2. If ever an invasion of England be attempted, the point to be aimed at by the invader will be the capture of London; and for the very simple reason that it alone would repay the cost and risks of an attack. If Portsmouth dockyard were destroyed, Devonport would remain; if both were lost, there would be Chatham; give all three to an enemy, and we have Pembroke; let him take all four, and England might still build ships in the Clyde and the Severn and the Mersey by private enterprise: better, perchance, than in royal dockyards, the gun-boat failures notwithstanding. An enemy would not be likely to place himself permanently on Portland Bill, or any other part of England; and certainly no burning of dockyards, or any other similar contingency, would be likely to induce England to capitulate and make terms. What might happen if a conqueror were to get possession of the Bank of England, and appoint a General of Division Governor pro tem., who would make the bank parlour his head-quarters, and bid his soldiers mount guard over the bullion-vaults, it is difficult to say. With London in a state of siege, a Provost-Marshal installed at the Mansion House, a park of artillery on Tower Hill, the Royal Exchange and Guildhall converted into military posts, and a foreign soldiery quartered upon the inhabitants, there would be no “Quotations” of Consols on the Stock Exchange, nor any of the usual telegrams or leading articles in the newspapers. The Government would be powerless for anything but “making terms” with the invading foe; Parliament would be nowhere; martial law alone would prevail; our glorious old Constitution would be abrogated, and the monarchy itself might be in jeopardy. The day of England’s disgrace and humiliation might inaugurate a saturnalia of brutal soldiery; crime and misery, such as the imagination recoils from conceiving, might desolate our hearths and homes; and destruction of property to the value of untold millions would involve paralysis of commerce, death of credit, stoppage of manufactures, ruin of trade, and the dissolution of every bond of law and society: nay, even this frightful calamity might be heightened by the horrors of the sack of London.
3. But, it may be asked, is such a contingency possible? For there are those who refuse to entertain the idea of an invasion of England ever being attempted. Rather than contemplate the probable consequences of a successful invasion, they ridicule the idea of its probability, and stigmatize as panic-mongers all who regard the possibility of such a disaster. That the idea of England being invaded is not absurd, we have the testimony of Wellington himself, and the call upon the nation for millions of money to prepare against the contingency. And since it is proved that this country is open to invasion, the impossibility of such an attempt being successful should be demonstrated so clearly, by the strength of our defensive preparations, that no foreign foe would dare to make the attempt.
4. As it is, however, the question whether England could be invaded, and London taken and sacked, has been frequently discussed by military engineers on the Continent, and answered by them in the affirmative.[2] The only difference of opinion that exists is as to the best plan of proceeding, the amount of forces required, and the places where troops should be landed. Is it impossible that an enemy, with a fleet nearly matching our own, and able to embark, at any moment, two or three hundred thousand troops in four or five divisions, and launch them against the most assailable parts of our coast, should so lay his plans as to reach London before we could prevent him? Resolved upon an attempt to occupy the metropolis, he could make a number of feints and attacks at different points, with a fair chance of succeeding in one; which would be all that he would want. A naval action might be fought and lost by England; or, if not lost, the fleet might be seriously crippled: even whilst the battle was fighting, or after it was fought, troops might be landed on the coast at quite another part of the country.
5. We would not infer, from the fact of the fortification of London not being named in the National Defence Commission, that the Government shut their eyes to the danger of the metropolis being unprotected; especially as certain incidents bearing upon the subject are well known to have occurred, which were calculated to open the eyes of the most passive and unsuspecting administration. But the remoteness and uncertainty of the possible peril, combined with a prudent desire to avoid the danger of creating a panic by implying a doubt of the durability of peace, may induce even a vigilant executive to postpone precautions which might denote distrust, until it be too late to adopt them with due effect. If this be so, the public voice should demand that the heart of England shall not be left to the chance of an extemporized and therefore inadequate defence, and that the Capital shall be rendered secure against an invading force. Such a demand incessantly and resolutely put forward, would not only strengthen the hands of the Ministry, but supply them with the needful justification to act, as they are, perhaps, already inclined to do. Indeed, the fortification of London is a necessary supplement to the Volunteer force; and the spontaneous offer of our riflemen having been accepted by the Queen and the Government, it is not likely that the voice of the nation, if raised to demand fortifications which the volunteers of the metropolitan districts could defend—and which would so strengthen our national defences as to render successful invasion hopeless, by making London an impregnable stronghold—would be unheeded. For surely no government would refuse a million to insure the safety of the metropolis and frustrate the aim of an invader, especially as the protection of the Capital is of paramount importance in any scheme of National Defences.
6. Again, our fleet might be passed, or even decoyed away, as Nelson’s was; and then there are about 200 miles of our coast on which an enemy could land within four days’ march of London. In those short four days the safety of London would have to be secured, and our work of resistance to the invader be done. Within that time the enemy must be brought to a stand. But how is this to be done? Will he be brought up by clouds of skirmishers, hovering on his flank and rear, and slowly retreating as he advances his tirailleurs? Can we hope, with any number of irregular riflemen, however perfect may be their practice or superior their intelligence, so to reduce his numbers and disorganize his ranks, as to oblige him to pause in his career?—no more than a man would be stopped by an attack of angry wasps.
7. No! the only stop to an enemy in that hasty rush would be a general action; and if we give ourselves three days out of the four, which is little enough, to collect the various component parts of our motley forces—if we even accomplish this, and are prepared to meet the enemy on the third day, the action must be fought within one day’s march of London.
8. All honour to the volunteers who have so nobly stepped out at their country’s call; but on that day—without apprenticeship to their bloody task, without having ever seen a shot fired in anger—they must match themselves against veteran legions, led on by well-known and well-tried leaders, with all their plans of operation ready prepared, and with the prospect of the sack of the richest city in Europe, and the consummation, perhaps, of long-nourished plans of revenge.
9. What Englishman would not give all that he had to ensure the victory on such a day? Who that has a mother, a sister, a wife, or a daughter living in London, but would make any sacrifice to guard against the possibility of what might happen, if in that day the issue of this battle was to be decided against us?
10. Neither confidence in the justice of our cause, nor reliance on the valour of our defenders, can prevent the mind from growing dizzy at the thought of what may be the result of that action: for all must depend on that. There would be no time nor space for rallying. That one battle would decide the fate of England.
11. But this is a fate against which we may guard, with certainty of success, by adopting precautions which in all cases have been proved to be sufficient.