The Invasion of 1910

“We knew well enough – though most of us pretended ignorance – that we could not afford to pay for such an Army at a rate comparable to the current labour market rates, even if we had been twice as rich, and if shoals of recruits had been forthcoming. We were aware, in consequence, that some form of universal service was the only possible method of raising a real Army, but we shrank from making the personal sacrifices required. We were too indolent, too careless, too unpatriotic. Now we have got to pay for the pleasures of living in a fool’s paradise, and pay through the nose into the bargain. We have no right to grumble, whatever may be the outcome, and God only knows what the bitter end of this war may be, what final defeat may mean for our future as a nation. But I must quit moralising and betake myself to my narrative.

“In my letter of the 9th I left the Colchester garrison making their breakfast at Witham. I had understood that they were coming on to Chelmsford, but, as it turned out, the Leicestershires and Dorsets got orders to turn off to the right just before reaching Boreham, and to take up a position on the high ground east of Little Waltham, which is about four miles due north of Chelmsford. With them went a number of the heavy 4.7-inch guns we brought away with us. The Volunteers, Scottish Borderers, and the Lancasters – the latter of whom had been covering the flank of the retreat at Wickham Bishops – came in to Chelmsford, and during the evening were marched out and billeted in the houses thickly scattered along the Braintree road. The cavalry, after some slight skirmishing with the advanced patrols of Von Kronhelm’s Army, who came up with them near Hatfield Peverell, turned up in the afternoon.

“In Chelmsford, when I halted at the Saracen’s Head, I found there were the 2nd Lincolnshire and the 2nd Royal Scots Fusiliers, who had come up from Salisbury Plain, the 1st Hampshire and the 1st Royal Fusiliers from Portsmouth and the Isle of Wight. The 2nd South Wales Borderers from Tidworth and the 1st Border Regiment from Bordon Camp arrived in the afternoon, and were marched out to Great Baddow, half-way to Danbury. The 14th Hussars from Shorncliffe and the 20th from Brighton had also come in the day previously, and they at once moved out to the front to relieve the 16th Lancers and 7th Hussars, who had been covering the retiral from Colchester. The town was crowded with Volunteers in khaki, green, red, blue – all the colours of the rainbow – and I noticed two very smart corps of Yeomanry marching out to support the two regular cavalry regiments. Everyone seemed in good spirits on account of the news from Royston and the successful issue of the cavalry skirmish of the morning before. As Chelmsford lies in a kind of hollow, I could not see much from there, so in the afternoon I thought I would run out to the high ground near Danbury and see if I could get any idea of what was going on.

“As I passed Danbury Place I heard the deafening report of heavy guns close at hand. I found that the firing came from some of the Bluejackets’ 4.7’s near the church, where I had seen them at work at the opening of Purleigh Battle. I got out of my car and went up to the officer in charge, whom I met on that occasion. I asked him at what he was firing. ‘Look over there,’ he said, pointing towards Maldon. I saw nothing at first. ‘Look higher,’ said the sailor. I raised my eyes, and there, floating hundreds of feet over and on this side of the old town, a great yellow sausage-like something glistened in the sunlight. I recognised it at once from the photographs I had seen of the German manœuvres. It was their great military balloon, known as the ‘Wurst,’ or sausage, from its elongated shape. Its occupants were doubtless hard at work reconnoitring our position.

“Another gun gave tongue with an ear-splitting report, and then a second one, its long chase sticking up into the air like a monster telescope. They were firing high explosive shell at the balloon, hoping that the detonation would tear it if near enough. I saw the big shell explode apparently close to their target, but the distance was deceptive, and no apparent injury was done. After another round, however, it began slowly to descend, and soon disappeared behind the huddled roofs of the town. ‘Might have got her,’ remarked Akers, the commander in charge of the guns, ‘but I fancy not. But I reckon they thought it too warm to stay up. We had our balloon up this morning,’ he continued, ‘and I expect she’ll go up again before dark. They had a few slaps at her, but didn’t get within a mile of her. She’s in a field behind the woods at Twitty Fee, about half a mile over there, if you want to see her.’

“I thanked him and motored slowly off in the direction indicated. I noticed great changes on Danbury Hill since my last visit. Entrenchments and batteries had sprung up on every side, and men were still as busy as bees improving and adding to them. I found the balloon, filled with gas and swaying about behind a mass of woodland that effectually concealed it from the enemy, but as I was informed that there would be no ascent before half-past five, I continued my tour round the summit of the hill. When I arrived at the northern end I found that fresh defences were being constructed right away round to the westward side. The northern edge of Blake’s Wood had been felled and made into a formidable abattis, the sharpened branches of the felled trees being connected together with a perfect web of barbed wire.

“The same process was being carried out in the woods and copses at Great Graces. New Lodge had been placed in a state of defence. The windows, deprived of glass and sashes, were being built up with sand bags; the flower garden was trampled into a chaos; the grand piano stood in the back yard, forming a platform for a Maxim gun that peered over the wall. The walls were disfigured with loop-holes. Behind the house were piled the arms of a Volunteer Battalion who, under the direction of a few officers and N.C.O.’s of the Royal Engineers, were labouring to turn the pretty country house into a scarred and hideous fortress. Their cooks had dug a Broad Arrow kitchen in the midst of the tennis lawn, and were busied about the big black kettles preparing tea for the workers. New Lodge was the most suggestive picture of the change brought about by the war that I had yet seen. From the corner of Great Graces Wood I could see through my glasses that the outskirts of Great Baddow were also alive with men preparing it for defence. I got back to the balloon just in time to see it rising majestically above the trees. Either on account of their failure to reach it in the morning, or for some other reason, the enemy did not fire at it, and the occupants of the car were able to make their observations in peace, telephoning them to a non-commissioned officer at the winding engine below, who jotted them down in shorthand. From what I afterwards heard, it seems that a long procession of carts was seen moving northwards from Maldon by way of Heybridge.

