THE STATE OF THE GAME, AND THE NEW MOVES.

The huge, stubborn, vehement and bloody conflict waged in the rural tract between the northern edges of the Bois de Vaux and the Forest of Jaumont, which the French Marshal called the “Defence of the Lines of Amanvillers,” the French Army, “the Battle of St. Privat,” and the Germans the battle of “Gravelotte-St. Privat,” established the mastery of the latter over “the Army of the Rhine.” Marshal Bazaine had not proved strong enough to extricate the Army he was suddenly appointed to command from the false position in which it had been placed by the errors and hesitations of the Emperor and Marshal Leboeuf. He had not been able to retrieve the time wasted between the 7th and 13th of August, by imparting, after that period, energy and swiftness to the movements of his troops, or, if he possessed the ability, of which there is no sign, he did not put it forth. Certain words imputed to General Changarnier, correctly or otherwise, hit the blot exactly. “Bazaine,” the General is represented as saying, “was incapable of commanding so large an Army. He was completely bewildered by its great numbers. He did not know how to move his men. He could not operate with the forces under his orders.” So simple an explanation did not, of course, satisfy those who could only account for a stupendous calamity by accusing the Marshal of treason. But on the 19th of August, the Emperor was still on the throne, and whatever thoughts may have passed through the mind of Bazaine after Sedan, it is inconceivable that he wilfully sacrificed the Army before that event. He was misinformed, he could not grasp the situation, he formed conjectures, without any solid basis, and acted on them; he was oppressed by the comparative want of provisions and munitions; and, above all, he could not resist the magnetism exerted by a stronghold like Metz, a magnetism which is likely to prove fatal to other weak captains who will have to handle armies, counted by hundreds of thousands, in the vicinity of extensive fortified camps. The consequences of the battles of Colombey, Vionville and Gravelotte are sufficiently accounted for by a recognition of the errors which, from the outset, placed the Army of the Rhine in a position whence it could have been extricated by a Napoleon or a Frederick, but not by a Bazaine; and only quenchless wrath, born of defeat, or “preternatural suspicion,” too rife in the French Army, could seek an explanation in personal ambition or treason. The war was begun without the preparation of adequate means; the operations projected were based on miscalculations, political and military; the Generals were selected by favour; and when the collision of Armies took place, the French were outnumbered, out-marched, out-fought, and out-generalled. Bazaine was no more a traitor than Prince Charles of Lorraine in Prague, the King of Saxony in Pirna, or even poor Mack in Ulm. He was a brave soldier, and an excellent corps commander, but he was very far from ranking among those captains, and, according to the first Napoleon, they are few, who have the faculty and knowledge required to command 300,000 men. Upon his subsequent conduct, being beyond its scope, this history has nothing to say; moreover, it would acquire a volume to illuminate that dreadful labyrinth, the “ProcÈs Bazaine.” All we require to note is that, as a result of a series of errors, the whole of which did not fall to the Marshal’s share, one French Army had been routed and driven headlong to Chalons, and another, the larger and better, had been worsted in combat and forced to seek shelter within the fortified area of Metz.

