CHAPTER IV.

But although this Carolus Patriotus was thus allegorically announced to

be the victor, his country still suffered for a long time at the hands

of its rulers. Disaffection and jealousy, increased in many places by

the disinclination of the discontented ones to relieve themselves

honourably of their burdens, caused certain practices to arise in Erinia

or Ireland, which only aggravated the reigning misery.

A custom called “boycotting” prevailed, whereby all those who were

suspected or proved to be unpatriotic were deprived of all communication

with those who might possibly be induced to do business with them.

People caught conveying food or other necessaries to boycotted persons

were ruthlessly shot, and very often horrible cruelties were perpetrated

upon harmless cattle, in order to show that their owners had fallen

under the ban.

Morality became a thing unknown in the country. Farms and houses were

rented from landholders, who had no other source of income, by people

who meant to live upon the produce of the land, but who were resolved

not to pay anything for the privilege. This was accounted quite an

honourable thing to do, and the worst crime of which an Irish farmer

could be accused of being guilty was “paying his rent.”

Murder was an excusable necessity, but rent-paying was a crime

punishable by death. Hence landlords found no encouragement to prove

themselves deserving of confidence. Whole estates went to rack and ruin.

The really earnest reformers found it impossible to fight longer against

the prevailing misery, and emigrated in large numbers, so that the

country at last fell into a state of complete anarchy.

There were many politicians whose sole exertions were directed towards

securing to Ireland privileges which would put it on an equal footing

with the sister isle, but other troubles fell upon Great Britain, and,

as had often happened before, the affairs of Ireland were set aside in

order that other grave difficulties might be grappled with.

Several British colonies and dependencies became alienated. The whole of

the Australian dependencies threw off the yoke of England. The French

became the ultimate possessors of Newfoundland, owing to the supineness

of the Government to which it looked for protection. A treaty between

the United States and France was the means of robbing England of Canada,

and in order to prevent the loss of further slices of the Empire, Great

Britain was obliged to maintain a large standing army and navy.

There were a great many republicans in the House of Commons, and these

people always played upon one string. They urged that all the troubles

and worries of the English had their origin in the huge sums of money

which were paid to the Royal family, which ever grew more exacting and

rapacious in its demands for money. So powerfully did the republicans

appeal to the nation that many of the royalists began to consider the

situation anxiously, and feared lest the reigning dynasty should be

dethroned, and England be turned into a republic.

Others, however, considered that so much had been done to conciliate the

Germans and Scots, who were both brave and of great skill in warfare,

that an alliance with them could be safely counted upon in the event of

a civil war breaking out.

Meanwhile France was also the scene of great political changes. The

people had once more tired of the republic, and, with their usual

extremeness, had once more rejoiced at the coronation of an Emperor.

Bourbonists, Orleanists, and Bonapartists were alike powerless in the

election of a supreme ruler, and their respective claims were all set on

one side in favour of an obscure adventurer, who, emulating Napoleon,

had used the army as the step-ladder for his ambition. The French

nation, jealous of the fast-increasing power of its big German

neighbour, gladly placed in supreme command a man who, among other

things, promised to make the hated Teuton lick the dust.

Russian Autocracy was fast becoming a thing of the past, but Germany

steadily grew in power, until it threatened to emulate the days of

Charlemagne, and engulph all the countries between which it was

sandwiched.

Such was the condition of some of the principal countries of Europe when

the Irish, resolved no longer to “groan under the yoke of the

oppressor,” formed themselves into a secret society which embraced

nearly all the nation; held many clandestine meetings, at which all

manner of dark things were plotted; and finally invoked the aid of

France in a grand fight which they were going to make for independence

and freedom.

France readily agreed to the alliance, the proposal having apparently

come at a most opportune time. The French always thirst for power; they

are somewhat credulous as a nation; and are so vain as to be continually

overestimating their own might and prowess. Add to this, that their

Emperor was still new fledged, and still had to fulfil his promises of

aggrandizement, and it will readily be believed that there was little

difficulty in persuading France to become Ireland’s ally in her crusade

against England.

Not that France was honestly bent upon unselfishly befriending another

country. It was thought that, once firmly fixed on Irish soil, with an

army in occupation, it was simply a question of changing the absolute

rulership of the Emerald Isle in favour of Gallia. Certain emoluments

and prerogatives were to be given to the principal Irish leaders, as a

sop to Cerberus, but the principal plums of conquest were to be reserved

for Frenchmen, as soon as “_Albion la perfide_” was fairly vanquished.

Glorious visions of coming wealth and greatness filled the minds of the

thousands who, led by the brand-new Emperor himself, swarmed into

Ireland, and prepared, in conjunction with their red-hot allies, to

smash England’s greatness into infinitesimal fragments. Naturally the

army was _fêted_ and entertained, but it was unfortunate that so much of

the product of the native distilleries should have been consumed in

drinking confusion to their enemies, for Bacchus always was, and always

will be, a treacherous friend, and he had something to answer for

respecting the ruin, utter, black, and entire, which erelong overtook

his votaries.

As England’s statesmen had foreseen, they were able to count upon mighty

aid from the Scots and Germans, and in their opinion the issue of the

forthcoming struggle was a foregone conclusion. But Germany had to be

very wary and circumspect, for Russia and Austria considered this a

capital time to combine with France and bring about the disruption of

the big German Empire. There was even a treaty signed, by virtue of

which the three allied emperors were to share Germany very equitably, in

event of conquest.

They counted upon Switzerland remaining neutral, but were slightly taken

aback when Italy’s army, which was now a very large one, was placed at

the disposal of England and Germany, thus enabling the latter country to

render powerful help to England, without imperilling its own safety very

much.

The war did not last long. When Ireland struck the blow for liberty,

both Irish and French fought well; the former goaded by desperation and

a desire for revenge; the latter by cupidity and vain-gloriousness. But

their valour was futile, and there came a day when their united forces

were utterly vanquished, and scarcely an Irish or French soldier was

left to show that there had once been a united army.

Fortunately for himself, the Emperor was slain in battle. Otherwise,

with nothing but a list of ignominious defeats to show in what manner he

had been able to keep his brilliant promises, he would have been

disgraced by a nation that was once more enraged at having shown how

huge was its capacity for being duped.

It soon transpired, however, that the residue of the French people had

need to think of something else besides avenging failures. The enemies

of France seized their opportunity; invaded it; conquered it; and

divided it, undeterred by the pusillanimous threats of Russians and

Austrians, who judged it wisest not to take to arms when the situation

of France grew so desperate.

Thus did France cease to be an independent European power, and thus also

were finally exterminated the Irish as a nation, for they were brave,

and did not yield, so long as a man could fight.

In England there was great rejoicing, and so many honours were heaped

upon Germans and Scots, that there was not an opening left for an

Englishman to lift himself into prominence. The Government of the

country gradually fell entirely into the hands of these aliens, and

Englishmen formed so small a minority of the population that a proposal

to change the name of the country from England to Teuto-Scotland was

placed before Parliament, and carried by acclamation.

All record of England, so far as its constitutional policy was

concerned, finished here, and I know not whether a ruler in the direct

line of succession remained upon the throne, or whether a republic was

the immediate outcome of all these changes or not. I learnt

subsequently, however, from the lips of Hilda, that at the time of my

visit to New Amazonia, the chief officer of state in Teuto-Scotland was

a “People’s Agent,” who only remained two years in office, and was then

replaced by such successor, either male or female, as might be elected

by universal suffrage.

New Amazonia: A Foretaste of the Future · 第 4 / 17 章