“There might be a way of enticing the German fleet into the open,” maintained the Colonial Minister.  “Let us send an ironclad squadron to Heligoland and bombard the island and its fortifications until it crumbles into the sea.  The acquisition of Heligoland was the Emperor William’s darling idea, and this monarch will take good care that Heligoland does not disappear from the earth’s surface.  But if, in spite of the bombardment of Heligoland, the Germans do not come out into the open sea, let us send our fleet up the Elbe and lay Hamburg in ashes.  Let our warships put to sea from Copenhagen and destroy Kiel harbour and all the German coast towns on the Baltic.  Then the German fleet will soon enough put out to meet us!”

“This plan has already been considered, and will perhaps be acted upon.  There are, however, two difficulties in the way.  First of all, by the destruction of unfortified towns we should be conjuring up odium against us, which—­”

“Nonsense! there is no ‘odium’ for a victor!  England would never have attained its present might and grandeur had it allowed itself to be deterred by a too delicate regard for humanity and the law of nations from taking practical steps.”

“Well, and then there is, at any rate, the second consideration.”

“And that is, my lord?”

“A battle of ships, even though they have the finest possible armour, against land fortifications, is always a hazardous undertaking, and more especially when the coasts are defended by innumerable mines and torpedo boats.  Moreover, ironclads are very expensive, and are, in a certain sense, very fragile things.”

“Fragile things?”

“The Germans have removed all their light-ships, all their buoys, and, like the French, the German ports are also defended by mines.  An ironclad, given calm sea, is strong as against another ship, but the nature of its build makes it weak in a storm and in insecure waters.  An ironclad, owing to its enormously heavy armament, goes to the bottom very rapidly, as soon as it gets a heavy list either on the one side or the other.  Again, owing to its enormous weight, it can never ram another vessel for fear of breaking to pieces itself; if a torpedo strikes its armour, or if the ship runs upon a mine, the explosion will send it to the bottom with greater ease than it would a wooden ship of a century ago.  And then, if it runs on a shallow or a rock it cannot be brought off again.  Moreover, its supply of coal requires to be constantly renewed, so that it cannot be sent on long expeditions.  Our ironclads have their own specific purpose—­they are intended for a naval battle.  But they are like giants, are rendered top-heavy by their own weight, and are thus easily capsized, and the loss of an ironclad battleship, apart from the effect it might have upon our chances in the war, entails the loss of more than a million pounds.  The cruisers, again, I would not without urgent necessity expose to the steel projectiles of a Krupp’s coast battery.  Let us take care not to suffer the smallest disaster at sea!  It would be as dangerous for our prestige and for our position as a world-power as a steel shot would be for the water-line of one of our ships of war.”