arms were
performed on shore, in India or in the Crimea. There were also many
small wars on land, and it may well have seemed to contemporaries
that the days of great naval contests were over and that force
of circumstances was converting us into a military from a naval
nation. The belief in the efficacy of naval defence was not extinct,
but it had ceased to operate actively. Even whilst the necessity
of that form of defence was far more urgent, inattention to or
ignorance of its true principles had occasionally allowed it to
grow weak, but the possibility of substituting something else for
it had not been pressed or even suggested. To this, however, we
had now come; and it was largely a consequence of the Crimean war.
In that war the British Army had nobly sustained its reputation
as a fighting machine. For the first time after a long interval
it had met in battle European troops, and had come out of the
conflict more renowned for bravery than ever. Nothing seemed
able to damp its heroism--not scantiness of food, not lack of
clothing amidst bitter cold, not miserable quarters, not superior
forces of a valiant enemy. It clung to its squalid abodes in the
positions which it was ordered to hold with a tenacious fortitude
that had never been surpassed in its glorious history, and that
defied all assaults. In combination with its brave allies it
brought to a triumphant conclusion a war of an altogether peculiar
character.

The campaign in the Crimea was in reality the siege of a single
fortress. All the movements of the Western invaders were undertaken
to bring them within striking distance of the place, to keep
them within reach of it, or to capture it. Every battle that
occurred was fought with one of those objects. When the place
fell the war ended. The one general who, in the opinion of all
concerned, gained high distinction in the war was the general
who had prolonged the defence of Sebastopol by the skilful use
of earthworks. It was no wonder that the attack and defence of
fortified places assumed large importance in the eyes of the
British people. The command of the sea held by the allied powers
was so complete and all-pervading that no one stopped to think
what the course of hostilities would have been without it, any
more than men stop to think what the course of any particular
business would be if there were no atmosphere to breathe in.
Not a single allied soldier had been delayed on passage by the
hostile fle