CHAPTER VI. VACILLATION IN METZ.

Two such staggering and unexpected blows filled the civil population with terror, the aspiring soldiers at head-quarters with anger, and the Imperial Commander-in-Chief with dismay. Disorder, consternation, and amazement reigned in Metz. And no wonder. From Alsace came the appalling news that the 1st Corps had been hopelessly shattered and that the Marshal was already fleeing for safety, by day and night, through the passes of the Vosges. Strasburg reported the arrival of fugitives and the absence of a garrison. “We have scarcely any troops,” wrote the Prefect; “at most from fifteen hundred to two thousand men.” The chief official at Epinal asked for power to organize the defence of the Vosges at the moment when the passes were thronged with MacMahon’s hurrying troops. It was known that General Frossard had been defeated and that he was in full retreat, but during twenty-four hours no direct intelligence came to hand from him. That De Failly, left unsupported at Bitsche, would retire at once was assumed, but the orders directing his movements did not reach him until, after a severe night march, he had halted a moment at Lutzelstein, or, as the French call the fort, La Petite Pierre. From Verdun and Thionville arrived vehement demands for [p 132] arms and provisions; and from the front towards the Saar no report that was not alarming. Turning to the south-east, the Imperial head-quarters did not know exactly where Douay’s 7th Corps was; and in an agony of apprehension ordered the General, if he could, to throw a division into Strasburg, and “with the two others” cover Belfort. When the telegram was sent one of these had been heavily engaged at Woerth, and the other was at Lyons not yet formed! The anxiety of the Emperor and his assistants was embittered by the knowledge that not one strong place on the Rhine had a sufficient garrison; and that the rout of MacMahon had not only flung wide open the portals of Lorraine, but had made the reduction of ill-provided Strasburg a question of weeks or days. So heedlessly had the Ollivier Ministry, the Emperor and Empress rushed into war, at a time when even the fortifications of Metz were glaringly incomplete, when the storehouses of the frontier fortresses were ill-supplied, when arms and uniforms were not or could not be furnished to the Mobiles; when, in short, nothing could be put between the Germans and Paris except the troops hastily collected in Alsace and Lorraine—now a host in part shattered, in part disordered, and the whole without resolute and clear-sighted direction.

Prince Louis Napoleon, sitting passively on his horse in the barrack-yard of Strasburg, in 1836, was defined by a caustic historian as a “literary man” whose characteristic was a “faltering boldness.” The phrases apply to the Emperor in Metz. It may be said that he could use the language employed by soldiers, that he had some military judgment, but that, when called on, he could not deal at all with the things which are the essence of the profession he loved to adopt. After a lapse of more than thirty years, he found himself, not alone in a barrack-yard facing an [p 133] “indignant Colonel,” but at the head of a great, yet scattered and roughly handled Army, with formidable enemies pressing upon his front, and equally formidable enemies pouring through the rugged hill paths upon his vulnerable flank, and threatening the sole railway which led direct through Chalons to Paris. He was now a man, old for his years, and a painful disease made a seat on horseback almost intolerable. He could not, like his uncle in his prime, ride sixty miles a day, sleep an hour or two, and mount again if needful. He was an invalid and a dreamer, who had, against his fluctuating will, undertaken a task much too vast for his powers. The contemptuous words applied to him by Mr. Kinglake seem harsh, still, in very truth, they exactly describe Louis Napoleon as he was at Strasburg in 1836, and as he sat meditatively at Metz in 1870. Yet, be it understood, he never at any period of his career was wanting in coolness and physical courage, though what Napier has finely called “springing valour” had no place in his temperament. He was scared by the suddenness of the shock and the rapidity of events, and he was bewildered because he was incapable of grasping, co-ordinating, or understanding the thick-coming realities presented by war on a grand scale; and stood always too much in awe of the unknown. He could not “make up his mind,” and in the higher ranks of the French Army there was not one man who could force him to make it up and stand fast by his resolution. But, inferior as they were when measured by a high standard, it is probable that any one of the Corps Commanders, clothed with Imperial power, would have conducted the campaign far better than the Emperor. Another disadvantage which beset him was a moral consequence inseparable from his adventurous career. He could not add a cubit to his military stature; but he need not have “waded through slaughter to a [p 134] throne.” In Paris before he started for the frontier, in Metz on the morning of August 7th, he must have felt, as the Empress also felt, that his was a dynasty which could not stand before the shock of defeat in battle. He had, therefore, to consider every hour, not so much what was the best course of action from the soldier’s standpoint, as how any course, advance, retreat or inaction, would affect the political situation in Paris. Count von Bismarck’s haughty message through M. Benedetti in 1866, if Benedetti faithfully delivered it, must have come back to the Emperor’s memory in 1870. Remind the Emperor, said Bismarck, that a war might bring on a revolutionary crisis; and add, that “in such a case, the German dynasties are likely to prove more solid than that of the Emperor Napoleon.” It was a consciousness of the weak foundations of his power, breeding an ever-present dread alike in the capital and the camp, which, making him ponder when he should act, falter when he should be bold, imparted to his resolutions the instability of the wind.

