CHAPTER I_The Vampire of the Continent

THE VAMPIRE OF THE CONTINENT

COUNT ERNST ZU REVENTLOW

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN

WITH A PREFACE

GEORGE CHATTERTON-HILL, PH.D.

NEW YORK

THE JACKSON PRESS

1916

BERLIN

BY THE JACKSON PRESS

NEW YORK

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE v

I. THE “HEROIC AGE” OF THE BRITONS. SIXTEENTH CENTURY 1

II. THE PIOUS PIRATES. SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 15

III. THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE “ENEMY OF PEACE.” ERA OF LOUIS

XIV 29

IV. “WE HAVE CONQUERED CANADA IN GERMANY.” FREDERIC THE GREAT

AND ENGLAND 40

V. THE PROTECTOR OF NEUTRAL COUNTRIES. THE LIBERATOR OF

EUROPE. SECOND HALF OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY 51

VI. THE GREAT HARVEST. THE NAPOLEONIC WARS 78

VII. ENGLAND DIGESTS HER BOOTY. THE CONTINENT GRADUALLY BECOMES

UNRULY. 1815–1890 101

VIII. ANGLO-GERMAN FRIENDSHIP AND ESTRANGEMENT AFTER BISMARCK’S

DEPARTURE. 1890–1895 121

IX. “AND IF THOU WILT NOT BE MY SERVANT....” FROM 1895 TILL

THE ENTENTE CORDIALE 132

X. DELENDA GERMANIA. THE BEGINNING OF KING EDWARD’S REIGN 155

XI. EDWARD VII PREPARES THE HUMILIATION AND DESTRUCTION OF

GERMANY. 1905–1908 159

XII. THE INCENDIARY AT WORK. THE CAMPAIGN AGAINST THE GERMAN

NAVY 171

XIII. KING EDWARD’S UNSUCCESSFUL ATTEMPT TO SET THE NEAR EAST

ABLAZE. THE BOSNIAN CRISIS 178

XIV. THE CATASTROPHE IS MORE CAREFULLY PREPARED. 1909–1914 197

TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE

Count Ernst zu Reventlow’s book “The Vampire of the Continent,” of which

I have much pleasure in presenting a considerably abridged English

edition to American readers, cannot be too strongly recommended to all

those who desire to obtain an insight into the hidden recesses of

European political history, where the forces are at work which have

shaped the evolution of Europe since about the middle of the sixteenth

century. It is the first systematic attempt to go to the root of things,

to lay bare the developmental forces in question that have escaped the

attention of partial or insufficiently clearsighted historians up till

now. With rare penetration and skill does Count Reventlow show all such

forces to find their synthesis in England’s Will to Power—to use an

expression coined by Nietzsche—in England’s insatiable greed, in her

limitless craving for the riches of this world. The center-point of

European history during the last 350 years is to be found in London. It

is here that have been spun all the threads of the countless political

intrigues, the result of which has been to turn the palaces and cottages

of Europe alike into shambles, her sunny fields and pastures into a

desert deluged with human blood. And, meanwhile, the barns and granaries

of England were filled with corn, her warehouses with goods of all

descriptions from all corners of the globe; her factories and workshops

poured forth their products with quadrupled energy; her warships prowled

along the ocean highways, stealing all they could lay hands on, whether

it belonged to friend or foe or neutral; and her trading vessels

transported her manufactured articles to all countries, draining the

wealth of the latter in exchange, and filling the pockets of the British

merchant with gold.

The more greatly Europe was impoverished, the more did England’s wealth

increase. Therefore has England stirred up wars innumerable, in which

she has herself taken practically no part, in order to ruin Europe

economically, morally, and politically. Therefore has she always sought

to prevent by all means the rise of any prosperous European State

capable of competing with her in the markets of the world. She knew

that, as long as she ruled the seas, Europe was helpless, and that the

monopoly of the oversea trade belonged to her. Therefore did it become a

fundamental principle of hers to destroy mercilessly the sea power of

every nation, as soon as this sea power showed signs of growing to an

extent such that England’s “maritime supremacy” would be threatened.

