The Siege of London (Posteritas)/Chapter 10
GREAT SUFFERING OF THE FRENCH ARMY.—BITTER WEATHER.—ANOTHER FRENCH FORCE LANDS AT CARLISLE.—MORE FIGHTING.—SPLENDID CHARGE OF THE ENGLISH, WHO, HOWEVER, ARE OUTNUMBERED.—EXTRAORDINARY STRATAGEM AT SOLWAY FRITH.—CARLISLE GARRISONED BY FRENCH.—BRILLIANT DEFENCE OF DERBY.—THE FRENCH AMAZED BY THE STUBBORN-NESS OF THE PEOPLE.—BLAZING PETROLEUM CARTS.—FEARFUL SCENES.
THE French Commander-in-Chief knew perfectly well that, being in a hostile country, his march would be a difficult one, but he could scarcely have anticipated the opposition he everywhere met with. From the North to Edinburgh his troops had suffered greatly by the predatory attack of scattered foes; now as he went south, towards Carlisle, it seemed as if every hill, every wood, every ravine suddenly produced men by magic. They started up from the heather, and bounded down from the rocks, and with weapons of all kinds, from rifles to reaping-hooks, they threw themselves on the flanks of the advancing army, and slew scores before they themselves were slain. They gave no quarter, and asked for none. Home, hearth, country, all were at stake, and they fought with the desperate determination of sinking despair. On the other hand, the invaders gave themselves up to sack and slaughter. The hereditary hatred of the French for the British displayed itself in a spirit of destructiveness that was actually barbarous. Following the example set by the Germans, in 1870, when France herself was trodden under the heel of the invader, the French Commander formed a flying corps of Light Cavalry, similar to the Uhlans. These men spread themselves over the face of the country, requisitioning the towns and villages, destroying the railways and telegraphs, and obtaining information of the movements of the English troops.
The Northern English army had fallen back towards Carlisle, where it was resolved that another stand should be made, but on gaining the border they were amazed to find themselves face to face with another powerful French force, which had disembarked at Carlisle, after a successful engagement in the Irish Channel between the convoying squadron and a fleet of British coast defence vessels manned by naval reserve men. This new force of invaders was composed of the very flower of the French army, and consisted of the Guards and Chasseurs, the Hussars and Cuirassiers, and were under the command of a new commander-in-chief, who was one of the most distinguished generals of the day.
The English thus found themselves between two forces; but, true to their traditions of never being able to recognise defeat, they showed no signs of surrender, but, forming themselves into squares with the utmost precision, they received the whole body of French cavalry with such a tremendous fire that they were thrown into confusion, and taking advantage of this, the Scots Greys were pushed forward, and they charged with such impetuosity that the lighter French horsemen went down before them, and were hacked to pieces by the long and heavy English sabres. This gallantry would certainly have turned the fortunes of the day in favour of the English, had they not been so greatly outnumbered. But the French brought up masses of men from both their armies, and the Greys would have been cut to pieces had they not been promptly supported by the Carabineers and the King's Dragoon Guards, which, dashing in splendid style at the enemy, drove him to flight. The French infantry was immediately charged by the whole body of British dragoons. Squares were formed, and their file fire was well maintained, but the weight and size of the British troop horses bore down their resistance. On the English side the feeling was predominant that the reverse on the Union Canal must be revenged, while the French, on their part, were beginning to lose confidence at the disaster which had befallen their cavalry, and the steadiness of the infantry was shaken, and something very like a panic occurred, when, in their desperation, the English hurled themselves against the squares, and broke them. The splendid valour of the English was not destined, however, to be of much service; for French Cuirassiers and lightly-mounted Hussars swept down on the British flanks. Then a regiment of Zouaves, with their peculiar savage yell, rushed forward with fixed bayonets, while the other French infantry divisions followed them silently and sedately in close columns on the right and left of the British line, which commenced to retreat in good order. They were not charged, but a regular fire was kept upon them which they returned. The French were amazed that a numerically weaker army, that had already suffered defeat, and which was now practically surrounded, should thus show such stubborn and dogged resistance. Then occurred what perhaps never before occurred in the history of warfare. The two opposing armies, one being nearly treble the strength of the other, were actually moving in parallel lines and yet the weaker one not only showed no signs of surrendering, but continued to keep its foes at bay.
