ENGLAND DIGESTS HER BOOTY—THE CONTINENT GRADUALLY BECOMES UNRULY
1815–1890
England did not wish to leave the Continent any time to organise
resistance to her commercial policy. Once Napoleon had been rendered
harmless—in fact from the very moment when the battle of Waterloo
developed into a great Prussian victory—we find her alongside of France.
England restored to France the latter’s King, who had resided on English
soil; she concluded the long-foreseen agreement with Talleyrand; and
thus, in conjunction with Russia, did she re-arrange the map of Europe.
It was customary in Prussia in those days, and it is still customary
to-day, to criticise the incapacity of the Prussian representatives at
the Congress of Vienna, and to repeat the words of Blücher: “the pen has
gone and lost everything which the sword had won.” In itself, the
criticism is perfectly justified; but the responsibility for what took
place at the Congress of Vienna cannot be ascribed solely to the
Prussian diplomatists. The fact of the matter was that the Great Powers
wished neither a strong Prussia nor a strong Germany to arise. The
letter written, before the War of Liberation, by Baron Stein to the Earl
of Munster (the British statesman), appears to us to-day almost touching
in its simplicity: “My desire is to see Germany great and strong, so
that she may regain her nationality and her independence, and maintain
them in her position between France and Russia.” But that was just what
no single European Power desired, least of all England. For the latter
knew that a strong, united Germany would constitute an important factor
in the world’s industry, and would no longer be at the mercy of English
manufacturers and merchants. It must be noted, further, that the
spectacle of another nation growing in strength and prosperity has
always been extremely distasteful to the Englishman. At first the
English diplomatists let the Sovereigns of Europe amuse themselves with
discussions concerning Legitimacy; for in this way could the nations be
deceived as to their real interests. “Legitimacy” proved itself to be
something excellently adapted to the interests of France—and of France
only; thanks to the wonderfully skilful use made of this new
rallying-cry by Talleyrand, the land of Napoleon was able, despite its
defeat, to take up a relatively strong position. England, whilst
pretending to be wholly disinterested, kept Malta and Gibraltar; but she
gave back a few colonies to France. All the more energetically did
England insist upon the territories which border the North Sea and the
Channel being distributed in the manner most agreeable to her. Prussia
was compelled to hand over her ancient province East Frisia to Hanover,
the latter being, we must remember, a sort of English fief on the
Continent. Prussia was thus without a single port on the North Sea.
England further succeeded in persuading the Congress of Vienna, through
the agency of the Duke of Wellington, to unite Holland and Belgium—under
the pretext that Belgium, left to herself, would be crushed by France.
The British Prince Regent hoped in this way to bring both countries
entirely under England’s influence. The fact that the Belgian provinces
had formerly belonged to the German Empire was, of course, wholly
ignored; and much less still did it occur to anyone to revise the Treaty
of Westphalia. Under England’s influence—which remained, however, as
unobtrusive as possible—the Congress succeeded in shutting Prussia off
completely from the North Sea, albeit without Prussia Napoleon would
never have been crushed. Prussia was placed, as a result of the
decisions of the Congress, in so unfavorable a geographical position,
that she was nearly rent asunder into two separate parts; the task of
defending her frontiers in West and East was thus rendered as difficult
as could be. Denmark kept Schleswig-Holstein, and basked once more in
the sun of England’s favor; for she henceforth held Prussia in check,
seeing that she commanded the entry to the straits. Each of the States
forming the German _Staatenbund_ was granted the widest possible
autonomy, in the well-founded belief that this was the most efficacious
way of preventing the formation of a United Germany.
For all these misfortunes, the Prussian diplomatists were less
responsible than the European Powers under England’s leadership, all of
which were interested in preventing the development of a strong Prussia
and of a united Germany. The shutting off of Prussia from the North Sea
was a far-sighted and highly important manœuvre on the part of England.