Founded on piracy, the British Empire has been built up at the expense

of humanity. The English commenced by robbing the Spanish

treasure-ships—acts of murderous and dastardly brigandage which are held

up to Englishmen to-day as deeds of prowess. They continued by robbing

Canada and the States from the French, Gibraltar from the Spaniards,

India from the French and the Portuguese, South Africa from the Dutch,

Egypt and Cyprus from the Turks, Malta from the Italians—and last, but

not least, Ireland from the Irish. Over the whole world we can follow

the trail of the venomous serpent, which has fastened its deadly fangs

into so many victims. Over the whole world we hear the cry for vengeance

and for redemption.

The great merit of Count Reventlow’s work is that of showing us the

history of Europe in its true light. Pitilessly has the historian here

torn to shreds the garment of hypocrisy in which the English seek to

clothe themselves; spurred on by the sole desire of impartiality

searching for the truth, he has rent asunder the veil which they have

thrown over the real history of the world with a cleverness equalled

only by their unscrupulousness. England is here exposed to the reader in

all her hideous nakedness, with not even a rag to cover her sores; in

the cold, unshaded light of facts she appears before our eyes—no longer

as the “Liberator,” but as the Vampire saturated with the blood of its

victims, as the Shylock gorged with ill-gotten wealth, as the Parasite

grown fat on the marrow of the bones of all the peoples of the earth.

Count Reventlow’s book is not only a book to be read; it should be

re-read many times, pondered on, slowly and carefully digested; the

great lessons it teaches us should be engraved in our minds. When the

world has grasped the central truth taught by all the facts of its

history during the last 350 years or thereabouts—the truth, namely, that

Europe has never been considered by England as anything else but an

instrument adapted to increasing the latter’s wealth and power: then

only can the salvation of the world be hoped for.

Spain, Holland, France, who, all of them, defended the interests of

Europe against England, have been vanquished. But the victories of

England were never obtained by England herself. Physical courage,

endurance, organisation, are not characteristics of the Vampire.

England’s victories were obtained by Europe against Europe. From the

outset England succeeded in trading on the ignorance and stupidity of

Europe; admirably did she understand how to wave red cloths before the

eyes of the European bulls, skilfully goaded to fury by her; equally

admirably did she understand how to enthrall them with sententious

phrases about “liberty” and “justice,” even as the mermaids of old

enthralled unsuspecting mariners by means of their divinely sweet

melodies. The English Mermaid bewitched Europe with her Song of Liberty;

and only too late has Europe discovered that it was a Song of Death.

But has she discovered it? We fear the truth is only just beginning to

dawn. France at any rate does not yet perceive that she is being bled to

death for the sake of England, who employs her to-day against Germany,

even as she employed Germany against Louis XIV and Napoleon in former

centuries. France, Belgium, Russia, Italy, are to-day England’s

instruments. By means of them does she hope to destroy Germany and

Austria-Hungary; but she also hopes that by destroying these, they will

have eo ipso destroyed themselves. The whole of Europe will thus be

drained to the last drop of blood, exhausted, ruined; and on those ruins

will England’s trade flourish anew. The harvest reaped as the result of

the Napoleonic wars will be reaped again.

Such was England’s calculation. It was a mistaken one. For the first

time in her history since the Elizabethan period, England has

miscalculated her chances. Grievously miscalculated them! Germany has

to-day assumed the glorious task of liberating the world from the

clutches of the British parasite. She it is who continues the great

mission of Napoleon, who takes up the sword dropped by him, and which

France, unfortunately, is to-day unwilling to wield. In this great war

everyone must take his part—for it is a struggle between light and

darkness, between truth and lies, between manly vigor and parasitical

cowardice, between civilisation and barbarism. Germany, the champion of

the light and the truth, against the power of darkness and mendacity!

Under such circumstances, to sit on the fence would be contemptible. And

those who cannot fight with the sword must fight with the pen.

