The Childrens' Story of the War, Volume 3 (of 10) / From the First Battle of Ypres to the End of the Year 1914

Fig. 2. Column deploying for Attack in Open Order.

Another theory of the German General Staff was that no existing fortress could withstand for more than a few days the effect of high explosive shells hurled from heavy howitzers. Up to about ten years ago it was thought that fortresses mounting heavy guns, and fully supplied with men, food, and ammunition, could hold out for months against a besieging force. The fixed guns of fortresses had then a far greater range than any movable guns that could be brought against them, and they were so powerful that they could, as a rule, put out of action the artillery of the besiegers.

A German Howitzer for Siege Work.    Photo, Daily Mirror.

Notice the caterpillar wheels which enable it to traverse soft roads without sinking in.

On page 200 of Volume I. you were told how a howitzer differs from an ordinary field gun. Let me repeat what I then said. The great difference between the action of an ordinary gun and that of a howitzer is the difference between a boy throwing a stone at a mark which he can see, and the same boy lobbing a stone over a wall so that it will fall on something hidden from his view. The ordinary field gun has a long, flat sweep of fire, and is therefore unable to shoot over hills, trees, or houses, or to drop shells on men lying close behind a bank or in a deep, narrow trench.

Look at this little diagram. A howitzer, A, is firing at a fort, B, from the other side of a hill. The howitzer is invisible from the fort, and the men firing the howitzer cannot see the mark at which they are aiming. But a man on or above the hill can see the fort easily, and can so direct the fire of the howitzer that it can lob its shells over the hill and drop them directly on the fort. The guns of the fort are incapable of hitting the howitzer. The shells which they throw pass right over the hill, and fall a long way behind it.

Until recently the fortress gun was master of the howitzer, for several reasons. The howitzers then in use were small, and their range was much less than that of heavy guns mounted in forts. No matter how carefully the howitzers were concealed or how frequently they were shifted about, they were sure sooner or later to be "spotted" from the fortress, and put out of action. The explosives which were then used in the howitzer shells were not sufficiently powerful to destroy the steel and concrete of the forts, and there was much difficulty in discovering, whether the aim of these high-angle guns was true.

The Austrian and the German General Staff had studied all this very carefully, and they had come to the conclusion that howitzers could be constructed of such a size that they would be more than a match for fortress guns. Former howitzers were 6 inches across at the mouth; but before the war the Austrians built howitzers of from 11 to 12-inch calibre. This doubling of the calibre meant that the new weapon was eight times as powerful as the old one. Such howitzers could throw their shells from an immense distance, and could take advantage of steep cover so far off that the fortress guns could not reach them. Though the new howitzers were so heavy, they were capable of being moved from place to place as soon as they were "spotted".

Not only was the howitzer made much bigger than formerly, but new and very powerful explosives were discovered, and huge shells were filled with them. Experiments led the German Staff to believe that these explosives would utterly destroy the forts, no matter how solidly they might be constructed. How to aim these howitzers correctly was the only remaining difficulty. Aeroplanes and balloons solved the problem. Observers could fly high enough to see the forts, note where the shots fell, and signal to the gunners so that they could find the exact range.

The Germans believed that no fortress along the line of their advance could long resist their big howitzers and high explosive shells. The French, on the other hand, thought that such ring fortresses as those at Liége, Namur, and Verdun could hold out for a considerable time. During the Russo-Japanese War of 1904-5, Port Arthur, though attacked by howitzers, held out for eleven months. The French saw no reason why their forts should not resist for several weeks at least.

From what you have read in the former volumes you know that the German theory was right, and that the French theory was wrong. Liége, Namur, Maubeuge, and Antwerp all fell before the high explosive shells of the huge howitzers in an astonishingly brief time. Verdun did not fall, it is true, but this was because the French turned it into a new type of fortress altogether. They made field works at a considerable distance from the old forts, and moved out the heavy guns to advanced trenches. Rails were laid down so that as soon as the guns were "spotted" they could be moved to new positions at short notice. Thus, as I told you on page 280 of Volume II., instead of fixed forts, each, say, mounted with ten heavy guns, these same ten guns were "dotted here and there in trenches rapidly established in one place and another, along perhaps half a mile of wooded vale, and free to operate, when they moved, over perhaps double that front." This is the German theory of fortification, and Verdun was saved because the French adopted it.

