"We got the order to go off and join a battery under Colonel ——'s orders. We came en route under heavy shrapnel fire on the road. I gave the order to walk, as the horses had hardly had any food for a couple of days, and also I wanted to steady the show. I can't say I enjoyed walking along at the head with old —— behind me, especially when six shrapnel burst right in front of us. We got there just in time, rushed into action, and opened fire on a German counterattack at short range, destroying the lot so far as I could see.

"We then moved slightly to another position to take on a valley, down which they were attacking, and were at it the whole day, firing about 900 rounds into quantities of German attacks and counterattacks. They cannot stand the shrapnel, and the moment I got one on them they turned and bolted back to the wood.

"I got on to their trenches; one shell dropped in. [It would appear from this that some of the advance guards of the new defense line were either intrenching or occupying trenches made during the battles of the Marne, probably the latter, or else the writer is speaking of the actions of his battery on the 10th as well as the 12th before the invaders had retreated across the Marne.] I was enfilading them, and they tore out of the trenches, and so on, each trench in turn, and fell in hundreds. Also, through the range finder, —— saw I'd hit a machine gun, and they had abandoned it and another. So it went all day, shells and bullets humming around, but only one of my staff horses was hit. Our infantry advancing and retiring—others advancing and coming back—Germans doing likewise, a hellish din of shell fire, and me pouring in fire whenever I could see them.

"At last I got six shrapnel into a wood and cleared a heap of them out and got into them with shrapnel. It was awful! The sergeant major put his hand up to his head and said: "Oh, sir, it's terrible!" That seemed to settle them, and at last we saw the infantry advancing to their positions without resistance.

"Now was my chance. I determined to get those machine guns if I could, as otherwise the infantry would. So I left —— in command and got the trumpeter, sergeant major, and six men with six rifles, and went forward 'to reconnoiter,' as I reported to —— after I had gone. It was a weird ride, through thick black woods, holding my revolver ready, going in front with the little trumpeter behind and the others following some way in the rear. We passed some very bad sights, and knew the woods were full of Germans who were afraid to get away on account of the dreaded shell fire. We got in front of our infantry, who were going to fire at us, but I shouted just in time.

"At last we came to the edge of a wood, and in front of us, about 200 yards away, was a little cup-shaped copse, and the enemy's trenches with machine guns a little farther on. I felt sure this wood was full of Germans, as I had seen them go in earlier. I started to gallop for it, and the others followed. Suddenly about fifty Germans bolted out, firing at us. I loosed off my revolver as fast as I could, and —— loosed off his rifle from the saddle. They must have thought we were a regiment of cavalry, for, except for a few, they suddenly yelled and bolted. I stopped and dismounted my lot to fire at them, to make sure that they didn't change their minds.

"I waited for a lull, and mounted all my lot behind the bushes and made them spring as I gave the word to gallop for cover to the woods where the Welsh company was. There I got ——, who understands them (the guns), and an infantryman who volunteered to help, and —— and I ran up to the Maxims and took out the breech mechanism of both and one of the belts, and carried away one whole Maxim. We couldn't manage the other.

"We got back very slowly on account of the gun, and the men went wild with excitement that we had got one gun complete and the mechanism and belt of the other."

With such incidents the pursuit of the Germans across the Marne and to the Aisne was replete, and so thoroughly did the advance French and English troops scour that country that when the morning of September 13, 1914, dawned there was scarcely a German soldier left on the southern side of the Aisne, west of Rheims.

The administration of the German armies meanwhile had been markedly changed. In the turning movement on the Marne the plan was clearly outlined, each commander had his instructions, and that was all. But with the need for changes of plan there was need for a directing head, and Field Marshal van Heeringen was sent in a hurry to take charge of the Aisne. This placed both General von Kluck and General von Buelow into subordinate positions. Field Marshal von Heeringen held a deserved reputation as one of the most brilliant as well as one of the most iron-willed of the German military leaders. He had been the backbone of the crown prince's movement against Troyon, a movement which, given a day or two longer, might have meant the capture of Verdun.

This was not the only factor that was framing up to give the German armies a decided advantage. The essential factor of the Aisne was the arrival of General von Zwehl and his guns. On September 13, 1914, at 6 a. m., Zwehl arrived in Laon, and in less than an hour he was in action on the Aisne front. The story of General von Zwehl and his guns is essential to an understanding of the causes that rendered the British victory of the Aisne a barren and a fruitless victory at best.

The week of September 5-12, 1914, witnessed the entire series of the battles of the Marne, which drove the Germans across the Marne and across the Aisne, as well as a German victory which exerted almost as powerful an influence in favor of the invaders as the check at the Marne did for the defenders. This victory was the fall of Maubeuge. It is going too far to say—as several military writers have done—that General von Zwehl saved Germany, and that unless he had arrived as opportunely as he did the "German retreat to the Aisne valley would have been changed into a disastrous and overwhelming rout." But it is not going too far to say that the successful holding of the Aisne line was due to the victor of Maubeuge.

General von Zwehl was one of the iron-jawed battle-scarred warriors of 1870, a man with a will as metallic as his own siege guns, and a man who could no more be deflected from his purpose than a shell could be diverted in its flight. He had been set to reduce Maubeuge and he had done so with speed and with thoroughness. Maubeuge was not protected by open-air earthworks, but by a circle of armor-plate concrete forts. To the mighty siege guns handled by General von Zwehl, these were no trouble, for Von Zwehl had not only the heavy batteries attached to the Seventh Army Reserve, but he also had a number of Von Kluck's guns and the majority of General von Buelow's, neither of whom was expected to need siege guns in the forward drive where mobility was an essential. In addition to this, General von Zwehl also had the great siege train that had been prepared for the reduction of Paris. What chance had Maubeuge against such a potency?

On September 8, 1914, word reached General von Zwehl that the forward drive had failed, that the main armies had been beaten back and that he was to bring up his guns as rapidly as possible to cover the retreat. As rapidly as he could, to General von Zwehl, meant but one thing—to get there! He collected 9,000 reserve troops, which was almost immediately swelled by another 9,000, and with a total of 18,000 troops he started his siege trains for the town of Laon, where Field Marshal von Heeringen had taken up his headquarters. The weather turned bad, rendering the heavy guns extremely difficult to handle, but there could be no delay, no explanations, to General von Zwehl. If a gun was to be brought it was to be brought and that was all about it! Four days and three nights of almost continuous marching is killing. The German commander cared nothing for that. The guns must be kept moving. Could he get them there on time? In the last twenty-four hours of the march, his 18,000 troops covered 41 miles and they arrived in Laon at six o'clock in the morning of September 13, 1914, and were in action an hour later. The problem, therefore, before the English and French at the Aisne, was not the carrying of the river against a disheartened and retreating army, but the carrying of the river against a well-thought-out and forceful plan—a plan, moreover, backed up by the most powerful artillery that the world has ever seen.

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CHAPTER XXI

THE BRITISH AT THE AISNE

In the battles of the Marne, the brunt of the fighting had been borne mainly by the French armies, but the major part of work of the battle of the Aisne was borne by the British Expeditionary Force. Sir John French wasted no time. Saturday night, September 12, 1914, was a night of labor for engineers and gunners. The bridge trains belonging to the First and Second Army Corps were ordered to the edge of the river at daybreak, and as soon as the first gleam of dawn appeared in the sky, the heroic effort began.

At the risk of seeming a little detailed, in order to understand the somewhat involved maneuvers by which the British won the crossing of the Aisne, instead of dealing with the advance of the British army as a unit, in the manner that was done in discussing the battles of the Marne, their activities will be shown as army corps: the Third Army Corps to the westward, under General Pulteney; the Second Army Corps, under Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien, and the First Army Corps to the eastward, under Sir Douglas Haig, all, of course, under the general direction of Sir John French.

The British had no means of knowing what was in front of them. There was only one way to find out—a way, alas, often costly, a way that in every campaign costs thousands of lives apparently fruitlessly, and that is a frontal attack. Down over the slopes of the southern bank, into the bright, smiling river valley, where the little white villages in the distance were hiding their dilapidated state, marched the British army. Not a sign of activity showed itself upon the farther shore. A summer haze obscured objects at a distance, but, shortly before nine o'clock, the German batteries opened fire with a roar that was appalling.

