Chapter XXX (7)

We had better give _in extenso_ the conversation which immediately followed; because we think that Sir Hamilton Seymour might, without any breach of propriety, have used more decided language than he did employ, with regard to the view likely to be taken by the British Cabinet. We are quite aware of the difficulties of an ambassador in such a situation; still we cannot avoid the conclusion that Sir H. Seymour was unnecessarily timid, and not nearly decided enough in the tone which he assumed. He objected, indeed, but the objection was rather feeble; which was unfortunate, as his principal in England immediately adopted the like inconclusive tone.

“‘Sir,’ I replied, ‘your Majesty is so frank with me that I am sure
you will have the goodness to permit me to speak with the same
openness. I would then observe that, deplorable as is the condition of
Turkey, it is a country which has long been plunged in difficulties
supposed by many to be insurmountable. With regard to contingent
arrangements, her Majesty’s Government, as your Majesty is well aware,
objects, as a general rule to taking engagements upon possible
eventualities, and would, perhaps, be particularly disinclined to
doing so in this instance. If I may be allowed to say so, a great
disinclination (_répugnance_) might be expected in England to
disposing by anticipation (_d’escompter_) of the succession of an old
friend and ally.’

“‘The rule is a good one,’ the Emperor replied, ‘good at all times,
especially in times of uncertainty and change, like the present: still
it is of the greatest importance that we should understand one an
other, and not allow events to take us by surprise; maintenant je
désire vous parler en ami et en _gentleman_; si nous arrivons à nous
entendre sur cette affaire, l’Angleterre et moi, pour le reste peu
m’importe; il m’est indifferent ce que font ou pensent les autres.
Usant donc de franchise, je vous dis nettement, que si l’Angleterre
songe à s’établir un de ces jours à Constantinople, je ne le
permettrai pas; je ne vous prête point ces intentions, mais il vaut
mieux dans ces occasions parler clairement; de mon côté, je suis
également disposé de prendre l’engagement de ne pas m’y établir, _en
propriétaire il s’entend, car en dépositaire je ne dis pas_; il
pourrait se faire que les circonstances me misent dans le cas
d’occuper Constantinople, si rien ne se trouve prévu, si l’on doit
tout laisser aller au hazard.’

“I thanked his Majesty for the frankness of his declarations, and for
the desire which he had expressed of acting cordially and openly with
her Majesty’s Government, observing at the same time that such an
understanding appeared the best security against the sudden danger to
which his Majesty had alluded. I added that, although unprepared to
give a decided opinion upon questions of such magnitude and delicacy,
it appeared to me possible that some such arrangement might be made
between her Majesty’s Government and his Majesty as might guard, if
not for, at least against certain contingencies.

“To render my meaning more clear,” I said, further, “I can only
repeat, Sir, that in my opinion her Majesty’s Government will be
indisposed to make certain arrangements connected with the downfall of
Turkey, _but it is possible that they may be ready to pledge
themselves against certain arrangements which might, in that event, be
attempted_.”

We have no desire whatever to reflect upon the conduct of the prudence of Sir Hamilton Seymour, but we cannot help saying that he seems to have missed one very material point—that being _a distinct explanation of the quarter from which the anticipated danger to Turkey was to arise_. Sir Hamilton was perfectly justified in intimating that Britain did not intend to subvert the integrity of Turkey, and that she would not be passive if France were to manifest such a design. There was no earthly danger from either quarter; and certainly Austria, whatever she may wish to have or is ready to receive, would not have dared, under existing circumstances, to disturb the peace of Europe. Turkey itself was in a far better position than it ever had been. “L’homme gravement malade,” was exhibiting every symptom of convalescence, and the only danger to be apprehended was from the Muscovite doctor, who, without being summoned, was preparing to administer his pills. Therefore, we think that the rejoinder to the Emperor’s confidences—subject, of course, to the official Cabinet approval—should have been in the shape of a query as to the nature of the apprehended danger. The Czar had protested, in the most emphatic language, that he was “eager for the prolonged existence of the man;” and, if that were the case, his dissolution was an event much less likely than that of many a dynasty of Christian Europe. With Russia and Britain as determined protectors, who was to give him the _coup-de-grace_? Surely Sir Hamilton Seymour erred in not putting that point more forcibly and distinctly in his confidential conversations with the Emperor.