Another theory of the German Staff was that high explosive shells could be used with great effect not only against fortresses but against troops in the field. In former wars shrapnel[4] was largely used, but in the present war the Germans believed that high explosive shells would be more effective.[5] Modern armies, as you know, "dig themselves in" whenever they can, and fight from trenches. Against troops in deep trenches with good head-cover shrapnel is not very deadly. When trenches have been occupied for some time they become little fortresses, with strong parapets and entanglements of barbed wire in front of them. Before sending infantry to attack such trenches, the Germans determined to fire high explosive shells at them, so that the barbed wire would be torn away, the parapets of the trenches would be blown in, and the defensive works destroyed. In this respect, too, the German theory proved correct, and when the trench warfare began in real earnest the Allies had to follow the German example. Months passed, however, before their supply of howitzers and high explosive shells was sufficient to enable them to cope with the Germans on equal terms.

The Effect of Shrapnel on Trenches.

Some four hundred to five hundred balls and splinters spread forwards, downwards, and fan-wise when the shell bursts.
(By permission of The Sphere.)

In Volume I., page 189, I gave you some account of the machine gun which, as you will remember, discharges automatically and accurately some four hundred or five hundred shots a minute. As a rifleman can only fire about a dozen aimed shots in the same time, a machine gun is equivalent to at least thirty riflemen. It discharges its bullets in a cone-shaped stream, and is even more deadly than sustained rifle fire. Prior to the war each battalion in the British army was provided with two machine guns. The German General Staff, however, provided each unit of its infantry with a large number of machine guns,[6] which were so mounted that they could be carried rapidly over every kind of ground. The result was that the Germans had a very marked advantage over the Allies in machine firing power. Here, again, the German theory was correct, and the Allies were forced to follow suit and increase greatly their supply of machine guns.

The Germans have no faith in the waiting game. They believe that constant attack is the best form of defence. It is foreign to their ideas to wait for the enemy to attack them; everywhere and always they endeavour to strike at the foe. They believe with the American humorist:

In order to enable troops to strike swiftly, and, therefore, to take the enemy unawares, the Germans provided themselves with fleets of motor cars in which they conveyed their soldiers to the points where they were needed. The admirable Belgian and French roads enabled the motors to travel very quickly, and this accounts in large measure for the rapid pursuit of the Allies. The motor cars were meant to be specially useful in making those flanking movements by which German generals strive to envelop their enemies. These flanking attacks, however, were not successful, perhaps because it was impossible to transport sufficient artillery along with the men.

The Effect of High Explosive Shells on Trenches.

A breach is made in the wire entanglements and the chief force of the explosion is downwards.
(By permission of The Sphere.)

Finally, let me deal for a few moments with a theory that proved to be hopelessly wrong, so entirely mistaken that it robbed the Germans of that speedy victory which they confidently expected, and led to a long and uncertain trench war in the West. What was this theory?

The German General Staff believed that Paris would prove to be a great trap for the French. They believed that in no circumstances would the French Government permit Paris to be abandoned by the French armies. They thought that if Paris were threatened, one of two things would happen—either the French armies would be massed round the capital for its defence, or they would be divided, and some would try to hold the frontier, while others tried to hold the city. Further they felt sure that if the French Commander-in-Chief should wish to keep his armies undivided so that he could fight on the most advantageous ground, irrespective of whether Paris fell into German hands or not, the French politicians would interfere and overrule him. Then quarrels and confusion would arise; there would be no unity of purpose; divided authority would prevail, and France would go to pieces.

Whatever happened, the Germans felt confident of victory. They had more men in the field than France could possibly bring against them. If they fought pitched battles with the full strength of the French forces outside Paris, they were bound to win, because they were superior in men and guns. If the French forces were divided, their task would be still easier; and if the French politicians interfered, France would do much to destroy herself. Such was the theory; now let us see how it worked out.