The Third Army Corps, after a brief artillery duel, advanced on Soissons to cover the work of the engineers who were building a pontoon bridge for the French troops. The German fire was deadly, yet though more than half their men fell, the engineers put the pontoon bridge across. German howitzer fire, from behind the ridge, however, soon destroyed the bridge. The Turcos crossed the river in rowboats and had a fierce but indecisive struggle in the streets of the medieval city. Meanwhile, with the failure of the pontoon bridge at Soissons, General Pulteney struck to the northeast along the road to Venizel. The bridge at that point had been blown up, but the British sappers repaired it sufficiently to set the Eleventh Brigade across, and even, despite the lurid hail of shot and shell, four regiments gathered at Bucy-de-Long by one o'clock on that Sunday, September 13, 1914. Over the heads of these courageous regiments towered the great hill of Vregny, a veritable Gibraltar of heavy guns with numerous machine guns along the wooded edge. There was no protection, and no shelter against the terrible German Maxim fire, so that the moment came when to attempt further advance meant instant annihilation. Still, under cover of the success of the Eleventh Brigade the engineers built a pontoon bridge at Venizel and the Twelth Brigade crossed to Bucy-de-Long, with a number of the lighter artillery. As there was absolutely no shelter, to storm the height at that point was impossible, and to remain where they were was merely to court sudden death, so the Twelfth Brigade worked over the slopes to the ravine at Chipres, where they intrenched.

The task in front of the Second Army Corps was no less difficult. The bridge at Conde was too strongly defended to be taken by assault, as Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien speedily found out, so he divided his forces into two parts, one of which was directed at the village of Missy, two and one half miles west of Conde, while the other concentrated its attack on a crossing at the town of Vailly, three miles east of Conde. Both detachments made good their crossing, but the regiments that found themselves near Missy also realized that hasty, very hasty intrenchment was imperative, lest every one of them should be blown into kingdom come before half an hour had passed by. During the night some troops were rafted over, three men at a time, and these encamped near Missy. It was a false move. For sixteen days thereafter the British troops had to remain in their dugouts, a large part of the time without food or water. To show a head above the trench was sudden death.

The regiments that crossed the river at Vailly found themselves in even a worse plight. No sooner had they crossed than the bombardment began, and the Germans knew every range in the place accurately. More than that, the line of trenches was open to enfilade fire from a hidden battery, which did not unmask until the trench was filled with soldiers. This Eighth Brigade had to retire in disorder.

The Fifth Brigade, attached to the First Army Corps under Sir Douglas Haig, an Irish and Scotch group of regiments, were the most successful of all. The bridge at Pont Arcy had been destroyed, but still one of its girders spanned the stream. It would have been tricky walking, even under ordinary circumstances, but nerve racking to attempt, when from every hill and wood and point of land, Maxims, machine guns and a steady rifle fire are concentrated on the man crossing that one girder. By the afternoon, the engineers attached to the First Army Corps had also established a pontoon bridge, and the whole brigade crossed the river in the evening and dug itself in.

Late on Sunday afternoon, however, a weak spot showed itself in the German line and Sir John French threw the First Division of the First Army Corps across the river near Bourg. Some of the infantry crossed by a small pontoon bridge and a brigade of cavalry started to follow them. When they were in mid-stream, however, a terrific storm of fire smote them. The cavalry pushed on, but could not ride up the hill in the teeth of the bombardment. The infantry were eager to go, but nothing was to be gained by the move, so the cavalry returned over the pontoon, by a most extraordinary occurrence not having lost a single member in the three hours it had been scouting on the hostile side of the Aisne. The infantry intrenched themselves solidly to await the morning.

The main forces of the First Division were especially lucky. Using the canal aqueduct they made their way toward Bourg, and drove the Germans back toward the main ridge.

More than three-quarters of the summit of the ridge had been won, the entire Second Infantry Brigade was across, the Twenty-fifth Artillery Brigade was across, ready to support, and General Bulfin, instead of tiring his men by making them intrench there, ordered them to rest, throwing their outposts in front of the hamlet of Moulins.

This ended the first day's fighting on the battle of the Aisne. Of the Third Army Corps, a small body of men had reached Chipres. There they had been joined by a small force from the Second Army Corps. In the First Army a strong detachment dug itself in not far from Pont d'Arcy. The incomparably superior position of the Germans, their huge numbers, their possession of innumerable guns, made even this shaky tenure dangerous, though all held on. Sir John French had tested and found out the German strength and the result was not encouraging.

Although this repulse of the British army at every point was a decided victory for the German gunners, Field Marshal von Heeringen had been impressed by two things: the courage of the British attacking army, and the destructiveness of the French artillery on the south bank of the river. The German commander withdrew all his men from the advanced trenches on between the ridge and the river, keeping, however, strongly intrenched detachments of riflemen at all commanding points with powerful artillery as their support.

Sunday night was a veritable pandemonium of destruction and tumult. All night long, without cessation, the batteries of both sides, knowing exactly their opponents' range, fired perpetually. All night long searchlight bombs were thrown. All night long, golden and red and yellow streams of flame or the sudden jagged flash of an explosion lit up the black smoke of burning buildings and fields in the valley, or showed the white puff-like low clouds of the bursting shrapnel. Not for an instant did the roar diminish, not for a second was the kindly veil of night left unrent by a fissure of vengeful flame. Yet, all night long, as ceaselessly as the great guns poured out their angry fury, so did men pour out their indomitable will, and in that hell light of battle flame engineers labored to construct bridges, small bodies of troops moved forward to join their comrades in the trenches who had been able to make a footing the day before, and all night long, those ghastly yet merciful accompaniments of a battle field—the ambulance corps—carried on their work of relief. The searchlights swept up and down the valley, like great eyes that watched to give direction to the venom of war.

At three o'clock in the morning of Monday, September 14, 1914, two regiments were sent to capture a sugar factory strongly held by the enemy. That sugar factory became a maelstrom. Three more regiments had to be brought up and finally the guards, and even thus heavily overpowered, the Germans successfully defended it until noon. They sold their lives dearly—those defenders. That sugar factory stood on that Monday as did Hogoumont at Waterloo. It delayed the advance of the entire First Corps, but at four o'clock in the afternoon, Sir Douglas Haig ordered a general advance. The last afternoon and evening scored a distinct success for the English arms, and when at last it grew absolutely too dark to see, that corps held a position stretching from Troton to La Cour de Soupir. Its chief importance, however, was that it gave the Allies a strongly intrenched position on the plateau itself.

It was of this day's fighting that, almost a month later, Sir John French was able to say in his official dispatches:

"The action of the First Corps on this day under the direction and command of Sir Douglas Haig was of so skillful, bold, and decisive a character that he gained positions which alone have enabled me to maintain my position for more than three weeks of very severe fighting on the north bank of the river."

The offensive of this entire movement was intrusted to the First Corps. The artillery strength of the armies of General von Kluck and Von Buelow was such that it was almost impossible for the Second and Third British Army Corps to assail them by a charge up the bluff. But, meantime, the French had not been idle. On September 13, 1914, General d'Esperey's Fifth Army crossed the Aisne east of Bourg, and on the following day commenced the assault on the Craonne plateau.

The next day, Tuesday, September 15, 1914, was a day of several small victories for the Germans. General von Zwehl was a hard hitter and a quick hitter. Having disposed of his artillery where he thought it could be of the most use, he aided Field Marshal von Heeringen with counsels of counterattack, counsels that the Field Marshal fully indorsed. The Sixth French Army under General Manoury, at the extreme west of the line, was the chief point of attack. Though well placed on a strong position at Nampcel, the Germans drove the French before them like clouds before the wind, recaptured the spurs, forced the French backward through the Morsain ravine and back to their original crossing place of the Aisne between Viv and Fontenoy.

The Third Corps of the British suffered heavy loss of life without any opportunity to retaliate, for it was too thoroughly and completely dominated by the guns of Vregny.

The lull of Wednesday, September 16, 1914, was a foretaste of the deadlock which was gradually forming. The French Fifth Army had been compelled to abandon all idea of a direct attack upon the Craonne plateau, the natural position being far too strong. The Second and Third Corps of the British army could do nothing. Sir John French, though eager to push the advantage, secured by his position on the heights, was well aware that such a move was not possible unless the entire French line was ready to cooperate with him, for, if he tried to drive down upon the ridge of the Aisne, or, for that matter, tried to flank it, the line of the Duke of Wuerttemberg would bend back upon him and nip him in a way which would render escape difficult.