We say this, because the last paragraph in Sir Hamilton Seymour’s despatch, of 22d January 1853, to Lord John Russell shows that he was not altogether uninfluenced by the Imperial blandishments and affectation of perfect sincerity.

“A noble triumph would be obtained by the civilisation of the
nineteenth century if the void left by the extinction of Mahommedan
rule in Europe could be filled up without an interruption of the
general peace, in consequence of the precautions adopted by the two
principal Governments the most interested in the destinies of Turkey.”

Precautions indeed! Precautions which would have made Russia, without assuming the name of proprietor, the virtual and absolute occupier of Constantinople, with the power of the keys of the Bosphorus! It is marvellous that so acute a minister as Sir Hamilton Seymour—who otherwise deserves great praise for his lucid exposition of the designs and motives of the Czar—did not perceive that any approach to an arrangement for disposing of the inheritance, was tantamount to a declaration of the immediate dissolution of Turkey.

In answer to these communications, Lord John Russell, on the 9th February, forwarded a despatch, of the wisdom of which it is for the public to form their own opinion. It commences with an acknowledgment of “the moderation, the frankness, and the friendly disposition of his Imperial Majesty.” Why the first of these terms should have been employed, we really do not comprehend. Then Lord John, adverting to the indirect proposal of the Emperor, observes that—“In considering this grave question, the first reflection which occurs to Her Majesty’s Government is, that no actual crisis has occurred which renders necessary a solution of this vast European problem”—that “there is no sufficient cause for intimating to the Sultan that he cannot keep peace at home, or preserve friendly relations with his neighbours”—and that “it occurs further to her Majesty’s Government to remark that the event which is contemplated is not definitely fixed in point of time.” After pointing out the impropriety as well as the impolicy of devising a partition for providing for a settlement under such circumstances, Lord John intimates, in tolerably distinct terms, that “neither England nor France, nor probably Austria, would be content to see Constantinople permanently in the hands of Russia.” He then draws the following conclusions:—

“Upon the whole, then, Her Majesty’s Government are persuaded that no
course of policy can be adopted more wise, more disinterested, more
beneficial to Europe, than that which His Imperial Majesty has so long
followed, and which will render his name more illustrious than that of
the most famous sovereigns who have sought immortality by unprovoked
conquest and ephemeral glory.

“With a view to the success of this policy, it is desirable that the
utmost forbearance should be manifested towards Turkey; that any
demands which the Great Powers of Europe may have to make should be
made matter of friendly negotiation rather than of peremptory demand;
that military and naval demonstrations to coerce the Sultan should as
much as possible be avoided; that differences with respect to matters
affecting Turkey, within the competence of the Sublime Porte, should
be decided after mutual concert between the great powers, and not be
forced upon the weakness of the Turkish Government.”

To this succeeds a passage which we cannot help considering as unfortunate, because it gives decided colour to the Russian pretext, that a protectorate over Turkey was necessary for securing the rights of the Christian inhabitants. There was no occasion whatever for its introduction, especially as the Emperor had not thought it necessary to ask advice upon the subject:—

“To these cautions Her Majesty’s Government wish to add, that in their
view it is essential that the Sultan should be advised to treat his
Christian subjects in conformity with the principles of equity and
religious freedom which prevail generally among the enlightened
nations of Europe. The more the Turkish Government adopts the rules of
impartial law and equal administration, the less will the Emperor of
Russia find it necessary to apply that exceptional protection which
his Imperial Majesty has found so burdensome and inconvenient, though
no doubt prescribed by duty and sanctioned by treaty.

