explanation. The downs of Vaux form, as it were, a _T_ piece to a long
central ridge. We were standing on the cross-head, and looking southward
a corresponding transverse ridge limited our vision at 2500 to 3000
yards, and between the two lay two valleys trending east and west from
the central neck, the slopes gentle and unbroken, with a slight
convexity in cross section. If we were ten minutes too late the infantry
would be in the hollows out of the line of sight of our batteries, and
our fate would be a matter of minutes.
We had only three batteries on the spot, and where were the others? I
did not know, and dared not ask, and as etiquette prevented my going in
front of the General, I had not the consolation of studying his face;
all I noticed was that he was smoking very quietly and reflectively.
Northward, a mist lay over the river, and all the valley was still; the
minutes seemed like hours. At length my ear caught the sound, so well
known to me, of the roll of gun-carriages and clatter of harness, and
out of the sea of mist below I suddenly saw the helmets and heads of the
gunners arise, and then I knew that, confident in the reports of the
cavalry, our General was going to try, and to succeed, in the same
manœuvre in which the French last year, without cavalry, had so
conspicuously failed; for these new comers could only be the Corps
Artillery, and with eighteen to twenty batteries in line on this height
in time, I felt certain no infantry could hope to capture it. The enemy,
however, was not far off, for isolated shots were now heard from the
southward, and our cavalry videttes came in view, falling back before
his advance.
Our guns were brought up behind the brow and unlimbered, but kept back
below the sky-line, and every one was ordered under cover, where we
waited for some ten minutes. Then suddenly the order was given to load
and run forward by hand. I crept to the front and there saw extending
half-way down the opposite slope the leading lines of a whole French
Division deployed for action. A more perfect target it would have been
impossible to devise. Next moment eighteen batteries at least were
pouring their fire into this defenceless mass, and the further hillside
became a scene of slaughter unequalled in the annals of warfare except,
possibly, at Eylau.
[Illustration:
OUR CORRESPONDENT AT THE BATTLE OF VAUX CHAMPAGNE.
]
The guns were all laid for the leading line, there was no question of
ranging at all—for the distance was not more than 1200 yards—some of the
French threw themselves down and attempted to reply, but in a few
moments the smoke and dust from our bursting shells enveloped them, and
their bullets began to fly higher. The following lines pressed on to the
leading ones, thus making the target denser, and now the gunners changed
from shrapnel to common shell, with high explosive bursters, and we saw
limbs and trunks of men thrown high in the air above the dust-clouds,
whilst even the screams of the wounded reached us above the din. It was
ghastly beyond the power of description, and I dropped back to look the
other way, and there saw the whole of our Cavalry Division trotting
forward to reap the harvest the guns had sown.
They were at this moment in column of regiments, each regiment wheeled
up by troops, and moving perpendicularly to the prolongation of the
enemy’s line. I lost sight of them for a moment as I cut across the
hill, and when I next saw them they had wheeled into line and were
bearing down on the enemy obliquely across his front, so that six
successive lines were available to ride down all resistance. The first
two lines increased their squadron intervals, and opened their files to
about half a horse’s length, and then, at about 500 yards from the
enemy, the gallop was sounded. The outer sections of the French
endeavoured to wheel up to meet them, but a last salvo from the two
flank batteries with shrapnel seemed to tear them away, and the next
instant the cavalry were on them. For a moment the line was a bit
unsteadied, but its pace did not check. The French rose and fired after
them, and many fell, but the second line, 300 yards in rear of the
first, was on them, and then the third and fourth, and now I understood
why the German cavalry carry lances. The first line kept up its pace to
the end, and then rallied beyond it and came back through them again;
the fifth, not yet engaged, trotted round and charged in from the front,
and the sixth moved off up the hill to watch the flanks. The confusion
now defied description, the French firing like lunatics in every
direction, and the whole mass taking an uphill direction, thus masking
the fire of the French guns, which had been in action within a few
minutes of the commencement of our fire, and had replied pluckily to the
guns on our side specially reserved to deal with them; but now, in the
confusion, our lancers got amongst them and succeeded in destroying most
of the teams. It was 8 A.M. when the first gun fired, it was 8.20 when
the cavalry charged, and since then, perhaps, twenty minutes more had
elapsed—a whole Infantry Division had been destroyed. But our position
was by no means without cause for anxiety, nor could we hold the ground
we had won; we knew French reinforcements were at hand, for we heard
guns open on our cavalry beyond the hill, and these soon began falling
back in disorder.
What would we not have given for a brigade of Bersaglieri or of French
Chasseurs—I thought of one I had seen last autumn that marched nine
kilometres in forty-five minutes, and wished we had it with us now.
Our leading companies were still a couple of miles away; heading more to
the left, I moved along the ridge till I reached a point whence I could
overlook what was going to happen.