From the very beginning of the struggle the French military authorities determined that they would conduct the war in their own way, and that they would not brook any interference from the politicians. They foresaw all the difficulties on which the Germans counted, and they fully realized that if they allowed their plans to be hampered by defending Paris they would fall into a trap from which there would be no escape. While, therefore, the enemy was making his great drive towards Paris, and even when he seemed to be on the point of besieging it, they did not attempt to go to its rescue, but still retreated, so that their line could be built up anew, and an advance made when the time was ripe. It is true that a new army had been mobilized in and around Paris, but it was not meant for the defence of the capital; it was intended for quite another purpose.[7]

When von Kluck was near the outer fortifications of Paris he discovered that the German theory was all wrong. He was forced to swerve in order to follow up the French and British, and in the act of swerving he was caught, and forced to retreat. Thus that rapid success in the West which was the very keynote of the German plan of campaign was rendered impossible.

CHAPTER III.

Now the movements by which the various armies of the Allies swung into these positions are very difficult to follow, and you must give me all your attention if you are to have clear ideas about them. First of all, we must know something about the character of country in which the war was to be waged for many months to come. Within this region there are several important towns which are mentioned in your geography books. There are also numberless villages which are quite unimportant in themselves, but have become world-renowned because they have been the scene of great and stirring incidents. I shall mention these villages as they occur in the course of the story, but the general character of the country and the position and importance of the larger towns I must deal with now. Do not begrudge the time given to this and the following chapter. It will enable you to follow with intelligent interest the story hereafter to be told; and to picture for yourselves the scenes amidst which some of the most terrible struggles in all history have taken place.

Most of the region from the Somme to the mouth of the Yser is comprised within the two French departments of Pas-de-Calais and Nord, and the Belgian province of West Flanders. Pas-de-Calais is the French equivalent for the Strait of Dover, and the department is so called because its shores are mainly washed by that narrow neck of sea. The department of Nord lies to the north and east of Pas-de-Calais, and merges into the Belgian province of West Flanders.

Nearly the whole of it is a plain, and much of it is as flat as the Fen district of Lincolnshire. A line of low heights runs south-east from Gris Nez,[8] and forms the watershed between the rivers running to the North Sea and those which empty themselves into the English Channel. The most important river of the region is the Lys, a tributary of the Scheldt. It rises in the heights just mentioned, and winds across the country north-eastwards to join the Scheldt at Ghent. Notice very carefully the course of this river, for it crosses the country almost midway between the two most important towns in the region from the Scarpe to Nieuport—the French city of Lille, and the Flemish city of Ypres.

Bird's-eye View of the Country from Arras to the Sea.

From Arras to the sea near Ostend is a distance of over sixty miles. Nearly the whole of this stretch of country is a dead level. There is a crescent of low heights south of Ypres, but elsewhere, save at and near Cassel, about eighteen miles west of Ypres, there is not a hill worth mention. The hill of Cassel rises suddenly from the plain to a height of 515 feet, and from the summit there is a very extensive view. It is said that thirty-two towns and a hundred villages can be seen from this windmill-studded hill. What is called the Mont des Cats is about the same height as the hill of Cassel. It stands almost on the frontier, to the south-west of Ypres, and was of the greatest importance to the Allies, for it was the key to their position north of the Lys.

Brothers in Arms.    Photo, Alfieri.

A British and a French soldier chatting together in Flanders.

I have already told you something of the ancient and beautiful city of Arras.[9] It is the capital of the department of Pas-de-Calais, and stands on the Scarpe, a tributary of the Scheldt. The old province of Artois, of which it was the capital, has changed hands very often during the course of its long and warlike history. It has been successively French, Burgundian, Flemish, Burgundian, German, and Spanish, and it finally came into the possession of France in 1640. You will remember that Arras, the capital, was formerly famous for the tapestry hangings known by its name. The manufacture, however, has long been extinct, and the city has now such varied industries as soap, oil, cast iron, salt, sugar refining, lace making, and the manufacture of agricultural implements. It is also one of the chief grain markets of France.

Arras, as you will observe from the map on page 28, stands in a gap in the line of hills which I have mentioned as forming the watershed. Through this gap run the river Scarpe, many roads, and the main railway from Liége by way of Namur, Mons, and Valenciennes to the Channel ports. An enemy striving to push westwards to the English Channel would naturally strive to gain possession of Arras because of its convenient road and railway communications.

