fighting line. Then followed a twenty miles’ march, almost
without a halt, through villages where the population received us
with enthusiasm—showered flowers upon us as we passed, pressed gifts
of fruit, wine, cider, tea, and coffee upon the troops, whilst our
men, to show their gratitude, shouted ‘Vive la France,’ chanted the
Marseillaise, and cheered until they were hoarse. Then the dark and
sleeping villages were suddenly awakened by the tramp of men. The
troops were now marching doggedly and silently, the monotonous tramp,
tramp almost sent me to sleep in the saddle, and would have done
so but for the aching of bones and muscles which for long had been
unaccustomed to so many hours on horseback.
“Towards the morning of August 24 we halted in the little town of
Bavai, and bivouacked in the main square. Here we found a Red Cross
Hospital in charge of a priest and a few sisters, and in it were
already some of our men; one, a man of the Dorset Regiment, was
apparently dying of pneumonia; another, a Royal Engineer, smashed in
a motor accident, had just died, and, at the request of the Sisters,
Mr. Winnifrith, the Church of England Chaplain, held a little service,
where he lay in the mortuary. Then, fully dressed, we threw ourselves
down on vacant beds in one of the wards and snatched a couple of hours’
sleep.
“We wakened just after dawn on August 25 to the sound of heavy firing,
and without waiting even for breakfast we at once moved off. Early in
our march we learned from a Staff Officer, who passed us at the gallop,
that the British had fallen back, and were now holding the line of the
Mons Canal, and that the odds against them were simply overwhelming.
He urged us to push on, as there was a shortage of ambulances, and the
casualty list was already very heavy. Shortly after we crossed the
Belgian frontier, and there were met by the transport of our Division
(the 5th) returning into France. As we urged forward our weary men
and horses, our progress was constantly impeded by pathetic crowds of
terror-stricken refugees—women, children, old men—coming along the
road in droves, carrying their few valuables on their backs, weeping
piteously, some dropping exhausted by the roadside, and all telling
heart-rending stories of homes in flames, and some of outrages which
made the blood run cold, and caused men to set their lips tight and
talk in undertones of the revenge they hoped to take. I cannot describe
it; it will not bear thinking about; but it has left a mark on our
hearts and memories which nothing can efface.”
The desperate character of the fighting at Mons is admitted by every
survivor of that fierce struggle. Those who had also served in the Boer
War say there never was any fighting in South Africa to compare with
it. A sergeant gunner of the Royal Field Artillery, wounded in the jaw
at Tournai, stated that he was on a flank with his gun and fired about
sixty rounds in forty minutes. “We wanted support,” he said, “and could
not get it. It was about 500 English trying to save a flank attack,
against, honestly I should say, 10,000. As fast as you shot them down,
more came. But for their aeroplanes they would be useless. I was firing
for one hour at from 1,500 yards down to 700 yards.”
Driver W. Moore, also of the Royal Field Artillery, wrote:—
It was Sunday night, August 23, when we saw the enemy. We were
ready for action, but were lying down to have a rest, when orders
came to stand at our posts. It was about four a.m. on Monday when
we started to fire; we were at it all day till six p.m., when
we started to advance. Then the bugle sounded the charge, and
the cavalry and infantry charged like madmen at the enemy; then
the enemy fell back about forty miles, so we held at bay till
Wednesday, when the enemy was reinforced. Then they came on to
Mons, and by that time we had every man, woman, and child out of
the town.... We were situated on a hill in a cornfield and we could
see all over the country. It was about three p.m., and we started
to let them have a welcome by blowing up two of their batteries in
about five minutes; then the infantry let go, and then the battle
was in full swing.
In the middle of the battle a driver got wounded and asked to see
the colours before he died, and he was told by an officer that
the guns were his colours. He replied, “Tell the drivers to keep
their eyes on their guns, because if we lose our guns we lose our
colours.”
Just then the infantry had to retire, and the gunners had to leave
their guns, but the drivers were so proud of their guns that they
went and got them out, and we retired to St. Quentin. We had a
roll-call, and only ten were left out of my battery. This was the
battle in which poor Winchester (an old Cornwall boy) lost his life
in trying to get the guns away.
When the order came to retire it was received by a disappointed force.
Such a one was a private in the Middlesex Regiment, who wrote as
follows:—
It was somewhere in the neighbourhood of Mons, I believe, that we
got our first chance. We had been marching for days with hardly any
sleep. When we took up our position the Germans were nearer than
we thought, because we had only just settled down to get some rest
when there came the blinding glare of the searchlight. This went
away almost as suddenly as it appeared, and it was followed by a
perfect hail of bullets. We lost a good many in the fight, but we
were all bitterly disappointed when we got the order to retire.
I got a couple of bullets through my leg, but I hope it won’t be
long before I get back again. We never got near enough to use our
bayonets. I only wish we had done. Talk about civilised warfare!
Don’t you believe it. The Germans are perfect fiends.
We have already given the experiences of some of the West Kents, who
were in the thick of the fighting from the beginning. The following is
an account by another man in this regiment, who said:—
“We were in a scrubby position just outside Mons from Saturday
afternoon till Monday morning. After four hours of action each of
our six big guns was put out of action. Either the gunners were
killed or wounded, or the guns themselves damaged. For the rest of
the time—that is, until Monday morning, when we retired—we had to
stick the German fire without being able to retaliate. It was bad
enough to stand this incessant banging away, but it made it worse
not to be able to reply.
All day Sunday and all Sunday night the Germans continued to
shrapnel us. At night it was just hellish. We had constructed some
entrenchment, but it didn’t afford much cover, and our losses were
very heavy. On Monday we received the order to retire to the south
of the town, and some hours later, when the roll-call was called,
it was found that we had 300 dead alone, including four officers.
Then an extraordinary thing happened. Me and some of my pals began
to dance. We were just dancing for joy at having escaped with our
skins, and to forget the things we’d seen a bit, when bang! and
there came a shell from the blue, which burst and got, I should
think, quite twenty of us.
That’s how some of us got wounded, as we thought we had escaped.
Then another half-dozen of us got wounded this way. Some of our
boys went down a street near by, and found a basin and some water,
and were washing their hands and faces when another shell burst
above them and laid most of them out.
What happened to us happened to the Gloucesters. Their guns,
too, were put out of action, and, like us, they had to stand the
shell-fire for hours and hours before they were told to retire.
What we would have done without our second in command I don’t know.
During the Sunday firing he got hit in the head. He had two wounds
through the cap in the front and one or two behind, and lost a
lot of blood. Two of our fellows helped to bind up his head, and
offered to carry him back, but he said, ‘It isn’t so bad. I’ll be
all right soon.’ Despite his wounds and loss of blood, he carried
on until we retired on Monday. Then, I think, they took him off to
hospital.”
Some further battle stories from wounded men relate to the fighting
round Mons. One of the Cheshires said:—“Our chaps were also badly
cut up. Apart from the wounded, several men got concussion of the
brain by the mere explosions. It was awful! Under the cover of
their murderous artillery fire, the German infantry advanced to
within three and five hundred yards of our position. With that we
were given the order to fix bayonets, and stood up for the charge.
That did it for the German infantry! They turned tail and ran for
their lives.
Our captain cried out, ‘Now you’ve got ’em, men!’ But we hadn’t.
Their artillery begins with that to fire more hellish than ever,
and before you could almost think what to do, fresh lots of the
‘sausages’ came along, and we had to beat a retreat.
During the retreat one of our sergeants was wounded and fell. With
that our captain runs back and tries to lift him. As he was doing
so he was struck in the foot, and fell over. We thought he was
done for, but he scrambles up and drags the sergeant along until a
couple of us chaps goes out to help ’em in.”
How a number of British troops made a dash in the night to save some
women and children from the Germans was told by Lance-corporal Tanner,
of the 2nd Oxfordshire and Bucks Light Infantry. “On Sunday week,” he
said, “the regiment arrived at Mons.”
“We took up our position in the trenches,” he said, “and fought for
some time. In the evening the order came to retire, and we marched
back to Condé, with the intention of billeting for the night, and
having a rest. Suddenly, about midnight, we were ordered out, and
set off to march to the village of Douai, some miles away, as news
had reached us that the Germans were slaughtering the natives there.
“It was a thrilling march in the darkness, across the unfamiliar
country. We were liable to be attacked at any moment, of course,
but everyone was keen on saving the women and children, and hurried
on. We kept the sharpest look-out on all sides, but saw nothing of
the enemy.
When we reached Douai a number of the inhabitants rushed out to
meet us. They were overjoyed to see us, and speedily told what the
Germans had done. They had killed a number of women and children.
With fixed bayonets we advanced into the village, and we saw signs
all around us of the cruelty of the enemy.“
Private R. Wills, of the Highland Light Infantry, who also took
part in the march to the village, here continued the story. “We
found that most of the Germans had not waited for our arrival, and
there were only a few left in the place. However, we made sure that
none remained there.
We started a house-to-house search. Our men went into all the
houses, and every now and then they found one or two of the enemy
hiding in a corner or upstairs. Many of them surrendered at once,
others did not.
When we had cleared the village, some of us lay down on the
pavements, and snatched an hour’s sleep. At 3.30 we marched away
again, having rid the place of the enemy, and, getting back to
camp, were glad to turn in.”
A gunner of the Lancashire Fusiliers, who was injured by the
overturning of his gun, gave his experiences of fighting for
seventy-three hours in the neighbourhood of Mons. He spoke of the
surprise of some Germans who, while they were being shelled, suddenly
received a bayonet charge from a body of men the advance of whom they
had not observed as they had crept up under cover. The enemy quickly
retired, having lost about 250 men. The gunner expressed a poor opinion
of the Germans as shots, who “are frightened of the bayonet, and when
charged run faster than our men can pursue them,” but he praised their
artillery. Speaking of the strength of the Germans, he said there
were nine of them to every Englishman. As fast as they were killed,
others replaced them, but they succeeded in reducing their numbers. The
Fusiliers retired to Donicourt, and on ascending a hill the gunner was
so injured as to be unable to move; he was fortunately picked up by a
Frenchman, who conveyed him to the hospital at St. Quentin. The Germans
have a trick of disabling the wounded from using rifles again by
injuring their wrists, jamming them on the ground by the butts of their
weapons.
It is not an uncommon thing for men to get separated from their
regiments; it is often the fate of those who are reported missing or
lost. At Mons the enemy cut off some of the Somerset Light Infantry,
most of whom hid themselves until dark, and then throwing away their
rifles managed to crawl between the German pickets. They did not,
however, succeed in regaining their regiments, but made their way to
the homes of peasants, who supplied them with civilian clothes. They
had some narrow escapes from being arrested for German spies, as they
could speak no French, but eventually they reached Boulogne, where they
obtained a pass to England and were able to rejoin their depôt.
The following stories also illustrate the perils attending missing
troops and their endeavours to regain the British lines. The first,
from a letter of a non-commissioned officer of Dragoons, tells of the
adventures of himself and a companion who lost their regiment on the
Belgian frontier:—
We struck, after a very sharp and dangerous engagement, a tiny
village, where the priest was absolutely an angel, and gave
us—the four who got there—food, shelter, and clothing, and hid a
corporal and myself in an old belfry, and a couple of infantrymen,
wounded at Mons, in a secret crypt. Since then much has happened.
A veterinary officer and sergeant of Hussars, who had lost their
way and could not speak a word of French, happened to hit the
next village, and an old hawker managed to induce them by signs to
follow him to our lair.
“What was he to do?” asked the officer. “Had the Uhlans gone west
or east? Should they disguise and risk it, or face the certainty
of being made prisoners if caught in uniform?” We settled it by a
compromise, which has so far answered, for no Uhlans have appeared
to molest us on the road, though we saw on the skyline about thirty
trotting in the direction of ————. If they saw us through their
field-glasses we should only appear to them as market gardeners
or agricultural labourers, taking in a heavy load of potatoes,
turnips, and garden produce, and suitably attired.
All our kit and arms had been sent on in advance in a donkey-cart,
driven by an old woman, and in such a broken-down condition that
even a keen-eyed Prussian would not have detected the false bottom
we spent a day in making for the purpose of secreting Government
property. The old curé roared with laughter at the ingenuity of the
veterinary officer who designed the dodge and helped to make it.
The carrier’s wagon, in which we drove two horses, was now flanked
by two pack horses with saddlebags on each horse (we had four
altogether), stuffed with tomatoes and artichokes, on a French
country saddle. I rode one and the officer rode the other.
Peasants we met told us that all along the road ———— small parties
of strangers had been passing whom they thought must be soldiers,
but they were not dressed in uniform. So it seems clear that many
of our men have been cut off from their units and are moving
towards the coast.
Our first night after leaving ———— was at a village where there was
a delicious running stream, and we bathed to our hearts’ content in
a secluded bend away from the public gaze. The people were shy and
seemed alarmed, so the officer showed them a letter from our dear
old friend the priest, which served as an informal passport during
our journey.
The Uhlans had been there and paid for some food, cleared the
chairs away from the church and turned it into a stable, and
although the people had shown them every civility the Germans
threw manure into the holy water stoup, smashed the head of the
blessed Virgin statue, and wilfully disfigured the shrine of St.
Louis de France in whose honour a small chapel had been erected.
There were no houses damaged, and it is a curious fact that in
this particular instance the Uhlans had behaved as religious
maniacs of a peculiarly disgusting type, breaking the glass of the
church windows, tearing the lace altar frontal, breaking every
candlestick upon the altar, and using the vestments of the priest
for horse-rubbers.
The other account, like the first, communicated to the _Daily
Telegraph_, is from Lieutenant F. V. Drake, of the 11th Hussars,
and tells of his escape after the fighting at Mons. Speaking of the
retiring movement, he says:—
After six days I was left with thirty-six men to hold the Germans
back while the others got away; but we were surrounded by a brigade
of German cavalry. First of all we tried to get across country, and
were caught up in barbed wire, and they turned two machine guns on
us. They killed a lot of horses, but not many men. We then fought
our way on to the road which leads into the village of Honcourt.
The village was held by the Germans, and barricaded. We were being
shot at from behind and in front, and there was barbed wire on both
sides of the road.
We charged the barricade. My horse was shot about 200 yards before
I got to the barricade, and I was stunned a bit. When I got up
again I found all the other fellows swarming on the barricade. I
“joined in the hunt,” and eight others and I eventually got out of
the village on foot into a wood, where I divided the men into twos,
and told them the direction in which to go and left them, telling
each pair to hide in different parts of the wood.
We spent two days and two nights in that wood, with the Germans
absolutely round us: they were so near, in fact, that we could
hear every word they said. Leaving the wood by night, we pushed on
to where we heard the English were: at Cambrai; but when we got
there we found they had left the day before. We then hid in a wine
cellar, and the Germans came and burnt down the house above us. We,
however, escaped through a ventilator. We crawled out through the
kitchen garden and hid in some wheat sheaves for the rest of that
day, and at night we moved south, where we heard firing going on.
