France—that Napoleon III., far from seeking occasions of strife or
invasion, busied himself in conciliating opponent parties, in improving
his capital, in devising employment for the necessitous classes of his
subjects, in endeavouring to gain the good opinion of powers but little
disposed to think well of him—he meditated upon the best means of urging
him to some rash step, which should bring about his downfall and a
Bourbon restoration. He reckoned on having all Europe with him against
the usurper; and, if he counted England in the new coalition, or at
least calculated on her standing aloof from France, how can we wonder at
it, when, day after day, he saw the English press heaping insult and
contumely upon the Emperor of the French—and, by inevitable implication,
upon the people he ruled—and when Whig statesmen so far forgot their
discretion as publicly to express their aversion to the government
France had accepted—their contempt for the French themselves?
In accordance with a skilfully combined plan, and taking as a double
pretext the war Turkey was waging against the Montenegrins and the
question of the Holy Shrines, the Czar sent Prince Menschikoff to
Constantinople, charged to insist, in no mild or measured terms, upon
the satisfactory settlement of both those affairs. It so happened,
however, that before the Prince’s arrival, Prince Leiningen, acting on
behalf of Austria—and, it must be admitted, in a more moderate and
conciliatory spirit than might have been expected in the envoy of a
power embittered, as Austria was, against Turkey, by the latter’s
protection of the Hungarian refugees—had brought the Montenegro question
to a satisfactory conclusion. Thus the most important of the two
ostensible motives for the Menschikoff mission had disappeared. That
which remained—the question of the Holy Places—had seemed, but a few
weeks previously, to be all but settled; and, at any rate, it was a very
insufficient cause for so pompous and extraordinary an embassy. Upon it,
however, Prince Menschikoff commenced negotiations—his peremptory tone,
and the arrogance of his style, being in an inverse ratio to the
importance of the matter to be discussed. Had the Muscovite Minister of
Marine been sent as his master’s delegate to some petty tributary, whose
power depended on his nod, he could hardly have assumed a more trenchant
tone, or have demeaned himself with greater insolence. The French
government, upon this occasion more vigilant than our own, appears at
once to have detected an ulterior object in this mission, and in the
concurrent naval and military display at Sebastopol. A French fleet
showed itself in the waters of Salamis. This step the Aberdeen cabinet,
or the greater portion of it—for it was reported that at least one of
its members was more clear-sighted than his colleagues—blamed as
precipitate and uncalled-for; and our ambassador at Paris was understood
to have intimated, in a non-official manner, to M. Drouyn de l’Huys, his
government’s regret at a proceeding that might rouse the susceptibility
of the Czar, and that was, to say the least, extremely premature.
An extraordinary blindness as to Russia’s real views, and to the
importance of the question at issue, afflicted, at that period of the
question, the Aberdeen cabinet and all connected with them. The Premier
could not credit any harm of Russia, nor make up his mind to look kindly
or trustfully upon the government of the French Emperor. Lord Clarendon
saw through the spectacles of his chief. The obstinate convictions of
the composite cabinet communicated themselves to its agents. Admiral
Dundas—whom Colonel Rose, then _chargé d’affaires_ at Constantinople, in
the absence of the ambassador, sent to, at the request of the Grand
Vizier, to urge the propriety of his exhibiting his pennant at some
point rather nearer to the Dardanelles than Malta—thought the movement
unnecessary. Colonel Rose was afterwards removed from Constantinople,
and one of Lord Stratford’s first acts, on his return to the post whence
his prolonged absence, at such a time, was a gross impropriety, was to
write to his government that there was every reason to expect that the
questions pending would be brought to a satisfactory termination. This
Lord Clarendon stated in his place in the House of Lords on the 25th of
April, and, at the same time, gave the most satisfactory and positive
assurances with respect to the state of affairs in the East. “As regards
Turkey,” thus did he conclude his speech, “there was _no danger of the
peace of Europe being disturbed, nor any prospect of the unanimity which
prevailed between this country and the other great powers of Europe, as
to the necessity of maintaining the integrity and independence of the
Ottoman empire, being interrupted_.” It was not unnatural, the noble
Secretary admitted, in another part of his speech, “that Colonel Rose,
_not being cognisant of the information possessed by her Majesty’s
government_, should participate in the alarm which was, in the first
instance, caused by Prince Menschikoff’s arrival.” The information of
her Majesty’s Government seems to have been worth about as much as their
penetration, the sole difference being that the inefficiency of their
agents, or the discretion of the Czar’s, might be the cause of the
badness of the former, whilst none but themselves were responsible for
the obtuseness of the latter. Upon the 5th of May, just ten days after
the Foreign Secretary’s speech, the French and English ambassadors at
Constantinople were made officially acquainted with the real object of
the Menschikoff mission. The Czar demanded the protectorate over
four-fifths of the European subjects of the Porte, over the twelve
millions of Greek Christians contained in the dominions of the Sultan,
who would thus, to all practical purposes, become the vassal of Russia.
