Part 23

The Prussians stagger beneath the shock. Lines shake and waver; here give back, and there lie still and motionless; columns, though far away, break and dissolve under the shrapnel, and then deploy in haste and confusion; and, above all, the bright sun shines down without a wreath of smoke to sully his radiance, or to hide his target from the rifleman. Vainly the supporting lines of the Prussians are hurried to the front. Impotently the cavalry ride forward. Their guns are already silenced. The squadrons are checked by an inextricable tangle of falling men and horses. The long line of infantry is no longer intact. Men are hastening to the rear, not singly, but in groups. Officers stand out in front for a moment, and then are seen no more save in shapeless huddled forms on the dewy grass. The volleys of the French became more regular and machine-like every moment. A mounted group reaches the hill. It is the General, his Staff beside him, his _fanion_ at his side. They are too far off to hear, but I can see De Galliffet pointing to the front, and the infantry are already moving forward, swooping down upon their prey. He must be an enemy of more than mortal courage who, decimated and outnumbered, can withstand the swift yet steady onset of these trim, regular lines of blue and red. And look, behind—there, in the interval! A long array of tossing heads and nodding plumes. The Cuirassiers of France! Let the infantry shake them; brave horsemen, your time is coming! ‘_N’oubliez pas Reichshoffen!_’ yells a wounded corporal by my side, and the mighty mass breaks into a trot, and across the plain they dash, the horse artillery racing in their wake, whilst _viva_ after _viva_ speeds their onset. The German cavalry, what is left of it, comes gallantly forward to meet their antagonists, and, if possible, to save their infantry. But it is too late. In a few moments the plain is covered with a broken crowd of soldiers. Groups rallying round their officers are swept away by flying horsemen or serried squadrons; thousands are now struggling for the ridge; in the centre the Cuirassiers are bearing all before them in the frenzy of the charge, and on the flanks the infantry, with rattling volleys, sweep away the _débris_ of the battle as leaves before the gale.

Before the French reached the ridge beyond, long after the cavalry had retired to re-form, it appears that they met fresh masses of infantry hurrying forward to the assistance of their comrades; but the impetus of victory was too great to be withstood. The fresh troops became involved in the disaster of their advanced guard, and long ere mid-day De Galliffet was in secure possession of the second ridge, across which at daybreak I had seen the Germans advance.

About the noontide hour both armies seemed, as it were by consent, to allow a breathing space. It was as if some invisible Marshal of the Lists had thrown down his baton. So here, behind the ridge, whilst the blazing sun passed over the meridian, lay the columns of the French. Over against them, in the rolling and open valley, but out of range, were the faint, blue, wavy lines which marked their enemy’s position.

It was not till after two o’clock that I saw General de Galliffet—who had been standing alone, looking intently towards the enemy and impatiently beating his foot upon the ground—make a gesture of relief, and turning sharp to his orderly dragoon bid him bring up his horse. At the same moment the German infantry began to move. The artillery had been for some time in action. A perfect hail of shells tore up the level surface of the ridge, and our batteries were one by one retiring. Our present line of infantry is several hundred yards behind the hill, down in the valley, cooking their soup undisturbed by the shrapnel, and only a few are called up now to assist the guns against hostile skirmishers. On come the Prussians, but it is soon evident that the main attack is not against our centre. Away to the left there, where General Jamont, the trusted Commander of the 5th Corps d’Armée, holds watch and ward, the sky is red with dust, and the thunder of the guns and the rattle of musketry is threefold heavier than with us. I can see our troops moving in the valley below, from centre to left, linesmen and guns, hurrying to the point of contact. I am on the point of riding in the same direction, when one of M. de Galliffet’s aides-de-camp suggests that I have already a place in the stalls. ‘Down below,’ he says, pointing to the valley, ‘will be played the last agony of Prussia.’

The suspense is terrible. The volleys rise and fall, the roar of the cannon swells and dies way. The minutes drag by on leaden wings. The troops in our front are not advancing, even the Artillery seems lazy this afternoon, and there, even there, where the red dust-clouds hang over a hell of slaughter, the fate of a nation is being decided. It is in vain I endeavour to imitate the imperturbability of the General, our ‘lance of iron,’ as the soldiers have learned to call him. A messenger or two rides up, and is dismissed. There is not a sign on that impassive countenance. Here is another, galloping at speed, grey with dust, and horse foaming with haste. At last! The General straightens himself up. He raises his hand to his _kepi_ with the golden leaves, as if he were saluting a superior. Is it France or Fortune!

