Chapter Twenty-four

London, The Admiralty

Mycroft Holmes was addressing the same assembly of naval brass and high civilian personages who had attended the previous meeting.

Ramsgate only half-listened as Mycroft reviewed the latest strains in the smouldering relationship between Britain and Germany. Ever since the young Kaiser Wilhelm had dismissed the “Iron Chancellor” Bismarck (and his careful policy of balancing European power), relations between the two nations had deteriorated. As long as Germany concentrated her military might on her efficient army, Britain could continue her policy of remaining aloof from the European rivalries. But now the German Navy was led by Grand Admiral Tirpitz, who, by gaining the Kaiser’s ear and shrewd moves in the Reichstag, was building a fleet in a direct challenge to the Royal Navy. Britain had to respond. She had a worldwide empire and a vast merchant fleet to protect. What’s more, Britain was an island that could not feed her people. Necessities came by sea.

Kipling’s poem, “The Big Steamers,” drove home this point. It ended with the verse:

For the bread that you eat and the biscuits you nibble

The sweets that you suck and the joints that you carve

They are brought to you daily by all us Big Steamers—

And if any one hinders our coming you’ll starve!

Kipling had done no more than give poetry to a hard reality. An imperial island nation could not survive without control of the sea. Britain had responded with a naval building programme of her own, and had also been forced into European alliances. The Dreadnought was merely Britain’s latest response in a game of move and counter-move. Any sane person, on a moment’s reflection, could see that the contest was pointless. Europe had never been more secure or prosperous. There was really nothing for the great powers to fight about. While Germany was late in the empire game and her hodge-podge of colonies made a very poor showing against the extensive holdings of the United Kingdom, Germany was quite wealthy without an extensive empire. Perhaps the young Kaiser simply wanted a big navy because his cousin on the British throne had one.

There was an old story that the architect who had been commissioned to design the Admiralty had brought their Lordships the plans for an insane asylum by mistake. Not wanting to admit the error, he presented the plans and they were approved. Ramsgate thought there was a certain irony in hearing the condition of a mad world in a building designed for lunatics. But then, it was also perhaps the first office building built by the British government, ushering in the modern era of an ever-expanding professional bureaucracy.

Mycroft finished up.

“… and if you get hopping immediately, you’ll just make the train to Glasgow. I’ll see you all tomorrow on board Dreadnought. Good luck.”

The meeting broke up and most left at once. As Ramsgate hurried past, Mycroft halted him with a raised finger. “Any communication from Lady Dorrington?”

“Not a word. She’s silent as a tomb.”