We observe that the _Times_, notwithstanding its notorious ministerial leaning, has declined awarding praise to this state document, and we are not surprised at it. It is dissuasive and declinatory, but it is altogether feeble. We should have expected to find in it, not hypocritical acknowledgments of Imperial moderation and so forth, but a distinct, firm, and energetic protest against any attempt to disturb the peace, or to violate the integrity of Turkey. The infamous proposals made to Britain—for they were infamous not only as regarded Turkey but other European powers—should have been rejected in a manner that could have left no doubt in the mind of the Czar as to the part which the British Government was prepared to take in the event of his entering into hostilities with the Sultan. From the beginning to the end of this despatch there is not a single word which can be construed into a plain warning to the Czar, that any attempt made by him upon Turkey would provoke the hostility of Britain. On the contrary, the declinature to participate in the scheme is mainly founded on the fact that no “actual crisis” has yet arrived; but there is nothing said to indicate that Britain would oppose the forcing on of such a crisis, if Russia thought proper to precipitate it; and a more unlucky expression than “_that the event which was contemplated is not definitely fixed in point of time_” it is utterly impossible to conceive. The perusal of this despatch could leave no other impression upon the mind of the Czar, than that the British Ministry were afraid to commit themselves by entering into any secret or separate treaty with Russia for the disposal of the Turkish dominions, until a crisis actually should occur. That they would have preferred the maintenance of the _status quo_ to a disturbance of it, was tolerably clear; but it was not in the least degree clear that they would take umbrage at an act of aggression, or be indisposed to treat with Russia after the aggression was made, and the weakness of the Ottoman empire exhibited by its being forced to succumb to the attack of the northern Colossus. The despatch, in short, was not couched in such manly, distinct, and positive terms as a British Secretary of State for foreign affairs should have employed on such an occasion. It is weak, timid, and almost subservient; and we are not in the least degree surprised to find that the Czar considered that it gave him sufficient encouragement again to renew his attack. Here is an extract from his next conversation with the British envoy, Sir Hamilton Seymour.

“‘I think your Government does not well understand my object. I am not
so eager about what shall be done when the sick man dies, as I am to
determine with England what shall not be done upon that event taking
place.’

“‘But, sir,’ I replied, ‘allow me to observe, that we have no reason
to think that the sick man (to use your Majesty’s expression) is
dying. We are as much interested as we believe your Majesty to be in
his continuing to live; while, for myself, I will venture to remark
that experience shows me that countries do not die in such a hurry.
Turkey will remain for many a year, unless some unforeseen crisis
should occur. It is precisely, sir, for the avoidance of all
circumstances likely to produce such a crisis that Her Majesty’s
Government reckons upon your generous assistance.’

“‘Then,’ rejoined the Emperor, ‘I will tell you that, if your
Government has been led to believe that Turkey retains any elements of
existence, your Government must have received incorrect information. I
repeat to you, that the sick man is dying; and we can never allow such
an event to take us by surprise. We must come to some understanding;
and this we should do, I am convinced, if I could hold but ten
minutes’ conversation with your Ministers—with Lord Aberdeen, for
instance, who knows me so well, who has full confidence in me, as I
have in him. And, remember, I do not ask for a treaty or a protocol; a
general understanding is all I require—that between gentlemen is
sufficient; and in this case I am certain that the confidence would be
as great on the side of the Queen’s Ministers as on mine.’”

The despatch, containing the report of this conversation, was written on the 21st February, and received at the Foreign Office on 6th March 1853; so that the Emperor Nicholas, whatever may be thought of his conduct otherwise, cannot be justly charged with deliberate perfidy in concealing his views from our Government. Indeed, Sir Hamilton Seymour, in this very document, gave Lord John Russell a distinct intimation of the real objects of the Czar.

“It can hardly be otherwise but that the Sovereign, who insists with
such pertinacity upon the impending fall of a neighbouring state, must
have settled in his own mind that the hour, if not of its dissolution,
at all events for its dissolution, must be at hand.

“Then, as now, I reflected that this assumption would hardly be
ventured upon unless some, perhaps general, but at all events intimate
understanding, existed _between Russia and Austria_.

“Supposing my suspicion to be well founded, the Emperor’s object is to
engage Her Majesty’s Government, in conjunction with his own Cabinet
and that of Vienna, in some scheme for the ultimate partition of
Turkey, and for the exclusion of France from the arrangement.”

On the following day a more particular, and, if possible, more interesting, conversation took place between the Czar and the British envoy. We regret extremely that our limits will not allow us to detail this so fully as we could wish, but we shall advert to the principal points, which were in the form of a commentary upon Lord John Russell’s despatch. The Emperor began by saying,—

“That he was, perhaps, even more interested than England could be in
preventing a Turkish catastrophe, but that it was constantly
impending; that it might be brought about at any moment, either by an
external war, or by a feud between the old Turkish party and that of
the ‘new superficial French reforms,’ or again, by a rising of the
Christians, already known to be very impatient of shaking off the
Mussulman yoke. As regards the first cause, the Emperor said that he
had a good right to advert to it, inasmuch as, if he had not stopped
the victorious progress of General Diebitch in 1829, the Sultan’s
authority would have been at an end.”

