Part 15

Before daylight, our reckoning brought us so close up to Toulon, that, as we had lost sight of the enemy three hours before, signal was made to slow down, and at daylight we could just make out the French closing into the land and disappearing.

Such was the Battle of Sardinia, as I made it out. The French risked it in the hope of falling on the weak Anglo-Italian squadron, and so saving Algeria. It was almost as great a risk for us, being so numerically inferior; but, accepting the position all along, our Admirals so managed that we suffered much less loss in the end. But the feature which struck us all as most remarkable was the fact that while we had two ships practically disabled, and the French had suffered but the same loss, yet we were victorious by reason of the terrible carnage which our lighter guns had caused in the enemy’s ships.

_P.S._—I have just learnt that the real cause of the French retreat was news that reached them by a cruiser of the approach of the squadron from Algiers. This Sir George Tryon expected all along, but we knew nothing of it. We met the ships next day. News from England has just come by the _Blonde_. The German Fleet has joined that of Sir Michael Seymour in the Gulf of Finland, and he has sent home five of his ships. The Duke of Edinburgh has detached two of his, and the whole seven are making the best of their way, with several cruisers, to reinforce us. All idea of further attack on Algiers is given up, and Admiral Markham will sail with ten battle-ships and six cruisers to the Levant, to convoy the troops into the Black Sea, and then to mask the Russian Fleet in Sebastopol. So the Black Sea expedition is to go on. Yet the general opinion amongst us is that our Government are running considerable risks, and that we are relying on the principle of ‘Nothing venture, nothing have.’

THE FRANCO-GERMAN CAMPAIGN—CAVALRY ENGAGEMENT NEAR LIGNY.

DEFEAT OF THE FRENCH.

(_From our Special Correspondent with the Germans._)

NAMUR, _May 5_.

A report reaches me to-night that the Germans from Metz light siege train since early on the morning of the 3d. The guns in the annex batteries of the French defences not being mounted yet, each fort was surrounded by a circle of fire, to which it could only return a divergent reply. The forts are now shapeless heaps of ruin, the cavaliers cut down, and the guns either dismounted or buried under the earth thrown out by the bursting shells. No attempt at assault has yet been made.

An attempt at a raid by the German cavalry from the direction of Luxembourg—Dun is also reported, without great results. Two squadrons have managed to slip round the Verdun defences, and re-entered German territory near Mars-la-Tour, last night, destroying railways and wires as they went.

NAMUR, _May 9_.

There has been a smart cavalry action to-day in the vicinity of Ligny and St. Amand, names so well known in the Waterloo campaign, in which the French have very decidedly had the worst of it.

Before commencing my account, I will add that the censorship here is very strict indeed, and that no mention whatever is permitted of numbers of corps or regiments, or of the names of their commanders; as these data are invaluable to an enemy in enabling him to check the truth of information received, and it is always possible that the wires between here and Brussels may be tapped.

Yesterday afternoon I found a place in a train going to Gembloux, where our Cavalry Division had arrived during the morning. Arrived there, I met an old friend in the Hussars, who told me that he and three other officers had been selected for a reconnaissance ride next morning, and that a place in their carriage was at my service. The idea of driving out to a real cavalry action struck me as singular, so I asked for information, and was told by my friend that he and his comrades, who were all noted steeplechase riders, had had several horses in training for a meeting, to which the war had put a stop, and had been told by their colonel to train the horses a little ‘fat’ and bring them along to the front—he would be glad of their services, and find them an opportunity for distinction greater than any to be won between the flags. They were to have their horses led out for them, and, as soon as the expected collision occurred, to mount, slip through the enemy’s scouts in the confusion of the scrimmage, and ride as far as possible to the south and westward to see what was going on behind the cavalry screen.

Needless to say, I accepted the offer, and 2 A.M. found me with my friends driving out along the road to Ligny, where lay the outposts.

Latest reports indicated the enemy’s cavalry, at least a division strong, between Fleurus and Charleroi. The advance-guard of our Division, the Hussar brigade, moved off about an hour before sunrise, following the line of the great road. We stayed behind to await the arrival of the main body, and presently moved over in the direction of St. Amand. Soon the main body was seen approaching, and about the same time we could see the Hussars falling back across the railway, and a report arrived that the French were coming on in force.

The Divisional Commander rode forward to reconnoitre the ground in front, and left orders to the main body to form for attack under cover in a hollow in rear; the same, by chance, in which Blücher had stationed the reserves of his right before the battle of Ligny in 1815.