A sudden recrudescence of activity on the western front gave rise to the hope that the deadlock might yet be avoided, that the two great armies might come to handgrips again. Bolstered up by reenforcements, General Manoury checked the German attack and regained all the ground that had been lost. Concentrating on the need of driving the invaders out of the quarries of Autreches, the French succeeded. This eased the western end of the line, and the Second and Third British Army Corps were left in peace.

Friday, September 18, 1914, is again a date of moment, not because anything of importance was transacted, but because nothing was transacted. It was a day of realizations. It was a day that convinced the Allies that the German positions could not be broken down by frontal attack, just as the battles of the Marne had convinced the Germans that the road to Paris was not yet open. The six days from September 12 to 18 had revealed beyond preadventure that the German line along the ridge of the Aisne was not merely a convenient halting place for a rear-guard action, but that it was formed of lines of strong fortifications, almost impregnable and absolutely beyond the hope of storming. The forces were too evenly balanced for any concerted action to produce a desired effect, the possession of air scouts eliminated any question of a surprise. In other words, the conclusion was borne in upon the Allies with full force that, much as the German plan had failed at Marne, so had the Allies' plan failed at Aisne. The crossing of the Aisne, the winning of the heights by Sir Douglas Haig were victories—not only that, but they were full of that glory which goes with successful daring—yet they led nowhere. The plan of the Allies must be abandoned and a new one formed. This decision of a change of strategical plan, then, closed the Allies' frontal attack upon the position of the Central Powers on the ridge of the Maise, and marks the end of the first phase of the battle of the Aisne.

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CHAPTER XXII

BOMBARDMENT OF RHEIMS AND SOISSONS

To be considered almost as a part of the advance upon the Aisne were the bombardments of Soissons and of Rheims, the former being a part of the first phase of the Aisne battles, the second belonging to the second phase. Soissons, it will be remembered, lies at the western end of the high bluffs that form a bank to the River Aisne for over fifty miles. It is on the high road between Rheims and Compiegne, and on the south side of the Aisne, and consequently returned into French hands on September 13, 1914. No sooner did the French armies enter the little town, however, than Soissons, dominated by the twin towers of its ancient cathedral, became a target for the concentrated fire of the Germans, whose artillery, it will be remembered, had been supplemented that morning by the huge guns brought on from Maubeuge by the magnificent forced marches of General von Zwehl. By noon the lower half of that once lovely city was in flames. On every hand walls collapsed as though they had been made of pasteboard. Women and children were buried beneath the ruins or blown to pieces as they fled into the streets. One of the towers of the cathedral was damaged, and there was not a corner of the town that was safe from fire. The French batteries tried to cover the city and silence the batteries opposing them on the north front of the river, but the odds were too great.

All day long, and throughout the greater part of every night, for the first three days of the battle of the Aisne, September 13, 14, and 15, 1914, the bombardment of Soissons was continual, and, in addition to being a wreck, the town became a shambles.

Closely allied to the Soissons bombardment, and occurring simultaneously with the battle of the Aisne, was the series of engagements occurring in the quarries around Autreches and Coucy-le-Chateau, fought by advanced bodies in front of the right wing of the German army encamped on the ridge of the Aisne. These engagements developed the illuminating fact that during times of peace German capital had been invested in these quarries and that the foresight of the Germans had led them to fortify these quarries, so that they were veritable fortresses, and indeed, formed a continuation of that line of defense the crowning point of which was the Aisne cliff near the plateau of the Craonne. During the days when the British First Army Corps, under Sir Douglas Haig, was performing the astounding feat of crossing the Aisne and holding the land thus gained against a veritable tempest of counterattack, these stone quarries were taken and lost again every few hours. The French infantry of General Manoury's army, far less exhausted than the harassed regiments of General von Kluck's forces, found little difficulty in forcing the Germans back from Autreches, but, no sooner were they well established, than the roar of the combined guns of General von Kluck and General von Zwehl would make the position untenable, and under cover of that appalling rain of death, the German infantry would creep back to reoccupy the positions from which they had been ousted by the bayonets only a few hours before. It was the German tactics of machine vs. men, a direful and cruel battle plan to the opposing forces.

Upon the day that the advance of the British definitely stopped, or, in other words, when General Joffre and Sir John French realized that further effort against the defenses of the Germans on the ridge beyond the Aisne would only mean loss of life to no gainful purpose, the bombardment of Rheims began. The old city had suffered severely during the German advance upon the Marne. Still, it had not been pillaged, and when the Germans retreated across the Aisne the old city held much of its glory unimpaired. Still the flawless beauty of Rheims Cathedral stood guard over the ancient city.

Then on September 18, 1914, the shelling of the city began and a bombardment of the most terrific character continued for ten days. Rheims Cathedral, which the French declared was outside the zone of direct fire and was used as a hospital with the Red Cross flag flying, and which the Germans asserted to have been used for a signal station and to have been surrounded by gun stations, was said to have been demolished by the German guns. This act created a sensation throughout the world, for Rheims Cathedral was like a gem from Paradise, regarded by most art lovers as one of the most beautiful buildings in the world. Every civilized country was shaken with grief when the news of the disaster to Rheims Cathedral was published.

It must be admitted that military necessity knows no law, and it must also be admitted that human life has a valuation to be expressed in terms far higher than any building however beautiful. In an inspired article written by Major General von Ditfurth, in the "Hamburger Nachrichten," this latter point is clearly brought out. He wrote:

"It is of no consequence if all the monuments ever created, all the pictures ever painted, and all the buildings ever created by the great architects of the world were destroyed, if by their destruction we promote Germany's victory over her enemies.... The commonest, ugliest stone placed to mark the burial place of a German grenadier is a more glorious and perfect monument than all the cathedrals in Europe put together.

"Let neutral peoples and our enemies cease their empty chatter, which is no better than the twittering of birds. Let them cease their talk about the cathedral at Rheims and about all the churches and castles of France which have shared its fate. These things do not interest us."

Opinions have naturally differed concerning Von Ditfurth's appraisal of the comparative values of Rheims Cathedral and the tombstone of a German grenadier, but even the champions of military necessity were glad to learn later that the cathedral still stood, though much damaged. If Rheims were far away from the line of march, and if the Germans had deliberately gone thither for the purpose of destroying it—as some prejudiced accounts seem to state—then there would not be room for two opinions. Wanton vandalism is vandalism largely in the ratio that it is wanton. But, to be perfectly impartial, it must be admitted that the second phase of the battle of the Aisne made the bombardment of Rheims a military necessity. To make this clear requires a setting forth of the new strategical plan developed by Field Marshal von Heeringen upon the collapse of the plan for the drive on Paris, which was foiled by the battles of the Marne.

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CHAPTER XXIII

SECOND PHASE OF BATTLE OF THE AISNE

The second phase of the battle of the Aisne contained two factors. One, the simplest, was the maintenance of that line of defense against any force that could be brought up against it by the Allies. It meant the ability to hold strongly fortified positions against all odds. The history of the trenches that winter, of which more will be said later, reveals the extent to which the Germans succeeded, aided by the iron craft of the old Prussian fighter General von Zwehl.

The other factor depended on the vexed question of means of communication. There was no cross-country railway linking the eastern German wing to the western German wing. As has been previously remarked, all supplies and munitions had to come in a roundabout way. Verdun was a desired goal, but Field Marshal von Heeringen was wise enough to know that if the crown prince's effort against General Sarrail had failed, if the Third French Army had secured heavy reenforcement, and if it had been left unmolested for a week, the outer ring of defenses around Verdun would, by that time, have become so amazingly strengthened that direct or frontal attack would be impossible, while the flanking attack had failed. It was vain, therefore, at the present time, to hope that the establishment of the direct communication between Metz and Verdun might pass into the hands of the invaders.

On the other hand, there was a direct line of railway running through Rheims, Rethel, Mezieres to the great war depot, Coblenz on the Rhine. A branch line from Metz, through Luxemburg, thus gave communication to the eastern wing. All the links of this were in German hands, except Rheims, and if that railroad center could be secured, the importance to the German advance would be enormous. Under such circumstances, it can scarcely be held that Rheims was not necessarily a point, the attack of which was due to military necessity.

The formation for this began on September 17, 1914. Crossing the Aisne by the old ford of Berry-au-Bac, a powerful army under the direct leadership of Field Marshal von Heeringen debouched upon the open country between Berry-au-Bac and Suippes, east of Rheims. It was at this point that the German commander in chief of this section of the battle line intended to deliver a crushing blow by which might be regained the prestige secured at Charleroi and lost again at the Marne.

