The battle of Lemberg began on the 1st of September, and lasted two days. Brussilov struck hard on the Austrian right, while Ruzsky's right came sweeping round to the north of the city and drove in the Austrianleft. So far bent back were the Austrian wings that the general decided to abandon the city and fall back through the wooded country that lay between him and the Carpathians. The Russians pursued him: the Cossacks did great execution on the rearguard, and the big guns played remorselessly on the retreating enemy. Soon the retreat became very hurried; immense numbers of prisoners and scores of guns were captured. Wherever the Austrians made a stand, they cut down tall trees and piled them up to form platforms for their machine guns, which were fixed between the branches. The Russians swept upon these obstacles with the bayonet, and the Austrians fled so quickly that they had no time to get the guns out of the trees. Scores of them, with their supplies of ammunition, fell into the hands of the Russians, and were immediately turned on the flying foe.
At half-past ten on the morning of the 3rd of September the Russian flag was hoisted above the town hall of Lemberg. Most of the inhabitants of this city are Slavs, and they greeted the victors with loud shouts of joy. In the city the Russians found huge stores of every kind, and I am glad to say there was no such looting and destruction as disgraced the Germans in Belgium. The Russians behaved admirably, and the Grand Duke Nicholas issued a proclamation to the Slavs of Austria-Hungary, telling them that the Russians had come as their deliverers, and that thenceforward they were to live in peace and union with their brothers in blood.
"It was a glorious victory." The Russians had captured over 100,000 prisoners and more than 2,500 guns. The Austrians said that they had been defeated because the Slavs in their army had played them false; but the real reason was that the Austrian generals had calculated on the slowness of the Russian mobilization, and had advanced too far into Russia in separate armies which did not work together. The Russian generals showed great skill, especially Ruzsky, when he pushed in between the two Austrian armies, and thus divided them and threatened the flanks of both. The Russian soldiers showed wonderful spirit and endurance during the fighting. They made long and trying marches, and held out for days in their trenches with but little food. So eager were they that they could hardly be kept back from charging with the bayonet at the first sight of the enemy.
By 14th September Brussilov had sent his left wing into the Carpathian passes, and his centre and right advanced along the railway towards Przemysl. The Russians were now masters of a large part of Eastern Galicia. The Poles of Galicia received the conquerors with open arms, and all the Slav races in Austria-Hungary began to take heart of grace.
Meanwhile what had happened to the 1st Austrian Army, now completely cut off from the routed 2nd Army? You will remember that Ivanov's army had retired before the 1st Austrian Army to the river Bug. Against the centre of this army the 1st Austrian Army, strongly reinforced, made an attack about the 4th of September. The attack failed, and then the Russians advanced with such effect that the Austrians were taken in flank and forced to flee southward in utter confusion. Thus you see that while the invasion of Eastern Prussia had ended so disastrously, the campaigns in Galicia were crowned with complete success.
We must not forget that Serbia is also included in the eastern theatre of war. Though this chapter is already long, I must find space to tell you in a few words how these gallant peasant soldiers were faring. You will remember that the great war began with the quarrel between Austria and Serbia, and that on 29th July the Austrians began to bombard Belgrade.[41]
The Serbians were not ready for war, and were obliged to withdraw from their capital and transfer the seat of government to Nish.[42]Their troops took up a strong position on the hills to the south of Belgrade, and the Austrians massed their armies along the north bank of the Danube just below Belgrade, and on the line of the river Save. Other Austrian forces were stationed on the Bosnian frontier, along the line of the Drina.[43]
When Russia made Serbia's cause her own the Austrians were faced, like the Germans, with war on two frontiers. In order to meet the bigger and more powerful enemy, they were obliged to draw off many of their best troops and attempt to hold the Serbians with about 100,000 men. When the Austrians tried to cross the Danube east of Belgrade they were beaten back by the Serbians with great loss, one regiment being almost entirely wiped out. There were numerous other small fights, and in all of them the Serbians held their own.
