by Gen. Sir Edward Hamley, K.C.B.
In considering the Empire
of Russia it might at first sight appear that a country at once so
vast and so backward in civilisation would find ample
employment for the wisest and most energetic ruler in
endeavours to develop in all directions -- physical, intellectual,
and moral -- its latent resources, rather than in the maintenance
of great armies for designs of conquest. And that this course
would greatly increase the wealth and influence of Russia, and
the happiness of its people, cannot be doubted. But there are other considerations which have
prevailed to dictate a policy of aggression.
In the first place, what we call progress is opposed to
absolutism. If the immense populations of such vast portions
of the earth were imbued with the ideas of the peoples of
Europe, they would no longer submit to the will of one man;
and when under these circumstances a Czar should become
impossible, no one can say what kind of government, or what
number of separate governments, might replace him. For the
maintenance of his power it is necessary to keep the people
ignorant, and, further, to divert their attention from their own
lot by fixing it on the alluring spectacle of foreign conquests.
Yet, besides this motive, it must be confessed that a
great temptation stands for ever before the eye of a Czar when
he looks towards Turkey. He sees there all that Russia wants to
give her power and prosperity commensurate with the extent of
her dominion. He sees the beautiful harbours of the Bosphorus,
whence a Russian navy, secured from all enemies by the
narrow passage of the Dardanelles, might dominate the
Mediterranean ; and he sees, too, a city marked out by nature
to become a splendid capital, and an overflowing emporium of
commerce. Possessed of these, he need set no limit to his
dreams of the greatness of Russia. It is not surprising,
therefore, if a race of rulers, not less unscrupulous and
ambitious than autocrats in general have proved to be, should
always have looked on Constantinople as what ought to be
their own.
Fortunately for Turkey, and the world, there are
many difficulties in the way of the realisation of these
aspirations. No other Power can desire that a rival should attain
to such an overshadowing height. Neither England, nor France,
nor Italy, nor Germany, could with indifference see Russia
acquire such means of bringing her huge force to bear. And
Austria has an interest beyond others in preventing the
design. For Russia, if established in Turkey, would enclose
within her new territory a large portion of the Austrian Empire,
producing there a state of permanent insecurity and alarm, and
would, moreover, include and control the lower Danube.
It is, therefore, only at some favourable conjuncture
that Russia can hope to prosecute her cherished design. And
in the beginning of 1853 circumstances seemed to be
exceptionally promising. The Emperor of Austria, almost a boy,
repaid with affection and reverence the kindness evinced for
him by the potent and experienced autocrat. He was, too, under
an obligation of the most onerous kind to his great neighbour,
who, when Austria was almost crushed by Hungary, had
intervened, suppressed the revolt, and restored the
discontented kingdom to its allegiance. Moreover, the
Kaiser had allowed himself just then to assume an attitude
menacing to the Porte, for, in suppressing an insurrection in
Montenegro, the Turkish troops, operating near the Austrian
frontier, had received from him a peremptory notice to
withdraw. The Czar had readily joined in enforcing the demand,
and thus it happened that Austria found herself acting with
Russia against Turkey -- a position which illustrates the consequences that may ensue when a State allows itself to be drawn into trivial issues divergent from its main
policy. Nicholas, therefore, assumed with confidence that he
would meet with no opposition from the Kaiser.
Prussia's interest in the question was not so obvious or
pressing as Austria's, while the King (the Czar's brother-in-law)
had always expressed for him the utmost deference, a
sentiment which was found to be a constant source of
difficulty when endeavours were made for the 'concurrent
action of the Four Great Powers.
As to France, it was not easy to foresee what policy
might commend itself to Louis Napoleon. New to the throne,
and engaged in feeling around for support in that as yet
precarious seat, no indications were visible of the course to
which his interests might incline him. But whatever his
tendencies might prove to be, it seemed very unlikely that the
Empire would begin its career as a belligerent either by singly
opposing Russia, or by ranging itself against England, who, in
the course of the summer, gave proof, in a great naval review,
of her ability to bring a paramount influence into any military
enterprise in which command of the sea would be a main
condition.