The German leaders forthwith resolved, and acted on the resolve, to take the largest advantage of success. When the broadening day showed that the French were encamped under the guns of the forts, and that they did not betray the faintest symptom of fighting for egress on any side, the place was deliberately invested. On the 18th, the cavalry had cut the telegraph between Metz and Thionville, and partially injured the railway between Thionville and Longuyon; and the French had hardly repaired the wire on the 19th before it was again severed. Soon the blockade was so far completed that only adventurous scouts were able at rare intervals to work their way through the German lines. As early as the forenoon of the 19th, the King had decided to form what came to be called the “Army of the Meuse” out of the Corps which were not needed to uphold the investment of Metz, and thus place himself in a condition to assail the French Army collecting at Chalons. The new organization was composed of the Guard, the 4th and the 12th Corps, and the 5th and 6th Divisions of Cavalry; and this formidable force was put under the command of the Crown Prince of Saxony, who had shown himself to be an able soldier. Consequently, there remained behind to invest Bazaine, seven Corps d’ArmÉe and a Division of Reserved under General von Kummer, which had marched up from Saarlouis, and was then actually before Metz on the right bank of the Moselle east of and below the town. The main strength, six Corps, were posted on the left or western bank, and the supreme command was intrusted to Prince Frederick Charles. Not a moment was lost in distributing the troops so that they could support each other, and in sealing up the avenues of access to the place. A bridge over the Moselle, covered by a tÊte de pont was constructed above and below Metz; defensive positions were selected and intrenched, and throughout the whole circuit, in suitable places, heavy solid works, as well as lighter obstructions, were begun. If the enemy tried to reach Thionville by the left bank he was to find an organized defensive position in his path, and the troops beyond the Moselle were to assail his right flank. If he endeavoured to pass on the other shore, similar means would be applied to bar his way. Field works would arrest his attack, and his left flank in that case would be struck. Egress to the west was to be opposed by abbatis, trenches and other obstacles. Remilly, then the terminus of the railway, and the site of a great magazine, was to be specially guarded; but if any “eccentric” movement were attempted on the eastern area, the Generals were to evade an engagement with superior forces. It is not necessary to enter more minutely into the blockade of Metz, which henceforth becomes subordinate to the main story. We have followed, so far, the fortunes or misfortunes of the Army now surrounded by vigilant, skilful and valiant foes; but the active interest of the campaign lies in other fields, and bears us along to an undreamed-of and astounding end.

The King Marches Westward.

One Army had been literally imprisoned, another remained at large, and behind it were the vast resources of France. Three Marshals were cooped up in the cage on the Moselle; one, MacMahon, and the Emperor were still in the field; and upon the forces with them it was resolved to advance at once, because prudence required that they should be shattered before they could be completely organized, and while the moral effect of the resounding blows struck in Alsace and Lorraine had lost none of its terrible power. Therefore the King and General von Moltke started on the morrow of victory to march on Paris through the plains of Champagne. The newly-constituted Army of the Meuse, on the 20th, was in line between Commercy and Briey, moving towards Verdun on a broad front, with the cavalry so well forward that on the 22nd the Guard Uhlans were over the Meuse. At the same time the Crown Prince of Prussia, who had continued his march from the Meurthe and Upper Moselle, was astride the Meuse between Void and Gondrecourt, with infantry in front at Ligny and a cavalry patrol as far forward as Vitry. His columns had passed by roads south of Toul, from the Moselle valley on to the Ornain, and as Toul refused to surrender when, a little later, it was bombarded by field guns, a small detachment was left to invest it until captured French garrison guns could be hauled up from Marsal. On the 23rd the Meuse Army was up to the right bank of the river, and the whole of the Third had entered the basin of the Ornain. Both Armies advanced the next day further westward and continued the movement on the 25th—a critical day on which they attained positions it becomes necessary to note more minutely. The 12th Corps, having failed on the 24th to carry Verdun by a coup de main, halted at Dombasle on the 25th, with its cavalry at Clermont in Argonne and Sainte-Menehould. The Guard was on the Aisne at Triaucourt, the 4th near by at Laheycourt, the Second Bavarians on their left front, at Possesse, the 5th Corps near Heiltz l’EvÊque, the WÜrtemberg Division at Sermaize on the Ornain, the 11th Corps close to Vitry on the Marne, the 6th Corps at Vassy on the Blaise, and the First Bavarians at Bar le Duc, whither the King had come on the 24th, by way of Commercy, from Pont À Mousson. Thus the whole force was marching direct on Chalons, left in front; that is, the Third Army, as a rule, was a march in advance of the Saxon Crown Prince.

The Cavalry Operations.

