Chapter VIII: Part 8

The battle was over, the French line pierced, their last closed reserves broken, and we had a brigade of Cavalry and masses of Infantry, who had not yet pulled a trigger, in hand.

I looked at my watch, it was just 8 A.M., and I turned and rode for the nearest wire. Crossing the ground over which we had come, I was able to notice that our two divisions had both still a regiment in hand, and of the following Corps only the Corps Artillery had been engaged, so we were in ample strength for the pursuit.

THE LESSON OF THE FIGHT.

What the effect of this victory will be on the course of the war it is too soon to prophesy. It may very well prove decisive, for we have now driven a wedge right in between the French Armies, behind their eastern and northern defences, and stand with five Corps on either face of the wedge, with three more in between ready to move to the support of either. The French must either move against us by lateral roads and railways, in which case we can always meet them on a broader front, or attempt to concentrate far away to the southward, and in any case our strength is morally more than doubled by our successes. The Germans took the field with no overweening opinion of themselves. They are a modest people, as a whole, given to pessimism about themselves, and ready to believe the overdone reports as to the regeneration of their hereditary enemy that reached them through the public Press. The French, on the other hand, had again learnt to believe in themselves; their journalists, who were not going to do the fighting, had lauded them to the skies, while the nation and rank and file had believed all they were told, even if the experienced soldiers had not. They have fought with the greatest gallantry, but for the second time it has been their want of thoroughness that has ruined them. In each arm and every branch they were just a little behind their adversaries. They lost two clear days in mobilisation, and hence were strategically unready when the blow fell. Their Cavalry was brave, but not a match for the Germans in mobility, and consequently was beaten. The defeat of the Cavalry led the Infantry to blunder into a trap where no human courage could avail them, and this again entailed a concentration backward, with the obligation of standing on the defensive to await the arrival of a reinforcing Corps which came just too late; and the consequences we have seen in to-day’s fight. I do not believe the Germans have lost very heavily, though isolated bodies may certainly have done so. But the three arms played into each other’s hands so perfectly, and the arrival of the supports was so well timed, that none were ever called on for exertions beyond their strength. Such tactical handling has never been seen since Napoleon’s days. But there is this difference to note, that this time the troops have handled themselves instead of being handled by the General.

It is too early yet for a list of casualties to have been made out, but at the last moment I learn that our Cavalry yesterday lost 20 per cent. of their strength.

THE WAR IN THE FAR EAST—THE CAPTURE OF VLADIVOSTOCK.

DETAILS OF THE ENGAGEMENT.

A correspondent at Hong-Kong telegraphs under date July 18th as follows:—

Every one is engaged in discussing what we shall do with Eastern Siberia, now that we have got it. The fall of Vladivostock was so sudden, and so apparently easy of accomplishment, that it almost seems as if the Admiral, Sir Frederick Richards, and General Barker are likely to lose the credit of the success which they themselves achieved.

It is known that the 1st Battalion Leinster Regiment, together with the 1st Battalion of the 4th Goorkhas, the 21st Bombay Rifles, another Bombay regiment, and two batteries of Artillery, were dispatched to Hong-Kong from India at the very beginning of the troubles, and that they were joined there by 1000 of the finest men ever seen from Australia, with distinct orders to the Admiral and the General at Hong-Kong (who was given the military command) to operate against Vladivostock.

The _Leander_ and _Mercury_ were instantly sent to the north to reconnoitre, while the remainder of the squadron was brought to Hong-Kong, it being understood that cruisers would be detached from the East Indian and Australian stations to guard Singapore and the Straits.

Except two ships which claimed protection in the neutral waters of Japan, it was known that all the Russian squadron had retired to Vladivostock. Telegrams had further informed the Admiral that four ships from the Pacific station had been ordered to Yokohama to wait his orders.

It was frightful work getting the necessary armaments and stores on board the transports, from the intense heat prevailing; but there was much less sickness than might have been supposed, the new troops being roomily housed on board the steamers which were to take them north, and kept employed, except during the greatest heat, in assisting in all the work of preparing and loading the transports. In rather over five weeks everything was finished, and the _Archer_ and _Swift_ being left to guard Hong-Kong in the event of any stray Russian cruiser appearing, the remaining thirteen ships of the squadron, headed by the Admiral in the _Imperieuse_, who had the General with him, and convoying fifteen or sixteen transport, store, and collier steamers, sailed for Vladivostock.

The harbour of Vladivostock is one of the finest in the world. It lies east and west, and is about two miles long in those directions, while it is about half a mile wide from north to south. All over this fine space there is a clear depth of from five to nine fathoms—precisely that of greatest convenience for an anchorage. The town is situated at the north-west angle of the harbour, and the latter is everywhere overlooked by high ground, but especially from the south. The immediate entrance to the harbour is by a passage a mile and a half long and three-quarters of a mile wide, lying about N.N.E. and S.S.W., and opening into the west part of the inner harbour. This passage is formed by a peninsula not more than half a mile wide at any part, and more than three miles long. It is generally high ground, rising in parts to 300 feet. The entrance to Vladivostock is wholly covered by the large island of Kazakavitch, which measures five or six miles either way, and contains in itself the very fine and extended harbour of Novik Bay. The strait between this island and the mainland, which must be entered to pass into Vladivostock Harbour, narrows gradually, but with much indentation and many anchorages, to the west entrance, formed between the Shkota Peninsula before described, and the island. At this point it is only about one-third of a mile wide, and the north shore is the end of a very narrow, sandy spit, about a third of a mile long.