The unification of Holland and Belgium under England’s “guardianship”
held out the prospect of still more important consequences. We have
followed up the development of England’s policy towards both those
countries ever since the Dutch war of independence against Spain; and we
have noted England’s uninterrupted efforts to prevent them from getting
on intimate terms with any of the seafaring Continental Powers, the
reason being that the Dutch and Belgian coasts are washed by the North
Sea and the Channel. In the Treaty of Vienna England tried to go another
big step forward, and to convert the Independent United Netherlands into
an outer fortification of the British Isles. It would be more correct to
say that Belgium, and especially Antwerp, was to become a basis of
operations on the Continental side of the Channel for a British invading
force. Had this plan proved itself, in the course of time, susceptible
of realisation, Great Britain would have had, not only as an insular but
also as a continental Power, an incomparably strong position. Guardian
of the United Netherlands, she would have been far less vulnerable than
she was in the days of yore, when she conquered Northern France. For in
the case of the Netherlands there would have been no question of
conquest; the Netherlands would have become England’s vassal, whilst
retaining their independence.
However friendly she might be with France, England took her precautions
in the South of Europe. The Sardinian question was settled in accordance
with English wishes, and the Republic of Genoa was united with the
Kingdom. In this way did England succeed in erecting a barrier against
France on the one hand, and against Austria on the other; a barrier was
likewise erected at the same time between France and Austria. Sardinia
was obliged to rely always on British help, and the port of Genoa
constituted the link between the Kingdom and Great Britain. In addition
to all this, England’s power in the Mediterranean was well assured by
the possession of Malta.
Great Britain’s world-position was greater, stronger, and more
influential, than ever, after the Napoleonic wars. Her warships ruled
the seas, and no other nation could even think of challenging British
maritime supremacy. The British fleet was regarded as not only
invincible, but as irresistible. Europe had been persuaded that her
“liberation” was due to that fleet. For the first time for many
centuries, England had no “enemy” on the Continent, for the simple
reason that she needed none. The weakened and exhausted Continent lay at
the mercy of John Bull, and the latter did not hesitate to exploit it.
Especially was this the case with the German States, which were
separated from each other by a wall of prohibitive tariffs, but whose
markets were unreservedly open to foreign countries. France was clever
and experienced enough to continue protecting her industry even after
the fall of Napoleon. In this way did the break-up of the Continental
Blockade have a destructive effect on the industry of several German
States, during many years; all the more so as the English Government and
English merchants alike had recourse, with their usual absence of
scruples, to corruption and other dishonorable means for crushing German
industrial competition _ab ovo_. The superstitious veneration which was
entertained in Germany up till a comparatively recent date for all
“genuinely English” products, dates back, for the main part, to that
time.
The era of great battles on the plains of Europe was over. But a time of
political unrest in the interior of the various European States set in;
this unrest reached its culminating point in the explosions of 1848.
Such unrest was a source of particular satisfaction to England, for it
weakened and disorganised all her Continental rivals.
Down to the time of the Crimean war (1855), the Eastern question
remained veiled in considerable obscurity; England, Russia, Turkey,
France, and Austria-Hungary played a curious and very complicated game
of political and diplomatic chess. This game was still further
complicated when Mehmed Ali appeared on the scene, and marched on
Constantinople. It is impossible, within the limits of the present work,
to dwell on those events. We must content ourselves with describing, in
general terms, the part played by England. The latter did not wish to
see any of the Continental Powers in possession of Constantinople; and
she also wished to prevent by all means an alliance between the Porte
and any of the Powers. It was from these two considerations that English
policy derived its principle of the “maintenance and independence” of
Turkey. That policy, on the other hand, aimed at drawing Turkey as much
as possible into the meshes of Great Britain’s net; in this way Turkey
could be conveniently played off against France or Russia, as the
occasion required it. Being herself an insular Power, England needed the
services of a Continental Power in all Eastern matters. According as
time or circumstances dictated, Austria-Hungary or France was selected
for this honor; but Russia was not disdained either if the occasion
required it. During the period of Mehmed All’s insurrection, English
policy had three distinct aims in view: firstly, to prevent Mehmed Ali
from capturing Constantinople; secondly, to prevent the
development—desired by France—of intimate relations between him and the
French Government; thirdly, to prevent him concluding an alliance with
the Sultan, and thus strengthening the Porte. Great Britain’s anxiety
concerning France was not unfounded; for the French had turned their
eyes towards Egypt. In all these lengthy quarrels, the decisive word was
spoken by the all-powerful British navy. The old English principle,
according to which every opportunity should be seized upon in order to
destroy all foreign fleets—whether the latter were peaceful or hostile
at the moment of destruction did not matter: this principle proved
extremely valuable. Its utility (from the English point of view) had
been manifested in 1807, at the moment of the theft of the Danish fleet.