Confidential communications, Prince Menschikoff reminded the Turkish
minister of Foreign Affairs, had already been made to the Porte of the
tenor of this outrageous demand. It has not been ascertained how long
previously to the official note the private intimation had been
conveyed; but it is quite clear that the fact of its conveyance was not
comprised in “the information possessed by her Majesty’s Government” on
the 25th of April.
The Czar’s real object might have been yet longer in revealing itself,
but for the skilful and decided course adopted by the French government.
The English and French press—with almost the sole exception of the
_Times_, which, in unusual opposition to the public voice, and
disregarding the warnings contained in its own published correspondence,
still persisted in sharing Lord Aberdeen’s views, and in maintaining the
question of the Holy Shrines to be the only one at issue—had, for some
time past, loudly denounced the intentions of Russia. But nothing could
move Lord Aberdeen. He remained the personification of stubborn
stolidity. The whole question, for him, was centred in a few ancient and
sacred buildings at Jerusalem. His pretended convictions were powerfully
influenced by his repugnance to anything like cordial combined action
with the government of Napoleon III. His political friends on the other
side the Channel rejoiced at his tenacious and wilful short-sightedness.
Thanks to it, the usurper was about to find himself in isolated
opposition to a European coalition. His downfall was decided upon.
England would stand aloof; never—and of this the Orleanist and
legitimate partisans had private and positive assurances from persons
professing to speak in the name of Lord Aberdeen—would there be any real
and durable alliance with France under the imperial regime. The French
government felt that its position was becoming an uneasy one, and, with
great judgment, resolved to bring matters to a crisis. Its ambassador at
Constantinople—where the question of the Holy Places was then being
discussed by the ministers of Russia, France, and Turkey—received
instructions to yield so far as to bring about a prompt settlement. This
was giving rope to Russia. The difficulties about the shrines once
removed, Prince Menschikoff had, for sole alternative, to declare
himself satisfied, and take his departure, or to produce what remained
at the bottom of his official bag. This was the project of the famous
_sened_, or convention, that was to annihilate the independence of the
Porte by giving the Czar authority over four-fifths of its European
subjects, and a pretext for constant interference in its internal
affairs. The verbal note of the 19th April had already conveyed a pretty
plain hint, that refusal of compliance with the Czar’s demands would be
the signal for stringent measures on the part of the Russian envoy.