No greater devotion, no more splendid courage, and no more magnificent military skill have ever been displayed than this extraordinary march of the English; and it certainly atones for the errors made at Edinburgh. Late in the afternoon the English reached the Solway Frith, and instantly a number of fishermen placed themselves at the head of the British columns to conduct them across by means of the sand-banks, with which they were well acquainted. The tide was rising, and a few inches of water sufficed to obliterate the traces of their winding course. The French columns attempted to follow, but found it impossible without guides to keep from sinking into the quicksands, and none of the fishermen on the beach could be tempted by any amount of money to lead their foes across. The retreating English thus secured breathing time, and the French were compelled to march round the head of the Frith to Carlisle.
Finding no British troops there, and having ascertained that the remnants of the shattered British northern army which had escaped by crossing the sands were on their way south by train, the French commander determined not to halt longer than was necessary for all his forces to come up. He had lost heavily at the "Battle of Carlisle," for 630 had been killed and 2,000 wounded; while the British losses were 410 killed and about 1,300 wounded.
Leaving a garrison behind in Carlisle, together with all his wounded and his prisoners, the French commander pushed on to co-operate with the invaders from the south in opening the projected siege operations, the aim being to reach London before any great number of troops could be concentrated in the capital. The French marched rapidly, considering their numbers and their impedimenta. They went through Cumberland and Westmoreland, into Yorkshire, and thence on to Derby. On the road they met with no opposition or annoyance beyond what an irritated population could show; the country was denuded of troops, regular and irregular, for they had all been ordered to rendezvous at London. The spirit of hostility on the part of the people seemed to culminate at Derby, where it found vent in a tremendous outbreak of patriotic enthusiasm and wrath. Peasants and labourers in the field called down curses upon the heads of the invaders, but the townspeople of Derby displayed their animosity in a more practical way. When it was announced that the French were marching on Derby, 300 navvies were set to work by a committee of the citizens to open a wide ditch in the centre of the road for about 100 yards, and this was filled with barrels of gunpowder with the heads knocked in, and quantities of guncotton and dynamite. This was all covered over with large blocks of stone, and on the top of that again a layer of dirt to give the road its usual appearance. This deadly mine was connected by electric wires with the town, and as the French approached and were passing over that part of the road the mine was fired. The effect was appallingly awful, and the air was filled with the mangled remains of men and horses, while hundreds of soldiers far in the rear were wounded and killed by the large stones from the mine falling upon them. This unexpected catastrophe brought the invaders to a halt, and the commander ordered his men to encamp in some fields, having first succoured the many wounded and comforted the dying. Outposts were stationed round the camp, and sentries were doubled everywhere. After nightfall had set in, the harassed and weary soldiers were startled at seeing lurid lights approaching the camp, while the rattle of wheels and the thundering of horses' hoofs filled the air. Then from various quarters maddened horses tore into the camp dragging after them carts filled with barrels of blazing petroleum and methylated spirits. The wretched animals had been first headed for the enemy's camp and then saturated with the blazing liquid, and allowed to go on their agonising and fiery way. Many of these carts were capsized and the spirit ran along in blazing rivers. Some of the tents were set on fire, and men were fearfully burned, while the air was rendered suffocating by the dense volumes of black smoke that rolled across the face of the sky like a funeral pall.
This bold and original mode of carrying on warfare cost the French many lives both in officers and private soldiers, while the cavalry and artillery horses, taking fright at the smoke and the flaming carts, broke into a stampede, and added to the general horror and confusion, so that the camp was for a time completely disorganised.
When the morning broke on this fearful scene of suffering and death, the Commander-in-Chief sent forward a strong column to summon the town to surrender. He had determined on holding this place in force as being an important strategical position owing to its proximity to Manchester, Liverpool, and other large towns. Derby, however, was not disposed to surrender without a struggle, and her gallant people returned for answer to the summons a volley of grape and canister, discharged from a battery of volunteer artillerymen. The French, therefore, had no alternative but to carry the place by assault. Then ensued much desultory fighting. The defence not being regular, the consequence was there was great slaughter on both sides, But the town that had made such a brave struggle for its life and liberty fell at last, and the invaders not only sacked it, but committed horrible cruelties. A brigade of infantry and two battalions of field artillery were left to hold it, and the main body of the army continued its march on London; but its strength was diminished by 830 wounded, and nearly a thousand killed in these operations against the stubborn town of Derby.
A feeling of shuddering despair now ran through the length and breadth of the land, for all indeed seemed doomed to be lost. Great Britain’s first defence,—her navy,—had failed her in her hour of need, and a pitiless enemy was tightening his grip upon the country. The people might and still would struggle desperately for their freedom, but their heroism now could do little more than display to the world how a brave people could die, defiant to its latest breath.