Thus did it come about that, at the instigation of Great Britain, the
Turkish fleet was destroyed “by mistake” at Navarino. An allied
Anglo-Franco-Russian fleet sailed in 1824 to Navarino, where the Turkish
fleet lay. An agreement had been made whereby negotiations should take
place with the Turks, and it had further been resolved by the allied
commanders not to open fire unless the Turks did so. Suddenly a shot was
fired, and it has never yet been ascertained on which side; but the
English declared that it was the Turks who had fired it. The result was
the destruction, or rather the massacre, of the wholly unprepared
Turkish fleet. The English Admiral had already received his instructions
from London, but in the British Parliament all this was, of course,
denied. The English Prime Minister even gave utterance to the memorable
words: “The destruction of the Turkish fleet was an untoward event.” But
“unfortunately” could things not be changed! Mehmed Ali’s future fleet
had been partly annihilated, partly captured by the English, whose
ships, in turn, occupied with success the ports and harbors of Syria.
Both at that time and also in later years, the limits of sea power have
been very clearly demonstrated in the Near East. England was in a
position, thanks to her navy, first of all to protect and coddle the
new-born Kingdom of Greece, and subsequently to humiliate and bully it.
This changeable attitude was kept up until King Otho’s successor, who
was related to the English royal family, ascended the Greek throne. It
was, again, her navy which permitted England to assume the rôle of
“guardian” of growing Italy; and this navy it was, also, which caused
the cunning policy of Napoleon III in the Mediterranean to collapse. But
the aspect of things changed, as soon as the center of gravity of the
Eastern conflict was removed to the Continent. It then became necessary
for England to buy a “continental sword”; with the Power employed as
such, England co-operated cheerfully until there was no further need of
the former’s services. The tool was then cast aside.
Russia was, during the first half of the nineteenth century, fully aware
of this fact, and pursued her policy of expansion accordingly. Her
object, as usual, was Constantinople and the Dardanelles. Her ambitions
led to the Crimean War, in which France and Italy were the auxiliaries
of Great Britain. The Crimean War was badly managed, and the English
performances at sea were likewise lamentable; especially those of the
Baltic squadron, to which was entrusted the task of attacking the
Russian coasts and of destroying the Russian fleet. But the consequences
of the Treaty of Paris proved that England alone had profited by the
war. The antagonism between France and Russia—antagonism which had been
increased by the conflict—was destined to cost France dear not long
afterwards. On the other hand, England had obtained, in conjunction with
France, the neutralisation of the Black Sea and the closure of the
Dardanelles and Bosphorus. Nothing shows better who was the real winner
in this war, than the fact that the French were particularly anxious to
conclude peace rapidly; whereas England, by raising perpetually new
questions during the negotiations in Paris, and by seeking up till the
last moment to create complications, endeavored to prevent peace being
concluded.
Prussia had taken no part in the Crimean War, despite the strongest
English pressure, despite threats and insults. Her abstention was one of
the first great political acts of Bismarck. The latter recognised that
it would have been folly for Prussia to show hostility to Russia in
those days.