Arras was formerly a beautiful little city, but it stands on the edge of perhaps the ugliest stretch of country on earth. Ten miles north of it is the town of Lens, south of which the Black Country of France begins. I have already told you that the Sambre cuts through an important coalfield. This coalfield is continued west into North France as far as the right bank of the Lys. The area of the coal-bearing region in Pas-de-Calais is about 240 square miles, and its yield is about twenty million tons per annum, which is about one-half of the total yearly output of France, but not a twelfth part of the annual production of Great Britain. You may be sure that this coal-bearing area is a busy and grimy region of pits and factories, much like the coal-mining parts of Lancashire or the West Riding of Yorkshire. There are the same straggling towns of mean houses merging into one another, the same mounds of refuse topped by the head-gear of pits, the same dirty roads, the same factory buildings, and the same criss-cross of railways and canals. The Lys, like the Irwell and the Aire, is black and foul with the grime of industry.

Béthune, which may be said to mark the western limit of the coalfield, has numerous pits in the neighbourhood, and a variety of industries such as are usually found in towns similarly situated. It stands twenty miles west-south-west of Lille, and is connected with it by an important canal which runs almost directly east to La Bassée for about seven miles. Beyond La Bassée the canal continues its eastward course for another four miles, and then unites with a canal system running north-eastward to Lille. Along both sides of the canal there are important railway lines connecting Lille with Béthune and the Channel ports.

La Bassée is a small manufacturing town of 4,800 inhabitants, with no special features to distinguish it from dozens of others in this industrial region, but owing to its military importance in the present war it will henceforth enjoy a fame which many a city of old renown might envy. You already know that the canal from Béthune to La Bassée was chosen as the dividing line between Maud'huy's army and the British forces. The point where two Allied armies join hands is always considered to be the weakest part of any defensive position. You will learn, as the story proceeds, that the Germans made the most determined efforts to break through the sally-port of La Bassée, and that the British strove with all their might to push through the German lines in the same neighbourhood, so as to cut the railway by which the enemy was able to move his troops rapidly from north to south, and vice versâ.

Another industrial town in this region which must detain us for a moment is Armentières,[10] which stands on the Lys about ten miles north of La Bassée. Before the war it was a busy and prosperous place, with a population of some 29,000. Its chief manufactures were cloth and table linen. The Belgian frontier meets the Lys near Armentières, and continues north-eastward along the left bank of the river.

CHAPTER IV.

By far the most important place between the Aisne and the coast of Belgium is Lille, which is less than eight miles from Armentières. In Lille we find ourselves in a city of more than 200,000 inhabitants, which was formerly the capital of French Flanders. It stands in the well-watered and very fertile plain of the Deule,[11] a navigable tributary of the Lys, and is connected with all the rivers of the district by a bewildering network of canals. Formerly it was considered to be a fortress of the first class, and its citadel was said to be the masterpiece of Vauban,[12] the great military engineer. He was a soldier of the Spanish army, who was taken prisoner by the French, and was induced by them to join the French service. His life was chiefly spent in making and besieging fortresses. He conducted no less than forty sieges, took part in more than three hundred combats, and built or helped to build one hundred and sixty fortresses.

For ages Lille has been a storm-centre of war. It has been so frequently mishandled by besiegers that the Church of St. Maurice is the only building of importance which has survived from the Middle Ages. Lille is the greatest industrial centre of North France, and its linen, woollen, and cotton factories, its oil and sugar refineries, its chemical works and great engineering and motor shops are of the utmost importance. It is a handsome place, with many fine public buildings, and its picture gallery is famous all over Europe because it contains some of the best work of the Flemish and Dutch schools.

You can now understand why Lille is a great prize of war. We shall read later that it was captured by the Germans. Its loss was a great blow to the Allies, because it not only controls seven railway lines and a great network of roads, but contains engineering and motor shops, which enabled the enemy to carry out important repairs and to manufacture many necessary implements of war within a mile or two of his front. Further, when Lille was lost, the proceeds of its manufacturing activity went to the Germans, and this rich, busy city thenceforth contributed nothing to the war expenses of France.

A little to the north-east of Lille are two other large manufacturing towns in the midst of one of the busiest industrial districts of France. Roubaix[13] is the first of these, and Tourcoing[14] is the second. In Belgium, a few miles north-west of Tourcoing, is the much smaller industrial town of Menin,[15] which stands on the Lys where the main road from Bruges crosses the river on the way to Lille.