Assuming, then, that Austria were favourable, or
neutral, the course which England might take became the prime
consideration. Hitherto she had done nothing to encourage the
design of Russia, for to maintain Turkey as an independent
state was her traditional policy. But, in the long interval of
peace since Waterloo, not only had we given no sign of an intention to support that
policy by force of arms, but we were believed to be absorbed as
a people in those commercial pursuits of the success of which
peace is one very favouring condition; while, as if to emphasise
this supposed state of feeling, Lord Aberdeen, our Prime
Minister, had become noted for his repugnance to any course
which might tend to a resort to arms.
Opportunity
The Czar was led by all these considerations to believe that
the opportunity had come for giving effect to the idea which,
during his visit to England in 1844, he had conveyed to the
British Government. While expressing his conviction "that it
was for the common interest of Russia and England that the
Ottoman Porte should maintain itself in a condition of
independence," yet "they must not conceal from themselves
how many elements of dissolution that empire contains within
itself: unforeseen circumstances may hasten its fall"; and
thence he came to the conclusion that "the danger which may
result from a catastrophe in Turkey will be much diminished if
Russia and England have come to an understanding as to the
course to be taken by them in common."
It was in unison with these utterances that he addressed to
Sir Hamilton Seymour, the British Ambassador at St
Petersburgh, on the 9th of January 1853, the parable which has
become historical.
Meanwhile, a cause of dispute already existed between
Russia and Turkey. A jealousy had long been cherished
between the monks of the Greek and Latin Churches in the
Holy Land-which of these should enjoy most privilege and consideration was a question that,
some little time before, had once more risen into prominence.
Which of them should enter earliest in the day into the Church
of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, or should have possession
of the key of the Great Church of Bethlehem, were the
questions of immediate concern.
The Czar took up warmly the cause of the Greek Church, of
which he was the head, and which looked to him as its
champion; and it may be urged in reply to those who look on
the dispute as trivial, that it did not seem so to the Russian
people, and, therefore, could not seem so to the Czar. The
French Emperor had taken the side of the Latin Church. It is not
to be supposed that he could be actuated by any superstitious,
or even earnest, feeling in favour of such claims. But he was
only following the policy pursued by the French monarchy in
1819, during a similar ferment of the question, when it claimed
to act as the hereditary protector of the Catholics in the East
since the time of Francis the First, and he must therefore be
acquitted of taking his course merely from a desire to do what
was hostile or provocative to Russia.
Each of these sovereigns endeavoured to put pressure on
the Sultan for a decision in favour of his own clients; and that
hapless potentate, who could not be expected to evince any
warmer sentiment than toleration towards either of the two
infidel sects, which every true Mahometan must hold in
abhorrence, made it his aim to satisfy both sovereigns, and
offend neither. But his attempt, though clever, was ineffectual,
and the result was that he only partially satisfied the Latin sect, while
he excited such indignation, real or simulated, in the Czar, that
Nicholas at once moved two army corps to the frontier of the
Danubian Principalities as a menace, and immediately
afterwards sent Prince Menschikoff as a Special Envoy to
Constantinople, whose instructions must have been such as
were quite inconsistent with a desire for an amicable settlement,
for the British Ambassador described the language conveying
his demands as "a mixture of angry complaints and friendly
assurances, accompanied with peremptory requisitions as to
the Holy Places in Palestine, indications of some ulterior views,
and a general tone of insistence bordering sometimes on
intimidation."
Thus the hostile menace was made to appear to turn on
the matter of the Holy Places. But, in considering the origin of
the war, it must not be forgotten that all the Czar professed to
demand was the possession, and possibly the monopoly, of
certain religious privileges, whereas the event which he desired
to precipitate was something very different, and entirely
disproportionate, namely, the dismemberment of Turkey. This
was presently made plain when the Sultan put an end to the
immediate dispute by acceding to the claims of Menschikoff.
The question of the Holy Places, thus settled, could no
longer supply the pretext for war; what it did supply was the
opportunity for prolonging the quarrel, by confusing fresh
demands with the original dispute, and for rousing religious
feeling in Russia against Turkey.