It was a perfectly faultless morning, and the sun was just beginning to rise when we saw three batteries of French Horse Artillery cross the railway and come out into the plain. Our own batteries were in the act of unlimbering, at double intervals, to allow for the melinite shells; and as they crossed the sky-line the French, too, saw them, and came into ‘action front.’ The two first shots on each side fell almost simultaneously, and the duel began. The hollow in our front and the blinding rays of the sun full in the eyes of the enemy gave us an immense advantage, and in five minutes our side had ‘ranged,’ and one French gun was sent flying. Meanwhile our Hussars had been falling back, and were wheeling up into position as second and third lines to the two heavy brigades.

The French Cavalry were now crossing the railway in line of squadron columns and immediately afterwards formed ‘line,’ and the signal to advance was given by our Commander. As our horse crossed the plateau on which the guns were in action, ‘Troops half left’ was sounded, and the French hearing the signal, no doubt, and seeing also that we were not quite in line, must have guessed our intention to attack their left, and endeavoured to meet it by ‘Shouldering.’

Reaching the hollow our cavalry again wheeled into line, crossed the little brooklet without disorder, and then, by silent signal, broke into column of troops to the right, and galloped up the hollow in a long sweeping stride—their distances perfectly preserved. This movement promised to bring them out right on the flank and rear of the French left, but the next moment we saw the French Reserve, which had hitherto been hidden by trees along the lane from Perwin to Bry—moving in a direction that would bring them right on the flank of our first line. The situation was most critical—we all held our breath—but the next moment we heard the regimental call of the leading regiment, followed by the long ‘G’s’ of ‘line to the front,’ and we knew that the danger was seen and met.

Simultaneously also the tail of the column still in sight wheeled into line, and came dashing forward to the attack.

The French were already in a poor condition to meet it. The attempt to ‘shoulder’ the long line had loosened their order, and from the moment they came in sight our gunners had turned their full power upon them with results almost indescribable. Out of the dust and smoke of the bursting shells we saw limbs and bodies thrown high in the air, and the right and second line of the enemy was already in hopeless confusion before the blow fell on their left. This wing had escaped our shells, for to fire on it would have imperilled our own men. They saw the danger coming, and two squadrons endeavoured to wheel up to meet it, but they were too late, the next moment our trumpets rang out the ‘charge,’ and with a roar of cheering our men dashed forward; we heard the crash of the collision, for a moment saw horses rear up and fall backward, and then the dust rose and shut out all further vision. But the French did not bolt, the wreck of their right and second line wheeled up, rallied on their officers as best they could, and dashed into the _mêlée_, where they too were lost to sight. From time to time we saw groups of our white-coated Cuirassiers and the dark blue Uhlans emerge from the dust-cloud, then wheel and go back again, and for some moments the fight here became stationary, for the French on this point outnumbered us two to one. Then suddenly from out of the hollow we again heard the charge sounding, and for a second or two caught sight of the left of our third line, as with perfectly closed ranks they dashed into the _mêlée_. This blow settled the matter. The mass again came into motion; first a few files, followed by more, began to drop off to the rear, and presently the whole cloud, gathering pace as it went, swept down right on to the flank of their horse batteries, who, seeing the danger coming, had endeavoured to limber up in the full fire of our artillery. But they were too late, the crowd swept over them, and when it had passed we saw eight guns still on the ground, with some Hussars and Uhlans busy around them.

What happened on our right I could only partially see, the trees interfering with my line of vision. I am therefore dependent on the testimony of others.

The regiment that had ‘front formed’ was one of the heaviest in the army, and prided itself on riding even closer knee to knee in the charge than the regulation sanctions; and well was it for them that they did so, for the odds against them were very heavy. The shock was perfectly direct; the French wavered a little at the last moment, and the Cuirassiers burst through them, maintaining their formation almost intact; then, wheeling round, attacked the overlapping French squadrons, and drove them back towards the hollow, where the second line of Hussars, warned of what was happening in front, had taken ground outwards, and then charged the _mêlée_ from the northwards, setting it in motion again towards the south.

By degrees the forces began to disentangle themselves, and the Germans rallied again in closed squadrons, while the French got away as best they could towards the woods of Lambusart.