During the period occupied in reaching these towns and villages the cavalry had been actively employed scouting far in advance and on the flanks; and what they did forms the most interesting and instructive portion of the story. As early as the 17th a troop of Hussars captured a French courrier at Commercy, and from his despatches learned that the Cavalry of Canrobert’s Corps had been left behind at Chalons, that Paris was being placed in a state of defence, that all men between 25 and 35 had been called under arms, and that a 12th and 13th Corps were to be formed. Another patrol was able to ascertain that at least part of De Failly’s troops had retreated by Charmes, and that other hostile bodies had gone by Vaudemont and Neufchateau; they were hurrying to the railway station at the latter place and at Chaumont. At MÉnil sur Saulx, on the 18th, the indefatigable horsemen seized many letters, and a telegram from M. Chevreau, Minister of the Interior, stating that the Emperor had reached Chalons on the 17th—he really arrived there on the evening of the 16th, having driven from Gravelotte in the morning—and that “considerable forces” were being collected in the famous camp on the dusty and windy plains of Champagne. Thus, day after day, the mounted parties preceded the infantry, spreading far and wide on all sides, so that as early as the 19th some Hussars actually rode within sight of French infantry retreating from St. Dizier, and on the 21st captured men belonging to the 5th Corps near Vitry. The next day the 2nd Cavalry Division rode out from four-and-twenty to six-and-thirty miles, entering, among other places, Chaumont, where, from the station books, they learned that De Failly’s infantry had gone on, three days only before, in twenty trains, while Brahaut’s Cavalry followed the road. On the 23rd the 4th Division of Cavalry had passed St. Dizier and ridden into the villages to the east of Chalons itself. Thence Dragoons were sent forward and these picked up information to the effect that the French Army had quitted the great camp. Reports to this effect had already reached head-quarters, and had moved Von Moltke to tell General von Blumenthal, the Crown Prince’s chief of the staff, that it would be most desirable to have prompt information showing whither the enemy had gone. The 4th Cavalry Division, which, on the 24th, was at Chalons camp, now abandoned, burnt, and desolate, pushed a party towards Reims, and there found that the French Army had departed in an easterly direction. Before this vital information arrived at the great head-quarters the King and Von Moltke had determined that the two Armies should, at least for the time, still move westward on the lines appointed; and on the evening of the 25th, therefore, they occupied the positions already described. But at this moment the Army of MacMahon stood halted at Rhetel, Attigny, and Vouziers, within two marches of the Meuse, between Stenay and Sedan!

In order to learn why they were there we must turn to the camp at Chalons, which had been the scene of dramatic events, fluctuating councils, and fatal decisions, the fitting forerunners of an unparalleled disaster.

The Emperor at Chalons and Reims.

Immediately after the first defeats befell the French Armies on the frontier, General Montauban, Comte de Palikao, summoned by the Empress, found himself abruptly made the head of a Government. He took, of course, the post of Minister of War. The Empress had been Regent from the day when the Emperor quitted Paris, and she exercised, or appeared to do so, a great influence on the course of events. The first act of the new Minister was to collect the materials out of which might be formed a fresh Army, a task in the execution of which he displayed considerable energy. The rapid march of the invader had intercepted, as we have related, one infantry division of Canrobert’s Corps, all his cavalry “except a squadron,” as he pathetically exclaimed, and more than half of his artillery. These remained in the camp of Chalons, and the Army formed was composed of these men, the 12th Corps, one division of which consisted of Marine Infantry; then the 1st and 5th Corps, which had come at racing speed from Alsace; and finally of the 7th from Belfort, which reached Chalons by way of Paris. There were in addition two regiments of Chasseurs d’Afrique, and subsequently a third—Margueritte’s gallant brigade. General Lebrun estimates that the aggregates, including non-combatants, amounted to about 130,000 men. It will be duly noted that this Army came almost from the four winds, driven thither by the terrible pressure of defeat, and that many of the new troops were recruits, without discipline or training. They were collected together on an open plain, and had barely assembled before the vivacious German cavalry were reported to be and, though in small force, were close at hand. When the Emperor arrived on the night of the 16th, by far the greater part of the troops were still distant; some speeding on their way from Chaumont and Joinville, others travelling from Belfort, and some from Cherbourg and Paris. They dropped into the camp in succession after the 17th, and we may note that the 7th Corps never entered Chalons at all, but was sent on to Reims, which it reached on the 21st. Out of this assembly of soldiers Marshal MacMahon had to organize an Army. Moreover, the intendants, charged with the duty of supplying the troops, had only just come up. To increase the confusion many thousand Mobiles, who had been at an early date sent thither from Paris, behaved so badly—some reports of their ape-like tricks are almost incredible—that they were speedily returned to the capital, although the Emperor and Marshal Canrobert, who had commanded them, would have preferred, the former for political reasons, that they should be distributed in the northern garrison towns. Nothing more need be said of the Army of Chalons except that, although it contained some admirable troops, none finer than the Marines, whose only fault was that they could not march, yet that it was unfit to engage in any adventure whatever, especially one so perilous and toilsome as that into which it was soon plunged.