It was known that for years past the Russians had been erecting batteries and placing mines to guard the approaches to their harbour, and were there no other way of advancing to attack but by sea, up the channel and into the harbour, no place is so easily defended. But as it turned out, and is now recognised, no place is more difficult to defend when attacked in the proper way. It is near the end of a peninsula itself, and troops landed from anchorages at the heads of the two bays which form the peninsula, can easily isolate and cut the town off from the mainland, and so take it in the rear.

It was at first thought that our expedition would follow this plan of attack, but the rendezvous made by signal immediately on leaving Hong-Kong, namely, Novik Bay, set that question at rest.

It took the fleet ten days to reach Novik Bay, but, off Korsakov Island, it was joined by the _Melpomene_, _Daphne_, _Champion_ and _Garnet_, from the Pacific, and so made up to seventeen sail in all. A few hours after, the _Leander_ and _Mercury_ rejoined, reporting that there was a small garrison—perhaps 150 men—occupying the two batteries covering the entrance to Novik Bay, and probably protecting a mine field, but no other batteries or garrisons were known to be on the island. The ships had been twice chased by four ships coming out of Vladivostock, but in obedience to orders had not attempted to bring them to action, and had easily out-steamed them each time.

The whole squadron now lay-to off the entrance to the bay, while 500 men of the Sutherland Highlanders were landed south of the entrance with directions to capture the southern battery, assisted by the fire of the _Leander_ and _Mercury_, and to turn the guns on the northern battery, also assisted by the ships.

This turned out to be a very small affair. The Russians taken in rear and engaged in front, fled into the forest long before our troops closed; and the northern battery, seeing what had happened, fired one or two shots from the very light guns which the battery contained, spiked them, and retired. The cables to the mines were discovered and cut, and within four hours afterwards the whole armament was safely anchored in Novik Bay.

The next two days were entirely occupied in filling up with coal from two colliers, and settling the final arrangements for attack. The Admiral himself, taking the General with him, hoisted his flag in the _Alacrity_, and ran up the west shore of the Shkota Peninsula, drawing the fire of a small battery at its south end, and of one or two heavier ones at the back of the town.

On the third day, all was astir at daylight. Most of the boats of the squadron were alongside the transports, and troops to the number of nearly 3000 were crowded into them, besides the field-pieces of the ships, and their crews. The steam launches and pinnaces soon took lines of these loaded boats in tow, and steamed out of the bay, whence five or six of the war ships had preceded them. In a very few minutes these latter were engaging the little battery on the end of Cape Tokarofski, as the low sandy spit is called, which made but a very feeble reply, and soon hoisted a white flag. There were only twenty men in it, and three small guns, so that resistance would have been hopeless. It was ascertained to be the mine station for a line of mines across the Strait.

The plan of attack was now cleverly developed. The landing was effected all along the west shore of the Shkota Peninsula, and in spite of the rough scrub with which it is covered, the seamen dragged the field-pieces along the shore to the north. No resistance was offered; it was impossible to offer any under the guns of the ships, and by noon the whole body were halted for dinner.

There is a valley about half-way along the peninsula lying about N.E. and S.W., opening on to the harbour at the northern end, and on to the sea at the southern end. It was supposed that resistance would be encountered here, though it was not intended to march through it, but to adhere to the shore and the cover of the ships until the town could be turned.

Accordingly, after dinner the advanced guard had no sooner opened this valley than it was met by a heavy rifle and gun fire from a strong detachment posted and entrenched across the head of it. But the General was not to be caught napping. He had sent four field-pieces up the hill on his right, which from its brow poured a wholly unexpected and murderous fire down upon the Russians. This they did not stand for ten minutes, and our march went on. Then the field-pieces on this height found themselves overlooking the harbour, and at once turned their attention to shelling the ships in it, though the distance was too great to admit of effective fire.

THE TAKING OF VLADIVOSTOCK: GOORKAS PROTECTING THE GUNS.
]

At this time the ships, ten or twelve of them, spread themselves in a long line ahead of the advancing column, and searched every foot of ground, which could be easily done as it was generally low.

There were several batteries discovered facing seaward, which the ships engaged. The Russians stuck to their guns most manfully, and some of our ships suffered very heavily, but none of the batteries had any efficient rear defences, and as the gunners caught sight of the head of our column advancing by the shore, they invariably abandoned their works and retired to the northward, along the road that leads round that part of the harbour.

Fearing an attempt might be made to dislodge the field-pieces on the height, a wing of the Goorkhas was sent up to reinforce them, and it was quite a sight to see these little fellows swarming up like so many ants.

And now the signallers with the field-pieces got to the highest point of ground, and very soon telegraphed to the Admiral that the ships might shell the Russian troops by firing on the signal station, which the troops surrounded. Some of the ships could see the station, and in obedience to signal from the Admiral began to shell it. The signallers directed the fire from the ships, so that, without seeing the object, it was immensely destructive, and ultimately forced the Russians to retreat.