In the middle of August the Serbians and Montenegrins advanced on Bosnia, in the attempt to reach Sarajevo, the capital; but the most serious fighting took place along the line of the Lower Save, where, on the 17th, the Austrians were badly beaten, and lost many guns and prisoners. Shortly afterwards the Austrian army of Bosnia also suffered defeat, and was driven over the Drina after a battle which lasted four days. By the end of August the Serbians were able to claim that they had cleared the Austrians out of their country, and that they were slowly advancing into Bosnia.
Russian soldiers have long been famous for the contempt with which they regard wounds and death. The few stories which have been told of their exploits in the battles described in Chapter VIII. prove clearly that they have lost none of their old virtues of daring and devotion.
Our first story is that of a Cossack who attacked twenty-seven Uhlans single-handed, and managed to kill eleven of them. In this fight he received nine wounds in the chest and the back, and lost a finger. "These are not wounds," he said. "The Germans thought I was cornered. I gave them no time to attack me. An officer tried to cut me down, but he was too slow. I hit him over the head, but his helmet protected him. Then I got angry, and killed him. The soldiers were charging me with lances, so I seized one of the lances, and drove it into them, one after another. I was too angry to feel the blows and thrusts which they gave me. Then five friends came up and gave me assistance, and the Germans fled."
Let me tell you how Colonel Alexieff fought for the flag in East Prussia. When the standard-bearer of his regiment was killed he seized the flag and cried, "On, friends, after me!" and though wounded in the neck by shrapnel, still pushed ahead of his men. Bullets rained round him, but his courage so inspired his comrades that with loud cries of "For the Tsar! for our leader!" they rushed forward and routed the Germans opposed to them.
I have already mentioned that the Kaiser has an estate in East Prussia, which he visits every autumn for shooting elk and other big game. Thisestate comprises a model stud farm and an enormous garden. After the Russians had captured Tilsit and were pushing on to Insterburg, they occupied the Kaiser's shooting-box, and the exhausted soldiers lay down to sleep, muddy as they were, on the royal carpets. When they left this fine billet the next day they said, "Thank you, William; we slept well, but nevertheless we shall fight you." A Russian officer wrote home as follows: "After a series of terrible battles we are reposing on William's magnificent estate. Undreamt-of beauty is all round us. The place is splendidly equipped, so that we have at our disposal everything we could wish for, and we are riding his celebrated horses, and enjoying delicious dinners prepared by his man cook. Especially beautiful is the park, with its glorious shady avenues. It swarms with rare animals, and birds are flying free everywhere. By the way, our soldiers have caught a parrot belonging to William. It speaks excellent German, and our men are teaching it to say very uncomplimentary things about its imperial master."
Amongst the Russian officers was a well-known opera-singer, who was in charge of a battery. To encourage his men, he sang many military songs about Peter the Great,[44]and the soldiers joined in the choruses. On one occasion, when his guns were attacked by a strong German force, the guns were ordered to retreat. One battery was unable to do so, because the horses had all been killed or wounded. Seeing this, the singing officer shouted, "We can't leave any guns behind, boys!" He sprang upon a horse, and some of his men followed his example; then they dashed towards the stranded guns and moved them into safety.
You will be interested in the following stories, which give you some idea of the Cossack's methods of fighting. An Austrian officer says: "Our cavalry advanced to the battle with ardour, but the Cossacks fell on us like a whirlwind. Hardly were we in touch before a Cossack gave me three rapid blows—one with his lance, the other with his sabre, and thethird with his fist. How he did it I do not know, but he did not even give me time to fall. He seized me by the collar, lifted me on to his horse and carried me off. His comrades acted similarly, and a good number of our hussars were thus taken prisoners."