It is on record that the first impulse of the Emperor and his intimate advisers was to retreat forthwith over the Moselle and the Meuse. General de Ladmirault was ordered to fall back on Metz; the Guard had to take the same direction; Bazaine, who had responsibility without power, was requested to protect the retirement of Frossard, who, driven off the direct, was marching along the more easterly road to Metz, through Gros Tenquin and Faulquemont, which the Germans call Falconberg; De Failly was required, if he could, to move on Nancy. MacMahon, it was hoped, would gather up his fragments, and transport them to Chalons, where Canrobert was to stand fast, and draw back to that place one of his divisions which had reached Nancy. Paris was placarded with the Emperor’s [p 135] famous despatch; and the Parisians read aloud the ominous sentences which heralded the fall of an Empire. “Marshal MacMahon,” said the Emperor, “has lost a battle on the Sauer. General Frossard has been obliged to retire. The retreat is conducted in good order.” And then followed the tell-tale phrase, used by Napoleon I. himself on a similar occasion—“Tout peut se rétablir,” all, perhaps, may come right again. But so inconstant was the Imperial will, that the hasty resolve to fly into Champagne faded out almost as soon as it was formed; for the next day the dominant opinion was that it would be better to remain on the right bank of the Moselle. MacMahon and De Failly accordingly got counter orders, indicating Nancy as a point of concentration, and based on a feeble notion that they could both be drawn to Metz; while once again Canrobert was told to bring the infantry of the 6th Corps up to the same place by rail. Orders and counter orders then showered down on De Failly—thus, he was and he was not to move on Toul—but the enemy’s movements dictated the future course of a General rendered as powerless as his superiors were vacillating; and finally both the Marshal and his luckless subordinate, as well as Douay’s 7th Corps, made their way deviously to the camp of Chalons.
The Emperor resigns his command.

When the Emperor suddenly revoked the order to retire upon Chalons, he was influenced partly by military, but chiefly by political considerations. Remonstrances were heard in the camps, remonstrances arrived from Paris, and the combined effect of these open manifestations produced an order to establish the Army in position behind the French Nied, a stream which, rising to the southward, flows parallel to the Moselle, and, after receiving the [p 136] German Nied, runs into the Saar below Saarlouis. The weather had been wet and tempestuous; the retiring troops, exhausted by night marches and want of food, struggled onward, yet showed signs of “demoralization;” in other words, were out of heart, and insubordinate. Frossard’s men, who had passed the prescribed line before receiving the new instructions, had to retrace their steps; and Decaen, now in command of the 3rd Corps, begged for rest on behalf of his divisions. Yet the three Corps and the Guard occupied, on the 10th, the new position which, selected by Marshal Leb?uf, extended from Pange to Les Etangs. It was intended to fight a battle on that ground, and the men were set to work on intrenchments, some of which were completed before another change occurred in the directing mind. The position was found to be defective; and, on the 11th, the entire Army, abandoning its wasted labours, moved back upon the outworks of Metz itself, almost within range of its guns. Thus had three precious days been spent in wandering to and fro at a time when the military situation required that the Army should be transferred to the left bank of the Moselle, and placed in full command of the route to Chalons, even if it were not compelled to fall back further than the left bank of the Meuse. One explanation, drawn by the official writers of the German Staff history, from French admissions, is that, instead of Metz protecting the Army, the Army was required to protect Metz, seeing that the forts were not in a state to hold out against a siege of fifteen days! The Imperial Commander had not even yet quite made up his mind; but, late on the 12th, finding the burden too severe, and the clamour of public opinion too great, he appointed Marshal Bazaine Commander-in-Chief of “the Army of the Rhine.” It was a damnosa h?reditas; for the campaign was virtually lost during ten days of weakness and vacillation, [p 137] and especially by the want of a prompt decision between the 7th and the 10th of August, while there was yet time.

