The Retreat from Mons

It is impossible to close the story of this, the most critical time of the great Retreat, without making mention of the inestimable services performed by the British cavalry under General Allenby. The moral superiority which they had so effectually established over the hostile horsemen during the enemy's first advance on Mons, was maintained and increased by every one of the many trials of strength which occurred all along the line between smaller and greater units of the two opposing cavalries. Invariably in all these encounters the German cavalry were driven behind the protection of their infantry and, thus hampering the latter's advance, assisted our troops to make good their retreat. The quality of the horses and equipment of the British, their unrivalled efficiency in dismounted fighting and in knowledge of ground, coupled with their intrepidity and dash whenever the smallest opportunity for mounted attack presented itself, enabled them effectually to prevent that which is most dreaded by a retreating army-the enterprises of hostile horsemen.

No praise can be too great for the British cavalry throughout this drastic initiation into the splendid work which they have invariably performed throughout the campaign.

It was in the early hours of the morning of the 27th that the commander of the Second Corps personally reported himself at Headquarters. He informed the Commander-in-Chief that the Second Corps and Fourth Division had suffered heavily and were very tired, but were now rapidly regaining order and cohesion. By dawn every available staff officer was en route for St. Quentin, and hour after hour, at their posts on the line of the Retreat, shepherded the troops towards their units, and the longed-for luxuries of food and drink and news. All through the morning detachments of every size and every conceivable composition kept filing past-some with officers, most with none-some hobbling and silent, others whistling and in step-but all with one accord most thoroughly persuaded (such are the fallacies of a retreat) that they were the last and only survivors of their respective commands. Many, after a brief halt, had marched all night, and up to one o'clock in the afternoon they were still coming in. A brief rest, some bread and coffee, and they were off once more, their troubles almost forgotten in the pleasure of rejoining their regiments and recovering their friends.

The general Retreat, which the battle of Le Cateau had so dangerously interrupted, resumed once more its normal tenor. Of the behaviour of the men during this trying period it is difficult to speak with moderation. They had passed through an ordeal, both physical and mental, such as few troops have ever had to face in their first week of war; and had displayed throughout a nobility of bearing and demeanour of which none who observed them can speak even now without emotion. Such courage and patience, such humorous resignation and cheerfulness in adversity, are to be paralleled only in the finest armies of history.

The resumption of the general Retreat and the restoration of march routine among the forces of the British left had one immediate and important consequence. It became possible to deal with the chief remaining weakness caused by the inability of the First Corps, as already pointed out, to reach its allotted position on the evening of the 25th. The First Corps had not been idle while the Second Corps fought; though never heavily engaged, it had been perpetually harassed, and was still, on August 27, suffering from the wide dispersion of its forces on the 25th. It was now moving south as best it could-keeping direction, but otherwise marching and bivouacking by brigades. On both flanks, indeed, throughout these early days of the Retreat, such was the imminence of the enemy, and such the variety of fortunes of the different brigades-and even battalions and companies-of the same division during any one day, that no strict uniformity of march or of line could be looked for. It speaks well for the commanders of brigade and regimental units that so unusually high a discretionary power was exercised so well, and with so little miscarriage either of individual units or of the general scheme. Some mishaps, of course, there were, of companies and battalions overtaken, cut off, or surprised. The capture of the greater part of the Second Munster Fusiliers at Bergues on the 26th is one of these incidents, to be set beside the destruction of the First Gordons, as part of the tragic waste inevitable in any continuous retreat before superior numbers. It is memorable, not only because, like the First Gordons, the regiment involved carried a famous name, but because it gave occasion to our cavalry to show once more in their Retreat their devotion to duty. It was entirely due to the skilful and audacious dismounted action of two troops of the Fifteenth Hussars that the battered remnant of the Munsters-about one hundred and fifty men-was saved from annihilation or surrender.