Germany, in fighting for her own existence, is fighting also for the

liberation of the world. The great day of liberation will surely come,

sooner or later. The _conditio sine qua non_ of that liberation is the

destruction of England’s maritime supremacy. For as long as England

rules the waves, humanity must remain her slave. This is a fundamental

truth. And another fundamental truth is that England’s maritime

supremacy cannot be destroyed until IRELAND IS A FREE COUNTRY.

The one criticism which can be levelled against Count Reventlow’s

admirable work is that it has not sufficiently insisted on this second

great truth. As long as Ireland remains a British colony—or, rather, a

British fortress—England can at any time shut off the whole of Northern

and Eastern Europe from all access to the ocean; even as, by means of

Gibraltar and Port Said and Aden, she can close the Mediterranean.

Ireland is the key to the Atlantic. Release Ireland from her bondage,

and the Atlantic is at once opened up to Europe.

Therefore must Ireland be restored to Europe, if Europe is to be free.

An independent, neutral Irish Nation would be the natural bulwark of

European liberty in the West. The freedom of Europe depends on the

freedom of the seas; and the freedom of the seas depends on the

liberation of Ireland.

We hear a lot about Ireland’s helplessness and poverty. And it is

nothing but trash accumulated by England’s scribes and hirelings.

Ireland, the most fertile country in Europe; Ireland, whose flourishing

industry was deliberately destroyed by England; Ireland, whose

civilisation reaches back far beyond the Christian Era into the dim

twilight of the ages, and whose missionaries carried, during the early

Middle Ages, the torch of learning and piety all over Western and

Central Europe; Ireland, who, in the nineteenth century alone, whilst

artificially-made famines wrought havoc amongst her children, furnished

one thousand million pounds sterling to her oppressor for investment in

the latter’s world policy; Ireland, whose sturdy sons, broken on the

wheel of misery, were decoyed to the number of 2,000,000 during the

nineteenth century into England’s army of mercenaries; Ireland, whose

geographical position makes of her the connecting link between Europe

and America, and whose forty harbors to-day lie empty and desolate at

England’s behest; Ireland, whose economic and biological wealth has

formed the basis on which the whole structure of the British Pirate

Empire has been reared:—Ireland is a rich country, rich by reason of her

economic resources, and rich by reason of the incomparable moral

qualities of the Irish race.

Europe has too long forgotten Ireland, too long has she shut her ears to

Ireland’s cry of distress. And to-day the most far-sighted of her

thinkers and statesmen recognise that the secret of Europe’s future

destinies lies embedded in the green isle of Erin.

In his great speech in the Reichstag on August 19th, 1915, the German

Chancellor, Herr von Bethmann-Hollweg, said: “The welfare of all peoples

and nations demands that we obtain the freedom of the seas, not—as

England has done—in order to rule the latter ourselves, but in order

that they may serve equally the interests of all peoples.” The words

spoken by the Chancellor prove that Germany understands the nature of

the immense historical task incumbent on her; and we may confidently

believe that she likewise realises the conditions under which alone this

task can be satisfactorily accomplished.

Despising the foul calumnies and the impotent vituperation of England’s

scribes, Erin waits calmly and confidently for the great day of her

liberation. The best proofs of her invincible strength—proofs which no

English lies can suppress—she carries within her bosom: namely, her

Existence and her Faith. Alone against the most powerful empire in the

world since the days of Rome, Ireland has survived. The British Butcher

has tried in vain during three centuries to exterminate her; and yet,

just before the war broke out, he was forced to hold out his gory hands

in a vain attempt to coax the victim he had intended to strangle. Her

race, her religion, her traditions, her language—Ireland has maintained

them all, and yet no foreign help has been hers since the days of

Napoleon. Often has she been deceived, but none the less is her faith

to-day stronger than ever. For England’s difficulty is Ireland’s

opportunity. These who, to-day, are intently listening, can hear the

groan of an empire staggering under the blows rained mercilessly upon

it—they can hear, as if borne on the wings of Time, a music like unto a

distant death-knell, tolled by bells of the future cast by German hands,

strong, swift, undaunted.

