The Invasion of 1910

    Lieutenant-General.

Norwich, September 7th, 1910.

there which had been hastily destroyed, and which they repaired with planks and other materials they brought along with them. They lost a large number of men in the process, but they persevered, and by ten o’clock were in complete possession of Howe Street, Langley’s Park, and Great Waltham, and moving in fighting formation against Pleshy Mount and Rolphy Green, their guns covering their advance with a perfectly awful discharge of shrapnel. Our cannon on the ridge at Partridge Green took the attackers in flank, and for a time checked their advance, but, drawing upon themselves the attention of the German artillery, on the south end of the knoll, were all but silenced.

“As soon as this was effected another strong column of Germans followed in the footsteps of the first, and deploying to the left, secured the bridge at Little Waltham, and advanced against the gun positions on Partridge Green. This move turned all our river bank entrenchments right down to Chelmsford. Their defenders were now treated to the enfilade fire of a number of Hanoverian batteries that galloped down to Little Waltham. They stuck to their trenches gallantly, but presently when the enemy obtained a footing on Partridge Green they were taken in reverse, and compelled to fall back, suffering terrible losses as they did so. The whole of the infantry of the Xth Corps, supported – as we understand – by a division which had joined them from Maldon, now moved down on Chelmsford. In fact, there was a general advance of the three combined armies stretching from Partridge Green on the west to the railway line on the east. The defenders of the trenches facing east were hastily withdrawn, and thrown back on Writtle. The Germans followed closely with both infantry and guns, though they were for a time checked near Scot’s Green by a dashing charge of our cavalry brigade, consisting of the 16th Lancers and the 7th, 14th, and 20th Hussars, and the Essex and Middlesex Yeomanry. We saw nothing of their cavalry, for a reason that will be apparent later. By one o’clock fierce fighting was going on all round the town, the German hordes enveloping it on all sides but one. We had lost a great number of our guns, or at anyrate had been cut off from them by the German successes around Pleshy Mount, and in all their assaults on the town they had been careful to keep out of effective range of the heavy batteries on Danbury Hill. These, by the way, had their own work cut out for them, as the Saxon artillery were heavily bombarding the hill with their howitzers. The British forces were in a critical situation. Reinforcements – such as could be spared – were hurried up from the Vth Army Corps, but they were not very many in numbers, as it was necessary to provide against an attack by the Saxon Corps. By three o’clock the greater part of the town was in the hands of the Germans, despite the gallant way in which our men fought them from street to street, and house to house. A dozen fires were spreading in every direction, and fierce fighting was going on at Writtle. The overpowering numbers of the Germans, combined with their better organisation, and the number of properly trained officers at their disposal, bore the British mixed Regular and Irregular forces back, and back again.

“Fearful of being cut off from his line of retreat, General Blennerhasset, on hearing from Writtle soon after three that the Hanoverians were pressing his left very hard, and endeavouring to work round it, reluctantly gave orders for the troops in Chelmsford to fall back on Widford and Moulsham. There was a lull in the fighting for about half an hour, though firing was going on both at Writtle and Danbury. Soon after four a terrible rumour spread consternation on every side. According to this, an enormous force of cavalry and motor infantry was about to attack us in the rear. What had actually happened was not quite so bad as this, but quite bad enough. It seems, according to our latest information, that almost the whole of the cavalry belonging to the three German Army Corps with whom we were engaged – something like a dozen regiments, with a proportion of horse artillery and all available motorists, having with them several of the new armoured motors carrying light, quick-firing and machine guns – had been massed during the last thirty-six hours behind the Saxon lines extending from Maldon to the River Crouch. During the day they had worked round to the southward, and at the time the rumour reached us were actually attacking Billericay, which was held by a portion of the reserves of our Vth Corps. By the time this news was confirmed the Germans were assaulting Great Baddow, and moving on Danbury from east, north, and west, at the same time resuming the offensive all along the line. The troops at Danbury must be withdrawn, or they would be isolated. This difficult manœuvre was executed by way of West Hanningfield. The rest of the Vth Corps conformed to the movement, the Guards Brigade at East Hanningfield forming the rearguard, and fighting fiercely all night through with the Saxon troops, who moved out on the left flank of our retreat. The wreck of the Ist Corps and the Colchester Garrison was now also in full retirement. Ten miles lay between it and the lines at Brentwood, and had the Germans been able to employ cavalry in pursuit, this retreat would have been even more like a rout than it was. Luckily for us the Billericay troops mauled the German cavalry pretty severely, and they were beset in the close country in that neighbourhood by Volunteers, motorists and every one that the officer commanding at Brentwood could get together in this emergency.

