The Vampire of the Continent

by Graf E. Reventlow

In 1789 the French Revolution broke violently out, on the occasion of the summoning of the States-General in Paris. Two years later, Louis XVI and his family were brought back to the capital as prisoners, their attempted flight having been intercepted. Hereupon the Continental Powers allied themselves against France with the avowed intention of “employing every means in view of enabling the King of France to consolidate freely, and without let or hindrance, the foundations of the monarchy.” On behalf of Great Britain, William Pitt the Younger declared that he declined to intervene in any way in the internal affairs of another State.

The war against France commenced, and luck favored the French arms; after a short time the French troops entered the Austrian Netherlands, i. e. Belgium. At the same time the National Convention issued a decree, declaring the Scheldt to be henceforth open, in conformity with the law of nature. In order to enforce this decree without delay, and in such a manner as to remove all misunderstandings, a French fleet entered the Scheldt and blockaded Antwerp, already besieged by the army. This happened in November, 1792. Shortly afterwards the British Government declared that it would never see with indifference a French occupation of the Netherlands; and that it could not admit France’s claim to act as general arbitress of the rights and liberties of Europe. On January 21st 1793 Louis XVI was guillotined; and a little later the French Ambassador in London received from the British Government a brief and very impolite notice, to the effect that he must leave London within a week. This was but the prelude to war between France and England.

From the outset it was perfectly evident that the British Government would seek to wage this war in the name of one of those high-sounding principles, by means of which England has invariably sought to cloak her real designs. Nothing could have been more welcome to English Ministers than the death of Louis XVI. Full of noble indignation, with heaving breast and flashing eyes, the old pirate of the seas rose to arms. France, it was said, must receive her punishment for the murder of the King and for the atrocities of the Revolution; in view of the terrible crimes committed it was wholly impossible for England to remain disinterested, as Pitt had promised. England sacrifices all egotistical considerations, and makes the cause of monarchical Europe her own. To-day we are better able to judge the utterances of English statesmen and of the English press; and we can imagine the superb virtuosity, the wonderful skill, with which the “interests of Europe” and the “atrocities of the Revolution” were exploited, in order to keep the Continental nations in the dark as to the real motives underlying England’s intervention in the war. As a matter of fact, these motives were to be sought in the occupation of Belgium by French troops, and in the opening of the Scheldt. “It was not the execution of the King, but the conquest of Belgium, which drove England into war.” The English historian Seeley goes still deeper into the question, when he says: “The fight for the acquisition of new markets for English goods at the expense of the growing French industry, was at once keener and more popular than the fight against the Revolution.” Alexander von Peez and Paul Dehn, the authors of that excellent book England’s Vorherrschaft aus der Zeit der Continentalsperre, comment as follows on Seeley’s words: “Commercial jealousy was reinforced by political fear. France might be strengthened by the Revolution, even as England had been by her own revolutions in 1649 and 1689; and the former might, in consequence, become a very dangerous rival. The more prominent was the part played in the world by France, and the more did England consider herself injured and menaced. It was not the liberties of Europe that English statesmen regarded as threatened, but rather England’s commercial and industrial monopoly.” Every word of this statement is true.

England now proceeded to set all Europe in motion, in order to drive the French out of Belgium and to prevent the Belgian and Dutch sea-coast from falling into the hands of a rival naval Power. British gold flowed once more in an uninterrupted stream into Europe, as it always did whenever there was a probability of doing a really successful business “deal” on a large scale. Revolutionary France had indeed done everything that was necessary to provide England with the most admirable pretexts; for had it not abolished the Christian religion? Can we not imagine how the Englishman’s pious heart must have swollen within him? For the sole purpose of protecting religion and morals England was only too happy to be able to give money! Nothing characterises better the great comedy—the background of which Europe would seem not even yet to have perceived—than the literature of the Revolutionary and Napoleonic Era. The noble-heartedness of the free and pious Englishman is sung to every tune; the leitmotiv is invariably furnished by the noble and generous nation which, albeit in safety on its island, endeavors with motherly solicitude to diminish the sufferings of the Continental peoples, and which, animated by the marvellous spirit of self-sacrifice, fights indefatigably the good fight for religion, freedom, and order.

It is necessary, now, to turn our attention for a short while to Belgium, and especially to the question of the Scheldt. The independence of the Northern Netherlands had been recognised by the Treaty of Westphalia (1648); the latter thus gave legal sanction to Holland’s total separation from the powerless German Empire—a separation that had existed de facto for a very long time. The Southern Netherlands, i. e. Belgium, remained Spanish property until 1713, when they were handed over by the Treaty of Utrecht to Austria. This state of affairs continued to exist until the outbreak of the wars between France and the European Coalition.

