Chapter III: Part 3

After a couple of hours we all went on again slowly as before, but electric and other lights were flashing about all night, so that we were very excited, and made sure that something was in the wind. As a consequence, long before daylight on the fourth morning we were on deck looking out in all directions, and with a good head of steam so as to get out of the way in case of accidents. Sure enough at daybreak there was a great bank of smoke to the northward, and presently I could make out a mast or two sticking up. The two German cruisers, which were five or six miles in front, at once became very busy with their signals, and soon afterwards the whole fleet formed into a single line and turned to the westward, not steaming any faster, but making such clouds of black smoke that they almost hid themselves from me. It did not seem that the Russian Fleet—I was not sure whether it was or not—was closing much, but one or two ships appeared to draw more in front as if to close the two German cruisers. Presently the other cruisers that had kept closer to the fleet also drew out in front, but none of them seemed more inclined to close the strangers than the strangers were to close them.

I could not make it out at all. I had always understood that in a modern naval battle, everybody would immediately run at everybody else, and this looked so little like the sort of thing that I was inclined to think that what I saw was only an advance guard of the Russian Fleet. Yet it looked too large a mass for that, and my doubts were presently set at rest.

Signals were made to one of the German cruisers that had come to us the day before, and she presently turned and slowly steamed to the southward. She passed us so very close that I took heart of grace to call out—

‘Is that the Russian Fleet?’

And the answer came back—

‘Oh! ye-es, zat is ze Russians—ve sall fight zem! So!’ and the steamer went on her way.

I began to have some sort of an idea that, perhaps, neither fleet was able to make out the force of the other, and was, therefore, not in a hurry to bring it to action. And this might easily be so. Though the sky was clear overhead and the water quite smooth, it was misty round the horizon, and so far as the Russian Fleet was concerned, it seemed to me very likely that even the advanced German cruisers were not able to discover more than I could, between the mist and the smoke.

But as I puzzled myself over this, I also thought that, perhaps, as the main attack of Germany was going on by land, it might be her game merely to watch the Russian Fleet. For if the Germans were badly beaten at sea, Russia might be left free to land and cut their communications. I had never thought of this kind of thing before, and I quite woke up with a new sort of idea, for I saw quite well that the Russian Fleet could not do anything unless they first thoroughly beat the Germans.

ENGAGEMENT OFF DANTZIG—SINKING OF A RUSSIAN TORPEDO-BOAT.

I was so keen on my new ideas that I wanted to know more about it, and so steamed well to the N.E. to see what the Russian Fleet was like. Just as I did so, I saw a very small Russian steaming away to the south-eastward as if to get the look at the German Fleet which I was going to get at the Russian. She was stoking up tremendously, and evidently going at great speed. Two of the German cruisers in front immediately turned to the eastward to cut her off, but the plucky little Russian did not seem to mind; they closed one another very rapidly, and some puffs of smoke, followed by distant bangs, showed a little game of long balls. The Russian had evidently much greater speed than the others, and was drawing them astern, but quite away from her own fleet or supports of any kind. All of a sudden I saw she was blowing off steam furiously, and that her speed had slackened, if not dropped altogether. She began to fire more rapidly, and so did the Germans. All three were hidden by the cloud of smoke they raised. My engineer was frightfully excited; he said, ‘It was one of them new boilers a-priming,’ and that it was all up with the Russian. Sure enough it was, for all three ships presently came out of the smoke, the little Russian with the German flag flying over her own.

THE NAVAL BATTLE OFF DANTZIG—THE SINKING OF A RUSSIAN TORPEDO BOAT AND
RESCUE OF THE CREW BY AN ENGLISH YACHT.
]

I had got far enough now to see that the Russian Fleet was much more numerous than the German, but I could only make out six or seven really big ships. But there were a crowd of small ones, and behind, eight or nine little things like those we had seen taking the _Excellent’s_ men for training. I thought it might be dangerous to get mixed up with such a crowd, so I returned to the southward and eastward of the German Fleet. I had noticed that the Russians were steering slowly parallel to the position of the Germans, and night closed, leaving all things in this position. Both sides never left off flashing their electric lights up into the sky and all over the sea, and it really seemed to me as if they must all be a good deal confused by such things.

So matters went on till eleven o’clock, when I made my wife go below, while I lay down for a sleep on deck. I was awoke at one o’clock by such a row as never was, the whole German Fleet was a blaze and a roar of artillery. I supposed, of course, a Russian torpedo-boat attack, but it was impossible to tell what had happened,—all one knew was that an attack of some kind had been made. After a very few minutes the fire began to slacken, and some of it I noticed, with an unpleasant sensation, was coming my way. But that, too, soon came to an end. My wife was at that moment beside me again, and she suddenly cried out, ‘Hark! what’s that?’ I could hear a rushing and a panting sound drawing close to us, and then the ball of white foam that I had seen one night from a torpedo boat. The panting suddenly stopped, and the rushing became fainter and fainter until out of the dark came a torpedo-boat evidently making for the yacht, but very slowly. Just as she was coming alongside there was a sort of wild cry, and I saw she had suddenly gone to the bottom. Our little boat was down in an instant, and I got hold of somebody floating at once, while the men helped in two Russian sailors. I found I had hold of a Russian officer, but he was evidently unable to help himself. I could not get him in but we drew him alongside and the men carried him up. I then saw that the poor chap was badly wounded in the shoulder. No one on board could speak Russian, but we laid him down on the deck, and my wife threw herself down beside him with her scissors and began to cut away his dress, while she cried to her maid to bring her water and linen. It was of no use, however. The poor fellow was quite unconscious and bleeding to death. It was all over in ten minutes, and we could do nothing but reverently commit the body to the deep. Our other two Russians were unwounded, but could not make us understand anything. We put them next day into an English vessel bound to Revel.

