“Ambassadors,” exclaimed Beck, “appear to me to be useless pawns. Surely our Embassy at St Petersburg must have been asleep not to have given the Government warning of the plans of Russia long ago. Preparations for war against a power like England are not made without very careful deliberation.”
“But can we be invaded?” I queried.
“No doubt,” Beck replied promptly. “The opinions of our greatest strategists are unanimous that, under certain conditions, France and Russia combined could invade our island. It is all very well for people to talk about England’s maritime power; but is it what we believe it to be? I think not.”
Having made a deep study of this very question, I was, although a loyal and patriotic Englishman, compelled to agree with him in a certain measure. Once, not so very long ago, it was generally believed, even by our greatest military and naval experts, that should England become engaged with a first-rate foreign Power, she could, single-handed, in a week close every one of her enemy’s ports and have a fleet ready to reduce at its leisure everything he held beyond the seas. Indeed, some authorities went so far as to declare that with almost any two Powers against her, she could do as much; and it was that recognition of this power abroad that gave England, in spite of her military weakness, so commanding a position in Europe. But since the Franco-Russian Alliance the increase in the fleets of the Powers had been so rapid that we had utterly failed to keep pace with them. We built huge, unwieldy battleships, while our enemies constructed the fastest cruisers and torpedo-boat destroyers afloat, thereby sweeping away our hitherto undisputed mastery of the sea.
“The great danger that appears to me,” Beck said presently, after we had been discussing the serious outlook at considerable length, “is that we may be blockaded by these two hostile powers, so as to reduce us near starvation, and compel us to surrender.”
“But not before we have engaged the enemy at sea and given them a taste of the lion’s paw,” I observed.
“Of course. First, we must expect a great naval battle or battles, followed by a dash upon our territory and the landing of the hostile armies. If England received one serious reverse at sea, she could never recover from it. The loss of her maritime power would paralyse her.”
“I know,” I said. “That argument is trite enough. But I, nevertheless, believe that England is still, and will be for many centuries to come, Queen of the Sea.”
“Oh! yes,” he said, rather contemptuously. “The cheap, clap-trap patriotism of the pot-house and the music-hall is all very well, but we, in the House of Commons, entertain a very different opinion. The belief in England’s greatness held by the lower classes is admirable, and, of course, ought to be carefully fostered, because it leads men to enlist in the Services. But you know, as well as I do, that in the Government Departments our naval strength is regarded as over-estimated in comparison with the power of some other European nations, and our military strength utterly inadequate. If it is really true that Russia is about to declare war against us, I fear the awakening of those confident of our insular security will be a terrible one.”
“Terrible no doubt it will be, on account of the fearful loss of life and property such a war must entail, but I anticipate that when the struggle comes every Englishman will bear arms for the defence of his home and loved ones, and that the foreign invader will meet with a reception the warmth of which he never expected.”