the 24th the whole army had reached the prearranged line Jenlain-Bavai-Maubeuge--the Second Corps to the west of Bavai, and the First Corps to the right. The right was protected by the fortress of Maubeuge, the left by the cavalry, operating outwards, and by the Nineteenth Infantry Brigade, which had been brought up in the nick of time from the lines of communication, and had acted throughout the day in support of the exposed flank of the Second Corps.

It had been intended by the British Commander-in-Chief to make a stand on the Maubeuge line, and if the first calculations of the enemy's strength and intentions had proved correct, it is possible that a great battle might have been fought here, and continued by the French armies along the whole fortress line of northern France. Even as it was, the temptation to linger at Maubeuge must have been strong; it offered such an inviting buttress to our right flank, and filled so comfortably that dangerous gap between our line and the French. The temptation, to which a weaker commander might have succumbed, was resisted. "The French were still retiring," says the despatch, "and I had no support except such as was afforded by the fortress of Maubeuge; and the determined attempts of the enemy to get round my left flank assured me that it was his intention to hem me against that place and surround me. I felt that not a moment must be lost in retiring to another position."

Early on the 25th, accordingly, the whole British Army set out on the next stage of its retreat. Its function in the general Allied strategy was now becoming clear. It was not merely fighting its own battles. Situated as it was on the left flank of the retiring French Armies, it had become in effect the left flank-guard of the Allied line, committed to its retirement, and to the protection of that retirement, to the end. The turning movement from the west, at first local and partial, had suddenly acquired a strategic significance. It threatened not merely the British Army, but the whole Allied strategy of the Retreat. Could the British resist it? Could they, at the least, delay it? These were the questions which the French leaders asked themselves, with some anxiety, as they retired with their armies from day to day, and waited for the counter-turn which was to come. For, as we now know, behind the retiring and still intact French Armies, to the south and east of Paris, movements were shaping, forces were forming, which were to change the face of things in this western corner. Could the British hold out till these movements were ripe? It was a momentous question. No more momentous question has been asked for a hundred years. The answer, so far, had been affirmative.

On this day, the 25th, from very early in the morning, the two corps marched south on each side of the great Forest of Mormal, the First Corps to the right and the Second to the left, as one faces the enemy. The position chosen for the next stand was in the neighbourhood of Le Cateau, on the line Cambrai-Le Cateau-Landrecies, and while the army was marching towards it, civilian labour was employed to prepare and entrench the ground. On this morning, also, the infantry of the Fourth Division, which had arrived at Le Cateau on the 23d and 24th, became available for service, bringing a welcome addition to our strength of eleven battalions. They were immediately sent forward, and, facing north-west between Solesmes and the Cambrai-Le Cateau road, materially assisted the retirement of the Second Corps. For both corps it was a day of terrible marching, along roads crowded with transport and--particularly on the eastern route--packed with refugees. For marching in a retreat has this fundamental disadvantage, that the men move behind their transport, and (in friendly country) with all the civilians of the countryside about their feet. In such conditions a steady pace is the last thing to be hoped for. Checking--the curse of tired men--from being the exception becomes the rule; while the hours crawl on, and the boots tell, and the packs tell, and the eye grows glazed with staring at the men in front, and even the rifle, that "best friend," seems duller and heavier than a friend should be--the heaviest nine pounds in the world. It is calculated that on the 25th the various units of the Second Corps marched, under these most trying conditions, anything from twenty to thirty-five miles. By this time, also, the continual retirement was having its effect on the men's spirits. To the rank and file, who necessarily know nothing of high strategy, and see only what is before their eyes, the Retreat carried little of that high significance which we attach to it, but much of weariness and distaste. Some glimmering of an idea that we were "leading the Germans into a trap" cheered men up here and there; some rumours of Russian victories raised the old jokes about "Berlin"; but for the most part they marched and fought uncomprehending, welcoming their turn of rear guard as a relief, because it gave some chance of fighting and turned their faces to the north.

The Second Corps reached their appointed line on the Cambrai-Le Cateau road as night was falling, and, under a cold, steady rain, which had succeeded the blazing heat of the day, proceeded to improve the trenches which they found there. They had had an exhausting march, but little fighting or interruption. The First Corps was delayed and did not reach the allotted position; but was scattered by the evening over an area at some points as many as thirty miles from the Second Corps, and nowhere nearer than Landrecies, eight miles from Le Cateau. The difficulty of movement had been increased by the convergence of French troops retiring from the Sambre, who cut across our line of march. The enemy pressure was continued by fresh troops well into the night. The engagement of the Second Division south and east of Maroilles, and the fight of the Fourth (Guards') Brigade at Landrecies, are the two main incidents in this difficult night's work. About the fighting near Maroilles we have little information except that it seemed serious enough to justify the British Commander-in-Chief in asking for help from the French. In response to his urgent request two French reserve divisions attached to the Fifth French Army on our right eventually came up, and by diverting the attention of the enemy enabled Sir Douglas Haig to effect a skilful extrication from an awkward position made still more awkward by the darkness of night. One incident of the fighting near Maroilles has, indeed, slipped into the light of day with regard to a unit of the Second Division: a little rearguard action of the First Berks, near a bridge over the Petit Helpe which it was important to hold. They were on their way back to it, stumbling in the dark along a greasy, narrow causeway, with a deep ditch on each side, which led to the bridge. "The Germans, as it turned out, had already forced the bridge and were in the act of advancing along the causeway; and in the pitch darkness of the night the two forces suddenly bumped one into the other. Neither side had fixed bayonets, for fear of accidents in the dark, and in the scrimmage which followed it was chiefly a case of rifle-butts and fists. At this game the Germans proved no match for our men, and were gradually forced back to the bridgehead, where they were held for the remainder of the night." Early in the morning the Germans withdrew, and the First Berks fell back on the rest of the Second Division, along the road to Guise. It was a very complete and satisfactory little affair.

The fight at Landrecies by the Fourth (Guards') Brigade is better known. They had arrived there, very weary, and had got into billets; so weary, indeed, that the Commander-in-Chief could not order them farther west, to fill up the gap between Le Gateau and Landrecies. "The men were exhausted, and could not get farther in without rest." The enemy, however,