Next he descanted upon what could _not_ be permitted in the event of a break-up of the Ottoman empire. This is perhaps the most curious passage of the whole.

“‘Well, there are several things which I never will tolerate; I will
begin by ourselves. I will not tolerate _the permanent occupation_ of
Constantinople by the Russians; having said this, I will say that it
never shall be held by the English, or French, or any other great
nation. Again, I never will permit an attempt at the reconstruction of
a Byzantine empire, or such an extension of Greece as would render her
a powerful state; still less will I permit the breaking up of Turkey
into little republics, asylums for the Kossuths and Mazzinis, and
other revolutionists of Europe; rather than submit any of these
arrangements I would go to war, and as long as I have a man and a
musket left would carry it on. These,’ the Emperor said, ‘are at once
some ideas; now give me some in return.’”

This was an awkward demand, but Sir H. Seymour seems to have acquitted himself with sufficient adroitness. He put the following case: “How would it be if, in the event of any catastrophe occurring in Turkey, Russia and England were to declare that no Power should be allowed to take possession of its provinces; that the property should remain, as it were, under seals, until amicable arrangements could be made as to its adjudication?” Of course this notion could not be countenanced; and the Emperor’s reply allowed Sir Hamilton the opportunity of making the following remark:—

“‘Sir,’ I then observed, ‘if your Majesty will allow me to speak
plainly, I would say that the great difference between us is this—that
you continue to dwell upon the fall of Turkey, and the arrangements
requisite before and after the fall; and that we, on the contrary,
look to Turkey remaining where she is, and to the precautions which
are necessary for preventing her condition from becoming worse.’ ‘Ah!’
replied the Emperor, ‘that is what the Chancellor is perpetually
telling me; but the catastrophe will occur some day, and will take us
all unawares.’”

Then follows a passage of very great interest at the present moment, when the course which Austria may adopt is still matter of speculation. Our impression has been, and is, that she will ultimately co-operate with Russia.

“Being desirous, if possible, of ascertaining whether there was any
understanding between the Cabinets of St Petersburg and Vienna, I
added, ‘But your Majesty has forgotten Austria; now all these Eastern
questions affect her very nearly; she, of course, would expect to be
consulted.’ ‘Oh!’ replied the Emperor, greatly to my surprise, ‘but
you must understand that when I speak of Russia I speak of Austria as
well: what suits the one suits the other; our interests as regards
Turkey are perfectly identical.’ I should have been glad to make
another inquiry or two upon this subject, but I did not venture to do
so.”

Next comes the bribe—for we can call it nothing else—implied in the Emperor’s statement, already quoted, that he saw no reason why, in the event of the dissolution of the Ottoman empire, Great Britain should not obtain possession of Egypt and Candia! And so completely does he seem to have considered that point settled, that a few days afterwards, and without any further intercourse with Britain (for so we are given to understand), a confidential memorandum, dictated by the Czar, and containing the following passage, was placed in the hands of Sir Hamilton Seymour:—

“In short, the Emperor cannot but congratulate himself at having given
occasion for this intimate interchange of confidential communications
between Her Majesty and himself. He has found therein valuable
assurances, of which he takes note with a lively satisfaction. The two
Sovereigns have frankly explained to each other, what in the extreme
case of which they have been treating, their respective interests
cannot endure. England understands that Russia cannot suffer the
establishment at Constantinople of a Christian Power sufficiently
strong to control and disquiet her. She declares, that for herself she
renounces any intention or desire to possess Constantinople. The
Emperor equally disclaims any wish or design of establishing himself
there. England promises that she will enter into no arrangement for
determining the measures to be taken in the event of the fall of the
Turkish empire, without a previous understanding with the Emperor. The
Emperor, on his side, willingly contracts the same engagement. As he
is aware that in such a case he can equally reckon upon Austria, who
is bound by her promises to concert with him, he regards with less
apprehension the catastrophe which he still desires to prevent, and
avert as much as it shall depend on him to do so.”

