stances might unite with the fleets of the other continental Powers to destroy England's preponderant Power at sea! (Origines diplomatiques, &c.)

Meanwhile England and Prussia were both courting Louis Napoleon. Palmerston expressed to the Prince de la Tour d'Auvergne, the French Ambassador in London, his regret that Great Britain and France could not come to a complete understanding, but Lord Russell kept the same ambassador in a state of mystification. Bismarck, on the other hand, was maintaining such intimate relations with M. de Talleyrand as to draw from Drouyn de Lhuys the warmest congratulations. The Emperor stroked his barbiche and held the balance. Poor Emperor! It was for him that the witches' cauldron was seething.

66

And Denmark? In the spring of 1863 King Frederic VII had died, and King Christian, the father of our Queen Alexandra, ruled in his stead. Seldom has a monarch been called to the throne in more untoward circumstances. Only eleven years had passed since all the Great Powers-Prussia and Austria, of course, included-gathered together in conclave in London, had solemnly bound themselves to guarantee the integrity of his dominions. Such engagements, we are now told by the German Chancellor are scraps of paper." Only eleven years! It was no archaic instrument which the decay of many decades had rendered obsolete. What had occurred in the meantime to make it invalid? Nothing, absolutely nothing! Yet in spite of the most sacred obligations of the Powers which had pledged themselves to maintain his succession and the rights of his kingdom, two were invading his country to despoil him of his territory and the rest treacherously and cowardly deserted him. It was a cruel betrayal, and, as if to accentuate it by a stroke of bitter irony, France sent General Fleury, the Emperor's confidential friend, England Lord Wodehouse, on special missions to congratulate the new king on his accession. Fleury, the dandy courtier, passing through Berlin, was handsomely flattered and fooled by Bismarck; Lord Wodehouse carried pouches full of excellent advice from Lord Russelladvice the neglect of which King Christian was assured might lead to dire consequences. The King acted according to Lord Russell's advice, but none the less when the great catastrophe came he was left to his fate.

Such, briefly sketched, was the position of the Danish negotiations at the end of 1863 and the beginning of 1864. The details can easily be filled in from our own Blue Books, from Lord Salisbury's masterly essays, and from the Origines Diplomatiques de la Guerre de 1870. I have only tried to say so much as should serve to make intelligible what follows.

It must have been about February 9 or 10-I have not the exact date-a cruel blizzard, cruel even for St. Petersburg, lasting many hours, had swept the streets clear of all passenger traffic. Only the direst necessity would goad men to face it. As good luck would have it, there was for a wonder no function or entertainment that night, so I hugged my comfort in my rooms and went to bed early, thinking, with a sense of superiority tempered by pity, of the poor wretches who must be outside wrestling with the bitterness of the weather. Hardly had I laid myself down when there came a violent knocking at my outer door. My servant had long since gone home, so there was nothing for it but to get up and see what was the matter. It was the Chancery messenger, shivering and smothered from head to foot with snow, bringing me a note from my chief, Lord Napier: "Please come at once." I went back into my bedroom and dressed again, looking regretfully at my warm bed, in which only a few minutes earlier I had been pitying the victims of whom now I was to be one. When I got outside I was almost blinded by the snow, driven by a wind which it was hard to stand against. It seemed more than doubtful whether I should be able to reach the Embassy, which was about half a mile off. All at once, out of the unwholesome, yellow, almost lurid darkness my good Angel sent a belated isvoshtchik crawling alone, visible only a few yards off. I hailed him, hardly hoping that he would come to my call. However, the promise of a good pourboire tempted him, and we crept miserably through the storm to the Embassy. I never was out in so weird a night. As I left the little sleigh I shook off many pounds' weight of snow from fur cap and coat.

I found Lord Napier walking about his room in his dressinggown, evidently rather uneasy. He seemed to have a sort of forewarning of something out of the common and disagreeable. A telegraphic despatch in cypher had come in, and he wished to have it decyphered forthwith. It was truly a momentous document,

nothing less than an instruction to call upon Prince Gortchakoff at once and to let him know that England would not interfere on behalf of Denmark. Lord Napier was eagerly watching over my shoulder as the fateful words revealed themselves, and when the telegram was fully before us we looked at one another in dismay.

"But," said my chief, "only yesterday when I saw the Prince I told him that I believed that there was no change in the policy of her Majesty's Government, and now I have to give him this message. It is very embarrassing! Where is the Prince ? Do you know?"

"He is at Tsarskoe Selo," I answered.

Well, I shall have to go out by the first train to-morrow morning."

It was a very awkward moment for Lord Napier, and he felt the falseness of the position acutely, but he was so truly attached to Lord Russell personally that he never would say a word against him.

The next day I was in the Chancery when Lord Napier came back from Tsarskoe Selo. He beckoned me into his private room. Well," I asked, "what did the Prince say?"

"It was not a pleasant interview," answered my chief. "When the Prince had read the telegram he folded it up and handed it back to me, saying, 'Alors, milord, je mets de côté la supposition que l'Angleterre fasse jamais la guerre pour une question d'honneur.' Pretty words for an English Ambassador to listen to!

Lord Napier was deeply moved, as well he might be. They were indeed "pretty words," and in them I think we may see what lay at the bottom of all Prince Gortchakoff's subsequent foreign policy-especially in Central Asia—until he was finally checkmated by Lord Beaconsfield at the Berlin Congress in 1878. On that morning of February 1864 the Prince's well-known keenness for an alliance with England died the death; in his estimation England need no longer be taken into account.

Bismarck had now a free hand. His carefully laid schemes, of which the war in the Duchies was only an instalment, were all to bear their fruit. Austria was to be crippled, France to be

humbled and dismembered, Germany to be a naval Power of the first magnitude.

This is how the keel of the first Dreadnought was laid at St. Petersburg in the month of February 1864. The Baltic and the North Sea are united as Siamese twins. Germany, possessed of ports and a huge navy, is straining every nerve to wrest the trident from the hands of Great Britain, and the tragedy of 1914, which sooner or later was bound to come, is even now upon us. Black is the ingratitude of mankind! There is no statue of Lord Russell, the great benefactor, standing in the famous avenue Unter den Linden in Berlin.

REDESDALE

THE WAR AGAINST THE HUNS

66

I. UNDER THE HEEL OF THE

PRESS BUREAU

WAR has already shown its nobler sides which help us to endure its cruel tragedies. But it likewise has a less attractive aspect in the opportunities afforded to innumerable Jacks-in-office to assert themselves on the pretext of serving a public who would cheerfully dispense with their ministrations. Almost before General Lemans, the hero of Liège, had emerged into view, and when the names of Generals Joffre and von Kluck were barely known, we learnt that a new departure was to be made by the constitution of a so-called Press Bureau" which would supervise our news, colour our views and generally regulate our thoughts. Astonishment was deepened by the announcement that a distinguished Cavalry Officer-no less a man than Mr. F. E. Smith-was ready at the call of duty temporarily to sacrifice the delights of the sword to those of the pen and would live laborious days and still more laborious nights as the "Director" of this new-fangled organisation. England has been described as the "paradise of amateurs." No one ever stops to enquire whether any prominent personage is suited for any position to which he may be appointed. It is still more the paradise of lawyers and the amour propre of our most formidable Trade Union would be outraged if any one questioned the fitness of any gentleman of the long robe for any task which brought him into the limelight. Acute observers regarded the distinction of Mr. F. E. Smith as the slim manœuvre of subtle statesmanship, anxious to entangle a prominent political opponent in a hornet's nest, while others attributed it to the goodwill of the First Lord of the Admiralty ready to oblige a friend with a small share of his