How a Cossack put a German patrol to flight is told in the following story: "The Cossack was on the lookout, when he was surprised by a party of Germans. They saw that he was alone, and they swooped on him from a neighbouring wood, headed by an officer waving his sword. Instead of making a race for his life, the Cossack spurred his horse and dashed off right across the path of the Germans. He skilfully calculated the distance, and just as the German officer got ready to sabre him at full gallop he whispered, 'Kshi,kshi,' which every Cossack horse understands. The horse stopped dead still. The German could not stop his horse at such a speed, and just as he galloped past the Cossack 'removed' him with a deadly lunge of his lance. Seeing their leader thus overthrown, the Germans turned tail and fled." This story will remind you of the way in which Robert the Bruce slew De Bohun at the battle of Bannockburn.
There seems to be no end to the ingenuity of the Cossack when he is in a tight place. Listen to the following story: "A Cossack was captured near Lodz,[45]and, with his horse, was taken to the German camp, where man and beast were objects of curiosity. A Uhlan officer tried to put the Cossack horse through its paces, but it declined to budge. 'Let me get on with you,' suggested the Cossack. There were too many German soldiers about for escape to be dreamt of, so the officer laughingly agreed. As soon as the Cossack was in the saddle he uttered a couple of words, and the horse dashed off through the astonished Germans at full gallop. No one dared to shoot for fear of killing the officer. That night the Cossack joined his company with the Uhlan officer as his prisoner."
While I have been telling you about the course of events in the eastern theatre of war, you have, I am sure, been eager to know how our brave fellows were faring at Mons. At the end of Chapter IV. you learned that Sir John French had decided to retreat. No true soldiers ever like to retreat, least of all British soldiers; but retreat could not now be avoided unless our little army was to be completely cut off.
You will remember that Sir John received a very belated and most unexpected telegram from General Joffre at five o'clock on Sunday afternoon, August 23, 1914. This telegram informed him that the French on his right were everywhere in retreat, and that the British forces were threatened by overwhelming numbers of the enemy, who were not only advancing on their front, but were trying to turn their flanks. By this time Sir John's air scouts had assured him that General Joffre's information was correct. To hold on any longer in his present position would have been reckless folly. The only way to retrieve the fortunes of the Allies was for the British to fall back to a strong position and there make a stand.
Every prudent commander prepares for a retreat, for no general can possibly be sure of winning any battle. Napoleon once said that the general who went forward without having prepared a line of retreat deserved to be shot. Wellington, you will remember, retreated from Quatre Bras, and afterwards won one of the greatest battles of history. He had previously arranged to meet Blücher and give battle to the French at Waterloo, where there was ground favourable to him. In the same way General French had chosen and prepared a second position some miles tohis rear, and to this line he now prepared to retire. In his first dispatch he tells us that the new position extended from the fortress of Maubeuge on the east to Jenlain on the west. It was not a good position, because there were so many standing crops and buildings that the trenches could not be well placed, and the field of fire was impeded. There were, however, a few places where the big guns could be posted well.
A general order was issued that the troops were to move to the rear at sunrise on Monday, 24th August; but many of them were roused from their sleep and sent on their southward march before midnight on the 23rd. Already the heavy transports and the ambulances filled with wounded were moving as rapidly as possible towards the new position, so that the roads might be free for the infantry next day. You can easily understand that, if the British had been suddenly withdrawn, the Germans would have swooped down on them while they were marching in columns and unable to resist. Before the retirement could begin in real earnest our troops must check the Germans, and thus gain sufficient time to reach the new position before they were again attacked in force.
You will remember that Binche had been abandoned, and that Sir Douglas Haig's force had fallen back to a long swell of ground south of the village of Bray. In the gray dawn of Monday morning the British troops, who had done a certain amount of fighting during the night, stood to arms. The Germans were preparing for a great attack on the British right, and in this direction Sir John French determined to check them. He ordered the 2nd Division of the First Corps, with a strong support of more than 120 guns, to advance and make an attack on Binche, as though they were determined to recapture it. Meanwhile Smith-Dorrien's Second Corps, which had held the line of the canal, was to fall back some distance and there form a new battle line, behind which the 1st Division, which had been so hard pressed during the previous day's battle, might retire to the new position. When this division was well upon its way, the Second Corps was to retreat and form up upon its left.
