The Commander-in-Chief was Sir John French, of whom we have already heard. The 1st Army Corps, which was posted to the east of Mons, was commanded by Sir Douglas Haig, a cavalryman like Sir John French, and one of the youngest of British generals. He had seen service in the Sudan and in South Africa, and had held high military positions at home and in India. The 2nd Army Corps, which was posted along the line of the canal west of Mons, was commanded by General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien, also a brilliant soldier, who did fine work in South Africa. The cavalry division was under Major-General Allenby, one of the most famous cavalry scouts in the British army, and the 5th Cavalry Brigade was commanded by Sir Philip Chetwode.
During the 22nd and 23rd of August the 5th Cavalry Brigade and some other cavalry squadrons pushed far to the north, and did some excellent scouting work. They also met the advanced patrols of the enemy, and there were several small fights, in which our troops showed to great advantage. One of these fights took place at the corner of a village street, where a party of our hussars rode down a strong detachment of German cavalry. The two forces met front to front, and there were wild hurrahs as our men charged the enemy with flashing sabres. It was all over in a few minutes, and the Germans were driven back in confusion. "Men and horses were heavier than we were," wrote one of the British hussars who was wounded in the skirmish, "but our men were smarter and handier."
Map showing British and French Positions at the Battles of Mons and Charleroi.
You know that von Kluck's army entered Brussels on 20th August. An American writer who fell in with an advance division tells us that the Germans marched at a very rapid pace towards the Franco-Belgian frontier to meet the Allies. To keep up with the column he was forced to move at a steady trot. The men did not bend the knees, but keeping the legs straight, shot them forward with a quick, sliding movement as though they were skating or ski-ing.[16] Many of them fell by the wayside, but they were not permitted to lie there, but were lifted to their feet and flung back into the ranks. The halts were frequent, and so exhausted were the poor fellows that, instead of standing at ease, they dropped to the road as though they had been struck with a club. It was these forced marches which brought von Kluck's army so rapidly to the right wing of the Allies.
While our soldiers from Condé to Binche were busy digging trenches and gun-pits, and clearing their front of cover, they could hear away to the right the dull roar of cannon. Fighting was going on not only at Namur but along the Sambre. You know that von Buelow's army was marching along the north bank of the Meuse towards Namur, and that the Saxon army was moving towards the same place along the southern bank. On the evening of the day on which the Germans entered Brussels the first shots were fired at the fortress. It was a sultry evening, and behind the screen of haze the great howitzers were placed in position. They began to fire on the Belgian trenches to the north-east of the city, and all night continued to bombard them with great accuracy. Any man who lifted his head was immediately hit. The guns were three miles away, so the Belgians had no chance of rushing on the foe with the bayonet as they had done at Liége. They were forced to wait and suffer. After enduring ten hours of bursting shrapnel, which killed large numbers of them, they were obliged to withdraw, and the Germans pushed within the ring of forts and took up a position on the ridge of St. Marc north of the city.[17]
Meanwhile two of the eastern forts had fallen. Upon the fort just to the south of the Meuse the Germans guns rained shells at the rate of twenty a minute, and it was only able to fire ten shots in reply. The shells wrecked concrete and turrets alike, and nothing could resist them. The fort directly to the north of the river held out longer; but when seventy-five of its garrison had been slain, it too was forced to yield. At the same time the southern line of forts was fiercely bombarded, and after an attack of two hours three of them were silenced, and a German force was pushed across the Meuse into the southern part of the angle between that river and the Sambre. All day long an infantry battle raged, and the Belgians hoped against hope that the French would come to their assistance.
Next morning, 22nd August, five thousand French troops, mostly Turcos, arrived from the west, but they were too late and too few to save the fortress. It was a black, dread day for the Allies. The skies were darkened by an eclipse of the sun, and the people of Namur were in a state of panic. German aeroplanes flew over the place and dropped bombs, which killed many of the inhabitants and fired their houses. The heavens thundered, the great guns roared, and Namur fell.