The Second Corps then succeeded in breaking away, and by the evening a new line of the entire Force was formed, reaching from the fortress of Maubeuge on the right to two little villages, Bry and Jenlain, on the left. The 19th Brigade, which had come into the fight in the morning, was posted on and across the extreme left.

It should be noted that, with the fall of Tournai and the destruction of the French troops in that neighbourhood, the whole country on the west was open to the invaders. Their victorious army corps operating there was now able to swing round to attack the British left, and their cavalry was already sweeping in flying squadrons and patrols over the country-side. In fact, the French Channel ports, from Boulogne to Havre, were there for the taking, and the French coast line, for which the enemy fought so valiantly a few months later, would have been theirs without a struggle.

But these facts were only vaguely realised in the Force, and the men, of course, knew nothing of doings save only upon their immediate front. At every moment they fully expected to make a definite stand, with an advance to follow, and thus they remained in good heart, secure in the conviction that though badly mauled they were not even at the beginning of a defeat. But some of us knew and realised, and it was a hard task to keep the knowledge from the men and from the friendly country-folk.

CHAPTER IX
THE SECOND DAY

Gloucester, 'tis true that we are in great danger;
The greater, therefore, should our courage be.—
. . . . God Almighty!
There is some soul of goodness in things evil,
Would men observingly distil it out.
For our bad neighbour makes us early stirrers,
Which is both healthful and good husbandry.

During the night of Monday the whole Force was on or about the line already indicated, with the fortress of Maubeuge on their right flank. But let it not be imagined that the men settled down quietly at 9 P.M. to a cosy supper with a night's sleep to follow. There was no such thing as a halt for any time. Incidentally, most of the horses went through the whole business without being off-saddled once. The first regiments in were the first to move off again. The men just dropped down in the road where they halted and, if lucky, snatched ten minutes' sleep. Many of the men seemed to sleep while they marched; although, as one has often done it on night manoeuvres at home, there was nothing curious about that.

By midnight I do not think that anybody very much cared what happened. There was a certain amount of trench digging going on, and there was, in consequence, some idea that a stand would be made. But the men were really too exhausted to care one way or the other.

It is all very well to remark upon their invariable cheeriness, as most writers seem to delight in doing, but it gives a hopelessly wrong impression of the hardships. A certain form of "cheery spirit" is inseparable from the British soldier when he is up against a tough job, but you can't very well be lively and make funny remarks (as reported in the Press) when you have become an automaton in all your movements.

Had the French held firm, in all probability a stand would have been made on this line. But there is no object in speculating about it now. The view adopted by the Commander-in-Chief, which determined a further retreat, may best be given in his own words: