THE EMPEROR NICHOLAS I
A Pacific Emperor--An Imperial Fault--The Pauper's Funeral--The
Emperor's Visit to my Mother--My Dilemma--The Emperor's Kindness--He is
Snubbed by an Ingenue--The Emperor's Desire for an Alliance with
England--Prince Gortschakoff's Rejoinder--The Slav Ideal--Russia and
Constantinople--Bismarck's Admiration--He Discomfits a Member of the
Reichstag
A noteworthy example of a _rapprochement_ between England, France, and
Russia, long before the Triple Entente in politics became an
established fact, was the researches undertaken three-quarters of a
century ago, by three leading scientific authorities, into the
geological features of the Russian Empire. Sir Roderick Murchison, M.
de Verneuil and Count Alexander Keyserling were appointed by their
respective Governments to make a joint expedition and, as a result of
their labours, wrote a book entitled _The Geology of Russia in Europe
and the Urals_, which was published by the British Museum in 1845, in
two volumes. This was indeed a promising beginning, and may be said to
have been the precursor for much co-operation between these nations
long before an Entente was within the sphere of practical politics. At
any rate, it serves to prove that there is a natural bond of sympathy
between the great Allies, and that it is in no sense a question of
political expediency.
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This took place under the Emperor Nicholas I, who was always for peace,
and in particular for an understanding with England. The whole
situation in Europe has changed since those days, or rather seems to
have changed. In reality it is not so. A few persons have made an
effort to open their eyes, and have discovered a well-established fact.
That is all. It is an important discovery, no doubt, so important that
nervous politicians conjure up imaginary difficulties, and appeal to
all sorts of magic utterances: "Balance of power," cries one;
"Immediate danger," shouts the other; "Traditional policy," exclaims
the third. But all these appeals might as well not have been made.
The "newly-discovered fact" has been known to Russians for years,
although clever Westerns have only just found it out. It is indeed
only natural that we should know it first, for it relates to our
Emperor. Europe has learned to feel that there is once more an Emperor
Nicholas on the Russian throne, and that in Alexander III even the most
imperious of Chancellors found a Sovereign whom no intimidation could
dismay, and no menace could deter from the path of duty. Some
Englishmen, I regret to say, did not like the memory of the Emperor,
whose noble and generous qualities are more and more appreciated in
History. The Emperor Nicholas I was undoubtedly a superior man in many
respects. Imperious he was, no doubt--it is an Imperial fault!--but he
was not only disinterested, he was generous and noble in the highest
degree. Books could be written about his kind actions.
He was once driving on a cold winter's day, when {91} he perceived a
poor hearse, and a still poorer coffin. There were no followers, but
the young driver, almost a child, was sobbing bitterly, and evidently
overwhelmed with his grief. The Emperor stopped his horse and asked
who the departed was.
"It was my father," answered the boy, through a new torrent of tears.
"He was a blind beggar, and I had him under my care."
The Emperor left his sledge and followed the humble coffin to the
burial ground. Naturally, many people followed His Majesty's example,
and the procession became a strange sight. Strange, but
fine--paternal, showing once more the link between the great autocrat
and his people--a link based on devotion and trust. As a very young
child I have myself experienced the kindness of his smile, and felt the
protection of his powerful hand.
If I may tell the story again, I remember, when my father died, the
Emperor Nicholas I paid a visit of condolence to my mother, and desired
to see his god-children. My two brothers and I appeared. I, as the
only girl, received from my governess stringent orders before entering
the drawing-room to "look well and to make a deep Court _reverence_."
Penetrated with my new role, and full of zeal, I did my best--which,
alas! turned out to be my very worst--I bowed so deeply that suddenly
all became confused and I fell over backwards against a pillar. A
horrified glance from mother--the roof with its painted flowers and
Cupids--misery and bewilderment! But all this lasted only a second.
The dear Emperor rushed to me, seized my trembling hands, and began
praising me as if I had really covered {92} myself, not with ridicule,
but with glory. Thus he cheered me and made me happy. People who knew
him intimately speak of him with unqualified devotion. But the
fascination he exercised did not render less commanding the conscious
power which dwelt within him. For he was a power--perhaps the greatest
power of his day.
The great and unexpected steps taken by his grandson allowed us to hope
to find the same resolute devotion to his country in our present ruler,
Nicholas II, and we did not hope in vain.
