Joffre and His Army

by Charles Dawbarn

For two days the army marched into the old land of France without meeting serious opposition. Then the presence of strong outposts betokened the enemy. Dubail's army operating to the south strove to enter more deeply into German territory through Sarreburg; de Castelnau took the northern route through Delme and Morhange. Both were met by a tremendous opposition. The battle line stretched in rough crescent form through the three places I have named, Dubail's left wing being in contact with de Castelnau's right. The Germans had secretly organised a vast system of defence in which gun positions were established and distances marked. The trenches existed for miles and had been furnished with innumerable machine-guns and heavy mortars, the possession of which was now revealed for the first time. The battle was joined, therefore, in disadvantageous conditions for the French. Every ruse known in warfare was employed by the foe. It decked the trenches with dummies and led on the assailants to their doom, for mitrailleuses were posted behind the lay figures. Regiments lost more than half their effectives. An early victim was Lieutenant Xavier de Castelnau, one of the General's sons, who fell whilst leading his men of the 4th Battalion of Chasseurs to a counter-attack. He was mentioned for gallantry in the Orders of the Day.

The French soon discovered that the forces opposing them were no mere "cover" troops, but the Bavarian Army under its Crown Prince, an army under Von Heeringen and a strong detachment from Von Deimling's command. Forced to retreat, de Castelnau fell back ten miles to the Grand Couronné, which he fortified in the way I have described. Dubail, who had begun well with successes in the Vosges, was unable to maintain his position on the Sarre and fell back, also. His troops, especially the 21st Corps, behaved with great gallantry and only left Sarreburg under express orders, and then with colours flying and the band playing the Marche Lorraine. Though he delivered many attacks upon the enemy, he was forced to reform behind the Meurthe, and finally took up a position at Lunéville and in the fork between the stream just mentioned and the Mortaigne.

The attack on the Grand Couronné was particularly severe. Wave after wave of the enemy threw itself against the works held by de Castelnau's troops, who, though exhausted by a week's continuous marching and fighting, showed an unbreakable spirit. And there were brought to the attack, besides the armies I have mentioned, four new Corps composed of seventeen brigades of Ersatz, so that the hostile forces numbered nearly half-a-million men. The assailants were encouraged not merely by their numerical superiority—Dubail's army was about 150,000—but by their success in Lorraine, which had been hailed by their countrymen as a great victory. Furthermore, they were under the eye of the Emperor and a brilliant staff, who were watching them from the hill of Eply, to the north of the Couronné. The Kaiser's dramatic sense had been awakened by the thought of a triumphal entry into Nancy, the ancient capital of Lorraine. He realised what it would mean in the Fatherland, and that, from a military point, it would signify that a breach had been made in the defences of France. Alas, for human hopes! The walls of Jericho refused to fall to the trumpet's brazen call; and the Kaiser, after waiting in vain for a victory, departed sombre and silent for other fields.

The Germans tried every imaginable means to break through, and bloody were the struggles on hill-tops and in the woods of the region. A regiment, suddenly debouching from a forest, was mown down within a few yards of the French trenches, and a division, marching to the attack with drums and fifes playing, met with a similar fate. The Forest of Vitremont, near Lunéville, was filled with the bodies of Germans, computed to number 4500. Vigorous counter-attacks by de Castelnau from north to south, and by Dubail from west to east, finally held the enemy in check, and this uneasy equilibrium lasted for a fortnight—the tremendous fortnight in which Joffre saved Paris and sent the Germans flying to the north. At that moment, the eastern frontier from Nancy to the Vosges was free of the enemy; but at what a cost! Thousands had been lost on either side and villages had been burned and civilians assassinated by the Germans in pursuance of their studied policy of terrorisation.

De Castelnau's brilliant tactics brought him renown and the direction of the 2nd Army on the Compiègne-Arras line. Along this Front rising rectangularly from the Aisne to the north, occurred those terrific battles, which marked the historic "race to the sea." Smarting from their defeat on the Marne, the Germans sought to turn the Allies' left; Joffre had a similar idea in wishing to envelop the enemy's right. The resultant contest was the course à la mer. But the forces given to de Castelnau were inadequate for the purpose, and de Maud'huy's army was added to the line now creeping forward like a gigantic snake to the sea. But before the Germans tried to pierce at Lens and Arras, they assailed the lower line held by de Castelnau, and the angle formed by Aisne and Oise proved a particularly warm corner. In that late September and early October, de Castelnau lost as many men as in Lorraine, and the battles, if less renowned, were as fiercely fought as those to the north of Arras on the Yser and at Ypres.

The Germans in extending their lines realised that if they could reach Dunkirk and Calais they would not only cut England's communications, but point a pistol at her heart. And so they brought up army after army until the line stretched in a solid trunk of trenches with branches towards the sea, and 800,000 Germans (eighteen Army Corps and four Cavalry Corps) made persistent efforts to break through the Allies or envelop them. To defeat this plan, Joffre formed three new armies, of which de Castelnau's was one, and brought up the English from the Aisne, and the Belgians from Antwerp. The situation was often critical, for de Castelnau, like the other commanders, lacked ammunition. But his gift of prevision and his infinite resource saved the day. Eventually, the chief fighting was transferred to the northern part of the line, but de Castelnau's early resistance had rendered the greatest service. And so Joffre thought, for de Castelnau was given dominion over four armies from Soissons to Verdun, the longest front in the possession of a single commander, though Foch and Dubail were also given groups of armies. His tenure of the line was distinguished for the great offensive in Champagne, whereby 23,000 prisoners and 120 guns were captured by the French, and 3,000 prisoners and 25 guns by the English in Artois. That latter feat will be ever remembered for the house-to-house fighting in Loos and for the brilliant capture of Hill 70.

