(_An Anglo-Nicaraguan Parallel._)
The young Midshipman looked towards Corinto. The public buildings were
still within range of the monster guns. The select army of one hundred
and fifty had retired before the advance of the blue jackets and
marines. All was tranquil, and, as he gazed upon the Nicaraguan
capital, his eyes closed, and he dreamed a dream.
He was once more in England. He was at the seaside. Here in front
of him were bathing-machines. There, to his right, was a circulating
library. He could see a clock-tower and a shortened pier. Then
he laughed in his glee. He was at Herne Bay! Close to the Isle of
Thanet--within sight of the Reculvers!
He had scarcely realised his happiness, when he noticed on the ocean a
flotilla. Three gigantic ironclads were approaching the tranquil town!
"The Nicaraguan fleet!" he murmured in his sleep.
It, alas! was too true! The Central American Admiral had sent an
ultimatum. The news had run from one end of Herne Bay to the
other that, unless the sum demanded were paid at once, the
as-yet-unconquered watering-place would be "ploughed," as the Poet
BUNN would have put it, "by the hoof of the ruthless invader."
Then there was a hurried consultation. What could be done with that
overpowering fleet? It was useless to defend the bathing-machines; the
donkeys and their drivers were no match for heavy ordnance. What
could the few coast-guardsmen do when threatened by five hundred
Nicaraguans?
"Herne Bay must surrender!" murmured the Midshipman in his sleep.
"There is no help for it."
And then came a strange sight. The search-lights of the Nicaraguan
fleet played upon the sea front, and the little garrison of Herne
Bay retired towards Birchington and Margate. The Band (lent from the
Militia) marched away, followed by the heavy cavalry of the bathers,
and the Uhlan-like donkeys of the sands. The representatives of the
Navy (carrying their look-out telescopes) brought up the rear.
Then, when all had gone, the sailors and marines of the Nicaraguan
fleet landed. The British flag was hauled down, and replaced by the
colours of the enemy.
Herne Bay was conquered!
At this point the Midshipman awoke with a start. He looked round, and
sighed a great sigh of relief.
"How fortunate it is that the English fleet have conquered Corinto
and not the Nicaraguan fleet Herne Bay!" he cried in an ecstacy of
patriotic fervour. Then he performed for hours the duties of his
command. Towards the close of day he again casually glanced at Corinto
and once more was involuntarily reminded of Herne Bay. And as he gazed
upon the Central American town he came to the conclusion that it
was about as formidable and about as well defended as the Kentish
watering-place. And having arrived at this opinion he determined
in his own mind that the taking of Corinto, as a feat of arms, was
scarcely on a par with the Victory of Trafalgar.
* * * * *