north--postponed owing to the necessity of waiting for the British Army.
On Aug. 20 the concentration of our lines was finished and the General
in Chief gave orders for our centre and our left to take the offensive.
Our centre comprised two armies. Our left consisted of a third army,
reinforced to the extent of two army corps, a corps of cavalry, the
reserve divisions, the British Army, and the Belgian Army, which had
already been engaged for the previous three weeks at Liège, Namur, and
Louvain.
[Illustration: [map]]
The German plan on that date was as follows: From seven to eight army
corps and four cavalry divisions were endeavoring to pass between Givet
and Brussels, and even to prolong their movements more to the west. Our
object was, therefore, in the first place, to hold and dispose of the
enemy's centre and afterward to throw ourselves with all available
forces on the left flank of the German grouping of troops in the north.
On Aug. 21 our offensive in the centre began with ten army corps. On
Aug. 22 it failed, and this reverse appeared serious.
The reasons for it are complex. There were in this affair individual and
collective failures, imprudences committed under the fire of the enemy,
divisions ill-engaged, rash deployments, precipitate retreats, a
premature waste of men, and, finally, the inadequacy of certain of our
troops and their leaders, both as regards the use of infantry and
artillery.
In consequence of these lapses the enemy, turning to account the
difficult terrain, was able to secure the maximum of profit from the
advantages which the superiority of his subaltern complements gave him.
OPERATIONS SOUTH OF SAMBRE.
In spite of this defeat our manoeuvre had still a chance of success, if
our left and the British Army obtained a decisive result. This was
unfortunately not the case. On Aug. 22, at the cost of great losses, the
enemy succeeded in crossing the Sambre and our left army fell back on
the 24th upon Beaumont-Givet, being perturbed by the belief that the
enemy was threatening its right.
On the same day, (the 24th,) the British Army fell back after a German
attack upon the Maubeuge-Valenciennes line. On the 25th and 26th its
retreat became more hurried. After Landrecies and Le Cateau it fell back
southward by forced marches. It could not from this time keep its hold
until after crossing the Marne.
The rapid retreat of the English, coinciding with the defeat sustained
in Belgian Luxembourg, allowed the enemy to cross the Meuse and to
accelerate, by fortifying it, the action of his right.
The situation at this moment may be thus summed up: Either our frontier
had to be defended on the spot under conditions which the British
retreat rendered extremely perilous, or we had to execute a strategic
retirement which, while delivering up to the enemy a part of the
national soil, would permit us, on the other hand, to resume the
offensive at our own time with a favorable disposition of troops, still
intact, which we had at our command. The General in Chief determined on
the second alternative.
PREPARATION OF THE OFFENSIVE.
Henceforward the French command devoted its efforts to preparing the
offensive. To this end three conditions had to be fulfilled:
1. The retreat had to be carried out in order under a succession of
counter-attacks which would keep the enemy busy.
2. The extreme point of this retreat must be fixed in such a way that
the different armies should reach it simultaneously, ready at the moment
of occupying it to resume the offensive all together.
3. Every circumstance permitting of a resumption of the offensive before
this point should be reached must be utilized by the whole of our forces
and the British forces.
THE FRENCH COUNTER-ATTACK.
The counter-attacks, executed during the retreat, were brilliant and
often fruitful. On Aug. 20 we successfully attacked St. Quentin to
disengage the British Army. Two other corps and a reserve division
engaged the Prussian Guard and the Tenth German Army Corps, which was
debouching from Guise. By the end of the day, after various
fluctuations, the enemy was thrown back on the Oise and the British
front was freed.
On Aug. 27 we had also succeeded in throwing back upon the Meuse the
enemy, who was endeavoring to gain a foothold on the left bank. Our
successes continued on the 28th in the woods of Marfée and of Jaulnay.
Thanks to them we were able, in accordance with the orders of the
General in Chief, to fall back on the Buzancy-Le Chesne-Bouvellemont
line.
Further to the right another army took part in the same movement and
carried out successful attacks on Aug. 25 on the Othain and in the
region of Spincourt.
On the 26th these different units recrossed the Meuse without being
disturbed and were able to join in the action of our centre. Our armies
were, therefore, again intact and available for the offensive.