The Prussian-German Customs’ Union was, from the beginning, a thorn in
the side of the English. Its foundation had been combatted by all
possible means, and the efforts directed towards the protection of
German industry had been denounced as an “unfriendly act” against
England. Nothing was left undone, either by the British Government or by
its accredited and unaccredited agents, in order to fight and to
intrigue against the proposed Union in every German State. There are
certainly few things which can be more legitimately included in the
category of a country’s “internal affairs,” than the settlement of their
mutual economic interests by the German States. But England had, in the
most cunning manner, arranged, at the Congress of Vienna, for Germany to
become an object of economic exploitation, and had imagined that matters
would always remain thus. Knowing its own unassailable position, the
British Government overdid things. Especially did the elevated English
duties on wood and corn, which were arbitrarily modified in London,
place German production and shipping in an ever more untenable
situation; on the other hand, British industry continued to throttle
German production, and to deprive the latter of its rightful profits.
When Lord Palmerston was at last ready to give way, and offered, amongst
other things, a reduction of the English duties on wood, it was too late
and there remained nothing for the noble lord to do but to submit and
accept the _fait accompli_.
Another event had, during the thirties, spoilt Great Britain’s game:
namely, the separation of Holland and Belgium, whose reunion England had
been foremost in bringing about at Vienna. Belgium had separated herself
from her Northern neighbor, for that which cannot be united cannot be
held together. English policy recognised this fact, and quickly decided
to “make as good a job of it” as possible. The European neutralisation
of Belgium was the consequence. As the historian Louis Blanc wrote:
“England kept the diplomatic scepter in her hand, and exploited the
Belgian revolution to her own advantage.” Belgium’s neutrality was
directed solely against France, because England was convinced that the
French would seize the first opportunity of bringing Belgium under their
influence. In view of the state of affairs existing at the present
moment, it is interesting to observe that the Treaty of Neutrality was
concluded exclusively on account of France, whose ambitions it was meant
to restrain. England hoped, by inducing the European Powers to
participate, under her own leadership, in the guarantee of Belgian
neutrality, to reserve for herself the possibility of organising, if
need be, another coalition against France. De facto the newly created
Kingdom of Belgium was entirely under British influence; it became
England’s advanced post on the Continent, the outer line of her
fortifications. And no one in Europe could prevent this.
During that period France was the “enemy”; and a remarkable parallel can
be traced between the events which then occurred, and those which have
taken place within the last quarter of a century—events which we will
consider later on. In the fifties Great Britain succeeded in utilising
her “enemy” against Russia in the Crimean War; she induced France to
sacrifice her troops and warships, and to weaken herself generally, for
the sake of British interests. At the same time, both during that war
and previously to it, Great Britain was everywhere busy working against
France—and especially in Egypt. Shortly after the war she enticed France
into the Mexican adventure, and then, as usual, retired from the scene
herself, as soon as the stone had been set rolling. Great Britain’s
object was to create difficulties between France and the United States,
by bringing the former into conflict with the Monroe Doctrine; she
further wished to weaken France in Mexico, and to discredit Napoleon in
France. The plan succeeded brilliantly. Within recent times it was
intended to use the German Empire against Russia in the same way as
France was used sixty years ago.
Great Britain found it impossible, during the sixth decade of the last
century, to stem the flowing tide of German unity. The reasons for this
were, firstly, the superiority of Bismarck’s diplomacy and political
genius; secondly, his fearless determination; and, thirdly, the fact
that purely Continental interests were at stake. During that curious
period of European political development, Bismarck was the only
statesman whose will was strong and unbending, and who knew exactly what
he wanted.
The far-sightedness of English statesmen had recognised, early already
in the sixties, that the power of Napoleon was on the wane. They
observed with satisfaction that the Emperor of the French was constantly
obliged to seek the creation of new “stage effects,” in order to
maintain his prestige, and to consolidate the throne for his successor.