We averaged every night about twenty-five kilometres. We always
marched by compass, and always went absolutely plumb straight
across country. Each day we hid in hen-houses, outbuildings, or
wherever we could, and marched by night. We found the inhabitants
extremely nice. Wherever possible they gave us food—if the Germans
had not taken it all.
Later we secured a motor-car, and proceeded towards St. Pol, but
when we had proceeded about half-way we found a German sentry
outside a house. We raced past him, and he fired a shot or two,
but missed us, and we got safely through the village. Boulogne was
eventually reached without further adventure.
One of the most graphic descriptions of the five days’ fighting at
Mons is contained in a letter from a wounded Gordon Highlander. He
relates that on Sunday, August 23, his regiment rose at 4 a.m., and
marching out 1,100 strong took up ground on the extreme left flank of
the British force and made good trenches, which apparently was the
reason that they escaped with comparatively few casualties. “Later
in the day a hellish tornado of shell swept over us, and with this
introduction to war we received our baptism of fire. We were lining the
Mons road, and immediately in our front and to our rear were woods. In
the rear wood was stationed a battery of R.F.A.” The German artillery
he spoke of as wonderful, and most of those do who have had experience
of it. The first shot generally found them, as if the ranges had been
carefully taken beforehand. But the British gunners were better, and
they hammered and battered the Germans all the day long.
They were at least three to our one, and our artillery could not
be in fifty places at once, so we just had to stick it. The German
infantry are bad skirmishers and rotten shots, and they were simply
mowed down in batches by our chaps. They came in companies of, I
should say, 150 men in file five deep, and we simply rained bullets
at them the live-long day. At about five p.m. the Germans in the
left front of us retired, and we saw no more of them.
The Royal Irish Regiment had had an awful smashing earlier on,
as also had the Middlesex, and our company were ordered to go
along the road as reinforcements. The one and a half mile seemed
a thousand. Stormed at all the way, we kept on, and no one was
hit until we came to a white house which stood in a clearing.
Immediately the officer passed the gap hell was let loose on us,
but we got across safely, and I was the only one wounded, and that
was with a ricochet shrapnel bullet in the right knee.
I knew nothing about it until an hour after, when I had it pointed
out to me. I dug it out with a knife. We passed dead civilians,
some women, and a little boy with his thigh shattered by a
bullet. Poor wee fellow. He lay all the time on his face, and
some man of the Irish was looking after him, and trying to make
him comfortable. The devils shelled the hospital and killed the
wounded, despite a huge Red Cross flag flying over it.
When we got to the Royal Irish Regiment’s trenches the scene was
terrible. They were having dinner when the Germans opened on them,
and their dead and wounded were lying all around. Beyond a go
at some German cavalry, the day drew in, and darkness saw us on
the retreat. The regiment lost one officer and one man dead, one
officer and some men severely wounded.
We kept up this sort of game (fighting by day and retiring by
night) until we got to Cambrai, on Tuesday night. I dare not
mention that place and close my eyes. God, it was awful. Avalanche
followed avalanche of fresh German troops, but the boys stuck
to it, and we managed to retire to Ham without any molestation.
Cambrai was the biggest battle fought. Out of all the glorious
regiment of 1,100 men only five officers and 170 of the men
answered the roll-call next day. Thank God, I was one of them.
Of course, there may be a number who got separated from the
battalion through various causes, and some wounded who escaped.
I hope so, because of the heavy hearts at home. I saw the South
Lancs, and they were terribly cut up, only a remnant left of the
regiment.
Operations of the French troops at this date are described by the Paris
correspondent of the _Daily Telegraph_, who stated that:—
Incursions of the German cavalry forces had been made into the
district of Valenciennes, Lille, and Douai, in the North of
France, with the result that they got a bad reception and were cut
up. The raid was carried out by three separate columns, one of
which started in the direction of Lille, the second swept around
Valenciennes, and the third advanced in the direction of Cambrai.
The first column crossed the frontier line and headed for Lille,
but before it got to Lille it had a sharp encounter with the
French. The column fell back, and finally moved on towards Douai.
In its zigzag course it left a number of prisoners.
The second cavalry column, which was more important, crossed the
French frontier on Monday evening, August 24. Faithful to their
cruel practice, they compelled, under threat of instant shooting,
a number of women and children to walk in front of them. Towards
morning a battery of artillery, which had taken position and was
concealed in a wood, opened fire on the enemy and caused great
slaughter.
Eye-witnesses of the action relate that the column was entirely
broken up. The few survivors who escaped fled, but were captured.
The British made a stout resistance in their position against Maubeuge,
while the rest of the forces at Mons fell back. The pressure from the
Germans increased in severity. Not only were their numbers vastly
superior to ours, but they were said to comprise a body of their best
men, animated with a determination to crush our lines. In those places
where the strain was felt to be overpowering, especially on the left,
some further support was given by our cavalry, who did splendid service
in checking the enemy’s advance. When a battery of heavy German guns
was playing havoc with our trenches, and the force of our artillery was
beginning to lose effect, an order was given to the 9th Lancers to put
the enemy’s guns out of action, and under a terrific storm of shell
and shrapnel the order was carried out by a daring cavalry charge. The
French were still retiring, and it was now evident that the position
occupied by our troops was without sufficient advantage to enable them
to make a further stand against the foe with any prospect of success.
Dangerous as the operation was, Sir John French decided to retire, and
to meet the Germans in what proved to be a most deadly conflict.
Sir John French continues the story of his retirement, and deals with
the events of August 25, in the following section of his despatch:—
The French were still retiring, 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.
I had every reason to believe that the enemy’s forces were somewhat
exhausted, and I knew that they had suffered heavy losses. I hoped
therefore that his pursuit would not be too vigorous to prevent me
effecting my object.
The operation, however, was full of danger and difficulty, not
only owing to the very superior force in my front, but also to the
exhaustion of the troops.
The retirement was recommenced in the early morning of the 25th to
a position in the neighbourhood of Le Cateau, and rearguards were
ordered to be clear of the Maubeuge—Bavai—Eth Road by 5.30 a.m.
Two Cavalry Brigades, with the Divisional Cavalry of the Second
Corps, covered the movement of the Second Corps. The remainder of
the Cavalry Division with the 19th Brigade, the whole under the
command of General Allenby, covered the west flank.
The 4th Division commenced its detrainment at Le Cateau on Sunday,
the 23rd, and by the morning of the 25th eleven battalions and
a Brigade of Artillery with Divisional Staff were available for
service.
I ordered General Snow to move out to take up a position with his
right south of Solesmes, his left resting on the Cambrai—Le Cateau
Road south of La Chaprie. In this position the Division rendered
great help to the effective retirement of the Second and First
Corps to the new position.
Although the troops had been ordered to occupy the Cambrai—Le
Cateau—Landrecies position, and the ground had, during the 25th,
been partially prepared and entrenched, I had grave doubts—owing
to the information I received as to the accumulating strength of
the enemy against me—as to the wisdom of standing there to fight.
Having regard to the continued retirement of the French on my
right, my exposed left flank, the tendency of the enemy’s western
corps (II.) to envelop me, and, more than all, the exhausted
condition of the troops, I determined to make a great effort to
continue the retreat till I could put some substantial obstacle,
such as the Somme or the Oise, between my troops and the enemy,
and afford the former some opportunity of rest and reorganisation.
Orders were, therefore, sent to the Corps Commanders to continue
their retreat as soon as they possibly could towards the general
line Vermand—St. Quentin—Ribemont.
The Cavalry, under General Allenby, were ordered to cover the
retirement.
Throughout the 25th and far into the evening, the First Corps
continued its march on Landrecies, following the road along the
eastern border of the Forêt de Mormal, and arrived at Landrecies
about 10 o’clock. I had intended that the Corps should come further
west so as to fill up the gap between Le Cateau and Landrecies, but
the men were exhausted and could not get further in without rest.
The enemy, however, would not allow them this rest, and about
9.30 p.m. a report was received that the 4th Guards Brigade in
Landrecies was heavily attacked by troops of the 9th German Army
Corps who were coming through the forest on the north of the town.
This brigade fought most gallantly and caused the enemy to suffer
tremendous loss in issuing from the forest into the narrow streets
of the town. This loss has been estimated from reliable sources at
from 700 to 1,000. At the same time information reached me from Sir
Douglas Haig that his 1st Division was also heavily engaged south
and east of Maroilles. I sent urgent messages to the Commander of
the two French Reserve Divisions on my right to come up to the
assistance of the First Corps, which they eventually did. Partly
owing to this assistance, but mainly to the skilful manner in
which Sir Douglas Haig extricated his Corps from an exceptionally
difficult position in the darkness of the night, they were able at
dawn to resume their march south towards Wassigny on Guise.
By about 6 p.m. the Second Corps had got into position with their
right on Le Cateau, their left in the neighbourhood of Caudry,
and the line of defence was continued thence by the 4th Division
towards Seranvillers, the left being thrown back.
A _communiqué_ issued by the French War Office on September 1 explains
the forced retirement of the French from their position near Givet,
and the consequent withdrawal of our troops from Cateau and Cambrai
on August 25. The prompt action of the British troops at this very
critical stage undoubtedly saved the French from disaster:—
The Franco-British forces were originally engaged in the region of
Dinant, Charleroi, and Mons. Some partial checks were suffered, and
the forcing of the Meuse by the Germans near Givet on our flank
obliged our troops to fall back, the Germans all the time trying to
approach by the west.
In these circumstances our British Allies, attacked by superior
numbers in Cateau and Cambrai, had to retire towards the south
when we were operating in the region of Avesnes and Chimay. The
retreating movement continued during the following days, although a
general battle took place during its progress. This engagement was
notable for an important success on our right, where we threw back
the Prussian Guard and the Tenth Corps on to the Oise.
As a set-off to this, and because of the progress of the right
German wing, where our adversaries concentrated the finest army
corps, we had to record a new withdrawing movement.
To sum up, on our right, after partial checks, we had taken the
offensive, and the enemy was retreating before us. In the centre
we had alternative successes and checks, but a general battle was
again in progress. The _moral_ of the Allies’ troops continued to
be extremely good in spite of their losses, which were made good
from the depôts.
We will now quote again from the narrative of the Rev. Owen Spencer
Watkins, whose courage was worthy of the army to which he was attached.
He had a narrow escape of being taken prisoner. After leaving Villars
Sal he learnt from a motor-cyclist who passed them that the Germans had
entered on one side of the village as they went out of the other. At
Villersan they halted.
Horses and men (he said), transport and guns, an endless procession
they passed, blackened with grime, bearing evident signs of the
past few days of fighting. And behind were the infantry still
fighting a rearguard action. But the men were in good spirits; they
were retreating, but this was not a defeated army.... The town of
Cambrai was now in sight, and we were told that just beyond it, at
a place called Le Cateau, was a position we could hold, and here
we should entrench and make a stand.... Once I passed through a
division of French Cavalry, who greeted me most courteously, and
were very curious to know exactly what my duties with the Army
were. A great contrast they presented to our khaki-clad troops in
their blue and red and gold, but it struck me that such finery was
hardly likely to be so serviceable as our more sombre khaki.
On the morning of Wednesday, August 26, after four hours’ sleep
in the rain, I was awakened by the sound of heavy guns, and rose
from my bed of straw to realise that the battle of Le Cateau had
begun. As I had slept booted and spurred, no time was wasted in
toilet, and I was able at once to ride off to the scene of action,
whilst the ambulance wagons and stretcher-bearers were making ready
to do likewise. I visited the infantry lining their trenches, but
they had not yet come into action. As I talked with them I little
thought how many hundreds of these lads of the 14th Infantry
Brigade (Manchesters, Suffolks, Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry,
and East Surreys) would be lying low before the end of day. Later
I was for a while with the 108th Heavy Battery, whose guns were
masked with corn-sheaves to hide them from the German aeroplane,
and who even, whilst I was with them, did terrible execution. The
great 60-pounder shells were burst with wonderful precision and
deadly effect, and before the day was over this battery alone had
completely exterminated two batteries of German artillery. My next
move was to the 15th Brigade Royal Field Artillery, which had just
come into action. The story of these batteries is one of the most
moving and heroic in the war, and perhaps some day it will be fully
told. The losses amongst both men and horses were appalling, yet
still they worked their guns. In one battery only a junior officer
and one man was left, but between them they still contrived to keep
the gun in action.
Now the battle was in full swing, the noise was deafening; the
whole can only be realised by one who has himself passed through a
similar experience—I cannot describe it.
... The casualties were pouring in upon us now, and the worst
cases still lay in the trenches, from which they could not be
moved until the fire slackened, or darkness came. The injured men
told of brave and dogged fighting in the trenches, of an opposing
host that seemed without number, of casualties so numerous that
they seemed to us an exaggeration, and later of trenches that were
being enfiladed by German shrapnel. Evidently the French, who, we
understood, were on our flank, had been late in arriving, or else
they had retreated, leaving our flank exposed. By this time other
batteries were taking up their positions in our vicinity, and it
soon became evident that the position was becoming impossible for
a dressing station. But how to move? that was the question; for
we had far more wounded than it was possible to carry in our
ambulance wagons. So we sorted out all who were able to hop, or
walk, or be helped along by comrades, and they were told that they
must walk to Busigny as best they could. Meanwhile the operating
tents were being pulled down and packed upon the wagons, and as the
last were being loaded shell was bursting over our camp. To me was
delegated the task of shepherding the wounded who were walking, and
seeing them safe to Busigny railway station, where it was hoped
they would get a train to take them down country. I never want
such a task again. Up and down that road I galloped, urging one
poor fellow to hop faster, expostulating with another who, seated
by the roadside, declared he could go no further, and that to fall
into the hands of the Germans would be no worse than the agony he
endured as he walked. At last I came across a farmer’s cart, and
taking the law into my own hands, commandeered it, and made the man
come back with me and pick up all who could walk no more. Time and
again there would be a burst of shrapnel in the road, but as far as
I could see nobody was injured. Just off the road the cavalry were
at work doing their best to guard our flank as we retreated—for
now I learned we were in full retreat—and amongst them the
casualties were heavy. Such as we could reach we carried with us.
At last, to my infinite relief, Busigny was reached, and I was
relieved of my charge.
At Le Cateau the 5th Division lost probably more heavily than any
other portion of the British Forces. It was entirely due to the
splendid generalship of Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien that we had not to
record a great disaster; ever since then we had been in retreat,
but it was not a beaten or even a seriously discouraged army.
Fighting on this day is described by some who were present at the
battle. The following related to the Royal Dublin Fusiliers:—
Captain Trigona said that on August 26 the main body of the Allies
was in the district of Mons, and in the direction of Cambrai his
battalion formed a portion of the rearguard, and were continually
being harassed by the enemy. An order, which they should have
received to retire, miscarried. This, in his opinion, was due to
despatch riders falling into the hands of the enemy.
The regiment was left unsupported, and an overwhelming body of the
enemy attacking them, they were obliged to retreat. The Germans
moved forward in dark, thick masses, and the British rifle did
terrible havoc among their closely-packed ranks. The enemy’s ranks
in places were blotted out by the withering leaden blast which the
Fusiliers kept up with that dogged determination which has won
for the regiment in past wars many golden laurels. The German loss
was much greater than ours. This is accounted for by the close
formation adopted by the latter.