Accordingly, the Czar's Envoy, instead of accepting the concession as closing
the dispute, put forth a fresh and larger pretension, requiring
the Sultan to join in a convention which would virtually give
Nicholas the protectorate of all the Christian subjects of the
Porte.
The nature of this demand was thus characterised by our
Foreign Secretary, Lord Clarendon: "No sovereign, having
proper regard for his own dignity and independence, could
admit proposals which conferred upon another and more
powerful sovereign a right of protection over his own subjects.
Fourteen millions of Greeks would henceforth regard the
Emperor as their supreme protector, and their allegiance to the
Sultan would be little more than nominal, while his own
independence would dwindle into vassalage." And, indeed,
there was a terrible precedent to warn Turkey, for the Empress
Catherine had claimed a similar protectorate in Poland, in which
she had very soon found the means of extending her dominion
over its territory.
The Sultan's Ministers, therefore, no doubt counselled
and supported by our Ambassador, Lord Stratford, who
exercised a control over our relations with Turkey of a
singularly independent character, promptly refused to entertain
Menschikoff's proposal. To this refusal the Czar responded by
causing his troops, on the 2d of July, to pass the frontier river,
the Pruth, and take control of the Danubian Principalities; and
next day he issued a manifesto, stating that in doing so "it was
not his intention to commence war, but to have such security
as would ensure the restoration of the rights of Russia."
This invasion might have been justly met by the Sultan
with a counter declaration of war, and the martial spirit of his
people was so thoroughly roused as to render the step
imminent. But the Western Powers, in their solicitude to
preserve peace, stayed it for a moment, while the
representatives of France, England, Austria, and Prussia, met in
conference at Vienna, in the hope of finding a means of
averting war.
They framed a diplomatic instrument known as the
Vienna Note, which, in their eagerness to soothe the Czar, was
couched in terms that might be interpreted as sanctioning his
pretensions, and which indeed (as the Austrian Government
had taken means to ascertain) he would accept. On receiving
this Note he at once signified his readiness to assent to it. The
reply of the Turkish Government was not so speedily given,
and the Mediatory Powers strongly urged it to signify
acceptance. But when its reply came, it was found to point out
that the Note could be construed as re-embodying the
dangerous pretensions of the Czar, and that, unless certain
specified modifications were introduced, the Porte must refuse
its assent ; while Lord Stratford advised his Government that
these objections were well founded.
This made fresh correspondence necessary, in the
course of which it slipped out that the Russian interpretation of
the Note confirmed the apprehensions of the Porte. The
Mediatory Powers, at last aware of their singular error,
perceived that their Note could be held to affirm new rights of
interference on the part of Russia, and not merely (as the Czar
had hitherto pretended) the confirmation of old privileges. They could no longer, therefore,
support their original Note; the Czar, on his part, refused to
accept the Turkish modifications of it, and the Porte felt itself
compelled to demand the evacuation of the Principalities within
fifteen days, with war as the alternative. This summons being
disregarded, a state of war between the two countries ensued
on the 23d October 1853; but for some time no acts of hostility
took place beyond the assembly and movement of their
respective forces.
How the West Became Involved in War
The course of events that led to war between Russia
and Turkey having been thus traced, it remains to follow the
steps by which the Western Powers were drawn on to join in it.
It has often been said that England drifted into the war. This
was so far true that there was for us no sharp crisis, no clash of
great national interests, which only the appeal to arms could
compose., Our part in the war was the result of a state of feeling
gradually aroused by observation of what was passing in the
East, and of the steps which the British Government, with
intentions anything but warlike, had slowly taken, tending to
commit it to the active support of Turkey.
Up to the time (after the issuing of the Turkish
ultimatum) when the French and English fleets were ordered to
move to the Bosphorus, it had been possible for England to
restrict her part to the field of diplomacy. And that she should
have committed herself to the side of Turkey was not due to her
traditional policy only, for the ostensible grounds of quarrel
between the two Eastern Powers were not such as necessarily
to draw her from her attitude of mediator. What had impelled her on
her course was the knowledge that below these grounds
lurked the true design of the Czar. This had been made clear by
his own words to the British Ambassador, already referred to,
and in various conversations in January and February 1853.