This being again communicated to the ships and to the landing party now mustering in strength at the back of the town, a general advance was made, before which the Russians fell back, and ultimately sent in a flag of truce with terms of surrender.

Our loss was very small; only one officer of the Bombay Regiment, and 42 men killed; 5 officers and 134 men wounded. Nor was the Russian loss much greater, being estimated at 67 killed and 203 wounded. It was the skill of the attack in turning the Russian defences, and the immense use that was made of the fire from the ships, which produced a result astonishing to those who had not inquired into its causes.

EVENTS IN THE EAST OF EUROPE.

THE BELEAGUERED GARRISON IN VARNA.

LONDON, _June 11_.

The course of events in the Black Sea, since our fleet for the time evacuated it, has been as follows:—It appears that as soon as the Russian Fleet was driven off the sea into harbour, immediate steps were taken by the Russian authorities to withdraw the troops which had been gathered for the purpose of reinforcing the troops already landed in Bulgaria. Unable to pass by sea they were useless for that purpose; and it was hoped, if they were sent off at once to reinforce the armies opposing Austria, that a successful action against that Power might enable the victorious army, co-operating with the army already in Bulgaria, to make the passage through Roumania by land and, at least, ensure the safety of the expeditionary force in Bulgaria. Perhaps it might be possible in that case to secure the object, dear to the heart of the Czar, of so strengthening that expeditionary force as to enable it to crush the Bulgarian Army. The deepest anxiety prevailed in Russia as to the fate of those troops, somewhat rashly committed to the sea expedition, no sufficient allowance having been made for the prompt action of the English Fleet.

It was some time before the Russian Fleet, which had retired to Sebastopol, discovered that the English Fleet had actually evacuated the Black Sea. Sir George Tryon had left some cruisers as long as possible to disguise the movement. When these also disappeared, a fear was entertained that this was a mere ruse to draw the Russian Fleet away from Sebastopol in order to crush it in the open sea. We regret to say that it was through the telegraphic dispatches to the English newspapers that, by various indirect channels, the news first reached the Russian Government that Trebizonde had been evacuated and, subsequently, that the English Fleet had passed into the Mediterranean. It was, however, not till Sir George Tryon had actually reached Malta that they were fully aware that the Black Sea had been evacuated. Then it was, after a day of hesitation as to the best course to be pursued, decided to establish touch with the Russian Army in Bulgaria, all communication with which had been cut for some time. As, however, that army—not without difficulty—had maintained its telegraphic communication with the sea, this was effected soon after the cruisers had reached the coast, in the neighbourhood of Varna.

It was then ascertained that the Bulgarian force in Varna itself was still holding out; and that the Russian Army, reduced to about 35,000 men by the force left to guard the lines to the sea, by the covering force at Varna and Shumla, and by sickness, had been able to effect very little. It had at first advanced inland as far as Tirnova, where it remained in an entrenched camp, waiting for information. It was believed that the Austrian force in Servia had been too much reduced to be able to advance, and that the Bulgarian troops were fully occupied in Macedonia. Had the force landed been carried up to the figure that was intended, an immediate advance on Sofia would have been attempted. As the case stood, however, General Karanoff did not feel himself strong enough for this, and as now his only hope was to have the way through Roumania opened, he had turned northwards, having sent messengers through to communicate by land with Russia. He had, however, found it impossible to effect the passage of the Danube up to the moment when he received the joyful telegram announcing that, in consequence of the departure of the English Fleet, it was possible either to withdraw him by sea in safety, or to reinforce him. As there seemed every prospect that a great success might yet be achieved, if the force originally intended could now be landed in Bulgaria, the cruiser carried back proposals to that effect. Meanwhile, however, much time had been lost. The greater part of the Russian troops had been sent inland by train from the sea-board. Though they were at once reembarked on all available lines, very little had been done more than preparing for embarkation at Odessa, Sebastopol, and other ports, when the news of the Battle of Sardinia created a sudden alarm that the Black Sea would not long be a safe place for Russian ships. For the next ten days tremendous efforts were made to hurry the embarkation of the troops, but by the end of that time news reached the Russians that large numbers of English cruisers had already appeared in the Black Sea.

ARRIVAL OF BRITISH TROOPS IN THE SEA OF MARMORA.

LORD WOLSELEY IN CONSTANTINOPLE.

News of the dispatch of the reinforcements to the Mediterranean Fleet, announced by our naval correspondent a fortnight ago, had reached the Russian Government, unfortunately again through the enterprise of some English correspondents, whose information was telegraphed _viâ_ New York, and thence by a route not as yet clearly traced to some Russian agents, who managed to get it to their Government very rapidly. It was therefore taken for granted that the cruisers would be promptly followed by such ships as Admiral Tryon could spare. When then the first of Admiral Markham’s line-of-battle ships appeared, the Russian Fleet, afraid of being caught whilst involved in assisting in the transport of the troops and stores to Varna, once more retired, part to Odessa, and part to Sebastopol. Our own cruisers immediately re-occupied the littoral of Bulgaria near Varna. They were successful in capturing one of the transports that was attempting to escape. We have been favoured with these particulars, which have been gathered from the prisoners captured on this transport. As far as can be ascertained the reinforcements landed on this occasion have, in consequence of the delays recorded, not exceeded 15,000 or 20,000 men. Nearly all of them are reported to have marched to join General Karanoff who is supposed to be between the Danube and Tirnova, at which point he is expected to effect his junction with the reinforcements.