On Aug. 26 a new army composed of two army corps, five reserve
divisions, and a Moorish brigade was constituted. This army was to
assemble in the region of Amiens between Aug. 27 and Sept. 1 and take
the offensive against the German right, uniting its action with that of
the British Army, operating on the line of Ham-Bray-sur-Somme.
CONTINUATION OF THE RETREAT.
The hope of resuming the offensive was from this moment rendered vain by
the rapidity of the march of the German right wing. This rapidity had
two consequences, which we had to parry before thinking of advancing. On
the one hand, our new army had not time to complete its detraining, and,
on the other hand, the British Army, forced back further by the enemy,
uncovered on Aug. 31 our left flank. Our line, thus modified, contained
waves which had to be redressed before we could pass to the offensive.
To understand this it is sufficient to consider the situation created by
the quick advance of the enemy on the evening of Sept. 2.
A corps of cavalry had crossed the Oise and advanced as far as Château
Thierry. The First Army, (General von Kluck,) comprising four active
army corps and a reserve corps, had passed Compiègne.
The Second Army, (General von Bülow,) with three active army corps and
two reserve corps, was reaching the Laon region.
The Third Army, (General von Hausen,) with two active army corps and a
reserve corps, had crossed the Aisne between the Château Porcien and
Attigny.
More to the east the Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Armies, namely,
twelve army corps, four reserve corps, and numerous Ersatz formations,
were in contact with our troops, the Fourth and Fifth Armies between
Vouziers and Verdun and the others in the positions which have been
indicated above, from Verdun to the Vosges.
It will, therefore, be seen that our left, if we accepted battle, might
be in great peril through the British forces and the new French Army,
operating more to the westward, having given way.
A defeat in these conditions would have cut off our armies from Paris
and from the British forces and at the same time from the new army which
had been constituted to the left of the English. We should thus be
running the risk of losing by a single stroke the advantage of the
assistance which Russia later on was to furnish.
General Joffre chose resolutely for the solution which disposed of these
risks, that is to say, for postponing the offensive and the continuance
of the retreat. In this way he remained on ground which he had chosen.
He waited only until he could engage in better conditions.
In consequence, on Sept. 1, he fixed as an extreme limit for the
movement of retreat, which was still going on, the line of
Bray-sur-Seine, Nogent-sur-Seine, Arcis-sur-Aube, Vitry-le-François, and
the region to the north of Bar-le-Duc. This line might be reached if the
troops were compelled to go back so far. They would attack before
reaching it, as soon as there was a possibility of bringing about an
offensive disposition, permitting the co-operation of the whole of our
forces.
THE EVE OF THE OFFENSIVE.
On Sept. 5 it appeared that this desired situation existed.
The First Germany Army, carrying audacity to temerity, had continued its
endeavor to envelop our left, had crossed the Grand Morin, and reached
the region of Chauffry, to the south of Rebaix and of Esternay. It aimed
then at cutting our armies off from Paris, in order to begin the
investment of the capital.
The Second Army had its head on the line Champaubert, Etoges, Bergeres,
and Vertus.
The Third and Fourth Armies reached to Chalons-sur-Marne and
Bussy-le-Repos. The Fifth Army was advancing on one side and the other
from the Argonne as far as Triacourt-les-Islettes and Juivecourt. The
Sixth and Seventh Armies were attacking more to the east.
But--and here is a capital difference between the situation of Sept. 5
and that of Sept. 2--the envelopment of our left was no longer possible.
In the first place, our left army had been able to occupy the line of
Sézanne, Villers-St. Georges and Courchamps. Furthermore, the British
forces, gathered between the Seine and the Marne, flanked on their left
by the newly created army, were closely connected with the rest of our
forces.
This was precisely the disposition which the General in Chief had wished
to see achieved. On the 4th he decided to take advantage of it, and
ordered all the armies to hold themselves ready. He had taken from his
right two new army corps, two divisions of infantry, and two divisions
of cavalry, which were distributed between his left and his centre.
On the evening of the 5th he addressed to all the commanders of armies a
message ordering them to attack.
"The hour has come," he wrote, "to advance at all costs, and to die
where you stand rather than give way."