But this view was not left to stand alone; it was enforced
by an inducement. "I can only say, that if, in the event of a
distribution of the Ottoman succession, upon the fall of the
Empire, you should take possession of Egypt, I shall have no
objection to offer. I would say the same thing of Candia: that
island might suit you and I do not know why it should not
become an English possession."
The voice which uttered this was the voice of the one
potentate who had an interest in precipitating the catastrophe,
and who was then taking such a course as might immediately
lead to it. Vain indeed the effort to spread his net in the sight of
those whom he had thus himself enlightened. But it seems
likely-indeed there is no other explanation-that he had
forgotten, or dropped out of sight, this complete showing of
his hand.
As was natural in an autocrat whose faculty for rule lay in
the strength of his will, not of his judgment, he had accustomed
himself to confound what he desired with what he believed in ; and
absorbed for the moment in his parade of sympathy with the
Christians in Turkey, he had come to consider this as his true
motive, and expected others to adopt that view also. So
complete was this illusion, that it was long before he had begun
to realise the possibility of being opposed by England.
At first he had assumed her toleration, if not her
concurrence, to be certain. And even when he was at war with
Turkey, and the fleets had been despatched to the Bosphorus,
he sent an autograph letter to the Queen, expressing surprise
that there should be any misunderstanding between the
Queen's Government and his own as to the affairs of Turkey,
and appealing to Her Majesty's "good faith" and "wisdom " to
decide between them.
Thus it is evident that it was Russia that had been the first
Power to "drift" into war, and this was owing to the false view
taken by the Czar. Starting with the belief that Turkey would be
left unsupported, he had gone on to assume that he would, by
the display of his forces, coerce her into compliance with the
measure which would give him the means of, at any time,
quarrelling with and crushing her, that England would
acquiesce, and that, if she did, he might disregard the other
Powers; and thus he had been led into a position from which he
could not recede without war.
And the delusion under which he took these steps contains
one of the important lessons that render history of value as a
guide and a warning. There is a general concurrence that he
confided in the belief that England was entirely absorbed in the
pursuit of wealth, through manufactures and commerce, and could no longer be
induced to fight for a principle, a sentiment, or an ally. Even
after Lord Aberdeen had been impelled to take action directly
tending to war, the Czar still believed that a community which
made the exaltation and worship of trade the mainspring of its
policy, and which listened complacently to the denunciation of
war as an unmixed evil, would never be roused into armed
resistance to his projects.
How far a more determined tone on the part of our Ministry,
at an early stage of his course of aggression, would have
effectually checked it, may be matter of speculation. But there
can be no doubt, judging from his own language and his own
acts, that his not unreasonable persuasion of the degeneracy of
our national character was a main element in producing the
state of mind which rendered him so fatally domineering and
precipitate in the pursuit of his ends, and so regardless of the
decencies of public law.
At the time of Menschikoff's mission, Lord Stratford,
having resigned his post, was in England. But the difficulties
which that mission was creating seemed again to demand his
commanding influence on the spot, and he had been desired to
resume his functions. The instructions given to him, conceived
in a spirit of conciliation to Russia, in a matter which, on the
surface, did not vitally concern us, were to admonish the Porte
to show increased consideration for its Christian subjects. But,
at the same time, remembering what lay under the surface, the
Government empowered him, in case of imminent danger to
Turkey, to request the Commander of our Mediterranean Squadron, then lying at Malta, to hold it in
readiness to move, though he was not to call it up without
orders from the Home Government.
But when Menschikoff, on the removal of his first
grievance, put forth his other and more dangerous claim, the
British Government perceived that it could no longer depend in
any degree on the good faith of the Czar. At the end of May
1853, when Menschikoff departed from Constantinople,
breathing war, Lord Clarendon instructed Lord Stratford that it
was indispensable to take measures for the protection of the
Sultan, and to aid him by force, if necessary, in repelling an
attack upon his territory, and in defence of the independence of
Turkey, which England, he declared, "was bound to maintain."
