Chapter IX: Pressed Back on Metz (2)

For some time longer the German right wing did little more than defend its somewhat irregular line of front. The 2nd Corps, which had been marching every day since it quitted the Saar, had attained Rezonville, and King William placed it under the orders of Von Steinmetz. As the minutes flew by, the head-quarter staff on the hill near Malmaison were impressed by a fact and an appearance—the increase of the vivacity and volume of fire towards the north—where the Guard had begun its onset on St. Privat—and the symptoms of wavering which seemed, and only seemed, to be visible on the French left. The King, therefore, sanctioned a fresh and formidable advance upon Frossard’s brigades by all the troops which Von Steinmetz could spare for the enterprise. But the main object of Von Moltke, we infer, was to prevent, by striking hard, the despatch of any assistance to Canrobert, and thus assist, by a resolute advance, upon one wing, the decisive movement then approaching its critical stage on the other. The 2nd Corps was, therefore, brought up to Gravelotte, and all the available troops of the 7th and 8th were held in readiness to assail, once more, the enemies beyond the Mance.

But the French, who, though wearied, were still undaunted, anticipating their foes, became the assailants. Their silent guns spoke out in thunder, the heights were shrouded in a canopy of smoke, and the bolts hurled from the batteries fell like hail on the woods, and sent such an iron shower as far forward as the hill-top where the King and his great men stood, that Von Roon prevailed on the King to ride further back. The lively French skirmishers dashed forth into the open, strove hard to reach St. Hubert, drove the German foreposts headlong down the steeps into the Mance gully, filled the high road with a rushing, clamorous crowd of fugitives, and even caused terror and commotion in the rear of Gravelotte, so vehement and unexpected was the stroke. Fortunately for the Germans, the principal bodies of troops in St. Hubert and the woods were unshaken, and their rapid fire, as well as the responses sent from the artillery, checked the violent outfall. Then, as the sun was getting low, the fresh German brigades struck in. The men of the 7th Corps went down into and over the Mance valley, and stormed up the eastern bank. The 2nd Corps, eager to win, pressed along the highway, with their drums and trumpets sounding the change, or moved on the south side. They passed onward in a tumult, and boldly tried to grapple with the strong lines of the defence. Not only their commander, Fransecky, and Steinmetz, but Von Moltke himself rode into the defile to witness and direct this huge and uproarious column of attack. But neither their numbers, and they were many, nor their valour, which was great, nor the unfaltering devotion of their officers could resist the smashing fire of cannon and mitrailleuse and chassepot which the French brought to bear upon them. Some daring spirits pressed close up towards the ditches and breastworks, a few clung to the banks and bushes on the brow of the slope near Point du Jour. A dense mass collected near St. Hubert, where Fransecky and Steinmetz, in the thick of the throng, saw the bands who had hurried to the front break off, turn and hasten rearward, while fresh troops still pressed upward through the confused crowds of fugitives. So for some time, in the twilight, the strange fight went on. As it grew darker, the outlines of Lebœuf’s cleverly-designed shelter trenches near the Moscow farm were drawn in lines of musketry fire, and gradually nothing, save the flashes of guns and rifles, could be seen in the gloom. At length, when friend could not be distinguished from foe, when no breach could be made in the French line, which, except the outpost of St. Hubert, remained what it had been in the morning, the Generals placed strong guards on their front, and stood prepared to renew the battle with the dawn. General Frossard, who had engaged all his reserves, was proud of his achievement, and not less of the foresight he displayed in providing artificial cover for his men. That had made the position, from the Great Quarries to the farm and copse of La Folie, impregnable, and renders it all the more difficult to comprehend how Marshal Bazaine could have shown such manifest distrust of the fastness which protected his left wing. The attack on St. Ruffine by Von Golz was merely a diversion shrewdly designed to increase the Marshal’s alarms, and its relative success shows how correctly Von Moltke estimated his adversary’s abilities as a soldier. He reaped an ample reward, since long before the last shot was fired in the neighbourhood of St. Hubert, the French had been worsted at the other and distant extremity of the vast field of battle.

