The Cornhill Magazine (Vol. I, No. 6, June 1860)

22. As we shall show hereafter, the cost of fortifying London could be no obstacle: it would be an insignificant premium for such an insurance.

23. Fortification is the art of all others that seems at the present moment fitted to supply our wants. It is the very _complement of our volunteer movement_. We boast of the talent and intelligence of our volunteer defenders; and shall we neglect the means of turning that talent to the best and most profitable account? If our volunteers, from their superior intelligence, would make the best riflemen, surely these very qualities fit them in a still higher degree for engineers.

24. Fortification seems as if it were specially contrived for the benefit of England and Englishmen; for it makes money to do the work of soldiers. We are the richest country in Europe, with the smallest body of men under arms. Fortification will render irregular troops as good as, nay, even better than, regular. Our regular army is but a handful of men compared with the armies of other great powers; but thanks to our Volunteers, we are rich in perhaps the finest irregular troops in the world. Fortification affords the best guarantee against a _coup de main_; and such a mode of attack is precisely that which we have most reason to apprehend. Fortification gives the means of gaining time at the commencement of a campaign; and this of itself is a godsend to the ever unready Saxon.

25. There is every reason why we should largely avail ourselves of a science which above all others distinguishes the educated from the uneducated soldier, the man of intellect from the mere fighting machine.

26. We have shown not only that there is no valid objection to fortifications, but that they are the best means of defence for us, and that our metropolis is the point of all others that seems to stand in need of defence: it is the heart without a breast-plate.

27. We now therefore proceed to the practical application of the argument. _How_ should London be fortified?

28. In the minds of many may rise visions of an immense bulwark, a kind of great wall of China, drawn round London, and provided with ditches, drawbridges, and barred gates; and those who are acquainted with the customs of continental towns will probably connect them with barriers and _octrois_, and men examining your luggage and poking among your legs for contraband articles. On the contrary, now, thanks to our railways, our long-range guns, and to our volunteers, the fortifications which are necessary to secure London may be so unobtrusive, and so removed from the main highways, that no Londoner, save such as know what fortification really is, would ever realize the fact that they were in any way connected with its defence.

29. We only want half-a-dozen tolerably large forts, well placed, to form, as it were, the salient points of our defence. Let the reader refer to the diagram, and he will see six stars, one on Shooter’s Hill, one on Norwood Hill to the South of the Crystal Palace, one at or near Wimbledon, a fourth somewhere near Harrow, then at Mill Hill, and our last within good range of Enfield Lock. A set of dots (●) then come in about midway between the five spaces.

[Illustration]

30. Let us now consider the significance of the stars which denote forts: and first, that on Shooter’s Hill, as the most important.

31. The security of our great arsenal of Woolwich demands (independently of any plea of metropolitan defence) that this important position should be occupied by a work of considerable strength. Such a fortress would answer three purposes, each of them of paramount importance! In the first place, it would remedy the extremely insecure state, and to an enemy the most tempting defencelessness, of our greatest military manufactories and arsenal; secondly, it would, by means of its outworks, effectually bar the Thames from any gun-boat attack; and thirdly, it would form one of the angles of our great polygon of positions for the defence of London. The next of these angles would be at the spur of Norwood Hill; where it would be necessary to construct a considerable fort. The third permanent work would come in the immediate vicinity of Wimbledon, where the range of hills again spurs out to the South; and these three would complete the salient angles of the southern half of the defence of London. Probably two works of a like nature would suffice for the northern division; and a third might be added in the direction of, and perhaps either within range of, or covering Enfield Lock, the great rifle factory for the Army.

32. These five or six forts should be regular permanent works, and of sufficient importance to be secure against a _coup de main_: in fact, to compel an enemy to sit down before them for a siege of greater or less duration. They should all be armed with heavy long-range guns, and should besides contain surplus stores of both guns and ammunition for the armament of other works, to be hereafter described.

33. Such would be all the extent of fortification necessary to be undertaken at first; but to complete the chain, it would be requisite that plots of ground should be acquired in suitable positions: generally, one between each of the permanent forts; and on each of these pieces of ground should be carefully traced the outline of an earthen work, of extent and form to suit each particular case.