And meanwhile voices are calling to us, voices from the grave, the

voices of our dead—of the martyrs who died for Ireland,—sacred voices

that we hear both waking and in dreams, and that bid us watch and pray

and be of good cheer, for the Green Flag of Erin is to-day unfurled in

the whirlwind alongside of the Black, White, and Red.

G. C.-H.

Geneva, September MCMXV.

THE VAMPIRE OF THE CONTINENT

CHAPTER I

THE “HEROIC AGE” OF THE BRITONS

SIXTEENTH CENTURY

The average German considers the destruction of the Spanish Armada to

have been a great and noble deed of liberation, for which the world owes

an eternal debt of gratitude to England. This is what the German is

taught at school, and this is what he reads in innumerable historical

works. Spain, and above all the Spanish King Philip II, desired to force

the whole of Europe into submission to the Catholic Church, and to

prevent the development of the spirit of freedom. And behold! The Virgin

Queen sends forth her fleet, and the world was saved: _afflavit Deus et

dissipati sunt_. At the call of the Deity arose the mighty storm, which

scattered the ships of the oppressor.

We may well ask the question as to when these epoch-making events will

be revealed to the young German in another light? The naked reality of

historical facts shows the matter to have had a very different aspect.

About the year 1500 Spain and Portugal were the two World-Powers.

According to a decision of the Pope, the globe had been divided by a

line of demarcation into two halves, of which the one belonged to Spain

and the other to Portugal. Viewed in the light of those times, this

somewhat naïve division of the globe was not an unjust one. The great

discoveries of the preceding century had been made by Spain and

Portugal, and they had opened out immense perspectives. Neither Power,

however, grasped the fact that what was necessary to enable them to

maintain their world-empires was not a mere Papal decree, but an ample

armed force. They neglected their fleets; only too late did they

perceive that in the North of Europe a nation had arisen, which

instinctively recognised in piracy on the high seas the instrument

adapted to its need of expansion. That nation was England.

Not a single Englishman is to be found among the pioneers who prepared

the way for the great discoveries of the fifteenth and sixteenth

centuries. Neither do we find among the English any record of journeys

like those accomplished by the Vikings of old—journeys undertaken for

the sole pleasure of adventure, and of exploring unknown and distant

regions. We find, on the other hand, alike in the English nation and in

its rulers, an extremely shrewd comprehension of the value of gold and

silver—a comprehension already highly developed at that period. The news

of the incredible wealth derived by Spain and Portugal from those

oversea possessions which the genius of their citizens had permitted

them to discover, gave the English chronic insomnia. They had themselves

neither discovered nor taken possession of anything. What, therefore,

more natural for them than the idea of stealing from others what these

others possessed? The idea was, indeed, the more natural, seeing that

Spain and Portugal had neglected to build up their fleet. Thus began, as

British historians solemnly tell us, the “heroic age” of the English

people. It was an age characterised by organised piracy and highway

robbery; which was at first tolerated, and subsequently sanctioned, by

the English sovereigns—especially by the Virgin Queen, the champion of

Protestantism.

English piracy sailed under the flag of Protestantism, and of the

liberation from Rome. Leaders such as Hawkins, Frobisher, and Sir

Francis Drake fitted out expeditionary fleets and sailed over the ocean

to the Spanish and Portuguese possessions in America. But their favorite

trick was to lie in waiting for the Spanish ships filled with gold and

silver, which they captured and brought in triumph to England, where

these pirates were welcomed by Queen and people as champions of the

Protestant faith, no less than of civilisation and progress. Or else

they sailed to Spain herself,—without ever war having been declared,—and

flung themselves like a pack of hungry wolves on the vessels at their

moorings in Cadiz or Vigo, which they promptly robbed, burnt, and sank;

they then destroyed docks and warehouses, and massacred everyone they

could find. This went on for years. But woe betide any “naval commander”

who dared to return home without a rich booty in gold, silver, or

colonial produce! Even if his life was spared, he could be sure of a

long term of imprisonment, and of the lasting dislike of the Queen. In

return for their heroic efforts on behalf of religious freedom, the

English wished to have at least plenty of ships filled with gold and

silver.