The Emperor Nicholas I was charmingly courteous and kind to young
people. Thus, one day, the Court arrived in Moscow, and the Moscow
nobility arranged a brilliant ball to greet Their Majesties. Naturally
the young girls all longed to be presented on this occasion. One
amongst them was exceedingly beautiful and attractive. The Emperor
addressed a few words to her, expressing his pleasure at making her
acquaintance. She looked at him somewhat severely, without answering a
word.
"Do you not hear what I say?" enquired the Emperor in some surprise.
"Yes," replied the young lady curtly, "I hear, but I do not listen!"
(J'enténds mais je n'écoute pas!)
The Emperor, extremely amused by this tone of self-defence, when he
never dreamt of attacking or offending, went to the Empress. "There is
a charming child here," he said, "most amusing and innocent. Make her
your Maid of Honour." This was done. By her position she was quite
entitled to this distinction, but still, people were very much amused.
Later on she received other honours, {93} occupied a high position at
our Court, and died only a short time ago.
One of the great desires of the Emperor Nicholas I was to establish
such a close and cordial alliance between Russia and England as even
then would form a solid guarantee of peace to the world. It was his
desire to cement the alliance that led him to make those overtures to
Sir Henry Seymour, which were so basely misrepresented and so
perfidiously utilised to destroy the good understanding they were
intended to promote.
"'You know my feelings?' so Mr. Kinglake begins the story, in his
vivacious and charming but slightly unjust _The Invasion of the
Crimea_, 'you know my feelings,' said the Emperor to Sir Henry Seymour,
'with regard to England. What I have told you before, I say again; it
was intended that the two countries should be upon terms of close
amity; and I feel sure that this will continue to be the case; and I
repeat that it is very essential that the two Governments should be on
the best of terms, and the necessity was never greater than at present.
When we are agreed, I am quite without anxiety as to the rest of
Europe. It is immaterial what the others may think or do.'"
This is what the Emperor Nicholas always said, and it was with him a
fixed idea. "I desire to speak to you," he said on another occasion,
"as a friend and as a gentleman. [The Emperor little knew how the
confidence he placed in the "gentleman" would be requited.] If England
and I arrive at an understanding in this matter it is indifferent what
others do or think."
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In 1846, during his visit to London, the Emperor expressed a wish that,
while he would do all in his power to keep the "Sick Man" (Turkey)
alive, we should keep the possible and eventual case of a collapse
honestly and reasonably before our eyes. This is not the only reason
why the memory of the Emperor Nicholas I is ever grateful to those who
labour for the Anglo-Russian Alliance. Nor is it the only one why I
recall these suggestive passages just now. Some people invoke the
prejudice of the past to poison the friendship of the future. Let me
take a more grateful course of recalling the repeated attempts of
Russia to arrive at a good understanding with England. There is a
continuity about Russian policy, and the principles laid down by the
grandfather are followed by the grandson.
It is important to remember that in the last century, Austria and
England, the friends of the Porte, have taken more Turkish territory
for themselves than we, her hereditary foes.
Let us remember the following facts: The Emperor Nicholas I decided to
concede to England all she wanted concerning Egypt; and in return, so
far from stipulating for the possession, at that time, of
Constantinople, he offered to make an engagement not to establish
himself there as possessor, not even if circumstances compelled him to
undertake a temporary occupation of the city. What then was the
Emperor's proposal? It was that of a friendly understanding, "as
between gentlemen," that certain things should not be done in case of a
sudden collapse of the Ottoman Empire.
Such were the earnest wishes of Russia, but {95} England remained deaf
and prejudiced, suspicious and hostile. She preferred a bloody
struggle to a hearty alliance, and a tremendous war was
fought--thousands of innocent people killed, millions of money spent on
both sides--and with no actual result. Does anything remain of the
famous Treaty of Paris? I remember having once asked Prince
Gortschakoff whether it was he or Count Nesselrode who signed that
treaty. The Chancellor was ill, and thought he could not leave his
chair, but my question electrified him.
"No," he exclaimed, forgetting his illness and jumping to his feet, "I
did not put my name to that document, but I spent a good part of my
life in tearing it to pieces. And it is torn to pieces," he repeated,
with a vivid, delighted look.