BRITISH TRANSPORTS PASSING THE DARDANELLES—FORT CHANAK SALUTING THE
ENGLISH SHIPS.
]

The greatest alarm exists at Sofia. The Bulgarian troops are still much involved in the Macedonian campaign, and, though as many as possible have been recalled for the defence of the capital, it was feared that, with the sea open, the Russians would be able to pour in irresistible numbers. And, though that danger is now over, if General Karanoff has once more under his hands an effective force of 60,000 men, or nearly so, it is believed that he may yet make a bold dash for the capital. The moment the news of the Battle of Sardinia reached Spain, Sir Evelyn Wood’s troops,—which had been held in readiness to sail at two hours’ notice from Cadiz and Gibraltar,—passed eastwards. The news reached Alexandria and Cyprus on the same day. Embarkation was very rapid at Alexandria. The garrison there had been largely reinforced in order to facilitate embarkation, in consequence of the difficulties of keeping a large fleet of transports for a long time in the open roadstead at Famagousta. The whole of the Army of Occupation will be temporarily employed on the Eastern expedition. Sir Francis Grenfell has announced his confidence that he will be able, for the time the war lasts, to ensure the safety of Egypt, provided that, should any serious movement be threatened by the Mahdi, he is supported by a certain number of native troops from India. This has been provided for. Within twenty-four hours ten thousand troops in all were ready to sail from Alexandria. On the other hand, progress at Cyprus has been much slower. The wind not having been favourable for some days, a large part of the transports were obliged to put to sea; and when the embarkation began, the difficulties of embarking were very serious.

Every one in the island is groaning over the fact that nothing has been done to develop the splendid old harbour of Famagousta during our occupation. However, the first of the transports were ready to sail in a day or two. As it was necessary to await the arrival of Admiral Markham’s Fleet, or, at least, of the cruisers, before passing out of the Sea of Marmora, the ships sailed as they were ready, and the rendezvous was formed after passing the Dardanelles. The first troopers to arrive in the Sea of Marmora were those from Alexandria. These were followed immediately by about 5000 men from Malta, who had been detained there when the alarm due to the French Declaration of War caused the check to the expedition. The garrison has, like that of Gibraltar, been reduced to a very low ebb, and will be made up by the Militia regiments, who have most patriotically volunteered for service in the Mediterranean garrisons. A portion of the troopers from Cyprus followed; but as soon as they had entered the Sea of Marmora, Admiral Markham’s battle-ships passed through. The cruisers sent on to protect the movement had already entered the Black Sea, and been followed by those from Admiral Markham’s Fleet.

Sir Evelyn Wood’s force from Gibraltar and Cadiz, rather less than eight days from thence, arrived before nearly the whole of the force from Cyprus had come in. On the tenth day after the battle of Sardinia—that is, on June 4, the fleet of transports, headed by Sir Evelyn Wood’s troopers, began the entry into the Black Sea. At the moment we write, we hear that the whole of the transports carrying all the troops, except the half Corps originally detained in England, have been lost to sight from land, sailing east. As soon (as was recorded in our issue of May 28th) as the seven battle-ships and cruisers from the Baltic were known to be on their way to England, the remaining half Corps was embarked from the home ports, and the entire fleet, with the troopers, reached Gibraltar about forty-eight hours after Sir Evelyn Wood had sailed. The troopers have accordingly now entered the Sea of Marmora, and will, no doubt, follow the rest of the fleet.

THE SULTAN, LORD WOLSELEY, AND SIR CLARE FORD WATCHING THE PASSAGE OF
THE BRITISH FLEET THROUGH THE BOSPHORUS FROM THE STEPS OF THE DOLMA
BAGHTCHE PALACE.
]

Lord Wolseley has been in Constantinople for some time. He was there in telegraphic communication with all the different bodies of troops and with England. He was more conveniently able to obtain fresh information from all quarters, and to be in communication with our Ambassador and the Porte. He watched from Dolma Baghtche the magnificent sight of the passage of our fleet and troopers towards the Black Sea. Admiral Markham embarked in the Ambassador’s yacht, after a long conference with Lord Wolseley, and followed up his own fleet; but we learn that just before the first troopers of the detachment from England began to pass the Dardanelles, the yacht returned, and Lord Wolseley embarked in it, leaving sealed orders for the detachment from England. We hear that Lord Wolseley talks much of the advantages of a campaign in Asia Minor, and that actually Trebizonde has again been occupied by an advanced detachment. Moukhtar Pacha, having been largely reinforced, is still holding his own very well on that side. Further than that we know as yet nothing of the nature of the future campaign. Another week will, however, no doubt throw much light on the subject.

FEELING IN AUSTRALIA.

PROPOSAL TO SEIZE NEW CALEDONIA.

(_From our Special Correspondent, Mr. David Christie Murray._)

MELBOURNE, _June 2_.

