"Tell us all about it, Mr. Riley," asked Tom. "I'm like hundreds of others. I know that Napoleon desires to conquer all within his reach, and is said to have designs on England. I know, too, that our troops have been in this Peninsula since 1808, fighting the battles of the Portuguese and Spanish, and with great success. But why should we not have left them to it? I suppose we're afraid that Boney will become altogether too strong unless we interfere. Isn't that it? I haven't followed the various engagements, of which there have been numbers."
"Then here's for a yarn," began the naval lieutenant. "Those peasants, poor fools, have left us alone for the time being, and as my wound is too painful to let me sleep, and this Jack seems to be eager for information, why, I'll tell you the tale, and mighty fine hearing it makes. To begin with, we hark back to the 'Little Corsican', the artillery officer—a commoner, you must understand—who, by dint of sheer force of character and military and diplomatic genius, became Emperor of the French after that awful Revolution. Let us understand the position thoroughly. You have on the throne of France a man born in a lowly station. There is no long list of kingly ancestors behind him. Louis Capet, late King of France, was beheaded. The kingdom had become a republic, where equality and fraternity were supposed to flourish, and where the people were still shivering after the awful ordeals through which they had passed, scarcely able to believe that the days of the guillotine had really gone—those terrible days when no man, or woman either, knew whether the next day or so would or would not see himself or herself sent to sudden doom.
"At this moment Napoleon Bonaparte, a distinguished soldier, appeared upon the scene, and we find him in the course of a little time Emperor of the French, rich, all-powerful, and extremely ambitious. That ambition which might, had he wished it, have turned towards the path of peace, has been resolutely bent towards conquest. As I have said, Napoleon seeks to subjugate Europe. He dreams of a world power, with Paris as the centre and hub of that huge empire, and himself ruler over millions of downtrodden people. Doubtless England would have shared the same fate as other nations, and would have been overrun by French troops and mercenaries, had it not been for our navy. That is the arm, my lads, which has kept us free of invasion, that still sweeps the seas, and keeps French transports from venturing across to our tight little island."
"Then, if that is so," ventured Tom, "why not confine our efforts to the sea? At Trafalgar we beat the French and Spanish fleets combined. Why then should we now take the side of the Spaniards?"
"A fair question, and easily answered," smiled Mr. Riley. "Here is the plain, unvarnished explanation. You may say, putting sentiment and natural sympathy apart, that it is nothing to us that Napoleon has thrust his brother on the Spanish throne, displacing the rightful ruler; or if he subjugates Russia, putting a ruler of his own choice on the throne there also. You may argue that that is no affair of England's. But let us look at the certain results of such success on his part. He conquers a kingdom, and straightway has all the resources of that kingdom at his command. Its men are at his service, its fleets also; his armies and his navy are greatly increased in power thereby. Thus, first with one addition and then with another to this world power he seeks, Napoleon arrives at a point where he can destroy England in spite of her navy. There you find a reason for our actions, and for the presence of our troops here in the Peninsula. We fight to free the peoples here, thereby reducing Napoleon's power. We seize this opportunity because the peoples of the Peninsula will have none of Napoleon's ruling. The countries seethe with indignation, there are riots everywhere. Let us but drive him and his troops out of the Peninsula, and Napoleon himself meet with reverses elsewhere, and all the downtrodden peoples he has already conquered will turn upon him. There will be a great alliance against this despot, and in the course of time, in spite of his gigantic armies and their undoubtedly fine organization, we shall wrest his power from him, perhaps even his kingdom."
That was exactly what England was striving for in those days. It may almost be said that a parallel situation had arisen to that which beset the people of England in the days of Good Queen Bess. Then Spain was a world power; that is to say, she owned amongst other possessions those American colonies that brought her so much wealth. The Gulf of Mexico saw many of her ships; her vessels, of enormous tonnage when compared with those of England at that time, sailed from the coast of Mexico laden with jewels and gold and wealth wrung from the natives, those Astec people who displayed such gentleness of character, such civilized habits, alongside of a barbarous custom of human sacrifice to which the world has seen no equal, not even in the days of King Coffee in Ashantee. Wealth can buy power; it purchases ships, and if there be the men to man them, then a wealthy nation can endow itself with a fleet which may be the terror of its neighbours. That was the position between Spain and England in those days. That Armada was preparing. It aimed at the subjugation of England, and the story is well enough known how Drake and his admirals set forth in their tiny ships, manned by men who may be said to have been born aboard them, and in spite of the size of the galleons of the Armada, in spite of paucity of numbers and shortness of ammunition, contrived to break up the huge fleet when almost within sight of our shores. That was nearly a parallel situation. Now, instead of Spain, France aimed at our invasion, its Emperor Napoleon being ambitious to add England to the other nations he was bringing beneath his sway. Who knows what might have happened had there been no sea to contend with and no fleet? But we may fairly surmise that this country would have given a good account of herself, for already her armies in Portugal and Spain had chastised the French. Whatever the result under such circumstances, there was that sea to contend with, and Nelson and his admirals had so carefully watched it, and had fought so strenuously, that the fleet of France had been annihilated at Trafalgar. Thus the fear of invasion was gone for the moment. We had the future to consider, and, thoughtful of our own security and of the danger which would surely arise again so soon as Napoleon had brought Europe beneath his sway, we sent our troops to the Peninsula, there to oppose the man whose restless ambition kept the west in a state of turmoil, whose decree held thousands and thousands of men under arms when they might have been engaged in some peaceful occupation, and whose constant succession of skirmishes and battles filled the hospitals of Europe, sent thousands of maimed wretches back to their homes, and crowded the cemeteries. That was the direct result of Napoleon's ambitious policy, of his aggression, and let those who hold him up as a hero think of the unhappy wretches who suffered pain, and whose cries of anguish are now forgotten. Let them remember the huge number of young men in the first blush of life who found a grave on the many battlefields of Europe.
But that was the position before Napoleon set his eyes on the Peninsula, determining to place his brother on the throne of Spain and so bring the entire nation under his power. It was this latter period which was of greatest interest to our hero, and he listened eagerly while Mr. Riley told of the landing of our troops in Portugal, of their hardships, and of the strenuous fighting they had experienced.