In order to be on good terms with Russia, England has merely not to
interfere in Russia's dealings with the Slavs, her co-religionists; not
demoralise the latter, not to support elements opposed to our Church
and our nationality. In fact, it is an easy, negative part she has to
play. Instead of this, in Beaconsfield's days, she quarrelled like a
nervous woman, and we acted, perhaps, like another nervous woman. Now,
however, is the day of strong men, both English and Russian.
Nicholas I saw that it is of vital importance for the Slavs, who are no
traitors to their country, to cling to Russia, because she is the only
Power that cares for their Church and their nationality. The Slavs
incorporated with Germany have been thoroughly Germanised. Austria is
not so clever as her master, but she successfully introduces the {96}
Roman Catholic propaganda among the Slavs; imprisons men like Father
Naoumovitch for his devotion to the Eastern Church, and morally does
almost more harm to the poor young nationalities than does Turkey.
I remember when I was quite a child, a young Southern Slav came to my
mother and began complaining of their position. My mother interrupted
him by asking, "Would you prefer to belong to Austria?" Though a
child, I was horrified to see the despair of his face. "Oh," cried he,
"Austria is even worse than Turkey. Turkey kills the body--Austria
kills the soul." This is an opinion which, it may be said, is
generally held amongst the Southern Slavs--and terribly verified in
Bulgaria at the present moment (1916).
It is difficult for outsiders to judge Slavonic troubles and Slavonic
needs. It is a private family affair, which ought to be left to us to
settle. The Slavs awoke England's sympathies only when it was thought
they were the enemies of Russia. Alas! They had their pet name in
England, and it was not complimentary.
Is it rational, I ventured to ask in the year 1886, to awaken general
indignation in a country like Russia, which could be so useful as an
ally? We have common enemies in Asia. Fancy the power represented by
two great Christian countries like Russia and England, when they are
united and friendly! Is it really not worth having? Time has given me
my answer.
People have been so kind as to say that I have been mainly responsible
for the bringing together {97} of England and Russia, but whatever I
have done I have merely been carrying on the ideal of the Emperor
Nicholas I.
Kinglake wrote: "The Emperor Nicholas had laid down for himself a rule
which was always to guide his conduct upon the Eastern Question; and it
seems to be certain that at this time (the eve of the Turkish war of
1853), even in his most angry moments, he intended to cling to his
resolve. What he had determined was that no temptation should draw him
into hostile conflict with England."[1]
[1] _The Invasion of the Crimea_. Sixth edition.
It must be borne in mind that this is the testimony of an Englishman,
and one who cannot be accused of being pro-Russian.
It is interesting to recall the words addressed by the Emperor Nicholas
I to the English Ambassador at Petrograd in 1853. The Emperor then
said:
"The affairs of Turkey are in a very disorganised condition; the
country itself seems to be falling to pieces; the fall will be a great
misfortune, and it is very important that England and Russia should
come to a perfectly good understanding upon these affairs. We have on
our hands a Sick Man, a very Sick Man. It will be, I tell you frankly,
a great misfortune if one of these days he should slip away from us,
especially before all necessary arrangements are made. If the Turkish
Empire falls, it falls to rise no more; and I put it you, therefore,
whether it is not better to be provided beforehand for a contingency,
than to incur the chaos, confusion, and the certainty of an European
war, all of which must attend the {98} catastrophe if it should occur
unexpectedly and before some ulterior system has been sketched."
The Sick Man certainly has taken longer in dying than the Emperor
thought, but he certainly seems to be well on the way now.
Nicholas I was a statesman, one who has been described as bearing "the
stamp of a generous and chivalrous nature."
Bismarck himself, in 1849, expressed his admiration of the Emperor's
conduct in regard to Hungary. He was always essentially upright and
straightforward, and was in every sense of the term a strong man.
Writing of Bismarck reminds me of a story I have heard which I do not
remember to have seen in print.
One of Bismarck's most violent opponents thought to damage the
Chancellor's position by re-reading one of his own speeches made some
years previously. In a loud determined voice the deputy read
Bismarck's words before the Reichstag, no one listening to him with
more attention than Bismarck himself. When at last the deputy
concluded, confident of his own triumph, Bismarck exclaimed: "I should
hardly have expected to hear such a prudent, useful speech, and some
twenty years ago nothing could have been more appropriate. At this
moment, of course, it is quite out of date and could not be acted upon."
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