At the same time, in a despatch to St Petersburgh, he
required to be informed what object the Czar had in view, "and
in what manner, and to what extent, the dominions of the Sultan,
and the tranquillity of Europe were threatened?"
A few days afterwards the Allied squadrons moved up the
Mediterranean, and anchored in the neighbourhood of the
Dardanelles, which the Sultan was bound by treaty to keep
closed to the fleets of other Powers so long as Turkey was at
peace.
On the 22d October, the day before Turkey declared war,
the fleets entered the Dardanelles. The Ambassadors had been
instructed to call them up to Constantinople, "for the security of
British and French interests, and, if necessary, for the
protection of the Sultan." The step was precipitated by the
apprehension of fanatical disturbances in the Turkish capital.
It has been generally assumed that the circumstances
under which the French Empire had recently come into
existence demanded that its chief should make war on
somebody, in order to divert attention from the origin of his
power, and to give employment to an army which might
otherwise become dangerous. It may be readily granted that it
was most expedient, both for him and his people, to make his
influence immediately felt. But that, in allying himself with
England on the Eastern question, he was seizing on an
opportunity for war is only a surmise for which it would be
difficult to adduce proof.
It was inevitable that he should throw his weight into
the question, and he could hardly hesitate in his choice of a
side. It was scarcely possible for the champion of the Latin
Church in the East, who had just stood forth in defence of its
claim, to abet the Czar in his demand for the protectorate of the
Christian subjects of the Porte. Moreover, Nicholas, in his
arrogant way, had given just offence both to Louis Napoleon
and the French people by refusing to address him, as all other
reigning potentates did, as "Mon Fre're;" as if he, the choice of
the French people, were not entitled to be admitted to the
brotherhood of sovereigns; which was one of those gratuitous
and unprofitable affronts which wise men are careful not to
offer.
On the other hand, the advantage was obvious of
arraying himself by the side of, instead of against, the great Sea-
Power his neighbour; while as for individual predilections he
had acquired, in his long residence in England, a hearty esteem
for our institutions and our people, and the
kindnesses which he had received as an exile were always
cordially acknowledged by him as a sovereign. But the
evidence points altogether to the view that at first his design in
associating himself with England was, while gaining the benefit
of the alliance, to make use of it for peace, and not for war.
Martin, in his Life of the Prince Consort, says,
"Amity with England, and a close political alliance, had been
uniformly declared to be the Emperor's dearest wish." On
ascending the throne he had said, "Certain persons say the
Empire is only war. But I say the Empire is peace, for France
desires it."
At the time of the Vienna Note, the Prince Consort,
discussing the parties to it, said, "Louis Napoleon wishes for
peace, enjoyment, and cheap corn."
On the 8th August 1853 the Queen's speech said, "The
Emperor of the French has united with Her Majesty in earnest
endeavours to reconcile differences the continuation of which
would involve Europe in war."
And after the fleets were in the Bosphorus, the Prince
Consort wrote: "Louis Napoleon shows by far the greatest
statesmanship, which is easier for the individual than the
many; he is moderate, but firm; gives way to us even when his
plan is better than ours, and revels in the advantages he
derives from the alliance with us."
No conjectures can hold their ground against this
testimony, and it may be taken for certain that the Emperor
faithfully co-operated with our Government throughout in its
endeavours to settle the quarrel by diplomatic pressure, backed
by the display of force.
When, however, they took the last step of sending their
fleets to the Bosphorus, the control of events passed out of
their hands. If Russia should choose to disregard the moral
pressure of their presence, and, resenting their entry into the
Bosphorus, to avenge it on the Turks, the Allies could no
longer preserve a mediatory attitude. They must become
principals.
This was foreseen by the Queen when she wrote thus to
Lord Clarendon: "It appears to the Queen that we have taken
on ourselves, in conjunction with France, all the risks of a
European war, without having bound Turkey to any conditions
with respect to provoking it."
Russian Provocation
The justice of this view of the matter was presently made
evident. The Turks, while keeping most of their fleet in the
Bosphorus, had left a squadron of light war-vessels in the
Black Sea. On the 30th November it was at anchor in the port of
Sinope, when Admiral Nakimoff attacked it with six ships of the
line, and absolutely destroyed it, with its crews to the number
of 4000 men.