THE NAVAL BATTLE OFF DANTZIG—WOUNDED RUSSIANS ON BOARD THE ENGLISH
YACHT.
]

We were eager enough in the morning to see what had happened, but there seemed to be no ships absent. One of the battleships was, however, evidently very much down by the head, and in the course of the morning we saw her quit the fleet for the southward. Everything else was, in fact, in the same position on both sides, and it was evident that a regular battle was no nearer.

I presently saw a vessel—I think it must have been one of the German Emperor’s yachts, from the look of her—coming up fast from the southward, and as soon as she got near enough, she began making a long signal. Almost directly, the German ships all turned towards her. They stopped when she reached them, and after she had sent a boat to the flagship, the whole fleet put on good speed, and stood nearly due west, as if for Kiel again. I could not keep up with them, so I am going to Colberg to post this and hear the news.

_P.S._—I have learnt at Colberg that the Emperor’s yacht brought news of the declaration of war by France, and orders for the whole German fleet to return to the Jahde at full speed, to avoid being caught between the Russian and French fleets. The Germans say they sank several of the Russian torpedo-boats, and that they had their broadside nets out. Only the _Oldenburg_ was struck by a torpedo, the one I saw. She got into Kiel all right, but was badly damaged. It is said that the Russians are spread along the whole German Baltic coast, and descents are expected.

THE GERMAN PLAN OF CAMPAIGN.

PROPOSED LINE OF INVASION THROUGH BELGIUM.

LONDON, _May 3_.

The declaration of war by France was the inevitable result of the action of Germany in regard to Russia. Events, indeed, have marched with a ruthless and tragical directness ever since the day, barely four weeks since, when Prince Ferdinand narrowly escaped death from Russian intrigue. In Germany, least of all, can there have been any doubt as to the course France would take. The experience of 1870 must have made abundantly clear to her what would be the outcome of the scenes on the Paris boulevards which our Correspondent has so graphically described. With powerful enemies on either flank, Germany cannot afford to adhere to punctilio. With the double contest on her hands she cannot now hope to bring into the battle-fields superior numbers, as in the wars of 1866 and 1870–71; prospects of success, as her chiefs well know, lie for her in promptitude of action, in blows struck in unexpected places, in carefully planned efforts to bewilder and divide the forces opposed to her.

To strike anywhere at the eastern frontier of the French adversary, barred as it is with almost continuous fortresses from Verdun to Belfort, must necessarily involve prolonged delay, even if the heavy siege-work which is inevitable should be ultimately successful. True, Germany will no doubt be able to foil any offensive on the part of France from the base of the fortified eastern frontier, but merely to do this would be to confine herself to that defensive which is intensely repugnant to her military character. Yet her only opening for the offensive, unless she were to force or obtain by diplomacy a right of way for her armies through neutral territory, of necessity must be by that eastern frontier of France which is coterminous with her own territory, and through or over the chain of fortresses which loom out sullenly from behind that frontier line.

The ideal line of invasion of France by Germany obviously lies through Belgium. It would turn and negative the chain of French fortresses on the eastern frontier, and give the shortest route through hostile territory to the French capital. Belgium is neutral ground; her neutrality guaranteed by the Great Powers; but how vain a pretence is this guarantee is already proved by the latest news from our Berlin Correspondent. It is believed (he states on credible authority), that Germany has been successful in exacting or obtaining from Belgium a secret Convention, whereby the armies of the Empire shall be free to traverse the former State, and to utilise for their purposes the Belgian railway system. The advantages of this arrangement may be said to fairly compensate Germany for the numerical superiority of the French forces over those which she herself is able to bring into the field.

The German plan of campaign, as explained by our Berlin Correspondent, is as follows:—Seven of the twenty Army Corps are engaged on the Russian frontier under the King of Saxony. To cope with France there remain thirteen corps, with a proportionate number of independent cavalry brigades. The First Army, under the command of Prince Albrecht of Prussia, is to advance through Belgium by Verviers, Liége, Namur, and Charleroi, and cross the northern frontier of France between Maubeuge and Rocroy, at and about Hirson. The fortresses on the French northern frontier east of Maubeuge are of little account, and there are none on the section specified. The Ardennes and Eifel districts are regarded as affording considerable protection to the line of communication as far as the frontier, and a further protection will presently be mentioned. It is unfortunate that between Aix and Liége there is available but one line of railway, but the accommodation is copious on either side of this section, several lines being serviceable right to the frontier.

This First Army is to consist of six Army Corps, the Guards, 7th, 8th, 10th, 11th, and 16th being those whose respective provinces are nearest to the region of concentration west of Cologne. Among its Corps-commanders are such men as Generals Meerscheidt-Hullessem, Von der Burg, Von Versen, Albedyll, Von Loë, all distinguished names in the war of 1870–71. The Emperor himself, who of course is Commander-in-Chief of all the German forces in both fields of operations, accompanies this army, after leaving the eastern frontier with General von Schlieffen, the Chief of the great General Staff, and a number of the German princes. The cavalry commander is General the Grand Duke Frederick of Baden.

