His men wondered what he meant. Some halted, believing it to be a new order which demanded further attention, until a smart young subaltern, smiling behind his hand, shouted out, “Sauve qui peut—Every man for himself!”
And at this there was a helter-skelter flight on the part of the whole battalion.
The Uhlans, however, were not to be denied, and, circling round through Attercliffe, and thence south towards Richmond Park, they effectively placed themselves across the line of retreat of many of the fugitives.
The latter practically ran straight into the lines of the Germans, who called to them to lay down their arms, and in half an hour along the cordon over two thousand five hundred British of all arms found themselves prisoners in the hands of Von Landsberg, upon whose brigade the brunt of this attack had fallen.
General von Wedel, of the 14th Cavalry Brigade, was not inactive. He pursued the flying columns along all the roads and country north-east of the city. From the south came news of the cavalry of the VIIIth Corps, which had circled through Dronfield, Woodhouse, Totley, along Abbey Dale, till they made an unresisted entry into Sheffield from the south.
Within the town it was quickly seen that the day was lost. All resistance had been beaten down by the victorious invaders, and now, at the Town Hall, the British flag was hauled down, and the German ensign replaced it. From every street leading out of the city to the west poured a flying mob of disorganised British troops, evidently bent upon making the best of their way into the hilly district of the Peak of Derbyshire, where, in the course of time, they might hope to reorganise and re-establish themselves.
The German pursuit, although very strenuous on the part of the cavalry as far as effecting the occupation of the city was concerned, did not extend very much beyond it. Clearly the invaders did not want to be burdened with a large number of British prisoners whom they had no means of interning, and whom it would be difficult to place on parole. What they wanted was to strike terror in the great cities of the north.
Sheffield was now theirs. Nearly all the ammunition and stores of the defenders had fallen into their hands, and they were enabled to view, with apparent equanimity, the spectacle of retreating masses of British infantry, yeomanry, and artillery. Westwards along the network of roads leading in the direction of the High Peak, Derwent Dale, Bradfield, Buxton, and on to Glossop, the British were fast retreating, evidently making Manchester their objective.
Sheffield was utterly dumbfounded. The barricades had been broken down and swept away. The troops, of whom they had hoped so much, had been simply swept away, and now the streets were full of burly foreigners. George Street swarmed with Westphalian infantry and men of Lorraine; in Church Street a squadron of Uhlans were drawn up opposite the Sheffield and Hallamshire Bank, while the sidewalk was occupied by piled arms of the 39th Fusilier Regiment. In the space around the Town Hall the 6th Infantry Regiment of the Rhine and a regiment of Cuirassiers were standing at ease. Many of the stalwart sons of the Fatherland were seen to light their pipes and stolidly enjoy a smoke, while officers in small groups stood here and there discussing the events of the victorious day.
The saddest scenes were to be witnessed at the Royal Infirmary, in Infirmary Road, at the Royal Hospital in West Street, and even in some of the vacant wards in the Jessop Hospital for Women in Victoria Street, which had to be requisitioned for the accommodation of the crowds of wounded of both nations, so constantly being brought in by carts, carriages, motor-cars, and even cabs.