North of the Lys we are in another world. We have left behind us the ugly pit mounds, the grimy towns, and the smoke of factories. We are now in West Flanders, in a countryside of market gardens, where every inch of ground is closely tilled, and the fields are laid out like a chessboard. There are many patches of woodland, some of them, such as the Forest of Houthulst, six or seven miles north of Ypres, being fairly large. West Flanders is not naturally fertile, but its dairy farmers and market gardeners, by dint of the greatest industry, have turned it into a rich and productive land. Six or seven hundred years ago its wealth came from a different source. Its cities were then bustling hives, in which most of the woollen cloth used in Europe was spun and woven.

The Cloth Hall at Ypres before Bombardment.

The busiest and wealthiest of these cities was Ypres, which stands about twelve miles north of Armentières. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries there were some four hundred guilds of cloth manufacturers in the place, and its people numbered more than 200,000. So famous was its cloth that we find the English poet Chaucer[16] referring to it in his Canterbury Tales. His Wife of Bath, who was one of the pilgrims, was a cloth manufacturer, and Chaucer tells us that her wares "passed them of Ypres and of Gaunt" (Ghent). Before the war broke out Ypres was a little town of less than 18,000 people, and its industries were represented by its butter market and its small manufactures of lace and linen. But within it, as in the other ancient cities of Belgium, were some of the most glorious old buildings in all the world—the houses of the rich old burghers, the halls in which they met to transact their business, and the churches in which they thanked God for their prosperity. They spent their money lavishly on these buildings and filled them with treasures of art.

The glory of Ypres, prior to the war, was the Cloth Hall, the largest and finest edifice of its kind in Belgium. It was begun in 1200, and was more than a hundred years a-building. The front was 433 feet in length, and the building consisted of three stories, with a high-pitched roof broken by dormer windows. The niches of the top story were filled with statues of Flemish counts and celebrated inhabitants of the city. On the south side rose a massive belfry, with pinnacles at the angles. The east side of the hall was formed by the so-called Nieuwerk, one of the most beautiful buildings of its kind. I am obliged to describe the Cloth Hall of Ypres in the past tense, for unhappily it is now in ruins. Ypres had also a very fine cathedral, a meat hall, and a large number of old houses with carved wooden fronts. They, too, have been destroyed, more or less, by shot and shell.

In the days of its greatness Ypres, like Manchester of to-day, needed a waterway to the sea, so that it could rapidly and cheaply import wool from abroad, and export its finished cloth to distant markets. Ypres stands on a little river which is a tributary of the river Yser, a stream almost unknown to Britons before the war began, but now inscribed on the pages of history. The Yser rises to the west of Cassel, and flows in a curving course to enter the sea near Nieuport. A canal was cut from Ypres to the Yser, which was itself canalized, and thus the city provided itself with a waterway to the sea.

On the canal, twelve or thirteen miles north of Ypres, is the village of Dixmude,[17] which is also one of the "dead cities" of Belgium. Its fine Grand' Place, its noble Church of St. Nicholas, its Gothic town hall, and its heavily shuttered stone houses, show us that it was formerly a place of wealth and importance. Now, says a recent writer, "its eleven hundred inhabitants might easily stand in a corner of the Grand' Place. The passer-by—there is rarely more than one—disturbs the silence, and one hears scarcely any sounds save the chimes in the tower or the cooing of doves on the cornices." Alas! since the tide of war rolled into this part of Belgium, those inhabitants who remain have continuously been deafened by the roar of great guns, and the towers from which the chimes rang out and the cornices on which the doves cooed have been levelled with the ground.

Nieuport, the outport of Ypres, is the last of the towns in this region to which I shall call your attention. It stands about two miles from the mouth of the Yser, and, like Ypres and Dixmude, is only a relic of what it once was. About 4,000 people were dwelling in it before the war broke out, but its long, silent streets, with their massive houses, showed plainly that it was formerly a populous and busy place. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries its quays were thronged with ships discharging wool from England for the looms of Ypres, or filling their holds with the fine cloth made in the old city. Before the war, Nieuport still retained its cloth hall, town hall, and venerable Gothic church as memorials of this busy and prosperous time. When the trade of Ypres departed, Nieuport fell into decline. Prior to the war it was a small, quiet place, visited by a few ships and by occasional tourists. Everybody knows it now as the scene of battles which will change the destiny of the world. Beyond Nieuport are the great sand dunes which line the coast of Belgium, and extend as far west as Calais. From the top of the dunes we look out on the restless and shallow waters of the North Sea.