The Staff, throwing away their cigarettes, are all animation now. Officers and orderlies gallop recklessly down the hill at break-neck speed. There is a stir amongst those sleeping columns below. Men spring to their arms. I can hear the harsh words of command, and note the tricolours with their golden fringes given to the breeze. The long lines ascend the hill. What has happened? The enemy in front is moving to the attack: we shall hold the second ridge as we held the first. But no, it is more than this. This time, as our guns come into action all along the crest, our infantry do not halt beside them. There is no pause now. Straight down the slopes they go, the shells screaming overhead, and the little groups of tirailleurs halting alternately to deliver their biting volleys. Here, sheltered by a friendly poplar, I can look down upon the scene. ‘What worthy enemies!’ cries a little surgeon who has joined me. ‘What a struggle of heroes!’ And so it was—while life lasts I shall never forget De Galliffet’s charge. Sixty thousand men, line after line, were hurled against the German centre. And how bravely those Germans fought! And now, looking back in cold blood, how needlessly were they butchered! Exactly opposite where I stood, their infantry moved forward with even more than the precision of a parade; in little squads, but shoulder to shoulder, with all the rigidity of a birthday review. I could even see the officers halting and actually correcting the alignment. Needless to say, these living targets were riddled through and through in the very moment of their pedantic folly. In the rear, too, came lines of men, gallantly moving forward to beat of drum, with that extraordinary, high-stepping pace which excites the ridicule of the Transatlantic visitor in Berlin. How the veterans of our Civil War would have scoffed at this slave-driver’s discipline! But even the veterans of the Wilderness and Gettysburg would have admired the bravery of those devoted Teutons. At 400 yards from each other the two lines came to a standstill. Very irregular is the front; here the French are giving back, and here the German officers are driving up their stragglers; all are standing, there is no cover on that open plain; the French volleys have dissolved into fierce individual fire, and the masses sway backwards and forwards in that infernal din. Of a sudden, behind me, sounds the blare of trumpets and the roll of many a score of drums. De Galliffet’s reserve is coming up to decide the conflict, and as the serried lines crowned the ridge, the Germans, battling fiercely in the valley below, began to break. And then, whilst the setting sun, pouring his red rays athwart the opposing hosts and striking radiance from the golden eagles of the tricolours, sank slowly on that awful Aceldama, the French army moved onward to its triumph. Wild and exulting were the shouts that rent the air; far above the roar of battle and the clang of drum and trumpet pealed the maddening cry for vengeance, and like a tornado—with irresistible strength and order—the young soldiers of the Republic swept down to obliterate the sorrow and the shame of 1870. Not for a moment was the issue in doubt. With all the hereditary courage of their caste, the German officers died in their tracks, disdaining to give back a single foot; but the Cuirassiers were once more let loose, the General himself directing their onslaught, and before darkness fell not a single sound man in the German army but was far upon the road to Metz. Our victory is complete; as I write, the cavalry is still pushing the pursuit.

THE GENERAL SITUATION.

THE LIBERATION OF POLAND.

LONDON.

Since the great battles took place which ended in the falling back of the Russian forces, events have followed in that region which have been of the utmost importance, though the mere details from day to day have not been of sufficient interest to chronicle. The Russian army in the field, unable after its severe losses to oppose the far out-numbering forces of its enemies, has adopted its traditional policy. It has retreated into the interior of the country, leaving large garrisons in Warsaw and Ivangorod. Germany has undertaken the siege of Warsaw, Austria that of Ivangorod. The German and Austrian cavalry, which have now asserted their absolute superiority over the Cossacks, have followed up the retreating Russians far enough to completely separate the Russian forces to the south of the great marsh region which stretches out behind the great fortress of Brest-Litewsk from those in the north. A German army is laying siege to Brest-Litewsk. The single line of railway which connects that fortress across the marsh has been utterly destroyed for an immense distance.

Meantime the two Governments, now in complete command of the open country, have taken a political step which cannot but be received with satisfaction by the civilised world. They have issued a proclamation declaring their intention to erect Poland into a buffer State against the aggressions of Russia, and have pledged themselves not to conclude peace without guaranteeing its independence. The exact borders of the restored kingdom have not been fixed, but it is apparently intended to include Lithuania, and to stretch up to the borders of the marshes.