From this brief account of what Sir John proposed to do, you will understand the great difficulty of the task imposed upon his army. There is nothing so difficult in warfare as to make a fighting retreat whenpressed by superior numbers. Think of what it means. While one division is beating back the enemy, another division is marching to the rear; and when it reaches a certain point it faces about and takes up the work of holding the foe, while the first division marches toitsrear and prepares to bear the brunt of attack, in order that the second division may retire and begin the business all over again. In a fighting retreat there is not a moment's rest for anybody. While one part of the army is fighting, another part is marching; and no matter how weary the marching men may be, they must be ready at any moment to form a firing line, while their comrades in front scramble out of their trenches and hurry to the rear.
In such a fighting retreat as this the greatest skill and judgment are required of the commanders. If they withdraw their men from the firing line too soon, the superior numbers of the enemy will drive them back on the marching columns and involve both in a common ruin; if they keep their men too long in the firing line, the enemy will probably destroy them or cut them off. Any error of judgment on the part of the commanders during such a retreat is almost sure to be fatal. The men, too, must be as steady as a rock. They must hold on to their positions, however hopeless the task may seem, and not budge until the word is given, even though their comrades are rapidly falling around them. Happily, in this retreat our commanders were cool and skilful, and our men were seasoned soldiers, capable of holding on with grim determination like British bulldogs.
Several times during the retreat small British detachments failed to receive the order to retire. Probably the messengers carrying the order were shot or captured on the way. Nevertheless, these groups of men fought on with never a thought of retreat, until they were reduced to a mere handful, and further resistance was useless. Other small bodies of British soldiers lost their way, and some of them wandered into the German lines and were made prisoners. One man, David M. Kay, of the 5th Lancers, strayed from his comrades, and, worn out with fatigue, fell exhausted on the road. Later on he found a resting-place in a deserted carriage. Thirty-six hours went by, and then the Germans appeared and fired on him. Though he was alone against an armed host, he returned the fire and shot down six German officers before he fell, riddled withbullets. The French in the village hard by were so impressed by his dauntless courage that they buried him where he fell, and above the mound that marks his last resting-place set up a wooden cross. For days afterwards they strewed his grave with fresh flowers.
And now the 1st Division of the First Corps began its feigned attack on Binche. One hundred and twenty British guns thundered forth, and the infantry moved briskly towards the enemy. No doubt this attack came as a great surprise to the Germans, who thought that the British had been largely reinforced in the night. While the guns were busy belching shrapnel on the Germans, the 2nd Division of the same corps was marching southwards. The attack continued until this division was well on its way, and then came the time for the 1st Division to retire. For the rest of the morning it slowly moved to the rear, holding back the enemy by powerful artillery fire, and acting as the rearguard to the whole of the British right. It reached its new position about seven in the evening.
Now we must see what was happening on the British left, where, as you will remember, the Second Corps was stationed under Smith-Dorrien. Early in the morning he fell back some five miles from the line of the Condé Canal, until his right rested on the mining village of Frameries.[46]Here he picked up a British infantry brigade, which had been brought by rail from the lines of communication, and sent it to support his left flank. His task was to hold back the enemy until the British right had arrived at the Maubeuge position. He was to keep the enemy busily engaged all day, so that they could not follow up the British retreat; and to break off the battle at the most favourable moment, so that he could retire to the part of the new line which he was to hold.
It was by no means an easy task. He had only between 30,000 and 40,000 men, while the Germans numbered more than 100,000. His position, however, was a good one. He found a low railway embankment which gave him a ready-made rampart for the right of his line, and a clear field of fire all along the front. To his left were many colliery lines, with similar embankments and buildings that gave a good deal of cover, and beyond them fields of standing corn.
