VERDUN AND RHEIMS.
The first and worst part of the Battle of the Aisne may be said to have
ended on 18th September 1914. By this date it was clear to all that the
fighting for weeks to come would be a dull and stubborn affair of
trenches. The Germans boasted that they could hold their positions for
three months if necessary; and the boast was no idle one, for the hills,
woods, and quarries which they occupied were natural fortresses, made
almost impregnable by every art known to the military engineer. In some
places there were eight or nine lines of trenches, the one behind the
other, all of them cleverly constructed and carefully concealed. Wire
entanglements and lines of rabbit fencing, both in the woods and in the
open, protected the trenches from attack, and every line of approach,
whether from the front or from the flanks, was covered by the cross-fire
of rifles, machine guns, and artillery. Behind the woods on the top of
the plateau were heavy howitzers, which hurled shells at long range into
the valley and right across it.
You will remember that, as early as 11th September, General Joffre had
sent the left of the 6th French Army along the Oise in order to prevent
von Kluck from trying an outflanking movement. The Germans believe
greatly in this form of strategy, and it was to be expected that they
would try it again, now that they were held up on the Aisne. On the 18th
of September Sir John French was informed that General Joffre was about
to try an enveloping movement himself. He was about to attack the
enemy's right flank, in the hope of driving him from his trenches. While
this movement was preparing, it was necessary that the Allied lines
along the Aisne should be strongly held, so that the Germans could not
break through.
[Illustration: Fighting in the Argonne.
_Photo, The Sphere._
Some of the fiercest fighting in the war has taken place in this region.
Our illustration shows the French recapturing a trench and meeting a
determined counter-attack of the Germans.]
To our men life in the trenches was a dull and dismal experience after
the stirring days of open fighting in which they had recently been
engaged. There were many attacks and counter-attacks; but for the most
part the opposing armies lay in their trenches during the day, watching
each other while the shells of friend and foe hurtled overhead. Between
the trenches was a No Man's Land, strewn with wounded and the unburied
bodies of the dead. The moment any attempt was made to rescue the
wounded a heavy fire broke out; so the poor fellows lay on the sodden
ground in torment, within a few yards of their own trenches, for days
together. In some places the British and the German lines were so near
that the soldiers could exchange remarks.
As a rule, each side shelled the other by day, and at night the Germans,
after a fierce bombardment, were in the habit of attacking some part of
our lines. They crept forward in the early hours of the morning, hoping
to dig themselves in, so as to be able to reach our trenches at a single
rush. While they were so engaged, searchlights played upon our
positions, in order to dazzle the eyes of our marksmen, and from dusk to
dawn "snipers" were busy picking off all who showed themselves.
Nevertheless, the attacks were constantly beaten off, and at close
quarters our men did great execution with the bayonet. Frequently they
made successful counter-attacks.
During the first fortnight the weather was very wet, and our men were
drenched to the skin. For days at a time they were knee-deep in a
mixture of water and a peculiarly sticky, chalky mud which filled their
eyes, ears, and throats, and could not be kept out of their food.
Despite these discomforts they were as cheery and high-spirited as ever.
They welcomed German attacks as a relief from the long, trying hours of
waiting under a fierce and almost continuous bombardment.
The heavy guns of the enemy fired shells of eight or nine inches in
diameter, which roared through the air like an express train, and
exploded with a terrific report, throwing up columns of greasy, black
smoke, and tearing craters in the ground big enough to hold the bodies
of five horses. The Germans fully expected that these terrifying shells
would drive our men crazy with fear. It was soon discovered, however,
that their bark was worse than their bite, and familiarity with them
bred something like contempt. Our men christened them "Black Marias,"
"coal boxes," and, best of all, "Jack Johnsons." They built bomb-proof
shelters and "dug-outs," in which they took refuge from these monster
missiles.
