Beacon Lights of History, Volume 10: European Leaders

It is thus probable that the Emperor Nicholas, after the failure of his armies to reach Constantinople through the Danubian provinces and across the Balkans, meditated, after twenty years of rest and recuperation, the invasion of Constantinople by his fleet, which then controlled the Black Sea.

But he reckoned without his host. He was deceived by the pacific attitude of England, then ruled by the cabinet of Lord Aberdeen, who absolutely detested war. The premier was almost a fanatic in his peace principles, and was on the most friendly terms with Nicholas and his ministers. The Czar could not be made to believe that England, under the administration of Lord Aberdeen, would interfere with his favorite and deeply meditated schemes of conquest. He saw no obstacles except from the Turks themselves, timid and stricken with fears; so he strongly fortified Sebastopol and made it impregnable by the sea, and quietly gathered in its harbor an immense fleet, with which the Turkish armaments could not compare. The Turkish naval power had never recovered from the disaster which followed the battle of Navarino, when their fleet was annihilated. With a crippled naval power and decline in military strength, with defeated armies and an empty purse, it seemed to the Czar that Turkey was crushed in spirit and Constantinople defenceless; and that impression was strengthened by the representation of his ambassador at the Porte,–Prince Mentchikof, who almost openly insulted the Sultan by his arrogance, assumptions, and threats.

But a very remarkable man happened at that time to reside at Constantinople as the ambassador of England, one in whom the Turkish government had great confidence, and who exercised great influence over it. This man was Sir Stratford Canning (a cousin of the great Canning), who in 1852 was made viscount, with the title Lord Stratford de Redcliffe. He was one of the ablest diplomatists then living, or that England had ever produced, and all his sympathies were on the side of Turkey. Mentchikof was no match for the astute Englishman, who for some time controlled the Turkish government, and who baffled all the schemes of Nicholas.

England–much as she desired the peace of Europe, and much as Lord Aberdeen detested war–had no intention of allowing the "sick man" to fall into the hands of Russia, and through her ambassador at Constantinople gave encouragement to Turkey to resist the all-powerful Russia with the secret promise of English protection; and as Lord Stratford distrusted and disliked Russia, having since 1824 been personally engaged in Eastern diplomacy and familiar with Russian designs, he very zealously and with great ability fought the diplomatic battles of Turkey, and inspired the Porte with confidence in the event of war. It was by his dexterous negotiations that England was gradually drawn into a warlike attitude against Russia, in spite of the resolutions of the English premier to maintain peace at any cost.

In the meantime the English people, after their long peace of nearly forty years, were becoming restless in view of the encroachments of Russia, and were in favor of vigorous measures, even if they should lead to war. The generation had passed away that remembered Waterloo, so that public opinion was decidedly warlike, and goaded on the ministry to measures which materially conflicted with Lord Aberdeen's peace principles. The idea of war with Russia became popular,–partly from jealousy of a warlike empire that aspired to the possession of Constantinople, and partly from the English love of war itself, with its excitements, after the dulness and inaction of a long period of peace and prosperity. In 1853 England found herself drifting into war, to the alarm and disgust of Aberdeen and Gladstone, to the joy of the people and the satisfaction of Palmerston and a majority of the cabinet.

The third party to this Crimean contest was France, then ruled by Louis Napoleon, who had lately become head of the State by a series of political usurpations and crimes that must ever be a stain on his fame. Yet he did not feel secure on his throne; the ancient nobles, the intellect of the country, and the parliamentary leaders were against him. They stood aloof from his government, regarding him as a traitor and a robber, who by cunning and slaughter had stolen the crown. He was supposed to be a man of inferior intellect, whose chief merit was the ability to conceal his thoughts and hold his tongue, and whose power rested on the army, the allegiance of which he had seduced by bribes and promises. Feeling the precariousness of his situation, and the instability of the people he had deceived with the usual Napoleonic lies, which he called "ideas," he looked about for something to divert their minds,–some scheme by which he could gain éclat; and the difficulties between Russia and Turkey furnished him the occasion he desired. He determined to employ his army in aid of Turkey. It would be difficult to show what gain would result to France, for France did not want additional territory in the East. But a war would be popular, and Napoleon wanted popularity. Moreover, an alliance with England, offensive and defensive, to check Russian encroachments, would strengthen his own position, social as well as political. He needed friends. It was his aim to enter the family of European monarchs, to be on a good footing with them, to be one of them, as a legitimate sovereign. The English alliance might bring Victoria herself to Paris as his guest. The former prisoner of Ham, whom everybody laughed at as a visionary or despised as an adventurer, would, by an alliance with England, become the equal of Queen Victoria, and with infinitely greater power. She was a mere figure-head in her government, to act as her ministers directed; he, on the other hand, had France at his feet, and dictated to his ministers what they should do.