The Second Corps was still, on August 27, in advance of the First; but in both corps the Retreat continued incessantly. Sleep was cut down to a minimum; men fed, drank, and slept as they could, and always, when they rose from the roadside and stretched themselves to a new dawn, the word was "March." Their chief enemy now was not the Germans, but the road, the blazing sun, and the limits of their own flesh and blood. The worst, however, was over. By August 27/28 movement by divisions began to be possible; and by August 28 movement by corps. By August 28/29 the whole Army was in touch once more on the line Noyon-La Fère, and on Sunday the 29th, for the first time for eight days, the Army actually rested. It is a day they are never likely to forget. While the men rested, their commanders took stock; and before the march was resumed, brigades and divisions had been reorganized, stragglers restored, and deficiencies of men and material ascertained and noted. The reorganization was completed by the arrival of Major-General Pulteney, and the constitution of the Fourth Division and Nineteenth Infantry Brigade as a Third Army Corps under his command.

The reorganization of the British Force coincided with a gratifying change in the Allied dispositions. The British Army was not only in touch within itself, but in touch, also, on both its flanks, with the French; on the right, with the Fifth French Army, now, after many vicissitudes and much hard fighting, lying behind the Oise from La Fère to Guise; and on the left with a new French Army, still in process of formation, of which the nucleus was those same two divisions of infantry and three divisions of cavalry which General D'Amade and General Sordet had handled so much to our advantage on the afternoon of the 26th, and throughout the subsequent retirement. This Army (to be called henceforth, the Sixth) conscious of some mission above the ordinary, and daily increasing in strength, lay off, on the 29th, to the north-west of the British line, facing northeast with its right on Roye. It was a welcome change, removing none too soon that fear of isolation which had haunted all our movements. The situation of the British, scars and bruises notwithstanding, seemed suddenly almost promising, and with their flanks secured, for the first time since the Retreat began, they enjoyed a genuine feeling of relaxation. It was a feeling, happily, which the enemy at the moment was unable to disturb. His strength was diverted to the two French Armies, and except for some cavalry actions, in which our troops as usual were completely successful, there was little activity on the British front. On the morning of the 29th, while our men were resting behind the Oise, the main body of the pursuit was still engaged in crossing the Somme.

It was amazing to see how quickly the Army recovered during these days from the first strain of the Retreat. Even on the 28th the improvement was notable. A general cheerfulness pervaded the ranks, whence derived no one seemed to care, but splendid and infectious. Men toughened and hardened; the limpers grew fewer, and already battalions were to be met marching with the old swing to the old song. By the 29th-for always we come back to this crucial date-the first hard apprenticeship was over; and when the Army rose from its sleep to take the road once more, it looked and felt an army of veterans. Officers smiled as they watched their men, and speculated happily on the day to come.

The chief difficulty now was to replace wastage in equipment, etc., which had been enormous. For in the strain and confusion of the Retreat everything detachable had been lost or thrown away, and whole companies were found, perfectly fitted out eight days before, which had now scarcely a single greatcoat, waterproof sheet, or change of clothing left. The deficiency of entrenching tools-to take only one article of equipment, though that, perhaps, the most easily lost-amounted, in the troops which had fought at Le Cateau, to over eighty per cent. It was much easier, unfortunately, to tabulate these deficiencies than to supply them. The stores existed, indeed, but they were not to be had. They were lying for the fetching on the quays and in the dépôts of Havre and Rouen and Boulogne, but every day's march took us farther away from them and increased their exposure to the German advance. With Amiens already in the enemy's hands, and the Channel ports uncovered, we were, for a moment, that portent of the textbooks, an army without a base. It was a case for prompt measures, and prompt measures were taken. On August 29, while the Army was recounting deficiencies on the Oise, the Inspector General of the lines of communication, by order of the Commander-in-Chief, was arranging a grand removal to the mouth of the Loire, and on August 30, the new British base was temporarily established at St. Nazaire and Nantes, with Le Mans as advanced base in place of Amiens. It was a great achievement, but an unwelcome change, for both by sea and by land the distances were greater, and it had the inevitable consequence of delaying the arrival of everything on which the Army depended for replenishment. The infantry went without their greatcoats and entrenching tools; and though reinforcements of men continued to arrive at stated intervals, – the first reinforcement on September 5, and the second on September 7 and 8, – the guns which should have come on August 29 were not actually received till September 19. It was not until October 11, when the British Army was setting out for Flanders, that St. Nazaire was at last definitely closed down, and Havre and Boulogne reopened in its place. It was a difficult period for the administrative departments of the Army, and had its own triumphs.

