A Charge of French Light Cavalry at Lassigny.
(From the picture by F. Matania. By permission of The Sphere.)
You may be sure that the Germans were not asleep while Joffre was making his preparations. They saw at once what his object was, and they did not lose an hour in making ready to parry his blow. They had plenty of men to spare, for their trenches on the Heights of the Aisne were so strong that they could be held by a very thin line of troops. The General Staff at once began shuffling its armies to and fro, while new forces were hurried up from Germany. The interest of the struggle had now passed from the front on the Aisne to the right flank of the enemy.
By the 20th of September the 6th French Army, under General Maunoury, was lying south of the village of Lassigny, a day's march to the north of the confluence of the Oise and the Aisne. Von Kluck had already extended his right to meet the French attack. Amidst the wooded hills which lie between the village and the Oise there was very heavy fighting, which lasted several days. The Germans had occupied Lassigny, and were drinking themselves drunk with the red wine and cider which they found in the village, when the French burst on them with the bayonet and tumbled them pell-mell out of the place. Next morning the tables were turned. German guns shelled the village, and German cavalry swept the French out of its ruins. The rival forces dug themselves in, and soon the conditions on the Aisne were repeated.
Meanwhile de Castelnau had got into position to the north of Lassigny, and fierce fighting was raging about Roye, which was lost and won, taken and retaken. If either side could break through at Roye or Lassigny, it would be able to turn against one or other of the armies to its right or left and roll it up. Neither side, however, could gain and keep a yard of ground at this "death angle." Again the line was extended; by the 30th of September Maud'huy's army was advancing eastwards to the north of the Somme, only to find itself opposed by von Buelow's command. Every new French force brought up to extend the line was met and checked by a corresponding German force. Everywhere the enemy showed wonderful energy. While they were holding Maud'huy's army their troops were being hurried northwards behind their lines, and they were nowhere caught napping. Maud'huy dug himself in on the Albert plateau, and von Buelow could not drive him back. Here, too, there was deadlock.
Sketch Map to illustrate the Extension of the Allied Left.
Once more the French line was extended farther north, and as it extended so did the corresponding German front. Each side was attempting to outflank the other, and it was clear that the double movements could only be stopped by the sea. So the rival armies went clawing northwards. Between the Oise and Arras the French were holding their own with difficulty; in the Arras position they were fairly strong, but round Lille, which was held by French Territorials, they had but a mere ribbon of troops.
In the closing days of September the French learnt that the Germans had begun a new and very dangerous move. Masses of German cavalry were sweeping across the Belgian flats into France. Uhlans were within sight of the sea, and were threatening Maud'huy's left flank round Lille and among the colliery villages to the north of Arras. There were rumours of many troop trains moving through Liége and Namur and Brussels, and it seemed that the cavalry on Maud'huy's flank were but the vanguard of a huge army which was about to be flung against the French rear.
Nor was this all. The Germans had begun to besiege Antwerp. No one could say how long it could hold out. After the experience of Liége and Namur its chances were small, but it was hoped that the Belgian army might make an obstinate stand outside the circle of forts. No risks, however, could be taken. New armies must be moved without delay to the extreme left of the Allied line, in order to check the new German attack, and also to hold out a helping hand to the defenders of Antwerp.
To this post of honour Sir John French now laid claim. At Mons his army had been on the left of the Allied line; now it was in the centre. This meant that it was far from its base, and could only obtain its supplies by cross-country routes which ran through the lines of communications of the French armies. Sir John now asked to be transferred to his old position on the extreme left wing, where he would be near the coast, and could be readily supplied with food, ammunition, and reinforcements. His fine, seasoned soldiers were wasted on the Aisne, where the fight had dwindled to a series of artillery duels, with here and there a sharp struggle in the advanced trenches. If, as seemed likely, the Germans were about to make a dash for the coast, in order to capture Calais and the Channel ports, and thus threaten England, the British army desired nothing better than the chance to stop it. In these circumstances, General Joffre agreed that the British army should be carried northward by train, and should take up a position on the left flank of Maud'huy's army, which early in October 1914 had reached the south bank of a canal running westwards from Lille through La Bassée to Bethune.[153]
I need not tell you that the transfer of an army from the Aisne to the Franco-Belgian border was a very difficult and delicate operation indeed. Our trenches on the Aisne were in many places only about 100 yards from those of the enemy yet, platoon by platoon, battalion by battalion, and brigade by brigade, our men were shifted out of their trenches at night, and French soldiers were slipped in to take their places. The transfer began on 3rd October, when the 2nd Cavalry Division, under General Gough, marched to Compiègne, where it took train through Amiens to St. Omer, which lies to the west of Bethune. For sixteen days the business of withdrawing our men from the Aisne and sending them northwards by train continued, and all the time the Germans were quite unaware of what was going on. They had one of the greatest surprises of their lives when they discovered that the British army was opposing them on the Franco-Belgian border. German prisoners could not believe their eyes when they saw that their captors wore the familiar khaki. They firmly believed that the British army was in the trenches of the Aisne valley.
An officer writing home thus describes the transfer of the British army:—
"We left the river Aisne, and now we are a long way north of that position. It was a wonderful move. French troops appeared out of the darkness and took our places. They had marched many miles, but were quite cheerful and calm, their only desire being to get into our 'dug-outs' and go to sleep. Then we marched down the hill into a comparative peace, and, joy of joys! were allowed to smoke and talk. It was a bitterly cold night, and we were dreadfully sleepy. We nodded as we trudged along. And so we entrained, and slept, closely packed indeed, but on beautiful soft cushions instead of the mud of a trench; the men were comfortable, being wedged by forties in covered trucks with clean straw for beds. We awoke in Paris. We passed slowly through, and slept again until we stopped for water at Amiens.
"Our journey continued as fast as a train holding 1,000 men and their transport wagons can travel, and we were at Calais by evening. But a murrain on the foggy weather, which prevented us from catching a glimpse of the heights of Dover town! However, at another stopping-place there was a charming English girl giving the soldiers cigarettes, and the sight of her and a word or two made us doubly brave."
The Second Corps was timed to arrive on the canal to the west of Bethune on 11th October. It was to connect up with Maud'huy's army holding the line south of the canal, and Gough's cavalry was to hold back the Germans until it was in position. Next day the Third Corps was to arrive and detrain at St. Omer. Then the cavalry was to clear its flank, and hold back the Germans again until the Third Corps was in position. Finally, it had to do similar work until the First Corps could arrive and take its place in the long northward line. Such was the plan; and, thanks to the splendid manner in which the French and British staffs worked together, it succeeded. By 19th October 100,000 British soldiers had been silently and secretly withdrawn from their trenches on the Aisne, almost within eyeshot of the Germans, and had been carried 150 miles by rail to their new positions. During the journey some of our men passed near enough to the Channel to see British warships far out on the gray waters.
We won the race to the sea, but only by a short neck. How the Germans poured across Belgium, and how the remnants of the Belgian army, aided by a small British force, kept them at bay until the situation was saved, will be told in our next volume. The transfer of the British army from the Aisne to the Franco-Belgian border marks the close of the third great chapter of the war. Thenceforward, for many months, war was to be waged along a line of trenches extending from the wind-whipped dunes of the narrow seas to within sight of Alpine snows, a distance of more than 450 miles.