_The Prussian Guard on the Centre and Left._

It may be said, indeed, that not one, but several battles were fought on the 18th of August, in the long space between the Bois de Vaux and the Forest of Moyœuvre. They were inter-dependent, because one mass of combatants held fast another, and the essence of the German plan was that three-fourths of the French Army should be nailed to the positions they had taken up, while the remainder were crushed by the pressure of superior forces. The original design of Von Moltke was framed on the supposition that the French right stood near Amanvillers, and that he would be able to fling upon an exposed flank two Corps d’Armée. Before the error was discovered, several hours had been consumed; the Guard had been obliged to prolong the front fighting line; only a part of the Saxon Corps could be spared to engage in the turning movement, and the ground which they had to traverse grew longer and longer as the day waxed shorter. The extent of country over which the various armies operated, and the smoke which obscured the view, prevented a correct appreciation of the situation of affairs at a given moment, and the German commanders were liable to be deceived, and were deceived by appearances. The knowledge that so brief an interval of daylight remained, and an anxiety to make the most of precious moments, quickened the tendency to decisive action, and thus brought about the rash and premature attack which was so destructive, and nearly proved so fatal to the Prussian Guard.

Their magnificent divisions of Infantry, it will be remembered, stood between St. Ail and St. Marie, except one brigade which had been annexed to the 9th Corps. It was intended that they should remain quiescent until the Saxon column broke out upon the French right in the direction of Roncourt, and for a brief interval of time, after five o’clock, the action in the centre as well as on the left was confined to a deliberate cannonade. Prince Augustus of Würtemberg, who was then near St. Ail gazing alternatively on the ebb and flow of Manstein’s battle in the Bois de la Cusse and towards the Bois de Genivaux, and on the aspect of the field about St. Privat, thought he saw French troops moving south from Roncourt. Combining this impression with the fact that, as we have already stated, a long line of Saxon guns had been arrayed due north of St. Marie, he rapidly formed the opinion that the turning column was on the point of striking the enemy, and that the moment had come when the Guard should be employed. He was also somewhat affected by the condition of the combat in the centre, and, perhaps, as much by the waning day which left so narrow a margin of time for decisive activity. He appealed to Prince Frederick Charles and easily converted the Commander-in-Chief of the Second Army to his views. So the order went forth that the Guard should attack, and having set Budritzki’s division in motion from St. Ail, Prince Augustus rode to St. Marie. There General von Pape revealed to him his misconception—the turning column was not even then in sight, and unless preceded by bombardment from all the batteries, a front attack on St. Privat, Pape said, would have but a slight chance of success. Why, then, was it delivered? Because the other division of the Guard was actually at that moment under fire and losing men by scores on the open slope. It was a bitter moment for Prince Augustus, whose error was to cost the Guard losses which are counted by thousands. Moreover, General Manstein, seeing Budritzki in motion, and De Cissey, whose division formed De Ladmirault’s right, wheeling up diagonally on the flanks of the new foe, determined to despatch his Brigade of Guards, the 3rd, straight upon Amanvillers, to resume the offensive with his Hessians, and support, by all the means he possessed, the daring onset initiated on his immediate left. Practically, therefore, although other troops were engaged at different points on the front of the 9th Corps, the battle on the northern half of the field was thenceforth fought out by the Saxons and the Guard.

The character of the unequal combat was the same from end to end of the line—superb, because it proved the steadfast valour of Prussia’s chosen infantry; awful, because the bare fields in the track of the onslaught were soon literally strewed with thousands of dead and wounded. The charge of the 3rd Brigade towards Amanvillers was pushed with such unwavering velocity that, although the ranks were thinned at every stride, the hardy survivors, spread out in skirmishing order, carried their front to the brow of a hill within half a mile of Amanvillers. There they were stopped by the fire which smote them in front and flank. Yet there they stayed undaunted, and maintained a steady contest with antagonists who, if they tried to dash forward, could not reach the unyielding line of the 3rd Brigade. On their left the Hessians moved up on both sides of the railroad cutting, and finally captured a house built for the watchman at a level crossing. Comrades of the 9th Corps, from the Bois de la Cusse, soldiers who had been toiling for many hours, essayed to reach the Guard, but they had not strength enough left, and retired when they suddenly discerned, above Amanvillers, two regiments of Grenadiers—it was Bourbaki who had led Picard’s battalions on to the plateau, but who, distrusting appearances visible about and beyond St. Privat, feared to plunge into the fight at Amanvillers. Looking out from his hill, Bourbaki may have seen the devoted march of Budritzki’s troops up the gentle slope in front of St. Ail; for these, what was left of them, were closing on the spur which lies south-west of St. Privat, and stretching out as far as the high road to St. Marie, a long dark streak of fire and smoke and the broad fields behind them black with the dying and dead. For the constant Guards, undismayed, the remnant of a splendid division, not only persevered and won the little rounded hill, but rooted themselves under its shelving terraces, while the left companies, next the high road, found shelter in its ditches. They had suffered most when beyond the effective range of the needle-gun, in the belt where the chassepot had rained balls as thick as hail. They could now retort the fire, and at least keep their opponents at bay. These battalions, like those of the 3rd Brigade, had dared all the deadly perils of the open ground; they had bought a relative success at a heavy price, and were resolved to retain what they had won, their line of fire extending from the high road to the rounded eminence, or long hillock, south-west of Jerusalem. Three batteries had driven up to aid the infantry; the main body of the Guard Artillery had advanced eastward; and the Hessians and 3rd Brigade prolonged the front of combat to the south.