As we have said, the main reason was political. The eager aspirants for power, and the friends of the Empress in Paris, ousted the Ollivier Ministry on the 9th, and the new combination, with the Comte de Palikao at its head, felt that they could not retain office, that the “dynasty” even could not survive unless the Emperor and the Army fought and won. Everything must be risked to give the dynasty a chance. The Regency and the Camp fell under the influence of hostile public opinion, which had already begun to associate the name of Napoleon, not only with the reverses endured, but the utter want of preparation for war, now painfully evident to the multitude as well as to the initiated. Yet so menacing and terrible did the actual facts become that even the Emperor could not resist them, and, in handing over the command to Bazaine on the 13th, he ordered that unfortunate, if ambitious, officer to transfer the Army with the utmost speed to the left bank of the Moselle, place Laveaucoupet’s Division in Metz, and gain Verdun as quickly as possible. It was too late, as we shall see; for the Prussians were ready to grasp at the skirts of a retreating Army, and once more thwart the plans of its leaders. In order to track the course of events to this point, the narrative must revert to the morrow of Spicheren.
The German Advance.

On the morning of the 7th of August, some French troops were still in Forbach, and Montaudon’s Division had not departed from Sarreguemines. The fronts of the two invading armies were hardly over the frontier, and the [p 138] chiefs had not yet learned the full extent of the double shock inflicted on the adversary. A thick fog enveloped the Spicheren battlefield, and clung to the adjacent hills and woods, and through the mist the patrols had to feel their way. No serious resistance could be offered by the French detachments at any point; Forbach, together with its immense stores, was occupied at an early hour; while, so soon as the vigilant cavalry saw the rear-guard of Montaudon quit the place, they rode into Sarreguemines. Patrols were pushed out along the roads towards Metz, but no advance was made, partly because the respective Corps composing both the German Armies were still on the march, and partly because the Staff, mistaken respecting the route followed by MacMahon, had ordered several movements with the object of intercepting and destroying his broken divisions. The consequence was that the leading columns stood fast while the Corps to the rear and left were brought up to and beyond the Saar. MacMahon and De Failly, as we have seen, were hurrying southward, and thus Von Moltke’s precautions proved needless. During the 8th, the cavalry, despatched far and wide, between St. Avold and the Upper Saar, found foes near the former, who at once retired, but none on the course of the river. The next day, the horsemen, still more active, sent in reports which satisfied the cautious Chief of the Staff that the French had really fallen back on Metz, yet inspired him with some doubts respecting their intentions. He thought it possible that they might assume the offensive in the hope of surprising and routing part of the German Armies—a project actually discussed by the Emperor and Bazaine, but soon thrown aside. Von Moltke, however, determined to guard against that design, kept his several Corps within supporting distance; and, on the 10th, began a great movement forward. The First Army, in the post of [p 139] danger, was to serve as a pivot upon which the Second, effecting a wheel to the right, swung inwards towards the Moselle above Metz. Von Steinmetz, much to his disgust, had to halt about Carling, with his supports towards Teterchen and Boulay, and the 9th Corps in support at Forbach. On his left, the Second Army was advancing in echelon on roads between Harskirchen, near Saar union, where the 4th Corps touched the outposts of the Crown Prince’s Army, and Faulquemont, where the 3rd Corps stood on the railway, having on its left the 10th about Hellimer, and the Guard at Gueblange. The 12th was still on the Saar, and the 2nd, awaiting its last battalions, in Rhenish Prussia. Thus the two Armies stood on the 11th, covered by brigades of cavalry, whose operations, better than anything else, illustrate the audacious, yet elastic and painstaking, methods employed by the Germans in war.
The German Cavalry at Work.

