they, on their side, would necessarily have
begun by setting fire to something; and
unprejudiced History would, in that case also,
have looked on at her ease.

While the furze-bushes were blazing, the
remainder of the invaders—assured by the
sight of the flames, of their companions'
success so far—was disembarking, and swarming
up the rocks. When it was finally mustered
on the top of the cliff, the army amounted to
fourteen hundred men. This was the whole
force which the Directory of the French
Republic had thought it desirable to despatch
for the subjugation of Great Britain.
History, until she is certain of results, will
pronounce no opinion on the wisdom of
this proceeding. She knows that nothing
in politics, is abstractedly rash, cruel,
treacherous, or disgraceful—she knows that
Success is the sole touchstone of merit—
she knows that the man who fails is
contemptible, and the man who succeeds is
illustrious, without any reference to the means
used in either case; to the character of the
men; or to the nature of the motives under
which they may have proceeded to action. If
the Invasion succeeds, History will applaud
it as an act of heroism: if it fails, History will
condemn it as an act of folly.

It has been said that the Invasion began
creditably, according to the rules established
in all cases of conquering. It continued to
follow those rules with the most praise-
worthy regularity. Having started with
setting something on fire, it went on, in due
course, to accomplish the other first objects
of all Invasions, thieving and killing—
performing much of the former, and little of the
latter. Two rash Welshmen, who would defend
their native leeks, suffered accordingly:
the rest lost nothing but their national
victuals, and their national flannel. On this
first day of the Invasion, when the army had
done marauding, the results on both sides
may be thus summed up. Gains to the
French:—good dinners, and protection next
the skin. Loss to the English:—mutton,
stout Welsh flannel, and two rash country-
men.

V.   OF THE BRITISH DEFENCE, AND OF THE WAY
       IN WHICH THE WOMEN CONTRIBUTED TO IT.

THE appearance of the Frenchmen on the
coast, and the loss to the English, mentioned
above, produced the results naturally to be
expected. The country was alarmed, and
started up to defend itself.

This great and populous nation was just
as miserably incapable of protecting itself on
its own ground, and was just as lamentably
dependent on the help of a small minority of
fighting-men by profession, at that day, as it
is at the present time. Then, as now, the
strength, bravery, and numbers of Englishmen
availed them little in a case of warlike
emergency occurring at their own doors,
because not one able-bodied man out of five
hundred, in the entire population, understood
anything of the use of arms. One of
these days, this dangerous omission in the
education of Englishmen may come to be
remedied. May the lesson of reform be learnt
in this matter, before it is read to us for the
last time, traced in the indelible characters
of bloodshed and disgrace!

On the appearance of the Frenchmen, on
their numbers being known, and on its being
discovered that, though they were without
field-pieces, they had with them seventy
cart-loads of powder and ball, and a quantity
of grenades, the principal men in the country
bestirred themselves in setting up the
defence. Before nightfall, the whole available
number of men who knew anything of the
art of fighting was collected. When the
ranks were drawn out, the English defence
was even more ridiculous in point of numbers
than the French attack. It amounted—
at a time when we were at war with France,
and were supposed to be prepared for any
dangers that might threaten—it amounted,
including militia, fencibles, and yeomanry
cavalry, to just six hundred and sixty men,
or, in other words, to less than half the
number of the invading Frenchmen.

Fortunately for the credit of the nation,
the command of this exceedingly compact
force was taken by the principal grandee in
the neighbourhood, who turned out to be a
man of considerable cunning, as well as a
man of high rank, and who was known by
the style and title of the Earl of Cawdor.

The one cheering circumstance in
connection with the heavy responsibility which
now rested on the shoulders of the Earl
consisted in this: that he had apparently no
cause to dread internal treason as well as
foreign invasion. The remarkably inconvenient
spot which the French had selected for
their landing, showed, not only that they
themselves knew nothing of the coast, but
that none of the inhabitants, who might have
led them to an easier place of disembarkation,
were privy to their purpose. So far so good.
But still, the great difficulty remained of
facing the French with an equality of numbers,
and with the appearance, at least, of an
equality of discipline. The first of these
requisites it was easy to fulfil. There were
hosts of colliers and other labourers in
the neighbourhood,—big, bold, lusty fellows
enough; but so far as the art of marching
and using weapons was concerned, as helpless
as a pack of children. The question was,
how to make good use of these men for
show-purposes, without allowing them fatally
to embarrass the proceedings of their trained
and disciplined companions. In this
emergency, Lord Cawdor hit on a grand Idea.
He boldly mixed the women up in the
business—and it is unnecessary to add, that the
business prospered exceedingly from that
lucky moment.

In those days, the wives of the Welsh