Surprise may be felt that so important a railway center as Rheims should not have been a strongly fortified place. It had been so once, though the fortifications were old-fashioned. But, instead of bringing these points of natural defense up to the highest degree of modern efficiency, the French had dismantled them entirely, so as to make Rheims with its glorious cathedral an open town, safe from bombardment. It was, according to the rules of war, safe from bombardment, but only in the event of its not being defended. General Foch did not dare to take this stand. He knew, as well as did General von Heeringen, the strategic value of Rheims as railroad center, and accepted the issue of battle.

In the falling back of the several German armies from the Marne to the Aisne, the Germans had kept possession of the chief forts of the district around Rheims. No strong effort had been made to dislodge them, for the forward movement of the Allies had been directed against the fortified heights of the Aisne, facing the Soissons-Craonne defense. It will be remembered that the armies of General Foch and Langle, especially the latter, had taken no part in the first phase of the Battle of the Aisne, but had stubbornly thrown back the armies of the Duke of Wuerttemberg, which had combined with those of the crown prince. The right wing of this large conjoined army had held the fort sites around Rheims and especially they had made full use of the chief fort on the wooded heights of Nogent l'Abbesse, a trifle less than half a mile from the cathedral city and therefore within easy destructive shelling range. The heavy artillery was planted here, the infantry intrenched around it, and strong defense trenches were established along the River Suippe that runs into the Aisne near Berry-au-Bac.

On Friday, September 18, 1914, the first movement of the second phase was begun, when the Germans launched a sharp counterattack on the French center. This was the first German offensive movement since their retreat from the Marne, and it was powerful and well handled. General Foch fell back into defensive positions, but had much ado to hold his own. He evaded giving battle around Rheims and took up a position at Souain, which he held with the jaunty obstinacy he had displayed so often in the retreat through northern France. It was obvious that he could not hold out long, but by clever generalship, and especially by an extraordinarily brilliant use of the cavalry arm, he held off the army for that day. That night strong reenforcements came to his aid, and on September 19, 1914, the balance of the forces was more nearly equal.

On September 19, 1914, therefore, the situation of the armies was much as follows: The Germans, acting under the general command of Field Marshal von Heeringen, controlled Rheims under the gunfire of their heavy artillery from two points, the heights of Nogent l'Abbesse to the southeast of Rheims, and the hill of Brimont a little over half a mile to the northeast. Their right flank was covered by the powerful defenses of the Aisne and the guns of the Craonne plateau, their left flank was a series of intrenchments along the river Suippe, which merged into the second line of defense of the main army under the Duke of Wuerttemberg.

On the other side of Rheims, or to the west of the cathedral city, the Allies also held two heights, one at Pouillon, between the Aisle and the Vesle, and therefore to the northwest of the city, and the other on a sharp steep, known as the Mountain of Rheims, near Verzenay, on the south side of the river. This was therefore west and a little south of Rheims. But, and herein lies the question that has so often arisen in the discussion of the comparative strength of the two armies—especially without the British batteries—the French lacked heavy long-range artillery. They had no such howitzers as those of the German forces. Thus the Germans could shell Rheims to their hearts' content, and the Allies could not silence that gunfire from their own fortified positions. Once more, then, it became a battle between infantry and artillery, between men and machines.

This time, however, the advance was not favorable to the Germans. Their heavy artillery commanded Rheims, but it did not command the French line to the west of Rheims. The invaders performed prodigies of valor. Again and again they hurled themselves against the French line. But General Foch's troops were well supplied with that terrible engine of destruction—the French 3-inch fieldpiece, known, as the 75-mm., an extremely powerful gun for its caliber.

In four successive night attacks on September 19-20, 1914, the heaviest onset was made. Supported by a terrific gunfire, directed with the long pointing fingers of searchlights, the German infantry, invigorated by a week's rest; rolled up in gray-clad tidal waves against the French line. General Foch had known how to post his defense, and within twenty-four hours he had made the line between Pouillon and the Mountain of Rheims almost as strong as the German line between Brimont and Nogent l'Abbesse. Poor Rheims lay between, wide open to the eruption of destruction that belched from the throats of the German howitzers.

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CHAPTER XXIV

END OF THE BATTLE

After September 22, 1914, there was a lull in the fighting at Rheims, and as afterward appeared, this was due mainly to another change of plan on the part of the German Staff. But it was no part of General Foch's intentions to leave the bombardment of the cathedral unrevenged. He had, indeed, caused an unparalleled slaughter on the night of September 19, 1914, as has been stated, but his troops were avid for reprisal and the French strategist knew well how dangerous it is to allow an army, eager for action and revenge, to eat its heart out vainly. He was too wise to run the risk of a countercharge, but four days later his opportunity came, and he took advantage of it to the full.

At dawn on September 26, 1914, a detachment of 15,000 Germans, including all that remained of the famous Prussian Guards Corps, that same body that had fought so marvelously on many occasions, and which had suffered the most cruelly in the affair of the marshes of St. Gond, made a sortie from the base line at Nogent l'Abbesse to destroy the railway line between Rheims and Verdun, this line was, indeed, the principal link of communication to that all-important fortress that protruded its bristling salient into the heart of the German position. A French aviator, who had climbed into his machine when it was yet dark, in order to do a little daybreak scouting before the light should be sufficiently bright to make him an easy target, saw this movement and reported it immediately to General Foch. That commander, who knew how to use cavalry, ordered a regiment at the gallop to occupy the village of Auberive, on the Suippe, and there harry the advancing column sufficiently to give him time to bring up the light artillery and to bring into action a large body of infantry encamped at Jouchery, five miles away.

Before six o'clock, the cavalry were in Auberive. The men worked like fiends. The streets were rapidly barricaded, machine guns hoisted to roofs and other points where they might command a wide sweep of fire. Then the cavalry rode forward to meet the advancing column. Not knowing what might be in front of him, the German commander halted, awaiting reports from his air scouts. The halt was but three-quarters of an hour, but that was of vast importance. The scouts reported only a regiment of cavalry ahead, but a powerful detachment of French artillery on the road from Jouchery. The German leader detached 2,000 of the Death's Head Hussars, his crack cavalry, to cut off, or at all events to delay, the French guns. He was aware that the artillery would have no anticipation of this and, in the surprise, the guns might be captured. Meantime, he hurried his advance to Auberive, captured the village, though after another hour's delay, caused by the resistance of the cavalry, who retreated to St. Hilaire.

Meantime, at St. Hilaire, the surprise charge of the Death's Head Hussars was launched. It was scarcely a question of minutes, it was rather a matter of seconds. But the French artillery knew their light fieldpieces as thoroughly as the Germans were masters of the heavy guns. In less than two minutes the artillery teams were unharnessed, the guns were in position and the gunners took their places when the Hussars were so near the voices of their leaders could be heard. Thirty seconds earlier, and the Hussars would have been in among the guns and made a notable capture. There was just time enough for a man to breathe twice, when the order came to fire. The Hussars were at less than a hundred yards' range. As the shrapnel burst, the front squadrons seemed to stumble and fall. The ranks were so near that the change from living human beings into mangled pieces of flesh and rags could clearly be seen. More than one veteran gunner felt squeamish at the sight. But the rear squadrons, though their horses' hoofs were squelching in the blood of their comrades of a moment before, never blenched or faltered but swept on at a thundering gallop. Again the guns spoke, and again. That was all. Amid the vines, here and there a writhing figure could be seen, or a wounded horse endeavoring to rise, and here and there a straggler striving to escape. It was level open country; twice again the guns roared, five rounds in all, and all movement ceased. The engagement had lasted less than five minutes and of those two thousand splendid horsemen not one escaped. The French artillerists picked up the wounded and sent them back to Rheims to receive nursing and care, and then hurried on to the action whither they were bound when surprised by the Hussars.

The infantry of the Germans and of the French were now coming to hand grips. A battalion of Zouaves was creeping round to attack the advancing column in the rear. The German commander at Nogent l'Abbesse learned from his air scouts what was happening. He saw the peril of the advancing column, that it was almost surrounded, and, he threw further columns into the fray, to cover the retreat. The sortie on the railway had now become impossible. General Foch had moved too quickly. But, even so, the peril was great, for the German force was almost cut off. It meant the loss of 15,000 men and artillery, or it meant the sacrifice of some one corps to cover the retreat. The latter course was chosen.