_(To be continued in the next issue.)_
BY THE NORTH SEA.
By W.L. COURTNEY.
[From King Albert's Book.]
Death and Sorrow and Sleep:
Here where the slow waves creep,
This is the chant I hear,
The chant of the measureless deep.
What was sorrow to me
Then, when the young life free
Thirsted for joys of earth
Far from the desolate sea?
What was Sleep but a rest,
Giving to youth the best
Dreams from the ivory gate,
Visions of God manifest?
What was Death but a tale
Told to faces grown pale,
Worn and wasted with years--
A meaningless thing to the bale?
Death and Sorrow and Sleep:
Now their sad message I keep,
Tossed on the wet wind's breath,
The chant of the measureless deep.
When Marthe Chenal Sang the "Marseillaise"
By Wythe Williams
[From THE NEW YORK TIMES, Feb. 14, 1915.]
I went to the Opéra Comique the other day to hear Marthe Chenal sing the
"Marseillaise." For several weeks previous I had heard a story going the
rounds of what is left of Paris life to the effect that if one wanted a
regular old-fashioned thrill he really should go to the Opéra Comique on
a day when Mlle. Chenal closed the performance by singing the French
national hymn. I was told there would be difficulty in securing a seat.
I was rather skeptical. I also considered that I had had sufficient
thrills since the beginning of the war, both old fashioned and new. I
believed also that I had already heard the "Marseillaise" sung under the
best possible circumstances to produce thrills. One of the first nights
after mobilization 10,000 Frenchmen filled the street beneath the
windows of THE NEW YORK TIMES office, where I was at work. They sang the
"Marseillaise" for two hours, with a solemn hatred of their national
enemy sounding in every note. The solemnity changed to a wild passion as
the night wore on. Finally, cuirassiers of the guard rode through the
street to disperse the mob. It was a terrific scene.
So I was willing to admit that the "Marseillaise" is probably the most
thrilling and most martial national song ever written, but I was just
not keen on the subject of thrills.
Then one day a sedate friend went to the Opéra Comique and came away in
a raving condition. It was a week before his ardor subsided. He declared
that this rendition of a song was something that will be referred to in
future years. "Why," he said, "when the war is over the French will
talk about it in the way Americans still talk concerning Jenny Lind at
Castle Garden, or De Wolf Hopper reciting 'Casey at the Bat.'"
This induced me to go. I was convinced that whether I got a thrill or
not the singing of the "Marseillaise" by Chenal had become a distinct
feature of Paris life during the war.
I never want to go again. To go again might deepen my impression--might
better register the thrill. But then it might not be just the same. I
would be keyed to such expectancy that I might be disappointed. Persons
in the seats behind me might whisper. And just as Chenal got to the
"Amour sacré de la patrie" some one might cough. I am confident that
something of the sort would surely happen. I want always to remember
that ten minutes while Chenal was on the stage just as I remember it
now. So I will not go again.
The first part of the performance was Donizetti's "Daughter of the
Regiment," beautifully sung by members of the regular company. But
somehow the spectacle of a fat soprano nearing forty in the role of the
twelve-year-old vivandière, although impressive, was not sublime. A
third of the audience were soldiers. In the front row of the top balcony
were a number of wounded. Their bandaged heads rested against the rail.
Several of them yawned.
After the operetta came a "Ballet of the Nations." The "nations," of
course, represented the Allies. We had the delectable vision of the
Russian ballerina dancing with arms entwined about several maids of
Japan. The Scotch lassies wore violent blue jackets. The Belgian girls
carried large pitchers and rather wept and watered their way about the
stage. There were no thrills.
After the intermission there was not even available standing space. The
majority of the women were in black--the prevailing color in these days.
The only touches of brightness and light were in the uniforms of the
officers liberally sprinkled through the orchestra and boxes.
Then came "Le Chant du Depart," the famous song of the revolution. The
scene was a little country village. The principals were the officer, the
soldier, the wife, the mother, the daughter, and the drummer boy. There
was a magnificent soldier chorus and the fanfare of drums and trumpets.