34. The execution of these works could be undertaken by the garrisons of the permanent works, which would be relieved from time to time. They would thus form a series of military industrial schools, in which a large proportion of our troops might learn the all-important and much-neglected art, how to use a spade in their own defence. Perhaps some of our volunteers would not be above taking a few lessons of the same kind. Such as have formed themselves into engineer corps would of course do so, and we should thus be able to place another important mode of defence in the hands of these gentlemen. The outworks of the main forts, indeed, might be executed by the same means, and they could thus be kept continually being increased in strength.

35. The secondary earth-works would either be armed at once, upon the completion of the _enceinte_, or they might be supplied with guns and ammunition from the main permanent works when occasion might require. In the latter case, their cost would be very trifling, as it would not be necessary to construct permanent magazines or stores.

36. These two sets of works having been completed, it would then merely remain to have the spaces of ground between the several forts carefully considered, with a view to their occupation by a series of smaller works, either enclosed or open to the rear. The latter might in this case be left to be undertaken upon the menace of attack.

37. We should then have London surrounded by a series of strong points of resistance, consisting of chains of detached works, with large intervals between them, through which our regular and irregular troops might advance and retire, and act with a perfect certainty of success.

38. As to the garrisons of the permanent works; we have the Artillery at Woolwich, who would garrison their own fort at Shooter’s Hill, and thus be on the spot to assist in the armament of the secondary works.

39. Now that we have given up the idea of employing our troops as police, we may surely abolish a large proportion of our London barracks, and give the Guards the benefit of suburban quarters. By this means we should do much towards improving the health of the troops, and the sale of the ground on which many of the present barracks are built would go far towards supplying the cost for the construction of those now proposed.

40. As the presence of a considerable strength of engineers would be necessary in the construction of the various secondary works, it would be advisable that one of the large forts should be garrisoned by this force. This would, perhaps, be best accomplished by the removal of our School of Military Engineers from Chatham; and it would be most conveniently located at Wimbledon, where the necessary waste ground could be obtained for practice in earth-works, while the Thames at Richmond would be sufficiently close for practice in hydraulic works and in pontooning. Moreover, the entire force round the metropolis would be able to avail themselves of this additional means of military education: indeed the engineers themselves, however learned or scientific they may be, would be none the worse for being placed within nearer reach of the various meetings of learned and scientific societies which are always taking place in the metropolis.

41. Let us now review the positions that we trust we have established. We have London surrounded by a cordon of detached forts, showing in every direction an armed front. We have water communication from east to west of the position, and ample communication by railway and telegraph in all directions, and to every fort. The leading lines of railway and the river are everywhere barred, and these very lines put us in communication with our great camps at Aldershott, Colchester, and Shorncliffe. Within our circle of forts we have, in material, the whole resources of the nation in artillery, military stores, small-arms, and ammunition; and as regards the _personal_, we include the head-quarters of the artillery, our picked troops, the Guards, the Engineers, the largest companies of Volunteer corps in the country, and, finally, a population of 8,000,000 from which to recruit: and with such a position to defend, every man might be a soldier. We have also the means of obtaining unlimited supplies of all kinds from the country, and of despatching troops in different directions: for the idea of investing a position of such extent and situation could not for a moment be entertained by any army that could be introduced into this country.

42. With such defences, London might be safely entrusted to the keeping of a garrison of Volunteers, with but a sprinkling of regulars; so that the entire Army and Militia would be left free to take the field. Such a state of things would afford absolute security; for no enemy would then be mad enough to dream of a descent upon the heart of our empire. With London safe, and our army thus reinforced by the covering force that would otherwise be constantly required to defend it, we might, indeed, laugh at the menace of invasion.

43. What, then, should hinder us from at once putting ourselves beyond the probability of surprise? In point of inconvenience to the metropolis, it would be no more than the forts at Dover. The expense would be a mere nothing to what we are spending every day in less important matters. We are annually building large barracks for our troops; we have only to build the next six that we require in these particular positions; so that, with the exception of those to supply the place of the guards’ barracks, the outlay for barracks may be almost omitted from the calculation: and in the case of these, their cost would be met by the sale of their present sites.