One important fortress has already fallen. The Germans, taking advantage of the facilities which the rivers and the railways afforded them, have brought up heavy siege artillery, with which they have bombarded the defences of Novo Giorgiewsk. The effect of the cordite shells on parts of the fortifications which had not been adequately prepared to resist them, is described as amazing. These terrible instruments of destruction, now first used in war, are said to have simply swept away the solid defences of the place. The garrison was helpless, and after a most gallant but hopeless resistance surrendered.

It appears to be only a question of time, and not a long time, before the same process is applied to Warsaw. Indeed, the confidence of the Germans in this respect has put an end to what threatened to be an appalling tragedy. On leaving General Hashkoff in command at Warsaw, General Gourko had ordered him to expel the whole civil population of the town. This measure was adopted, not merely because of the notorious sympathies of the inhabitants with the invaders, but because Warsaw has been crowded with such immense numbers of disabled soldiers, and the place had been filled to such an extent by fugitives at the time when it was invested, that it was feared that provisions, on which a large demand had been necessarily made for the army in the field, would not last long. It was a terrible temptation to the Germans to repeat the method of the siege of Metz of 1870, and to throw on the Russians the responsibility for allowing the expelled inhabitants to starve.

Happily, other considerations prevailed. The rapid success at Novo Giorgiewsk, the complete knowledge that the Germans had of the nature of the defences with which they had to deal, the great importance of conciliating the Poles and enlisting them heart and soul in the cause, all contributed to induce the German authorities to receive the fugitives.

But there were forty-eight hours of suspense during which the sufferings of the inhabitants outside the walls, while not yet admitted into the German camp, were terrible, and their agonising fears still worse. The matter had to be referred to the Emperor, now in France. A personal appeal to his humanity by Her Majesty the Queen, most delicately and cautiously worded, but indirectly suggesting how difficult it would be to keep together the great Alliance if anything occurred that outraged the public conscience of Europe and America—and to do him justice, the real humanity of the Emperor himself—finally decided the question.

The wretched inhabitants were not only received, but carefully looked after, and at once dispatched to places safe from the clash of arms. Meantime, enormous numbers of Poles have been enrolled and equipped. Numbers of both officers and men trained in the Russian Army who have surrendered, or made good their escape, together with Polish officers from the Austrian and Prussian Armies serve as an admirable nucleus for enrolment, so that by the time the Russians are ready to attempt any advance against their victorious enemies, a new element of considerable importance will be added to these. A most valuable part of the contingent of trained Polish officers and soldiers was provided by the army which surrendered in Bulgaria. Russia has always pursued the policy of sending her Polish soldiers as far from their homes as possible; the army invading Bulgaria was, therefore, largely made up of these. They have gladly transferred their services on hearing of the coming regeneration of their ancient kingdom.

Meantime, it appears that Russia sees that she has no prospects, for some time to come, of being able to act offensively against the Allied Powers, and that they do not intend to favour her by plunging into Inner-Russia. Stores and transports must be collected in large quantities before the Russians can again advance, and the impoverished condition of the country makes this a very difficult task. As, however, she does not wish to keep her soldiers idle, and is most anxious to score a success somewhere before she asks for peace, which every day is becoming more inevitable for her, she has largely reinforced her army in Asia Minor, which has hitherto been kept inactive by her tremendous necessities in other directions.

Moukhtar Pasha has been falling back slowly and cautiously, as he found the forces increasing in his front. Several English officers are with his army. They speak highly of the efficiency which it has attained, and indignantly deny that any cruelties have been perpetrated by the regular Turkish soldiery, though they speak of the Kurds and Bashi-Bazouks as brutes, whom it is most difficult to keep in any kind of order—men who are as cowardly as they are brutal, and of whom the army would be well rid.

Over the movements of the English Army a dead silence has fallen. All letters whatever, whether of correspondents or others, since the fleet sailed after the Battle of Kosluji, have been stopped.

We have heard, indeed, of some of the fleet, probably cruisers, being off Odessa, and some alarm was recently created at Kertch by what was taken to be a combined expedition against that point. We have, however, as yet heard of no landing. This cannot last for long. We must get some news shortly. We know that immense numbers of vessels with stores, transport, and tools of all sorts have passed Constantinople with sealed orders to be opened only out of sight of land. Ministers are studiously reticent, and appeal to the patriotism of both Houses not to put inconvenient questions. Breathless excitement attends the next move.