Weary, perturbed, broken in health and spirits, yet outwardly serene, Napoleon III. slept on the night of the 16th in the pavilion of the camp, which he had often visited when it was orderly and brilliant, which he now revisited as a fugitive, passing silently, almost furtively, through its disorder and gloom. With him was Prince Jerome Napoleon, who saw the fortunes of his house, like Balzac’s peau de chagrin, shrinking visibly day by day, and whose fertile mind was alive with expedients to avert the fatal hour. He resented the bigotry of the Empress, who would not surrender Rome as a bribe to the Italian Court; he was pondering over and, indeed, openly suggesting the abdication of the Emperor. Sleeping also in that pavilion was the youth, Louis, who is barely mentioned in the French accounts after the 2nd of August; whose public life began in the tumult of a national catastrophe and ended so tragically among the savage Zulus.

Daylight brought no respite to the Emperor. He saw around him silent and unsympathetic throngs of soldiers bearing the marks of defeat and rout, and it is said that he was even jeered by the Parisian Mobiles, who had previously shouted in the ears of the astonished Canrobert, “À Paris! À Paris!” instead of “À Berlin!”

Then came from the capital General Trochu, who had been appointed to command the newly-formed 12th Corps, and was destined, in case of accident, to succeed MacMahon. In conversing with the Emperor the General developed a plan of action, which astonished yet did not altogether displease his Majesty. Succinctly stated it was this: That the Emperor and the Army should return to Paris, and that General Trochu should be named Governor of the capital. The Emperor, as usual, listened, doubted, demurred, yet did not refuse to contemplate a scheme which promised to place him, once more, at the head of affairs, but he gave no decision. Marshal MacMahon was summoned; he was to command the Army which, according to the plan, was to be organized near Paris; and when consulted he spoke favourably of Trochu as a man and a soldier, and readily accepted the command of the Army. Prince Napoleon, so soon to set out for Florence, if he did not suggest, supported the nomination of Trochu, on the ground that a revolution might break out at any moment in Paris, and that the General was the man to put it down. It was during the prolonged debate on these perplexing questions that some one said—“the Emperor neither commands the Army nor governs the State;” whether the words dropped from the lips of Napoleon III. or his cousin, Marshal MacMahon, who was present, could not remember; but whoever uttered them they were true. There was a subsidiary and much-disputed question—what should be done with the noisy Mobiles, who so eagerly desired to re-enter Paris? In the end it was agreed that, although the Emperor, for political, and MacMahon, for military reasons, desired to give them a taste of much needed discipline in the northern fortresses, these obstreperous battalions should be sent to the capital. Thus it came about that Marshal MacMahon took command of the Army and that Trochu became Governor of Paris. The new Governor, with his letter of nomination in his pocket, set out on his return journey; but while he went slowly by rail, M. Pietri, using the telegraph, informed the Empress of what had been done, and alarmed her and the Minister of War by reporting the intelligence that the Emperor and the Army were to move on the capital. Thereupon, two hours before the luckless Trochu set foot in Paris, Palikao had sent a remonstrance by telegram, dated 10.27 p.m. on the 17th. “The Empress,” he said, “has communicated to me the letter in which the Emperor announces that he wishes to move the Army from Chalons to Paris—I implore the Emperor to give up this idea, which will look like a desertion of the Army of Metz.” If there was a “letter” Napoleon must have written it on the 16th, during his journey, which is not likely; but the document referred to was, no doubt, Pietri’s telegram to the Empress. Some answer must have been sent from the pavilion at Chalons, after Trochu departed, for when he saw M. Chevreau, at midnight, the Minister said promptly—“The Emperor will not return”; and when the General exhibited his proclamation to the Empress, beginning with “Preceded by the Emperor,” she instantly exclaimed, “You cannot state that, because it is not a fact; the Emperor will not come.” Thus the Trochu plan was frustrated; yet the remarkable thing is that the Emperor had not made up his shifting mind; for on the 18th, as Marshal MacMahon affirms, Napoleon intimated his intention to start the next day. Still we find a telegram from him to Palikao, dated the “18th, 9 h. 4 m.,” presumably in the morning, in which he says, “I give in to your opinion,” so that his resolutions fluctuated from hour to hour. A most singular historical figure, at this juncture, is the once-potent Napoleon III. Virtually exiled from his capital, and not permitted, if he wished, to command his troops, he was condemned to “assist,” as the French say, at the capture of armies, the downfall of his dynasty, and the wreck of a nation.