At one time the regiment had fallen back on a large farmhouse, but
a number of shells from the German artillery quickly reduced the
building to a heap of _débris_, and they were forced to evacuate
the farm. During the succeeding night Captain Trigona and a small
body of men got separated from the other portion of the troops.
When daylight broke they found themselves wandering in a country
swarming with the enemy’s cavalry. They were completely cut off
from the Allies’ forces, but succeeded in reaching a French
village without being molested by the Germans. They were received
with every kindness by the villagers. Food was supplied to the
well-nigh famished men, and welcome rest was obtained in barns and
farmhouses. After eight days’ travelling by night and hiding by day
they reached Boulogne.
Another officer, in the Irish Guards, wrote a vivid account of the
Titanic struggle in the neighbourhood of Cambrai:—
We had a very bad night on Tuesday, August 25, he said, when our
billets were attacked by the Germans, and a situation arose which
at one time looked very serious for our brigade. However, we held
our own, and simply mowed the Germans down. The doctors counted
over 2,000 of their dead outside the town next morning when they
were collecting our wounded.
I must say now none of us expected to get away. I, with about
thirty men, was given a house to defend which commanded two main
streets, and we worked away at it from about 10 p.m. until about
1.30 a.m., when we were called out to join the battalion who were
going out to attack the Germans with the bayonet. But when we got
to the other side of the town we found they had had enough of it,
and gone.
I think I shall never forget that night as long as I live. We all
had wonderful escapes, with shrapnel shell bursting continuously,
high explosive shells, also; houses burning and falling down from
the shell fire; the intermittent rifle fire, with every now and
then furious bursts of fire when the Germans attacked.
Our biggest fight so far took place at Landrecies. The Germans
attacked us in the town furiously. They brought their guns to
within fifty yards of us in the dark on the road, and opened
point-blank fire. Our gunners brought up a gun by hand, as no horse
could have lived, and knocked at least one of the German guns out
first shot. This all at about sixty yards.
Notwithstanding the fury of the engagement, the enemy found
opportunities to outrage the non-combatants for their own ends. A
private in the King’s Own Scottish Borderers related that between
Mons and Cambrai he had his glengarry torn to shreds with shrapnel.
Before he was hit he saw from 600 yards’ range Belgian women tied
to the German guns, and this prevented the Coldstream Guards
returning the German fire as they retreated in the neighbourhood of
Cambrai.
The following is the description of another eye-witness:—
It was on August 26 that we suffered most. Our little lot was
waiting for the Germans in a turnip field. We were lying down,
and on they came. We let fly, and numbers of them went down. They
cracked at us then with their machine guns, and did us a good deal
of damage. We were obliged to retire, but there was an off-and-on
fight for at least twelve hours. We would get cover and have a
smack at ’em, and with their great numbers and our good shooting we
did tumble them over. But, my goodness, the numbers did keep coming
on, and we had to go back. Our fellows were falling here and there,
principally as results of their machine guns, which were doing
nearly all the damage. We did not worry a lot about their rifle
fire, which was faulty; but we got them every time.
It was the time that we were having a great slap at a bunch of
them that we were really tried. We advanced, and pushed them back,
but we were outnumbered again. We fell back, and a crush of us
got separated from the rest. There were about sixteen of us, and
we found ourselves beyond the German lines. In the morning it was
“cut and run for it,” for everywhere there were Germans about. We
got to a village and hid, the French people taking every care of
us. We concealed our arms, and changed our khaki uniforms for any
clothes that we could get. In the day-time we hid in barns, under
haystacks, or in the homes of French villagers, who were most kind
to us.
At Landrecies the Coldstream Guards put up a heroic defence, said a
correspondent to the _Daily Telegraph_, when suddenly attacked by the
Germans.
Dealing with the operations which led up to the skirmish (the Guard
says), owing to the enemy being five or six times our superior in
numbers, and attacking from all quarters fiercely, Sir Douglas Haig
had to keep his men on the march almost night and day. We had a
rough time of it. Our boys were as lively as crickets, but under
fire as cool as you could wish. It was getting dark when we found
out that the Kaiser’s crush were coming through a forest, and we
soon found out their game.
It was to cut off our force, who were retiring on to Le Cateau
covered by our cavalry. We had not long to wait before they swarmed
out of the forest and entered the small town from different
directions. But we got them everywhere and stopped them, not a man
getting through.
About 200 of us drove them down a street, and didn’t the devils
squeal when at close quarters. They fell in their scores, and we
jumped over them to get at the others. At the corner of the street
which led to the principal thoroughfare we came upon a mass of
them. At this point we were reinforced from two directions. We were
pressed for a time, but they soon lost heart, and we actually had
to climb over their dead and wounded, which were heaped up, to get
at the others. Then we had to race away to another point where they
were hurling their masses at us. Those who did not get back to the
forest were knocked over.
It looked at one time as if they would get round us, but they got
a surprise packet, for we cleared the town and drove them back. I
don’t know how many we accounted for, but I saw quite 150 heaped
together in one street.
We had to continue our retreat, and had little rest until we got to
Compiègne on September 1. Here the brigade had a shaking up. It was
the Germans’ last desperate attempt to get through.
What really happened I hardly know. Never before did the Guards
fight as they did that day. We are having reinforcements, and we
shall then have a chance of getting our own back, for when pressed
they will not stand up to us.
On August 29 Mr. Asquith in the House of Commons announced a wonderful
feat of arms by the British army. It was with reference to the
engagement in the neighbourhood of Cambrai—Le Cateau on Wednesday,
August 26, which Sir John French described as “the most critical day
of all.” There must have been at the lowest computation 300,000 German
troops (five German Army Corps, two Cavalry Divisions, and a reserve
corps, with the Guard Cavalry and the 2nd Cavalry Division) opposed
to two British Army Corps and a Division. The total strength of our
forces cannot have exceeded 100,000 men. In other words, the odds were
three to one, and were probably much heavier. Our 2nd Army Corps and
4th Division bore the brunt of the cavalry attack, whilst our 1st Army
Corps was attacked on the right and inflicted very heavy loss on the
enemy. Our casualties were also heavy. General Joffre, in a message
published that morning, had conveyed his congratulations and thanks for
the protection so effectively given by our Army to the French flank.
CHAPTER V
SIR JOHN FRENCH ON THE OPERATIONS OF THE BRITISH ARMY TO AUGUST 28—
LORD KITCHENER ON THE FOUR DAYS’ BATTLE—FIGHTING IN THE VALLEY
OF THE MEUSE—CHARLEVILLE.
The following extract from Sir John French’s first despatch brings
it to a conclusion as far as the operations of the British army are
concerned:—
During the fighting on the 24th and 25th the Cavalry became a
good deal scattered, but by the early morning of the 26th General
Allenby had succeeded in concentrating two brigades to the south of
Cambrai.
The 4th Division was placed under the orders of the General Officer
commanding the Second Army Corps.
On the 24th the French Cavalry Corps, consisting of three
divisions, under General Sordêt, had been in billets north of
Avesnes. On my way back from Bavai, which was my “Poste de
Commandement” during the fighting of the 23rd and 24th, I visited
General Sordêt, and earnestly requested his co-operation and
support. He promised to obtain sanction from his Army Commander
to act on my left flank, but said that his horses were too tired
to move before the next day. Although he rendered me valuable
assistance later on in the course of the retirement, he was unable
for the reasons given to afford me any support on the most critical
day of all, viz., the 26th.
At daybreak it became apparent that the enemy was throwing the bulk
of his strength against the left of the position occupied by the
Second Corps and the 4th Division.
At this time the guns of four German Army Corps were in position
against them, and Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien reported to me that he
judged it impossible to continue his retirement at daybreak (as
ordered) in face of such an attack.
I sent him orders to use his utmost endeavours to break off the
action and retire at the earliest possible moment, as it was
impossible for me to send him any support, the First Corps being at
the moment incapable of movement.
The French Cavalry Corps, under General Sordêt, was coming up on
our left rear early in the morning, and I sent an urgent message to
him to do his utmost to come up and support the retirement of my
left flank; but owing to the fatigue of his horses he found himself
unable to intervene in any way.
There had been no time to entrench the position properly, but
the troops showed a magnificent front to the terrible fire which
confronted them.
The Artillery, although outmatched by at least four to one, made a
splendid fight and inflicted heavy losses on their opponents.
At length it became apparent that, if complete annihilation was to
be avoided, a retirement must be attempted; and the order was given
to commence it about 3.30 p.m. The movement was covered with the
most devoted intrepidity and determination by the Artillery, which
had itself suffered heavily, and the fine work done by the Cavalry
in the further retreat from the position assisted materially in the
final completion of this most difficult and dangerous operation.
Fortunately the enemy had himself suffered too heavily to engage in
an energetic pursuit.
I cannot close the brief account of this glorious stand of the
British troops without putting on record my deep appreciation of
the valuable services rendered by General Sir Horace 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 operation.
The retreat was continued far into the night of the 26th and
through the 27th and 28th, on which date the troops halted on the
line Noyon—Chauny—La Fère, having then thrown off the weight of
the enemy’s pursuit.
On the 27th and 28th I was much indebted to General Sordêt and the
French Cavalry Division which he commands for materially assisting
my retirement and successfully driving back some of the enemy on
Cambrai.
General d’Amade also, with the 61st and 62nd French Reserve
Divisions, moved down from the neighbourhood of Arras on the
enemy’s right flank and took much pressure off the rear of the
British Forces.
This closes the period covering the heavy fighting which commenced
at Mons on Sunday afternoon, 23rd August, and which really
constituted a four days’ battle.
At this point, therefore, I propose to close the present despatch.
Lord Kitchener pointed out in his first speech to the House of Lords,
on August 25, while the battle was still waging, that European fighting
causes greater casualties than the campaigns to which we are accustomed
in other parts of the world, but in spite of hard marching the British
Force was in the best of spirits. The casualties to the British troops
were very heavy, but the losses inflicted on the Germans, who were
always on the offensive, were enormous.
The battle was beyond all comparison the greatest in which our troops
had been engaged; although it is not to be compared in point of
duration with the tremendous conflict on the Aisne. No officer or man
now with the colours had ever known the sort of warfare as that which
was waged on the Belgian and French frontiers.
Correspondents found it difficult to obtain from the French
descriptions of the recent hard fighting, and Mr. W. T. Massey, of
the _Daily Telegraph_ staff, wrote that great care was exercised that
wounded should not meet and discuss the situation with civilians. Here
and there one finds, he said, a non-commissioned officer or private
who has been in the fighting line, but they tell you they really know
little of what is going on. A Hussar he talked to said he had not
been in any serious fighting, but he regarded the “charge” as the
principal _rôle_ of cavalry, because he admitted that he was frequently
within rifle shot of the enemy and had been under fire six times for
considerable periods.
The cavalry, the Hussar said, had kept the Germans in a state of great
activity, for directly a cavalry brigade was on the move the enemy
seemed instantly to prepare for battle. Over and over again our cavalry
would change direction and halt to dig trenches which were never meant
to be occupied. The Germans did the same, and tired infantry were
continually kept on the move. This Hussar described the German field
uniform as very difficult to pick up at long ranges, even with field
glasses. The French uniform was a much easier target, and khaki did not
blend very well with the green of the French landscape.
He had a long talk with a civilian who had been in close touch with one
French army corps during the battles in the valley of the Meuse. All
through, he was told, it had been a case of fighting against odds, but
often bravery and dash overbore superior numbers and caused the German
advance to be stayed while a pushed-back line was being strengthened.
For instance, at Marville, a French force of 5,000 men of all arms
of the 2nd Army Corps not merely stemmed the strong German tide, but
rolled back a force of 20,000 men from point to point continuously for
twelve hours, and it was not until there was a risk of the French
losing touch with their supports that they retired.
All down the Meuse the French destroyed the bridges; this informant
said thirty-three bridges had been blown up, and he was given a vivid
picture of one of the scenes which followed the destruction of the
means of crossing the river. This was at Charleville, an important
position on the Meuse, quite close to the fortified town of Mézières,
and within a field gun’s call from Sedan. Here the French tactics of
Sedan were reversed. The _trou_ of Sedan is engraven on the memory of
every French soldier, and the danger of being caught in a hollow is
ever present to officers. The Germans, bound up by military history,
and confident that what happened in 1870 would occur again, fell into a
trap which cost them dear.
Last Tuesday (August 25), he said, the French decided to evacuate
Charleville, and sent round to the inhabitants to clear out. Trains
took away many civilians, but a number had to travel on foot, and
the roads in the early morning were covered with a long line of
stragglers toiling under the burden of the few household treasures
they had saved from the threatened destruction.
As the civil population left, a small party of French riflemen
marched into the town to play a part worthy of the traditions of
their army. I did not realise until the action developed that their
duty involved enormous risk and that it was almost in the nature
of a forlorn hope. They were sent to occupy a few houses which
controlled the roads through the town, and though these houses were
marked out to the French artillery when the guns began to bark,
the lives of the members of this party were always in danger. If
any survive they will have earned any decoration for bravery, for
their ambush assisted in the complete destruction of a considerable
German force of cavalry and infantry.
Around Charleville is a semi-circular sweep of hills. On these
the French artillery was posted, the guns being dug in and hidden
from the eyes of German scouts. The Germans were seen coming over
the three bridges leading into the town. They were not opposed for
a long time, and their numbers grew rapidly. Suddenly the three
bridges were blown up, and the retreat was cut off. The destruction
of the bridges was the signal to the guns on the high ground to
begin, while the riflemen in ambush poured a terrible fire into
an enemy who had a moment before believed they were occupying a
deserted town. They were also raked by an awful fire from half a
dozen batteries.
Into all parts of the town, save in the particular quarter in
which the gallant French riflemen were doing their country’s work,
there was a tornado of bursting shells, houses falling into the
streets, and clouds of dust rising from the shrapnel bullets as
they rained in a pitiless mass upon broken plaster and bricks. In a
few minutes—ten minutes, I should say—the town was destroyed, and
the whole German force must have been annihilated. I can imagine
how completely the Germans were taken by surprise. Directly they
got across the bridges they must have thought they had, indeed, got
a prize. Charleville had been made the depôt for captured German
cannon, and in the gun park there were, I am told, ninety-five
field guns taken at God knows what sacrifice by the Allies. I saw
the guns, but though I cannot vouch for the number, I can say there
were very many. Twelve had been added just before the town was
evacuated.
Of course, the breech blocks and mechanism had been so burred
and damaged that the guns, as they stood, were useless, but the
recovery of even useless weapons would give encouragement to an
enemy, and, no doubt, many German soldiers were contemplating their
restoration to their army when the bursting shells cried out, “Not
yet.” That scene, so triumphant for French arms, was awful, and I
went away before the remnant of the riflemen was collected from the
ruined town—that is, if there were any survivors; I devoutly pray
there were many—and Charleville and the gun park were left for
other German eyes to look upon as an example of what war is.