44. Again, in calculating the expense, the main works at Shooter’s Hill may be thrown out; as they must, of necessity, be undertaken for the defence of Woolwich, and do not come within the category of works executed solely for the protection of London.

45. What, therefore, remains to be done at once, is to purchase, say, five plots of ground of fifty acres each, and six plots of thirty acres each, in all, 430 acres of land: this, considering that some of the sites are waste land, may possibly be put down at 200_l._ per acre = 86,000_l._ The main works may, perhaps, be estimated at 80,000_l._ each, or 400,000_l._; so that the entire cost would not exceed half a million sterling, excluding Woolwich, which must be fortified in any case: an amount far less than that which the nation is spending ungrudgingly in constructing iron plated vessels, which, at best, are only experimental, and may prove failures.

46. A sum of half a million spent on the construction of six large Forts, would, in the next twelve months, establish a firm and adequate basis for all future defence. The field-works between the forts might be executed by the garrisons in them, whilst the smaller earth-works need not be thrown up until there was an absolute threat, or an imminent danger of invasion. Surely, the spirit which has evoked the Volunteers, will provide the funds to make London impregnable, and invasion, therefore, hopeless.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Such an omission seems hardly credible; but the Commission published in the _London Gazette_ of 26th August, 1859, recites only that inquiries are to be made “into the present state, condition, and sufficiency of the fortifications existing for the defence of our United Kingdom, and of examining into all works at present in progress for the improvement thereof, and for considering the most effectual means of rendering the same complete, especially all such works of defence as are intended for the protection of our royal arsenals and dockyards in case of any hostile attack being made by foreign enemies both by sea and land.” Not a word about the metropolis.

[2] “Mais si soixante mille Français prenaient terre entre Hastings et Douvres, et qu’une bataille heureuse leur permit de s’avancer jusque sur les borde de la Medway et de la Tamise, ils pourraient, en vingt-quatre heures, détruire plusieurs milliards de matériels et de marchandise, et porter à la fortune de l’Angleterre un coup dont elle aurait peine à se relever.”—_Extract of Lieut.-Col. Ardent’s (of the Corps du Génie) paper on “The Defence of the Country south of London,” from papers on subjects connected with the duties of the corps of Royal Engineers._ 1849.

[3] “If, in 1814, Paris had possessed a citadel capable of holding out for only eight days, the destinies of the world would have been changed. If, in 1805, Vienna had been fortified, the battle of Ulm would not have decided the war. If, in 1806, Berlin had been fortified, the army beaten at Jena might have rallied there till the Russian army advanced to its relief. If, in 1808, Madrid had been fortified, the French army, after the victories of Espenosa, Indela, and Somosierra, could never have ventured to march upon that capital, leaving the English army in the neighbourhood of Salamanca in its rear.”—_Alison’s Europe_, c. 37.

Lovel the Widower.

CHAPTER VI.

CECILIA’S SUCCESSOR.

[Illustration]

Monsieur et honore Lecteur! I see, as perfectly as if you were sitting opposite to me, the scorn depicted on your noble countenance, when you read my confession that I, Charles Batchelor, Esquire, did burglariously enter the premises of Edward Drencher, Esquire, M.R.C.S.I. (phew! the odious pestle-grinder, I never could bear him!) and break open, and read a certain letter, his property. I may have been wrong, but I am candid. I tell my misdeeds; some fellows hold their tongues. Besides, my good man, consider the temptation, and the horrid insight into the paper which Bedford’s report had already given me. Would _you_ like to be told that the girl of your heart was playing at fast and loose with it, had none of her own, or had given hers to another? I don’t want to make a Mrs. Robin Gray of any woman, and merely because “her mither presses her sair” to marry her against her will. “If Miss Prior,” thought I, “prefers this lint-scraper to me, ought I to balk her? He is younger, and stronger, certainly, than myself. Some people may consider him handsome. (By the way, what a remarkable thing it is about many women, that, in affairs of the heart, they don’t seem to care or understand whether a man is a gentleman or not.) It may be it is my superior fortune and social station which may induce Elizabeth to waver in her choice between me and my bleeding, bolusing, toothdrawing rival. If so, and I am only taken from mercenary considerations, what a pretty chance of subsequent happiness do either of us stand! Take the vaccinator, girl, if thou preferrest him! I know what it is to be crossed in love already. It’s hard, but I can bear it! I ought to know, I must know, I _will_ know what is in that paper!” So saying, as I pace round and round the table where the letter lies flickering white under the midnight taper, I stretch out my hand—I seize the paper—I——well, I own it—there—yes—I took it, and I read it.