During those weeks on the Aisne we were at a great disadvantage because
we had so few heavy guns capable of coping with those of the Germans,
and because we were hopelessly outnumbered in machine guns, of which the
enemy seemed to have an endless supply. On 23rd September some heavy
batteries arrived from England, and enabled us to make some sort of
reply; but for every shell fired by our guns the enemy fired twenty. We
also suffered greatly from German spies. Disguised as peasants, they
infested our lines, and as they mingled with the villagers and refugees
it was very difficult for our soldiers to detect them. Frequently women
were discovered acting as secret agents.
On 25th September a disaster befell the 1st Cameron Highlanders. They
had suffered heavily during the retreat and in the action on the 18th,
in which they lost 17 officers and over 500 men. On the 25th they were
sent to relieve the Black Watch, and took over their battalion
headquarters in one of the caves which occur in the chalk of the
plateau. During the morning a German shell blew in the roof of the cave,
and buried the inmates. A few were rescued, but the fire of the enemy
was so fierce and continuous that it was not until evening that a party
of Royal Engineers was able to dig out the remainder. Five officers and
thirty men were found to be dead. No British regiment suffered so
severely in the first two months of the war as the Camerons.
The British casualties during the fighting between 12th September and
8th October were very heavy. Sir John French estimated that in killed,
wounded, and missing we lost 561 officers and 12,980 men. Most of these
losses were incurred during the advance of the First Corps on 14th
September. Great as these losses were, those of the Germans were still
greater. It is said that not less than 50,000 Germans were put out of
action in one way or another during the fighting on the Aisne.
* * * * *
Do you remember the famous interview between Sir Edward Goschen and Herr
von Jagow on the evening of Tuesday, August 4, 1914?[132] In that
interview the Kaiser's Secretary of State revealed the German plan of
campaign. He explained that the Germans were forced to advance into
France by way of Belgium because it was a matter of life and death to
them to strike a decisive blow at the French as soon as possible. "If
they had gone by the more southern route, they could not have hoped, in
view of the fewness of the roads and the strength of the fortresses, to
have got through without formidable opposition, entailing great loss of
time." Let us look for a moment at this strong chain of fortresses,
which the Germans were unwilling to attack because the necessary
operations meant delay.
[Illustration: The Barrier Fortresses of France.]
The most southerly of them is Belfort,[133] which you will find standing
on a plain within fifteen miles of the Swiss border. This plain is
called by soldiers "the Gap of Belfort," and it is the only real break
in the hill frontier that covers France all the way from the
Mediterranean to Flanders. You can see at a glance that if the Gap were
not strongly fortified an army could easily march into France from the
direction of the Rhine. To block this easy road the French have
constructed the very strong ring-fortress of Belfort. It was besieged
during the Franco-German War, and yielded on February 13, 1871; but its
defenders made such a gallant resistance that they were allowed to march
out with what are called the honours of war--that is, with their drums
beating, their flags flying, and their arms in their hands. To
commemorate the siege, a huge lion has been carved on the face of the
precipice below the castle by the sculptor of the statue of Liberty in
New York harbour.[134] One wonders why the Germans did not take over
Belfort after their conquest. Had they done so, they would have provided
themselves with an ever-open door into France.
Rising steeply from the Gap, and running north-north-east for 150 miles
is the highland region known as the Vosges Mountains. Since 1871 the
frontier between France and Germany has run along the crest of these
mountains for about fifty miles. The Vosges consist chiefly of granite
rocks, and everywhere there are signs that they were once covered with
glaciers. We still see the old moraines, consisting of the heaps of rock
and soil that were left behind when the glaciers melted, and the lakes
that were scooped out by the great ice fields that slowly crept over the
mountains in bygone ages. We also see the rounded summits which the
French call _ballons_. The highest of these _ballons_ are over 4,000
feet in elevation, and are to be found about twenty miles north of
Belfort.
The Vosges fall steeply to the Alsatian plain, but descend gradually to
the west. No single railway crosses them between the Gap of Belfort and
the gap which you see to the north of Strassburg, but many carriage
roads traverse the passes. The whole region is very picturesque; the
lakes are surrounded by forests of pine, beech, and maple; there are
many green meadows, which provide pasturage for large herds of cattle;
numerous ruined castles stand on the spurs, and the lower slopes are
studded with vineyards.