Three thousand of the Guards Corps, the flower of the Prussian Army, were sent like a catapult at the gap in the French line, immediately in front of Rheims. Five times they charged, and with such heroic daring and such penetrative energy that General Foch did not dare break from his position. As they came up for the fifth assault, a wild cheer of admiration broke out along the French line. But the rifles spoke steadily, none the less for that. After the fifth assault, barely a hundred men were left, nearly all wounded. They reversed rifles, a sign of surrender, and in all honor they were received by General Foch, who conducted them to the hospital in the rear. They lived up to the full the most heroic traditions of the old Prussian corps and they saved that whole German force from destruction. Still, with the annihilation of the Death's Head Hussars and the remainder of the Prussian Guards Corps on the same day, the forces under General Foch felt that in part Rheims had been avenged.

The other section of this second phase of the Aisne consisted of the trench warfare, which solidified from September 19 to October 6, 1914, under conditions of extreme difficulty and more than extreme discomfort. It was practically the establishment of a trench campaign that lasted all winter, and revived the centuries-old fortress warfare, applying it under modern conditions to field fortifications. The French during that winter on the Aisne never quite succeeded in rivaling the mechanical precision of the German movements; the Germans, on the other hand, never showed themselves to possess the emotional fervor of the French with the bayonet.

In many places German and Allies' trenches almost touched each other. The first two weeks at the Aisne were one continual downpour, and the foundation of that ground is chalk. On the sides of the plateau of Craonne, after two weeks' rain, the chalky mud seemed bottomless. "It filled the ears and eyes and throats of our men," wrote John Buchan, "it plastered their clothing and mingled generously with their diet. Their grandfathers, who had been at Sebastopol, could have told them something about mud; but even after India and South Africa, the mire of the Aisne seemed a grievous affliction." The fighting was constant, the nervous strain exhausting, and the cold and wet were even harder to bear. There had as yet been no time to build trenches with all conveniences, such as the Germans possessed on the crest of the ridge, and the trenches of the Allies were a chilled inferno of woe.

A stretch of waste ground lay between the trenches, and often for days at a time the fire was too heavy to rescue the wounded or bring in the dead. The men in the trenches, on either side, were compelled to hear the groans of the wounded, lying in the open day after day, until exhaustion, cold and pain brought them a merciful release. In letters more than one soldier declared that the hardest thing to bear was to hear a fellow comrade shrieking or groaning in agony a few steps away for hours—even days at a time—and to be able to do nothing to help. The stench from the unburied bodies was so great that officially all the tobacco for the whole battle front was commandeered and sent to the trenches under the plateau of Craonne and on the hill to the westward, where the British First Army Corps was placed. Such, for the two weeks between September 22, 1914, and October 6, 1914, was the trench warfare during the second phase of the battle of the Aisne, a condition never after repeated in the war, for such a feat as the crossing of the Aisne could scarcely be duplicated. It was gallant, it was magnificent, and it was costly—the British casualty list for September 12 to October 6, 1914, being, killed, wounded and missing, 561 officers and 12,980 men—but it was useless, and only served to give the Allies a temporary base whereby General Foch was successful in checking the German attempt to capture the Rheims-Verdun railway. It was a victory of bravery, but not a victory of result.

During all these operations the Belgian army, now at Antwerp, had harassed the German troops by frequent sorties. The capture of the city was at once undertaken by the German Staff, following the stalemate created by the operations at the Aisne.

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CHAPTER XXV

"THE RACE TO THE SEA"

The Germans, having failed in their first enveloping movement, attempted a second after the battle of the Marne. They tried to repeat their maneuver of August, endeavoring to overwhelm the French left; while the French, on their side, tried to overwhelm the German right. Each of these armies, by a converging movement, gradually drew its forces toward the west. No sooner did the Germans bring up a new corps on their right than the French brought up another on their left. Thus the front of the battle ascended more and more to the west and north until arriving at the sea it could go no farther. This is what has been called by French military critics "The Race to the Sea." In this race to the sea the Germans had a great advantage over the French. A glance at the map is enough to make it understood. The concave form of the German front made the lines of transportation shorter; they were within the interior of the angle, while the French were at the exterior. On the German side this movement drew into the line more than eighteen army corps, or twelve active corps, six reserve corps, and four cavalry corps.

On the French side it resulted in the posting of the army of Castelnau on the left of Manoury's army, in the deployment of the army of General de Maud'huy to the left of the army of Castelnau, in the transference of the British army to the left of the army of Maud'huy, in the relegation of the army of Urbal to the left of the British army, the army of Urbal being later flanked by the Belgian army which came out of Antwerp. In order to accomplish this new and extended disposition of forces the French General Staff was compelled to reduce to their extreme limits the effective strengths of the armies of the east and of the Oise, and as a result to make the maximum use of the means of transport. In this it succeeded. When the great battle of Flanders was waged toward the end of October, the Germans, trying to turn the French left and to pierce it, found themselves facing considerable French forces, which, allied with the British and Belgian armies, completely barred the passage against them.

From the 15th of September, 1914, it was clear that the Germans were making a great effort to try and overwhelm the French left. General Joffre parried the attack, reenforcing at first the army of Manoury by an army corps, then transferring to the left of the army of Manoury the entire army of Castelnau that was in Lorraine. A corps of cavalry and four territorial divisions commanded by General Brugere received the order to establish itself on both banks of the Somme and protect the detraining of the army of Castelnau.

From September 21 to September 26, 1914, all the French forces that had newly arrived were engaged in the Lassigny-Roye-Peronne region. They succeeded in withstanding, not without difficulty, the German attack, but they could not advance. The Germans determinedly and unweariedly continued to mass new forces on their right. On the left of the army of Castelnau it was therefore necessary to establish a new army. It was established on September 30, 1914, under the command of General Maud'huy. From the first days of October this army waged violent conflicts in the region of Arras and of Lens. It found facing it two German cavalry corps, the Guard, four active army corps, and two reserve corps.

General Joffre continued without intermission to send new forces to the left. On October 4, 1914, he called on General Foch in the north and charged him with the duty of coordinating the action of all the armies in that region: those of De Castelnau, Maud'huy, and the territorial divisions. At the beginning of October the British army, which was posted on the Aisne, was transferred to the left of the French armies and replaced by the armies of Manoury and d'Esperey. The Belgian army, issuing from Antwerp on October 9, 1914, effected its retreat, covered by the British naval forces and 6,000 French marines. It took its place on the Yser Canal between Nieuport and Dixmude.

The Germans continuing their efforts to turn the French left, it was found necessary again to strengthen that left considerably; and new French army corps were transferred to Flanders and Belgium. It was a new French army that was established and the command of it was intrusted to General d'Urbal. It consisted at first of two divisions of territorials and four divisions of cavalry of the corps of General de Mitry, along with a brigade of naval fusiliers. But from October 27 to November 11, 1914, it received considerable reenforcements.

During the second week in November the German attack revealing its purpose more clearly, General Joffre sent four more battalions of chasseurs and four more brigades of infantry. The reenforcements sent to the French army of the north totaled as a result five army corps, a division of cavalry, a territorial division, sixteen cavalry regiments, and more than sixty pieces of heavy artillery.

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CHAPTER XXVI

SIEGE AND FALL OF ANTWERP

The siege of Antwerp began on September 29, 1914, and in less than two weeks, October 10, 1914, this historic city, one of the most important trade centers of the world and one of the strongest fortresses in Europe, was forced to capitulate, though it had always been believed to be impregnable.

During the latter part of September, 1914, the forces of the belligerents were driving northward in that memorable race for the Channel in which both sides had the same object; each was trying to be the first to turn the other's front and crumble his line.

At the same time the German forces, then in the vicinity of Brussels, under the command of General van Beseler, pushed toward Antwerp, on which the Belgian army had fallen back to make its last stand. This move was necessary in order to cut off all danger of rear attacks which would menace General von Kluck's drive to the coast, a movement which had reached Douai on October 1, 1914.

The German General Staff had decided to take Antwerp at all cost. General von Beseler on the last day of September, 1914, reached a point within range of Antwerp's farthest outer forts.

In order to understand the record of the following successive steps in the siege of Antwerp, a description of this city's position and the location of its double circle of forts is necessary. Antwerp was considered one of the most formidable strongholds in the world. The elaborate defenses of Antwerp evolved from the original fortifications of thirty years ago through continual additions. The location of the city offers very many natural advantages for its defense, and the engineering genius controlling the work made full use of these opportunities. From the north Antwerp has access to the sea by the river Scheldt, of which the arm nearest to the city is narrow, with six strong forts on each bank, including the citadel.