The audience then became honestly enthusiastic. I concluded that the
best Chenal could do with the "Marseillaise," which was next on the
programme, would be an anti-climax.
The orchestra played the opening bars of the martial music. With the
first notes the vast audience rose. I looked up at the row of wounded
leaning heavily against the rail, their eyes fixed and staring on the
curtain. I noticed the officers in the boxes, their eyes glistening. I
heard a convulsive catch in the throats of persons about me. Then the
curtain lifted.
I do not remember what was the stage setting. I do not believe I saw it.
All I remember was Chenal standing at the top of a short flight of
steps, in the centre near the back drop. I indistinctly remember that
the rest of the stage was filled with the soldier chorus and that near
the footlights on either side were clusters of little children.
"Up, sons of France, the call of glory"----
Chenal swept down to the footlights. The words of the song swept over
the audience like a bugle call. The singer wore a white silk gown draped
in perfect Grecian folds. She wore the large black Alsatian head dress,
in one corner of which was pinned a small tri-colored cockade. She has
often been called the most beautiful woman in Paris. The description
was too limited. With the next lines she threw her arms apart, drawing
out the folds of the gown into the tricolor of France--heavy folds of
red silk draped over one arm and blue over the other. Her head was
thrown back. Her tall, slender figure simply vibrated with the feeling
of the words that poured forth from her lips. She was noble. She was
glorious. She was sublime. With the "March on, March on" of the chorus,
her voice arose high and fine over the full orchestra, and even above
her voice could be sensed the surging emotions of the audience that
seemed to sweep over the house in waves.
I looked up at the row of wounded. One man held his bandaged head
between his hands and was crying. An officer in a box, wearing the
gorgeous uniform of the headquarters staff, held a handkerchief over his
eyes.
Through the second verse the audience alternately cheered and stamped
their feet and wept. Then came the wonderful "Amour sacré de la
patrie"--sacred love of home and country--verse. The crashing of the
orchestra ceased, dying away almost to a whisper. Chenal drew the folds
of the tricolor cloak about her. Then she bent her head and, drawing the
flag to her lips, kissed it reverently. The first words came like a sob
from her soul. From then until the end of the verse, when her voice
again rang out over the renewed efforts of the orchestra, one seemed to
live through all the glorious history of France. At the very end, when
Chenal drew a short jeweled sword from the folds of her gown and stood,
silent and superb, with the folds of the flag draped about her, while
the curtain rang slowly down, she seemed to typify both Empire and
Republic throughout all time. All the best of the past seemed
concentrated there as that glorious woman, with head raised high, looked
into the future.
And as I came out of the theatre with the silent audience I said to
myself that a nation with a song and a patriotism such as I had just
witnessed could not vanish from the earth--nor again be vanquished.
A War of Commerce to Follow
By Sir William Ramsay
That commerce in Germany is regarded as war, that the
"powerful mass of the German State" is projected into methods
meant to kill off the trade of other nations, and that after
the war between the nations the German war with British trade
will be resumed, is the burden of this address. Sir William
Ramsay delivered it in Manchester on Jan. 22, 1915, before
representatives of British associations of employers and of
leading industrial concerns in many parts of the United
Kingdom, making up the Employers' Parliamentary Association.
Sir William is one of the world's great chemists.
I suppose that among my audience some are convinced free traders, while
some believe that our commercial interests would be better served by a
measure of protection. This is neither the time nor the place, nor have
I the knowledge and ability for a discussion of this much-debated
question. Nor will I reveal my own private views, except in so far as to
say that I agree with the majority. But, as the question cannot be
ignored, I should like to say that I hold firmly the conviction that all
trade should be carried on for the mutual advantage of the parties
engaged. The old fable of Æsop may be quoted, which relates to a quarrel
between the different members of the body. Every one of us can be, and
should be, helpful to every other, independent of nation, country, and
creed. That is, I am sure, what lies on the conscience of each one of
us, as an ultimate end to be struggled for, although perhaps by many
considered unattainable.
For the same kind of reason, it appears to me that we all think that
peace is a blessing, and war a curse. For under peace commerce and
industry prosper; science and the arts flourish; friendships are made
and adorn the amenities of life. Moreover, our religious traditions in
all Christian countries, and in some non-Christian ones like China,
influence us to believe that war is wrong, indefensible, and, in the
present year of our Lord, an anachronism.