It is not necessary to argue that the Russians were
exceeding their rights as belligerents in order to show the
impolicy of this stroke. While the disparity of force deprived it
of all glory, it roused public feeling, hitherto not too favourable
to the Czar, to a pitch which, certainly in England, could only
be appeased by arms. For long the English people had been
chafing at the wrongs inflicted on the Turks, aggravated by the
patience with which they were endured. Each successive step
of the Czar had aroused deeper indignation.
In the original difficulty, the position of the Sultan,
pressed by such powerful rivals for an award which
could bring him only unmitigated trouble, seemed to entitle him
to special indulgence. But Menschikoff's bearing throughout
his mission was arrogant and provocative. The setting up of
the second pretext, on the failure of the first, revealed the real
intention of grinding Turkey to dust.
The seizure of the Principalities showed a contempt for
public law and common justice so gross that the popular mind
could easily appreciate it. His manifestoes, outrageous in tone
and matter, had been fuel to the flame; and now the crash at
Sinope, under the very shadow of our ships, was of a character
thoroughly to exasperate a people whose element was the sea.
The French could probably in no case have endured to see
their fleet return without some substantial triumph, but a
reckless utterance of the Czar effectually roused them from
what had hitherto been a somewhat supine view of the
situation.
The French Emperor had addressed to him, as a final
attempt, a letter suggesting a scheme of pacification, and
assuring him that if it were rejected the Western Powers must
declare war. In his reply, among other taunts, Nicholas said,
"Russia will prove herself in 1854 what she was in 1812." This
allusion to the disasters in Russia, so ruinous to the first
Napoleon's power, and so humiliating to France, effectually
dispelled the apathy of the French people.
When Louis Napoleon proposed to our Government
that the fleets should enter the Black Sea, and if necessary
compel all Russian ships met with there to return to
Sebastopol, the measure hardly kept pace
with the feelings aroused in both countries.
On the 27th February 1854 France and England demanded
the evacuation of the Principalities by the 30th April as their
ultimatum. No answer was vouchsafed, and in March they
declared war. If any further stimulus had been needed for the
British people, it was now supplied in the publication of the
Czar's conversations with Sir Hamilton Seymour, hitherto held
in official secrecy. His parable of the sick man then proved
much more striking and suggestive than he could have desired.
It caught the popular fancy-it was seen to have indicated a
foregone conclusion-and he who could foretell the sick man's
dissolution, and arrange for the distribution of his possessions,
was judged to have been intent ever since on fulfilling his own
prophecy.
At this time everything pointed to a campaign on the
Danube. When the Turks declared war, the Russians in the
Principalities, not yet ready to advance, remained on the
defensive along the river. Omar Pasha, facing them, crossed
and seized Kalafat, and desultory combats, much more
calculated to exalt the military repute of the Turks than of the
Russians, had gone on there during the autumn and winter. But
it was obvious that it could serve no purpose to the Czar, that it
must rather destroy his military along with his diplomatic
repute, to let the war drag on in this way.
Accordingly, by May 1854 Russian troops had been
concentrated in the Principalities in sufficient force to begin an
offensive movement. The preliminaries to the passage of the
Balkans, in the march on Constantinople,
were to be the sieges of the Turkish fortresses of Silistria and
Shumla; and the invasion of Turkey began with the passage of
the Danube by the Russians, who opened their first parallel
before Silistria on the 19th May.
Thus it happened that the troops of England and France,
as they arrived in Turkish waters, were at first conveyed to
Varna, and were now encamped between that place and
Shumla, in the expectation of defending the fortresses by
fighting the army in the field. But now another influence
intervened, which entirely changed the aspect of the war.
On the 13th January 1854 the Four Powers, none of
them at that time at war with Russia, had obtained the
agreement of Turkey to fresh terms to be submitted to the Czar,
and were sending back his envoys with an avowal of their
intention to oppose his acts of aggression. Kinglake says that
Nicholas had been so slow to believe that the young Kaiser
could harbour the thought of opposing him in arms, that on
receiving the assurance of their alienation he was wrung with
grief.
