country, and a Royal Commission, in 1859, recommended an expenditure of £10,000,000 on the fixed defences of our naval arsenals. There seemed no one to urge that, if the state of navy was such as to render an attack on any of these places other than a desperate undertaking, the first step should be to strengthen the fleet. But the naval voice was silent, or nearly so. The military element in the country had become predominant, while the words of St Vincent and Pellew were forgotten. We had almost accepted the situation of an inferior naval power. How far we had wandered from the principles that guided us in 1804 can be estimated on reading the debate in the House of Commons, in 1860, on the motion to fortify the ports. Lord Palmerston said on this occasion: ’I am not surprised that the gallant admiral should undervalue the strength of fortifications; but, nevertheless, I think the history of war shows that they do enable an inferior force to hold out for a certain time against a superior force.' The 'gallant admiral' was Sir Charles Napier, who had said that 'the only sure way to prevent invasion was to have always at hand a superior fleet to the French or any other nation.' He quoted the saying of Mr Tierney, 'give me a well-manned fleet and a full Exchequer and I will defy the world.' But it was of no avail, and we embarked upon a system of elaborate fortification, based upon the assumed defeat, absence, or inferiority of the only line of defence which could not be neglected with impunity.