These lugubrious debates, held almost within sight of the battlefield of Valmy, went on from day to day. “What should be done with the Army?” was the question which trod on the heels of “What shall be done with the Emperor?” or rather both were discussed together. On the 18th came a despatch from Bazaine, stating that the Marshal had fought a battle two days before, that he had “held his positions,” yet that he was obliged to fall back nearer to Metz in order that he might replenish his supplies for men and guns. This message had crossed one from MacMahon announcing his appointment, conveying the important information that he was still under the orders of Bazaine, and asking for instructions. The answer came the next evening, and it expressly declared that, being too remote from Chalons, Bazaine left the Marshal free to act as he thought fit. That telegram, it was the last which came direct by wire from Metz, raised the great military question. Palikao had already begun to insist that Metz should be relieved. The Marshal admits that he was undecided for the moment; for if he started for the Meuse Paris would be uncovered, and the sole remaining French Army put in great peril; whereas, if he did not march eastward and Bazaine did march west, then the latter might be lost. In his anguish of mind, not knowing that the wire had been cut, he appealed, by telegram, to Bazaine for his opinion. At the same time, on the 20th, he forwarded a message to Palikao, which stated the case most clearly. His information, and it was in substance correct, led him to believe that the roads through Briey, Verdun, and St. Mihiel were intercepted by the Germans; and he added that his intention was to halt until he learned whether Bazaine had moved by the north or the south—the idea that he might be shut up closely in Metz had not then matured in MacMahon’s mind. In the meantime he saw plainly the dangers to which he was exposed by remaining on the plain of Chalons; and, therefore, on the 21st moved the whole Army to Reims, a long march, which tried the inexperienced troops, and filled the country roads with hundreds of stragglers.

MacMahon Retires to Reims.

That very morning M. Rouher, inspired by a desire to talk with his old master, arrived at Chalons, and proceeded with the soldiers to their new destination. In the evening, at the Imperial quarters, MacMahon was summoned to consider afresh the oft-debated questions of the hour. M. Rouher explained to the Marshal his views, which were, in reality, those of Palikao, for the President of the Senate was oppressed with the feeling that Bazaine must be relieved. But at this moment MacMahon was firmly resolved to march on Paris, and, possessing exact information, he stated his case, on the occasion, with great force and clearness. He was bound to assume, he said, that Bazaine was surrounded in Metz by 200,000 men; that in front of Metz, towards Verdun, stood the Saxon Crown Prince with 80,000 men; that the Prussian Crown Prince was near Vitry at the head of 150,000 men; and consequently that if he risked a march eastward into the midst of these armies, “I should,” he continued, “find myself in a most difficult position, and experience a disaster which I desire to avoid.” A most just estimate, formed on reports which were defective upon one point only—the Prussian Crown Prince was still about Ligny, but his cavalry, as will be remembered, had looked in upon Vitry. Moreover, the Marshal adhered to his opinion that the Army of Chalons should be preserved, because it would furnish the groundwork for an organized force 300,000 strong. M. Rouher, who acquiesced, then suggested that the Emperor should issue a proclamation explaining the reasons why the Army of Chalons moved on Paris; which, being done, Rouher went his way, and MacMahon drew up the order of march towards the capital.