From what you have read you will readily understand that the Vosges are
a formidable barrier to invasion from the east. To the west of the main
chain you see another ridge of heights, and beyond them the valley of
the Upper Moselle. On this river, not far from its head-waters, is the
second great barrier fortress of France--Epinal.[135] To the north of
Epinal, and about ten miles west of Nancy, is the third
fortress--Toul.[136] The fort of St. Michel, about twenty miles
north-west of Toul, is the key to the circle of forts that defend the
entrenched camp, and the strongest fort on the frontier. If you were to
visit Toul you would see little or nothing of the batteries, for they
are hidden in brushwood and stunted woods high above the vineyards.
Farther to the north, about thirty-five miles west of Metz, is Verdun,
which has already been mentioned in these pages. As Verdun is the only
barrier fortress which was seriously attacked by the Germans during
1914, let us learn something of its story. Verdun is a great entrenched
camp, contained within a ring which measures thirty miles round. There
are sixteen large forts and about twenty smaller forts on this ring, and
the most distant of them is about nine miles from the centre of the
city. All these defences have been constructed since the Franco-German
War, during which the city was bombarded on three different occasions.
It yielded early in November 1870.
During the Battle of the Marne the Crown Prince made a great effort to
capture Verdun. I have already told you that he battered down Fort
Troyon,[137] but was unable to capture it, though it lay in ruins.
Between the 10th and 12th of September the Crown Prince's army, along
with the other German armies, was forced to retreat. It fell back two
days' march to the north, and immediately the French general,
Sarrail,[138] prepared Verdun to stand a long siege. Seven thousand
civilians--"useless mouths," as the French soldiers call them--were
ordered to withdraw, and the food supply for the garrison was
regulated.
General Sarrail was well aware that if the great howitzers of the
Germans were once permitted to come within range of the forts they would
succumb as speedily as those of Liége, Namur, and Maubeuge. He therefore
pushed out his circle of defences for twenty miles from the city. By
means of earthworks and trenches he made a great fortified zone, which
encircled the forts at such a distance that the German howitzers were
kept out of range. Every height and valley was seamed with defences, and
some of the hillsides became a maze of barbed wire. The heavy guns of
the forts were moved out to the advanced trenches, and rails were laid
down so that as soon as they were "spotted" they could be moved on to
another position. Thus, instead of fixed forts, each, say, mounted with
ten heavy guns, these same ten heavy guns were "dotted here and there in
trenches rapidly established in one place and another, along perhaps
half a mile of wooded vale, and free to operate when they moved over
perhaps double that front."
The result was that the army of the Crown Prince found itself held up in
the form of a semicircle, as shown in this diagram. Against these outer
lines of defence seven German army corps were launched, but with no
success.
[Illustration]
In the third week of September the Bavarian army made a determined
attack on the little town of St. Mihiel,[139] which stands on the Meuse,
midway between Toul and Verdun. North to Verdun and south to Toul,
between the Meuse and the Moselle, is the district known as "the Plain
of the Woëvre."[140] It is crossed by the Heights of the Meuse, which
form a plateau about three hundred feet above the river, and fall
steeply towards the east in deep ravines and wooded knolls. On 20th
September the Bavarians pushed through the Woëvre and drew near to the
Meuse. Two forts blocked their way, one of them being on the site of an
old earthwork known as the Camp of the Romans. The Bavarians got their
heavy guns into position, and by the evening of 22nd September the Camp
of the Romans was in ruins. The garrison, however, made such a gallant
resistance in the outer works that the German general permitted it to
retire with the honours of war. As the French marched out of the fort
the Germans cheered them, presented arms, and dipped their flags.
Shortly afterwards the Bavarians seized St. Mihiel and its
bridgehead,[141] on the western side of the water. A French cavalry
detachment prevented them from advancing any further, and they were
forced to entrench themselves on the edge of the river.