The _Age_ and the _Argus_ of this day’s date publish the results of several interviews. I wire you a synopsis of the ten newspaper columns which feed the curiosity of Australian readers. Lord Hopetoun and Lord Jersey are essentially and quite naturally non-committal. They unite in declaring that, so far, the Colonial attitude and action have the full approval of the Home Government, but they both decline to lend countenance to the combined action of the Governments of Victoria and New South Wales. Mr. Justice Windeyer, of Sydney, and Mr. Justice Way, of Adelaide, are at one in the opinion that, France and England being at open warfare, the Australian Fleet may at once be legitimately employed in operations against the enemy without leave obtained from the Home Government.

Sir Thomas M‘Ilwraith exults in the prospect of the fulfilment of his life-long dream. He, more than any other Colonial statesman, has been interested in the preservation of purely British influence in the Southern Hemisphere, and he sees in the present European conflict a certain promise that the blundering ineptitude of Lord Derby and his successors will be finally rendered harmless. The fact that England is fighting shoulder to shoulder with Germany will, Sir Thomas thinks, facilitate a friendly exchange by means of which the north-eastern portion of New Guinea may be brought under the dominion of the British Crown. He insists, with some vehemence, on the undoubted fact, that if his own policy had not been obstructed by the Home authorities, the northern waters of these seas would have been given over to the undivided empire of Great Britain, and he urges strongly the advisability of seizing the present moment to undo the blunders of the past. He approves warmly of the combined action of New South Wales and Victoria, and declares that their proposal to seize New Caledonia is not merely statesmanlike and patriotic, but could hardly have been avoided in the circumstances.

In New South Wales Sir Henry Parkes and the Hon. Mr. Dibbs sink, for once, all party differences, and the venerable Leader of the Opposition supports the action of the Government as warmly as if it had been taken at his own initiative. Here, in Melbourne, the Government and Opposition are, in quite as pronounced a fashion, at one with each other. In short, outside the Governors, whose official position condemns them to neutrality, there is not a dissentient voice to be heard. New Caledonia has long been a thorn in the Australian side. It is only 700 miles from the coast of Queensland, and the northern colony and its parent neighbour have long since tired of being overrun by escaped French convicts of the vilest type. You, in England, have little conception of the resentment which is inspired in the breasts of the most loyal Australians by the supineness and folly which allowed the Home Government to sit idly by whilst a French penal settlement was established so near our shores. Australia complains, and complains with justice, that she has been treated from the first as a reservoir into which might be poured the most abominable draff of English society. It was bad enough, and more than bad enough, to be compelled to receive the refuse of the Home Country. But when the escapes from New Caledonia began to be so numerous as to prove a decided nuisance, the indignation of the public was naturally aroused. Whatever you may think of us in England, we Australians are, at least, a patient and enduring people. We have made mild demonstrations in the way of departmental remonstrance, and have done nothing more. Had we been stronger than we are we should long since have made the presence of the French Government in New Caledonia a _casus belli_.

The Mother Country is so indifferent to our aspirations and our needs, that she has never given herself the trouble to recognise the gravity of this special cause of complaint. At least 300 cases of escape from New Caledonia to Australian shores are known and recorded. In the case of the ‘exiles’ we naturally rejoice. We have given home and a glad welcome to that distinguished artist, M. Henri, who was banished from his native France for his political opinions, and who has now achieved for himself a perfectly unique position in Australian art. There is, assuredly, not one man in the Australian Continent who would willingly have put an obstacle in the way of escape of M. Henri Rochefort. It is not men of this type to whose presence in our neighbourhood we object. But it is undeniable that the French criminals who now people New Caledonia, are men of the most abominable of all conceivable types. The grievance—the true grievance—is not merely that the French Government should have been allowed to defile our neighbourhood by the deportation of these people, but that they should positively have determined to perpetuate the race. How many people in England are aware of the shameful and stupid fact that the French Government, having massed its most awful male outcasts in New Caledonia, deliberately sent out to them female convicts of the most abandoned type in order that the men might marry and reproduce their own likeness? The mere incidental question of bigamy by government authority need scarcely be considered. Amongst the women sent out were parricides, simple murdresses, and creatures soiled by all the crimes of which nature is capable. One of the brides had murdered both her father and her mother, and another, on the outward voyage, threw her own baby out of a port-hole. The sires of the future French settlement were, of course, worthy of their partners, and one may fairly ask what could possibly be expected of a race so founded. I have myself spoken with Englishmen upon this question, and have been met with a laugh, a shrug of the shoulders, and an allusion to an ancient proverb about a pot and kettle. It is undeniable that Hobart Town and Botany Bay welcomed in their time a great deal of human evil, but it never came unalloyed, and an examination of facts will teach any inquirer that a good fifty per cent. of the so-called crimes for which men and women were expatriated, were no more than the ebullitions of an impatient patriotism, or the escapades of unguided youth. Leaving that aside, nobody pretends that the Australian population of three and a half millions is seriously tainted. We are troubled by certain forms of rowdyism and brutality, and we have a dangerous class rooted amongst us. That a great law-abiding population should be handicapped in that way by the past action of the Mother Country was hard enough to bear in all conscience, but that England should have sat supine whilst a foreign power doubled, trebled, and quadrupled, the curse upon our borders is intolerable.