Spain at last resolved to put an end to English piracy, and the Armada

was built. The English did not succeed in preventing the construction of

the Spanish fleet by their attacks on Spanish ports, and by burning

docks and vessels at anchorage therein—albeit Drake destroyed 150 ships

and an immense quantity of provisions in Cadiz in 1587. The following

year Philip of Spain endeavored, by means of the Armada, to punish the

English pirate nation, and to ensure once for all the safety of Spanish

property. The unsuccessful result of the expedition is well known; we

would only recall the fact that the Duke of Parma was waiting with an

army in the Spanish Netherlands, and that a fleet was at his disposal in

order to permit of his rejoining the Armada, and of landing in Great

Britain. England did not adopt the only attitude suitable for her,

namely that of the ambushed highway robber—but adopted instead the

attitude of a defender of the Protestant faith. We still read to-day, in

English history books, that Philip of Spain fitted out the Armada in

order to force the doctrines of Catholicism down the throats of the

English. The good Continental Protestants were full of admiration for

the sacrifices endured by England in order to prevent a disaster to the

pure doctrine.

All the fundamental principles of Great Britain’s insular policy were

manifested during the long years of war between England and Spain—war

which resulted finally in the destruction of the Armada, and the

complete upsetting of the plan to invade England by way of the

Netherlands. British policy, from the earliest times of British

expansion, has always remained the same, even if (according to

Clausewitz) it has subsequently adopted different means for attaining

its ends.

When English sailors, under the protection of the Queen or on her

suggestion, systematically pounced upon Spanish property; when they

attacked, in time of peace, the Spanish coasts, or Spanish ships on the

high seas, or Spanish oversea possessions, there was never any sort of

question of British rights, or of legitimate British interests, or of

the defence of British homes, or of the protection of the Protestant

faith. The English simply coveted that which others possessed; and they

were angry that others had it, and not themselves. Above all things they

wanted gold. Not only the ancient English historians, but also the

modern ones, admit this as something which is self-evident. Whenever an

English “naval commander” cruised during months, or even years, on the

high seas, in order to capture a fleet of Spanish galleys carrying gold

and silver; when, in the midst of peace, he undertook a marauding

expedition against Spanish or Portuguese ports, in order to rob, burn,

and massacre to his heart’s content, he was received on his return as a

hero of the Protestant faith—provided he had been successful. If he came

home with empty hands, he was despised. The “treasure-ships,” i. e.

galleys laden with gold and silver, play an extraordinary part, which

the German reader can at first hardly understand, in the descriptions of

that “heroic age.” But the ambitions of the English heroes of the faith

were not limited to the ships alone; with the sure instinct of the

bandit _de grand style_, they soared beyond them, as far as the

countries from which the precious metal came. Drake’s “voyage around the

world,” which is still admired in Germany as the deed of prowess of an

idealistic pioneer of civilisation, was nothing else than a thieves’

raid. Admiral Freemantle wrote a few years ago concerning it: “Drake

undertook an extensive cruise, in the course of which he burnt and

plundered the wealthy coast towns of the Spanish colonies, beginning

with Valparaiso, the capital of Chili. He continued his journey, seizing

all the treasures he could lay hands on.... He returned to Plymouth in

triumph, the first Englishman who had sailed round the world, and laden

with a million of pounds’ worth of booty. Honored by his Queen, beloved

of his countrymen, he then put to sea once more, in order, as he

expressed it, to singe the King of Spain’s beard. This time he left

England, not as a private adventurer, but as an English Admiral, backed

up by the authority of the Queen.”

Drake embodied the English ideal of heroism, and still embodies it

to-day. The form alone under which that ideal incorporates itself has

altered, although even the alteration of form is less great than is

generally supposed.