About two miles to the south-east I saw a French brigade with six
batteries of artillery, moving forward, formed for attack in their
conventional manner. The guns came into action to the eastward, and
almost at the same moment the Prussian divisional batteries also
unlimbered, but the French found their range first, and so occupied the
attention of the Germans that the infantry this time passed unscathed
down the same slope which, on the other flank, had proved so disastrous
to them. It was now evident, from the form of the ground, that the two
infantries would butt up against each other at about two hundred yards,
and victory would probably fall to the side which was quickest ‘on the
drop,’ as the Americans say. Both sides were rapidly approaching one
another, the Prussians still in line of company columns, the French in a
dense line of skirmishers. Presently the former ‘front formed line,’
their drums began to beat, and the whole advanced in ‘parade march,’
dressed as on the passing line. Suddenly, and simultaneously, the French
line dropped to the ground, the Prussians halted and came to the ready;
for a moment they stood motionless. Then the French, finding, I suppose,
that on the ground, they could not see, sprang to their feet, and that
instant there was a glint of light along the line as the rifles came to
the present, and the next second the scythe of death swept over the
French, and they fell in swathes. But the Prussians began to fall too,
and the French supports were closer at hand, and fed the fighting line
more rapidly, but their fire was not equally in hand. I could hear the
Prussian volleys and mark the course of each distinctly. For five
minutes the struggle raged—the roar of musketry was deafening—but above
it I again caught the beat of the drum, and saw the second Prussian line
advancing. When it was almost close on the first, the shrill whistles
sounded, the fire partially ceased, and, headed by their officers, the
whole sprang forward with a rush. But the French did not give; their
reserves, too, were close at hand in company columns; the fighting line
rallied on these, and all dashed forward together. But no bayonet
encounter followed. Both sides halted at about thirty paces, and again
the magazine fire blazed out, telling on the French clumps much more
rapidly than it did on the Prussian line—for a single bullet pierced ten
or a dozen bodies. Then presently the French masses became ragged
towards the rear—they bagged outwards like sacks, and began to move with
increasing speed down the hill, and at this moment two squadrons of
divisional cavalry, who had slipped out between the guns and the
infantry, swept down on them from flank to flank.
They probably did not do much damage, but they separated the
infantries—and a number of French batteries now appeared on the further
hill, and compelled the Prussians to fall back also.
The artillery duel now began again—but lasted only a short time, for the
French evidently only meant to break off the fight, and as soon as the
wreck of the infantry were in safety, the firing ceased, and the guns
withdrew.
The Germans were in no condition for immediate pursuit. They had to wait
for the remainder of the corps to close up, and to rally the cavalry.
It was now about 11.30—and to the eastward on the high ground
overlooking the Aisne about Vouziers we could see the flashes of a long
line of guns, and in the plain below dark masses of troops.
About four we moved forward, and about six bivouacked near a place
called Dricourt, whence I write this. I learn that our scouts discovered
a whole Corps moving down on our flank this morning from St. Remy, but
about 10 A.M., hearing presumably of the result of the action at Vaux,
they bent off southward, and are evidently now on our front. It appears
the French Corps we fought to-day came on with one division deployed for
action on its left, a brigade in echelon on the right. The corps
artillery between the two and the remaining brigade in reserve. Where
the cavalry was we do not know.
Another French corps was defeated about Vouziers. So we have the wreck
of two Corps, and the whole of one for certain, in our front for
to-morrow, for our outposts are in contact along the whole line. How
many more we may find I cannot tell, but we are two days clear ahead of
their calculated mobilisation, and these two days’ fighting must have
seriously deranged their plans.
The men are rather sober; they have seen death for the first time, and
the slaughter caused by our new shells is most horrible to look at.
Besides, only few of them were engaged in the actual fighting line, and
the remainder do not yet know from experience the intensity of the
passion for blood which seizes them when once they have taken active
part in the slaying.
It has been a wise measure to let the massed bands play to-night, and I
have never experienced anything more moving than the sound of the last
great hymn, sung by all the men, with which the ‘Zapfenstreich’ winds
up.
THE BATTLE OF MACHAULT.
GREAT GERMAN VICTORY.
(_From our Special Correspondent with the Germans._)
DRICOURT, _May 11_.
The gunners were moving long before daylight, and I went with them. Dawn
was just breaking when we reached the summit of the rolling ridge which
marks our front, and we could still see signs of bivouac fires burnt low
on another and almost parallel wave some 2000 to 3000 yards to our
front. The bottom of the hollow is steeper and we cannot see into it,
but they tell me our Infantry are down there.
Our position faces N.N.W. by S.S.E., so again we shall have the sun at
our backs. Some of our guns are entrenched, and I notice the intervals
between them are wider than usual, probably, as before, to ward against
the melinite shells.