We Anglo-Saxons are everywhere a long-suffering and rather stupid people. Australia herself has been somewhat to blame for her own partial acquiescence in this injustice, and there are vast numbers of her inhabitants who know little and care less about the question. The Australian citizen who had suffered from the inroads of a gang of foreign desperadoes has a sympathetic interest in the matter, but he is only one in ten thousand, and the fact is that we have been far too tame.

The distance between New Caledonia and Australia is, as I have said already, about 700 miles. That between the Sandwich Islands and the United States is about 2000 miles. But those islands are directly under American control, and the United States have always held that the presence of a foreign power there would have to be regarded as a menace. Just as she warned away France from Mexico, she would now warn away any foreign intruder in the South Seas. It is easy to conceive that England herself might have been equally wise. The French treatment of the Canaques, whom they dispossessed when they took forcible possession of the island, has been wrong-headed in the extreme. They have had the absurdest panics about impossible native risings, and have sent out numberless expeditions to destroy the food supplies of the wretched natives. Things are quieter now, and the Canaques are effectively cowed.

It was decided last night by telegraphic communication between the Premiers of Victoria and New South Wales, that the two leading Colonies should jointly invite Queensland, Western Australia, South Australia, and Tasmania to lend their authority for the immediate dispatch of the Australian squadron to Noumea. An intimation of the fact has been sent to the Home Government, but no permission has been asked. It is not in the least likely that England will interfere with us at such a moment, and on such a question, but even if she did, the question is one so vitally affecting the destinies of Australia that we should be compelled to take the matter into our own hands.

LORD CHARLES SCOTT OBJECTS.

_June 6._

There is a rumour abroad to the effect that Admiral Lord Charles Scott has put his veto on the dispatch of the fleet until such time as instructions can be received from England, but though this report has been angrily seized upon by the populace, no credence whatever appears to be attached to it in quarters where the most trustworthy information might naturally be looked for. It has served, however, to enliven the city to a very remarkable extent, and the mere hint of opposition to the popular will has created a widespread excitement, and has made it evident that the men of the colonies are bent on having their own way. Collins Street and Bourke Street are patrolled by vast bands, who groan loudly at the name of the Admiral and cheer the local leaders of public opinion. It is quite a fortuitous occurrence that the various bodies of Melbourne cadets had arranged to march with their bands through the principal streets this evening, but the event has given colour and stir to the _al fresco_ entertainment provided by the populace for their own delectation. Special editions of the evening papers confirm the rumoured action of the Admiral, and the excitement is growing to fever heat. Lord Charles Scott’s position is that the squadron of which he holds command is intended for defensive purposes only, and cannot be legitimately employed in offensive operations without the direct sanction of the war authorities at home. He is likely to be technically in the right, but the fact that England and France are already actively engaged is generally held here, amongst the most moderate men, to abrogate this rule, and to make it the immediate and obvious duty of Australia to take her place in action. In the meantime, so the Sydney telegrams inform us, the squadron now lying in the harbour there is making every preparation for active service, and it is entirely probable that, after all, no real delay may ensue.

INSTRUCTIONS FROM THE ADMIRALTY.

DEPARTURE OF THE EXPEDITION.

MIDNIGHT.

After all, there will be no waiting. A telegraphic dispatch has been received from the Admiralty, and the instructions are that the squadron shall take instant action. A special train to Sydney has been chartered by the Premier. He will be accompanied by three or four members of the Ministry, and I have succeeded in attaching myself to the party. The train starts in an hour.

_June 7._

The Ministerial train has broken the record, and at four o’clock the Ministerial party is steaming across the beautiful harbour towards the flagship. Driving hurriedly through the streets of the city, we have had time to see no more than that the main thoroughfares are gay with bunting, though the streets themselves are empty. The whole population has turned out to witness the departure of the squadron, and from the deck of the launch a crowd of many scores of thousands is visible about Lady Macquarrie’s Chair. The great harbour is thronged with every kind of craft. All the merchant ships are gaily decorated everywhere. The weather is heavenly, and the harbour, with its sparkling waters and majestic lines of headland, can rarely have been seen to more advantage. The spirit of the people is evidently and entirely in the enterprise on which they have embarked. The four ships of the Australian squadron lie in sight of the vast crowd, and are already volleying clouds of smoke. As I lift my eyes from the note-book in which I am rapidly scrawling these lines, I can see that the great hulk of the flagship has begun to move. Flash goes a gun from her black side, and a hundred rolling echoes bellow from the surrounding heights. The crowd sends back a heart-stirring cheer, and a gun from the fort responds to the Admiral’s salute. Vessel after vessel salutes, and the fort answers each in turn. Like leviathans afloat move our bulwarks on the brine, a score of times huger than when Campbell sung the prowess of the British arms at sea. Before we can reach the flagship they are all well under weigh, and forging grandly towards the open waters. Aboard some of the yachts and launches are brass bands, not all of the finest quality. They play ‘God save the Queen’ in all manner of keys and in different times. The result is not what one might fancy, for everybody seems to find it wildly exhilarating. The cheers from the immense concourse near Government House grow fainter and fainter as we recede, and at last die away altogether. There is a fresh breeze in the open, and a roughish sea, and so in a while even the most enthusiastic of the pursuers are willing to turn back again. The spectacle is over. The squadron has steamed away, and Australia stands ready to strike her first blow in the cause of the British race in the seas of the Southern Hemisphere.