Any armies approaching from the south must cross the rivers Rupel and Nethe, which practically, in the shape of a semicircle, swing around the city to the south at a distance varying from about six to twelve miles. Within this circle of flowing water, and about two miles from the city, is another circle, formed by twelve powerful forts. At a point almost due east from the center of the city and commanding the railroad to Holland, by way of Turnhout, is located the first of eight forts, designated by numbers. From there they swing to the south and west, with fort eight very close to the Scheldt and directly south to the village of Hoboken. On the other side of the river are Forts de Cruibeke and Zwyndrecht, the latter commanding the railroad to Ghent. Further north and right on the banks of the Scheldt are Forts St. Marie, la Perle, and St. Philip, the first two on the left bank and the last on the right, all three opposite the new harbor and docks. In the northeast Fort de Merkem guards the railroad to Rotterdam. Outside of this circle and in the south, outside of the Nethe-Rupel line, there is another complete circle of nineteen even stronger forts, at a distance from the city varying between five and ten miles. Starting again in the east—due east from fort one—and swinging south, these forts are named: Oeleghem, Broeckem, Kessel, Lierre, Koningshoyckt, Wavre St. Catherine, Waelhem—the last two only a few miles north of Malines—Breendonck, Liezel, Bornem, Rupelmonde, Haesdonck, Doel, Blauwgaren—the last two guarding the Scheldt at the point of its entrance into Holland, one on each bank—Stabroek, Ertbrand, Brasschaet, Schooten, and Gravenwezel. Between these outer forts there were redoubts of considerable strength, which were armed with 4-inch guns. The forts of the inner ring are placed at regular intervals of 2,200 yards and at a distance of about 3,500 yards from the enceinte of the city, which itself had powerful defenses as well.



Add to these defenses the important fact that the entire district surrounding Antwerp was subject to inundation to such a depth that all approach to the city could be made impracticable to an enemy force with heavy cannon and ammunition. Military authorities held Antwerp to be of incomparable strength and as nearly impregnable as engineering genius could make it.

During the latter part of September, 1914, several of the outer forts were subjected to bombardment, and many of these had become useless as defenses.

General von Beseler's advance was still barred by the river Nethe, upon the opposite bank of which the defense was concentrated. During the engagements which now ensued the German aircraft kept the commanders advised as to conditions behind the enemy's lines, now and then dropping bombs, apparently doing considerable damage.

On October 2, 1914, General von Beseler scattered from "Taube" aeroplanes a number of printed papers over the entire district. These circulars contained a proclamation to the Belgian soldiers, advising them to stop fighting for England and Russia and to return home to their wives and children, as Germany was ready to help and befriend them.

The Belgian Government, which had established itself in Antwerp after the occupation of Brussels, decided to leave the city as soon as possible. Two small steamers were ordered to be held in readiness. The foreign legations also decided to go with the Government.

Throughout this day a steady fire was kept up on the nearest outer forts, but the Belgian soldiers contested every inch of ground against the German advance. This fighting continued throughout the entire day following, during which two of the minor outer forts were silenced.

Rapid progress by the Germans was very difficult owing to the peculiar conformation of the course of the river Scheldt at the point of attack. This made especially difficult the laying of concrete foundations for the heavy guns.

The first detachment of British troops, numbering about 8,000 marines, reached Antwerp on October 3, 1914. This buoyed up the spirits of the Belgian soldiers and redoubled their efforts. Under cover of the continuous fire of their guns, the Germans made determined efforts to cross the river Nethe at Waelhem. Desperate fighting, which lasted all night and until early in the morning of October 4, took place. This attempt, however, failed. Later in the day the Germans succeeded in putting a pontoon bridge in place. Troops in solid masses hurried across; but as they reached the other side some well-directed shots from the Belgian guns blew the pontoon bridge to pieces, killing many.

Throughout the night of October 4, 1914, and the day and night of October 5, the battle raged about Lierre with savage ferocity. The British marines had by this time relieved the Belgians. The German fire, however, compelled the defenders to draw back a considerable distance.

At four o'clock in the morning of October 6, 1914, the Germans succeeded in crossing the river in force, and now the defenders were obliged to give way, as the outer forts had ceased to afford them any protection. Late in the afternoon the members of the Belgian Cabinet and their official families went aboard one steamer, while the French and British Legations boarded another, both sailing early on October 7.

The Belgian troops had begun to withdraw the evening before. All the defending forces now hastened their retreat. The actual evacuation had indeed begun. Time was taken, however, to put out of commission some thirty steamships lying at their docks and to set afire all the large oil tanks on the west side of the river Scheldt. The streets in Antwerp presented scenes of almost indescribable confusion. Even before the bombardment had been long in operation almost the entire civil population became panic-stricken. Hither and thither, wherever the crowd drifted, explosions obstructed their paths; fronts of buildings bent over and fell into the streets, in many cases crushing their occupants. Although the burgomaster had issued a proclamation advising the people to remain calm—indoors, if possible—nothing could stop the stampede.

The defending troops withdrawing through the city from the firing line destroyed everything that might possibly be of use to the enemy. The suburbs of Antwerp seemed to be ablaze in every direction; the village of Waerloos had been burning for some days; Contich, Duffel, and Lierre also, and Have, Linth, and Vieux Dieu had been destroyed by shell fire. Mortsel was practically obliterated by the Belgians clearing the range for the guns of the inner forts. In the preparation for defense the Belgians destroyed upward of ten thousand buildings within a radius of twenty miles.

The exodus of the civil population began in earnest on October 8, 1914. Some of the streets in the heart of the city were choked with people, while other streets in the same vicinity were dead and deserted. The withdrawal of the troops was well screened from the German guns, but their retreat to the west had been cut off to a great extent, and Holland was now the only refuge for many. The Germans did not use their heaviest guns and high-explosive shells in bombarding the city.

During this terrible time, in utter darkness and confusion, crowds amounting to many thousands—men, and women with babies, and children of all ages—streamed through the streets that led to the quays or to the turnpike to Holland. All sorts of vehicles, from dogcarts to motor trucks, the former drawn by dogs, men, and horses, carried the belongings of the fugitives that could not be carried away in person.

The bombardment continued with varying severity throughout October 8, 1914. As the Germans drew nearer to the city all the inner forts on the south and east sides of the circle took part in replying to the cannonade. Some of these forts—notably two, three, four, and five—were badly battered. By afternoon the city seemed deserted—nothing but debris of fallen buildings and wreckage met the eyes, and a small remnant of the population was still struggling for escape.

Along all the wayside immense crowds of men, women, and children gathered. The railway stations were choked with struggling humanity. Their condition was pitiable. These scenes continued all day and throughout the entire night.

On the morning of October 9, 1914, the struggle to get away continued. Long lines formed on the quay where it had been reported that two boats would leave for Ostend by eleven o'clock, and all those that could pay struggled to get their passage booked. There were between 35,000 and 40,000 people on the quays, every one buoyed up by the hope that safety was in sight at last. But the boats failed to sail and a murmur of disappointment rose from this vast multitude of unfortunates.

However, there were other means of escape available, such as tugboats, plying between Flushing, Rotterdam, and other adjacent points in Holland. These tugs had no great accommodations for passengers and comparatively few people escaped by this means. No trains were scheduled to run and in despair the crowds started to cross the bridge and make for the road to the Dutch frontier. Altogether from 150,000 to 200,000 of the population of the city escaped by one means or another.

During a continuous bombardment of twelve hours the cathedral stood unharmed. The southern part of Antwerp was a desolate waste of ruins. In some streets all the homes were ablaze, the flames leaping hither and thither with the wind. The great oil tanks burning fiercely on the opposite bank of the River Scheldt were fired upon by some well-directed shots to check the blaze, a huge black volume of thick smoke now rising from the flames. To add to the difficulties and confusion the water supply had been cut off during the early stages of the bombardment through the destruction of the city's waterworks which were located in one of the suburbs to the south, and the consequences threatened to become alarming. Everywhere fires were burning.