The Chalons Army directed on the Meuse.

The morning of the 22nd was spent in preparation, but, before the final orders were issued, the Emperor received the fatal despatch, dated Ban Saint Martin [Metz], August 19, which Marshal Bazaine had been able to send through the German lines. After a brief description of the battle of Gravelotte, which ended, he said, in a change of front by the 6th and 4th Corps, the right thrown back, to ward off a turning movement, and reporting that he had drawn in the whole Army upon a curved line, from Longeville to Sansonnet, behind the forts, he stated that the troops were wearied by incessant combats, and needed rest for two or three days “The King of Prussia, with M. de Moltke,” he went on “were this morning at Rezonville, and everything goes to show that the Prussian Army is about to feel up to (va tÂter) the fortress of Metz. I count always upon taking a northern direction, and turning, by MontmÉdy, into the road from Sainte-Menehould to Chalons, if it is not too strongly occupied. In the contrary case, I shall continue upon Sedan, and even upon MÉziÈres, to reach Chalons.” The Emperor sent this despatch to MacMahon, who inferred from it that Bazaine was about to start, and that, after crossing the Meuse at Stenay, he should find him in the neighbourhood of MontmÉdy. He, therefore, withheld the orders directing the Army on Paris, and issued those which turned its face to the East. Further, he transmitted a telegram addressed to Bazaine, stating that, in two days, his Army would be on the Aisne, whence, in order to bring succour, he would operate according to circumstances. Soon afterwards a despatch arrived from Palikao, saying that the “gravest consequences” would follow in Paris were no attempt made to help Bazaine; but the Marshal had already taken his decision, though with a dubious mind, because he knew better than the Comte de Palikao, who was extremely ill-informed, what dangers would beset his path, and how slight was the chance that the Army inclosed in Metz would be able to burst through the investing lines. The Emperor remained in a passive condition; he did not approve, he did not oppose; but he shared, as a sort of interested spectator, in a venture determined by the operation of political motives, and devoid of a sound military basis.

For the moment, at least, Marshal MacMahon remained steadfast to his latest resolution; and on the 23rd the French Army moved out from its camp near Reims. It was not directed on the Verdun road, because the Commander-in-chief was well aware that if he was to gain Stenay, that goal could only be attained by evading the Saxon Prince’s Army, which would necessitate a flank march on routes farther north. The first day’s journey was short, for the Army halted on the river Suippe, facing north-east, with a cavalry division in front towards Grand PrÉ. At this early stage provisions were so scarce that Ducrot, commanding the 1st Corps, and Lebrun, who had the 12th, complained to the Marshal, who advised them to do as he did when retreating from Reichshofen—live upon the inhabitants. Yet the stress was severe, the country incapable of furnishing sufficient supplies, and MacMahon, yielding to the pressure, believed that the better course would be to follow the railway. He, therefore, moved next day to Rhetel with the 12th and 5th, while the 1st halted at Juniville, and the 7th near Vouziers, Margueritte’s flanking cavalry remaining hard by on the left bank of the Aisne. A short march on the 25th brought all the Corps astride the river, between Rhetel and Vouziers, with cavalry outposts at Le Chesne and Grand PrÉ. The movement had begun badly; but before following this Army farther on its devious path, we must return to the German head-quarters at Bar le Duc, where, at length, it had become known that the French were not retreating on Paris, but were advancing towards the Meuse!