[Illustration]
What was the object of the Germans in capturing St. Mihiel? The Crown
Prince's army was trying to push through the Verdun defences from the
Argonne, and at the same time the Bavarians were trying to advance by
way of St. Mihiel. Should these movements succeed, Verdun would be
completely encircled, and long before this happened, the French army
holding the semicircle about the fortress would be obliged to fall back.
"The wedge at St. Mihiel was a sort of buckle to which the Germans
desired to fit the strap by pushing down from the north-west." Happily
General Sarrail had enough, but only just enough, men to prevent the
strap and the buckle from meeting. For a day or two, however, he was in
grave peril.
As time went on the Germans found their position in the Woëvre more and
more uncomfortable. They had no railway within fifteen miles of St.
Mihiel, and the main road to that place was in the hands of the French.
Nevertheless, they hung on to the little town and the bridgehead for
months, though the wedge of country which they held was constantly
attacked both from the south and from the north. Soon, however, there
was a war of entrenchments in this region, just as there was on the
Aisne.
On 3rd October the Crown Prince made a desperate attempt to break
through the French lines round Verdun. He marched his men from
Varennes,[142] on the eastern edge of the Argonne, along a forest road
to a place called Vienne,[143] on the Aisne, in the hope of capturing
his former headquarters of St. Menehould,[144] from which he might
strike south-eastwards to St. Mihiel. In order to reach Vienne the
Germans brought their guns through a wood lying to the north of the
road. Somewhere in the neighbourhood of this wood the French fell upon
the Germans, and drove them back in rout to Varennes, which they
afterwards captured. Thus they won the road right across the Argonne,
and were able to get into touch with the right of their 4th Army.
* * * * *
Now we must move westwards to Rheims,[145] and see what was happening in
and around that ancient city. Rheims, as you know, is perhaps the most
interesting of all the historical towns of France. It stands, you will
remember, on the right bank of the Vesle, in a plain bounded by
vine-clad hills, and is the chief centre of the trade in champagne. Even
under the Romans it was an important town, and if I were to tell you its
history since Roman times, I should need many pages which I cannot now
spare. But I must dwell on one or two incidents in its long story. You
have already heard of Clovis, who succeeded his father as king of the
Franks in the year 481 A.D. He was a pagan, and during his wars he
burned and ruined many of the churches of France. In 493, like our own
King Ethelbert of Kent, he married a Christian princess. She tried hard
to convert him to Christianity, but for three years without success. At
length he was attacked by the Goths, who lived between the Vosges and
the Rhine, and was very hard pressed. In the thick of the fight he swore
that he would be converted to his wife's God if He would grant him the
victory. His foes were overcome, and on Christmas Day, 496, in the
cathedral at Rheims, Clovis and three thousand of his men were baptized
by the bishop. "Bow thy head meekly," said the good old man to the king;
"adore what thou hast burned, and burn what thou hast adored." This
excellent piece of advice might well be given to that arch-Goth whose
legions destroyed Louvain, and were now about to ruin the most glorious
monument of Christendom.
The cathedral at Rheims is the Westminster Abbey of the French nation.
From the latter half of the 12th century to the year 1825 all the
sovereigns of France, with the exception of Henry IV., Napoleon, and
Louis XVIII., were crowned within its time-honoured walls. Here it was
that Joan the Maid, having inspired the faint-hearted Dauphin to free
his land from the thrall of the English, stood by the high altar in
white armour, and when the crown was placed upon his head, kneeled at
his feet and cried, "Now is the will of God fulfilled." To every
Frenchman the walls which witnessed this scene must be for ever sacred.
[Illustration: The Cathedral at Rheims before bombardment.
_Photo, Sport and General_.]
The present cathedral stands on the site of that in which Clovis was
baptized, and was begun early in the thirteenth century. It took
seventy-five years to complete, and has long been considered the most
perfect example of the architecture of the Middle Ages. The front of the
cathedral is wonderfully beautiful, and is referred to in the following
couplet, which mentions the most striking features of the four noblest
of French cathedrals:--
"Bell-towers of Chartres,[146] nave of Amiens,
Choir of Beauvais,[147] portal of Rheims."