All the long morning the British held their front against attack after attack of the enemy, though an awful storm of shrapnel continually burst upon them. The weakest part of the line was the left, where the Germans were trying to work round the flank. So fiercely were our troops also assailed round about Frameries, that about half-past seven in the morning their general sent an urgent message to the Commander-in-chief begging for support. Sir John French had no reserves except General Allenby's cavalry division, and these he now sent to help the hard-pressed division.
The first of the cavalry to go into action were the 4th Dragoon Guards, the 9th Lancers, and the 18th Hussars, who were under the command of Colonel De Lisle, the hero of many a dashing charge in South Africa. At first the troopers fought on foot, but soon Colonel De Lisle thought that he saw a good chance of charging the flank of the German infantry. The men of the 9th Lancers were ordered to mount and prepare to charge, while the other cavalry regiments acted as supports.
Away galloped the lancers, shouting with joy at the prospect of coming to hand-grips with the enemy. Alas! all unknown to them the Germans had protected their flank with many lines of barbed wire. When the lancers were about five hundred yards from the enemy's flank they found themselves held up by this terrible entanglement. They tried hard to break through, but in vain, and all the while a death-storm raged about them from rifle and battery. "We simply galloped like rabbits in front of a line of guns," said a lancer who survived, "men and horses falling in all directions." The enemy could not be reached, and nothing could live in that zone of death. The lancers were forced to retire, and as they did so the guns caught them on the flank and made awful havoc amongst them. Only a hundred lancers returned out of eight hundred and fifty. It was the charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava all over again—just as gallant, just as thrilling, and just as useless!
The remnants of the regiment, including the squadron of Captain Francis Grenfell, found shelter under the lee of a light railway embankment. Here they found an artillery officer and a dozen gunners of the 119th Royal Field Artillery, whose battery had been put out of action byGerman shells. They were the sole survivors. Captain Grenfell had already been badly wounded in the hand and the leg, but he was determined to prevent the guns from falling into the hands of the enemy. He rode out amidst the hailstorm of shot and shell to see if there was a way by which they could be withdrawn to the British lines, and having discovered a road, walked his horse back so that his men might not think the risk too great.
As soon as he was back under the shelter of the embankment he called for volunteers. He reminded his lancers that the 9th had saved the guns at Maiwand,[47]and had more than once come to the rescue of artillery in South Africa. Every man responded to his call; all were eager to have a hand in this glorious exploit. Leaving their horses behind them, they rushed out to the stranded guns; and, working with a will, hauled one of them over the dead bodies of the drivers, on and on, until it was safe from capture. Again and again they returned under a merciless fire, until every gun was out of danger. Hardly had the last gun been moved into safety when the German infantry appeared. The guns had been saved in the very nick of time.
Captain Grenfell was afterwards awarded the Victoria Cross for this splendid deed of courage and resolution. Hats off to Captain Grenfell!
By midday the First Corps was so far in the rear that Smith-Dorrien could safely begin his retreat. He fell back slowly and steadily, now and then halting to beat off an attack, and by nightfall reached his new position, after having suffered great losses. The First Corps lay to the right of the French village of Bavai, a place of ironworks and marble quarries. Its flank was protected by the fortress of Maubeuge. The Second Corps lay to the left, holding a line which extended to the village of Jenlain. The fortress was a sufficient defence for the right flank, and Allenby's cavalry division covered the left flank.
On that Monday evening, when some of our men were beginning to entrench themselves, and to hope that a stand would be made against the enemy on the morrow, they learned, to their great disappointment, that by five the next morning they were to be on the road again, trudging towardsanother position which lay to the south-west. They were under the impression that their retirement was at an end, and that the next day would see them making an advance. Little did they know that they had only begun their retreat, and that they would have to tramp many a long, weary mile before that happy hour arrived. Their disappointment soon vanished when they heard that Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien appeared as bright and cheerful as ever. "Things can't be bad," they said, "or the general would be looking more glum than that."