During part of the period thus occupied General Pape, holding one brigade in reserve at St. Marie, attacked with the other on the north of the high road. Starting at a quarter to six o’clock, this body of Guardsmen crossed the road facing north, and then wheeling in succession to the right, went obstinately forward. The French fire, from the outset, was close and deadly; officers of all ranks fell fast; companies were reduced to straggling groups or scattered files; the whole line was soon dispersed here and there; but they still pressed on. One moiety trended to the right another to the left, and General von Pape, watchful, active, and fortunate, for he was not hit, led fresh battalions to fill up the gaping intervals. Soon after the foremost bands had got within seven hundred yards of St. Privat, where, in places, at least, the slope afforded shelter, the reinforcements arrived; and it may be said that thenceforth a continuous, yet thin line, curved inwards at the northern end, and fringed with smoke and fire, stretched irregularly over the vast glacis-like declivities from opposite Amanvillers to the outskirts of Roncourt, where the Saxons prolonged the ragged and shapeless, but redoubtable array. Against this mere thread of riflemen, not even when they were weakest, the French directed no bold attack, perhaps because they had no reserves and stood in respectful awe of the hostile artillery which drew nearer and nearer as the evening wore on, until the black batteries formed a second line to the intrepid infantry.

It was about seven o’clock. St. Privat was in flames, the black and tawny smoke of the burning village, boiling upwards, stood out against the obscured sky in strong contrast to the swelling clouds of white vapour, through which leaped incessant sparkles from hundreds of rifles, and the broader flashes of the cannon. At no preceding period of this dreadful day had the battle raged with such intensity; for now along the whole front of eight miles there was a deafening roar and crash and tumult, and a murky atmosphere concealing the ghastly sights which make these fields of carnage so appalling to the lively imagination, which seeks in vain to realize its multitude and variety of horror. Yet there was an element of grandeur and sublimity in the exhibition of courage, constancy and fortitude upon such a stupendous scale. “It is a good thing that war is so terrible,” said General Robert Lee, “otherwise we should become too fond of it.” Here, among these woods and villages of Lorraine, war showed in abundance its attractive and repulsive forms.

_The Capture of St. Privat._

Marshal Canrobert had discerned the approaching Saxons, who were now marching from the north upon Roncourt, Montois, and Malancourt. He felt that his right had been turned, and looked in vain for the expected succour. Bazaine, he says, had promised to send a division of the Guard. Bourbaki, astounded by the spectacle which met his eyes, when he emerged from the wooded defiles west of Saulny, had, as we have seen, allowed himself to be attracted, for a moment, towards De Ladmirault, had then retraced his steps, and had taken a position to cover the high road to Woippy, the so-called northern road from Metz which goes to Briey. He had with him, according to his own statement, three or four thousand Grenadiers and some artillery; but he did not arrive in time to frustrate the Saxons and Prussian Guards. The Marshal, a little after seven, or even before, felt that he could not stand. He complains of failing ammunition, declares that the German artillery had obtained a complete mastery over his guns, and that his flank was turned. “At this moment,” he says in his own picturesque fashion, “a valiant officer, who has since been killed before Paris, and who was called Péchot, arrived at St. Privat [from Roncourt] with the 9th battalion of Chasseurs, the 6th and 12th of the Line. He dashed forward to stop the enemy; but, as the enemy flung at us masses of iron, and did not come himself, as it was shells which came instead, we could not hold on. Péchot warned me, and we were obliged to retire. We did so by moving in echelon from the centre, and, in good order, I emphasize the phrase, we gained the heights beside the wood of Saulny.” The German Staff acknowledge that the rearward movement was admirably done; but the succinct narrative vouchsafed by the Marshal to the Court which tried Bazaine, gives only a vague glimpse of the closing scene.