The front is adorned with a multitude of statues and sculptured scenes
from the Scriptures. One of the scenes shows the Day of Judgment;
another illustrates the baptism of Clovis. The most beautiful of the
statues is that of our Lord, and is known as "Le Beau Dieu." Over the
portal, before the bombardment, were three large stained-glass windows,
the central one, a magnificent rose window, nearly forty feet across.
Within the cathedral were many rich and priceless treasures. For
centuries lovers of art and students of history from all the corners of
the world have made pilgrimage to Rheims to rejoice in the beauty of
this exquisite temple.
* * * * *
I have already told you that during the German retreat von Buelow had
withdrawn from Rheims, and had fallen back to the ridge beyond the
Suippe. From this ridge (AAA) General Foch had been repulsed, and the
Germans had pushed forward in the hope of recapturing the city. They
seized the heights marked C to the north of the city, and a part of
those marked D to the east of it, and occupied the line marked BBB. The
heights marked C are but 9,000 yards from the city, and from these
points of vantage the Germans, on 18th September, began a terrific
bombardment. Many civilians were killed, and large sections of the city
were destroyed by flames. It was during this bombardment that the
Germans for ever disgraced themselves by shelling the cathedral. Their
excuse was that the French had set up signal stations on the roof and
tower, and were firing guns close to the building. The French had done
nothing of the kind. When the shelling began the Red Cross flag flew
over the cathedral, and within it were many wounded, chiefly Germans.
There can be no excuse for von Buelow; the cathedral was not in the zone
of fire; he deliberately trained his guns upon it--probably out of sheer
spite. Neutral nations were shocked when they heard of this senseless
and barbarous outrage; but a German officer, writing in a German
newspaper, explained the German state of mind.
"It is of no consequence if all the monuments ever created, all
the pictures ever painted, and all the buildings ever erected by
the great architects of the world were destroyed, if by their
destruction we promote Germany's victory over her enemies. . . .
The commonest, ugliest stone placed to mark the burial-place of
a German grenadier is a more glorious and perfect monument than
all the cathedrals of Europe put together. . . . Let neutral
peoples and our enemies cease their empty chatter, which is no
better than the twittering of birds. Let them cease their talk
about the cathedral at Rheims, and about all the churches and
castles of France which have shared its fate. These things do
not interest us."
[Illustration]
How the destruction of a noble work of art could promote Germany's
victory over her enemies is difficult to understand. It is worthy of
note that a hotel close to the cathedral remained untouched: it was kept
by a German.
For some months the north-east tower of the cathedral had been under
repair, and when the bombardment began it was surrounded by scaffolding.
On 19th September a shell set fire to the outer roof; the fire quickly
spread to the scaffolding, and then to the wooden beams of the portal.
An American correspondent tells us that, when the flames gained on the
building, the Archbishop of Rheims and a party of volunteers rushed
inside and carried out the wounded Germans on stretchers. The rescuing
parties were not a minute too soon. Already from the roofs molten lead
was falling. The blazing doors had fired the straw on which the wounded
lay, and the interior was like a prairie fire. Splashed by the molten
lead, and threatened by falling timbers, the priests, at the risk of
their lives and limbs, carried out the wounded, numbering sixty in all.
But after bearing them to safety their charges were confronted with a
new danger. Inflamed by the sight of their own dead, four hundred
citizens having been killed by the bombardment, and by the loss of their
cathedral, the people of Rheims who were gathered about the burning
building called for the lives of the German prisoners. "They are
barbarians," they cried. "Kill them!" The archbishop and one of his
clergy placed themselves in front of the wounded.
"Before you kill them," they cried, "you must first kill us!"
Surely this noble deed will live in history. There can scarcely be a
finer picture of heroism than that of the venerable archbishop, with his
cathedral blazing behind him, facing a mob of his own people in defence
of their enemies.