THE FRANCO-GERMAN CAMPAIGN—THE GERMAN ADVANCE.

RENEWED FIGHTING—ROUT OF THE FRENCH ARMY.

(_From our Special Correspondent with the Germans._)

SUIPPES, _May 19_.

A whole week has passed and we have not moved. Our cavalry and most of my Corps are enjoying the hospitality of the French barracks at the camp of Chalons, horribly dirty, still, better than a bivouac in the pouring rain we have been enduring. Our officers’ patrols go daily south of Chalons-sur-Marne and eastward to Bar-le-Duc.

Rheims is observed—practically invested—for our scouts tear up the railways leading to it from Paris as fast as the enemy can lay them down again, and further to the westward patrols are in touch with the French Army of the North, and we learn that troops are daily being moved by rail to the southward, which corroborates other information that they are again going to try on us Bourbaki’s stroke of 1870, and, under the circumstances, it is about the best thing they can do.

In our rear the Reserve Divisions are working day and night to complete our road and railway communications with the Namur-Luxembourg Railway, and as everything has been foreseen to the smallest detail years in advance—even the girders for bridges made and kept in stock—and the country, moreover, presents no serious difficulties (certainly none to frighten our engineers of Afghanistan experience, and the Germans are but little behind us), I have no doubt that our halt here will be but of short duration; indeed, some of the roads are evidently through already, for our Reserve ammunition waggons came up yesterday. The line through Mezières-Givet is also expected to be open in a day or two, and then our siege train will be able to take the works of Rheims under fire in earnest. This delay, I need hardly say, is very much against the feelings of our Hotspurs, and I have listened to many an oration from young subalterns to prove how differently old Moltke would have led them. With due deference, I think it can be shown from his own works that he would have done nothing of the kind. His own saying was that the art of war was only the practical application of principles to the attainment of the end in view—viz., the subjugation of the enemy to your will—at what knowledge of the circumstances shows you to be at the moment the cheapest possible cost to the country.

In 1870, with a vast numerical superiority, no fortifications to speak of on the enemy’s side, and no allies on his own, the principle of extermination by a series of battles was the best policy to adopt. How, against almost equal numbers, backed by fortresses not to be despised—the first victory having been won and the fighting value of our troops thereby doubled—our best game is not to break our heads against the enemy’s strong places, but in a central position to await his offensive returns and move out to meet him—not stand to be attacked—as soon as his plans are sufficiently indicated by our cavalry outposts.

It was a wise stroke on the part of the enemy to lead off with a first blow from Russia; but we countered it by the immediate assumption of the offensive, which enabled us to score first blood against France. For the present we can await the decision in Russia in comparative security.

The troops are not idle meanwhile. After a day’s rest and the reorganisation of the regiments in consequence of losses—which, by the way, amount to only 10 per cent. in the Corps engaged—they were at work again drilling with the same intensity of purpose as if the spring inspections and not a battle lay before them. That was a lesson they learnt from the last war—viz., that the command of men in the squadron or company is personal property, and cannot be handed over like charge of the quartermaster’s store. A leader must know his men, and they must know him by actual contact on the parade ground if the full fighting worth is to be got out of the men.

11 P.M.

News of our victory at Alexandrovo has just come in. That will set free a couple of Corps at least for this, the _decisive_ theatre. If only they had our Midland and North-Western traffic managers!

SUIPPES, _May 25_, 10 P.M.

We move at 5 A.M. to-morrow, direction Bar-le-Duc—_i.e._ S.E.

HEITH LE MAURUPT, _May 27_, 10 P.M.

Another most decisive victory for the Germans. Censor will not allow any more.

CAMP OF CHALONS, _May 31_, 10 A.M.

Another victory; now I may tell you all that has happened in the order in which it occurred. As I had anticipated, the French have again tried Bourbaki’s move, with much the same results. As far as we can learn, three Corps were transferred from the line of the northern fortresses, by Paris—Lyons, and the whole of their Army of the East moved northward to meet us, their right on the line of their eastern defences.

Our 2d Army moved up both banks of the Aisne to meet them, it was theoretically wrong, no doubt, but we could not help it. The 3d passed troops over the Meuse, to form on their left, and we—_i.e._ the 1st—detached three Corps to reinforce the right, leaving two ‘field’ Corps and a number of Reserve Divisions (I understand six) to hold the Army of the North in check, and retire slowly before it if seriously attacked.

My Corps rendezvoused on the 26th at 4 A.M. around Suippes. The country had been thoroughly reconnoitred, and, guided by officers of the Topographical Staff, all combatant branches moved straight across country, in the good old Napoleonic method, trains and Corps Artillery only by the roads. The rain had ceased, and the going was fairly good; anyway, we all agreed that it was infinitely preferable work to stewing in dusty lanes in closed columns, with never a breath of fresh air, even though in the bottoms the soil was somewhat heavy. The men were in the best of spirits at the start—reviving the good old march to Sedan joke, ‘Mit Armen links schwenkt! Gerade aus’—but the sun came out, and by 5 P.M., when we had covered nearly twenty miles as the crow flies, faces began to look drawn and weary. Then we caught the sound of the guns in front, and the men stepped out again briskly.