The parties, then, in the Crimean war were Russia, seeking to crush Turkey, with France and England coming to the rescue,–ostensibly to preserve the "balance of power" in Europe.

But before considering the war itself, we must glance at the preliminaries,–the movements which took place making war inevitable, and which furnished the pretext for disturbing the peace of Europe.

First must be mentioned the contest for the possession of the sacred shrines in the Holy Land. Pilgrimages to these shrines took place long before Palestine fell into the hands of the Mohammedans. It was one of the passions of the Middle Ages, and it was respected even by the Turks, who willingly entered into the feelings of the Christians coming to kneel at Jerusalem. Many sacred objects of reverence, if not idolatry, were guarded by Christian monks, who were permitted by the government to cherish them in their convents. But the Greek and the Latin convents, allowed at Jerusalem by the Turkish government, equally aspired to the guardianship of the Holy Sepulchre and other sacred shrines in Jerusalem. It rested with the Turkish government to determine which of the rival churches, Greek or Latin, should have the control of the shrines, and it was a subject of perpetual controversy,–Russia, of course, defending the claims of the Greek convents, who at this time had long been the appointed guardians, and France now taking up those of the Latin; although Russia was the more earnest in the matter, as holding a right already allowed.

The new President of the French republic, in 1851, on the lookout for subjects of controversy with Russia, had directed his ambassador at Constantinople to demand from the Porte some almost forgotten grants made to the Latin Church two or three hundred years before. This demand, which the Sultan dared not refuse, was followed by the Turks' annulling certain privileges which had long been enjoyed by the Greek convents; and thus the ancient dispute was reopened. The Greek Church throughout Russia was driven almost to frenzy by this act of the Turkish government. The Czar Nicholas, himself a zealot in religion, was indignant and furious; but the situation gave him a pretext for insults and threats that would necessarily lead to war, which he desired as eagerly as Louis Napoleon. The Porte, embarrassed and wishing for peace, leaned for advice on the English ambassador, who, as has been said, promised the mediation of England.

Then followed a series of angry negotiations and pressure made by Russia and France alternately on the Sultan in reference to the guardianship of the shrines,–as to who should possess the key of the chief door of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem and of the church at Bethlehem, Greek or Latin monks.

As the pressure made by France was the most potent, the Czar in his rage ordered one of his corps d'armée to advance to the frontiers of the Danubian provinces, and another corps to hold itself in readiness,–altogether a force of one hundred and forty-four thousand men. The world saw two great nations quarrelling about a key to the door of a church in Palestine; statesmen saw, on the one hand, the haughty ambition of Nicholas seeking pretence for a war which might open to him the gates of Constantinople, and, on the other hand, the schemes of the French emperor–for the ten-year president elected in 1851 had in just one year got himself "elected" emperor–to disturb the peace of Europe, which might end in establishing more securely his own usurpation.