Why was a further retreat necessary? The Commander-in-chief knew what his men did not know—that the French on his right were still retiring, and that von Kluck was bringing up more and more men in the hope of turning his left. He knew that unless he continued his march southwards he would probably be forced into the fortress of Maubeuge, and his knowledge of history assured him that once an army takes shelter behind the guns of a fortress, and is there shut in, it runs but little chance of ever getting out again. You remember what happened at Metz in 1870. Bazaine was forced into that fortress, and was so hemmed in that he had to surrender with 170,000 men. Sir John French was not the man to take any such risk, so he ordered the retreat to continue.
By sunrise on Tuesday morning our wearied soldiers were tramping along the dusty roads towards the south-west. As the sun rose higher and higher in the sky the heat became more and more intense, and the men felt the strain very much; but they plodded on with that stubbornness which they always display when they are in a tight place. The First Corps marched by roads to the east of the Forest of Mormal, a woodland about one-fifth of the area of our New Forest, and the Second Corps by roads to the west of it. Allenby's cavalry, which covered the exposed western flank, had a few skirmishes with Uhlans; but the Germans did not harass the retreat to any great extent.
An army chaplain gives us a very vivid account of what he saw during the retirement. He writes as follows:—
"Horses and men, transport and guns, an endless procession they passed, blackened with grime, bearing evident signs of the past few days' fighting. But the men were in good spirits. They were retreating, but this was not a defeated army. 'Wait till we get to a position we can hold, and then we'll give them socks,' was the sort of thing one heard from the ranks as they passed. It was simply glorious country through which we marched—the forestof Mormal, picturesque villages, quaint old farmhouses, and village churches dating from the twelfth century; and everywhere the roads lined with fine avenues of trees—sometimes tall poplars, and at other times apple and plum trees laden with fruit. But the country was deserted, crops standing in the fields, the villages empty, the houses locked and barricaded."
"Horses and men, transport and guns, an endless procession they passed, blackened with grime, bearing evident signs of the past few days' fighting. But the men were in good spirits. They were retreating, but this was not a defeated army. 'Wait till we get to a position we can hold, and then we'll give them socks,' was the sort of thing one heard from the ranks as they passed. It was simply glorious country through which we marched—the forestof Mormal, picturesque villages, quaint old farmhouses, and village churches dating from the twelfth century; and everywhere the roads lined with fine avenues of trees—sometimes tall poplars, and at other times apple and plum trees laden with fruit. But the country was deserted, crops standing in the fields, the villages empty, the houses locked and barricaded."
While the columns were on the march German aeroplanes frequently flew over them. A private of the 1st Royal West Kent Regiment thus describes a sight which greatly interested him and his comrades:—
"I saw a duel in the air between French and German aeroplanes. It was wonderful to see the Frenchman manoeuvre 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."
"I saw a duel in the air between French and German aeroplanes. It was wonderful to see the Frenchman manoeuvre 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."
The position to which the British were now slowly retiring was in the neighbourhood of Le Cateau,[48]to the south-east of Cambrai.[49]Your geography book tells you that Cambrai gave its name to the fine linen or muslin which was first made in the fifteenth century, and is known as cambric. Le Cateau has important woollen and merino spinning-mills, and figures in British history as the place where peace was signed between England, France, and Spain in the second year of Queen Elizabeth's reign. The proposed British lines extended from Cambrai through Le Cateau to Landrecies,[50]on the Sambre. Landrecies is famous as the birthplace of Dupleix,[51]who founded French power in India. There is a bronze statue to his memory in the little town.
The ground had been partly prepared and entrenched on the previous day; but Sir John French tells us in a dispatch that, owing to the ever-increasing numbers of the enemy, he had grave doubts as to the wisdom of making a stand before he had shaken off the foe. Early as the start had been, it was late in the day before the first of the troops from the north reached the new line, and night had fallen when the last of them came in. By this time a new British division had reached Le Cateau. It had been brought up by train, and was now hurried off to protect the left flank of the retreat.