When the “valiant Péchot” retired from Roncourt before the Saxon inroad, he skilfully put his brigade into the forest of Jaumont, on the right rear of the original line. Colonel Montluisant, the gallant artilleryman, having received a welcome supply of ammunition, sent up from St. Quentin by the order of Bazaine, posting his batteries in lines one above the other on the terraces near the wood of Saulny, opened a sustained fire to cover the retreat. Bourbaki, although Canrobert did not know it at the time, such was the confusion and so thick was the air, had moved his batteries and Grenadiers near enough at dusk to bring both musketry and cannon-shot to bear upon the Germans. In St. Privat, glowing like a furnace, and as the darkness became deeper, shedding a wild light upon the scene, there were still stout and obstinate soldiers who either would not, or could not, follow the retiring brigades. Upon these devoted troops, as the sun went down behind the dark border of woods beyond the valley of the Orne, the much-tried Prussian Guards and the leg-weary Saxons threw themselves with all their remaining vigour; and in rear of them, yet far down the slope, stepped one Division of the 10th Corps. The guns reinforced had again been dragged forward, some overwhelming St. Privat, others pounding Montluisant, or facing south-east, and smiting the French about Amanvillers. Then, with loud hurrahs, the assailants broke into St. Privat, pursued the defenders amid the burning houses, captured two thousand prisoners, who were unable to escape from the buildings, and developed their lines in the twilight on the plateau beyond. The capture of St. Privat enabled the German artillery to press on once more, each battery striving to gain the foremost place. For Canrobert’s retreat exposed the right flank of De Ladmirault’s Corps, and, under a scathing fire, he was obliged to throw it back, protected by Bourbaki on the hill, and supported by a brigade promptly despatched towards that side by Lebœuf, who, all through the eddying fight, showed a fine tactical sense and great decision. How far the Germans were able to push their advantage it is difficult to say, since General Gondrecourt, who was near the place, maintains that some of De Ladmirault’s soldiers remained through the night in Amanvillers; whereas the Germans assert that they broke into part of the village. Be that as it may, Montigny la Grange, La Folie, and the posts thence to Point du Jour, for certain, were held by the French until the morning. Marshal Lebœuf has stated that he summoned his Generals in the evening, and said to them: “The two Corps on our right, crushed by superior forces, have been obliged to retire. We have behind us,” he added, “one of the defiles through which they (‘cette troupe’) may retreat. If we give back a step the Army is lost. The position, doubtless, is difficult, but we will remain.” He declares that the attack continued until midnight, and that not one of his men budged a foot, which is true; but Canrobert’s men did fly in disorder to Woippy, and De Ladmirault confessed that there was “some disorder” in his Corps, and that what remained of them in the wood of Saulny stood to their arms all night. The General states his case in an extraordinary manner. “Night,” he says, “surprised us in this situation, having gained the battle, but not having been able to maintain our positions.” What he meant to assert was that he, De Ladmirault had won the battle, but that the defeat of Canrobert had obliged him to retire. The truth was that some troops remained in Montigny la Grange, but that the rest, or nearly all of them, where huddled together in the wood of Saulny, whence they retreated at dawn.

During the night each Corps commander received from Marshal Bazaine an order to occupy certain positions under the guns of Metz. Canrobert, De Ladmirault, and the Guard, marched in the night, or very early in the morning, to the places assigned them; Lebœuf began his movement at dawn, but Frossard kept outposts on his front line long after daylight. During the forenoon, however, the Army of the Rhine had gained the shelter of a fortified town, which they were not able to quit until they marched off to Germany as prisoners of war.

The effective strength of the German Armies present on the field of Gravelotte was 203,402 men, and 726 guns; it would not be easy to calculate how many were actually engaged in the fight, but the forces held in reserve were considerable. The number on the French side has been put as low as 120,000, and as high as 150,000 men, and probably about 530 guns. The loss of the Germans in killed and wounded was 20,159, and 493 missing. The French loss is set down at 7,853 killed and wounded and 4,419 prisoners, many of whom were wounded men. The disproportion is tremendous, and shows once again that, armed with the breechloader, the defender is able to kill and injure nearly two to one. There were killed or mortally wounded in the German ranks no fewer than 5,237 officers and men, while the aggregate for the French is only 1,144. The loss of officers and men in the Prussian Guards, nearly all inflicted in half an hour before St. Privat, reached the dreadful total of 2,440 killed or mortally injured, and of wounded 5,511!