Throughout English history, and up till the present day, we can trace

the constant application of three methods: firstly, destruction of the

means which the nation whom it is intended to rob possesses for

protecting its property on the seas and oversea—i. e. its fleet,

harbors, docks, etc.; secondly, the seizure or destruction of the

trading vessels of such a nation. When these aims have been realised,

England lays hands without further difficulty on that nation’s oversea

possessions. It is to be observed, that this policy and this method of

warfare depend in the last instance for their success on the weakening

of England’s continental rivals. When the sea power of the latter has

been broken, the colonies fall off automatically, so to speak.

For the first time in English history we now see, during the Elizabethan

period, the relations between England, on the one hand, and the

Netherlands and Belgium, on the other, clearly delineated. The

Netherlands, as we know, formerly included Holland and Belgium, and

belonged entirely to Spain till 1579; after this date Holland became

independent, while Belgium remained in Spanish hands. From the

beginning, England viewed the Spanish Netherlands as a dangerous outpost

of the Spanish world-empire. She did everything she could to assist the

Netherlands in their struggle for liberty, and to detach them from

Spain. The London Government hoped, in this case, to have a weak state

at the other side of the Channel and the North Sea—a state naturally

inclined to be serviceable to England. The planned invasion of the

latter by a Spanish army stationed in Holland, has become, for British

statesmen, a never-to-be-forgotten nightmare. From that day on the

decision was taken, never to allow Belgium and Holland to come under the

influence of any Power save England. As soon as the sea power of Spain

had been broken, England’s interest was absorbed by a new problem: how

to prevent the Netherlands from becoming themselves a strong Sea Power.

If England came to the help of the Netherlands in their struggle against

Spain, she did so, of course, under the pretext of defending the cause

of Protestantism. The real reason, however, was to prevent any nation

with sea power behind it from obtaining property and influence at the

other side of the Channel. It is very conceivable that the English

statesmen of those days did not first enunciate this principle as a

theory, and put it subsequently into practice. On the contrary, they

invariably acted in accordance with the requirements of practical

necessity. Neither must the experiences be forgotten, that England had

made in the course of many centuries during which her ambition had been

to become a Continental Power. She had tried hard to obtain rights of

property on the French coast, and in the whole of France. If England

finally abandoned her efforts in this direction, it was because she

recognised that her insular position, in regard to European nations, far

from being a weak one, was very strong. As a consequence of this

recognition, arose her growing dislike to the despatch of English troops

to the Continent. Her fighting forces must be kept in the country, so as

not to sacrifice them except on very favorable occasions. The

destruction of the Spanish Armada entailed the recognition of another

great truth: namely, that an invasion of England was not to be feared,

as long as the English fleet retained the mastery of the sea. A

corollary of this truth was, that every continental fleet must be

considered to be a potential enemy of England’s prosperity and safety;

and, further, that the danger must be considered to increase in

proportion as the harbors serving as a basis for such a fleet are near

to the English coasts.

In this way did English statesmen come to the decision to employ on the

Continent, as far as possible, foreign soldiers to fight England’s

battles; for the native troops, as we have said, must be kept in the

country. The only possibility of applying such a decision in practical

life, lay in inducing the Continental Powers to let their armies fight

for England’s interests. In order to carry out this policy it was

indispensable that the Powers in question should be made to believe

that, in combating England’s enemies, they were at the same time

defending their own interests, if not their own existence. Henceforth

were the main lines to be followed by English policy in its dealings

with the Continent, definitely laid down. The means adopted for pursuing

that policy were made to depend entirely on two factors: the

circumstances of the moment, and the adversary to be dealt with. From

the very outset it was tacitly admitted that nothing could be so

disadvantageous for the realisation of English aims, than harmony among

the Continental States, i. e. peace in Europe. Peace must inevitably

bring about increased prosperity; and the consequence will be the growth

of the sea power of Continental nations, alike in the waters in the

neighborhood of England, and on the ocean. Sea power is the typical

expression of the inner strength and unity of a nation—of a strength

which must expand abroad because it cannot find adequate employment

within the limits of the mother country. But it was precisely this

growing prosperity of the European Continent of which England had no

need!