The Second Army is to consist of the 9th, 14th, and 15th Army Corps. The course of action prescribed for this is to advance from Trèves through Luxembourg, with the consent of the Grand Duke, following the Trèves-Brussels railway as far as Arlon, whence it is to approach the French frontier between the fortress of Montmedy and Sedan, and in this vicinity, while covering the communications of the main army, draw on itself the attention of the French field army presumably lying behind the northern section of the French frontier fortresses from about Verdun southward, so hindering it from marching westward to swell the forces opposing themselves to the main German army moving by Namur and Charleroi. Having accomplished this ‘holding’ operation, whether with or without a battle, it is to disengage, move westward below Mezieres, and approach that army after it has crossed the frontier. In performing this arduous task the Second Army will have to encounter the physical difficulties of the Eastern Ardennes, and protect its line of communication running perilously near the frontier. To aid in this work, severe at once, and delicate, it is to be furnished with a strong cavalry force, under the command of Lieutenant-General von Kleist.

If from behind the curtain of their eastern frontier fortresses the French are bent on taking the offensive, German strategists, says our Correspondent, freely recognise the impossibility, owing to the diversion through Belgium of the bulk of the German force, of hindering them from over-running Alsace and Lorraine up toward the left bank of the Upper Rhine, where the German fortresses would give them halt. Yet such an advance, if attempted, they will not find quite an unchequered promenade. In Lorraine, Metz, for instance, will somewhat interfere with free transport by rail. In the chain of frontier forts the French engineers have designedly left between Toul and Epinal an undefended gap or _trouée_ of considerable breadth. Because of the fortifications of the second line of defence this specious interval is greatly in the nature of a trap, but its debouche toward France nevertheless needs to be watched by a strong field force on either flank.

Confronting this gap, on the plateau behind the Meurthe, between Luneville and St. Die, with advanced posts about Ramberville, and a strong wide-stretching cordon of cavalry still further forward, the Third German Army, consisting of the 13th Würtemberg, and 1st and 2d Bavarian Army Corps, under the command of Leopold, Prince Regent of Bavaria, is to take up its position. The Prince is to make demonstrations from time to time to hold in position the French field-forces on its flanks and rear. If threatened in palpably overwhelming strength, the army has a line of retreat across the Middle Vosges open, striking back in the passes as it retires. Should the gap be judged practical by-and-by because of the withdrawal of the French field-forces to participate in the _mêlée_ in the interior of France, instructions how to act will, of course, be sent from the Imperial Headquarters. As soon as the mobilisation of the active army is complete, the Landwehr is to be mobilised with all speed to the last man, and got into readiness to reinforce the armies already in the field, for the Fatherland will be contending against heavy odds, and will need the devotion of all its sons. It should be said that the 2d (Pomeranian) Army Corps is retained in Germany for the protection of the northern coast.

THE FRENCH PLAN OF CAMPAIGN.

While these preparations have been made by Germany, France has not been idle. According to the latest telegrams from Paris, the original plan of campaign devised by the French Etat-major has undergone modification, now that it has become virtually certain that the main German advance is to be made through Belgium. The contingency that a contributory stroke may be made in that direction had, indeed, been in a measure provided for originally. To meet it four Army Corps were to take up an initial position in the fortress-bound triangle, La Fere-Soissons-Laon. Two were to be on the Meuse between Mouzon and Dun to confront a possible German entrance between Montmedy and Longwy. Three were allotted to the frontier on the extreme south-east, since Italy is a member of the Triple Alliance. The garrison of the Government of Paris was not to move. The remaining ten corps were destined for the eastern frontier from Verdun to Belfort.

But these arrangements have been dislocated now that it has become apparent that a great German army is gathering on the eastern frontier of Belgium, with plain intent to strike for Northern France through that State. General Saussier, who holds the high position of Commander-in-Chief of all the French armies, and the chief of staff, General Miribel, have had the sudden task of planning other dispositions. No fewer than seven Army Corps, the 1st, 2d, 3d, 4th, 9th, 10th, and 11th, all furnished by the most adjacent territorial military ‘regions,’ are now to constitute the army to be massed in and beyond the La Fere-Soissons-Laon triangle, and beyond toward the northern frontier west of the Givet salient, and this army Saussier himself is to command. An army of two corps, the 5th and 6th, commanded by General Carre de Bellemar, is to line the Meuse on the northeast, as in the original disposition. Seven corps, the 7th, 8th, 12th, 13th, 17th, and 18th, are to constitute the field forces and garrisons of the eastern frontier, divided into two armies, the northern army of three corps commanded by General de Galliffet, the southern of four by the Duc de Auerstädt (Davoust). Three corps, the 14th, 15th, and 16th, all of south-eastern domicile, are to watch the Italian frontier from Albertville to Mentone, under the chief command of General Thomassin. The French mobilisation was set about appreciably later than the German; but once begun, no time has been lost, and the rapidity with which it has progressed and is being completed has surprised even those who were most strongly convinced of the regeneration of military France.

PUBLIC FEELING IN ENGLAND.

DEBATE IN THE HOUSE.

LONDON, _May 3_.