This was the tragic scene when the German army entered the conquered city of Antwerp on October 10, 1914. It is probable that a large part of the city would have been burned, if the Germans had not entered in time to check the conflagration. Without loss of time, forces were put to work fighting the fires and clearing the streets, propping up unsafe buildings and making order out of chaos, with the usual Teuton efficiency. As soon as the bombardment had ceased proclamations were pasted on walls and houses throughout the city urging everyone to surrender any arms in their possession and begging for a calm demeanor when the German troops pass through the streets.

About noon on October 10, 1914, a patrol of cyclist-mounted police escorted the burgomaster to the gate of the city to receive the German forces. When they entered order was restored without delay. Soldiers were immediately detached from their special command and formed into gangs under competent foremen and all put to work at once each according to his trade, fitness or adaptability. The forts that had been dismantled were hastily patched up and new guns mounted for emergency use.

On October 11, 1914, Field Marshal van der Goltz, the Governor General of Belgium, came from Brussels and made a tour of inspection of the double girdle of forts. Upon examination it was found that the actual damage done to the city by the bombardment was comparatively slight.

During the last days of Antwerp's reign of terror fully 300,000 fugitives sought shelter in Bergan-op-Zoom about twenty-five miles northward across the Dutch frontier. Most of these were in a condition almost indescribable, ragged, travel-worn, shoeless, and bespattered and hungry. Few had money; valuables or other resources. All they owned they carried on their backs or in bundles. The little Dutch town of Bergen-op-Zoom with but 15,000 inhabitants was swamped; but the Hollanders did their best to meet this terrible pressure and its citizens went without bread themselves to feed the refugees. Slowly some sort of order was organized out of the chaos and when the Dutch Government was able to establish refugee camps under military supervision the worst was over. A majority of this vast army was by degrees distributed in the surrounding territory where tent accommodations had been completed. The good Hollanders provided for the children with especial care and sympathy. They supplied milk for the babies and children generally. Devoted priests comforted many; but military organization prevailed over all. Among the thousands of these poor refugees that crossed the frontier at Maastricht and besieged the doors of the Belgian consul there was no railing or declaiming against the horror of their situation. The pathos of lonely, staring, apathetic endurance was tragic beyond expression.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XXVII

YSER BATTLES—ATTACK ON YPRES

A large part of the Belgian forces with some of the English marines were forced across the Dutch border, where they were promptly disarmed and interned, while the remnants of these forces retreated toward the west by way of St. Nicolas and reached Ostend on October 11 and 12, 1914, with greatly reduced numbers. Many were cut off and captured by the German forces, which entered Ghent on October 12, and pressed on to Ypres in one direction and to Lille in another. Next day, the thirteenth, they approached Ostend, forcing these Belgians who had managed to get through, to evacuate.

Bruges was occupied by the German forces on October 14, 1914, and other detachments appeared in Thielt, Daume, and Esschen on the same day, thus getting under their control the entire Kingdom of Belgium, with the exception of the northwestern corner, north of Ypres, to the coast of the channel. For Ostend, too, had fallen into their hands by October 15, after the English and Belgian troops had been taken away by an English fleet; the Belgians were transported to France where they were re-formed while the English marines were sent back to England.

In the meantime the Germans were drawing on reenforcements from the Vosges and the Champagne districts and every day their numbers increased. West Flanders was swarming with German cavalry, and about this time they were as far west as Hazebrouck and Cassel, and only twenty-five miles distant from Dunkirk.

By October 20, 1914, the allied line was in position from Albert to the sea, a little short of 100 miles, eighty as the crow flies. From south to north the allied front was commanded by General Maud'huy from Albert to Vermelles; General Smith-Dorrien from Vermelles to Laventie, opposite Lille; General Poultney, from Laventie to Messines; General Haig from Messines to Bixschoote; General de Mitry had French and Belgian mixed troops defending the line from Bixschoote to Nieuport and the sea, supported by an English and French fleet.

For days this fleet under the British Admiral Hood had shelled the coast defenses under General von Beseler's command. As the naval guns had a far better range than General von Beseler's artillery, it was an easy matter to hold the coast at Nieuport Bains, and even six miles inland without subjecting any of the ships to the fire of the German guns.

On the German side General von Buelow held the front against General Maud'huy, the Bavarian Crown Prince against General Smith-Dorrien, while the Duke of Wuerttemberg commanded the forces on the balance of the line to the sea. It is estimated that upward of thirty army corps covered the German front.

Throughout the balance of October, 1914, and well into November, 1914, a great many different actions and some of the heaviest fighting of this period took place all along this line. On the 21st the new German formations pressed forward in great force all along the line. On the south of the Lys the Germans assaulted Violaines. On the north of the Lys in the English center a fiercely contested action took place near La Gheir, which village the Germans captured in the morning. The German Twenty-sixth Reserve Corps pressed on to Passchendale, where they met with stout resistance from the English-Belgian forces.

On October 22, 1914, the Germans attacked from the La Bassee region and gained several small villages. Both Allies and Germans suffered immense lasses. Much of the slaughter was due to the point-blank magazine fire and the intermittent shrapnel explosions from bath sides.

The mast savage fighting was kept up all along the line, but no advantage accrued ta either side until Friday, October 28, 1914, when the Germans succeeded in crossing the Yser at St. George and forcing their way two miles to Ramscapelle; retaken on the 30th by General Grossetti. This was accomplished by General von Beseler's troops, opposing the mixed troops of the Belgian and French. On that night fourteen separate attacks were made by the Germans on Dixmude and they were repulsed each time.

On October 24, 1914, about 5,000 German troops crossed the canal at Schoorbakke and next day there were more to come, so for the moment it looked as though the allied line on the Yser had been broken. The struggle at this point continued until October 28, during which time the Allies contested every inch of ground. The kaiser was with the Duke of Wuerttemberg on this day, expecting every moment that his great design to break through the lines and drive his forces to Dunkirk and Calais would be accomplished.

At the crisis the Belgians broke dawn the dykes and flooded the country for miles around. Heavy rains during the last weeks had swelled the Yser. The Belgians had dammed the lower reaches of the canal; the Yser lipped over its brim and spread lagoons over the flat meadows. Soon the German forces on the west bank were floundering in a foot of water, while their guns were waterlogged and deep in mud. The Germans did not abandon their efforts. The kaiser called for volunteers to carry Ramscapelle—two Wuerttemberg brigades responded—and gained the place, but at terrible loss.

On the 30th of October, 1914, again the Wuerttembergers advanced to the attack. They waded through sloppy fields from the bridgeheads at St. George and Schoorbakke, and by means of table taps, boards, planks and other devices crossed the deeper dykes. So furious was the attack pressed home that they won the railway line and held their ground. They were to do some severe fighting, however, for next day French-Belgian and African mixed troops fought fiercely to drive the Germans back but failed.

Seeing their success in partially flooding the battle field, the Belgians made more breaches in the dams, and, opening the sluices in the canal, threw a flood of water greater still over the area occupied by the Germans. In seething brown waves the water rose up to the high ground at the railway near Ramscapelle. The Germans were caught in this tide and scores of them were drowned. Many escaped, some struggled to land on the Allies front and were made prisoners.

Sir John French summarized part of the fighting in Flanders, after the capture of Antwerp, in the following official report: "The Second Corps under General Smith-Dorrien was opposed by overpowering forces of Germans, but nevertheless advanced until October 18, 1914, when the German opposition compelled a reenforcement. Six days later the Lahore Division of the Indian Army was sent to support the Second Corps. On October 16, Sir Henry Rawlinson, who had covered the retreat of the Belgian army from Antwerp, with two divisions of English cavalry and two divisions of French infantry, was stationed on the line east of Ypres under orders to operate over a wide front and to keep possession of all the ground held by the Allies until the First Army Corps could reach Ypres.

"General Rawlinson was opposed by superior forces and was unable to prevent the Germans from getting large reenforcements. With four divisions holding a much wider front than their size justified he faced a rather awkward situation, as the enemy was massed from the Lys.

"The shattered Belgian army and the weary French troops advanced to check the Germans—but in vain. Sir Douglas Haig with the First Army Corps was sent to recapture Bruges on October 19, 1914, while the Belgian army intrenched along the Yser Canal. General Haig failed—owing to bad roads. October 21 brought the most severe attack made on the First Corps at Ypres, in the checking of which the Worcestershire Regiment did good work. This day marked the most critical period in the battle which resulted in the recapture of the village of Gheluvelt."

