Anglo-French artillery, and routed by bayonet charges thrust
home with incredible ferocity. The German Headquarters Staff,
receiving these reports from all parts of the line, must have had many
moral shocks, undermining their pride and racking their nerves.
Perhaps one day we shall read the history of those councils of war
between the German generals, when men who had been confident of
victory began to be haunted by doubt, hiding their fears even from
themselves until they were forced to a gloomy recognition of grave
perils. Some of these men must have wept and others cursed, while
Von Kluck decided to play again for safety, and issued an order for
retreat. Retreat! What would the Emperor say in Berlin where he
waited for the prize of Paris and heard that it had slipped from his
grasp? How could they explain the meaning of that retreat to the
people at home, expecting loot from the Louvre and souvenirs from
Paris shops?

Some of the officers thought these things--I have read their letters--
but General von Kluck must have had only one dominating and
absorbing thought, more important even than an Emperor's anger.
"Gott im Himmel, shall I get this army back to a stronger line or shall I
risk all on a fight in the open, against those French and British guns
and almost equal odds?" The failure of the German centre was the
gravest disaster, and threatened von Kluck with the menace of an
enveloping movement by the Allied troops which might lead to his
destruction, with the flower of the Imperial troops. Away back there on
the Aisne were impregnable positions tempting to hard-pressed men.
Leaving nothing to chance, the Germans had prepared them already
in case of retreat, though it had not been dreamed of then as more
than a fantastic possibility. The fortune of war itself as well as
cautious judgment pointed back to the Aisne for safety. The allied
armies were closing up, increasing in strength of men and guns as
the hours passed. In a day or two it might be too late to reach the
strongholds of the hills.

5

So the retreat of the German right wing which had cut like a knife
through northern France until its edge was blunted by a wall of steel,
began on September 5 and increased in momentum as the allied
troops followed hard upon the enemy's heels. The great mass of the
German left swung backwards in a steady and orderly way, not losing
many men and not demoralized by this amazing turn in Fortune's
wheel. "It is frig