At the same time Napoleon’s policy never ceased to be a cause of
uneasiness for England; and the Suez Canal enterprise roused John Bull
to violent indignation. How could a Continental Power dare to construct
a canal joining up two seas, and thereby render a great British ocean
highway valueless? We know how Disraeli’s business talents subsequently
succeeded in transforming the peril into a profit, after the canal had
been built. The spendthrift Khedive, Ismael Pasha, was overburdened with
debts; Disraeli purchased all his Suez Canal shares, obtained later on
possession of others, and thus placed the canal under the virtual
control of England. Ever since the great insurrection of the Seapoys in
1857, the British Government had worked uninterruptedly to bind India to
the Empire, and to organise her defence. The Suez Canal was a
first-class instrument for this purpose. The Anglo-French rivalry in
Egypt continued, but the English influence there increased steadily. In
the rest of the world, during the nineteenth century, England did and
took what she wanted. If any territory, in any region whatsoever,
appealed to the taste of some wandering English merchant or politician,
he simply hoisted the British flag, and the matter was settled. The
territory was henceforth British.
About the end of the sixties it became perfectly evident to English
statesmen, that Germany, under Bismarck’s guidance, was advancing
rapidly towards unification. At the eleventh hour British diplomacy
tried hard to prevent this unification from taking place. In London the
thread was spun of an elaborate intrigue, which aimed at persuading the
North German Union and France to come to an understanding regarding a
reduction of armaments. The proposal met with considerable approbation
in France, whereupon the latter became suddenly England’s “friend.”
Weakness, aimlessness, discord, were becoming ever more and more visible
in France; and these sorts of things have always been calculated to earn
England’s friendship. But the London Cabinet had no success in Berlin
with its proposal. Bismarck politely declined, and did not budge an
inch. The English took similar steps in South Germany, where they did
not content themselves with proposing a reduction of armaments, but also
argued most persuasively that the union of the Southern German States
with the Northern ones would be a crime against humanity which Europe
could not possibly tolerate. The Southern States, further, would be
doomed to certain perdition, i. e. be crushed under the Prussian boot.
When the great war with France broke out, English public opinion was at
first considerably affected by Bismarck’s revelations, to the effect
that France had endeavored, before the war, to obtain his consent to the
French annexation of Belgium. Soon afterwards English opinion became
pronouncedly favorable to France, and remained so. Munitions were sold
to the French, and everything else that the latter wanted; the
bombardment of Paris was bitterly criticised; the annexation of
Alsace-Lorraine called forth a storm of curses. Gladstone intended
protesting against it. But all this anti-German feeling remained
confined within very modest limits, for England had other and very grave
anxieties. The Russian Government declared itself released from the
obligations imposed by the Treaty of Paris, and it found herein the firm
support of Bismarck. France was momentarily crushed, and Austria-Hungary
was not capable of resisting Russia and Germany by herself. England thus
found herself isolated, and was compelled to sacrifice an important
article of the Treaty of Paris—namely, the neutralisation of the Black
Sea. This was decided upon in a conference held in London. In 1871
England found herself powerless in regard to affairs on the Continent.
There was “nothing to be done,” and with that practical sense which is
so developed in the Englishman, the English Press did not shrink from an
exhibition of grovelling hypocrisy. Towards the end of 1870 an essay
appeared in the Times, of which the conclusion furnishes interesting
reading to-day:
“I think that Bismarck will take as much of Alsace and Lorraine as he
wishes, and that this is all the better for him, all the better for us,
all the better for the whole world—except France, and in course of time
better for her also. By means of his quiet and splendid measures, Herr
von Bismarck intends realising one great object: the welfare of Germany
and of the whole world. May the broadminded, peaceful, intelligent, and
earnest German nation then attain to unity, may Germany become the Queen
of the Continent, instead of the light-hearted, ambitious, quarrelsome,
and far too irritable France!”
But such sentiments as those expressed here, were not, in London, of
long duration.
In the course of the following years, England did not succeed in
carrying out her traditional policy of a coalition organised against the
Continental Power which happened for the time being to be the strongest:
namely, Germany. England’s antagonism to Russia increased continually.