I asked my informant, who expressed a wish that I would say nothing
to give a clue to identification, whether he had seen any German
prisoners. He replied, “Yes, a large number. They complain that
the transport line is mainly occupied with war material, and that
the food supply is neglected. All the enemy’s soldiers, they
say, are hungry, and some of the men in the firing-lines have
been without food for two days. On the other hand, the French
soldiers—I have not been with British troops, but have seen their
commissariat columns proceeding regularly and quickly backwards and
forwards—have always plenty.”
As the road from Abbeville to Amiens approaches the latter picturesque
town, it runs for a considerable distance alongside the railway. Mr.
Massey was in the district on Friday afternoon, August 28, and when in
the neighbourhood of Picquigny he found the railroad congested and the
highway almost full of people proceeding south. Here and there, hidden
in hedgerows, were files of French territorial infantry, and dotted
over the countryside to the north sentries were vigilant. An officer
stated that the latest report which had come in warned him that a Uhlan
patrol was less than six kilometres away, and the presence of the enemy
so far south suggested that a bold attempt was being made to cut the
railway and destroy the utility of Boulogne as a base. The Germans
probably did not know that at this time the British had ceased to
employ Boulogne as a port for the disembarkation of men and stores, and
that no British troops remained at Boulogne.
The last train that was running out of Boulogne for Amiens was before
him, and he knew that little rolling-stock remained at the port. The
service both ways had been cut off, but the Boulogne-Folkestone boats
were running. While he watched a fast train ran by towards the coast,
and succeeding it came four big engines coupled together. Presently one
of them returned with two trucks, holding eighty French soldiers, who
were deposited on the line, half of them guarding the passenger train
and the remainder reinforcing the guards on the line of communications.
By and by word was passed along to keep the road clear for troops, and
carts pulled on to one side. In a few minutes some khaki-clad soldiers
swung round a bend. Their gait showed they were not Britishers, and
the kepi or fez indicated their origin.
They were two companies of French Algerian troops, the “Turcos,”
as they are called. They advanced rapidly, shuffling along rather
than marching, carrying their equipment easily. With them were three
ammunition mules, entrenching tools carried in a mule pack, and two
light carts. Officers showed their delight at the prospect of getting
into touch with the enemy by waving their hands at cheering people,
while the rank and file raised their arms, palm of the hand uppermost,
and acknowledged the salutations by opening and closing the hand. They
were a happy party, and they brushed past the villagers and quickened
their pace to get to the point assigned to them.
The villagers were satisfied that the coloured troops would stand till
the last man, but there were many of their compatriots moving forward
with their families to places more secure. Generally these fugitives
were of the farming class, and each of the long, low farm wagons was a
tale of tragedy of the war. Weary horses hauled vehicles piled up with
household goods. The drivers were mere lads or old men, whose years
unfitted them for military service, and packages of all sorts, and
perambulators in some cases, occupied one-half of the space, and women
and children, seated on hay and straw, the remainder. Nobody seemed
to speak; abandoned homes and the fear that all was not well with the
army in which their menfolk were serving made them dumb. But if there
was panic, nobody showed it, for all met the situation with stolid
countenances and were apparently ready to accept what the fates decreed.
Passengers on the train were more alarmed. They, too, had heard that
German cavalry were near, and they chafed at the vexatious stoppages
every couple of hundred yards. But every move forward was nearer
safety, and all seemed pleased that French infantry marched by the
side of the train. A progress of a mile an hour for the last three
miles satisfied nobody, and when Amiens was reached the summons given
to passengers for Paris to change caused some concern. The lines were
mainly occupied by troop trains, as they had been for eighteen hours.
The French wastage of war has been more than made good in this region.
You meet refugees by the thousand, and a man with a heart of flint
would be sorry for them. On every grim visage is written the stern
realities of war. Infinite suffering, aye, and splendid courage and
patriotism, is lined on every face, and you feel when they pass you by
that heroism is shared almost in an equal degree by most civilians and
fighting men.
Old Frenchmen, who have left behind them the fortunes they have built;
children, who were learning to hope they would follow in worthy
footsteps; dames who had earned repose by reason of arduous and
thrifty years of activity, and younger women who gloried in husbands’
commercial enterprise and success, passed you, not broken people, but
a crowd who will have to begin life anew when the scourge of war has
ceased scarring the land.
Of all the people moving in advance of the brutal German line, one’s
sympathies must go out to the women. “It has been my good fortune
(continues Mr. Massey)—for though it was a sight which made one feel
the terrible penalties inflicted by war, it brought out vividly the
nobler side of humanity—to be very near the fighting line in the
past two days, and I have watched many a case of women’s heroism. It
was not the self-denial of Red Cross nurses that impressed me most.
To that one is accustomed. But the long procession of weary women,
cheerfully encouraging children, hungry and tired and footsore, or with
bones aching from the jolting of farm carts, was a picture of splendid
courage, which made you understand how a nation becomes resolute in
face of war. The women play their part silently and without complaint.
Of the thousands of big-hearted women I have seen during the past
sixteen days in France, I need only refer to one. She is an example
of the patriotic Frenchwoman of to-day. I met her at a town which was
evacuated, and she was proceeding with a splendid son of France, aged
ten, and a delightfully talkative little girl of eight, to a place
where her children would be safe from the oppression of an enemy.
This cultured lady is the wife of a captain of cavalry who is doing
a patriot’s work. As she looked back at her home at Longwy she saw
a lifetime’s treasures burnt, but the sadness of her heart was not
betrayed to her children. To them she merely indicated that a gallant
father’s regiment would see to it that they returned home soon.
Horses and vehicles were required for the country’s service, so the
mother and children walked through French lines to where they thought
they would be safe. They proceeded west, and went through Marville
(where “Daddy” was fighting), on to Charleville. Here they rested
and waited, not dreaming that a weakened left wing would cause the
whole French line to retire and force a re-assembling on positions
further south. But strategy is left to men in France, and when word
was sent round that the inhabitants of Charleville should leave their
dwellings, the cavalry officer’s wife and children gave up seats in the
last south-bound train to old people and trudged over rolling ground
for thirty kilometres before they reached a railway line which still
provided a train for civilians.
When I saw this family the mother had not tasted food for three days,
and the children did not want to eat while the mother starved. The
bright eyes of the boy were not dimmed by the exhaustion of bearing his
part in carrying a bag too heavy for his immature shoulders, and it was
glorious to see the comfort he was to his mother.
You got a true insight into French patriotism when, instead of hearing
complaints of hardships, you were questioned as to the latest news
from the battle-line. And if you knew less than mother and boy you
forgave the look of pity which followed your answer. You, they thought,
should be where the British soldiers were. And this small family,
which I watched for eight hours during a dreary progress away from a
sternly-fought area, was but a type of thousands of others. Truly war
brings out the best, as well as the worst, of humanity.“
CHAPTER VI
THE FRENCH ARMY ON THE OISE—SIR JOHN FRENCH ON THE OPERATIONS OF
THE BRITISH TROOPS ON AUGUST 28—THE FIGHT AT ST. QUENTIN—
A SHARP ACTION AT COMPIÈGNE—AT CHANTILLY—ENGLISH SOLDIERS
SHOPPING—A QUIET DAY—BRITISH LOSSES AND RESOURCES—THE
ENEMY AT SENLIS—THE END OF THE RETREAT—A VIEW OF A GREAT
MILITARY FEAT—SIR JOHN FRENCH’S DESPATCH.
The Press Bureau supplied, on September 7, a survey of the activities
of the British Expeditionary Army which has, it stated, conformed to
the general movement of the French forces and acted in harmony with the
strategic conceptions of the French General Staff.
After the battle at Cambrai, on August 26, where the British troops
successfully guarded the left flank of the whole line of French armies
from a deadly turning attack, supported by enormous force, the 7th
French Army came into operation on our left, and, in conjunction with
the 5th Army on our right, this greatly relieved our men from the
strain and pressure.
The 5th French Army, in particular, on August 29 advanced from the
line of the Oise River to meet and counter the German forward movement,
and a considerable battle developed to the south of Guise.
In this, the 5th French Army gained a marked and solid success, driving
back with heavy loss and in disorder three German Army Corps, the 10th,
the Guard, and a reserve corps.
It is believed that the commander of the 10th German Corps was among
those killed.
In spite of this success, however, and all the benefits which flowed
from it, the general retirement to the south continued, and the German
armies, seeking persistently after the British troops, remained in
practically continuous contact with our rearguards.
Sir John French’s despatch of September 17 describes the operations of
the British Forces on August 28 and 29:—
On that evening, he says, the retirement of the Force was followed
closely by two of the enemy’s cavalry columns, moving south-east
from St. Quentin.
The retreat in this part of the field was being covered by the 3rd
and 5th Cavalry Brigades. South of the Somme General Gough, with
the 3rd Cavalry Brigade, threw back the Uhlans of the Guard with
considerable loss.
General Chetwode, with the 5th Cavalry Brigade, encountered the
eastern column near Cérizy, moving south. The Brigade attacked
and routed the column, the leading German regiment suffering very
severe casualties and being almost broken up.
The 7th French Army Corps was now in course of being railed up from
the south to the east of Amiens. On the 29th it nearly completed
its detrainment, and the French 6th Army got into position on my
left, its right resting on Roye.
The 5th French Army was behind the line of the Oise, between La
Fère and Guise.
The pursuit of the enemy was very vigorous; some five or six German
corps were on the Somme, facing the 5th Army on the Oise. At least
two corps were advancing towards my front, and were crossing the
Somme east and west of Ham. Three or four more German corps were
opposing the 6th French Army on my left.
This was the situation at 1 o’clock on the 29th, when I received a
visit from General Joffre at my headquarters.
I strongly represented my position to the French
Commander-in-Chief, who was most kind, cordial, and sympathetic,
as he has always been. He told me that he had directed the 5th
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 6th French Army on my left flank, composed of
the 7th Army Corps, four Reserve Divisions, and Sordêt’s Corps of
Cavalry.
I finally arranged with General Joffre to effect a further short
retirement towards the line Compiègne—Soissons, promising him,
however, to do my utmost to keep always within a day’s march of him.
In pursuance of this arrangement the British Forces retired to a
position a few miles north of the line Compiègne—Soissons on the
29th.
The right flank of the German Army was now reaching a point which
appeared seriously to endanger my line of communications with
Havre. I had already evacuated Amiens, into which place a German
reserve division was reported to have moved.
Orders were given to change the base to St. Nazaire, and establish
an advance base at Le Mans. This operation was well carried out by
the Inspector-General of Communications.
In spite of a severe defeat inflicted upon the Guard 10th and Guard
Reserve Corps of the German Army by the 1st and 3rd French Corps on
the right of the 5th Army, it was not part of General Joffre’s plan
to pursue this advantage; and a general retirement on to the line
of the Marne was ordered, to which the French Forces in the more
eastern theatre were directed to conform.
A new Army (the 9th) had been formed from three corps in the south
by General Joffre, and moved into the space between the right of
the 5th and left of the 4th Armies.
Whilst closely adhering to his strategic conception to draw the
enemy on at all points until a favourable situation was created
from which to assume the offensive, General Joffre found it
necessary to modify from day to day the methods by which he sought
to attain this object, owing to the development of the enemy’s
plans and changes in the general situation.
In conformity with the movements of the French Forces, my
retirement continued practically from day to day. Although we were
not severely pressed by the enemy, rearguard actions took place
continually.
On August 30 and 31, the British covering and delaying troops were
frequently engaged. In the districts of St. Quentin—Verdun and
Ham—Péronne a battle was fought lasting some days. The special
correspondent to the _Daily Telegraph_ wrote:—
St. Quentin, the scene of the British fight on Sunday, August
30, was ready for evacuation a couple of days previously. On the
British right the French force, under the gallant General Pau,
scored a distinct success. On Sunday and Monday the Germans were
hotly pressed near Guise, and the French, once getting the upper
hand, hammered away at the enemy, and completely demoralised them.
One German army corps was completely broken and thrown into the
Oise, and, being cut off on both sides from their supports, lost
fearfully, a remnant withdrawing and leaving enormous numbers of
dead, wounded, and prisoners in the valley.
A captain of a French infantry regiment reached the Gare du Nord
yesterday, with his left leg shattered by a shell; but the severity
of his wound did not prevent him describing the battle of Guise as
he saw it. “The Germans who engaged us were,” he said, “the _élite_
of their army—the 10th Corps and the Imperial Guard—but our
troops gave proof of their extreme bravery and of their marvellous
dash. They received heroically the German thrust, and very soon
took a vigorous offensive, which was crowned with success. The
German masses were forced to bend back, and their losses were
enormous. I am certain of that. When I fell, the German retreat
increased, and our offensive movement claimed victory. But on our
left the line was bent back to La Fère, and the offensive could not
therefore be persisted in.”
The correspondent to the _Daily Telegraph_ stated that at St. Quentin,
when he retired from Landrecies, General French established himself
temporarily in the Lycée Henri-Martin, named after the most patriotic
historian of France. The English artillery covered the heights that
command the town. It was a repetition of the battle of Saint Quentin
of 1870, with this difference—that the enemy approached the town
from another direction. For the space of ten days or so fierce and
uninterrupted fighting took place between Saint Quentin, Péronne, and
Vervins. A French artillery regiment was at a place called Catelet,
between Cambrai and Saint Quentin. However, the German column, in spite
of these attacks on both its flanks, one of which was driven back on to
Guise a week ago, continued to force its way towards the Oise valley,
and General French moved his headquarters first to Noyon, and then to
Clermont.
The English troops were then deployed all the way between Clermont and
Soissons.
On Monday, August 31, the Allies’ left was brought round and
southwards, their headquarters being at Aumale, where General d’Amade,
the hero of the French Morocco campaign, was with his staff.
A very vigorous effort was made by the Germans on September 1, which
brought about a sharp action in the neighbourhood of Compiègne. The
action was fought principally by the 1st British Cavalry Brigade and
the 4th Guards Brigade, with a body of German cavalry, preceded by a
light scouting column in the forest of Compiègne, and was entirely
satisfactory to the British. The German attack, which was most
strongly pressed, was not brought to a standstill until much slaughter
had been inflicted upon them, and until ten German guns had been
captured. The brunt of this creditable affair fell upon our Guards
Brigade, who lost in killed and wounded about 300 men.
Another corps of German cavalry advancing on the opposite flank of the
column pushed its line to the railway station at Anizy-le-Château,
between Laon and Soissons. The enemy, however, found that the railway
line had been rendered useless.
* * * * *
We venture to quote the fine account of fighting at Compiègne which was
given by a wounded Guardsman in the _Evening News_. In this action ten
of the enemy’s guns were captured.
“We were in a field when the Germans dropped on us all of a sudden.
The first hint we had of their presence was when a battery of guns
on the right sang out, dropping shells into a mob of us who were
waiting for our turn at the wash tub—the river.
“There was no panic as far as I saw, only some of our fellows who
hadn’t had a wash for a long time said strong things about the
Germans for spoiling the best chance we had had for four days.