“Some of them actually got upon our line of retreat, but were driven off by our advance guard; others came across the head of the retiring Vth Corps, but the terrain was all against cavalry, and after nightfall most of them had lost their way in the maze of lanes and hedgerows that covered the countryside. Had it not been for this we should probably have been absolutely smashed. As it was, rather more than half our original numbers of men and guns crawled into Brentwood in the early morning, worn out and dead-beat.”

CHAPTER XVII

IN THE ENEMY’S HANDS

We must now turn to the position of Sheffield on Saturday, September 8. It was truly critical.

It was known that Lincoln had been occupied without opposition by General Graf Haesler, who was in command of the VIIIth Corps, which had landed at New Holland and Grimsby. The enemy’s headquarters had been established in the old cathedral city, and it was reported in Sheffield that the whole of this force was on the move westward. In fact, on Saturday afternoon the head of the advance-guard coming by way of Saxilby and Tuxford had arrived at East Retford, and during the night the rest of the main body, following closely on its heels, disposed itself for bivouac in rear of that sloping ground which reaches from Clarborough, through Grove and Askham, to Tuxford, on the south.

In advance was Major-General von Briefen’s splendid cavalry brigade, who, during the march, had scoured the county almost as far west as the River Rother itself. Chesterfield, with its crooked spire, had been approached by the 7th Westphalian Dragoons, supported by the Grand Duke of Baden’s Hussars and a company of smart motor infantry. Finding, however, that no resistance was offered, they had extended, forming a screen from that place to Worksop, examining and reconnoitring every road, farmstead, and hamlet, in order that the advance of the main body behind them could not be interfered with.

The cavalry brigade of the other division, the Cuirassiers of the Rhine No. 8, and the 7th Rhine Hussars, scouted along to the northward as far as Bawtry, where they were able to effect a junction with their comrades of the VIIth Corps, who, it will be remembered, had landed at Goole, and had now pushed on.

During Saturday afternoon a squadron of British Yeomanry had been pushed out from Rotherham as far as the high ground at Maltby, and hearing from the contact patrols that nothing appeared to be in front of them, moved on to Tickhill, a small village four miles west of Bawtry. Unknown to them, however, a force of Westphalian Dragoons, having had information of their presence, crept up by the lower road through Blythe and Oldcoats, effectively taking them in rear, passing as they did through the grounds of Sandbeck Hall.

The Yeomanry, at the alarm, pulled up, and, dismounting under cover, poured in a rattling volley upon the invaders, emptying more than one Westphalian saddle. Next instant the Germans, making a dash, got between them and their line of retreat on Maltby. It was palpable to the officer in charge of the Yeomanry that he must get back to Sheffield some other way. It would not do to stay and fight where he was, as there was every prospect of his small troop being annihilated, nor did he desire himself to be taken prisoner. His business was to report what he had seen. This latter he was bound to accomplish at all risks. So, hastily leaping into his saddle in the middle of a perfect hail of bullets – the result of which was that several horses went down and left their riders at the mercy of the invaders – the little band set off to regain their camp outside Rotherham, by the cross-country roads through Stainton and Braithwell. Here again they narrowly escaped falling into the hands of some cavalry, who evidently belonged to the VIIth Corps, and who had come down from the direction of Goole and Doncaster.