From the date of the 5th May, the Turkish question may be said to have
been placed upon its proper basis. Henceforward the case was clear; none
could any longer maintain that the settlement of a dispute about a
silver star and a church key, about the cave of Gethsemane and the
garden of Bethlehem, was the sole and simple object of Menschikoff’s
mission, of the review of naval and military armaments that had preceded
it, and of his menacing and offensive notes and deportment to the
Turkish government. The point at which the dispute has now arrived, and
the long discussion it has undergone in the public press, renders it
unnecessary for us to do more than briefly note the events that have
since rapidly succeeded each other. The Sultan persisting in his very
natural refusal to abdicate the better half of his sovereign rights,
upon the 18th of May Prince Menschikoff broke off official
communications, and embarked with the whole legation on board a Russian
man-of-war. On the 21st he quitted Constantinople. One more effort was
made by Russia to induce the Porte to bend to her will. A letter from
Count Nesselrode to the Grand Vizier renewed, with no better success,
the demand that had already been rejected. The French and English fleets
moored in Besika Bay, the Russian troops having previously crossed the
Pruth and occupied the Danubian provinces. Simultaneously with this act
of invasion, the Czar’s government protested their respect for the
integrity and independence of the Turkish empire. If they occupied two
of its provinces, it was merely to enforce the acceptance of conditions
annulling the very independence they professed to respect. The entrance
of the troops was not to be considered as an act of war, and the
position guaranteed by treaty to Moldavia and Wallachia would be in no
way altered by it. Notwithstanding this assurance, the hospodars were
soon afterwards ordered to notify to the Porte that they broke off all
intercourse with it, and should no longer pay it tribute. This was
certainly a singular mode of respecting the _statu quo_ of the
principalities.
Convinced at last, by Russia’s acts, of those ulterior views it had so
long refused to credit, the Aberdeen ministry applied itself, in concert
with France, to endeavour amicably to terminate the untoward affair,
which a little penetration or sincerity on its part might never have
allowed to assume such alarming proportions. Although the conduct of
Russia was a manifest violation of the treaties of Adrianople and Balta
Liman, her strange declaration that the armed occupation of two Turkish
provinces was not to be taken as an act of war was allowed to pass
current, and negotiations were commenced—a circular of Count
Nesselrode’s having previously been replied to by the governments of
France and England, in terms proving their unity of action and their
resolution to preserve the integrity of the Turkish empire. Austria, who
had long stood undecided, offered her intervention between Russia and
the Porte. It was accepted. A project of agreement drawn up at Paris,
was submitted at Vienna to the conference composed of the ambassadors of
England, France, Austria, and Prussia. Russian influence at Berlin, and
close family alliance, had kept the last-named power aloof from the
contention, in like manner as recent obligations had long restrained the
young Francis Joseph from even intimating his dissatisfaction with a
policy of aggression whose development no European power has more cause
than Austria to apprehend and deprecate. The French note, after
undergoing at Vienna some slight and unimportant alterations, was at
once accepted by the Emperor. The text of this note has not, that we are
aware of, yet transpired. But the Emperor’s promptness was suspicious.
His acceptance was contingent on the Porte’s agreeing to the note
without modification, and this the Porte refused to do. For a moment the
Turkish government was blamed, until it became known that the
interpretation put by Russia upon the Vienna note, was such as would
have enabled her to act upon it in the same manner as upon the
convention proposed to the Sultan by Prince Menschikoff, to the
acceptance of which she therefore considered it virtually tantamount.
Thus were the efforts of diplomacy once more frustrated, and the whole
question thrown completely open.
The wisdom and moderation of which the Emperor Nicholas has, upon so
many occasions, given proof, his unceasing efforts for the improvement
of his subjects’ moral and physical state, and the many high qualities
none can deny him to possess, command admiration, and augment our regret
that he should have placed himself in a position from which he can
extricate himself only by a sacrifice of dignity and prestige, or by
plunging Europe into war. Upon the other hand, the state of Turkey is
not a very edifying spectacle for Christendom. Under no circumstances
can it be a pleasing sight to behold Christians subjected to Mahometan
rule, even though that be exercised mildly, and a disposition shown to
ameliorate their condition. But, although commonly assumed, it is by no
means proved that the general feeling of the Greek Christians in Turkey
is in favour of their transfer to the Czar. Their dream is of the
re-establishment of their nationality, of an independent Byzantine
empire, a project often mooted, and as often pronounced theoretical and
impracticable. Failing to obtain that, they naturally ask themselves
whether they would be better off under Russian than under Turkish sway.