The Treaty of Westphalia compelled Spain to give her consent to the closing of the Scheldt. The Dutch States-General had declared that, for Holland, this measure was one of vital importance; for if Antwerp were to become a great and prosperous port, Amsterdam and Rotterdam must necessarily suffer by it to a greater extent than Holland, with her small resources, could bear. Consequently was the Scheldt closed, Antwerp’s trade was ruined, and a terrible blow was dealt at Belgium’s prosperity. In reality, the closing of the Scheldt was due not so much to Dutch as to English influence. English statesmen had known for centuries what the result would be if Antwerp were to fall into the hands of a great Power; and that England’s trade would certainly derive no advantage—to say the least—from the existence of a prosperous port at the other side of the Channel, at the mouth of the Scheldt, close to the Rhine, the Meuse, and the Thames. A more convenient maritime position, and better means of communication with an immense commercial hinterland, than those possessed by Antwerp, cannot be imagined; in those days, when railroads did not exist, the situation was even superior to what it is to-day. The closing of the Scheldt was equivalent, under these circumstances, to the drying-up of an unusually rich source of trade and wealth, and even sea power. The restless mind of the Emperor Joseph II understood this, and he decided to demand the re-opening of the river. Holland, backed up by England, resisted the demand; negotiations ensued, which lasted several years. Mahan remarks that “Again, in 1784, she (England) was forced to look with anxiety—less on account of Austria than of France—upon this raising of the question of the Scheldt. There was little cause to fear Austria becoming a great sea power now, when she had held the Netherlands three-fourths of a century without becoming such; but there was good reason to dread that the movements in progress might result in increasing her rival’s sea power and influence—perhaps even her territory—in the Low Countries.” Mahan neglects to tell us how England’s jealousy of Austria manifested itself at that time—just as it had done on previous occasions. At the beginning of the 18th century, Austria had founded an East Indian trading company in Ostend. As Alexander von Peez tells us, the enterprise flourished, and thereby excited naturally the envy and suspicion of the English. “England created difficulties for the Emperor on the Rhine, and at the same time despatched envoys to the Great Mogul in India, who represented the Emperor as the principal enemy of Mohammedanism. For this purpose, certain highly-colored descriptions of the battles of Peterwardein and Belgrade were given. Finally in 1727 the company was dissolved, as a consequence of English threats.” We would remark that certainly no other European Power could have been maltreated and exploited by England, as Austria was; but then the German Empire of that time was not a Great Power!

Emperor Joseph II soon gave up insisting on the opening of the Scheldt, for other things occupied his restless mind. France paid him an indemnity; and her statesmen drew the conclusion that it was henceforth permissible for them to develop relations of intimacy with Belgium, and to sign a military and naval convention with the latter. This policy of France was directed against England; it showed that the French statesmen understood the real motives by which Great Britain was actuated. It is possible that they were also of the opinion that, in the event of the Belgian question becoming acute, it would be of the greatest importance for France if Belgium were not on England’s side. This was in 1785; and during the following years English diplomacy did everything it could to win over Holland.

Such was, then, the position of matters when, in 1793, the attack of the European Powers on France resulted in the conquest of Belgium by French troops, and in the opening of the Scheldt.

At first sight it would seem as if there were a certain similarity between the attitude of England at that date, and her ultimatum to Germany in 1914. There is certainly some resemblance between the two attitudes, but there is also a fundamental difference—namely, that Belgium, in 1793, was Austrian territory; and Austria was at war with France. France sent her troops into Belgium in order to conquer the latter; and she sent her fleet to open up a port of incomparable commercial value. The French Government intended, from the beginning, to keep Belgium; in fact, the possession of the whole of the Netherlands had been for centuries one of the chief objects of the Kings of France—and such an object could not possibly be attained except by conquest. Austria had, in conjunction with the other Continental Powers, attacked France, and the latter was in her right in invading Austrian territory. The French Government subsequently declared that its troops would evacuate Belgium; but it is doubtful whether it would have permitted the Scheldt to be closed again. The occupation of Belgium, however, together with the opening up of the river, afforded England a sufficient reason to declare war on France. Only a short time before this, the British Government had manifested the firm intention of not intervening in the Continental war; its desire had merely been to inflict, in accordance with its traditions, as much harm as possible on the shipping trade of belligerents and neutrals; and if the occasion had presented itself, it would have gladly seized a colony or a naval station belonging to one of the nations at war. English statesmen had judged a policy of “watchful waiting” to be the best—especially as the British fleet was at that time not quite equal to its task. But in those days of wooden ships, and in view of England’s colossal resources, the defects of the navy could very soon be repaired.

In 1914 the German Empire was attacked by Russia and France. The German Government requested Belgium, an independent but neutralised country, to allow the German armies to march through Belgian territory; it gave, further, every necessary guarantee to the effect that no territorial acquisitions were intended; it pointed out that military necessities alone dictated its request, and it promised compensation for all damage done. It likewise undertook to pay cash for all the provisions needed by its troops. Great Britain at once agitated the spectre of Belgian neutrality, and declared that the entry of German troops into Belgium must entail a declaration of war by the London Cabinet. A short time afterwards documents were found in Brussels, which showed that England, France, and Belgium had entered into a military agreement in 1906 with a view to preparing a joint attack on Germany. Since that date, consequently, a neutral Belgium had de facto no longer existed. Belgium—and this is the chief thing to be noted—had become a British basis of operations in one of the strategically most important regions of Europe. The British Government had already in advance ascribed to Belgium, in the carefully planned-out future war against Germany, a part similar to that played by Portugal during the Napoleonic wars.