While, thus armed and fortified, France and Germany stand watching each other across the Rhine, we in England remain in a suspense profounder than we have experienced any time this side of the Napoleonic wars. The political excitement during the last few days has been intense, and at the prospect now imminent of the violation of the neutrality of Belgium has set the country by the ears. The people, the Press, and the politicians of England are deeply stirred, and the crowded public meeting, called at a few hours’ notice, which was held yesterday in London is a proof, if proof were needed, that the Government will be compelled by popular feeling to strain every nerve to avert from ‘gallant little Belgium’ the violation of that neutrality, to the maintenance of which Britain stands pledged. The opposition press, ablaze with zeal for the honour of England now that there seems an opening for the charge of supineness against the Government, shrieks in scathing leaders that the voice of the nation should enforce on the _fainéant_ Ministry its imperative duty of addressing vehement remonstrances to the Great Teuton power. The journals favourable to the Government cannot refrain from addressing strong representations to the Cabinet regarding the uncertain future of Antwerp if Belgium is again to become the cockpit of Europe, and the standing menace to Britain which that great fortress will become if it pass into other hands than those of the Belgians. The House, too, appears equally moved, and not a day has passed but at the question hour a rattle of shrewish interpellations has been shot across the House at the target of the Treasury Bench. The inexplicable composure of Her Majesty’s Ministers has, however, at length, broken down before the insistence of the Opposition.

On Tuesday, when the German mobilisation over against the eastern frontier of Belgium was well forward, and when there remained no longer any doubt that the army gathering there would traverse that State, Sir William Harcourt rose in his place, every eye in the House centred on him, and with portentous earnestness of aspect and manner, demanded that the Leader of the House should name an early day for a debate on ‘the grave international questions and eventualities connected with the imminent violation of the neutrality of Belgium, and the attitude of the ministry in relation to those questions and eventualities.’ Sir William reseated himself with, indeed, a brow of care and gravity, as beseemed a statesman dealing with a momentous crisis; but the lower section of his expressive visage mantled with a conscious complacency which seemed to indicate a conviction that he had propounded something in the nature of a ‘settler’ for this apparently inertest of Governments. ‘Take to-morrow, if you like,’ drawled the Leader of the House without rising, and then he actually and visibly yawned. The smirk faded out of Sir William’s face at the roar of laughter, irrepressible on the part of the Liberals and Conservatives alike, which followed Mr. Balfour’s drawl and yawn.

A SCENE IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS—SIR WILLIAM HARCOURT QUESTIONS THE
GOVERNMENT.
]

The Opposition papers have vied in vituperation of Mr. Balfour’s _insouciance_, which they described as ‘insolence,’ ‘impertinence,’ and ‘insult.’ One provincial journal congratulates Sir William Harcourt on his self-restraint in having refrained from pulling Mr. Balfour’s nose, and another, with startling novelty, compares the latter to Nero fiddling while Rome was burning. But yesterday’s scene in the House has shown, at least, that the Government, though composed, has not been indifferent. It must have been galling to many of the hot-brained to have observed that when in the afternoon Mr. Balfour lounged into the crowded House, he showed no symptoms of being crushed, or even perturbed, by this avalanche of invective. In opening the debate, the ordinarily bland and gentle Sir William Harcourt displayed a truculent aggressiveness which startled all listeners, so foreign was it to his previously disclosed nature. When he had finished, and the dust had settled a little, Mr. Balfour slowly rose. He spoke as follows:

‘Her Majesty’s Government were confidentially informed a year ago, both by Germany and Belgium, that those two States had concluded a secret convention, in terms of which, in case of war between Germany and France, Belgium was to permit German troops to pass through her territory and to utilise her railways. It no doubt is a question whether Belgium has any right thus to permit the violation of her neutrality guaranteed by the Great Powers, but the question in the circumstances is an abstract one. Who is to intervene to hinder her? Not Germany, who has made a bargain with her for the right of violation. Not France, who violated Belgian neutrality with impunity in 1870, and who, if she now is ready in time, will, in her anxiety to fight the Germans outside the French frontier, assuredly violate it again—if, indeed, the act can be termed violation when the neutrality is virtually dead already by Belgium’s own act. In eastern Europe there is other business on hand just now, than solicitude for the protection of Belgian neutrality. Does the right hon. baronet propose that England should undertake this task single-handed, and, _inter alia_, force Belgium against her will to co-operate with us in retrieving the neutrality she has already surrendered? We should, and in hostility to Belgium, stand alone, in an attempt to make good the guarantee we entered into conjointly with other Powers; and I say frankly that this is not a Quixotic Government. But when we were informed, in strict confidence, of this convention, we took measures for the interest and protection of Great Britain. Those measures may give umbrage in certain quarters; that we cannot help. We claimed and obtained from Belgium the right to occupy and garrison the great fortress of Antwerp if the convention alluded to should become operative, and to hold that fortress pending the solution of the momentous events now clearly impending on the Continent of Europe. We recognised the impossibility of enduring in Antwerp a possibly hostile neighbour so close to our own street-door, and we resolved and have secured the right to be our own neighbour over the way in the troublous times approaching. During the past week we have been quietly and unostentatiously making some needful preparations. These are now so forward that I may inform the House that a complete division of British infantry and artillerymen 15,000 strong will be embarked at sundry of our ports on the day after to-morrow, and will land at Antwerp on the following morning, being conveyed swiftly in steam transports under the convoy of the Channel Squadron. The division will sail fully equipped with an adequate supply of stores. Its commander will be a soldier whose name and fame are familiar to us all; I refer to that distinguished officer, Sir Evelyn Wood. The Belgians hand us over Antwerp as it stands, with fortress, artillery, ammunition, and all appliances for defensive operations which we fervently pray and trust that there shall be no occasion to engage in.’

