The pursuit went on for hours. When daylight broke it had not diminished in vigour, and, the country being an open marsh, the enemy, deprived of the trenches in which they love to fight, could find no point of support and were kept on the run. Many of them, far too heavily accoutred, fell from exhaustion, and soon they began to surrender in squads and companies.
Cavalry on our left front made a demonstration, but the ground was so rotten that they could not charge; and we soon began to come up with guns embedded in the mud. Gunners and horses were bayoneted, and the guns afterwards fell into our hands. I was told that hundreds were taken; certainly whole batteries were left behind, the majority of the horses having been worked to death in an endeavour to drag them away. I saw them lying dead harnessed to guns and waggons. Some were still dying, groaning pitifully, and not a few were put out of their misery by men whom the fiercest passion could not deprive of some sense of compassion for innocent suffering. I came upon a German gunner engaged in this praiseworthy work, and gave him a friendly nod. He returned the nod with equal friendliness before hopping after his comrades with a couple of pounds of mud clinging to each boot. Ah! war is a sad, sad business. It must be bred of the devil: for one would rather lose his soul than fail to sabre or stab the foe in front of him; and yet when the fierce rage of the fight is over, one would give the whole world not to have done such a thing.
The Prussians must have had reserves in the field, but we saw nothing of them. Either they were dealt with by other bodies of our troops, or, seeing that the day was lost, took the hint and did not wait. Our men kept up the pursuit until nearly noon the next morning, when the majority of them were so exhausted that they threw themselves on the ground and slept where they lay, with the rain pelting down upon them.
This action was known to the Russians as the "Battle of Suvalki," and was the nearest approach to an old-fashioned fight that had taken place. It was a tremendous affair, fought on a front of nearly thirty English miles; and was a complete, unqualified German defeat. They lost about 30,000 killed and wounded, and nearly as many more taken prisoners. The Kaiser was in personal command throughout the action; and is responsible for the precious mess made of it. About 300 field-guns were captured, but some of them were so firmly embedded in the mud that they could not be dragged off, horses being scarce. According to my estimate at least 8,000 of these poor beasts perished in the fight. There is no exaggeration in these estimations. One column of prisoners alone which I passed on its way to the interior of Russia was five miles long, the men marching without a break, in double file, or six abreast, according to German formation. (The German file is usually three men deep, and not two, as it is in most other European armies.)
Both sides were thoroughly exhausted by this tremendous struggle; and there was no fighting on the latter part of the 1st and the whole of the 2nd of October; at any rate by the troops which had been engaged in the main battle. On the 3rd we resumed our advance into Prussia, but late in the afternoon were ordered to halt, and the remainder of the day was spent in taking up an alignment facing due north towards Tilsit. The object of this movement was not clear to me; but there can be no doubt that our position was sometimes almost critical. The force which fought the Battle of Suvalki was outflanked both to the north and to the south, and had we suffered defeat the disaster would have been a terrible one. The Russians had not only a huge marsh in their rear, but also a large and deep river (the Niemen), and what that might have meant may be gathered from the fearful losses of the Germans when they were forced, as a part of the movement I have been describing, over it to the north of Suvalki. Not much about this disaster seems to have leaked out as yet, but it cost the Germans at least another 20,000 men, nearly all of whom perished by drowning; in fact, the passage of the Niemen is second only, as a military débâcle, to that of the Beresina in Napoleon's days. Eye-witnesses, whose veracity cannot be questioned, amongst them being General Rennenkampf, asserted that whole companies, and batteries of artillery, were swept away, the heavy rains having greatly increased the current of the river. Heavy siege guns, destined for the bombardment of Warsaw, were lost; and several of the bridges constructed by the German engineers collapsed under the excessive weight forced upon them; while two of these structures were demolished by the Russian shell fire, being crowded with men at the time. In fact, whatever the outcome of the campaign, the Germans will never forget the dressing they got at the passage of the Niemen below Tilsit.
The effect of the battle of Suvalki was very great. The German objective had been Warsaw, and they tried to seize it, as they tried to seize Paris, by a rapid and impetuous advance. They had reached Suvalki and Rovno in the north, and their advanced parties were on their way to Wilna, the capture of which would have cut the communications of Warsaw; while southwards they had reached Radom, 140 miles over the border, and two-thirds of the way to Warsaw. Suvalki saved Warsaw; for it compelled the Germans to fall back north and south and evacuate West Poland. It is beyond all measure the most important victory the Russians have gained; for though the loss of Warsaw would not necessarily mean the loss of the war, it would be a nasty blow to the Muscovite prestige, and might entail the loss of Petrograd. As one of their most fervent well-wishers I heartily rejoice that they won Suvalki. It must have been a knock-down blow for Wilhelm der Grosse, as it showed conclusively that if he is a Napoleonic tyrant he is not a Napoleonic genius. Like the little man with the large head he is a big scoundrel; but, unlike the Corsican, he is not a great soldier.
A wonderful army, though, is this German Army. After suffering a crushing defeat and losing, with those drowned in the Niemen, from 70,000 to 80,000 men, they drew off in fairly good order, and in a few days were again a formidable host. They did not sustain a "rout." No fair, impartial account of what really occurred can go so far as to say that. A crushing defeat it was, but not a rout.
These operations cost the Germans, in addition to their loss of men, about 700 guns of various descriptions and 18,000 horses. About 850 waggons and carts fell into the Russian hands.