The warlike attitude of Russia in 1853 alarmed England, who was not prepared to go to war. As has been said, Mentchikof was no match in the arts of diplomacy for Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, and an angry and lively war of diplomatic notes passed between them. The Czar discovered that the English ambassador had more influence with the Porte than Mentchikof, and became intensely angry. Lord Stratford ferreted out the schemes of the Czar in regard to the Russian protectorate of the Greek Church, which was one of his most cherished plans, and bent every energy to defeat it. He did not care about the quarrels of the Greek and Latin monks for the guardianship of the sacred shrines; but he did object to the meditated protectorate of the Czar over the Greek subjects of Turkey, which, if successful, would endanger the independence of the Sultan, so necessary for the peace of Europe. All the despatches from. St. Petersburg breathed impatience and wrath, and Mentchikof found himself in great difficulties. The Russian ambassador even found means to have the advantage of a private audience with the Sultan, without the knowledge of the grand vizier; but the Sultan, though courteous, remained firm. This ended the mission of the Russian ambassador, foiled and baffled at every turn; while his imperial master, towering into passion, lost all the reputation he had gained during his reign for justice and moderation.

Within three days of the departure of Prince Mentchikof from Constantinople, England and France began to concert measures together for armed resistance to Russia, should war actually break out, which seemed inevitable, for the Czar was filled with rage; and this in spite of the fact that within two weeks the Sultan yielded the point as to the privileges of Greek subjects in his empire,–but beyond that he stood firm, and appealed to England and France.

The Czar now meditated the occupation of the Danubian principalities, in order to enable his armies to march to Constantinople. But Austria and Prussia would not consent to this, and the Czar found himself opposed virtually by all Europe. He still labored under the delusion that England would hold aloof, knowing the peace policy of the English government under the leadership of Lord Aberdeen. Under this delusion, and boiling over with anger, he suddenly, without taking counsel of his ministers or of any living soul, touched a bell in his palace. The officer in attendance received an order for the army to cross the Pruth. On the 2d of July, 1853, Russia invaded the principalities. On the following day a manifesto was read in her churches that the Czar made war on Turkey in defence of the Greek religion; and all the fanatical zeal of the Russians was at once excited to go where the Czar might send them in behalf of their faith. Nothing could be more popular than such a war.

But the hostile attitude taken by all Europe on the invasion of the principalities, and by Austria in particular, was too great an obstacle for even the Czar of all the Russias to disregard, especially when he learned that the fleets of France and England were ordered to the Dardanelles, and that his fleet would be pent up in an inland basin of the Black Sea. It became necessary for Russia to renew negotiations. At Vienna a note had been framed between four of the great Powers, by which it was clear that they would all unite in resisting the Czar, if he did not withdraw his armies from the principalities. The Porte promptly determined on war, supported by the advice of a great Council, attended by one hundred and seventy-two of the foremost men of the empire, and fifteen days were given to Russia to withdraw her troops from the principalities. At the expiration of that term, the troops not being withdrawn, on October 5 war was declared by Turkey.

The war on the part of Turkey was defensive, necessary, and popular. The religious sentiment of the whole nation was appealed to, and not in vain. It is difficult for any nation to carry on a great war unless it is supported by the people. In Turkey and throughout the scattered dominions of the Sultan, religion and patriotism and warlike ardor combined to make men arise by their own free-will, and endure fatigue, danger, hunger, and privation for their country and their faith. The public dangers were great; for Russia was at the height of her power and prestige, and the Czar was known to have a determined will, not to be bent by difficulties which were not insurmountable.

Meanwhile the preachers of the Orthodox Greek faith were not behind the Mohammedans in rousing the martial and religious spirit of nearly one hundred millions of the subjects of the Russian autocrat. In his proclamation the Czar urged inviolable guaranties in favor of the sacred rights of the Orthodox Church, and pretended (as is usual with all parties in going to war) that he was challenged to the fight, and that his cause was just. He then invoked the aid of Almighty Power. It was rather a queer thing for a warlike sovereign, entering upon an aggressive war to gratify ambition, to quote the words of David: "In thee, O Lord, have I trusted: let me not be confounded forever."

Urged on and goaded by the French emperor, impatient of delay, and obtuse to all further negotiations for peace, which Lord Aberdeen still hoped to secure, the British government at last gave orders for its fleet to proceed to Constantinople. The Czar, so long the ally of England, was grieved and indignant at what appeared to him to be a breach of treaties and an affront to him personally, and determined on vengeance. He ordered his fleet at Sebastopol to attack a Turkish fleet anchored near Sinope, which was done Nov. 30, 1853. Except a single steamer, every one of the Turkish vessels was destroyed, and four thousand Turks were killed.