“We all ran to our posts in response to bugles which ran out all
along the line, and by the time we all stood to arms the German
cavalry came into view in great strength all along the left front.
“As soon as they came within range we poured a deadly volley into
them, emptying saddles right and left, and they scattered in all
directions. Meanwhile their artillery kept working up closer on
the front and the right, and a dark cloud of infantry showed out
against the sky-line on our front, advancing in a formation rather
loose for the Germans.
“We opened on them, and they made a fine target for our rifle fire,
which was very well supported by our artillery. The fire from our
guns was very effective, the range being found with ease, and we
could see the shells dropping right into the enemy’s ranks.
“Here and there their lines began to waver and give way, and
finally they disappeared. Half an hour later more infantry appeared
on our right front, but we could not say whether it was the same
or another body. This time they were well supported by artillery,
machine guns, and strong forces of cavalry on both flanks. All came
on at a smart pace with the apparent plan of seizing a hill on our
right. At the same moment our cavalry came into view, and then the
whole Guards Brigade advanced.
“It was really a race between the two parties to reach the hill
first, but the Germans won easily, owing to their being nearer by
half a mile.
“As soon as their guns and infantry had taken up a position, the
cavalry came along in a huge mass with the intention of riding down
the Irish Guards, who were nearest to them. When the shock came
it seemed terrific to us in the distance, for the Irishmen didn’t
recoil in the least, but flung themselves right across the path of
the German horsemen.
“We could hear the crack of the rifles and see the German horses
impaled on the bayonets of the front ranks of the Guardsmen; then
the whole force of infantry and cavalry were mixed up in one
confused heap like so many pieces from a jig-saw puzzle. Shells
from the British and German batteries kept dropping close to the
tangled mass of fighting men, and then we saw the German horsemen
get clear and take to flight as fast as their horses would carry
them. Some had no horses, and they were bayoneted where they stood.
“While this was going on there was a confused movement among the
German infantry, as though they were going to the assistance of the
cavalry, but evidently they did not like the look of things, for
they stayed where they were. After this little interruption the
whole of the Guards continued their advance, the Coldstreamers
leading this time, with the Scots in reserve and the Irish in
support.
“Taking advantage of the fight between the cavalry and infantry,
the German artillery had advanced to a new position, from which
they kept up a deadly fire from twelve guns. Our infantry and
cavalry advanced simultaneously against this new position, which
they carried together in the face of a galling fire.
“In the excitement the enemy managed to get away two of their guns,
but the remainder fell into our hands. The infantry and cavalry
supporting the guns didn’t wait for the onslaught of our men, but
bolted like mad, pursued by our cavalry, and galled by a heavy fire
from our infantry and artillery, which quickly found the range.
“We heard later that the Germans were in very great force, and
had attacked in the hope of driving us back, and so uncovering
the French left, but they got more than they bargained for. Their
losses were terrible in what little of the fight we saw, and when
our men captured the guns there was hardly a German left alive or
unwounded. Altogether the fight lasted about seven hours, and when
it was over our cavalry scouts reported that the enemy were in
retreat.”
A Coldstream Guardsman, writing of the fighting near the forest of
Compiègne, compares the sight of the Germans issuing from the trees to
a cup final crowd at the Crystal Palace.
“You couldn’t miss them,” he said. “Our bullets ploughed into them,
but still they came for us. I was well entrenched, and my rifle got
so hot I could hardly hold it. I was wondering if I should have
enough bullets when a pal shouted, ‘Up, Guards, and at ’em!’ The
next second he was rolled over with a nasty knock on the shoulder.
He jumped up and hissed, ‘Let me get at them!’ His language was a
bit stronger than that.
“When we really did get the order to get at them we made no
mistake, I can tell you. They cringed at the bayonet, but those on
our left wing tried to get round us, and after racing as hard as we
could for quite three hundred yards we cut up nearly every man who
did not run away.”
Referring to the cavalry, he writes:—“You have read of the charge
of the Light Brigade. It was nothing to our chaps. I saw two of
our fellows who were unhorsed stand back to back and slash away
with their swords, bringing down nine or ten of the panic-stricken
devils. Then they got hold of the stirrup-straps of a horse without
a rider, and got out of the _mêlée_. This kind of thing was going
on all day.
“In the afternoon I thought we should all get bowled over, as they
came for us again in their big numbers. Where they came from,
goodness knows; but as we could not stop them with bullets they had
another taste of the bayonet. My captain, a fine fellow, was near
to me, and as he fetched them down he shouted, ‘Give them socks, my
lads!’ How many were killed and wounded I don’t know; but the field
was covered with them.”
Private Walter Morton, of the 1st Battalion Black Watch, gave a
description of a magnificent charge by his regiment at St. Quentin to
the _Scotsman_. Private Morton, who is only 19 years of age, belongs to
Camelon, Falkirk:—
We went straight (he said) from Boulogne to Mons, being one of the
first British regiments to reach that place. Neither army seemed
to have a very good position there, but the numbers of the Germans
were far too great to give us any chance of success. We were
hard at it all day on the Monday, and on Tuesday, as the French
reinforcements which we had been expecting did not arrive, the
order was given to retire.
In our retreat we marched close upon eighty miles. We passed
through Cambrai, and a halt was called at St. Quentin. The Germans,
in their mad rush to get to Paris, had seldom been far behind us,
and when we came to St. Quentin the word went through the ranks
that we were going into action. The men were quite jubilant at
the prospect. They had not been at all pleased at their continued
retirement before the enemy, and they at once started to get
things ready. The engagement opened briskly, both our artillery
and the Germans going at it for all they were worth. We were in
good skirmishing order, and under the cover of our guns we were all
the time getting nearer and nearer the enemy. When we had come to
within 100 yards of the German lines the commands were issued for
a charge, and the Black Watch made the charge along with the Scots
Greys. Not far from us the 9th Lancers and the Cameronians joined
in the attack.
It was the finest thing I ever saw. The Scots Greys galloped
forward with us hanging on to their stirrups, and it was a sight
never to be forgotten. We were simply being dragged by the horses
as they flew forward through a perfect cloud of bullets from the
enemy’s maxims. All other sounds were drowned by the thunder of
the horses’ hoofs as they careered wildly on, some of them nearly
driven mad by the bullets which struck them. It was no time for
much thinking. Saddles were being emptied quickly as we closed on
the German lines, and tore past their maxims, which were in the
front ranks.
We were on the German gunners before they knew where they were, and
many of them went down in their gore, scarcely realising that we
were amongst them. Then the fray commenced in deadly earnest. The
Black Watch and the Scots Greys went into it like men possessed.
They fought like demons. It was our bayonets against the Germans’
swords. You could see nothing but the glint of steel, and soon even
that was wanting as our boys got well into the midst of the enemy.
The German swords were no use against us, and just clashed against
the bayonets as the now blood-stained steel was sent well home time
and again. They went down in hundreds, and still the deadly work of
the bayonet continued.
The enemy began to waver as the carnage amongst them increased, and
they soon broke and fled before the bayonets like rabbits before
the shot of a gun. Still the slaughter went on, with here and there
a fierce hand-to-hand exchange, where Germans with their retreat
cut off fought to the last. We knew what our men had come through,
and we did not forget them.
There were about 1,900 of us in that charge against 20,000 Germans,
and the charge itself lasted about four hours. We took close upon
4,000 prisoners, and captured a lot of their guns. In the course of
the fighting I got a cut from a German sword—they are very much
like saws—and fell into a pool of water, where I lay unconscious
for twenty-three hours. I was picked up by one of the 9th Lancers.
The _Liberté_ gives the following details of the German occupation of
Péronne:—
The Germans arrived outside Péronne on August 28, at five in the
afternoon. French Dragoons and Alpine regiments fought with the
greatest courage to oppose their advance, and enabled the French
troops to retire in good order. The Germans had guns in position in
the woods at Racogne, overlooking Péronne, and from the east, on
the left bank of the Somme, they shelled the town, which greatly
suffered.
The enemy entered Péronne at 5.30. The soldiers behaved
disgracefully, shouting madly and firing shots at windows, in
order to terrorise the inhabitants. At the Town Hall they summoned
the authorities, and as none came forward the Germans burned the
sub-prefecture building and surrounding houses, after having thrown
petrol over them with pumps and then using grenades.
The whole of the main square would have been completely destroyed,
had it not been for the courageous intervention of a priest. Canon
Caron, who, after an interview with the German officers, succeeded
in obtaining a promise that the passage of the enemy through
Péronne should not be marked by the complete destruction of this
ancient town.
Three inhabitants were selected to take over the administration of
the town, and the Germans asked for four hostages, who, however,
were released after three days. During the occupation, which lasted
from August 27 till September 14, the Germans behaved in the most
arbitrary manner. They were constantly requisitioning provisions,
and searched and looted all houses and shops, and they sent back
to Germany whole trains filled with furniture stolen from deserted
houses.
On September 5 the head doctor of the German ambulance gave orders
to send to Amiens all the French wounded. The Amiens Red Cross sent
twenty automobiles, with doctors and nurses, and the latter were
on the point of restarting for Amiens when Colonel von Kosser, the
Governor of the town, ordered them to be detained in Péronne, where
they remained for two days in barracks, and were then released. The
Red Cross people had to walk to Amiens, as the Germans kept the
motor-cars. On September 14 Colonel von Kosser hurriedly left the
town, and the next morning a division of French cavalry reoccupied
the place.
The Germans left so precipitately that they had to abandon the
wounded and the ambulances. The staff of the latter consisted of
seventy women, twenty-five doctors, 150 assistants, a Protestant
chaplain, a Franciscan chaplain, and a few sisters. The latter
were armed with heavy revolvers, which a German doctor said was to
ensure the protection of their persons.
In spite of such a gross violation of the Geneva Convention, the
_personnel_ of the ambulances were treated with the greatest
respect. The women were disarmed, and the ambulance, which was
splendidly organised, was sent by special train to Switzerland.
The _Daily Telegraph_ correspondent described how the English, in their
retirement, came like an avalanche on Chantilly, followed closely by
the Germans, after evacuating Compiègne. His informant was an English
trainer who escaped with his wife under the fire of the German guns,
leaving all his fine racehorses, goods, and chattels behind.
“It was on Sunday last, August 30, he said, that the firing which
had been coming nearer and nearer La Croix Saint-Ouen made him
hurry into Compiègne to learn what was going on. He was surprised
to find Compiègne become the headquarters of the retiring British
Army. The sight was one of the most extraordinary he had ever seen.
At a place I am not at liberty to mention he was suddenly met by
what he calls an invasion of all that might be called English.
First the motor vans appeared. All London, Manchester, and
Liverpool seemed to be on the roads. English brewery vans and
London motor-’buses with advertisements still on some of them
led the way. Along came the vans of well-known firms like an
avalanche. They raced down the roads, tooted without stopping, and
made a deafening noise that echoed all over the forest.
Provisions, guns, and ammunition were conveyed as fast as they
could to the place assigned them in the rear. The drivers seemed to
know the roads as if they had been over them every day for years.
When they reached the place assigned to them they got out, prepared
to lay down and sleep on the roadside, and told each other funny
stories to while away the time. One of the last who had come into
Compiègne had missed his way. Suddenly he came upon a few Germans
whom he mistook at first for English soldiers. He looked more
closely, and when only within a few hundred yards he recognised his
mistake. He instantly wheeled his van round, and before they were
able to open fire he was racing down the road as if devils were
behind him. ‘I got my van away all right and I laughed at their
popping at me,’ he said.
After the vans came the soldiers, headed by the 5th Dragoons. They
had blown up everything behind them, railway lines and bridges,
and it would be some time before the Germans would come up. The
soldiers as they reached Compiègne were in the best of spirits.
They had been fighting all the time, killing scores of the enemy as
they retired through the woods, and losing hardly a man themselves.
The French people in all the villages and at Compiègne received
them with a hearty welcome.
When they came to an inn or a ‘marchand de vin,’ they were offered
any drink in the shop for nothing, or what they liked to give. As
a rule the barmen offered them the best wine. The soldiers would
smell it, nod their heads, as much as to convey ‘this is good,’
and down it would go. ‘Fine drink that,’ they would say to each
other, and march off again. At Compiègne all the townsfolk came
out, and exclaimed: ‘What fine men, these English!’ The fact is the
people here, as well as at Chantilly, were accustomed to see, as a
rule, only English jockeys and stable lads, of less than average
size. They had thereby come to imagine that Englishmen mostly were
smaller than the French. When they saw the Dragoons and Lancers and
the Scottish troops and Highlanders, they wondered, and were beside
themselves with admiration.
In the shops the English soldiers made it a point to pay for
everything they got. Funny scenes were often witnessed. They would
select anything they fancied, hold it up in their hands, and ask
mutely by a sign ‘How much?’ Sometimes misunderstandings occurred.
Tommy Atkins had not yet had time to master the simplicity of
French currency. Two of them were buying bread. One paid for his,
and the other laid down the same amount, thinking it was all right.
The loaf was much bigger, and the baker tried to explain to him
that it was two pounds. ‘What,’ exclaimed the indignant trooper,
‘two pounds for a loaf of bread. You are trying it on,’ and out he
walked indignantly, clinging to his loaf nevertheless. Finally,
it was explained to him what the baker meant, namely, that it
weighed two pounds. The soldier at once asked a pal to return and
apologise, and, as he said, ‘pay up and tell the tale.’
The Germans did not give them time to stay long at Compiègne.
Firing was resumed during the night, and on Monday afternoon,
August 31, the enemy was already swarming round La Croix-Saint-Ouen
and La Morlay. In the withdrawal the English were accompanied by
French chasseurs Alpins, and the country in the valley of the
Oise, with its steep slopes, afforded them good opportunities of
inflicting losses on the enemy.
The alarm of the advancing Germans had reached Chantilly. People
went from house to house to spread the news. Most of the trainers
had already left and their horses had also been got away. Still
about forty or fifty animals remained in the stables. On Tuesday,
September 1, the guns were heard at Chantilly. Fighting was then
going on around Creil, which the Germans had reached. The English
soldiers fell back methodically, eating and sleeping on the
roadside, and turning back to have a shot at the enemy. He lent
himself easily to this game by coming on in dense columns.
The soldiers have wonderful tales about the execution done by
the Maxim guns. ‘We take up a position on the roadside and wait
for them to come,’ said one of them. ‘When they are 200 or 300
yards away we are eager to fire. “Wait a bit,” says the Captain,
“till I make sure they are not English.” He looks through his
field-glasses, and then says, “Let ’em have it, boys!” Off it goes,
and you see fifty or sixty of them fellows drop. They don’t care;
others come on, and then we move our gun.’
This is the kind of fighting that was going on for three days
in the forests of Compiègne and Chantilly. They cover about
50,000 acres of ground, and lend themselves wonderfully to small
skirmishes. The woods are cut in every direction by lanes and
training paths, which were used by the Germans. They even moved
their artillery over them; in fact, they swarmed everywhere. On
Tuesday evening Chantilly was empty.” The frightful odds which
the Germans, knowing the quality of our troops, threw against our
lines, caused a withdrawal to a new position.