We have now traversed the region over which warfare was to rage for many months to come.

Before I close this chapter, let me remind you that the whole region between Arras and the North Sea is filled with historical memories of former warfare. This is by no means the first time that the British have fought in West Flanders and Artois. Marlborough,[18] for example, fought the greatest of his campaigns in this region, during the long struggle between Louis XIV. of France and the allied forces of England, Holland, and Austria. I am going to tell you about these campaigns in some detail, because they have features greatly resembling those of the present struggle.

Marlborough's great aim, was to recapture the valleys of the Lys and the Scheldt, which in the year 1708 were in the possession of the French. These rivers were then all-important, because they were the great lines of communication for armies fighting in Flanders and North France. It was by means of the rivers that food and munitions were brought to the soldiers and the heavy guns were moved from place to place. What railways are to modern commanders, navigable rivers were to generals in the long ages before steam.

All the fortresses on the Scheldt were in the hands of the French, except Oudenarde,[19] which you will find on the accompanying map, thirty miles to the east of Ypres. At the time when our story opens, Oudenarde was about to be attacked by the French. Marlborough made a wonderful forced march, and fell upon them as they were advancing towards the fortress. By nightfall on July 11, 1708, he had won a great victory, and the remnants of the French army had fallen back in disorder to Ghent. While Marlborough was waiting for reinforcements to come up, some of his troops seized a French position near Ypres, and his main army encamped near Menin.

Marlborough now proposed to besiege Lille, the greatest fortress on the road to Paris. He could not bring his siege train by way of the river, so it had to lumber slowly along the roads, and while doing so was in great danger of being captured by the enemy. Thanks, however, to his skilful arrangements, his heavy guns arrived safely, and then the siege began in real earnest. Lille was very strongly fortified, and was garrisoned by 15,000 men. While the siege was in progress a French army of more than 100,000 men marched to its succour; but so strongly was Marlborough posted that it did not dare to attack him. Instead of doing so it fell back behind the Scheldt, so as to cut off Marlborough's forces from Brussels. As, however, he still held Ostend, he was able to get supplies from England.

The French now tried to seize Ostend, so that Marlborough might be cut off from the sea and bottled up. He sent forces against them; but the French fell back before him and opened the sluices of the canals, thus flooding much of the country between him and the sea. A little later they succeeded in capturing Nieuport, and Marlborough was cut off from Ostend.

On 9th December Lille surrendered after the garrison had lost 8,000 men, and the besiegers not less than 14,000. Marlborough also captured Ghent, and at the end of December 1708 the French left Flanders altogether, and retired into their own territory. Thus the valleys of the Lys and Scheldt were recovered.

Map illustrating Marlborough's Campaigns in Artois and West Flanders.

Before I proceed with the story of Marlborough's campaigns, let me point out that during the race to the sea there was a similar struggle between the Allies and the Germans for the possession of the same valleys. The Allies were hastening north in order to push across the Lys and Scheldt and cut the German communications. Unhappily the Germans moved northwards so rapidly that this was impossible. Further, when Antwerp fell, a German army was released which made a great effort to outflank the Allies by way of the coast. Each side foiled the other, and the result was the long trench war which will be described in future pages.

Now let us return to our muttons. In the spring of 1709 Marlborough, who was now in possession of Lille proposed to march on Paris. The French knew that if he could seize Arras he would possess the gate to the capital. They therefore prepared to block his way by strongly entrenching themselves on a line extending from Douai,[20] which lies on the Scarpe about fourteen miles north-east of Arras, to Béthune. These trenches passed through La Bassée, where, as you know, the French and the British joined hands during the race to the sea in October 1914. Marlborough found these lines too strong to be carried by direct assault, so he turned aside and besieged Tournai, the town in which French Territorials, assisted by a British battery, made a very gallant stand on August 24, 1914.[21] Tournai surrendered after a siege of about thirty-seven days, and then Marlborough marched on Mons, the place where von Kluck, on August 23, 1914, vainly endeavoured to overwhelm the British.[22]

The Battle of Malplaquet (September 11, 1709).

(From the picture by Jan van Huchtenburgh).

