"But why just exactly there," asked Horace, "if the position is so strong?"
"It isn't, it's the weakest point," the hunchback answered. "As you know, the French-German frontier is the most strongly fortified line in the world. The forts are in four groups, Belfort and Epinal to the south, Toul and Verdun to the north. Belfort and Epinal are in difficult, mountainous country, further away from Paris and less valuable for railway purposes. It would be bad strategy, too, to break through at the southern fort and leave the northern forts unreduced, for it would cut the attacking army in two and give the northern forts a chance to snip the Line of Communication. Verdun is enormously strong. That leaves nothing but an assault on the sector of Toul.
"Now," continued the hunchback, "you've got to understand the Alsace-Lorraine campaign. On August 10, while the forts of Liége were still holding out and Leman was peppering Von Emmich, we invaded Germany. We had nothing but victories for nine days. It was too easy. On August 20 one of our air scouts came back with the news that there was a huge German army gathering at Metz. On August 21, five army corps were hurled on our flank. We were surprised, partly surrounded and crumpled up. The Boches got thousands of prisoners and scores of guns and Field Marshal Von Heeringen drove us clear back out of Germany. On August 25, the Crown Prince of Bavaria drove us back from before Nancy, and the German Crown Prince finally burst into France through Longwy. That was the beginning and the end of our Vosges campaign."
As the hunchback pointed out, however, while this campaign was of little military value, it had a vast political and strategic value. It mistakenly convinced the German High Command that France had concentrated the larger part of her armies on the frontier in the hope of retaking Alsace-Lorraine. This made more difficult, but also rendered more important, a victory at Toul.
Le Grand Couronne is a series of little hills, not more than 600 feet high at any point, lying north and a little east of Nancy. It was no use to take the city unless the heights were captured. If, however, the Germans took Le Grand Couronne, the French must evacuate Nancy and the invaders could then bring their heavy siege guns into place to demolish Toul.
"A Boche skull is thick," Croquier went on, "and even the slaughter of Liége didn't teach them the waste of life in sending masses of troops against artillery. They hadn't any idea, either, of the powers of our 'Soixante-Quinze.' For a week they did nothing but pile up hills of the iron-gray dead on the slopes leading up from the River Seille. They'll never take it now."
There Croquier was right. On that evening of September 4, where the two were sitting, chatting, in the little attic room, Von Heeringen knew that further attack was hopeless. Two days later, however, the Kaiser was seen in person on the hills overlooking the battle, in white uniform and silver helmet, waiting for his triumphal entry into Nancy—which never happened.
It was this decisive and unexpected defeat which convinced the Germans that the French were in great strength at this point and which caused them to send their heaviest reënforcements on the eastern end of the attacking line, instead of reënforcing Von Kluck and Von Buelow who were nearest to Paris.
"It's the same old combination which smashed us at Charleroi, then," said Horace, "which threatens Paris."
"Yes," the hunchback agreed, "and, what's more, it's the same old clash between German and French strategy. The diamond, now, has been squashed nearly flat, but you can see the formation, still."