The anger of both the French and English people was now fairly roused by this disaster, and Lord Aberdeen found himself powerless to resist the public clamor for war. Lord Palmerston, the most popular and powerful minister that England had, resigned his seat in the cabinet, and openly sided with the favorite cause. Lord Aberdeen was compelled now to let matters take their course, and the English fleet was ordered to the Black Sea; but war was not yet declared by the Western Powers, since there still remained some hopes of a peaceful settlement.

Meanwhile Prussia and Austria united in a league, offensive and defensive, to expel the Russians from the Danubian provinces, which filled the mind of Nicholas with more grief than anger; for he had counted on the neutrality of Austria and Prussia, as he had on the neutrality of England. It was his misfortune to believe what he wished, rather than face facts.

On the 27th of March, 1854, however, after a winter of diplomacy and military threatenings and movements, which effected nothing like a settlement, France and England declared war against Russia; on the 11th of April the Czar issued his warlike manifesto, and Europe blazed with preparations for one of the most needless and wicked contests in modern times. All parties were to blame; but on Russia the greatest odium rests for disturbing the peace of Europe, although the Czar at the outset had no idea of fighting the Western Powers. In a technical point of view the blame of beginning the dispute which led to the Crimean war rests with France, for she opened and renewed the question of the guardianship of the sacred shrines, which had long been under the protection of the Greek Church; and it was the intrigues of Louis Napoleon which entangled England. The latter country was also to blame for her jealousy of Russian encroachments, fearing that they would gradually extend to English possessions in the East. Had Nicholas known the true state of English public opinion he might have refrained from actual hostilities; but he was misled by the fact that Lord Aberdeen had given assurances of a peace policy.

Although France and England entered upon the war only with the intention at first of protecting Turkey, and were mere allies for that purpose, yet these two Powers soon bore the brunt of the contest, which really became a strife between Russia on the one side and England and France on the other. Moreover, instead of merely defending Turkey against Russia, the allied Powers assumed the offensive, and thus took the responsibility for all the disastrous consequences of the war.

The command of the English army had been intrusted to Lord Raglan, once known as Lord Fitzroy Somerset, who lost an arm at the battle of Waterloo while on the staff of Wellington; a wise and experienced commander, but too old for such service as was now expected of him in an untried field of warfare. Besides, it was a long time since he had seen active service. When appointed to the command he was sixty-six years old. From 1827 to 1852 he was military secretary at the Horse Guards,–the English War Office,–where he was made master-general of the Ordnance, and soon after became a full general. He was taciturn but accessible, and had the power of attracting everybody to him; averse to all show and parade; with an uncommon power for writing both good English and French,–an accomplished man, from whom much was expected.

The command of the French forces was given to Marshal Saint-Arnaud, a bold, gay, reckless, enterprising man, who had distinguished himself in Algeria as much for his indifference to human life as for his administrative talents,–ruthless, but not bloodthirsty. He was only colonel when Fleury, the arch-conspirator and friend of Louis Napoleon, was sent to Algeria to find some officer of ability who could be bribed to join in the meditated coup d'état. Saint-Arnaud listened to his proposals, and was promised the post of minister of war, which would place the army under his control, for all commanders would receive orders from him. He was brought to Paris and made minister of war, with a view to the great plot of the 2d of December, and later was created a Marshal of France. His poor health (the result of his excesses) made him unfit to be intrusted with the forces for the invasion of the Crimea; but his military reputation was better than his moral, and in spite of his unfitness the emperor–desirous still further to reward his partisan services–put him in command of the French Crimean forces.

The first military operations took place on the Danube. The Russians then occupied the Danubian principalities, and had undertaken the siege of Silistria, which was gallantly defended by the Turks, before the allied French and English armies could advance to its relief; but it was not till the middle of May that the allied armies were in full force, and took up their position at Varna.