After this engagement, says a Press Bureau statement, our troops were
no longer molested. Wednesday, September 2, was the first quiet day
they had had since the fighting had begun at Mons on August 23.
During the whole of this period marching and fighting had been
continuous, and in the whole period the British casualties had
amounted, according to the latest estimates, to about 15,000 officers
and men.
The fighting having been in open order upon a wide front, with repeated
retirements, led to a large number of officers and men, and even small
parties, missing their way and getting separated, and it was known that
a very considerable number of those included in the total would rejoin
the colours safely.
These losses, though heavy in so small a force, in no wise affected the
spirit of the troops.
They did not amount to a third of the losses inflicted by the British
force upon the enemy, and the sacrifice required of the Army had not
been out of proportion to its military achievements.
In all, drafts amounting to 19,000 men reached our Army, or were
approaching them on the line of communication, and advantage was taken
of the five quiet days that had passed since the action of September 1
to fill up the gaps and refit and consolidate the units.
The German army on September 2 was described as having “gradually
narrowed its principal attacking point, until it had become an
arrow-head or a V-shaped mass pointing directly for Paris, and the
southern-most end of the enemy was just before Creil, less than an
hour’s run from the capital by train. Before it was a river, bridges
awaiting to be blown up, an army as ready as ever to resist it, and the
fortifications of Paris. Away on the sloping flanks were armies of the
Allies, numerically inferior but as full of fight as their opponents.”
But the Germans had advanced further south than Creil for on the night
of September 1 their patrols were in action at Senlis with an Infantry
Brigade of the Allies.
It is curious to note that this quiet day was the forty-fourth
anniversary of the battle of Sedan, when it was expected that the
Germans would have made a desperate effort—sparing no sacrifices
to repeat the triumph of 1870. But the conditions that prevailed on
September 2, 1914, were not quite the same. Sedan-day was, however,
celebrated in Berlin, where demonstrations were said to have taken
place of a character highly satisfactory to the public.
The fighting at this place was severe, as is testified by the Rev.
F. Anstruther Cardew, Chaplain of St. George’s, Paris, who recently
paid a visit to the battlefields of the Aisne. “Our route,” he said,
“lay through Senlis, a beautiful old-world town with its venerable
cathedral and monastery. I knew that the Germans had occupied this
place and done much damage, but I was not prepared for what I saw. The
quarter of the town through which we drove was utterly wrecked, every
single house without exception was smashed to pieces by shells and
gutted by fire; nothing was left to tell the passage of the German army
but blackened and desolate rubble and masonry.” Other quarters of the
town, however, do not appear to have suffered so heavily.
Mr. W. Maxwell, writing from Beauvais, on Wednesday, September 2,
supplied the following able article on the retirement of the British
Expeditionary Forces:—
I have just returned from the direction of Rheims, and have met
some of the men who have been fighting in the north. The last time
I saw them was on Saturday, August 22, when they were marching on
Mons. Their lines stretched east toward Charleroi and west toward
Tournai through Valenciennes, and army headquarters were at Le
Cateau, about sixty miles to the south.
Since then they have fought a great battle and fallen back fighting
over a distance of nearly 100 miles. Yet it is just the same
confident and cheerful army it was ten days ago.
The retirement must have been a fearful ordeal. Everybody is aware
of the tremendous efforts the enemy have been making to strike at
the capital of France. They have been content with demonstrations
on the east and with masking the fortress positions along that
border; they have descended in hordes from the north; they have
poured out their blood like water from the Meuse to the Somme; but
they have reserved their greatest efforts and sacrifices for the
north-west.
It is this turning movement on the left flank of the British that
has forced the allied armies to retire. Never was attack made with
more reckless courage nor pressed with such relentless ferocity.
And never was defence conducted with greater heroism. Every mile
has been contested with stubborn gallantry, British and French
retiring with their faces to the foe.
Their numbers were overwhelming. They gave us no rest. Night and
day they hammered away, coming on like great waves. The gaps we
made were filled instantly. Their artillery, which is well handled,
played upon us incessantly. Their cavalry swept down upon us with
amazing recklessness. If we have heavy losses the enemy have even
greater.
Officers tell me that our men fought with cool gallantry. They
never wavered an instant. But the pressure was irresistible.
Column after column, squadron after squadron, mass after mass,
the enemy came on like a battering ram crushing everything in its
way. Shattered to fragments by shot and shell, the hordes of the
enemy seemed instantly to renew themselves; they swarmed on all
sides. Nothing but the sheer pluck, the steadfast courage and the
unflinching determination of our soldiers saved the army from
annihilation.
The losses inflicted on the enemy must have been enormous. They
attacked in solid formation, and whole brigades of infantry were
decimated by the fire of our rifles and guns. No army of civilised
men can endure such devastation as was wrought among the Germans in
this long battle over scores of miles.
The retirement was effected with admirable coolness and skill. The
positions of the covering troops were well chosen, and our guns
shelled the advancing columns until the dead lay in heaps along the
roads and in the fields.
“The enemy hung on to us like grim death,” said a wounded soldier, who
insisted on remaining in the ranks. “They wanted us to retire in a
direction they had determined upon. But we were not taking our marching
orders from them. We went our own way, and at our own pace. We were
retiring—not retreating.”
Remembering the tremendous difficulties of carrying out a retirement
under such conditions, it is amazing how well the men held together.
Their losses were great, but not nearly so great as the circumstances
seemed to exact. Many of the missing men found their way back to their
regiments, from which they were separated in the desperate rush of the
fighting.
The attack on the French army on our right seems to have been heaviest
in the neighbourhood of St. Quentin. But the French met it with courage
and coolness, sweeping the ranks with their artillery, and advancing
with the bayonet under covering fire. For a time they were able to
resume the offensive, and drove thousands of the enemy across the river.
But here, as on the left wing, the story was the same. The numbers of
the enemy seemed inexhaustible. No sooner was one column wiped out than
another was there to take its place. There was nothing for it but to
retire fighting.
In continuation of the deeply interesting despatch of Sir John French
of September 17, the first portion of which is quoted at the beginning
of this chapter, he says:—
On the 1st September, when retiring from the thickly-wooded country
to the south of Compiègne, the 1st Cavalry Brigade was overtaken
by some German cavalry. They momentarily lost a Horse Artillery
battery, and several officers and men were killed and wounded. With
the help, however, of some detachments from the 3rd Corps operating
on their left, they not only recovered their own guns but succeeded
in capturing 12 of the enemy’s.
Similarly, to the eastward, the 1st Corps, retiring south, also
got into some very difficult forest country, and a somewhat severe
rearguard action ensued at Villers-Cotterets, in which the 4th
Guards Brigade suffered considerably.
On September 3rd the British Forces were in position south of
the Marne between Lagny and Signy-Signets. Up to this time I had
been requested by General Joffre to defend the passages of the
river as long as possible, and to blow up the bridges in my front.
After I had made the necessary dispositions, and the destruction
of the bridges had been effected, I was asked by the French
Commander-in-Chief to continue my retirement to a point some 12
miles in rear of the position I then occupied, with a view to
taking up a second position behind the Seine. This retirement was
duly carried out. In the meantime the enemy had thrown bridges and
crossed the Marne in considerable force, and was threatening the
Allies all along the line of the British Forces and the 5th and
9th French Armies. Consequently several small outpost actions took
place.
On Saturday, September 5, I met the French Commander-in-Chief
at his request, and he informed me of his intention to take
the offensive forthwith, as he considered conditions were very
favourable to success.
General Joffre announced to me his intention of wheeling up the
left flank of the 6th Army, pivoting on the Marne and directing it
to move on the Ourcq; cross and attack the flank of the 1st German
Army, which was then moving in a south-easterly direction east of
that river.
He requested me to effect a change of front to my right—my left
resting on the Marne and my right on the 5th Army—to fill the gap
between that army and the 6th. I was then to advance against the
enemy in my front and join in the general offensive movement.
These combined movements practically commenced on Sunday, September
6th, at sunrise; and on that day it may be said that a great battle
opened on a front extending from Ermenonville, which was just in
front of the left flank of the 6th French Army, through Lizy
on the Marne, Mauperthuis, which was about the British centre,
Courtaçon, which was the left of the 5th French Army, to Esternay
and Charleville, the left of the 9th Army under General Foch, and
so along the front of the 9th, 4th, and 3rd French Armies to a
point north of the fortress of Verdun.
This battle, in so far as the 6th French Army, the British Army,
the 5th French Army, and the 9th French Army were concerned, may
be said to have concluded on the evening of September 10, by which
time the Germans had been driven back to the line Soissons-Reims,
with a loss of thousands of prisoners, many guns, and enormous
masses of transport.
About the 3rd September the enemy appears to have changed his plans
and to have determined to stop his advance south direct upon Paris,
for on the 4th September air reconnaissances showed that his main
columns were moving in a south-easterly direction generally east of
a line drawn through Nanteuil and Lizy on the Ourcq.
On the 5th September several of these columns were observed to have
crossed the Marne, whilst German troops, which were observed moving
south-east up the left flank of the Ourcq on the 4th, were now
reported to be halted and facing that river. Heads of the enemy’s
columns were seen crossing at Changis, La Ferté, Nogent, Château
Thierry, and Mezy.
Considerable German columns of all arms were seen to be converging
on Montmirail, whilst before sunset large bivouacs of the enemy
were located in the neighbourhood of Coulommiers, south of Rebais,
La Ferté-Gaucher, and Dagny.
I should conceive it to have been about noon on the 6th September,
after the British Forces had changed their front to the right
and occupied the line Jouy—Le Chatel—Faremoutiers—Villeneuve
Le Comte, and the advance of the 6th French Army north of the
Marne towards the Ourcq became apparent, that the enemy realised
the powerful threat that was being made against the flank of his
columns moving south-east, and began the great retreat which opened
the battle above referred to.
On the evening of the 6th September, therefore, the fronts and
positions of the opposing armies were roughly as follows:—
ALLIES.
_6th French Army._—Right on the Marne at Meux, left towards Betz.
_British Forces._—On the line Dagny—Coulommiers—Maison.
_5th French Army._—At Courtagon, right on Esternay.
_Conneau’s Cavalry Corps._—Between the right of the British and
the left of the French 5th Army.
GERMANS.
_4th Reserve and 2nd Corps._—East of the Ourcq and facing that
river.
_9th Cavalry Division._—West of Crecy.
_2nd Cavalry Division._—North of Coulommiers.
_4th Corps._—Rebais.
_3rd and 7th Corps._—South-west of Montmirail.
All these troops constituted the 1st German Army, which was
directed against the French 6th Army on the Ourcq, and the British
Forces, and the left of the 5th French Army south of the Marne.
The 2nd German Army (IX., X., X.R., and Guard) was moving against
the centre and right of the 5th French Army and the 9th French Army.
On the 7th September both the 5th and 6th French Armies were
heavily engaged on our flank. The 2nd and 4th Reserve German Corps
on the Ourcq vigorously opposed the advance of the French towards
that river, but did not prevent the 6th Army from gaining some
headway, the Germans themselves suffering serious losses. The
French 5th Army threw the enemy back to the line of the Petit Morin
River after inflicting severe losses upon them, especially about
Montçeaux, which was carried at the point of the bayonet.
The enemy retreated before our advance, covered by his 2nd and 9th
and Guard Cavalry Divisions, which suffered severely.
Our Cavalry acted with great vigour, especially General De Lisle’s
Brigade with the 9th Lancers and 18th Hussars.
On the 8th September the enemy continued his retreat northward,
and our Army was successfully engaged during the day with strong
rearguards of all arms on the Petit Morin River, thereby materially
assisting the progress of the French Armies on our right and left,
against whom the enemy was making his greatest efforts. On both
sides the enemy was thrown back with very heavy loss. The 1st
Army Corps encountered stubborn resistance at La Trétoire (north
of Rebais). The enemy occupied a strong position with infantry
and guns on the northern bank of the Petit Morin River; they were
dislodged with considerable loss. Several machine guns and many
prisoners were captured, and upwards of two hundred German dead
were left on the ground.
The forcing of the Petit Morin at this point was much assisted
by the Cavalry and the 1st Division, which crossed higher up the
stream.
Later in the day a counter-attack by the enemy was well repulsed
by the 1st Army Corps, a great many prisoners and some guns again
falling into our hands.
On this day (8th September) the 2nd Army Corps encountered
considerable opposition, but drove back the enemy at all points
with great loss, making considerable captures.
The 3rd Army Corps also drove back considerable bodies of the
enemy’s infantry and made some captures.
On the 9th September the 1st and 2nd Army Corps forced the passage
of the Marne and advanced some miles to the north of it. The 3rd
Corps encountered considerable opposition, as the bridge at La
Ferté was destroyed and the enemy held the town on the opposite
bank in some strength, and thence persistently obstructed the
construction of a bridge; so the passage was not effected until
after nightfall.
During the day’s pursuit the enemy suffered heavy loss in killed
and wounded, some hundreds of prisoners fell into our hands and a
battery of eight machine guns was captured by the 2nd Division.
On this day the 6th French Army was heavily engaged west of the
River Ourcq. The enemy had largely increased his force opposing
them; and very heavy fighting ensued, in which the French were
successful throughout.
The left of the 5th French Army reached the neighbourhood of
Château Thierry after the most severe fighting, having driven the
enemy completely north of the river with great loss.
The fighting of this army in the neighbourhood of Montmirail was
very severe.
The advance was resumed at daybreak on the 10th up to the line of
the Ourcq, opposed by strong rearguards of all arms. The 1st and
2nd Corps, assisted by the Cavalry Division on the right, the 3rd
and 5th Cavalry Brigades on the left, drove the enemy northwards.
Thirteen guns, seven machine guns, about 2,000 prisoners, and
quantities of transport fell into our hands. The enemy left many
dead on the field. On this day the French 5th and 6th Armies had
little opposition.
As the 1st and 2nd German Armies were now in full retreat, this
evening marks the end of the battle which practically commenced
on the morning of the 6th instant; and it is at this point in the
operations that I am concluding the present despatch.
Although I deeply regret to have had to report heavy losses in
killed and wounded throughout these operations, I do not think
they have been excessive in view of the magnitude of the great
fight, the outlines of which I have only been able very briefly to
describe, and the demoralisation and loss in killed and wounded
which are known to have been caused to the enemy by the vigour and
severity of the pursuit.
In concluding this despatch I must call your Lordship’s special
attention to the fact that from Sunday, August 23rd, up to the
present date (September 17th), from Mons back almost to the Seine,
and from the Seine to the Aisne, the Army under my command has been
ceaselessly engaged without one single day’s halt or rest of any
kind.
CHAPTER VII
THE GERMAN ADVANCE ON PARIS—THE GOVERNMENT QUIT THE CAPITAL FOR
BORDEAUX—THE FORTIFICATIONS OF PARIS—PREPARATIONS FOR A
SIEGE—THE GERMAN CHANGE OF PLAN—SIR JOHN FRENCH’S DESPATCH
—GERMAN VENGEANCE—THE FAILURE OF THE CROWN PRINCE’S ARMY—
DECLARATION OF THE TRIPLE ENTENTE—CONCLUSION.