Very early did the English Kings come to understand the value of

industry for a country. As the English mind was not productive in this

domain, skilled workers were, in the later Middle Ages, systematically

recruited abroad. The manufacture of cloth, weaving, mining, ironwork,

machinery, dyeing—all these industrial arts were brought to England by

German, Dutch and French artisans. In this way was the incapacity of the

English people compensated for. The narrowness of mind, quarrelsomeness,

and intolerance of the Germans proved very useful in this respect; all

the dissatisfied or persecuted German artisans went over to England. The

stream of emigrants grew constantly larger as a result of the wars of

religion. The English industry was slowly developed behind the

impregnable wall of a prohibitively high tariff. As long as trade and

industry and art were able to flourish in Germany, England was wholly

unable to compete with them; for the German products were immeasurably

superior to the English ones. But when the Empire decayed in strength as

a consequence of political and religious dissensions, industrial and

commercial regression likewise set in; and England did everything she

could to hasten the downfall. Whilst England was undertaking, during the

sixteenth century, the freebooters’ war against Spain of which we have

already spoken; whilst she was thereby increasing her sea power to such

an extent as to become, at times, the mistress of the ocean;—during this

time the power of the German Hansa was broken, and the last emblem of

the latter’s former greatness, the Hanseatic Steel Court in London,

disappeared in the last years of the sixteenth century.

During one hundred and fifty years English ships continued to carry out

the policy of burning, murdering, and stealing immense treasures which

were taken off to England; all this was done in the name of religion,

and more particularly of Protestant freedom. The Germans, meanwhile,

were busy slaughtering each other, and dissolving their empire in

religious strife; the Thirty Years’ War turned the once prosperous

country into a desert, and annihilated the whole of that flourishing

industry which had been the admiration of the world. England fanned to

the utmost possible extent the flames of German religious strife. The

English were pious people—especially the English Kings and Queens; they

were of opinion that the Germans were perfectly justified in

transforming their own country into a cesspool of human blood, for the

glory of God and of the Protestant faith. In this manner was England

spared the disagreeable necessity of fighting a dangerous competitor.

The German wars of religion, the hopeless want of unity among the

Germans, were among the important factors that contributed to the

establishment, in later times, of the English monopoly of trade and

industry. The stolen gold of Spain and Portugal, on the other hand,

constituted the basis on which the future edifice of English capitalism

was reared. English capital, in turn, admitted of goods being

manufactured and delivered cheaply; and this cheapness rendered

subsequently all competition with British industry impossible. Soon the

home market was not sufficient, and English goods were brought to other

lands under the protection of the English fleet, mistress of the seas.

At the end of the sixteenth century the East India Company was founded.

Twenty years later England stole from the Portuguese the important

commercial center of Ormuz, in the Persian Gulf. An English historian

remarks drily that “this action marks the beginning of our supremacy in

those waters.” The same historian writes: “An attempt was made to obtain

possession of the Spanish colonies in Germany and Holland by means of a

sudden raid. The enterprise failed owing to the unskilful leadership of

the Earl of Mansfield. After this failure, the English Court applied all

its resources to the fitting out of a fleet, in order that Cadiz might

be sacked, and the Spanish treasure-ships captured.” Great was the grief

and anger in England when the unsuccessful raiders came back

empty-handed from their excursion to Holland.

In the course of her “heroic age,” England laid the foundations of her

future supremacy; she did so by means of brigandage and theft, of

violence and treachery, after she had perceived the strength of her

insular position and had learnt how to utilise that strength. Her rulers

had recognised the value of a national industry, and had understood the

means best calculated to favor its growth.

The English of those days were by no means supermen. They were not more

intelligent than other nations; on the contrary, during the era of

discoveries they discovered nothing, and during the era of inventions

they invented nothing. But they understood the art of ploughing their

fields by means of stolen oxen. And that which very clearly

distinguished them from every other European people was the greed of

lucre as the fundamental mainspring of action.