The cheering throughout Mr. Balfour’s short but pregnant speech had been frequent and hearty; when he sat down it swelled in volume and force that seemed to shake the roof. Sir William Harcourt, with the best grace he could assume, professed himself satisfied, and the debate collapsed.

Late last night it was reported that the Government asked and received powers to enlist 20,000 men, and to call out for duty a large number of militia battalions.

BATTLE AT ALEXANDROVO.

DEFEAT OF THE RUSSIANS.

(_By Telegraph from our Special Correspondent, Mr. Charles Lowe._)

ALEXANDROVO (IN RUSSIAN POLAND), _May 2_.

As a result of the scouting ride undertaken by a squadron of Zieten Hussars from this place, as mentioned in a late telegram of mine, it was resolved at Headquarters here (and the decision was sanctioned by the Emperor before his return to Berlin _en route_ for the Rhine) to make another reconnaissance, this time in force with the view, if possible, of ousting the Russians from Alexandrovo and possessing ourselves of that important frontier position; for that the best defensive is an energetic offensive is a maxim which still forms the chief guiding principle of German warfare.

To-day, accordingly, a force consisting of the 6th Infantry Division, under Lieutenant-General Von Schnabeltitz, a combined Cavalry Brigade (Zieten Hussars and 3d, or Kaiser Alexander II. von Russland, Uhlans), under Major-General von Säbelschlucker; and two sections (comprising six batteries each, of six guns) under Major Count von Donnerkeil; to-day, I say, this force, starting at dawn, made a rapid march eastward, and was soon across the little stream forming the frontier, where the Russian outposts—who seemed to be singularly supine—were quickly driven in by a few shots from our advance guard. From a wounded Muscovite, who was shot in the thigh and had to be left behind by his comrades, we learned that Alexandrovo was, after all, not quite so strongly held as our late reconnaissance had led us to suppose, its entire defending force consisting of only one Infantry Brigade, under Major-General Grodnovodsky, with several guns, a few sotnias of Cossacks, and two squadrons of Dragoons. Perceiving, therefore, that we were considerably stronger in all our arms—especially our infantry and artillery—we made haste to push on towards our objective, and managed, by advancing at the double, to gain the rising ground on our side of Alexandrovo before the enemy could anticipate our design. But it was a close race; nor was it won by us without a sharp brush, involving several casualties on either side, between one of our Hussar squadrons, under Rittmeister Von Rummelsburg, and a sotnia of Don Cossacks, who were very bravely led, whoever was their commander.

Von Rummelsburg, who was sent forward with his Hussars to feel the ground in front of our infantry, had just gained the brow of the acclivity in question when he perceived the Cossacks making for the same vantage-ground from the opposite side, and at once charged down upon them in the gallantest style, emptying a few Russian saddles even before the shock, for his regiment was one of those that had been experimentally armed with the new combination lance-rifle—the invention of an ingenious locksmith at Potsdam—of which the Emperor became enamoured last year, and several of the brave Cossacks had thus succumbed to the impact of lead before they could come within stabbing distance of the equally fatal German spear—a notable feature this in _fin de siècle_ warfare, and one that is likely to impress itself still more vividly in the course of the present campaign.

The Cossacks being thus flung back on their infantry, whose movements were of an unaccountably slow and confused kind, our guns dashed up to the top of the bluff, which had formed the bone of contention between us and the Muscovites, and, unlimbering like lightning, began to blaze away at the retreating horsemen with shrapnel which seemed to do further execution amongst them. Then, laying their pieces at long range and loading with percussion-fuse shells, Donnerkeil’s gunners hastened to rain a terrific torrent of destructive projectiles on the railway station of Alexandrovo, behind which Grodnovodsky’s infantry had retired for temporary shelter. His guns planted on a rising bit of orchard ground on his left, were energetically enough worked against our batteries, but did us little or no harm, as the Prussian artillerists, always very careful in their selection of a firing position even in the tumult of action, showed little more than the mere muzzles of their guns over the crest of the land-wave, in the rear dip of which the infantry of the 6th Division were lying prone and scatheless in eager readiness to rush on as soon as the cannon of the Russians should be reduced to silence.

Nor had they long to wait for this result, for the furious artillery duel had barely lasted an hour when Grodnovodsky’s guns were seen to limber up—such of them as had escaped dismounting—and lumber off; and then our impatient battalions, throwing out their first fighting line, fanlike, in skirmishing order, with supports behind and reserves following, all in as machine-like and magnificent order as at a field-day on the Tempelhof Common, began to push forward, the guns firing over their heads all the while as they swarmed down the Russian-ward slope of our eminence and across the rye and potato fields, still rather wet and cloggy from last night’s rain, in front of Alexandrovo. The Russian infantry attempted to debouch from their shell-shattered position behind the railway station and other adjacent buildings, and deploy in line of purpose to stem our steadily advancing tide; but our guns, which were still able to pound away over the heads of our own battalions, played dreadful havoc with their shrapnel charges among Grodnovodsky’s out-manœuvred troops, who were also mown down in great numbers by the fearful fire of our magazine-rifles, of which the murderous volleys appeared to inspire our opponents with a feeling of panic as unfamiliar to them as the effects of smokeless powder; and, for the first time probably in all the military history of Russia, the soldiers of the Czar positively turned tail and fled before superior numbers and unaccustomed terrors.