Nicholas was now obliged to yield. He could not afford to go to war with Prussia, Austria, France, England, and Turkey together. It had become impossible for him to invade European Turkey by the accustomed route. So, under pressure of their assembling forces, he withdrew his troops from the Danubian provinces, which removed all cause of hostilities from Prussia and Austria. These two great Powers now left France and England to support all the burdens of the war. If Prussia and Austria had not withdrawn from the alliance, the Crimean war would not have taken place, for Russia would have made peace with Turkey. It was on the 2d of August, 1854, that the Russians recrossed the Pruth, and the Austrians took possession of the principalities.

England might now have withdrawn from the contest but for her alliance with France,–an entangling alliance, indeed; but Lord Palmerston, seeing that war was inevitable, withdrew his resignation, and the British cabinet became a unit, supported by the nation. Lord Aberdeen still continued to be premier; but Palmerston was now the leading spirit, and all eyes turned to him. The English people, who had forgotten what war was, upheld the government, and indeed goaded it on to war. The one man who did not drift was the secretary for foreign affairs, Lord Palmerston, who went steadily ahead, and gained his object,–a check upon Russia's power in the East.

This statesman was a man of great abilities, with a strong desire for power under the guise of levity and good-nature. He was far-reaching, bold, and of concentrated energy; but his real character was not fully comprehended until the Crimean war, although he was conspicuous in politics for forty years. His frank utterances, his off-hand manner, his ready banter, and his joyous eyes captivated everybody, and veiled his stern purposes. He was distrusted at St. Petersburg because of his alliance with Louis Napoleon, his hatred of the Bourbons, and his masking the warlike tendency of the government which he was soon to lead, for Lord Aberdeen was not the man to conduct a war with Russia.

At this point, as stated above, the war might have terminated, for the Russians had abandoned the principalities; but at home the English had been roused by Louis Napoleon's friends and by the course of events to a fighting temper, and the French emperor's interests would not let him withdraw; while in the field neither the Turkish nor French nor English troops were to be contented with less than the invasion of the Russian territories. Turkey was now in no danger of invasion by the Russians, for they had been recalled from the principalities, and the fleets of England and France controlled the Black Sea. From defensive measures they turned to offensive.

The months of July and August were calamitous to the allied armies at Varna; not from battles, but from pestilence, which was fearful. On the 26th of August it was determined to re-embark the decimated troops, sail for the Crimea, and land at some place near Sebastopol. The capture of this fortress was now the objective point of the war. On the 13th of September the fleets anchored in Eupatoria Bay, on the west coast of the Crimean peninsula, and the disembarkation of the troops took place without hindrance from the Russians, who had taken up a strong position on the banks of the Alma, which was apparently impregnable. There the Russians, on their own soil and in their intrenched camp, wisely awaited the advance of their foes on the way to Sebastopol, the splendid seaport, fortress, and arsenal at the extreme southwestern point of the Crimea.

There were now upon the coasts of the Crimea some thirty-seven thousand French and Turks with sixty-eight pieces of artillery (all under the orders of Marshal Saint-Arnaud), and some twenty-seven thousand English with sixty guns,–altogether about sixty-four thousand men and one hundred and twenty-eight guns. It was intended that the fleets should follow the march of the armies, in order to furnish the necessary supplies. The march was perilous, without a base of supplies on the coast itself, and without a definite knowledge of the number or resources of the enemy. It required a high order of military genius to surmount the difficulties and keep up the spirits of the troops. The French advanced in a line on the coast nearest the sea; the English took up their line of march towards the south, on the left, farther in the interior. The French were protected by the fleets on the one hand and by the English on the other. The English therefore were exposed to the greater danger, having their entire left flank open to the enemy's fire. The ground over which the Western armies marched was an undulating steppe. They marched in closely massed columns, and they marched in weariness and silence, for they had not recovered from the fatal pestilence at Varna. The men were weak, and suffered greatly from thirst. At length they came to the Alma River, where the Russians were intrenched on the left bank. The allies were of course compelled to cross the river under the fire of the enemies' batteries, and then attack their fortified positions, and drive the Russians from their post.