[Illustration: LOVEL’S MOTHERS]

Or rather, I may say, I read that part of IT which the bleeder and blisterer had flung down. It was but a fragment of a letter—a fragment—oh! how bitter to swallow! A lump of Epsom salt could not have been more disgusting. It appeared (from Bedford’s statement) that Æsculapius, on getting into his gig, had allowed this scrap of paper to whisk out of his pocket—the rest he read, no doubt, under the eyes of the writer. Very likely, during the perusal, he had taken and squeezed the false hand which wrote the lines. Very likely the first part of the _precious document_ contained compliments to him—from the horrible context I judge so—compliments to that vendor of leeches and bandages, into whose heart I daresay I wished ten thousand lancets might be stuck, as I perused the FALSE ONE’S wheedling address to him! So ran the document. How well every word of it was engraven on my anguished heart. If page _three_, which I suppose was about the bit of the letter which I got, was as it was—what must page _one_ and _two_ have been? The dreadful document began, then, thus:—

“——dear hair in the locket, which I shall _ever_ wear for the sake of _him who gave it_”—(dear hair! indeed—disgusting carrots! She should have been ashamed to call it “dear hair”)—“for the sake of him who gave it, and whose _bad temper_ I shall pardon, because I think, in spite of his faults, he is a _little fond_ of his poor Lizzie! Ah, Edward! how _could_ you go on so the last time about poor Mr. B.! Can you imagine that I can ever have more than a filial regard for the kind old gentleman?” (_Il était question de moi, ma parole d’honneur._ _I_ was the kind old gentleman!) “I have known him since my childhood. He was intimate in our family in earlier and happier days; made our house his home; and, I must say, was most kind to all of us children. If he has vanities, you naughty boy, is he the only one of his sex who is vain? Can you fancy that such an old creature (an _old muff_, as you call him, you wicked, satirical man!) could ever make an impression on my heart? No, sir!” (Aha! So I was an old muff, was I?) “Though I don’t wish to make _you_ vain too, or that other people should laugh at you, as you do at poor dear Mr. B., I think, sir, you need but look _in your glass_ to see that you need not be afraid of such a rival as _that_. You fancy he is attentive to me? If you looked only a little angrily at him, he would fly back to London. To-day, when your _horrid little patient_ did presume to offer to take my hand, when I boxed his little wicked ears and sent him _spinning_ to the end of the room—poor Mr. Batch was so _frightened_ that he did not _dare_ to come into the room, and I saw him peeping behind a statue on the lawn, and he would not come in until the _servants arrived_. Poor man! We cannot all of us have courage like _a certain Edward_, who I know is as _bold as a lion_. Now, sir, you must not be quarrelling with that wretched little captain for being rude. I have shown him that I can very well _take care of myself_. I knew the _odious thing_ the first moment I set eyes on him, though he had forgotten me. Years ago I met him, and I remember he was equally _rude and tips_——”

Here the letter was torn. Beyond “_tips_” it did not go. But that was enough, wasn’t it? To this woman I had offered a gentle and manly, I may say a kind and tender heart—I had offered four hundred a year in funded property, besides my house in Devonshire Street, Bloomsbury—and she preferred _Edward_, forsooth, at the sign of the Gallipot: and may ten thousand pestles smash my brains!