CHAPTER VII
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.