THE RACE TO THE SEA.
There was now a deadlock on the Aisne. The rival armies faced each other
in trenches that had become almost as strong as fortresses, and both
sides were powerless to advance. Every day there were attacks and
counter-attacks, but they were very costly in life, and the ground
gained was measured in yards. General Joffre had foreseen this as far
back as the 18th of September, when he had informed Sir John French of
his plan to bolt the Germans from their burrows.
Now he proposed to send two new armies, numbering in all some 300,000
men, to extend the line of the 6th Army, and fall fiercely on von
Kluck's right flank.
From the 11th of September onwards there was continual fighting on the
right bank of the Oise. While this was going on, Joffre was slipping new
forces to the north by rail. At first he took every man that could be
spared from the fighting line along the Aisne. These troops, however,
were not numerous enough to cope with the Germans, so two new armies
were formed and pushed northward. One of them was commanded by General
Castelnau,[150] who, you will remember, had so grievously disappointed
the Kaiser by beating the Bavarians on the heights near Nancy.[151] His
army was to lie to the north of the 6th French Army, with its centre
crossing the river Somme. At the same time another new army was being
formed at Amiens. It was under the command of General Maud'huy,[152] who
was a brigadier in the army of Lorraine when war broke out. Joffre had
seen in him a soldier of the highest promise, and in three weeks had
promoted him through all the grades to be the commander of an army. Not
even in Napoleon's time had any soldier been advanced so rapidly.
Maud'huy's army was to march eastwards on St. Quentin and strike at the
rear of the enemy.
[Illustration: A Charge of French Light Cavalry at Lassigny.
(_From the picture by F. Matania_. _By permission of The Sphere._)]
You may be sure that the Germans were not asleep while Joffre was making
his preparations. They saw at once what his object was, and they did not
lose an hour in making ready to parry his blow. They had plenty of men
to spare, for their trenches on the Heights of the Aisne were so strong
that they could be held by a very thin line of troops. The General Staff
at once began shuffling its armies to and fro, while new forces were
hurried up from Germany. The interest of the struggle had now passed
from the front on the Aisne to the right flank of the enemy.
By the 20th of September the 6th French Army, under General Maunoury,
was lying south of the village of Lassigny, a day's march to the north
of the confluence of the Oise and the Aisne. Von Kluck had already
extended his right to meet the French attack. Amidst the wooded hills
which lie between the village and the Oise there was very heavy
fighting, which lasted several days. The Germans had occupied Lassigny,
and were drinking themselves drunk with the red wine and cider which
they found in the village, when the French burst on them with the
bayonet and tumbled them pell-mell out of the place. Next morning the
tables were turned. German guns shelled the village, and German cavalry
swept the French out of its ruins. The rival forces dug themselves in,
and soon the conditions on the Aisne were repeated.
Meanwhile de Castelnau had got into position to the north of Lassigny,
and fierce fighting was raging about Roye, which was lost and won, taken
and retaken. If either side could break through at Roye or Lassigny, it
would be able to turn against one or other of the armies to its right or
left and roll it up. Neither side, however, could gain and keep a yard
of ground at this "death angle." Again the line was extended; by the
30th of September Maud'huy's army was advancing eastwards to the north
of the Somme, only to find itself opposed by von Buelow's command. Every
new French force brought up to extend the line was met and checked by a
corresponding German force. Everywhere the enemy showed wonderful
energy. While they were holding Maud'huy's army their troops were being
hurried northwards behind their lines, and they were nowhere caught
napping. Maud'huy dug himself in on the Albert plateau, and von Buelow
could not drive him back. Here, too, there was deadlock.
[Illustration: Sketch Map to illustrate the Extension of the Allied
Left.]
Once more the French line was extended farther north, and as it extended
so did the corresponding German front. Each side was attempting to
outflank the other, and it was clear that the double movements could
only be stopped by the sea. So the rival armies went clawing northwards.
Between the Oise and Arras the French were holding their own with
difficulty; in the Arras position they were fairly strong, but round
Lille, which was held by French Territorials, they had but a mere ribbon
of troops.
In the closing days of September the French learnt that the Germans had
begun a new and very dangerous move. Masses of German cavalry were
sweeping across the Belgian flats into France. Uhlans were within sight
of the sea, and were threatening Maud'huy's left flank round Lille and
among the colliery villages to the north of Arras. There were rumours of
many troop trains moving through Liége and Namur and Brussels, and it
seemed that the cavalry on Maud'huy's flank were but the vanguard of a
huge army which was about to be flung against the French rear.
Nor was this all. The Germans had begun to besiege Antwerp. No one could
say how long it could hold out. After the experience of Liége and Namur
its chances were small, but it was hoped that the Belgian army might
make an obstinate stand outside the circle of forts. No risks, however,
could be taken. New armies must be moved without delay to the extreme
left of the Allied line, in order to check the new German attack, and
also to hold out a helping hand to the defenders of Antwerp.