The losses due to the lance appear to have been trifling, for at the moment of actual contact the men could not reach each other; the horses fairly breasted one another, and the lighter ones went over backwards, many being found with fractured spines. In the _mêlée_, too, the lance proved useless,—the crowd was too dense. Men wrestled and fought with their fists. The French loss caused by our artillery was perfectly appalling; but, thanks to the dexterity of our leader, who managed always to keep the enemy between him and the guns—thus effectually masking their fire—we have escaped their shells almost entirely. I may also call attention to the advantages we secured by having the sun at our backs, which gave the French gunners—excellently trained as they are, and gallant beyond a doubt—hardly the chance of inflicting injury on us.

No one can accuse the French this morning of showing anything but perfect gallantry, but we have again an instance that more than gallantry is required for cavalry efficiency. The reason why the Germans won is because they manœuvred with perfect precision, and were so thoroughly in hand that even the most unexpected occurrences could be met and dealt with. Here the French were outmatched, and their leader, too, seemed hardly equal to his task. He formed line too soon; had he stayed in squadron columns a little longer he could have changed front without the unsteadiness entailed by the endeavour to do so after the line had been formed.

Whilst writing this one of the General Staff has kindly come round to tell me that there is room in a special train starting to-night in two hours—destination not to be breathed—and I fancy within a very short time you will hear of something startling; more I dare not say at present.

My friends of this morning are back again safe and sound, having ridden some sixty miles. They tell me the French had thirty-six squadrons against our twenty-four this morning. But about the rest of their information I must be silent.

VOUZIERS, MIDNIGHT, _May 12_.

The curtain has at last fallen on the first act of this great national tragedy—the first strategical problem has been solved, and I am again free to write.

Briefly what has happened is this:

All the available troops of the Metz (or 3d Army) have been drawn off under cover of the operations described in my telegram of the 5th inst., to the neighbourhood of Luxembourg—Thionville.

The five Corps of the 1st Army have been concentrated from Namur, and districts northward, behind the frontier north of Mezieres, Sedan, and the 2d Army (four Corps) has formed between them. Three other Corps are following in rear.

These movements were completed on the 9th inst., and at daybreak on the 10th the frontier was crossed by the leading troops of all three armies.

Two French corps, distributed for the defence of the Meuse, were caught by the 3d Army whilst endeavouring to concentrate, and compelled to fall back in considerable confusion.

The Second Army met with no opposition, and their cavalry reached Buzancy.

The cavalry divisions in advance of the First Army had a sharp and victorious encounter with French horse on the plateau between the Meuse and Aisne, who retreated afterwards towards Laon, and our leading corps made good the passage of the Meuse, between Mezieres and Sedan, and upstream towards Mouzon, their advance guards bivouacking on the line, Rancourt—Omont—Poix. It was a day of hard marching, but the weather was cool, and the men in good training seemed to make light of their twenty to twenty-five miles.

I was not present at any of the collisions this day, being unable to overtake the cavalry screen; from what I can learn, however, the success of the latter was due to much the same reasons as in the fight at St. Amand—Bry, viz., mobility in the troops, _coup d’œil_ in the leaders, and closed files in the charge.

The fight of the next day I saw capitally, and send it herewith as I wrote it the same evening.

ENGAGEMENT AT VAUX CHAMPAGNE.

DRICOURT, _May 11_.

I overtook the main body of our Cavalry Division (_i.e._ the one attached to the immediately following Corps, with which I have for the present joined fortunes) near Tourteron—a village lying some seven miles north of the Aisne—late last night, and learnt that there was certain to be a sharp tussle next morning; for patrols reported large masses of French troops in the valley of the Aisne about Vouziers, and from a neighbouring hill we could see the reflection of their bivouac fires, while southward we heard the noise of trains passing constantly and at short intervals on the line from Rheims to Monthois.

At 3 A.M. the headquarter orders reached us, and at 4.30 we were on the move—pretty smart work, considering the number of hands through which orders had to pass. I followed the General’s staff, who had kindly given me permission to do so.

Our mission was evident, viz., to seize the high land beyond the Aisne, to cover the passage of the stream by our infantry.

On the way reports came in that a large body of French troops, at least a Corps, was moving to meet us by the same road, and it became evident that it was a race between us who could reach the long stretching downs of Vaux Champagne in our front first, and in sufficient strength to hold them. That our cavalry could be there in time was clear; indeed, our scouts were already far beyond it, but how to hold it was another matter, about which I should have liked information, but did not dare to ask for it.

We cantered forward, and drew up on the downs about 7.15. I found the situation very much like one I saw at the French manœuvres last year near Lesmont, when infantry and artillery, both without scouts in advance, raced for a similar hill, and met at the top with results disastrous for the artillery.

The ground was exactly similar, and deserves a word or two of 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.

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.