Eventually, however, they crossed the River Don at Aldwark, and brought in the first definite news which General Sir George Woolmer at Sheffield had yet received. It was thus proved that the German cavalry were now within the sphere of operations, and that in all probability they formed a screen covering the advance of the two great German corps, which it was quite certain now intended to make an attack upon the position he had selected for defence.

Night fell. On every road British yeomanry, cavalry, motor-cyclists, motor-infantry, and independent groups of infantry were endeavouring to penetrate the secret of the exact whereabouts of the enemy. Yet they found every road, lane, and pathway, no matter how carefully approached, held by Germans. Ever and anon, as they crept near the line of German outposts, came the low, guttural demand as sentries challenged the intruder.

Here and there in the hot night shots rang out, and some daring spirit fell dead, while more than once a dying scream was heard as a German bayonet ended the career of some too inquisitive patriot.

Away in Sheffield the town awaited, in breathless tension and hot unrest, what was felt by everyone to be the coming onslaught. Through the night the heavy clouds that had gathered after sunset culminated in a terrific thunderstorm. The heavens seemed rent asunder by the vivid lightning, the thunder crashed and rolled, and rain fell in torrents upon the excited populace, who, through the dark hours, crowded around the barricades in the Sheffield streets. In the murky dawn, grey and dismal, portentous events were impending.

Information from the enemy’s camp – which was subsequently made public – showed that well before daylight the advance of the VIIth German Corps had begun from Doncaster, while along the main road through Warmsworth and Conisborough sturdily tramped the 13th Division, all Westphalians, formed into three infantry brigades and commanded by Lieut. – General Doppschutz. The 14th Division, under Lieut. – General von Kehler, moving through Balby and Wadworth, prolonged the flank to the south. The advance of both divisions was thus steadily continued south-westward parallel to the River Rother, which lay between themselves and the British. It was therefore plain that the plan of the senior officer – General Baron von Bistram, commanding the VIIth Corps – was that the attack should be carried out mainly by that corps itself, and that strong support should be given to it by the VIIIth Corps, which was coming, as has already been shown, from East Retford, and which could effectively assist either to strike the final blow against our Army, or, keeping well to the south, could threaten Sheffield from the direction of Staveley.

No one knew what resistance the British were prepared to offer. Full of courage and patriotism, they were dominated by the proud traditions of English soldiers; still, it was to be remembered that they consisted mainly of raw levies, and that they were opposed by a force whose training and equipment were unequalled in the world, and who outnumbered them in proportion of about four to one.

What was to be expected? Sheffield knew this – and was breathless and terrified.

The great thunderstorm of the night helped to swell the Rivers Don and Rother, and as the invaders would have to cross them, doubtless under a terrific fire, the battle must result in enormous casualties.

Early on Sunday morning it was evident that the all-important blow, so long threatened, was about to be struck. During the night great masses of German artillery had been pushed up to the front, and these now occupied most of the dominating hills, commanding not only all approaches to the British position over the River Rother, but they were even within effective range of the key of the British position itself.

Hundreds of guns – many of them coming under the head of siege-artillery – were concentrated a little to the east of Whiston, whence they were able to pour in an oblique fire upon the defences. This artillery belonged evidently to the VIIth German Corps, and had, with great labour and difficulty, been hauled by all available horses, and even by traction-engines, right across the country to where they were now placed. The heaviest metal of all had been posted on Bricks Hill, an eminence of some four hundred feet, immediately above the Rother, and about six thousand yards from Catcliffe, already referred to as the key of our defences.

Suddenly, at sunrise, a low boom was heard from this point. This was the opening German gun of the artillery preparation for the attack, which was now evidently developing, and although the distance was nearly six thousand yards, yet the bursts of the huge shells were seen to have been well timed. Another and another followed, and presently these huge projectiles, hurtling through the air and bursting with a greenish-yellow smoke, showed that they were charged with some high explosive. No sooner had this terrific tornado of destruction opened in real earnest from the enemy, than the field artillery, massed as has already been described, commenced their long-distance fire at a range of about three thousand five hundred yards, and for a period, that seemed hours, but yet was in reality only about fifty minutes, the awful cannonade continued.

