The British Fleet, by a sad mischance, had disappeared.
It was then that the Nation had to depend upon its second line of
defence--the Army.
The enemy flushed with victory, attempted to land, but were met with
such a withering fire from the Volunteer Artillery, that they had to
abandon the attempt in despair--at least for awhile. They retired
for the night, and on the following morning were in front of
Westgate-on-Sea. It was then found how wise the Committee of Home
Defence had been in their recommendation. Feeling sure that the forces
of the Crown would be ample to beat back any hostile attempt to seize
a town the centre of one of the best of charities (St. Michael's
Convalescent Home), the Committee had deprecated the suggestion of
erecting extensive fortifications. Practically Westgate was without
walls. But there was a better defence than brickwork. The Authorities
had not been idle during the night, having utilised the Pause in the
war to bring up two magnificent battalions of Militia--the 7th Rifle
Brigade and the 4th Cheshire Regiment. Thus when the enemy succeeded
in effecting a landing, they found themselves confronted by the very
flower of the British Army. In ten minutes the hostile host were
crumpled up like a sheet of paper, and disappeared in hot retreat.
During the following week the entire army of the foe was allowed to
land in England, and were speedily exterminated. The contract given
out by Government to an advertising undertaker was the means of making
that contractor's fortune. Within ten days England was absolutely free
from invasion.
"And are you surprised?" asked a journalist, addressing the greatest
tactician of the century.
"Surprised!" echoed the other. "Why it was what we all expected from
the first!"