On September 2 the Germans were in the neighbourhood of Senlis, which
is situated only 30 miles from Paris. The advance of the enemy had
been steady and it seemed certain that in the course of a day, or at
most two, the advance guard would have reached the line of the outer
fortifications of the capital. The lines of the Allies were still
unbroken, and they were falling back methodically and in good order.
The enemy had failed in cutting off and destroying them, but that
they intended to siege Paris seemed inevitable. And in this event the
city would be placed entirely under military rule. It was essential,
therefore, that the Government should avoid being bottled up in the
city. As happened in 1870, for these reasons the French Government
decided to quit Paris for the time being and proceeded to Bordeaux,
and before doing so, on September 2, the following proclamation was
addressed to the country by the President and Ministers:—
For several weeks sanguinary combats have taken place between our
heroic troops and the enemy’s army. The bravery of our soldiers
has gained for them at several points marked successes, but to the
north the pressure of the German forces has compelled us to retire.
This situation imposes upon the President of the Republic and the
Government the painful decision that in order to watch over the
national safety the duty of the authorities is to leave Paris.
Under the command of an eminent leader, a French army full of
courage will defend the capital and the patriotic population
against the invader; but the war must be continued at the same time
on the rest of the territory without peace or truce, without stay
or weakness.
The sacred struggle for the honour of the nation and reparation for
violated right will continue.
None of our armies has been broken. If some have sustained too
perceptible losses, the gaps will be immediately filled from the
depôts, and the call for recruits assures us for the morrow new
resources in men and energy to endure and fight.
That must be the watchword of the allied British, Russian, Belgian,
and French armies—to endure and to fight whilst on the sea the
British aid us to cut the communications of our enemies with the
world; to endure and to fight whilst the Russians continue to
advance to deal a decisive blow at the heart of the German Empire.
To the Government of the Republic belongs the duty of directing
this stubborn resistance everywhere for French independence.
To give this formidable struggle all its ardour and all its
efficacy it is indispensable that the Government should remain free
to act on the demand of the military authorities.
The Government is removing its residence to a point where it can
remain in constant relations with the whole of the country.
The National Government does not leave Paris without having assured
the defence of the city and the entrenched camp by all the means
in its power. The Government knows there is no need to advise the
Parisian population to calmness, resolution, and coolness.
Frenchmen, be worthy in these tragic circumstances. We shall obtain
a final victory. We shall obtain it by untiring will, by endurance
and tenacity.
A nation which does not desire to perish, and which wishes to
live, recoils neither before suffering nor sacrifices, is sure of
conquering.
Although a large number of the inhabitants had left the capital, those
who remained maintained a calm demeanour. There was no panic, only
strenuous preparations for an energetic defence. Some of the public
buildings, including the Louvre, had been protected above against
damage from shells or bombs dropped from aircraft, and the most valued
treasures of that museum had been withdrawn to a place of safety.
A correspondent of the Central News wrote from Paris:—
Few of the thousands of artists and art-lovers who have been
wont to visit the Louvre daily for instruction or pleasure would
recognise their haunt now. For the last four weeks the staff
has been working hard to carry out the measures ordered for the
protection of the chief works of art from what a French paper says
is the only danger that menaces them—aerial bombs.
In 1870 the “Venus” of Milo was walled up in a subterranean niche.
The advance of civilisation has evolved a more prosaic and more
effective protection, and she is now enclosed in a steel room. The
“Winged Victory” is sheltered behind heavy iron plates, and the
“Gioconda” smiles in obscurity as inscrutably as ever. The Grecian
Hall, which contains the masterpieces of Phidias, is protected
by sacks filled with earth against any aerial attack. The upper
stories of the Louvre, with their glass roofs, have been turned
into hospitals, and the flag of the Red Cross protects the works
which remain there.
Many paintings and statues have been transferred from the
Luxembourg to the old Seminaire, which will henceforth contain
the collection, and in all the other galleries, both private and
public, the treasures of art are being hidden underground or placed
behind heavy screens.
Even with such a danger as a siege imminent, it was recognised that
the enemy’s task was very great. His object was obviously to push on
to Paris as rapidly as possible in order to disturb the preparations
for the defence of the city. M. Millerand, however, from the first day
of taking office, ordered Paris to be got ready for immediate defence;
while General Gallieni, an excellent commander and administrator, lost
no time, and the work of preparing the defences proceeded without
intermission, day and night. As the Paris correspondent of the _Daily
Telegraph_ said:—
Only an army of two million men could invest the entrenched camp
of Paris with its outlying forts. The very worst eventuality to
be considered is a successful raid of the vanguard of what may be
left of the German advancing column into Paris. The German advance
has undoubtedly been very strong, and has not been withstood with
success anywhere up till now. The rush may at this moment have been
stopped. Should it not be, and should the desperate onrush of a
certain number of German army corps break through the French army,
the enemy would come up against the forts surrounding Paris.
Should the German advance column reach these forts, it will arrive
there already to some extent spent, and certainly with its line of
communication cut off. If there is a battle outside the forts of
Paris it will be a desperate encounter, and it is not likely that
the German force engaged will live to tell the tale.
[Illustration: THE FORTS AROUND PARIS]
In describing the fortifications of Paris, he says:—
The defensive works forming the almost impregnable perimeter of
forts and earthworks around Paris would be nearly impossible to
invest by an invading army with a field army in opposition, or
would require an enormous army for the purpose.
There are three lines of defences round Paris—the first is the
belt of old fortification encircling the city, and built under the
premiership of M. Thiers in the reign of Louis Philippe, and these
old walls and earthworks were of little use in 1870. Since 1878 a
second ring of fortified positions was built, though it does not
form a continuous circumference of defensive positions, but several
separate fortresses.
The threatened approach to Paris lies to the north, therefore these
may be described first. A number of very strong positions lie
between the Oise and the Seine—the middle of these powerful lines
resting mostly on hilly eminences in the Forest of Montmorency. The
backbone, so to speak, of these defensive works is composed of a
number of forts.
Beginning with the defences of the Seine, we have the Fort of
Cormeilles, with the Redoubt of Francaville in front, as well
as that of Les Cotillons supported throughout by a number of
batteries. The strong fortified position of Cormeilles stands at
nearly 500 feet above the Seine. The slopes are steep, and for
defence these groups are of great power.
The Valley of Ermont lies between the great works of Cormeilles
and the Forest of Montmorency, but these forts and those of
Montlignon and Montmorency, placed on the south-west fringe of the
forest, sweep the valley. At the north-east of the forest is the
Fort of Domont, and further on a pile covered with trees, another
strong defensive group exists, including the Fort of Ecouen and
several connected batteries.
Southwards are the Forts of Stains and the battery of Pincon Hill.
This remarkably powerful fortress, with its dependent defences
composed of batteries, permanent trenches, timber-cleared expanses
for shooting, and barbed wire fences, render it secure against a
surprise attack. To the east of St. Denis there is a low-lying
plain showing no favourable point for fortification, but which can
be flooded by the Rivers Morée and the Trond. This plain is also
exposed to the fire of the Fort of Stains and the battery of the
“Butte Pincon,” and the defensive works of Vaujours to the south.
The Fort of Vaujours and that of Chelles bar access to Paris in the
passage between the “Canal de l’Durque” and the Marne. Higher up
the Marne than Chelles, and between that river and the Seine, the
Forts of Villiers, Champigny, Sucy, and Villeneuve St. Georges have
been constructed. These fortified bulwarks of Paris are exceedingly
strong. The defensive lines on the Marne from Chelles to Charenton
form a rampart against any surprise rush, and as the positions of
Montmorency and between Vaujours and Chelles, the fixed defences,
have been greatly strengthened by batteries, felled timber and
trenches, wire obstacles, and other devices, a most determined
resistance could be made in this “sector” of fortified positions.
Some improvised field works have been constructed all round Paris,
therefore there is no need to describe them in detail.
Between the Seine and Palaiseau there are no permanent
fortifications in the wide plain, but no attack could be made in
this direction or in the Plain of St. Denis unless the powerful
fortifications which can concentrate their fire on these passages
had been silenced. The fortifications of an earlier date are
completely free from a possible dash and render these zones literal
mouse-traps. Like Montmorency, the forts of Palaiseau, Villiers,
Haut Buc, Saint Cyr, and the batteries of the Bois de Verrières to
the south of Versailles form a real fortress, of which the Fort de
Chatillon is the mainstay behind.
Behind Versailles and St. Germain, the Forest of Marly is literally
enclosed by batteries outlying the extreme strong works of “Le
Trou de Fer.” Behind this group stands the high and prominent fort
of Mont Valérien, which still maintains great military value for
defence.
While Paris was waiting for the approach of the enemy, he altered
his plans and made an unexpected move. As Sir John French said in his
despatch of September 15:—
On Friday, September 4, it became apparent that there was an alteration
in the direction of advance of almost the whole of the First Germany
Army. That army, since the battle near Mons, on August 23, had been
playing its part in the colossal strategic endeavour to create a Sedan
for the Allies by outflanking and enveloping the left of their whole
line, so as to encircle and drive both British and French to the
south. There was now a change in its objective; and it was observed
that the German forces opposite the British were beginning to move in
a south-easterly direction, instead of continuing south-west on the
capital.
Leaving a strong rearguard along the line of the River Ourcq (which
flows south, and joins the Marne at Lizy-sur-Ourcq) to keep off
the French 6th Army, which by then had been formed, and was to the
north-west of Paris, they were evidently executing what amounted
to a flank march diagonally across our front. Prepared to ignore
the British, as being driven out of the fight, they were initiating
an effort to attack the left flank of the French main army, which
stretched in a long curved line from our right towards the east, and
so to carry out against it alone the envelopment which had so far
failed against the combined forces of the Allies.
On Saturday, the 5th, this movement on the part of the Germans was
continued, and large advanced parties crossed the Marne, southwards at
Trilport, Sammeroy, La Ferté-sous-Jouarre, and Château Thierry.
There was considerable fighting with the French 5th Army on the French
left, which fell back from its position south of the Marne towards the
Seine. On Sunday, the 6th, large hostile forces crossed the Marne and
pushed on through Coulommiers past the British right. Farther east they
were attacked at night by the French 5th Army, which captured three
villages at the point of the bayonet.
On Monday, the 7th, there was a general advance on the part of the
Allies in this quarter of the field. Our forces, which had by now been
reinforced, pushed on in a north-easterly direction, in co-operation
with an advance of the French 5th Army to the north and of the French
6th Army eastwards, against the German rearguard along the Ourcq.
Possibly weakened by the detachment of troops to the eastern theatre
of operations, and realising that the action of the French 6th Army
against the line of the Ourcq and the advance of the British placed
their own flanking movement in considerable danger of being taken in
rear and on its right flank, the Germans on this day commenced to
retire towards the north-east.
This was the first time that these troops had turned back since their
attack at Mons a fortnight before, and from reports received, the order
to retreat when so close to Paris was a bitter disappointment. From
letters found on the dead there is no doubt that there was a general
impression amongst the enemy’s troops that they were about to enter
Paris.
On Tuesday, the 8th, the German movement north-eastwards was continued,
their rearguards on the south of the Marne being pressed back to
that river by our troops and by the French on our right, the latter
capturing three villages after a hand-to-hand fight and the infliction
of severe losses on the enemy.
The fighting along the Ourcq continued on this day and was of the most
sanguinary character, for the Germans had massed a great force of
artillery along this line. Very few of their infantry were seen by the
French. The French 5th Army also made a fierce attack on the Germans in
Montmirail, regaining that place.
On Wednesday, the 9th, the battle between the French 6th Army and what
was now the German flank guard along the Ourcq continued. The British
corps, overcoming some resistance on the River Petit Morin, crossed
the Marne in pursuit of the Germans, who were now hastily retreating
northwards. One of our corps was delayed by an obstinate defence made
by a strong rearguard with machine guns at La Ferté-sous-Jouarre, where
the bridge had been destroyed.
On Thursday, the 10th, the French 6th Army continued its pressure on
the west, while the 5th Army, by forced marches, reached the line
Château Thierry—Dormans on the Marne. Our troops also continued the
pursuit on the north of the latter river, and after a considerable
amount of fighting captured some 1,500 prisoners, four guns, six
machine guns, and fifty transport wagons.
Many of the enemy were killed and wounded, and the numerous thick
woods which dot the country north of the Marne were filled with German
stragglers. Most of them appeared to have been without food for at
least two days. Indeed, in this area of operations the Germans seemed
to be demoralised and inclined to surrender in small parties, and the
general situation appeared to be most favourable to the Allies.
Much brutal and senseless damage was done in the villages occupied by
the enemy. Property was wantonly destroyed, pictures in the châteaux
were ripped up, and the houses generally pillaged. It is stated
on unimpeachable authority, also, that the inhabitants were much
ill-treated.
Interesting incidents occurred during the fighting. On the 10th, part
of our 2nd Army Corps advancing north found itself marching parallel
with another infantry force at some little distance away. At first
it was thought that this was another British unit. After some time,
however, it was discovered that it was a body of Germans retreating.
Measures were promptly taken to head off the enemy, who were surrounded
and trapped in a sunken road, where over 400 men surrendered.
On the 10th a small party of French under a non-commissioned officer
was cut off and surrounded. After a desperate resistance it was decided
to go on fighting to the end. Finally the N.C.O. and one man only
were left, both being wounded. The Germans came up and shouted to them
to lay down their arms. The German commander, however, signed to them
to keep their arms, and then asked permission to shake hands with the
wounded non-commissioned officer, who was carried off on his stretcher
with his rifle by his side.
The arrival of the reinforcements and the continued advance delighted
the troops, who were full of zeal and anxious to press on.
Quite one of the features of the campaign, on our side, has been the
success attained by the Royal Flying Corps. In regard to the collection
of information it is impossible either to award too much praise to our
aviators for the way they carried out their duties, or to overestimate
the value of the intelligence collected, more especially during the
recent advance. In due course, certain examples of what has been
effected may be specified, and the far-reaching nature of the results
fully explained, but that time has not yet arrived.
That the services of our Flying Corps, which has really been on
trial, are fully appreciated by our Allies is shown by the following
message from the Commander-in-Chief of the French Armies, received on
September 9 by Field-Marshal Sir John French:
Please express most particularly to Marshal French my thanks for
services rendered on every day by the English Flying Corps. The
precision, exactitude, and regularity of the news brought in by its
members are evidence of their perfect organisation, and also of the
perfect training of pilots and observers.
To give a rough idea of the amount of work carried out, it is
sufficient to mention that during a period of twenty days up to
September 10 a daily average of more than nine reconnaissance flights
of over 100 miles each had been maintained.
The constant object of our aviators has been to effect the accurate
location of the enemy’s forces, and incidentally—since the operations
cover so large an area—of our own units. Nevertheless, the tactics
adopted for dealing with hostile aircraft are to attack them instantly
with one or more British machines. This has been so far successful that
in five cases German pilots or observers have been shot in the air and
their machines brought to ground.