Never before had the principle that cavalry are the eyes and ears of an army been more extensively applied. We have already seen these well-trained horsemen watching the line of the Saar, and even looking into the rear of the French camps; we shall now see them literally infesting the country between the Saar and the Moselle without let or hindrance from the French cavaliers. After Spicheren, the German cavalry divisions were distributed along the front of the Corps in motion; and the hardy reiters were soon many miles ahead of the infantry, some penetrating up the easy western slopes of the Vosges, where they found no enemies, others riding towards Nancy and the points of passage over the river below that town; and others again hovering pertinaciously on the rear of the backward [p 140] moving French Corps, picking up stragglers, capturing prisoners, interrogating officials, and inspecting, from coigns of vantage, the camps and positions of the enemy. In this way they learned that the Emperor had visited Bazaine at Faulquemont; that the greater part of the French were Metzward, and that on the left towards the hills there were none to be seen. The cavalry divisions rode out long distances, detaching flanking parties and pushing patrols to the front, so that the whole range of country between the right and left of the Infantry Corps was thoroughly searched by these indefatigable and daring explorers. Thus, a troop of Uhlans, starting from Faulquemont, rode as far as the woods near Berlize, and keeping well under cover, yet quite close to the enemy, took note of his positions at and beyond Pange, saw large bodies moving from Metz to take ground behind the Nied, and learned that reinforcements, the leading brigades of the Canrobert’s Corps, in fact, had arrived at Metz. Another patrol of lancers, moving on the St. Avold road, confirmed the report that the French had occupied the Nied line; while, on the opposite flank, a Hussar patrol found no enemy about Chateau Salins, but laid hands on the bearer of important despatches. On the 11th, the screen of inquisitive horsemen became thicker and more venturesome, trotting up to the river Seille itself at Nomény, on the road to Pont à Mousson. The mounted men of the First Army had hitherto been held back, but now the two divisions, passing forth on the flanks, approached and examined the left of the French line. One troop arrived near Les Etangs just in time to see De Ladmirault’s Corps folding up their tents, and soon beheld the French march off towards Metz; indeed the deep columns were moving in that direction from the left bank of the Nied. The Uhlans followed De Ladmirault through Les [p 141] Etangs until they saw him go into position at Bellecroix close to the place. In like manner, other Uhlans, operating further up the stream, found the camps and intrenchments abandoned, so that it became certain, on the evening of the 11th, that the French Army had been drawn back under the guns of Metz. The next day the activity of the cavaliers increased, and they pressed forward until they were in contact with the French outposts, and were able to observe the whole new position between Queleu and Bellecroix, working up on the left to a point within three miles of Metz, and proving that as far as the right bank above the town, the country was unoccupied. On the 12th, Uhlans had ridden into Nancy, on one side, and, on the other, a body of Cuirassiers actually found the gates of Thionville open, captured a garde mobile belonging to the garrison, and brought off a Prussian reserve man who had been detained in the town. At Dieulouard a patrol crossed the Moselle on a bridge just constructed by the French, and were only driven from the railway, which they had begun to destroy, by infantry—the last detachments of Canrobert’s Corps allowed to get through by train from Chalons. A daring attempt was made upon Pont à Mousson by some Hussars; but here General Margueritte, sent with his Chasseurs d’Afrique from Metz, drove back the invaders, killing a great number. These examples will suffice to give some idea of the admirable use which the Germans made of their cavalry, to conceal their movements, harass the enemy, and, above all, gain priceless information, while the adversary, whose horse were idle, could obtain none. The dash made by Margueritte to relieve Pont à Mousson is the one solitary instance of alertness shown by the French, and even he and his troopers were withdrawn, leaving the river line above Metz wholly unprotected, and the bridges unbroken!

[p 142]
The Germans March on the Moselle.