A few years ago, there would have been no doubt as to the reply, but
since then their condition has greatly improved; and the present alarm
of the Porte, which has already, within the last few weeks, given birth
to firman after firman, conferring new privileges and immunities upon
its Christian subjects—will stimulate the Sultan’s government speedily
to grant all those concessions that the Greeks may fairly claim, and
which their overwhelming numerical majority, backed by the influence of
England and France, must secure their ultimately obtaining. This is not
the moment, however, to go into these considerations, or into that
minute examination of the state of the Christians in Turkey which at
another time it may be interesting to institute. The news of the last
few days have compressed the question, for the present, within much
narrower limits. Whatever emancipation there may be in store for the
Christians of Turkey—whether in the form of independence or of partition
amongst Christian powers—it must not proceed from the arbitrary mandate
of any one potentate. It must be matter of accord between the great
powers of Europe, and such accord may be very difficult to arrive at. If
treaties are to be treated as waste-paper, and international law set at
nought, we sink at once into political barbarism, and establish, by a
most perilous precedent, the law of the strongest to be the only one
that governs us.
The conduct of Turkey, throughout the whole of this unpleasant affair,
cannot in any respect be justly blamed. In the discussion of the
question of the Holy Shrines, in which she herself had no interest, she
displayed great patience, and a sincere desire to conciliate and please
both of the powers that claimed—the one on the strength of treaties, the
other by no other right than that of its influence and community of
faith with twelve millions of Turkish subjects—to interfere in the
appropriation of those sacred relics. The charges of bad faith and
breach of engagement brought against her by Russia remind us of those
brought by the wolf against the sheep that drank at the same brook. When
Prince Menschikoff’s departure, and the formidable preparations that
Russia had been making ever since the beginning of the year, compelled
her, as a measure of the commonest prudence, actively to arm, she did it
quietly and unostentatiously, and exerted herself to the utmost to keep
down the fanatical spirit of the Asiatics she summoned to the defence of
her European territory. The only mistake the Porte may be thought to
have made in the whole affair, is that it did not at once accept the
Vienna note. It would then have been in the hands and under the
protection of the honour of the Four Powers who drew it up, and who
certainly could not have accepted the Czar’s interpretation, nor have
suffered him to act upon it. Their conference was not held to compel
Turkey to yield everything to Russia, but to pare down the exorbitance
of the latter power’s demands. Here, again, however, the Sultan’s
government was not free to act as it chose. The fanaticism of the
Mussulmans was fully roused; and a furious insurrection, the Sultan’s
deposition and death, and massacres of Christians, were perhaps only to
be averted by the rejection of the note, as they since have been only by
a declaration of war. This was made on the 9th of October, and much
speculation is already afloat as to the prospects and probabilities of a
campaign, which we still trust may be brought to a close before it has
been commenced by anything more important than outpost skirmishes. From
its very commencement, this Eastern question has abounded in curious and
contradictory positions. Thus Turkey waits until October to declare a
war which Russia has actually commenced nearly four months previously,
by taking armed possession of a part of the Sultan’s territory. Her
declaration of war is a mere acquiescence in the attitude her adversary
has already imposed upon her. Another odd circumstance is that, as
Russia is not likely to cross the Danube at this season of the year, but
will more probably content herself with remaining quietly in the
principalities, and there establishing her influence and organising her
administration, the Turks, instead of standing on the defensive, must,
if they wish to do anything, move forward to seek the invader. But it is
more probable that they will remain in quiet observation on the south
bank of the stream, unless indeed the fanatical ardour of the Moslem
troops compels their chiefs to lead them across it—certainly a hazardous
enterprise at this season, and in the presence of an enemy greatly
superior, we suspect, in discipline, although perhaps neither in courage
nor in numbers. The line of the Danube is a long one, however, and, with
the forces the Czar had, up to the last accounts, in the provinces, it
might be very difficult to prevent a Turkish _corps d’armée_ from
crossing at some unguarded spot.