We imagined, perhaps not most, but many of us, that no important
European nation thought differently. Your leading Liberal paper, The
Manchester Guardian, on July 22, 1908, wrote, "Germany, though the most
military of nations, is probably the least warlike"; and this doubtless
represented the views of the majority of Englishmen. Some of us knew
better. I have, or had, many German friends; we have lived for many
years on a footing of mutual kindliness; but it was impossible to
disregard the signs of the times. The reason of this war is at bottom,
as we have now discovered, the existence of a wholly different ideal in
the Germanic mind from that which lies at the base of the Latin,
Anglo-Saxon, Dutch, or Scandinavian nations. Such a statement as this is
sweeping; it can be illustrated by a trivial tale. In 1912 an
international scientific congress met at Berlin; I was a member.
Although the conventional language was German, in compliment to our
hosts, it turned out that in the long run all discussions were conducted
in French. After such a sitting, the members separated, the German
committee remaining behind for business purposes. The question of
language was raised, I think by a Dutchman, in the corridor. Of the
representatives of the fourteen or fifteen nations present, all were
agreed on this--that they were not going to be compelled to publish in
German; some chose English; some French; Spanish was suggested as a
simple and easily understood language; but there was no love lost
between the "foreign" and the German representatives, and this not the
least on personal, but purely on national grounds. Acknowledging to the
full the existence of high-minded German gentlemen, it is a sad fact
that the character of the individuals of the nation is not acceptable
to individuals of other nations. Listen to a quotation from a letter I
have received from a very distinguished Swiss: "Une chose me frappait
aussi, dans les tendances allemandes, une incroyable inconscience.
Accaparer le bien d'autrui leur paraissait si naturel qu'ils ne
comprenaient même pas que l'on eût quelque desir de se défendre. Le
monde entier était fait pour constituer le champ d'exploitation de
l'Allemagne, et celui qui s'opposait á l'accomplissement de cette
destinée était, pour tout allemand, l'objet d'une surprise."
[Translation: "One thing has also struck me in German tendencies; that
is an unbelievable want of conscience. To grab the belongings of others
appeared to them so natural, that they did not understand that one had
some wish to defend himself. The whole world was made for the field of
German operations, and whoever placed himself in opposition to the
accomplishment of this destiny was for every German the object of
surprise."] The view is not new; the feeling of surprise at opposition
was expressed wittily by a French poet in the words:
Cet animal est trés mechant;
Lorsqu'on l'attaque, il se defend.
This animal is full of spite;
If you attack him, he will bite.
Well, gentlemen, this war has opened the eyes of some of us, and has
confirmed the fears of others. Not one of us wanted to fight. Our hand
was forced, so that we could not have abstained without national and
personal dishonor.
Now, I do not think it is even yet realized that Germany's methods in
trade have been, and are, as far as possible identical, with her methods
in war. Let me rub this in. As long ago as 1903, at a meeting of the
Society of Chemical Industry, under the Presidency of your
fellow-citizen, Mr. Levinstein, I pointed out that under the German
State there was a trade council, the object of which was to secure and
keep trade for Germany. This council had practical control of duties,
bounties, and freights; its members were representative of the different
commercial interests of the empire; and they acted, as a rule, without
control from the Reichstag. You can read what I said for yourselves, if
you think it worth while, in The Journal of the Society of Chemical
Industry for 1903.
Let me give you a simple case of the operations of that trade council.
_Ex uno disce omnes._ A certain firm had a fairly profitable monopoly in
a chemical product which it had maintained for many years. It was not a
patented article, but one for which the firm had discovered a good
process of manufacture. About six years ago this firm found that its
Liverpool custom was being transferred to German makers. On inquiry, it
transpired that the freight on this particular article from Hamburg to
Liverpool had been lowered. The firm considered its position, and by
introducing economies it found that it could still compete at a profit.
A year later German manufacturers lowered the price substantially, so
that the English firm could not sell without making a dead loss. It
transpired that the lowering of price was due to a heavy export bounty
being paid to the German manufacturers by the German State.