The Siege of London (Posteritas)/Chapter 13
THE CAPITULATION OF LONDON.—ENORMOUS WAR INDEMNITY.—LOSS OF INDIA, THE CAPE, CYPRUS, AND GIBRALTAR.—FRENCH PROTECTORATE DECLARED IN EGYPT.—IRELAND'S FATE. ENGLAND'S HOPES.
THE French were now virtually in possession of London, and it was felt that to prolong the struggle was only to pour out torrents of blood to no purpose. The regular troops and Volunteers had been reduced to a mere handful of men; and of food there was absolutely none for the starving population. Diseases of the most loathsome character were raging, for the stench from the unburied dead was awful and deadly to the living. Miles and miles of streets were simply heaps of blackened ruins. All the wonderful magnificence, the grandeur, and the greatness of the greatest city of the world had passed away, and London was now little more than a stupendous reeking heap of ruin and death. Nothing remained, therefore, but capitulation, because there was no longer any means of defending the place. An armistice of twenty-four hours was arranged in order that the terms of capitulation might be drawn up, and the next day the French troops took entire possession of the British metropolis. As they surveyed it after its fall they were met by sights so appalling that even the most hardened soldier shuddered. The place was a vast tomb of uncoffined dead in every stage of decomposition, and mingling with the festering dead were the gaunt and ghastly living, looking spectral and horrible with their sunken eyes and cadaverous faces, their maniacal stare and trembling limbs. Truly the dead were to be envied. For not only were they spared the physical suffering of the living, but also the burning shame and indignation which Englishmen experienced all the world over.
The struggle had been a terrific one, and the political changes it brought about were truly no less terrific. "Proud England," proud no longer, was humbled and crushed into the dust; on her mangled and bleeding limbs was fettered the yoke of an unforgiving and cruel conqueror. And from the unhappy country was wrung the enormous war indemnity of three hundred and fifty millions sterling. But England's disgrace and England's woe ended not there. The magnificent Empire of India had passed into the hands of Russia. In that country, no less than in England itself, Englishmen had made a magnificent stand against the foe. But it was all useless. Russia, tearing up all treaties, discarding all promises, falsifying all pledges, and displaying the cloven hoof now that there was no longer any necessity for concealing it, swept with a hurricane's wrath through the length and breadth of the land, and, as it was impossible for help to come from the Mother Country, India became Russian. So also with the Cape. Taking advantage of the death struggle in which England was engaged, the Boers rose en masse and obtained possession of the whole of South Africa. Gibraltar was given by the French back to Spain, and Malta would have become French had not Germany stepped forward and insisted on its remaining British territory. In Egypt, however, France proclaimed a Protectorate, and also took Cyprus; and, lastly, England's navy was reduced by treaty to one-third of its former strength. England's misfortune had been Ireland's opportunity, and she had aided France in every possible way; but when the division of the kingdom took place French ambition overcame French promises. Ireland had hoped for independence; but, in order to keep England in subjection, France declared her intention to make Ireland a French colony, and so Ireland, having tried to sit upon two stools, fell between them never more to rise.
Thus, then, was the once greatest nation of the earth humiliated and dismembered. The syren voices of incompetent statesmen had charmed her to her destruction, and now she had nothing to do but to bind up her wounds, and turn wistful and longing eyes to the future, which might some day give her the power to burst her shackles, and shake the earth with a mighty shout of freedom. That day may be very far off. Nay, it may never come; but, still, there is not a single Englishman whose heart beats true but who lives for it, works for it, yearns for it, and prays for it; and little children, lisping at their mothers' knees, are taught to ask the Supreme Ruler to give England deliverance, and to allow her once more to take her stand as a great and strong nation amongst the nations of the earth.
Wyman & Sons, Printers. Great Queen Street, London, W. C.