From a ridge on the Stratford Road, near Monkspath Street, heavy Russian artillery opened fire just before dawn, and played terrible havoc with the British guns, which on the sky-line opposite afforded a mark. As time crept on there was no cessation in the thunder on either side, while away along the valleys a most bloody encounter was in progress. The whole stretch of country was one huge battlefield. British and Russians fell in hundreds, nay, in thousands.
The losses on every side were appalling; the fortune of war trembled in the balance.
CHAPTER XIX
FALL OF BIRMINGHAM
The battle outside Birmingham was long, fierce, and furious. No more desperately contested engagement had ever occurred in the history of the British Empire. From the very first moment of the fight it was apparent that the struggle would be a fearful one, both sides possessing advantages; the British by reason of the magnificent defensive positions they occupied, and the Russians by reason of their overwhelming numbers. Against a defending force of 50,000 of all arms, 150,000 invaders — the majority of whom were Russians — were now fighting, and the combat was necessarily long and deadly. British Volunteers were conspicuous everywhere by their bravery; the Canadians rendered most valuable assistance, firing from time to time with excellent precision, and holding their position with splendid courage; while the Irish Brigade, who had moved rapidly from King's Cliffe by train and road, and had arrived in time, now held their own in a position close to Kingsheath House.
Many of the principal buildings in Birmingham had during the past day or two been converted into hospitals, amongst others the Post Office, where the trained nurses received very valuable assistance from the female clerks. A train full of British wounded was captured early in the evening at Barnt Green. It contained regular troops and civilians from the Stratford force which had fallen back to Alcester, and the train had been sent on from there in the hope that it would get through before the enemy were able to cut the line. This, however, was not accomplished, for the Russians inhumanely turned out the wounded and filled the train with their own troops and ammunition. Then, under the guidance of a Birmingham railway man of French nationality who had been acting as spy, the train proceeded to New Street Station. It was impossible for the officials at the station to cope with the enemy, for they had only expected their own wounded, or they would, of course, have wrecked the train by altering the points before it arrived in the station. The Russians therefore detrained, and, led by their spy, made a dash along the subway leading to the lifts ascending to the Post Office. These were secured, and the Office was soon captured by the Russians, who not only thereby obtained a footing in the very centre of the town from which there was not much chance of dislodging them before Birmingham fell, but they had also obtained possession of the most important telegraph centre for the North and Midland districts of England.
Before the first flush of dawn the whole of the country from Kings Norton right across to Solihull was one huge battlefield, and when the sun rose, bright and glorious, its rays were obscured by the clouds of smoke which hung like a funeral pall over hill and dale. For a long period the principal Russian battery on the Stratford Road was short of ammunition, and, seeing this, the strong British battery at Northfield moved quickly up into a commanding position at Drake's Cross, not, however, before it had been considerably weakened by the Russian fire from Bromsgrove Lickey. During this time, however, detachments of Canadian marksmen had been detailed with no other purpose than to sweep the Russian road at the exposed points of its course, and to fire at everything and everybody exposed on the ridge. This was most effective, and for quite half an hour prevented any supply of ammunition reaching the enemy, thus giving the British battery an opportunity to establish itself. At length, however, both batteries of defenders opened fire simultaneously upon the Russian guns, and so thickly fell the shots, that although ammunition had by this time been brought up, the enemy's power in that quarter was completely broken.
From that time the fierce struggle was confined to cavalry and infantry. Troops of Cossacks, sweeping up the banks of the Arrow, encountered British Hussars and cut into them with frightful effect. The defenders, fighting hard as the day wore on, hindered the enemy from gaining any material advantage, though the latter forced the outer line of the British shelter trenches on the slopes below the position of King's Norton. The Canadians had laid mines in front of their trenches, which were exploded just as the head of the Russian assaulting parties were massed above them, and large numbers of the Tsar's infantry were blown into atoms.
Bullets were singing along the valleys like swarms of angry wasps, and the Russian losses in every direction were enormous.
Hour after hour the fighting continued. The British held good positions, with an inner line of defence across from Selly Oak, Harborne, and Edgbaston, to the high crest on the Hagley Road, close to the Fountain, while the Russians swarmed over the country in overwhelming numbers. The frightful losses the latter were sustaining by reason of the defenders' artillery fire did not, however, disconcert them. But for the huge right column of invaders advancing on Birmingham by way of Acock's Green, it seemed an even match, yet as afternoon passed the firing in the valley swelled in volume, and the mad clamour of battle still surged up into the blue cloudless heavens.
The enemy could see on the sky-line the British reinforcements as they came up from Halesowen by the road close to their battery on the bare spot near the edge of their right flank, and it was decided at four o'clock to deliver a counter flank attack on the left edge of the British position, simultaneously with a renewed strenuous assault by the tirailleurs from below. Soon this desperate manœuvre was commenced, and although the marching ground was good, the British guns swept them with their terrible fire, and hundreds of the Tsar's soldiers dyed the meadows with their blood.
It was a fierce, mad dash. The British attacked vigorously on every side, fought bravely, straining every nerve to repulse their foe.
The battle had been the most fiercely contested of any during the struggle, and in this desperate assault on King's Norton the Russians had suffered appalling losses. The valleys and slopes were strewn with dead and dying, and a bullet had struck the British commander, mortally wounding him. As he was borne away to the ambulance waggon, the last words on that noble soldier's lips were a fervent wish for good fortune to the arms of the Queen he had served so well.
But the British were, alas! outnumbered, and at last retreating in disorder, were followed over the hills to Halesowen and utterly routed, while the main body of the enemy marching up the Bristol and Pershore Roads, extended their left across to Harborne and Edgbaston. Meanwhile, however, the guns placed on the edge of the city along the Hagley Road near the Fountain, and in Beech Lane close to the Talbot Inn, as well as the Volunteer batteries near St. Augustine's Church and Westfield Road, opened fire upon the advancing legions. The two lower roads taken by the enemy were well commanded by the British guns, and the Volunteers, with the Canadians and Irish, again rendered most valuable assistance, everywhere displaying cool and conspicuous courage. The walls of the new villas along the Hagley Road, Portland Road, and Beech Lane had been placed in a state of hasty defence, and rifles bristled everywhere, but as the sun sank behind the long range of purple hills the fight was in the balance. The British, as they stood, could almost keep back the foe, but, alas! not quite.
There was soon a concentric rush for the hill, and as the cannons thundered and rifles rattled, hundreds of the grey-coats fell back and rolled down the steep slope dead and dying, but the others pushed on in face of the frowning