Of our strategic position all I know is that we have a Corps on either
flank, and two within supporting distance—what the 2d Army is doing I
don’t know.
* * * * *
VOUZIERS, _May 12_.
I was obliged to break off my dispatch abruptly, owing to the sudden
development of events. I had just written the last line when the first
gun went off about ten minutes before sunrise, and for an hour an
incessant roar of artillery raged. The French shot well, but the sun in
their eyes gave them never a chance.
I had now time and daylight enough to look round. Our troops were all
carefully under cover at least 2000 yards to the rear, mostly in
rendezvous formations, waiting. Of the enemy I could only see his guns,
and when the sun rose high enough, one could distinctly make out the
line of an entrenchment just at the break of the long slope into the
hollow. Even then I might not have noticed it but for the indiscretion
of its occupants, who would keep moving about. It may have been about
six o’clock when I saw, out of the hollows away to the rear, three great
columns rise up, which proved to be six batteries of Artillery each.
They trotted forward, forming line to the front, and then I realised
that I was at length about to see a real Napoleonic battle, the blow to
pierce the centre or fail.
[Illustration:
THE BATTLE OF MACHAULT: THE GERMAN CAVALRY CHARGING THE RALLYING
SQUARES OF THE FRENCH.
]
Nearing the outer edge of the zone, where the splinters of bursting
shells meant for us began to be dangerous, the gallop was sounded, and
the whole eighteen batteries dashed forward in superb form. Our guns
increased their fire to the utmost extremity, shrouding the enemy’s
front in the smoke of their shells, and then ceased for a few moments as
the new arrivals passed through the intervals, resuming it again as soon
as they were clear, and maintaining it at this extreme rate till it was
seen that the others had unlimbered and were ready to take their part in
the action at a range of about 1500 yards. This move brought them,
however, to within 1000 yards of the enemy’s advanced Infantry, and we
saw many drop; but our own advanced posts had been reinforced by small
driblets, too insignificant to attract the enemy’s artillery fire, and
these with the aid of a few guns that could now be spared soon took the
edge off the French Infantry fire.
In fifteen minutes or less, the effect of these eighteen fresh batteries
was plainly apparent; to stay where they were meant for the French
gunners annihilation, and that was not their business, and presently we
saw their teams come up by alternate batteries. In the crowd of men and
horse thus assembled our shells made terrible havoc, and probably not
one-third of the guns were successfully withdrawn. Then the whole power
of our sixty batteries was turned on the Infantry, and we had the
‘defender’s dilemma’ before us. He could not retire his Infantry up the
slope, for that meant beginning the action with a retreat; and he could
not leave them there unsupported, for that would mean annihilation; his
only chance was to move troops down the slope to reinforce them—and
presently we saw them coming. Then a repetition of yesterday’s slaughter
began.
Had we known for certain what was going on out of our sight, we might
have been content to let the foe bleed himself to death in these
fruitless efforts; but we did not, we could only guess that he would be
moving forward his reinforcements of all arms with all haste, and our
game was to crush what was before us as quickly as might be.
Our Infantry were now rapidly coming up, the two divisions side by side,
the brigades of each in the same order, with their regiments each one
behind the other. The leading regiment had two battalions in first line
and one in support, and the foremost battalions, each two companies in
front and two behind, in company column. As the troops approached our
guns they formed line and came forward, their drums beating, with the
strictest possible discipline, for the bullets were flying in showers
overhead, and men were constantly dropping.
The lines went down the slope with about 500 paces between them, and as
the leading one reached the advanced posts, the latter rose, and, with a
cheer, dashed down into the hollow, where they found shelter for a
moment in the dead angle at the foot of the slope. Our gunners now
turned their fire on the Infantry trench for a few moments with high
explosive shells, and then the whole crowd of men in the hollow rose and
rushed it at the point of the bayonet, clearing it in a moment and
pursuing beyond. Then came the turn of the French, and gallantly they
availed themselves of it. Our rapid advance had masked our guns, the
French falling back before it had been taken up by their supports, and
now having only Infantry to deal with, the whole of them turned and came
on again.
It did not come to cold steel, however, for again both sides stopped and
blazed into each other with magazine fire and astounding inaccuracy. The
air above our heads seemed alive with bullets—but our reserves were
coming up under cover, and those of the French moving down hill caught
many of the missiles that flew too high. Soon, perhaps in five minutes,
the whole body, both assailants and defenders, began to move slowly up
the hill, the movement never ceasing till our Infantry reached the top.