The General's vigour of body is as remarkable as his vigour of mind. He seems never to tire. In the Great War he took no particular care of his health, going to bed late and rising early with apparent impunity. Nor did he follow any system of diet, eating heartily with a Southerner's appreciation of a good table. An excellent horseman, the Great War left him little time for equestrian exercise. When commanding on the Somme he had horses at headquarters at Amiens, but he rode only once in seven or eight months. Like his chief he walked a good deal, not merely for exercise, but to get into direct touch with the troops. He believes in the closest relations between the leader and the led. He likes to recall the names and records of his officers and to ascertain the thoughts and sentiments of the men. His inspections behind the lines were no perfunctory affairs, but real examinations into moral and matériel. No detail of the kits escaped him, and he questioned soldiers as if searching consciences. Officers in his command have told me that his parades lasted a couple of hours or more. He never lost an opportunity of becoming acquainted with the elements of his armies. As he journeyed to the Front he would spring from his car to compliment a colonel on the appearance of his regiment, or turn aside to visit a hospital and comfort the inmates with cheery words. He is a believer in moral suasion and the uplift of words. Men going into battle look to him for encouragement, and never in vain. Officers in charge of them interrogate his personal staff: "What does the General say? Does he think we can win?" And upon the answer, which is certain to be positive and stimulating, depends their demeanour in the fight. There is something in the look of this soldier of the old school, courteous and chivalrous, with character, resolution, and intelligence, written in the high-coloured features, framed by the white hair that bespeak courage, health and confidence, and instil in others the bravery and sacrifice that are dominant in himself. This influence is heightened by the knowledge that he has himself suffered in his intimate affections. When the death of Gerald, his second son, occurred on the Marne—he was buried at Vitry-le-François—de Castelnau was engaged in a Council of War on the Eastern Front. The news was brought to him as he deliberated with his commanders on the plan of battle. After a painful moment he said with stoic calm, "Gentlemen, let us continue." And he bore with equal fortitude the news that another son had been wounded and taken prisoner at Arras.

Such calmness and composure spring from the deep conviction that all is for the best. Doubtless, there was something of predestination in the fact that he was baptized Noel-Marie, in allusion to the date of his birth, Christmas Eve. To his Catholic parents it was a sign and a symbol. His early training at a Jesuit College, before he entered St. Cyr, confirmed him in his principles, and he is of those who have practised always their faith. He attends Mass everyday, and when going to the Front at night he arouses a priest to take the Sacrament. He was the first to insist upon the attendance of chaplains with the forces. To his credit he has never concealed his faith, though there were times in the history of the Third Republic when it might have been politic to do so. Perhaps this sturdiness in his profession accounts for the slowness of his promotion. It began, however, with a rush—Captain at nineteen, in charge of a company in the Loire Army under General Davout, a grandson of Napoleon's famous Marshal; but he stayed long years working steadily but inconspicuously on the staff. The tide turned rapidly when he again commanded troops, and his quality was seen at once. For six years he was Colonel of the 37th Regiment of Infantry at Nancy (Turenne's old command), and here he obtained that deep knowledge of the country which stood him in such stead ten years later. He did not get his General's stars until 1906, and then commanded troops at Soissons, Sédan, and Chambrun. He distinguished himself in grand manoeuvres in the Bourbonnais, under the eye of General Tremeau, president of the War Council and the designated Commander-in-Chief under the old system. The new system, inaugurated by Joffre, brought him into close contact with the Generalissimo, whose Chief-of-Staff he became and collaborator in framing the Three-Years Law, then being passed by the Legislature. The same year he went to England to attend the Manoeuvres and afterwards conferred with the military chiefs; and a mission took him to Russia, where he discussed the lines of eventual co-operation.

Of an old Southern family, the General was born (in 1851) at St. Affrique in the Aveyron, the old Rouergue which came to the French Crown under Henri IV. He likes to speak the patois with soldiers from the district, but he is not democratic in the French sense of the word, though familiar in his dealings with the ranks and solicitous for their welfare. But he is exacting where discipline is concerned, and not only gives orders but sees that they are executed. His staff as well as his regimental officers respect his strenuous temper. His family is noted for intellectual distinction. Some of his brothers, as well as his sons, were at the Polytechnique, the famous mathematical school. He, himself, is both classical and mathematical. If he has little English and less German, and his pronunciation of English place-names amuses his Anglo-Saxon friends, he is a brilliant classic, and jokes in Latin, when the mood takes, with his staff. Nevertheless he is thoroughly modern in his appreciation of science and gives a chance to any likely inventor. Manufacturers are numbered amongst his family, and the largest coal-mine in the south belongs to it. His father, however, was a jurist and a friend of the economist, Le Play.

The General's vigour comes from the natural energy of his mind. In his boyhood there were few sports in France, but he likes to tell his intimates that he played a sort of football, with an inflated ball, in his lycée in the mountains. His youngest son is a well-known champion of the Rugby game. Of his six sons, each went to the war. Three were already in the Army, one was at school, another in the Navy, and a third an engineer. The record is a tribute to the patriotism—no uncommon trait—of provincial France. And there are those who, ignorant of the austerity of her Catholic families, declared that France was decadent! Of the General's six daughters—for Providence has blessed him with a full quiver—one has had her arm amputated, having been infected with gangrene whilst nursing in a hospital. Such courage and devotion are well exemplified in the mother, who heard of her son's death whilst attending the little church where it is her habit to go daily. "Which one?" she asked, almost inaudibly of the curé, as she saw by his look of tenderness, that he had bad news to communicate. She thought of her husband, and of her sons at the Front, and when the name was pronounced, with a soft sigh of resignation she bowed her silvery head a little lower over the breviary, and proceeded with outward tranquillity, though with a torn heart, to receive the consolation of her religion.