As a consequence, the British Flying Corps has succeeded in
establishing an individual ascendancy which is as serviceable to us as
it is damaging to the enemy. How far it is due to this cause it is not
possible at present to ascertain definitely, but the fact remains that
the enemy have recently become much less enterprising in their flights.
Something in the direction of the mastery of the air has already been
gained.
In pursuance of the principle that the main object of military aviators
is the collection of information, bomb dropping has not been indulged
in to any great extent. On one occasion a petrol bomb was successfully
exploded in a German bivouac at night, while, from a diary found on
a dead German cavalry soldier, it has been discovered that a high
explosive bomb thrown at a cavalry column from one of our aeroplanes
struck an ammunition wagon. The resulting explosion killed fifteen of
the enemy.
Ample evidence has been supplied by the correspondents to the
newspapers of the inhuman treatment meted out to civilians by the
Germans. Reference has already been made in the present book to this
subject. There is another unworthy characteristic of the Germans
by which they exact the utmost penalty from non-combatants. Mr.
William Maxwell has illustrated this form of vandalism in the
following interesting article contributed to the columns of the _Daily
Telegraph_. Apparently the same tale might be told of any village
or town in France or Belgium through which the Germans advanced or
retreated:—
This is a story of German rage and vengeance, not a story of mere
looting. Every army loots—even the British Army will condescend
to steal chickens and an occasional sheep. In South Africa Lord
Roberts had to threaten severe penalties for raids on private
property, and I remember an Australian colonel warning his men in
this fashion: “If I catch any one of you stealing and killing a
sheep—except in self-defence————” The rest of the threat was never
spoken.
At three o’clock on Saturday afternoon, September 5, several
thousand of the enemy’s cavalry—Uhlans, Dragoons, and
Chasseurs—with horse artillery and machine guns, rode into the
village of Beton-Bazoches, south of the River Marne. At first they
behaved well enough toward the inhabitants, most of them paying
cash for what they took for themselves, and giving receipts for the
stores they requisitioned for the army.
The General and senior members of the Staff took possession of the
inn, while the junior members occupied the house of a grocer,
until a rifle and some ammunition were found on the premises,
whereupon they removed to other quarters. The officer who made this
discovery acted like a sensible and humane man. He advised the
villagers to give up their arms, and said to them: “Remember, I am
not le bon Dieu, and cannot watch over you always. Those who come
after us are hard men.”
He was a true prophet. Next day there was a sudden fall in the
temperature of the invaders. Something unforeseen and dreadful
seemed to have happened, and caused the Germans to abandon those
conciliatory methods which they have usually adopted in places they
have occupied.
I have always been slow to accept stories of atrocities—having
heard them told about every army—and I have never reported one
without giving my authority and having a written and signed
statement. But what I am now about to describe I have seen with my
own eyes.
On Sunday afternoon the German soldiery made the discovery that
brigandage is one of the privileges of war. They broke into
every house and shop, burst open all doors, ransacked every room
from cellar to attic, searched every cupboard and drawer, tore
up letters and account books, and carried off every portable
article of any value. Beton-Bazoches—when they had gone through
it—looked as if an earthquake had struck it and left only the
empty shell. The hotel that sheltered and fed the General was not
spared. A uniformed ruffian rode up to the door and called loudly
for Madame, who promptly appeared, and had a revolver clapped to
her cheek.
“The key to the wine cellar!” demanded the ruffian. In the
twinkling of an eyelid the cellar was emptied, and several hundred
bottles of champagne and other wine—if there is any other
wine—were at the throats of the German soldiers. The same thing
happened elsewhere. Stores and _cafés_ were cleared of their stock
of wines and liqueurs in bottle and barrel. What the soldiers could
not drink or carry away they spilt.
“Pas une bouteille! Pas une bouteille!” cried the distracted mayor
as he showed me over the devastated cellars of his son-in-law,
who had gone to the war. “Pas une bouteille!” He emphasised his
ejaculation by biting his thumb.
“I gave a dozen bottles of good old wine for the sick and wounded,”
said the dame of the inn, “but the brigands drank it, laughed in my
face, and said, ‘Krieg guerre nichts payer.’” The result of this
orgie was that hundreds of German cavalrymen were dead drunk on
Sunday, and that fourteen did not recover from their debauch until
the French arrived at Beton-Bazoches.
A French dragoon, wandering through the town and hearing snores
that sounded like a whole battery of artillery in action, stuck his
lance into what looked like a huge parcel wrapped in a blanket. To
his amazement the parcel stirred. Another prod of the lance, and
there came out of the blanket the head of a bearded Uhlan. One more
touch of cold steel, and the mouth opened with a roar of laughter.
“Ja! Ja!” cried the Uhlan, stepping in lively style out of the
blanket to avoid another prod of the lance. He was immediately
recognised as the ruffian who had taken the key of the inn cellar,
and had pleaded war as an excuse for non-payment of his score.
He was searched, and on him were found 2,000 francs, which had
doubtless been stolen.
On Sunday the Germans set fire to the stables and granaries of the
modest little château, whose owner was absent, and next day they
tried to burn some of the houses and shops, but were in too great a
hurry to set them alight.
On Monday morning they posted their artillery on a height
commanding the road to the west along which the French cavalry was
advancing. But the enemy did not wait to be attacked. After firing
a few shots they removed the guns to another hill on the east,
only to abandon it promptly. Then they rode away, leaving in the
village seven killed, twenty-three wounded, and fourteen drunken
brigands. As they retired the Germans thrust their lances into the
bodies of two wounded French soldiers.
The German wounded were cared for by the villagers. One of them,
said a young Frenchwoman, “was a very pretty boy—a noble, I feel
sure. He was shot through the chest, and offered thousands of marks
for a motor-car to take him to hospital. But we don’t take money
for services of that kind.”
The enemy took with them all the motor-cars and bicycles, many
of the horses and carts, all the petrol, wine, tobacco, jam and
provisions. They killed many sheep and cattle, and kept the village
baker busy night and day, with a revolver at his head and a bayonet
at his back to prevent him from falling asleep. They cleaned out
the shop of the jeweller and watchmaker.
In all the best houses were remnants of interrupted feasts—stumps
of cigars that had burned holes in the table-covers, half-empty
champagne and liqueur bottles, broken bread, and the remains of
chickens and omelettes. Silver was missing, though plated goods
were left, for they appear to have a nice taste in such articles
also.
The next village, Courtaçon, about eight miles to the south of La
Ferté, fared even worse. When I entered between its smoking walls
and smouldering hayricks, I was met by a weeping woman.
“They have killed my son—my only son!”
He was a mere boy, and the German soldiers shot him dead as he sat
at table by his mother’s side.
All the farmsteads, the gendarmerie, all the best houses were heaps
of burning ruins. The Germans set fire to them before they fled;
they shot horses and cattle, they threatened the unarmed villagers
with death, and they put the mayor at the head of their retreating
column. Courtaçon looked as though it had been disembowelled and
thrown to the flames.
The following remarkable disclosure was made by Mr. Granville Fortescue
on a victory of the French over the army of the Crown Prince on
September 6–7. As it will be seen, this event undoubtedly had the
far-reaching result of saving Paris from siege:—
The first German army to be thoroughly whipped on French soil was
that of the Crown Prince. This saved Paris. And this remarkable
piece of news has remained a secret until now. At the time of their
victory the French did not know the extent of the damage they
had inflicted upon the enemy. In fact, they did not make claim to
a decisive victory. In the official communication the most they
claimed was a drawn battle. Actually they had smashed the flower of
German military power.
Contrary to the general impression the great battles round
Paris did not begin with the defeat of General von Kluck. That
commander’s misfortunes were due directly to the retirement of the
German left wing on the night of September 6–7. The mystery which
has surrounded the movements of the German armies disappears now
that we know that the main body of the Crown Prince’s army retired
forty kilometres during that night. Such a retirement amounts to a
rout.
In the plan of the German operations, the path that promised
the greatest glory was reserved for the Crown Prince. This was
in accordance with the policy of bolstering up the fast fading
popularity of the House of Hohenzollern. Throughout Germany he
was acclaimed as the hero of Longwy. His futile demonstration
against Verdun was magnified into a series of glorious assaults.
In official bulletins he was declared to have inflicted a severe
defeat on the French. As a matter of fact, the French army opposed
to him has been carrying out a splendid defensive retirement.
Opposed by superior numbers they have contested with stubbornness
every inch of the ground lost. And in the end they assumed the
offensive in a most effective manner.
The Germans advanced on the line Verdun—Ste.
Menehould—Chalons-sur-Marne. Their progress was exceedingly rapid.
When the Uhlans of Kluck’s force were in Chantilly the main body
of the Kaiser’s heir’s army was yet 200 kilometres away. Then this
army was ordered to push on with all speed. The order of march of
the German army up the Champs Elysées was being drawn up. And,
as the Crown Prince was to head this historic march, undoubtedly
dressed in the uniform of his pet regiment, the Death’s Head
Hussars, the French troops opposing him must be brushed aside.
The left wing of the Germans gave battle on Sunday, September 6.
The fighting began at daybreak, and continued with unprecedented
fury until dark. The artillery fire went beyond anything the
history of warfare has hitherto recorded. Shells were timed to
be falling at the rate of thirty in thirty seconds. I have this
from a trustworthy source. In this day’s fighting the French guns
were served with undeniable superiority. The loss they inflicted
upon the Germans can never be approximately estimated. The total
loss of the Germans is placed at figures so high I hesitate to
record them. One hundred thousand, of whom 20,000 were killed. This
estimate is made by a trained observer, who was on the battlefield
before the dead had been touched.
It must be remembered that the German army was advancing on a front
nearly forty miles in extent, and the country north-east of Sezanne
is the most treacherous in all France. Acres upon acres of marsh
lands line the valleys. Here it was the enemy suffered most.
But the French also made the most severe sacrifices. A certain
corps was practically wiped out of existence. Spurred by the
knowledge that they were fighting for the very existence of Paris,
each French soldier was as three. Against the desperate resistance
they made the Germans could do nothing.
When the night of September 6 closed down neither army could claim
much advantage in position gained.
The French had made certain gains, but then they had also fallen
back at points. An enormous quantity of ammunition had been used
up. The total artillery expenditure is put at 4,000 shells.
Hundreds of caissons were empty.
Then, on the night of September 6–7, came the German retreat. The
long line was giving way, not only on the right towards Paris, but
also on the left, where there seems to have been heavy fighting
about Verdun.
It has been suggested that there was a breakdown on the transport
service in this direction. If this were the case, after the
enormous expenditure of ammunition during the first day of action,
the Crown Prince’s army would have been obliged to fall back or be
captured.
The circumstances of their precipitate flight incline me to the
last explanation. Of course, the fighting on this wing continued
for several days, but the Germans were only trying to save what was
left of a badly crippled army from complete destruction.
With the Crown Prince retreating, there was nothing left for
von Kluck’s and von Bülow’s armies but to execute the same
manœuvre. This brought about the battle of the Aisne and all the
subsequent fighting. In the fighting the French have been uniformly
successful. It goes without saying that the English troops
contributed largely to this success. Their bravery has passed into
proverb throughout France.
While I have been studying this extraordinary battlefield I have
everywhere met the rumour that in the engagement the Kaiser’s heir
was wounded. Stranger things have happened. Following an army in
the field one soon learns to put little credence in the hundred
and one stories that spring into life daily. But the story of the
wounding of the Crown Prince has been clothed in so much detail as
to make it sound plausible. At any rate, although he himself may be
unhurt, his army is hopelessly crippled.
At the moment when the German army was suffering this defeat, the
Allies were taking a step which showed that they were united in the
issue as well as the purposes of the war. On September 6 the Foreign
Office made public the subjoined important declaration concerning the
attitude of the Governments of the Triple Entente regarding the terms
of peace when the time comes for discussing them:—
DECLARATION.
The Undersigned, duly authorised thereto by their respective
Governments, hereby declare as follows:
The British, French, and Russian Governments mutually engage not to
conclude peace separately during the present war.
The three Governments agree that when terms of peace come to be
discussed, no one of the Allies will demand conditions of peace
without the previous agreement of each of the other Allies.
In faith whereof the Undersigned have signed this Declaration and
have affixed thereto their seals.
Done at London in triplicate, this 5th day of September, 1914.
(L.S.) E. GREY,
His Britannic Majesty’s Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.
(L.S.) PAUL CAMBON,
Ambassador Extraordinary Plenipotentiary of the French Republic.
(L.S.) BENCKENDORFF,
Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary of his Majesty
the Emperor of Russia.
* * * * *
An attempt has been made in the foregoing pages to tell the story
of how the Allied forces retreated towards Paris, after the great
battle of August 22–24 at Mons on the Belgian frontier, and continued
to withdraw until the battle at Senlis on September 1. This account
is chiefly concerned with the actions of the British troops who
undoubtedly on the left, by their dogged fighting, had saved the
situation during the first critical days. But their natural position
having been lost, it was the policy of the Allies to retire, and
with entrenched fortifications protecting their left, prepare for a
counter-attack from the advancing Germans.
For the British the enemy’s assault was especially furious, but it
failed both in breaking their lines and their spirit. Travel-stained,
bearded and unwashed, their courage remained undaunted. The Allies
fought as they fell back and fought again, until they met and defeated
the army of the Crown Prince on September 6–7. Here the march of
the invader was arrested, and the next episode of the war was the
victorious fight against the Germans on the Marne.
The despatches of Sir John French and the official _communiqués_
issued by the French War Office supply us with the barest events of
the war, but for a picture of the actual fighting and the heroic deeds
of our brave men we must turn to the many stories told by the soldiers
themselves and other witnesses, some of which we have quoted.
Ever since the South African Campaign the art of war has changed and
the combatants in the present campaign are fighting under circumstances
that have never before prevailed, in many cases with weapons that have
not before been used on the battlefield. Air-craft for reconnaissances,
and armed motor-cars and motor-bicycles and motor vehicles for
transport and other purposes, have gone far towards revolutionising
warfare; although introduced in the Balkan war they are being utilised
to a much greater extent in the present conflict.
Sufficient has been said incidentally in this book with regard to
the German methods of warfare. The justice of our cause has been
demonstrated by able statesmen as well as by men of every shade of
opinion and creed. Their relentless persecution of the neutral State
of Belgium, and their brutal disregard of all recognised canons of
humanity, so far from terrorising the Allies, have strengthened their
determination to fight to the bitter end Germany the enemy of the world.
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Transcriber’s Notes
Text on cover added by Transcriber and placed in the Public Domain. The
original cover appears as an image within some versions of this eBook.
The final illustration is a detailed map of north-eastern France. A
large version of it may be found in the materials for this eBook at
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in this book; otherwise they were not
changed.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; occasional unbalanced
quotation marks retained. Some multi-paragraph quotations did not use
opening quotation marks for the inner paragraphs, while others did.
That inconsistent style was retained here.
Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.
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