The moment our weary men reached their position they were set to work entrenching their front. Then they had supper, and lay down for thatlong sleep which they sorely needed. There was a gap in the British line which Sir John French meant to fill up, but "the men were exhausted, and could get no farther on without rest." By nine o'clock all was peaceful along the front of the Second Corps, and on the right the men of the First Corps were settling down for a night's rest. Half an hour later there came a sudden alarm. The silence was broken by the zip-zip of rifles, the roar of guns, and the whine of shells as they flew towards our lines. The Germans were making a night attack in force on the British right.
The night was dark; the sky was thick with clouds; a drizzle of rain set in, and soon developed into a downpour. Behind their cavalry screen the enemy had pushed forward a vanguard of North Germans, who had marched rapidly through the leafy shades of the Forest of Mormal, where they were hidden from our airmen, and were able to advance with less fatigue than along the sun-baked roads amidst clouds of choking dust. The Germans were, therefore, fairly fresh when they formed up along the margin of forest which lies close upon the outskirts of Landrecies. They advanced in heavy column through the pouring rain and the blackness of the night, holding their fire and drawing nearer and nearer, confident that the harassed and worn-out British could make no long stand against them.
The 4th British Brigade, consisting of the 2nd Grenadiers, the 2nd and 3rd Coldstreams and the 1st Irish Guards, held Landrecies. About 9:30 the pickets of the Coldstreams, who were guarding the road from the forest, heard the dull tramp of armed men. They cried out, "Who goes there?" and a voice replied in French, "We are the French. Do not fire." The interpreter with the British was not satisfied with the accent of the man who replied, and he asked the officer to repeat the challenge. This he did, and was at once knocked off his feet by the foremost "Frenchman." Then the Germans rushed forward, swept away the pickets, and poured into the narrow streets of the town.
For a few minutes there was confusion amongst the Guards, who were caught unawares. Then their splendid discipline told. They opened a brisk fire, and soon the first line of the Germans was hurled back. On they came again in enormous numbers, until the streets were throngedwith them. The Guards lay on the ground across the road, and a stream of bullets flew from their rifles; while the machine guns, some on the road and others on the housetops, tore blood-red lanes through the dense masses of the advancing enemy.
The Germans were beaten back, but they rallied and came on again, while other columns tried to work round to the rear of the town through side streets. Everywhere they found their way blocked by the British, and all night long the fight raged. Hand-to-hand combats were frequent, and terrible struggles were witnessed in the flickering light of the houses that had been fired by the German shells.
German batteries pushed up close to the town. Some of the guns began firing at the Coldstreams almost at point-blank range. For a moment, in the midst of this death hail, our gallant fellows wavered. A major, however, rallied them. "Don't retire, boys," he yelled; "come on up." And the men advanced again. Well-aimed shots killed the enemy's gunners, and the bodies of a thousand German dead cumbered the streets.
Von Kluck's vanguard had been checked; it had hoped to rush the town easily, but it had miscalculated the strength of British valour and endurance. Shortly after midnight the Germans knew that they had failed, and gradually their firing died away. Then the Guards flung themselves down amidst the flaming houses and the dead and dying, and snatched what slumber they could.
While the Guards at Landrecies were adding a new and glorious page to their proud record, there was heavy fighting at Maroilles,[52]a little to the north-east, where Sir Douglas Haig's 1st Division was holding a difficult position. A message was sent to Sir John French begging for reinforcements. He had got into touch with two French reserve divisions on his right, and now he urged them to come up with all speed. To the men struggling desperately at Maroilles the French seemed terribly slow in arriving. At length, to their great relief, they heard the sound of distant firing, and knew that support was at hand. Partly by the help of the French, but mainly owing to the skilful generalship of Sir Douglas Haig, the First Corps was withdrawn from its perilous position.