Our Horse Artillery, followed by our Divisional Cavalry, galloped
forward in support. What happened for the next few minutes I am unable
to state from observation, for I, too, was moving across the valley, and
looking for a reasonably secure spot from which to see further. I found
one at the junction between two French Corps, where a copse came right
up to the edge of their line—both Corps being hotly engaged in front had
wheeled inwards a little towards the centre, and there was a gap of some
500 yards, and not a soul on the look-out. From here I could take in the
whole situation. To the south-eastward guns flashing and heavy masses of
troops showed the battle extended for miles beyond the left of our
corps, and south-west of us I saw at least thirty French batteries in
line along a low crest that ran about parallel to the ridge we had now
reached, whilst up the slope towards us, but from our left front, a
whole French Division of Infantry was moving towards their comrades on
the hill already hardly pressed, from whom they were yet about one
thousand yards distant.
Their guns were still silent, for their Infantry masked their view, and
it was fortunate for our battalions that they were so, for the fight for
the moment was stationary, and we were only just holding our own.
For some moments it continued so, and the effect to the spectator was
very curious. The air was so filled with the roar of musketry that it
seemed to come from nowhere in particular. There was nothing, in the
absence of all smoke, to connect it with these two long lines of men,
whose rifles spasmodically rose and fell. Along the front of the French,
owing, I suppose, to the angle at which I saw them, a row of little blue
sparks scintillated like the spark discharge from an electric brush, and
over both there lay a blue-grey mist which gave a curious mirage effect
to the whole. The shooting must have been vile on both sides, for
according to practice-ground results, thirty seconds should have
sufficed for mutual extermination; but, though men fell fast, the net
result appeared wonderfully small.
This may have lasted some three minutes, but it was impossible to keep
the run of the time, and then above the roll of the musketry I caught
the beat of the drums, and a reinforcing line, closed and in perfect
order, came over the brow to our assistance. The sight of these closed
lines was enough for both sides; the French gave way, and our fighting
line dashed forward. But only for some 300 yards or so, for again French
reinforcements brought the movement to a check. And now the French
Artillery opened fire on our following lines, and we had a taste of what
it means to come down hill in the sweep of shrapnel.
Our gunners were, however, quickly on the spot. They had been waiting
behind till room was made for them, but till they picked up the range
our losses were terrible, and I think that that following line must have
lost a larger percentage than any other troops this day.
The French fighting line was now sagging to the rear, and their last
reinforcement—a still intact division—was yet some 500 yards away from
them, when I noticed a couple of cavalry officers pass close to where I
stood in the copse, take in the whole scene at a glance, and gallop
away.
I knew then what was coming; it would be the death stroke if given in
time, before the fresh French Infantry had actually joined the fighting
line. These were now not 300 yards away from their comrades when the
first squadron passed me galloping straight down the hill in column of
troops. The first squadron no sooner had its last troop clear of our
Infantry front, than it wheeled into line, and went right at the flank
of the French, who attempted to fall back to meet it, but gave way at
the last moment and ran right back on the reinforcements, and pell-mell
fugitives and pursuers crashed right into the angle of these fresh
troops. The second squadron followed, then a third and fourth. The
confusion became indescribable, and now by the same track an endless
succession of squadrons began to emerge, for the first arrivals had been
only the Divisional regiment, and two whole fresh Cavalry Divisions were
now to follow. On the French side, too, a Cavalry Division appeared
coming out through the line of guns in line of squadron columns, and a
cavalry duel was now imminent.
There was not much time on our side to prepare for it. The first
regiment of the leading Division joined in the charge on the Infantry,
but that blow sufficed, and the whole mass began to break up and fall to
the rear with increasing velocity. The remaining squadrons, as they
arrived, formed line to the front, and awaited the arrival of their
fellows.
As soon as the 1st Division had completed its formation, it trotted
forward to meet the enemy, who were now only some 800 yards distant.
Both sides were suffering from Artillery fire, and there was no room for
manœuvre. The gallop and charge were sounded simultaneously, and the
shock took place all along the front; but the German files were not
closed as well as on former occasions, and the two lines fairly threaded
each other, then wheeled about by troops, and went for one another
again. Then a closed, locked, _mêlée_ arose, and the fight became
stationary. But our 2d Division was now rapidly arriving, and its
leading brigade delivered a shock which set the mass in motion towards
the French guns. Then another brigade was sent in, and this fairly
started it on the run, and in a few seconds the whole confused mob of
over 6000 horsemen was flying in wild confusion right down on and over
the gunners, who again tried to limber up, but were again too late.
The battle was over, the French line pierced, their last closed reserves
broken, and we had a brigade of Cavalry and masses of Infantry, who had
not yet pulled a trigger, in hand.
I looked at my watch, it was just 8 A.M., and I turned and rode for the
nearest wire. Crossing the ground over which we had come, I was able to
notice that our two divisions had both still a regiment in hand, and of
the following Corps only the Corps Artillery had been engaged, so we
were in ample strength for the pursuit.
THE LESSON OF THE FIGHT.