To this post of honour Sir John French now laid claim. At Mons his army
had been on the left of the Allied line; now it was in the centre. This
meant that it was far from its base, and could only obtain its supplies
by cross-country routes which ran through the lines of communications of
the French armies. Sir John now asked to be transferred to his old
position on the extreme left wing, where he would be near the coast, and
could be readily supplied with food, ammunition, and reinforcements. His
fine, seasoned soldiers were wasted on the Aisne, where the fight had
dwindled to a series of artillery duels, with here and there a sharp
struggle in the advanced trenches. If, as seemed likely, the Germans
were about to make a dash for the coast, in order to capture Calais and
the Channel ports, and thus threaten England, the British army desired
nothing better than the chance to stop it. In these circumstances,
General Joffre agreed that the British army should be carried northward
by train, and should take up a position on the left flank of Maud'huy's
army, which early in October 1914 had reached the south bank of a canal
running westwards from Lille through La Bassée to Bethune.[153]
I need not tell you that the transfer of an army from the Aisne to the
Franco-Belgian border was a very difficult and delicate operation
indeed. Our trenches on the Aisne were in many places only about 100
yards from those of the enemy yet, platoon by platoon, battalion by
battalion, and brigade by brigade, our men were shifted out of their
trenches at night, and French soldiers were slipped in to take their
places. The transfer began on 3rd October, when the 2nd Cavalry
Division, under General Gough, marched to Compiègne, where it took train
through Amiens to St. Omer, which lies to the west of Bethune. For
sixteen days the business of withdrawing our men from the Aisne and
sending them northwards by train continued, and all the time the Germans
were quite unaware of what was going on. They had one of the greatest
surprises of their lives when they discovered that the British army was
opposing them on the Franco-Belgian border. German prisoners could not
believe their eyes when they saw that their captors wore the familiar
khaki. They firmly believed that the British army was in the trenches of
the Aisne valley.
An officer writing home thus describes the transfer of the British
army:--
"We left the river Aisne, and now we are a long way north of
that position. It was a wonderful move. French troops appeared
out of the darkness and took our places. They had marched many
miles, but were quite cheerful and calm, their only desire being
to get into our 'dug-outs' and go to sleep. Then we marched down
the hill into a comparative peace, and, joy of joys! were
allowed to smoke and talk. It was a bitterly cold night, and we
were dreadfully sleepy. We nodded as we trudged along. And so we
entrained, and slept, closely packed indeed, but on beautiful
soft cushions instead of the mud of a trench; the men were
comfortable, being wedged by forties in covered trucks with
clean straw for beds. We awoke in Paris. We passed slowly
through, and slept again until we stopped for water at Amiens.
"Our journey continued as fast as a train holding 1,000 men and
their transport wagons can travel, and we were at Calais by
evening. But a murrain on the foggy weather, which prevented us
from catching a glimpse of the heights of Dover town! However,
at another stopping-place there was a charming English girl
giving the soldiers cigarettes, and the sight of her and a word
or two made us doubly brave."
The Second Corps was timed to arrive on the canal to the west of Bethune
on 11th October. It was to connect up with Maud'huy's army holding the
line south of the canal, and Gough's cavalry was to hold back the
Germans until it was in position. Next day the Third Corps was to arrive
and detrain at St. Omer. Then the cavalry was to clear its flank, and
hold back the Germans again until the Third Corps was in position.
Finally, it had to do similar work until the First Corps could arrive
and take its place in the long northward line. Such was the plan; and,
thanks to the splendid manner in which the French and British staffs
worked together, it succeeded. By 19th October 100,000 British soldiers
had been silently and secretly withdrawn from their trenches on the
Aisne, almost within eyeshot of the Germans, and had been carried 150
miles by rail to their new positions. During the journey some of our men
passed near enough to the Channel to see British warships far out on the
gray waters.
We won the race to the sea, but only by a short neck. How the Germans
poured across Belgium, and how the remnants of the Belgian army, aided
by a small British force, kept them at bay until the situation was
saved, will be told in our next volume. The transfer of the British army
from the Aisne to the Franco-Belgian border marks the close of the third
great chapter of the war. Thenceforward, for many months, war was to be
waged along a line of trenches extending from the wind-whipped dunes of
the narrow seas to within sight of Alpine snows, a distance of more than
450 miles.
[Illustration: A Meeting of the Generals.
(_Drawn by Paul Thiriat_. _By permission of The Sphere._)
The French artist who painted this picture writes:--"At night, somewhere
near the front, inside an abandoned farmhouse in the midst of fields,
two men are together--those on whom we set all our hopes, who give all
their knowledge, their lives, for the freedom of the world. You never
know where they are, and, if you do see them, still you must not know
where you met them. They are nowhere and yet everywhere. Very often only
a single sentry betrays their temporary shelter. The motor cars wait,
panting, to carry them as quick as possible to wherever their presence
is needed."]
[Footnote 150: _Kas-tel-no´._]
[Footnote 151: See p. 218.]
[Footnote 152: _Maud-wee´._]
[Footnote 153: _Bay-toon´._]