At Cambrai, the newly-joined brigade which was protecting the left flank was also in action. A soldier of the Connaught Rangers thus describes the fighting in which he was engaged:—
"It was a grand time we had, and I wouldn't have missed it for lashins of money."It was near to Cambrai where we had our best time."The Germans kept pressing our rearguard all the time, and at last our colonel could stand it no longer, so the word was passed round that we were to fight. There were at least five to one, and we were in danger of being cut off."With that up got the colonel. 'Rangers of Connaught,' says he, 'the eyes of all Ireland are on you to-day, and I know you never could disgrace the ould country by allowing Germans to beat you while you have arms in your hands and hearts in your breasts. Up, then, and at them, and if you don't give them the soundest thrashing they ever got, you needn't look me in the face again in this world or the next.'"And we went for them with just what you would know of a prayer to the Mother of our Lord to be merciful to the loved ones at home if we should fall in the fight. We charged through and through them, until they broke and ran like frightened hares in terror of hounds."After that taste of the fighting quality of the Rangers they never troubled us any more that day."
"It was a grand time we had, and I wouldn't have missed it for lashins of money.
"It was near to Cambrai where we had our best time.
"The Germans kept pressing our rearguard all the time, and at last our colonel could stand it no longer, so the word was passed round that we were to fight. There were at least five to one, and we were in danger of being cut off.
"With that up got the colonel. 'Rangers of Connaught,' says he, 'the eyes of all Ireland are on you to-day, and I know you never could disgrace the ould country by allowing Germans to beat you while you have arms in your hands and hearts in your breasts. Up, then, and at them, and if you don't give them the soundest thrashing they ever got, you needn't look me in the face again in this world or the next.'
"And we went for them with just what you would know of a prayer to the Mother of our Lord to be merciful to the loved ones at home if we should fall in the fight. We charged through and through them, until they broke and ran like frightened hares in terror of hounds.
"After that taste of the fighting quality of the Rangers they never troubled us any more that day."
While our worn and wearied men were sleeping the death-like sleep of exhaustion, Sir John French spent some of the most anxious hours of his life. He had intended that the retreat should be continued before dawn, and that Smith-Dorrien's corps, with Allenby's cavalry, should hold back the enemy on the left while Haig's corps on the right pushed southwards. Now he knew that this was impossible. Before daybreak he learnt that the enemy was preparing to throw the bulk of his strength against Smith-Dorrien; some three hundred thousand Germans were moving up to encircle his little force, while six or seven hundred guns were being brought into position against it. Sir John had no supports to send to his left, and he had earnestly besought the commander of a French cavalry corps on his right to come to his aid. Alas! the horses of this corps were worn out, and the general was unable to move. Smith-Dorrien's corps must depend on itself, and stand or fall by its own exertions. If it fell, nothing could save the British army from destruction or surrender. The left of the Allies would be gone, and the retreating French would be at the mercy of hordes of Germans. The prospect was enough to make the bravest man tremble.
Now dawned the fateful morning of 26th August 1914. The rain had ceased; the bright sun shone out; thin mists rose from the wet fields and gave promise of a sultry day. At sunrise the German guns began to thunder, and a shrapnel fire burst upon the British as though "turned on through a hose." The Germans were now determined to make an end of the British army. It had thwarted them again and again; it had refused to be beaten, and it would not yield. To-day, however, was to see the end of it. By nightfall the news of another Sedan would be flashed to all parts of the rejoicing Fatherland.
Our men had no time to entrench properly. Most of them lay in unprotected fields; nevertheless they showed, as Sir John French tells us, "a magnificent front" to the terrific fire that burst upon them. Smith-Dorrien had been ordered to break off the battle and retire at the earliest possible moment, but he soon saw that he could not obey orders without the gravest risk. He must fight on and beat off the Germans before he could retire in safety.
All day long the British infantry stood firm, firing steadily, and hurling back attack after attack of the enemy. Six times the Germans tried to break the British line, and six times they were foiled. German cavalry attempted to charge them, and once the horsemen of the famous Prussian Guard—the proudest and finest of all the Kaiser's troops—burst through an opening in the German firing line and dashed down on them, only to retire with heavy loss. Another German cavalry regiment rode right into the 1st Brigade, and was only driven back after a desperate hand-to-hand struggle, in which men and horses were mixed up in frightful confusion.