Meantime, in France the situation remains nearly as our correspondent left it. The German armies, after their recent disasters, have been falling back and concentrating in the Vosges between the fortresses of Metz and Strasbourg. The French appear to be massing their forces chiefly in the neighbourhood of Belfort, though a large army has approached Metz, which is held by too powerful an army to be ignored. The French are in a state of great exultation and excitement, but considerable disenchantment has taken place as to the Russian alliance. They think that Russia has by no means proved the powerful ally they had expected. It is even no longer treason to say upon the Boulevards that sympathy with Poland was the ancient policy of France. Till the extent of their recent successes began to be popularly realised, it was even suggested that if the Germans would give up Alsace-Lorraine they might have their buffer State against Russian barbarism. Nay, some were not afraid to suggest that Germany might, if she would, create two buffer States on either frontier, a covert hint at the neutralisation of the Reichsland which a few weeks ago was received with silent assent. There can be no doubt also that the German people are becoming very weary of a war which threatens to be of indefinite length on either frontier. The Emperor, too, despite the successes on the Russian side which were not gained under his immediate command, has been not a little disillusioned as to the absolute infallibility of his own military genius.

The Italian forces have been checked by the news of the French successes, and the fear lest the vast forces now available might be turned against them.

Thus everywhere on the Continent it is a moment of temporary lull, though of active preparation for the future.

CAPTURE OF SIERRA LEONE BY THE FRENCH.

The letter which we publish from our Correspondent who accompanied the troops to India, must be preceded by a few words of explanation as to the circumstances which induced the Government to send a large party of officers and a small reinforcement of men by the Canadian Pacific route. That route for Calcutta is a little longer in point of time than the movement by the Cape. It was recognised from the first that in time of war it would not be desirable to depend upon the Suez Canal route, but it had been fully intended to employ the Cape line. Unfortunately, however, immediately after war was declared by France against us, communication with Sierra Leone was in some way cut. Some time passed before we heard what had happened. Then it appeared that, prior to the declaration of war, the French Governor of Senegal had been warned of the date at which it was intended in France to declare war, and was directed to dispatch from Goree a powerful expedition as quietly and secretly as possible. This, taking advantage of the concentration of the English fleets in the Baltic and Mediterranean, was to sail from Goree with sealed orders to be opened at sea, which directed the commanding Admiral, on a date named, to move straight upon Sierra Leone, and to attack it on the day that the declaration of war was issued in Europe.

It should be noticed, as a question of method and of the facilities presented by steam for such operations, that no great gathering of ships was allowed to attract attention to the preparations in Senegal, and ship after ship arrived, received its equipment, and departed alone, with orders to rendezvous on a given day at a stated point in mid-ocean, fixed by latitude and longitude. In this way, without attracting attention, and without difficulty, the great fleet was collected, and moved off at the time named under the orders of the Admiral and General upon Sierra Leone.

The garrison of Sierra Leone has always been kept at a low ebb, because of the unhealthiness of the place. It was to have been reinforced in view of war, but this had been postponed. The movement was a complete surprise, and though indignant remonstrances appeared in all the English papers, and in the letter addressed by the Governor of Sierra Leone to the French Commander-in-Chief, the fact remained that Sierra Leone had, for the time being, passed into the hands of the French. Although statements were freely made that such an outrage had never been committed since the beginning of the world, and most English people believed them, there was no difficulty in showing that precedents from the actions of all countries were in favour of the French. However, apart from the merits of that question, the plain fact of the matter was that, with Sierra Leone in the hands of the French, our whole route _viâ_ the Cape to India was seriously disturbed.

The French Fleet in Sierra Leone Harbour and based upon it, threatened the whole line between St. Vincent and Ascension, and deprived us of the fortified coaling station which was essential for the supply of steamers along that route. Though no doubt, in the long-run, Sierra Leone must fall to the Power which ultimately secures the command at sea, we could not afford, for some time, to fit out an expedition to retake it. The Government, therefore, wisely decided, after its capture, to employ the Canadian Pacific route for the purposes of communication with India and the East. To Hong-Kong it was already our shortest route. In any case, it was an absolutely safe one. The one great defect in this mode of communication consists in the fact that no first-class steamers at present ply across to Quebec. This, however, was remedied by the Government chartering for the time one of the best Atlantic liners, which easily transported the whole of the force, consisting of about 200 officers and 1000 men, chiefly non-commissioned officers, who were to be sent off to Calcutta.

SIEGE OF HERAT.