This is a fresh proof that his autocratic temper had
been so fostered by long exercise of irresponsible power that
he could no longer read facts truly where his wishes were
strongly concerned; that he believed only what he desired to
believe ; and that his faith in the friendship of the Kaiser, and
the pacific temper of England, had been of paramount effect in
blinding him to the difficulties in his path. Well might the Prince
Consort write, just after Sinope, "the Emperor of Russia is
manifestly mad."
On the 3rd of June, Austria, with the support now finally
secured of Prussia, summoned the Czar to evacuate the
Principalities. In February she had moved 50,000 men up to the
frontier of the territory seized by the Czar. Her territorial position
on the north bank of the Danube is such as to enable her
effectually to check a Russian invasion of Turkey in that
direction. The operation can only be persisted in by first
repelling the Austrian advance.
For this the Czar was not prepared. He continued his
operations on the river just long enough to give a victorious
aspect to the valiant defence of Silistria, and to a subsequent
passage of the Danube at Giurgevo by the Turks, led by English
officers. Austria was on the point of war, and had sent an
officer to the English headquarters to form a joint plan of
operations, when the Czar at last perceived that the pressure on
him could not be resisted.
The siege of Silistria was raised ; the Russians
immediately began to withdraw from the Principalities, and on
the 2nd August they recrossed the frontier. The Austrian
troops thereupon occupied, in the interests of Turkey, the
territories thus abandoned.
Now Austria did not then, or afterwards, declare war
against Russia. But, as has been related, France and England
had done so in March. It may be, and has been, said that had
the Western Powers gone step by step with Austria, leaving it
to her, who had most concern in a war on the Danube, to give
the word for the commencement of hostilities, the Czar would,
as the event proved, have been forced to abandon his prey,
and the final settlement of the quarrel between him and Turkey
might still have been effected by negotiation.
It is impossible to deny this, but at the same time it is
impossible absolutely to affirm it, For no negotiations could
have been satisfactory which did not provide some
compensation for Turkey; and it is very unlikely that the Czar
would have conceded this without the compulsion of arms.
But the determining cause may well have been the savage
blow delivered at Sinope, which roused the impatience of the
Western peoples to a pitch beyond control.
But now, with the abandonment of the Principalities,
that which had hitherto been the ground of contention had
suddenly vanished, and with it had vanished also the
immediate concern in the quarrel of Austria and Prussia, whose
alliance for the coercion of the Czar had been formed expressly
"in defence of the interests of Germany."
But English views had for long gone against the
acceptance of a drawn game. To withdraw the Allied fleets
from the Euxine without having fired a shot, while its waters
were still strewed with the wrecks of the Turkish ships; to
leave the shores of Turkey unprotected, while opposite to
them stood the embodied menace of Sebastopol, with its forts
and arsenal, from whence had just issued the destroying
squadron; and to abandon the Ottoman Empire to the impulses
of so grasping, so unscrupulous, and so vindictive a
personality as that of Nicholas, had not in this latter period
been included within the range of possibilities.
On the first declaration of war the
French Emperor had sketched, and our Ministry bad approved,
a plan for the attack of Sebastopol. "In no event," said Lord
Lyndhurst in June, "except that of extreme necessity, ought we
to make peace without previously destroying the Russian fleet
in the Black Sea, and laying prostrate the fortifications by
which it is defended."
On the 24th July the Times wrote, "the broad policy of the
war consists in striking at the very heart of the Russian power
in the East, and that heart is at Sebastopol." And its editor, Mr
John Delane, who had gone to Constantinople to observe
events, told Lord Stratford that if our army were to perish
before Sebastopol, the first thought of the nation at home
would be to raise another, and go on. And this state of feeling
had been aroused by the sense entertained in this country of
the dangerous nature of the Czar's designs, and of the
dishonesty which had marked his pursuit of them.
"It is," wrote the Queen, in discussing the causes of the
war, "the selfishness, and ambition, and want of honesty of
one man and his servants which has done it." Such were the
circumstances in which France and England prepared to
transfer their armaments from Turkey to the Crimea.
Chapter II: Landing in the Crimea
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