Austria-Hungary was absorbed by internal quarrels, and remained weak;
France had to recover from the war, and found herself to be politically
dependent on Berlin. British statesmanship deemed it, consequently,
advisable to be on good terms with Bismarck, whose support England
required for her policy in the Mediterranean. In the latter sea England
had every interest in opposing French expansion. Italy was used for the
purpose; and the center of gravity of the English fleet was likewise
transferred to the Mediterranean. The French fleet had remained intact
during the war, and constituted an important factor of the balance of
power. France and England soon came into conflict: in Egypt, in the rest
of North Africa, in the Far East. Italy varied her position during the
seventies, she was not well led, she was unable to follow up an
independent and consistent policy, and she lacked initiative. Not until
1881, when France snapped up Tunis under her very nose, did Italy join
the Austro-German alliance. England herself drifted, precisely on
account of her Mediterranean interests, towards the Triple Alliance; and
her relations with the latter became more and more friendly at the
beginning of the ninth decade.
During the seventies Anglo-Russian relations grew very strained, and a
rupture between the two countries appeared imminent whilst the
Russo-Turkish war was in progress. The British fleet was anchored before
the Dardanelles. At Russia’s demand, the Congress of Berlin met under
the presidency of Bismarck; the Preliminary Peace of San Stefano was
revised very much to Russia’s disadvantage; and England emerged
triumphant from the diplomatic struggle. Not only had she forced Russia
to retreat, and strengthened the Balkan position of Austria-Hungary; but
she had seized Cyprus and concluded a treaty with Turkey. It was at this
time that British diplomacy, under Disraeli’s leadership, succeeded in
sowing the first seeds of discord between Russia and Germany; those
seeds were destined to bring forth fruit. That Russian distrust of
Germany set in, which never disappeared again, but which, on the
contrary, only grew stronger. Nevertheless did Bismarck succeed, in
1884, in concluding a Neutrality Agreement between Germany,
Austria-Hungary, and Russia. In England, the successful policy of the
German Chancellor was praised; but, behind the scenes, everything
possible was done with a view to checkmating and nullifying it. The
triple entente between Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Russia soon came to
an end as a result of the tension between Austria-Hungary and Russia in
the Balkans; in its stead Bismarck concluded the celebrated Reinsurance
Treaty with Russia. This treaty was very distasteful to Great Britain,
for it prevented the latter from playing off Germany against Russia.
Russia’s policy of expansion in Asia was a source of growing anxiety to
England, who was used, in such cases, to rely on the assistance of a
Continental Power. Such assistance could not now be obtained on account
of Bismarck’s alliances; on the other hand, France was also an
antagonist of England’s, and sought to effect a rapprochement with
Russia—albeit, until the end of the eighties, in vain.
England did not feel at all well in her “splendid isolation”; for the
first time was she obliged to recognise the fact that, without a
Continental “servant,” her influence in Europe was but small, as soon as
a strong will manifested itself here. To add to this, the Germans
initiated a colonial policy which sorely vexed Her Britannic Majesty’s
Ministers. That policy, it is true, was a very modest one; but it made
the English uneasy, just as the new German steamship lines did. But
Bismarck pursued his aims unflinchingly, and informed the London Cabinet
that Germany would be glad to march hand-in-hand with Great Britain in
all matters of colonial policy and colonial conquests. If England did
not desire this, then Germany would come to an understanding with
France.
The greatest pain and annoyance that Bismarck ever caused our English
friends was in 1879, when he proceeded to establish a protective tariff
for German industry. The protection of European markets against English
industry is, according to English conceptions, the most hostile and
outrageous act which a nation can possibly commit against the Chosen
People. If England had found herself at that time in a more advantageous
political position and if Bismarck had not been there, it is probable
that Germany’s conversion to Protectionism would have had much more
important effects on Anglo-German relations than it did. We need only
remember the Anglo-French wars about a hundred years before, the origin
of which is to be traced chiefly to disputes arising from similar
causes.