We fought, yes; when it came to the critical hour, we fought for dear life and liberty--fought hard, fought desperately, but under conditions that made comparative defeat inevitable. And the fight was for unequal stakes. To us it was an issue of life or death. To our foes it was an affair of wounds that would heal. The law of nations, the law of humanity, itself counted for nothing in that deadly and colossal struggle. Our merchant ships were sent to the bottom, crews and all. No advantage of strength or numbers served to inspire magnanimity. It was a fight, bloody, desperate, and remorseless for the sovereignty of the seas, a fight to the bitter end. And it was over, for all practical purposes, in a week. The British Government did not dare to maintain the struggle any longer. The Navy would have fought on till victory had been attained or every British warship had been sunk or disabled. The spirit of the service did credit to both officers and men, for much had been feared from disaffection. Socialism had crept into the fleet. Political cheapjacks with their leaflets and promises had sown discord between officers and men, and here and there had been clear indications of a mutinous spirit. But when it came to the pinch, one and all--officers, seamen, and stokers--had manfully done their duty. Where they were victorious, they were humane. When they were beaten, they faced the fortune of war, and death itself, with firmness and discipline. But all in vain as regards the general result. England's rulers for the time being, alarmed at the accumulating signs of a crumbling empire, daunted by the popular disturbances that broke out in London and the provinces, made all haste to negotiate such terms of peace, and agreed to such an indemnity that the dust of Nelson, and of Pitt, may well have shivered in their graves. Peace, peace at any price! was the cry. Peace now, lest a worse thing happen through a continuance of the struggle. Germany, however, would not have stayed her hand, and England would have become a conscript province, but for the daring feat of a little band of Englishmen. Six of them, in the best equipped air-ship that money could buy, by means of bombs almost entirely destroyed the enormous works of Messrs. Krupp at Essen. By this means Germany's resources were so gravely prejudiced that it suited her to stay her hand for the time being. Out of this act of retaliation sprang the famous Air-Ship Convention, of which the outcome will appear presently. During these dire events the women had votes, and many of them had seats in Parliament. Their sex was dominant. They heard the cry of the children. The men heard the lamentations of the women, and were unmanned.