The British guns had already come into action, and intermittent firing of shrapnel and other projectiles was now directed against the German batteries.

These latter, however, were mostly carefully concealed, effective cover having, by means of hard spade-work, been thrown up during the night. The British guns were mostly served by Volunteers and Militia-Artillerymen, who, although burning with patriotism, were – owing to the little real practice they had had in actually firing live shell, having mostly been drilled with dummy guns – utterly incompetent to make any impression upon the enemy’s lines of concealed artillery.

It was plain, then, that the Germans had adopted the principle of massing the bulk of the guns of their two divisions of the VIIth Corps at such a point that they might strike the heaviest blow possible at the defence, under cover of which, when resistance had been somewhat beaten down, the infantry might advance to the attack. This was now being done. But away to the south was heard the distant roar of other artillery, no doubt that of Haesler’s Corps, which had apparently crossed the river somewhere in the neighbourhood of Renishaw, and advancing via Eckington had established themselves on the high ground, about five hundred and twenty feet in altitude, just north of Ridgeway, whence they were able to pour in an enfilading fire all along the British position from its centre at Woodhouse almost to Catcliffe itself. This rendered our position serious, and although the German guns had opposed to them the southernmost flank from Woodhouse to Norton Woodseats, yet it was plain that the main portion of the British defence was in process of being “turned.”

The heavy firing continued, and at last, under cover of it, the rear attack now began some two hours after the opening of the fight.

The 13th Division, under Doppschutz, were evidently advancing by the main Doncaster road. Their advance guard, which had already occupied Rotherham, had also seized the bridge which the invaders had neither time nor material to demolish, and now swept on across it, although exposed to a heavy onslaught from that line of the British position between Tinsley and Brinsworth. Those sturdy, stolid Westphalians and bearded men of Lorraine still kept on. Numbers dropped, and the bridge was quickly strewn with dead and dying. Yet nothing checked the steady advance of that irresistible wave of humanity.

Down the River Rother, at Kanklow Bridge, a similar scene was being enacted. The railway bridge at Catcliffe was also taken by storm, and at Woodhouse Mill the 14th Division, under Von Kehler, made a terrific and successful dash, as they also did at Beighton.

The river itself was about an average distance of a mile in front of the British position, and although as heavy a fire as possible was directed upon all approaches to it, yet the Germans were not to be denied. Utterly indifferent to any losses, they still swept on in an overwhelming tide, leaving at the most not more than ten per cent. of casualties to be dealt with by the perfectly equipped ambulances in their rear. So, for the most part, the various regiments constituting the divisions of the two German commanders found themselves shaken, but by no means thwarted. On the west bank of the river, the steep slopes rising from Beighton to Woodhouse gave a certain amount of dead ground, under cover of which the foreign legions took refuge, in order to dispose themselves for the final assault.

A similar state of things had taken place to the south. General Graf Haesler had flung both his divisions across the river, with but little opposition. The 15th, composed mainly of men of the Rhine, under Von Kluser, crossed at Killamarsh and Metherthorpe Station, while the 16th, under Lieut. – General Stolz, crossed at Renishaw, and, striking north-easterly in the direction of Ridgeway, closed in as they advanced, till at length they were enabled to be within effective reach of their comrades on the right.

The German attack had now developed into an almost crescent-shaped formation, and about noon Von Bistram, the commander-in-chief, issued his final orders for the assault.

The cavalry of the VIIth German Corps under Major-General von Landsberg, commanding the 13th Cavalry Brigade, and the 14th Cavalry Brigade, consisting of Westphalian Hussars and Uhlans, under Major-General von Weder, were massed in the neighbourhood of Greasborough, whence it might be expected that at the critical stage of the engagement if the British defences gave way they might be launched upon the retiring Englishmen. Similarly in the valley over by Middle Handley, a little south of Eckington, were found the 15th and 16th Cavalry Brigades of the VIIIth Corps, consisting of the 15th of Cuirassiers and Hussars of the Rhine, and the 16th of Westphalians, and the Grand Duke of Baden’s Hussars, under that well-known soldier, Major-General von Briefen. All these were equally ready to advance in a northerly direction to strike the crushing blow at the first of the many important cities which was their objective.

