arisen in the discussion of the comparative strength of the two armies—­especially without the British batteries—­the French lacked heavy long-range artillery.  They had no such howitzers as those of the German forces.  Thus the Germans could shell Rheims to their hearts’ content, and the Allies could not silence that gunfire from their own fortified positions.  Once more, then, it became a battle between infantry and artillery, between men and machines.

This time, however, the advance was not favorable to the Germans.  Their heavy artillery commanded Rheims, but it did not command the French line to the west of Rheims.  The invaders performed prodigies of valor.  Again and again they hurled themselves against the French line.  But General Foch’s troops were well supplied with that terrible engine of destruction—­the French 3-inch fieldpiece, known, as the 75-mm., an extremely powerful gun for its caliber.

In four successive night attacks on September 19-20, 1914, the heaviest onset was made.  Supported by a terrific gunfire, directed with the long pointing fingers of searchlights, the German infantry, invigorated by a week’s rest; rolled up in gray-clad tidal waves against the French line.  General Foch had known how to post his defense, and within twenty-four hours he had made the line between Pouillon and the Mountain of Rheims almost as strong as the German line between Brimont and Nogent l’Abbesse.  Poor Rheims lay between, wide open to the eruption of destruction that belched from the throats of the German howitzers.

* * * * *

CHAPTER XXIV

END OF THE BATTLE

After September 22, 1914, there was a lull in the fighting at Rheims, and as afterward appeared, this was due mainly to another change of plan on the part of the German Staff.  But it was no part of General Foch’s intentions to leave the bombardment of the cathedral unrevenged.  He had, indeed, caused an unparalleled slaughter on the night of September 19, 1914, as has been stated, but his troops were avid for reprisal and the French strategist knew well how dangerous it is to allow an army, eager for action and revenge, to eat its heart out vainly.  He was too wise to run the risk of a countercharge, but four days later his opportunity came, and he took advantage of it to the full.

At dawn on September 26, 1914, a detachment of 15,000 Germans, including all that remained of the famous Prussian Guards Corps, that same body that had fought so marvelously on many occasions, and which had suffered the most cruelly in the affair of the marshes of St. Gond, made a sortie from the base line at Nogent l’Abbesse to destroy the railway line between Rheims and Verdun, this line was, indeed, the principal link of communication to that all-important fortress that protruded its bristling salient into the heart of the German position.  A French aviator, who had climbed into his machine