“It was presumed that these contained provisions and stores for the IXth and Xth Corps from the big depôt which it had been discovered that the Saxons had established near Southminster. A few long-range shots were fired at the convoy from the big guns, but without any appreciable effect. The procession stopped though. No more carts came from the town, and those already out disappeared behind the woods about Langford Park. I understand that, apprised of this by signal from the balloon, the 14th Hussars made a gallant effort to attack the convoy, but they found the country east of the Maldon-Witham Railway to be full of the enemy, both infantry and cavalry, came under a heavy fire from concealed troops, and sustained considerable loss without being able to effect anything. It is believed that the movement of stores continued after dark, for our most advanced outposts and patrols reported that the rumble of either artillery or wagons was heard coming from the direction of the roads leading north out of Maldon almost the whole night through.

“On my return to Chelmsford I visited Springfield, where I found the Scots Fusiliers, a Militia, and a Volunteer Regiment entrenching themselves astride the railway.

“I dined with three brother newspaper men at the Red Lion Hotel. One of them had come from Dunmow, and reported that the First Army was busily entrenching itself on a long ridge a couple of miles to eastward of the town. He said he had heard also that the high ground about Thaxted had been occupied by some troops who had come up from the South on Sunday night, though he could not say what regiments they were. They had detrained at Elsenham, and marched the rest of the way by road. If his information is correct, the British Army on Monday night occupied an almost continuous line stretching from Baldock on the west to South Hanningfield, or perhaps Billericay on the south. A very extensive front, but necessary to be held if the forward march of the five German Army Corps operating in the Eastern Counties was to be checked. For though it would, of course, have been desirable to take the offensive and attack the Xth Corps during the temporary discomfiture of the Garde and IVth Corps, we were compelled in the main to adopt the tactics pursued by the Boers in South Africa and act almost entirely on the defensive on account of the poor quality of the bulk of our forces. There was this exception, however, that the few regular battalions were as far as possible placed in such positions that they would be available for local counter-attacks and offensive action. Our generals could not be altogether guided by the generally-accepted rules of tactics and strategy, but had to do the best they could with the heterogeneous material at their disposal.

“As to what the enemy were doing during this day we had no information worth speaking of, although there was a rumour going about late in the afternoon that Braintree had been occupied by the Hanoverians, and that the head of General Von Kronhelm’s Army Corps had arrived at Witham. However this may have been, we neither saw nor heard anything of them during the night, and I much enjoyed my slumbers after the fatigues of the last twenty-four hours. But this was but the lull before the storm. About ten a.m. the low growl of artillery rolled up from the south-east, and it began to be bruited about that the Saxons were attacking South Hanningfield in force, doubtless with the object of turning our right flank. I ordered out my motor, thinking I would run down to the high ground at Stock, five miles to the southward, and see if I could get an inkling of how matters were progressing. That heavy fighting was in progress I felt certain, for the cannonade grew momentarily louder and heavier. Hardly had I cleared the town, when a fresh outburst of firing boomed out from a northerly direction. I stopped irresolute.

“Should I go on or turn back and set my face towards Dunmow? I eventually decided to go on, and arrived at Stock about eleven. I could not get much information there, or see what was going on, so I decided to make for South Hanningfield. At the foot of the hill leading up to Harrow Farm I came across a battalion of infantry lying down in quarter column behind the woods on the left of the road. From some of the officers I ascertained that it was the 1st Buffs, and that they were in support of two Militia battalions who were holding the ridge above. The Saxons, they said, had come up from the direction of Woodham Ferris in considerable force, but had not been able to advance beyond the Rettendon-Battles-Bridge Road on account of the heavy fire of our artillery, which comprised several heavy guns, protected both from fire and sight, and to which their field batteries in the open ground below could make no effective reply.

“I had noticed for some little time that the firing had slackened, so I thought I might as well get to the top of the hill and get a view of the enemy. I did not see much of them. By the aid of my glass I fancied I could distinguish green uniforms moving about near the copses in front of Rettendon Hall, but that was about all. I looked towards Danbury and saw our big balloon go up, and I also observed the big German sausage wobbling about over Purleigh. But there was no sign of military movement on either side. All the time, however, I was conscious of the distant rumble of guns away to the northward, and as there was apparently nothing more to be seen at South Hanningfield for the present, I regained my car and started back for Chelmsford. I found the town buzzing like a hive of bees.

“The troops were falling in under arms, the station was full of people trying to get away by train, while the inhabitants were tramping away in crowds by the Brentwood and Ongar roads. The booming of the still distant guns sounded louder and faster, and rumour had it that the Hanoverians were trying to force the passage of the river at Ford Mill. I replenished my flask and luncheon basket, and started off in the direction of the firing.

“All along the road to Little Waltham I caught glimpses of khaki uniforms in the trenches that zig-zagged about on the river slopes, while I passed two or three regiments stepping northwards as fast as they could get over the ground. There was a grim, set look on the men’s faces that betokened both anger and determination.”