Yet the dead and wounded whom they left behind amply attested the tenacious bravery with which they had fought; and the losses on our side were not insignificant, including, as they did, the death of Colonel von Degenzieher and Lieutenant Prince Zu Sonnenwalde-Drachenfels-Schinckenstein, a young man as brave as he was handsome, both of the 8th Brandenburg (Prince Frederick Charles’s) Infantry Regiment.

Still, the loss of these two gallant officers, and other brave men on our side, was more than compensated for by the capture of Alexandrovo (into which we marched, or rather rushed, with colours flying, and drums beating) with its rich accumulation of railway rolling stock, which will be far more precious to us than acres upon acres of military stores.

How in the Heaven’s name the Russians could ever have failed to concentrate, at the very outset of this war, a more formidable defending force around so very important a strategic point as Alexandrovo, is a bewildering puzzle even to those who have busied themselves with the systematic study of the Russian character; but, at any rate, there _they_ were and here _we_ are, thanks to the incredible supineness of our foes, their contemptible outpost service, the audacity and sudden swiftness of our movements, and the disastrous surprise which we then sprung upon them.

My courier returns with this despatch to Thorn, where I trust he will be able to commit it to the wires.

OCCUPATION OF ALEXANDROVO BY THE GERMANS.

ALEXANDROVO, _May 3_.

It is not yet twenty-four hours since the victorious 6th Division of the German Army occupied this place, and already it is bristling on the Warsaw, or south-eastern side, with a most formidable line of earthworks, thanks chiefly to the marvellous exertions of the Engineer Battalion of the 3d Corps, which was quick to arrive here by rail yesterday, within an hour of our triumph—the first of the campaign. But, indeed, the spades of all our infantry have also been incessantly at work since they piled their rifles here, it being thought certain that the Russians will endeavour to get a double amount of work out of their cranky, creaking mobilisation machine, and hasten to deliver a desperate counter-attack, with the view of repairing the disastrous error they have committed—an error that has placed us in possession of a railway base of operations of incalculable price. Among other spoils we captured 123 railway waggons of various kinds, and nine locomotives, which, added to the rolling stock that is hourly pouring in from the direction of Thorn, with the remainder of the German Army of the Vistula, now rapidly massing here, render us certain of the means of transport in the event of our deciding to carry the torch of invasion deeper into the heart of Russia.

It is true that the railway from here to Warsaw consists of only a single track, but the gauge, unlike that of all Russian lines on the right bank of the Vistula, is of the ordinary European size, and that in itself is a tremendous advantage for us. Our Army of the Baltic, under Count Waldersee, will be hampered in its forward movements into Russia, if it decides to push across the frontier also, by the fact that the line from Eydtkuhnen is a broad-gauge one, though, indeed, it is understood that the General Staff—prescient in all things—has also made provision for adapting the axles of German lines to the broader gauge of Russian; but, on the other hand, the Army of Silesia, under Prince George of Saxony, will enjoy the same transport facilities as ourselves, if it can only manage to effect, like us, a _pied à terre_ on the Warsaw and Vienna line, and we are anxiously awaiting news of its movements.

CAPTURE OF CZENSTOCHAU BY PRINCE GEORGE OF SAXONY.

PRINCE ALEXANDER OF BATTENBERG A PRISONER.

(_By Telegraph from our Special Correspondent, Mr. Charles Lowe._)

ALEXANDROVO, _May 4_.

There is great jubilation among the troops here, for, following hard on the telegram announcing the Emperor’s departure from Berlin to the Rhine amid an unparalleled scene of excitement and enthusiasm, came a despatch reporting that Prince George of Saxony, by dint of forced marches of immense difficulty through the devious moors and marsh-grounds east of Rosenberg and Tarnowitz on the Kreuzburg-Tarnowitz line, had also succeeded in surprising the Russians at Czenstochau, on the Warsaw-Vienna Railway, and, capturing that important place, after a desperate but unavailing resistance on the part of its defenders, who, incredible to relate, consisted of not much more than its usual garrison—a brigade of infantry and two brigades of cavalry. But the German losses here were much more serious than with us yesterday, one infantry regiment in particular—the 22d Silesian—being more than decimated in its desperate, yet successful, endeavours to drive the enemy from a clump of wood, surmounted by a battery—a proof that it still continues to be animated by the heroic spirit of its name-chief, Field-Marshal James Keith, whilom of Inverugie and Dunnottar, in the Kingdom of Scotland, who, at its head, met his own death, under the eye of Frederick the Great, when saving the surprised right flank of the Prussian Army from utter annihilation by the Austrians at Hochkirch in the Lausitz.

These two engagements, then, though on a smaller scale, have been the Wörth and Spichern of the present war; and it now only remains to be seen whether we shall be able to improve upon these initial successes—which were due to a great extent, I repeat, to the exceeding swiftness and daring of our own movements, as compared with the incredible slowness of our foes, and the faultiness of their mobilisation process, no less than to the fact that the Russians, imagining the Germans would never dare invade Poland, but remain upon their guard and form a flanking reserve support in Silesia to their Austrian allies, directed the main stream of their mobilisation further to the east, towards Dragomiroff’s line of hostile advance upon Lemberg and the Carpathian Passes to the south thereof at Stryj.