About 6.30 we got the order to halt and bivouac; fortunately we were close to some ponds and a stream. Our cavalry had this time come little into conflict with the enemy, but after driving in a few patrols had come on the French infantry, practically deployed for action, heading a little west of north, and had not attempted to make any impression. Indeed, there was no reason why they should, for they could see everything perfectly from some neighbouring ridges, and so had fulfilled their duties. We, at least, knew where the enemy was, and he did not know where we were. So far we had the advantage.

The fight began with a race for the ridges. We had no particular advantage, and a scrimmaging fight began at once all along the line. Our artillery was in great part neutralised; so was that of the other side. It simply became a struggle of endurance—the Germans, relying on the superior discipline of their men, could afford to feed the fighting line more slowly (_i.e._ with greater distance between the following lines), and thanks to the perfection of their Staff, trained to work as nearly as possible under wartime conditions, the mechanism of the feed worked with less friction and more certainty; fresh troops were always forthcoming when they were required. On the other side the machinery wanted lubricating, owing to their radically defective conception of the nature of the infantry fight, which induced them to move to the attack in a succession of extended lines following one another too quickly; their strength melted away almost before they reached the actual fighting line, and then the Staff failed to send support quickly enough. It was soon evident that they were bleeding to exhaustion more rapidly than we were.

Thus hour by hour our attack pressed home like waves of an incoming tide, and from a distance the effect was most curious to watch. Two long undulating lines—a light blue haze hanging over them—each seemed to be backed by some elastic force; as the equilibrium at one point was disturbed, one line recoiled and the other pressed forward till flanking fire brought it again to a stop for the moment.

By noon the edge of the high ground overlooking the valley, through which runs the Rhine-Marne Canal, was reached, and now the flood was running strong in our favour. Then we could see, too, how these disturbances in the equilibrium of the two lines were occasioned. The smaller units of the French thought too much of their flanks, too little of their centre. Thus, where two battalions or companies touched, the men balled up and crowded together, offering a better target; then the fire from the centre relaxed, and the moment the pressure of the enemy’s fire gave way, the Germans dashed forward to fill up the vacuum. Soon, too, the French endeavoured to bring up their reserves in column, for their men would no longer advance in extended order; and now the small calibre rifle and its great penetration justified its existence; I had not thought much of it before. But the employment of columns induced a new feature—viz., a tendency in the larger units (_e.g._ divisions) to close on their centre—and presently before our eyes we saw a great gap opening out behind the enemy’s fighting line. The time for the final blow was close at hand. Our gunners, coming up under cover of the hills, were crushing the artillery of the enemy out in the plain, and had some attention to spare for his reserves. I saw a cavalry aide-de-camp leave the Staff of the Army Commander, who was close at hand, and I made tracks as fast as I could for some broken ground, where I hoped to be safe from the coming storm.

Twenty minutes afterwards, heading straight for the gap I described above, came at least eight squadrons in line at a gallop. Their ground scouts yelled at their own infantry in front to lie down, and they mostly did so. The cavalry checked for a moment at them, as if at a fence, and then swept down on the infantry in front, not two hundred yards distant, rode over and beyond them, wheeled outwards, and bore down on the reserves. As they passed our infantry, the latter threw themselves into groups to let the second line of cavalry—which still remained in squadron columns—through, and then four more lines of cavalry followed, and the whole plain became a sea of dust and confusion. Our infantry rallied into company columns, and dashed forward with the bayonet in pursuit, and we had the last tableau of Waterloo over again. The canal and the stream in the hollow put a stop to our advance, and fresh infantry with the pioneer companies moved forward to make good the crossing, which might have been a troublesome business enough, had not the troops to our left—_i.e._ west—already carried the passages at Revigny.

Darkness was now rapidly coming on, and the fight here died away. I rode back to the rear, and found food and a welcome with the Headquarters of our third Corps, which had only just reached the ground and had not been engaged.

About five next morning the troops again stood to their arms, but in the night news of an advance of the French Army of the north had come in, and we began to retrace our steps over the same ground already traversed. As we were starting, intelligence of the British victory in the Mediterranean arrived, and with it rumours of Communistic disturbances in Paris. I was also told that two Corps had been detached from the 2d Army from near St. Menehould, and two more from the Russian frontier had arrived about Pont-a-Mousson, and with the four Bavarian reserve divisions were preparing to strike the French Army of the west in their right flank. At night we reached the line of the great road Chalons-sur-Marne—St. Menehould, and about 4 P.M. fell right on the flank of a French corps moving from Epernay on the Camp of Chalons. Part of the Corps from St. Menehould marching by Suippes was on our right, and together we drove the French back in some disorder into the complex of hilly ground about Moronvilliers, cutting them off from Rheims.

The Corps left to watch this latter place had fallen back fighting the previous day, and lay along the road from Suippes by Somme-puis-Attigny—_i.e._ about north and south.

At daybreak we advanced again, and soon a struggle began which, in the hilly, wooded ground we now were in, utterly defies description. As before, it was mainly decided by superior endurance of loss and a better-trained Staff. Of tactical combination there was none on a large scale, but divisional artillery and cavalry suffered heavily in endeavouring to support their comrades of the infantry.