South of Dixmude is one of the most historic and quaintly attractive cities of Belgium, Ypres. It is situated on a tributary of the Yser called the Yperlee, and a railway runs through it from Roulers to the main Lille-St. Ower line at Hazebrouck and a very important canal runs from the Yser in the north to the Lys at Comines.

The allied lines were held by the British First and Third Corps and several cavalry divisions, at this point all under the chief command of General Haig, while the Bavarian Crown Prince directed the movements of the German forces. On October 20, 1914, the allied line stretched—a few miles to the northeast of Ypres—from Bixschoote to the crossroads a mile and a half northwest of Zonnebeke. The cavalry only were kept busy during this day, while the other forces were making elaborate preparations for the main drive. The great attack was delivered October 21 against the point of the salient between Zonnebeke and Besselaere. The allied line on the left was so much exposed that the Twenty-second Brigade was enfiladed by the Germans at the very beginning, and in the center the Germans pierced the line held by the Royal Scots Fusiliers, with the Yorkshires on the extreme right. The fierce assaults from both sides ended in a draw for this day.

On October 22, 1914, the fighting was most severe all day; but later in the day the most violent assault of all was made by the Germans upon the First Brigade on the left. There the trenches were held by the Camerons, north of Pilkem on the Langemarck—Bixschoote road. Here the Germans broke the line and succeeded in capturing part of the Camerons—the famous Red Tartans. Further south, the Royal Scots Fusiliers were obliged to give way. The Germans pressed hard in the vicinity of Hollebeke which point opened a clear road to Ypres; but here the allied forces stood their ground. Still farther south the Essex Regiment and the Lancashire Fusiliers fought savagely, but were driven back upon Armentierre when night fell.



Early Friday morning, October 23, 1914, the Allies made a desperate assault upon the trenches lost by the Camerons on the previous day. The fighting culminated in a savage bayonet attack which resulted in the recapture of these trenches by the British composed of the King's Royal Rifles, the Royal West Surrey Regiment and the Northamptons.

On October 24, 1914, the Germans advanced upon the allied extreme left; but were successfully repulsed between Zonnebeke and Poelcapelle. Later in the day the Germans renewed their attack and compelled the allied troops to retire some distance.

The advance on the allied left was continued on Sunday, October 25, 1914. Repeatedly the Germans succeeded in piercing the allied lines; but at one time, even though they had broken through, a momentary lack of reserves compelled them to retreat to avoid capture. A savage enveloping attack was made during the night, north of Zandvoorde, where again the Germans broke through the allied lines, but were unable to maintain their advantage through failure of reenforcements to come up in time. The Leicester Brigade were shelled out of their trenches and were obliged to fall back to the south of the River Lys.

During the following three days—October 26, 27, 28, 1914—artillery fire was resorted to and desultory fighting and skirmishes along the entire line resulted in no noteworthy advantage to either belligerent.

Thursday, October 29, 1914, opened with clear and bracing weather which promised to continue throughout the day. The German attack which had been preparing for the past three days now broke like an irresistible wave upon the salient of the Gheluvelt crossroads, where the British First Corps was stationed. The first division was driven back from its trenches and after that the line swayed forward and backward for hours, but by two o'clock in the afternoon the position remained unchanged.

With the coming of the dawn on October 30, 1914, the fighting was resumed with even more savage determination on both sides. The hottest engagement centered about the ridge of Zandvoorde. German artillery fire cleared the allied trenches, burying many of the British soldiers alive under mountains of earth and debris. This forced the line to retreat a full mile to Klein Zillebeke to the north. The kaiser witnessed this engagement and by his presence cheered the German soldiers on to the most desperate fighting.

On the following day October 31, 1914, the crisis came. The fighting began along the Menin-Ypres road early in the morning and advanced with great violence upon the village of Gheluvelt. The First and Third Brigades or the First Division were swept back and the First Coldstream Guards were wiped out as a unit. The whole division was driven back from Gheluvelt to the woods between Veldhoek and Hooge. The allied headquarters at Hooge were shelled. General Lomas was wounded and six or the staff officers were killed.

The Royal Fusiliers who desperately stuck to their trenches fighting savagely were cut off and destroyed. Out of a thousand but seventy soldiers remained. Between two and three o'clock there occurred the most desperate fighting seen in the battle of Ypres. At 2:30 o'clock in the afternoon the Allies recaptured Gheluvelt at the point of the bayonet and by evening the Allies had regained their position. Ypres had not been captured by the Germans by this time, but they had secured their position in all the suburbs of Ypres and had that city at their mercy, provided allied reenforcements ordered up did not obstruct their path.

The fighting still continued for part of November, 1914, but for the month of October no definite result was to be recorded.

At Ypres, on November 2, 1914, the Germans captured 2,300 English troops and many machine guns. Dixmude was stormed by the Germans on the 10th of November, and they crossed the Yser Canal, capturing the Allies position west of Langemark, also driving them out of St. Eloi. Snow and floods interfered with the fighting along the battle front. Ypres was bombarded on several occasions and was repeatedly set on fire.

November 11, 1914, was another day of severe fighting. At daybreak the Germans opened fire on the allied trenches to the north and south of the road from Menin to Ypres. After a furious artillery fire the Germans drove their men forward in full force. This attack was carried out by the First and Fourth brigades of the Prussian Guard Corps which had been especially selected to capture Ypres if possible, since that task had proved too heavy for the infantry of the line. As the Germans surged forward they were met by a frontal fire from the allied lines, and as they were moving diagonally across part of the allied front, they were also attacked on the flank by the English artillery. Though the casualties of the Germans were enormous before they reached the English lines, such was their resolution and the momentum of the mass that, in spite of the splendid resistance of the English troops, the Germans succeeded in breaking through the allied lines in several places near the road. They penetrated some distance into the woods behind the English trenches, where some of the bloodiest fighting of the entire war took place.

On November 12, 1914, comparative quiet reigned and with the exception of artillery duels and some desultory fighting no results were obtained on either side. The British report makes this comment on this attempt upon Ypres: "Their (the Prussian Guard Corps') dogged perseverance in pursuance of their objective claims wholehearted admiration.

"The failure of one great attack, heralded as it was by an impassioned appeal to the troops made in the presence of the emperor himself, but carried out by partially trained men, has been only the signal for another desperate effort in which the place of honor was assigned to the corps d'elite of the German army.

"It must be admitted that the Guard Corps has retained that reputation for courage and contempt of death which it earned in 1870, when Emperor William I, after the battle of Gravelotte, wrote: 'My Guard has formed its grave in front of St. Privat,' and the swarms of men who came up bravely to the British rifles in the woods around Ypres repeated the tactics of forty-four years ago, when their dense columns, toiling up the slopes of St. Privat, melted away under the fire of the French."

Ypres was now but a name. Nothing but a mass of ruins reminded the world of its previous quaint splendor. For Ypres had been rich in historic buildings and monuments of past days.

With the fall of Antwerp the Germans had made every effort to push forward strong forces toward the west and had hastened to bring up new army corps which had been hurriedly organized, their object being to drive the Allies out of Belgium and break through to Dunkirk and Calais. Altogether they collected 250,000 fresh men. Eventually the Germans had north of La Bassee about fourteen corps and eight cavalry divisions, a force of 750,000 men, with which to attempt to drive the Allies into the sea. In addition there was immensely powerful armament and heavy siege artillery, which also had been brought up from around Antwerp. But in spite of these strong forces it became clearly evident by the middle of November that the attempt to break through to Calais had failed for the time being. The flooding of the Yser marks the end of the main struggle for Calais. The battle fronts had shifted. Between them there was a mile or two of mud and water. The Belgians had lost a quarter of their effectives. The Germans had evacuated the west bank of the Yser and were obliged to return to the point from which they had started.

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CHAPTER XXVIII

ATTACKS ON LA BASSEE AND ARRAS

While the engagement on the Yser was in progress in October, 1914, fierce fighting was kept up in the second section of the battle front, pivoting on Givenchy to the south and running east to the north of the La Bassee-Lille road. In this section the forces of the Crown Prince of Bavaria opposed the troops under the command of General Smith-Dorrien.

From October 1 to 3, 1914, considerable fighting went on in the flats east of Arras between Lens and the River Scarpe. This resulted in the retirement of the Allies on the 4th. The Germans began to bombard Arras, keeping it up until the 6th, when their attempt to take the city next day was successfully repulsed. On October 8, the Germans, then holding Douai and Lens, were shelling Lille, then held by the British territorials. For the next two weeks artillery duels alternated with trench fighting and skirmishing.