The lull in operations on the British front during the 29th, and the restoration of contact with the French, were turned to good account by the Allied leaders, whose opportunities for meeting and exchanging views had hitherto been rare. A conference was held in the early afternoon at British Headquarters in Compiègne, which was attended not only by General Joffre and Sir John French, but by the three British corps commanders and General Allenby. The conference was presided over by the French Commander-in-Chief, who showed himself, then as always, where the British were concerned, "most kind, cordial, and sympathetic." "He told me," says Sir John French, "that he had directed the Fifth French Army on the Oise to move forward and attack the Germans on the Somme, with a view to checking pursuit. He also told me of the formation of the Sixth French Army on my left flank, composed of the Seventh Army Corps, four reserve divisions, and Sordet's corps of cavalry." In conclusion, having dealt with the immediate necessities of the British, he outlined once more his strategic conception, to draw on the enemy at all points until a favourable situation should be created for the desired offensive, and in conformity with that conception directed the Retreat to proceed. The bridges over the Oise were promptly destroyed, and at various hours between mid-afternoon of the 29th and early morning of the 30th the British forces set out on a twenty-mile march to the Aisne, through beautiful country which they were no longer too tired to enjoy. By the afternoon of August 30, the whole Army was in position a few miles north of the line Compiègne-Soissons, and at the same time the Germans occupied La Fère. On the morning of August 31 the Retreat was resumed, and from this date until September 4 continued practically from day to day in conformity with the movements of the French, our men becoming daily fitter and more war-hardened. Rumours, however, of successful French actions on our flanks, and, amidst much that was vague and wearisome, a growing sense of combination and ulterior purpose in their movements, encouraged all ranks.

The country now was much more difficult, for after the Forest of Compiègne is passed the land plunges into deep wooded ravines and break-neck roads, very trying for guns and transport, and for all manner of manoeuvres. The heat was intense, and, to make matters worse, the enemy pursuit, which had unaccountably languished, was becoming closer and more insistent. The British, bivouacked that night between Crépy-en-Valois and Villers-Cotteret, found themselves committed, on the morning of September 1, to two of the hottest skirmishes of the Retreat; one at Villers-Cotteret, where the Fourth (Guards') Brigade was covering the retirement of the Second Division, the other on the left at Néry, in the area of the Third Corps.

The action at Villers-Cotteret began about nine o'clock, in very difficult forest country, and continued until after midday, the Guards' Brigade maintaining its ground, despite heavy losses, with a steadiness and determination worthy of the heroes of Landrecies. It was an action easily described. The attack had been expected, and was repulsed. In this action the Irish Guards, who had only been under distant shell fire at Mons and had had little to do at Landrecies, received their full baptism of fire. It was their first real fight, and their commanding officer headed the casualty list. The action at Néry was quite unlike the action at Villers-Cotteret, for it came as a surprise, and at one time looked like becoming a tragedy. The first indication of danger had reached the Headquarters of the Second Corps at three o'clock in the morning, when a Frenchman reported having seen "forty German guns and a large force of Uhlans" moving in the direction of the Third Corps, and more particularly in the direction of Néry, where the First Cavalry Brigade with L Battery, R.H.A., was billeted, on the left front of the British line. Except as regards the number of the guns the report proved to be true. The Germans, concealed from the British by a thick mist, – six regiments of cavalry with two batteries of six guns each, – were in position by daybreak on the steep ridge which overlooks the village, when an officer's patrol of the Eleventh Hussars bumped suddenly into them out of the mist. It is possible that they were as much surprised as the British, for a mist works both ways; but they had the advantage in numbers, armament, and position. The alarm was scarcely given when their guns opened on the village, and by five o'clock, when the sun rose, the fight was in full swing.

