“You believe in the transmigration of souls?” said Heideck jestingly; “perhaps you have once been such a dolphin yourself.”
“Then certainly I have made no change for the better. There is no doubt that our higher intellectual development prevents us from properly enjoying our natural existence. But it teaches us to feel more deeply the sorrows, which are far more numerous than the joys of human life.”
The journey through the Indian Ocean took six days, and Heideck frequently had an opportunity of hearing the views of English officers and officials on the political situation. All blamed the incapacity of the Government, which had brought England into so perilous a situation.
“The good old principles of English policy have been abandoned,” said a Colonel, who had been severely wounded and was returning home invalided. “In former times England made her conquests when the continental Powers were involved in war, or she carried on war with allies, to enlarge her possessions. But she has never allowed herself to be so disgracefully surprised before. Of course we shall beat France and Germany, for it is a question of sea power. But even when they are beaten, we shall still have the worst of it; the loss of India is as bad for England’s health and efficiency as the amputation of my left leg for me. I am returning to England a cripple, and my poor country will only be a cripple after she has lost India.”
“Quite true,” said Mr. Kennedy; “I am afraid it will be difficult—impossible, to recover India. We were able to rob the French, the Dutch, and the Portuguese of their Indian possessions, since their only connexion with India was by sea; but the Russians will annex the peninsula to their Empire and, even in case of a defeat, will be able to send fresh troops without number overland. I can already see them attacking Calcutta, Bombay, and Madras, occupying the harbours built with our money, and building a fleet in our docks with the resources of India.”
“We have no right to blame the continental Powers,” continued the Colonel, “for using our defeats for their own aggrandisement. There is no Power at whose expense we have not grown great. We took all our possessions by force of arms from the Spaniards, the Dutch, the Portuguese, and the French; we have always opposed Russia, since she began to develop her power. We supported Turkey, we invaded the Crimea and destroyed Sebastopol, we suffocated her fleet in the Black Sea. But this time we are out of our reckoning. We have allowed the Japanese to attack Russia; but if our ministers believed that Japan would fight for any one but herself, they have made a great mistake. Russia is making us pay for her losses in the Far East.”
“It is not Russia, but Germany, that is our worst enemy,” contradicted Mr. Kennedy. “Russia has only been our enemy since we let Germany grow so powerful. I remember how our ministers exulted when Prussia was at war with France and Austria. The continent of Europe again seemed paralysed for a long time by internal disruption. But our triumph was short-lived! No one had suspected that Prussia would prove so strong. Then the first defects in our policy became apparent. After the first German victories on the Rhine, England ought to have concluded an alliance with France and declared war against Prussia. Great political revolutions require considerable time, and a clever government should always look ahead. Bismarck slowly prepared England’s defeat. Thirty years ago we had a presentiment of this; it threatened us like a storm-cloud, but our Government had not the courage to look things in the face and lacked the energy.”
A general, who had hitherto said nothing, took up the conversation. He belonged to the engineers, and was on his way to take over the command of Gibraltar.
“We talk about the loss of India,” said he; “but who knows whether we have not to fear an invasion of England herself?”
“Impossible!” exclaimed all the gentlemen present; “England will never allow her men-of-war to be driven out of the Channel.”
“I hope so too, but I don’t know whether you gentlemen remember how close the danger of Napoleon landing an army on English soil once was.”
“And if it had made its appearance, it would have been smashed to pieces by British fists!” cried Mr. Kennedy.
“Perhaps. But why have we never consented to the Channel Tunnel being made? All military authorities, especially Wolseley, are absolutely opposed to opening a road so convenient for traffic and trade. They have always declared that England must remain an island, only accessible by sea. This is certainly the first and most essential condition of England’s power.”
“Well, then,” said Mr. Kennedy, “as England is still an island, and we have always adhered to the principle of keeping a fleet superior to that of the two strongest naval powers, where is the danger?”
“Danger? There is always a danger, when one has enemies,” replied the General. “I maintain that at the beginning of the nineteenth century, it was a toss up whether Napoleon crossed or not; and I don’t believe that we should have been a match for our great opponent, if he had once got a firm footing on our coast.”
“His plan was a visionary one and therefore impracticable.”
“His plan only failed because it was too complicated. If he had had modern telegraphic communication at his disposal, this would not have been the case. He could have directed the operations of his fleet by cable. If Admiral Villeneuve had sailed to Brest (instead of Cadiz) as he was ordered and joined Admiral Gantaume, he would have had fifty-six ships of the line to cover Napoleon’s passage from Boulogne to the English coast. No, gentlemen, you must not think England’s strategical position unassailable. I am as confident of the superiority of our naval forces as you are, but in these days of steam and electricity England is no longer as safe as she was when the movement of ships depended on the wind and orders had to be given by mounted messengers and signals.”
“So you really think, General, that Napoleon’s plan would have been practicable?”
“Most certainly. Napoleon had no luck in this enterprise. In the first place, his greatest misfortune was the death of Admiral Latouche-Treville. If he had been in Villeneuve’s place, he would most likely have proved a competent commander. He was the only French naval officer who could have opposed Nelson. But he died too soon for France, and his successor, Villeneuve, was his inferior in ability. But there are other special circumstances, more favourable to a landing in England than in Napoleon’s day. For instance—to say nothing of cable and steam—the fact that modern transports can carry an enormously larger number of troops. Napoleon had to fit out 2,293 vessels to transport his army of 150,000 men and to protect the transports, had 1,204 gunboats and 135 other armed vessels at his disposal, in addition to the transports proper. As nearly all his ships were constructed to land men, horses, and guns on the level beach without the aid of boats, they wanted calm weather for crossing the Channel. They would have taken about ten hours, with a calm sea, to reach a point between Dover and Hastings. It is different now. The large French and German companies’ steamers are at the disposal of their Admiralties.”
“And yet things are just the same as before,” said Mr. Kennedy. “Victory on the open sea turns the scale. No hostile fleet will be able to show itself in the Channel without being destroyed by ours.”
“Let us hope so!” said the General.
On the way to Aden the Caledonia only met a few ships—all English. Several transports with troops on board and a few men-of-war passed her; as she travelled on the average twenty-two knots an hour, no vessel overtook her. On the morning of the sixth day the reddish brown rocks of Aden appeared, and the Caledonia cast anchor in the roadstead. A number of small vessels darted towards her. Naked, black Arab boys cried for money and showed their skill in diving, fishing up pieces of silver thrown from the ship. As the Caledonia had to coal, those passengers who were able to move went ashore in boats rowed by Arabs.