Unless the scheme of von Bistram, the German generalissimo in the North, was ill-conceived, then it was plain, even to the defenders, that Sheffield must eventually give way before the overpowering force opposed to it.

Within the city of Sheffield the excitement now rose to fever-heat.

It was known that the enemy had closed in upon the defences, and were now across the river, ready at any moment to continue their advance, which, as a matter of fact, had developed steadily without intermission, notwithstanding the heroic efforts of the defenders.

In these days of smokeless powder it was hard for the Germans to see where the British lines of defence were actually located, but the heavy pounding of the artillery duel, which had been going on since early morning, was now beginning to weaken as the German infantry, company by company, regiment by regiment, and brigade by brigade, were calmly launched to the attack. They were themselves masking the fire of the cannon of their own comrades as, by desperate rushes, they gradually ascended the slopes before them.

The objective of the VIIth Corps seemed to be the strongpoint which has already been referred to as dominating the position a little west of Catcliffe, and the VIIIth Corps were clearly directing their energies on the salient angle of the defence which was to be found a little south of Woodhouse. From this latter point the general line of the British position from Woodhouse north to Tinsley would then be turned.

The British stood their ground with the fearless valour of Englishmen. Though effective defence seemed from the very first futile, steady and unshaken volleys rang out from every knoll, hillock, and shelter-trench in that long line manned by the sturdy Yorkshire heroes. Machine-guns rattled and spat fire, and pom-poms worked with regularity, hurling their little shells in a ceaseless stream into the invaders, but all, alas! to no purpose. Where one German fell, at least three appeared to take his place. The enemy seemed to rise from the very ground. The more stubborn the defence, the more numerous the Germans seemed to become, gaps in their fighting line being reinforced in that ruthless manner which is such a well-known principle in German tactics – namely, that the commander must not be sparing in his men, but fling forward reinforcements at whatever cost.

Thus up the storm-swept glacis reaching from the Rother struggled thousands of Germans in a tide that could not be stemmed, halting and firing as they advanced, until it became clear that an actual hand-to-hand combat was imminent.

The British had done all that men could. There was no question of surrender. They were simply swept away as straws before a storm. Dead and dying were on every hand, ambulances were full, and groaning men were being carried by hundreds to the rear. General Woolmer saw that the day was lost, and at last, with choking emotion, he was compelled to give that order which no officer can ever give unless to save useless bloodshed – “Retire! – Retire upon Sheffield itself!”

Bugles rang out, and the whistles of the officers pierced the air. Then in as orderly a manner as was possible in the circumstances, and amid the victorious shouts from thousands of German throats, the struggling units fell back upon the city.

The outlook was surely black enough. Worse was, however, yet to follow. In the line of retreat all roads were blocked with endless masses of wagons and ambulances, and in order to fall back at all men had to take to the open fields and clamber over hedges, so that all semblance of order was very quickly lost.

Thus the retreat became little short of a rout.

Presently a shout rang out. “The cavalry! The cavalry!”

And then was seen a swarm of big Uhlans riding down from the north at a hand-gallop, evidently prepared to cut off the routed army.

By Tinsley Park a body of Volunteers were retreating in an orderly manner, when the alarm of the cavalry advance reached their ears. Their colonel, a red-faced, bearded old gentleman, wearing the green ribbon of the V.D., and who in private life was a brewery’s manager at Tadcaster, rose in his stirrups and, turning round towards the croup of his somewhat weedy steed, ejaculated the words in a hoarse and raucous bellow: “Soaky Poo!”

His men wondered what he meant. Some halted, believing it to be a new order which demanded further attention, until a smart young subaltern, smiling behind his hand, shouted out, “Sauve qui peut – Every man for himself!”