How Gourko, who is known to be still at Warsaw, though the bulk of his forces must now be well in front of him, will endeavour to cope with the situation thus so suddenly created for him, is naturally the question which occupies all minds here, and it cannot be very long before his intentions are made manifest.

Meanwhile the telegrams from Galicia, where our Austrian allies have concentrated the bulk of their forces, are not quite so encouraging, indicating, as they do, less initiative and promptitude of action on their part, as well as considerable difference of opinion in the minds of the Corps and Army Commanders as to whether they ought to remain on the defensive, or espouse an audacious policy of invasion like ourselves, and essay to beard the lion, or rather the bear, in his den.

Count von Schlieffen, who proves to be as amiable a man as he is an able Chief of the Staff, tells me that news reached the German Headquarters this afternoon of a tremendous conflict between no fewer than five Cavalry Divisions, three on the Russian side and two on the Austrian, somewhere near Brod, on the Volhynian frontier—a conflict which resulted, as it could scarcely otherwise have done from the relative proportion of numbers, in the total defeat of the Austro-Hungarian horsemen. The latter, it seems, were covering the movements of the 3d Austrian Corps, which had been appointed to head an advance in the direction of Dubno; and when they had been overthrown in a _mêlée_ which, in its colossal magnitude, recalled the mounted conflicts of the Crusaders, the victorious Russians, rallying and reforming line, swept down upon a detached portion of the Austrian infantry, regardless of the smokeless volleys from the Mannlicher repeating rifle, and made awful havoc among the sturdy men from the Steiermark, taking one whole battalion prisoners, including, it is rumoured, the colonel of the regiment, the 27th, who is none other than Count Hartenau, better known as Prince Alexander of Battenberg, ex-Prince of Bulgaria—a wonderful piece of luck, indeed, for the Russians, if the rumour proves true.

LATER.

Later despatches confirm the rumour of Prince Alexander’s capture by the Russians, and add that, when the news became known at Dragomiroff’s headquarters—which are said to be at Dubno—there was almost as much jubilation as when the intelligence of Napoleon’s surrender flew like wildfire around the German lines at Sedan.

The ex-Bulgarian Prince is to be sent to St. Petersburg, where rooms are being already prepared for him at the Katherinenhof, and meanwhile he has been allowed to retain his sword in order that his unforgiving and exultant cousin, the Czar, may have the satisfaction of receiving it from the humiliated captive’s own hands—a picture that will eclipse in interest all the romantic incidents which have already marked the Prince’s strangely chequered career.

NIGHT ATTACK BY THE RUSSIANS.

FIGHTING BY THE ELECTRIC LIGHT—ROUT OF GENERAL GOURKO—RETREAT UPON
WARSAW.

(_By Telegraph from our Special Correspondent, Mr. Charles Lowe._)

ALEXANDROVO, _May 7_, 5 A.M.

The German Army of the Vistula has just inflicted on the Russians another Plevna, and they are now in full retreat towards Warsaw. Such, in brief, is the result of the sanguinary night battle of which I have just been a witness. The Russians were the first to practise night attacks as a means of obviating the dreadful losses certain to result from magazine-rifle fire during the day, but they will long have cause to remember their first serious application of the nocturnal principle of modern warfare.

By seven o’clock last night the 3d and 4th German Corps had completed their concentration at and near this place, and, after extending the lines of entrenchment begun by the 6th Division on capturing Alexandrovo, had gone into fireless bivouac on both sides of the railway line, their tents extending for about a couple of miles in either direction. Several reconnaissances executed by us during the day had elicited that the Russians were marshalling in great force at a place called Waganiek, and were receiving reinforcements from the right bank of the Vistula, by means of a pontoon bridge which had been thrown across the stream a little higher up, at Dobrowniki; but, owing to the dense masses of cavalry which hovered on their front, concealing their movements as a stage curtain hides from view the shifting of the scenes in a theatre, it was impossible for our scouts to bring back more definite information. One item, however, of their intelligence, gathered from a captured Cossack, had a special interest for us, to wit, that the Russian forces immediately in front of us consisted mainly of the 5th and 6th Corps, with part of the 4th (including the relics of Grodnovodsky’s Brigade), and were under the personal command of General Gourko, the hero of the Balkans. On the strength of this information it was decided to attack Gourko before he got his preparations complete, and for this purpose to break bivouac, and start in quest of him at the dawn of day, as Prince Frederick Charles had done with Benedek at Sadowa.

I had spent the evening with a particular friend of mine, Captain von Jagdkönig, of Stülpnagel’s Brandenburg Infantry Regiment, and was just on the point of setting out with him on a visit of inspection among the fore-posts, when a Uhlan dashed up with the intelligence that there were signs of a mysterious commotion in front, and that something was audible in the otherwise noiseless night like the distant rumbling of waggon and cannon wheels. Anon other messengers from the front came spurring in with similar news, and as the general purport of all these ‘_Meldungen_’ could no longer be doubted, the bugles were at once set to work, and presently all the silent bivouacs, taking up the shrilling war-note one after the other, like the multiplication of a distant echo, were resonant with the thrilling call to arms; and thanks to the severe training in the discipline of ‘alarms’ which the German army has been put through by the present Emperor since his accession to the throne, the army of the Vistula had all started from its sleep and was standing in perfect battle array, with its face to the suspected foe, within ten minutes of the first trumpet summons.