While Marlborough was besieging Mons, the French, fearing that the fortress would suffer the fate of Lille and Tournai, marched an army against him. They entrenched themselves in a strong position on the edge of the broken and wooded country which fills the angle between two small rivers which unite at Mons, and were there attacked by Marlborough on September 11, 1709. After what he calls "a very murderous battle" the French were outflanked and their centre was broken through. The British encamped the following night on the French position, but they had lost so many men that they were unable to advance any further that year. You will find this victory referred to in your history books as the Battle of Malplaquet.[23]

John Churchill, first Duke of Marlborough.
(Photo by Walker and Cockerell, from the painting in the National Portrait Gallery.)

In April 1710 the campaign was resumed. Douai was captured, but Arras and the road to France were found to be protected by a line of trenches which foiled even Marlborough. Béthune and other places fell into his hands; but during the winter the French extended their trenches from Namur on the east right to the coast, and the barrier seemed impregnable. In 1711, however, Marlborough carried out a series of movements which are said to be the most wonderful in the whole history of tactics. Early in August he approached the French lines as if about to attack Arras. The French massed their forces to meet him, and in order to do so had to weaken their hold on the trenches farther east. Suddenly, on the same night, Marlborough made a forced march of thirteen leagues to the left. Many of his men dropped from fatigue, but with the remainder he seized a portion of the trenches, and was behind the French lines while the French army was still awaiting his attack on Arras. He had completely outwitted the French general, though, for various reasons, he was unable to take further advantage of his success.

The French trenches of which you have just read ran, roughly, east and west, and were meant to stop an advance on Paris from the north. During the race to the sea the rival armies were moving from the south to the north. Each was trying to outflank the other. The Allies wished to strike eastwards, and the Germans westwards, and the result was that the lines of trenches in which they opposed each other ran from north to south.

CHAPTER V.

Arras had already been in German hands. During von Kluck's rush on Paris his troops drove out the weak French forces holding the city,[24] and occupied it up to the middle of September. When, however, the deadlock occurred on the Aisne, they withdrew from the quaint old place without doing it very much harm.

It was on the last day of September 1914 that Maud'huy began to extend his army beyond that of de Castelnau. Soon his left was at Lens, and his cavalry was scouring the country still farther north towards the Lys and the Yser. Several Territorial regiments attached to his army had already been sent to occupy Lille and Douai. You can easily understand that those weak forces would be in great danger if the Germans were to sweep round to the west. The Allied generals, however, believed that they were ahead in the race, and that they would be the first to overlap. They were quite mistaken: the Germans were ahead, and were now preparing to overlap by sending cavalry and infantry in motor buses towards the line of Béthune and Cassel.

On the afternoon of 1st October Douai had to be abandoned, and that very day the German guns began to thunder on the hills surrounding Arras. Von Buelow attacked Maud'huy in great force on the flats to the east of the city, while the Bavarians attempted to outflank him on the north. Though he received reinforcements he was obliged to retire behind the city and take up a position on the encircling hills. Before doing so he warned all the men of military age to leave the place. Then began a pitiful exodus to the coast.

For two days the Germans fiercely bombarded Arras: the beautiful sixteenth-century town hall, with its superb clock tower, was ruined, and the cathedral, as well as many of the historic houses, was badly damaged. Shells were rained on the place; but the French maintained a stubborn front, and refused to give way. The attack continued right through the month. A most determined assault was made between the 20th and the 26th, when the Prussian Guard came into action; but the enemy could not cross the ramparts. On the 31st a large German force was allowed to enter the suburbs, where a trap had been prepared. The result was that a battalion of the Guard surrendered, and a military train with one of the great siege howitzers was captured.

Maud'huy held the gate at Arras against all comers, and too great praise cannot be given to him and his brave troops. Had the Germans been able to sweep through the Arras gate the whole subsequent history of the war would have been changed.

On the 3rd of October, when the Germans were closing in on Arras, their patrols were reported on the outskirts of Lille, which they had also entered during their southward march,[25] but had subsequently abandoned. The mayor at once warned the inhabitants to keep cool, to avoid gathering in crowds, and to give no offence to the enemy should he enter the city. Next day the cracking of rifles was heard in the suburbs, and several shells fell in the streets, one of them striking the town hall. A new German force was advancing towards Lille from Belgium. During the morning an armoured train containing 300 Uhlans came dashing towards the station. A signalman promptly switched it on to a siding, and the French attacked it. The surprised Uhlans tried to take refuge in the neighbouring houses and workshops, but most of them were captured next morning.