The Turkish army, according to the most reliable accounts that can be
obtained, consists of about 150,000 men, but a fresh levy of a like
number has just been ordered; and, as far as numbers go, Turkey has vast
resources in her fierce Asiatic population. Independently of her regular
army, various provinces, which do not furnish soldiers in peace time,
are bound to do so when war breaks out. Servia, Bosnia, Upper Albania,
Egypt, Tripoli, Tunis, are amongst them. Egypt has already despatched
her ten thousand. The editor of the French _Journal de Constantinople_,
M. Nogués, affirmed about four months ago, in his newspaper, that in a
general war, where important objects were at stake, the Sultan, as chief
of the Mahometan faith, could rally round his banner a million of armed
men, ardent in his cause, and eager to fight. Before taxing this
estimate with exaggeration, we must remember how easy it is to rouse the
fanaticism of the Asiatic Turks. The auxiliary contingents supplied by
the European and African provinces enumerated above, are estimated, by
another authority, to amount to 110,000 men. The _rédif_, or reserve,
which is what the Sultan has just called out, consists of soldiers who,
having served for the prescribed term of six years, obtain their
discharge. For seven years from its date, they are on the strength of
the reserve, whose skeleton is kept up, whose officers and
non-commissioned officers are paid, and which is mustered at intervals,
like our yeomanry and militia, to renew the habit of drill and
discipline. Thus this reserve forms a second army, which a very short
time would render as efficient as the first. Tartars, Cossacks from the
lakes of Asia Minor, and other irregulars, are counted at about 60,000.
By adding all these figures together we arrive at a total of upwards of
450,000 men. We do not, by the exhibition of these formidable numbers,
mean to imply a belief that Turkey, left to her own resources, could
make head against Russia, but all the evidence we have collected induces
us to believe that the Czar’s armies would have some trouble and sharp
fighting before getting to Constantinople.
A French writer, apparently military, and well acquainted with the
ground, sketched, a few days ago, in a Paris paper, the _Univers_, the
various routes the Russians might follow, supposing them across the
Danube; and it is interesting to trace upon the map the track he assigns
to the invaders. The Danube crossed, the Balkan is the next obstacle,
and affords excellent positions to a defensive army. There are three
roads by which the passage of this mountain may be attempted, and all
three are parallel to the west coast of the Black Sea, “whence,” says
the writer quoted, “the Russian army might be supplied and supported by
its fleet, if England and France did not oppose it. The capture of the
port of Varna would be a great advantage to Russia.” Not only
advantageous, but indispensable. The navigation of the Black Sea is
extremely perilous for large sailing vessels (of which the Turkish fleet
in those waters is chiefly composed), owing to constant and capricious
changes in the wind, which often chops suddenly round and rises into
tremendous hurricanes. As refuge from these, Varna is the only port on
the Turkish-European shore capable of receiving large vessels. But Varna
is an exceedingly strong place; the Turkish artillery practice, thanks
to Prussian instructors, is equal to any in Europe; and as an example of
the manner in which Turks—fallen though their empire be, and
extinguished their glory—will fight when well commanded, it is not
uninteresting to refer to an account of the last siege of Varna.
“The important fortress of Varna, on the Black Sea,” (says M.
Poujoulat, in his _Histoire de Constantinople_,[54]) “capitulated on
the 10th October 1828, after a murderous siege of forty days’
duration. The Russian loss was very heavy. Yussuf Pasha, one of the
chiefs of the Ottoman army, went over, with arms and baggage, to the
Muscovite camp. This defection, purchased, it was said, by Russian
gold, was the signal of Varna’s fall. What is certain is, that that
general retired into Russia, where he lived in disgraceful splendour,
although Mahmoud II. had confiscated all his possessions in Turkey. If
Yussuf Pasha’s conduct was that of a traitor, that of Izzet Mehemet,
governor of Varna, excited the admiration even of his enemies. Several
times summoned to surrender, his invariable reply was, that he would
never ask pardon of the Giaours. He fought like a gallant soldier to
the very last. The Emperor Nicholas publicly eulogised his courage,
and, unwilling to expose Varna to the horrors of capture by assault,
he proposed to him to quit the town with the honours of war. Izzet
Mehemet, who had but three hundred men left with him, accepted the
offer. To recompense his brilliant behaviour, Mahmoud named him Grand
Vizier.”