The night was intensely dark, the moon having just gone down behind an impenetrable bank of pitchy clouds, and all fighting seemed to be utterly out of the question. Presently, however, the inky darkness all around us was pierced, one may almost say scattered, by a sudden blaze of light, which, appearing to possess all the illuminating power of the mid-day sun, flashed lightning-like upon us its blinding beams from the murky forehead of the midnight sky. ‘The electric light!’ ran from mouth to mouth, after a moment’s bewildered pause, while every one instinctively shaded his eyes from the glare of this all-irradiating and all-penetrating lamp which modern Science had thus hung up to facilitate the work of slaughter, as if the very sun refused to look any longer upon human carnage. For some moments the more than mile-long rays of this blinding ball of light, this detective bull’s-eye of modern science, swept round the horizon in front of it, as if uncertain where to fix its focus—now shooting beyond, now falling short of us, and anon settling on us and suffusing us with a sea of dazzling light. Presently another, and yet another such luminary burst forth from elevations of pretty equal distances in front of us, and the process of their groping about for our lines revealed to us dense masses of grey and dark-green coated battalions picking their cautious way down the distant slopes in front of us. For the electric light has this disadvantage, that in flinging its beams about to discover the locality of foes, it frequently at the same time unveils the whereabouts of friends. This was the case here, but our gunners were on the alert, and next time the focus of the light, in its jerky search-movement, fell on the Russian troops in the course of their stealthy advance towards us, we opened the concert with a screaming chorus of shells, accompanied by a rattling orchestration of small-arms. Nor had we long to wait for the antiphone; for next time the search-light managed to flood us with its blinding effulgence, the Russian batteries, which had been planted on the same elevations, gave lusty voice, and bellowed away at us in most leonine fashion, though their projectiles, being aimed at much too long a range, flew high over our heads and left us scatheless. Not so, however, the rifle-rain of our enemies, which, first in intermittent showers, and then in a steady downpour, began to fall among our ranks with deadly effect; and the word was passed from flank to flank for all the infantry to lie down and court the shelter of our field entrenchments, which crested the ridge of our line of battle.

Between us and the Russian infantry there intervened a depression in the ground, a little deeper than that which separates Mont St. Jean from Belle Alliance; but what enhanced the value of this ground to our foes was the fact that their batteries in the rear, planted as they were on the electric light elevations overlooking the terrain, could fire over the heads of their infantry till the latter was pretty well within storming distance of our position, much in the same way as the guns of the 6th Division had been able to do the other day on the occasion of our first engagement, which resulted in the capture of Alexandrovo.

The Russians advanced against us with a steady, stolid courage worthy of the men who had essayed to capture the Sand Bag Battery and storm the redoubts of Plevna; and as the fitful flashes of the electric light revealed to us, for a few moments at a time, their dense battalions advancing and deploying into the fighting-lines demanded by modern tactics and the rules of fire-discipline, I could not help thinking of that cold and dark November morning when, without the aid of the electric light, they crowded to their doom, with the same dreadnought and devoted bravery, up the slippery slopes of Inkerman.

It was not long before the roar of the cannon on both sides became outvoiced almost by the reverberating rattle of musketry, which was all the more bewildering, as only the very faintest flashes of flame from the smokeless powder of both sides served to indicate the exact position of the opposing lines of infantry fire; and it was only when a new turn of the electric light (which, by-the-bye, might have changed the course of Egyptian history, had Arabi enjoyed the advantage of it at Tel-el-Kebir) registered the progress of the Russian advance, that we could make out the development of a battle in which unity of command was simply impossible, and each captain had to be his own general officer. The development of a modern battle is a very slow process, and this one was doubly so from the fact, due to the utter darkness in which each side was occasionally enveloped, that there was much random and ineffective firing on both parts. But there came a point of time in the Russian advance when the manipulators of their electric lights found it impossible to illumine our lines without also including the Russians within the Asmodean sweep of their rays, and then it was that our men, seizing their opportunity, plied their magazine rifles with infernal industry and effect.

But this opportunity did not last long, for suddenly the four midnight suns of Science, of far more dazzling splendour than the tourist orbs of the North Cape, which had been rendering possible the work of slaughter, disappeared from our firmament as completely as if they had been blazing torches plunged into a pool of ink; and their disappearance was followed by a brief period of almost painful silence which overspread the broad and lengthy field of battle.

We never doubted that this pall of pitchy darkness had thus been suddenly thrown around the battlefield to enable our foes to make another rush towards us, unimpeded by the accurate aim of shell and bullet; and a curious thrill, half of pleasure, half of undefined dread, went shooting through our veins when, as we were listening intently, peering into the impenetrable darkness beyond, our ears were struck by a faint peculiar tinkling as if of jangled metal rods, and the meaning thereof at once became clear to us. The Russians were fixing bayonets, preparatory to a charge on our position; and the sound was quickly answered by the loud and stern command: ‘_Aufpflanzen!_’ which ran all along our lines, and was likewise followed by a repetition, on our side, of the clinking and sharp clicking above alluded to.