The same writer gives us some idea of the havoc wrought by the German
shells: "The windows, that were the glory of the cathedral, were
wrecked. Statues of saints and crusaders and cherubim lay in mangled
fragments. The great bells, that for hundreds of years have sounded the
Angelus[148] for Rheims, were torn from their oak girders and melted
into black masses of silver and copper, without shape and without sound.
Never have I looked upon a picture of such wanton and wicked
destruction."
[Illustration: Portal of Rheims Cathedral after Bombardment.
_Photo, Central News._]
In the square in front of the cathedral stands a fine statue of the Maid
on horseback. Strange to say, though the square was ploughed up with
shells, the figure of the Maid was uninjured; only the horse's legs were
chipped and scarred. A French soldier had placed a tricolour in the
outstretched hand of the figure. All through those days of terror and
destruction the French flag was upheld by the arm of France's ancient
deliverer.
On the morning of 28th September the German attack on Rheims was more
violent than it had ever been before. From all parts of the Allied line
came the same story of desperate attempts to break through, of
hand-to-hand fighting, and terrible losses. That same evening the
French, pushing forward, drove the Germans from their position. The
whole French front moved forward, and, for the time being, Rheims was
safe from capture, though big guns still rained shells upon it.
* * * * *
On September 29, 1914, the first batch of Indian troops arrived at
Marseilles. As the transports hove to in sight of the gleaming limestone
cliffs that flank the port a message from the King was read to them. "I
know," wrote his Majesty, "with what readiness my brave and loyal Indian
soldiers are prepared to fulfil their sacred trust on the field of
battle, shoulder to shoulder with their comrades from all parts of the
Empire. Rest assured that you will always be in my thoughts and
prayers."
As the vessels approached the quays they were greeted with loud cheers
from crowds of townsfolk, most of whom had never seen an Indian soldier
before. They marvelled at the dark faces, the turbans, the soldierly
bearing, and the fine equipment of our Indian brothers. Later in the day
the troops were marched through the city. As our dusky warriors, with
their bright eyes and gleaming teeth, swung along the streets, the
people shook them by the hand and cheered them again and again. Young
girls showered flowers upon them and pinned roses to their tunics and
turbans. Perhaps it was the little, sturdy, smiling Gurkhas who aroused
the greatest enthusiasm. As they advanced behind their pipers, men,
women, and children clambered on to the tables and chairs of the cafés
to catch a glimpse of them, and the air rang with shouts of "_Vivent les
Anglais!_"[149] "_Vivent les Hindous!_"
The men were afterwards marched off to a rest camp, where they remained
for a few weeks, preparing for the fiery ordeal that awaited them.
[Illustration: Sikhs marching through Marseilles.
_Photo, London News Agency._]
[Footnote 132: See Vol. 1., p. 170.]
[Footnote 133: _Bay-for´._]
[Footnote 134: _Bartholdi_, French sculptor (1834-1904). The statue of
Liberty referred to is 200 feet high, and was presented in 1886 to the
United States by the French Government to mark the hundredth year of
American independence. It stands on Bedloe's Island, at the mouth of New
York harbour.]
[Footnote 135: _Ā-pee-nal´._]
[Footnote 136: _Tool._]
[Footnote 137: See p. 215.]
[Footnote 138: _Sar-eye´._]
[Footnote 139: _San Mee-yel´._]
[Footnote 140: _Vo-āvre._]
[Footnote 141: In French, _tête-de-pont_, a fortified position covering
that end of a bridge nearest to the enemy.]
[Footnote 142: _Vā-renn´._]
[Footnote 143: _Ve-en´._]
[Footnote 144: _San Men-oo´._]
[Footnote 145: The French spelling is _Reims_.]
[Footnote 146: _Shar-tr´_, town, fifty miles south-west of Paris, on the
left bank of the Eure.]
[Footnote 147: _Bō-vay´_, fifty-five miles by rail north-north-west of
Paris, on the route from Paris to Calais.]
[Footnote 148: Bell rung thrice daily in Catholic countries, at the
sound of which the faithful pray.]
[Footnote 149: _Vee-ve lays Ang-lay_ ("Long live the English").]