The Partition of Poland.
Some twenty years before the dismemberment of Poland, this disgraceful act was foretold by Lord Chesterfield, in Letter CCCIV., dated Dec. 25, 1753, commencing with “The first squabble in Europe that I foresee, will be about the crown of Poland.” The leading data of the fall of Poland will show how far this prediction was realized. Poland was dismembered by the Emperor of Germany, the Empress of Russia, and the King of Prussia, who seized the most valuable territories in 1772.
At the bottom of the Convention signed on the 17th Feb., 1772, we read this declaration of the Empress Queen Maria-Theresa of Austria, dated the 4th March, 1772: “Placet, since so many learned personages will that it should be so; but long after my death it will be seen what will be the result of having thus trampled under foot all that has been hitherto held to be just and sacred.”
The royal and imperial spoliators, on various pretexts, poured their armies into the country in 1792. The brave Poles, under Poniatowski and Kosciusko, several times contended against superior armies, but in the end were defeated. Then followed the battle of Warsaw, Oct. 13, 1794; and Suwarrow’s butchery of 30,000 Poles, of all ages and conditions, in cold blood. We can scarcely believe such wholesale atrocities to have been perpetrated upon European soil within seventy years of the time we are writing. Poland was finally partitioned and its political existence annihilated in 1795. The transaction, in its earlier stage, is detailed in the Annual Register for 1771, 1772, and 1773, supposed to have been written by Edmund Burke. Professor Smythe says, diffidently:—“After all, the situation of Poland was such as almost to afford an exception (perhaps a single exception) in the history of mankind to those general rules of justice that are so essential to the great community of nations. I speak with great hesitation, and you must consider the point yourselves; I do not profess to have thoroughly considered it myself.”—(Lectures on Modern History.) Sir James Mackintosh contributed to the Edinburgh Review a valuable paper on Poland.
The Invasion of England.[2]
In contemplating the possibility of an Invasion, we have some right to count upon the changes which modern civilization has introduced into the methods of warfare. It is not improbable that, if it entered into the French Emperor’s plans to invade England, he would make the attempt upon several points at once. The campaign which he sketched out for the use of the allied generals in the Crimea, and which they rejected as impracticable, was based upon this principle. His forces were to be distributed at various points on the circumference of a circle, of which the enemy was to occupy the centre. The enemy was to have all the advantage of concentration; he and his allies were to have all the weakness of division. It is a mode of fighting which is rather at variance with the old Napoleonic ideas, and which would require an overwhelming force to give it effect. As in military numeration the rule of addition is somewhat at fault,—two and two do not always make four, and 200,000 men cannot be computed as ten times stronger than 20,000—we may rest assured that for the successful invasion of England, whether the attack be made by a single armament or by several, a tremendous force must be necessary; and preparations, which will prevent us from being taken altogether by surprise, must be some time in progress.
We shall have a little time to prepare. There is no necessity for our arming to the teeth, and standing to our guns, as if the Philistines were upon us; for there is no need to play the fire-engines before the fire breaks out; but, on the other hand, if we delay our defences on the plea of saving our money till the danger actually comes, when we shall be able to spend it without stint, “it is as if, for a security against fire, you laid by your money at interest, to be expended in making engines and organizing a proper fire brigade as soon as the conflagration commences.” Sir John Burgoyne adds, by way of practical illustration, that 10,000 additional British infantry would have taken Sebastopol before the month of December, 1854, and saved all the sufferings of the winter campaign; “but not all the boasted wealth of England could supply the British infantry required.”—(Military Opinions.)
Suppose the descent to have taken place where it was least expected. Sir John Burgoyne attributes to the invading force the power of landing with marvellous rapidity. People imagine that because, after long training on a particular beach, Napoleon could embark 100,000 soldiers in a space of time measured by minutes, the process of debarkation on an unknown shore must be proportionately rapid. Perhaps no nation can do these things more quickly than our French friends, but they sometimes exaggerate. On landing in the Crimea, where there was no resistance, they indeed succeeded in throwing 6000 men on shore in about twenty-two minutes; and at the end of nearly seven hours (namely a little before two o’clock) Marshal St. Arnaud sent word to Lord Raglan that the disembarkation was complete. But observe that here were seven hours required to land 23,600 men without opposition, and the fact was that the whole of these French troops had really not landed in the time specified. The Special Correspondent of the Times stated that the French were not more advanced than ourselves in the disembarkation, which was carried on long after sunset. More than this, Sir John Burgoyne asks us to consider what would have been the effect of following St. Arnaud’s proposal to land at the mouth of the Katcha. He raises before us a vision of boats closely packed, and rowing on shore in the proper order at the rate of about two miles an hour. From the first they are exposed to the fire of artillery, and for the last 600 yards to a fire of musketry which they are unable to return. Even a small force could, in such circumstances, have punished the allies severely, although ultimately they might have been unable to prevent a landing. If so, it really seems to us that the invasion of our island, though perfectly possible, is not likely to be the simple stepping on shore which some of our military men seem to regard as within the bounds of possibility.—Times review of Sir John Burgoyne’s “Military Opinions.”