From these wide-ranging enterprises, conducted by keen and resolute soldiers, the Great Staff obtained nearly as minute a knowledge of the French proceedings as they possessed themselves, and were enabled to direct the march of the German Armies with firmness and precision. Their great object was to secure the unguarded line of the Moselle by seizing, as rapidly as possible, all the points of passage above Metz, and the only doubt entertained at head-quarters was suggested by the apprehension that the energy displayed by the cavalry might attract attention to these undefended spots. Accordingly, while the First Army, again, was ordered to protect the right of the Second, by advancing on the Nied, taking up ground between Pange and Les Etangs, the Second was to move upon the Seille, and endeavour to secure the bridges at Pont à Mousson, Dieulouard and other places, sending the cavalry once more in force over the stream. Von Moltke’s calculation was that if the French attacked Von Steinmetz, Prince Charles could form up and threaten their flank; if they tried to operate against the Second Army by ascending the Moselle, Von Steinmetz could then assail them in line of march, as they must cross his front; while if passing through Metz they moved up the left bank, Prince Charles could effect a junction with the Crown Prince, and Von Steinmetz could cross the Moselle and attack the French rear. The combination was strong, but the Emperor, as we have stated, had then no idea of assuming the offensive in any direction, his only anxiety being to seek a temporary shelter behind the Meuse.

Throughout the 13th, the German Corps, horse and foot, sprang forward, displaying that alacrity and hardihood which had marked their conduct from the outset of the [p 143] war. The Dragoon brigade of the Guard swooped down upon Dieulouard, and finally sundered the direct railway communication between Chalons and Metz. Two other cavalry brigades, forming the 5th Division, entered Pont à Mousson early in the morning, and were followed by half the 10th Corps from Delme. In order to hide, as far as possible, the movements of the Second Army, an entire division of cavalry, the 6th, was employed; one brigade extending from Courcelles sur Nied, to Borny on the Moselle, and the other posted at Verny supporting the front line, and linked itself by patrols to the 5th at Pont à Mousson. The 1st Division of Cavalry, during the forenoon, crossed the Nied at Pange, and occupied the villages to the right and left, so that a continuous line of mounted men stretched from the Nied to the Moselle. Behind this barrier, the several Corps toiled forward in full security. At the close of the day, however, only one-half the 10th Corps was over the Moselle, the other moiety being one march to the rear; the head of the 3rd Corps stood at Buchy; the 9th at Herny; the 12th at Chemery; the 2nd, now complete, at St. Avold; the Guard at Lémoncourt, and the 4th at Chateau Salins.

By this time, the Third Army, except the 6th Corps, and the Baden Division which had been directed upon Strasburg, had made its way through the defiles of the Vosges, had emerged into the valley of the Upper Saar, and was, therefore, in direct communication with the Second Army; so that the German host occupied a wide region extending from Sarrebourg to villages in front of Metz; yet at the vital points the Corps stood near enough to support each other should it be necessary to assemble on a field of battle. The passage of the Vosges had been obstructed only by nature and the forts of Bitsche and Phalsbourg. These were turned, and the hardships of [p 144] cross roads and restricted supplies had been overcome. The divisions trickled through the valleys on a broad front, gathering up as they touched the Saar and the country of lakes about Fenestrange. As Phalsbourg did not command the railway, that important highway fell into the hands of the Germans. The tunnels in the Zorn valley west of Saverne had not been destroyed, and the whole line was complete, yet it could not be used for the transport of troops and stores until a later period. On the 13th, when the First Army was closing in on the French outside Metz, and the Second heading for the Moselle, the Third quitted the Upper Saar, and, once more expanding, approached on a broad front the valley of the Meurthe. During the next day, when their comrades were hotly engaged with the enemy, they reached the banks of that stream, and their forward cavalry rode into the streets of Lunéville and Nancy, the old capital of Lorraine. At this critical moment, Marshal MacMahon was hastening to Chalons; De Failly, after having been ordered hither and thither from hour to hour, had received final orders—he was to join the Marshal; but Douay’s 7th Corps, although Dumont’s Division had arrived, increasing the total to about 20,000 men and 90 guns, had not yet been, and was not for three days, directed from Belfort upon the great camp in the plains of Champagne.