It was a singular action, for though our cavalry, dismounted and hastily disposed, soon recovered from their surprise, nothing could alter the situation of L Battery. Thanks to the mist, it had been caught in a position as unsuitable for action as could well be conceived. Unlimbered in an orchard only four hundred yards off, and perfectly commanded by the German guns, it was throughout the fight a mere target for the enemy. A tornado of shell, machine-gun, and rifle fire was directed upon it, the battery meanwhile boldly replying, though its case was hopeless, and known to be hopeless, from the first. Soon only one of its guns was left in action, and on the serving of this one gun the attention of every surviving officer and man was concentrated, one after another falling killed or wounded under the fire of the now exasperated enemy. Captain Bradbury, loading, lost a leg; continued to direct, and lost the other, and was carried away to die so that, as he said, his men should not see his agony and be discouraged. When all the officers had fallen, Sergeant-Major Dorrell took command, and aided by the machine-guns of the Eleventh Hussars, was still maintaining the hopeless duel when about eight o'clock the Fourth Cavalry Brigade arrived, and not long after the First Middlesex leading the Nineteenth Infantry Brigade. The balance was reversed, and the enemy, with, it is said, the one gun of L Battery still firing at them, retired in disorder towards Verrines, leaving eight of their twelve guns on the field. Whatever their mission, it remained unfulfilled. In this action, in which a serious disaster was so successfully averted, the heroic performance of L Battery will always be memorable. It had lost, during the engagement, all its officers and eighty per cent of its gun detachments killed or wounded, without betraying by so much as a sign either discouragement or defeat. Distinctions were showered upon it, and Captain Bradbury, Sergeant-Major Dorrell, and Sergeant Nelson were awarded the Victoria Cross.

There is a sequel to this fight too exhilarating to be omitted. As the First and Fourth Cavalry Brigades were moving south next morning through the rides of the Forest of Ermenonville, they came on the tracks of horses and sent a troop to follow them up. "They found the ride strewn with German kit of all kinds, lame horses, etc., showing a hurried retreat. They had gone by five hours before, and turned out to be our Néry friends, the cavalry division, who had bumped into one of our columns and retreated rapidly, leaving their four remaining guns." It was a very satisfactory finish, and had a fine effect on the whole Army. The story of the capture of the twelve guns ran like wildfire through the ranks, and was recorded with pleasure by the French in their communiqué.

On September 2, very early in the morning, the Army was once more on the move. September 1 had been a hard day, and at one time something like a general engagement was threatened on the left and left centre of the British line, the Fifth and Fourth Divisions fighting model rear-guard actions which had much to do with the inactivity of the enemy on the following day. For on September 2 the pursuit once more relaxed, and by the evening the British had reached the north bank of the Marne, and were already arranging for the crossing on the following day. Both the march and the crossing had been contemplated with considerable misgiving by the Commander-in-Chief, for on September 2 the Army was no longer retiring, as it had hitherto retired, in the direction of Paris, but, owing to the position of the bridges, had swung southeast and was now executing what was in effect almost a flank march in the face of the enemy. The crossing of the Marne was an even more delicate operation, for it involved, in circumstances of comparative immobility, the same dangerous exposure to the enemy. The enemy, however, did nothing to interrupt our operations, and was, indeed, reported by our airmen to have swung south-east also, and to be moving in the direction of Château-Thierry, towards the front of the Fifth French Army. By the night of September 3 the whole of the British troops were safely across the river and all the bridges blown up. The left of the British Army was now actually in sight of the outlying forts of Paris, and there was much excitement among all ranks as to our ultimate destination. Should we, after all, enter Paris, and sleep in the beds of la ville lumière? It was not to be. A position was occupied between Lagny and Signy-Signets, and on the following day, while the enemy was bridging the Marne, the British Army made the last stage of the Retreat, finishing up, in the cool of the evening, on the line Lagny-Courtagon. This was their "farthest south," and on September 5, while they rested, the great news spread through the Army that the Retreat was over, and that next day the Advance would begin. It would be difficult to exaggerate the effect of the news. For though the Army had grown outwardly fitter and more cheerful during the last seven days, the profound distaste which was felt by all ranks for the perpetual retirement poisoned every activity. Was it never to end, this Retreat? Were we retiring, then, to the Pyrenees? With such bitter questions and mock-humorous answers, they beguiled the march. When the news came it was as if a great sickness had been lifted from their minds, and for the first time, perhaps, they realized fully, as men do when they rise from sickness, how infinitely tired and weary they had been. They could scarcely believe the news; but it came from quarters not to be denied. The "favourable situation" for which General Joffre had been waiting so patiently had come at last.