Nineteen hundred? A forecast and a story

by Marianne Farningham

The Houses of Legislature received a request from the Prince that he might be permitted to lay before them a suggestion.

The Upper House, composed now of the new aristocracy, among whom were the best representatives of the old nobility of England, immediately decided to send a courteous assurance of welcome to the Prince, and the Lower House added their response to that of their co-workers.

When the Prince arrived both Houses united to give him audience. The scene was indeed worthy of the time, and there is nothing better in the whole history of England to be perpetuated, in the best way possible to Art, than that which was enacted then.

The whole assembly arose as the Prince entered and took his place beside the Speaker’s chair, deferentially bowing to its occupant. The light of earnest purpose shone in his eyes, and his voice was clear and strong as he addressed the assembly.

“Sir, my lords and gentlemen,—It is known to you that the wisdom of the ancients is a treasure-trove for modern seekers; and the thought that is in my heart to-day is one that has passed down to me through a long line of heroes. I sorrow with my countrymen for the misunderstanding which has arisen between ourselves and France, and which seems to be developing into a quarrel that can only be healed by blood. But, sirs, if war were declared between the two nations, as things are now it would not be battle, but murder. We want our men for other things than that. And so does fair France, with her broad fields spread out to the sun, and her chivalrous men and women with their new ideas of life. In this quarrel we are the aggrieved, and therefore have the right to declare war. May we not also choose our mode of battle? Is it necessary—can it possibly be right—to call out our soldiers, who have no part whatever in this quarrel, and bid them go over and fight with French soldiers, who are by no means unfriendly—nay, I will not call it fighting—shall we allow them to kill each other in cold blood by thousands? It cannot be right, and it is not necessary. Sir, I have to propose that England should take the initiative, and request France to allow this dispute to be settled by single combat of arms, so that one life should suffice and the many be spared. And I hereby offer myself to you as the representative of this nation, and declare my willingness and most earnest desire to meet any man whom France may appoint, and to fight with him to the death, in the cause of Old England, my own beloved country, which may God bless and preserve! I make this entreaty because I know that if I am allowed to have my will, and if I should die for the nation, the blow that kills me will be also the death-blow to war. You have not been able to get this quarrel settled by arbitration, but it is the last time that such a suggestion will be powerless. Gentlemen, the world needs an object-lesson; let it have it. Here am I, send me; and I declare to you that by God’s help I will make it impossible that there should ever again be a European war.”

The Prince bowed first to the Speaker and then to the members, and before the latter could recover from their astonishment he sat down. Then a murmur filled the house, first of applause and next of demur.

It was noble and brave of him, but it could never be allowed. The Prince was too dear to the nation—better a thousand lesser men be sacrificed than he. And, besides, this would be such an antiquated form of warfare; it would make England ridiculous in the eyes of the world. Nor would France agree to it. And who had she that was the peer of the Prince whom England loved? Such things, as soon as the speakers had found their tongues, were said one after the other, without in the least abating the resolution of the Prince. He would not be convinced, and he prayed them not to hinder him. The Republic of France, he was sure, had been growing to hate war more and more during the last few years; and if Frenchmen wished to fight, it was certainly not with England. Moreover, the times were new, and new ideas had taken possession of the people in all civilised countries. If some, still uncivilised, chose to laugh, what did it matter, since the quarrel was none of theirs? Let England and France be satisfied, and nothing more was needed. So said the Prince, and more than a few agreed with him; and when the time for closing the debate came a resolution was unanimously passed, thanking the Prince for his magnanimous offer, and begging him to attend the meeting of the House on that day week in order to receive the reply of England.

Next morning the whole country was in a state of ferment. A good many people tried to laugh off the whole circumstance as if it were something too absurd to be worthy of sober consideration. But it was soberly considered none the less; and it was soon apparent that a very large proportion of the English people came to feel that the Prince’s offer ought to be accepted. Not at first. At first there was a universal howl against it. There were many men whose names were mentioned as far more suitable for the sacrifice than he. But though the nation could compel fifty thousand people to fight at its command, it was quite impossible for them to compel any one man to do so; and though volunteers were not wanting, the Prince would not yield.

The New Party was unanimous in the opinion that the Prince should be allowed to have his will, if France were willing. They loved the Prince as dearly as the rest, but they saw that because his life was so precious, it was the one to be forfeited. Its value would make it acceptable to the French nation, and the fact that the Prince would fight any man France might send would go far to pacify that high-spirited people. Moreover, if the Prince were killed, his death would be more mighty than any other force could possibly be toward that on which their hearts were set, the abolition and extermination of war.

That week seemed to fly by. At its expiration the Prince duly presented himself to receive the nation’s reply to his proposition. Never was a vote more solemnly taken than that which decided the issue at stake. It was not a unanimous vote; but that the Prince should fight this battle of his country was decided by an overwhelming majority.