This is, perhaps, the most extraordinary note that was ever issued. If founded upon nothing else than Lord John Russell’s single despatch of 9th February 1853, it is an attempt to make a memorandum supply the place of a treaty, and that not with regard to existing circumstances, but to a contingency involving the destruction of an ally. The Emperor must, indeed, have had great faith in the subserviency of the British Cabinet to his views, before he could have ventured on such a step. Lord Clarendon now comes into action, as the successor of Lord John Russell in the Home Office; but we need not pursue the correspondence further than to say, that it was conducted on the same principle of remonstrance, though very feeble on the part of the British Minister, against the assumption that Turkey was absolutely in a critical state, and of assertion to the contrary on the part of the Czar. His object was to alienate Britain from France—to keep the latter power out of any arrangement which might be made for the partition of the Turkish territories—and to hasten the crisis as fast as possible, in order that Britain might be compelled to come to definite terms. Lord Clarendon’s despatches are couched in terms quite unworthy of his position. Lord John Russell, who had primarily to state the views of the British Cabinet, may be excused for a certain weakness of expression; but no such apology can be made for Lord Clarendon, who was bound emphatically to have informed the Czar that this country disdained his proposals, and was prepared, at any hazard, to maintain the integrity of Turkey. We say that he was bound to have done so, on the supposition that the Aberdeen Ministry disapproved of the partition of Turkey, and were prepared, by force of arms, to oppose it. Disapproval is of two kinds: There is the faint remonstrance, which is usually considered to imply reluctant consent; and there is strong distinct denial, which cannot possibly be misinterpreted. We find no such strong distinct denial in Lord Clarendon’s despatches. They are filled with almost fulsome adulation of the Czar, who had previously tendered a bribe. Thus, in the despatch of 23d March, we find the following passage:—

“The generous confidence exhibited by the Emperor entitles His
Imperial Majesty to the most cordial declaration of opinion on the
part of Her Majesty’s Government, who are fully aware that, in the
event of any understanding with reference to future contingencies
being expedient, or indeed possible, the word of His Imperial Majesty
would be preferable to any convention that could be framed.”

Scarce less miserably sycophantish are the terms of the despatch of April 5th. “My despatch of the 23d ult. will have furnished you with answers upon all the principal points alluded to in the memorandum which Count Nesselrode placed in your hands; but it is my duty to inform you that that important and remarkable document was received by her Majesty’s Government with feelings of sincere satisfaction, as a renewed proof of the Emperor’s confidence and friendly feelings; and her Majesty’s Government desire to convey their acknowledgments to his Imperial Majesty for having thus placed on record the opinions he expressed at the interview with which you were honoured by his Imperial Majesty.”

We do not profess to know much about the language of diplomacy; but if these are the sort of terms to be addressed to an avowed disturber of the peace of Europe, who has attempted to engage us in a conspiracy by offer of a bribe, we are at a loss to know what language can afford by way of adequate encomium to a really honest ally. The excuse of sincere belief in the sincerity of the Czar is entirely precluded by the terms of the previous communications from Sir Hamilton Seymour, which not only indicate but demonstrate the game which the Autocrat was playing. It is certainly remarkable to observe the extreme cordiality with which the Emperor greeted the accession of his old friend, Lord Aberdeen, to power, and the fervency of his wishes for his long continuance in office. Immediately thereafter—or rather on the same occasion—he begins to develop his designs upon Turkey, states his prognosis of the condition of the sick gentleman, and requests to be informed what are our views as to the partition of his property. Our Ministers demur as to the fact of the sickness; but the Imperial Doctor assures them that it is so, or shall immediately be so, and states that he will be contented with a temporary occupation of the dying man’s domicile—the catastrophe to be hastened by a bolus of his own administration—but that we are perfectly welcome to seize upon certain outlying hereditaments! And in return to such proposals, which, if agreed to, would have made us deservedly infamous throughout Europe, the Ministers of Queen Victoria think fit to beslaver the Czar! Since the days of Charles II. England has seen no similar instance of adulation to a foreign potentate.

The correspondence is now before the world, and the public must decide whether it is such as to justify Lord Aberdeen’s assertion, in reply to Lord Derby, “that if he thought it would be found to contain anything on which a charge could be founded against the Government, he would find himself egregiously mistaken.” Undoubtedly they are not chargeable with connivance—but they are chargeable with incapacity and misconduct so gross, that even connivance could not have produced effects more disastrous. If they did not play directly into the hands of the Czar, they failed to make him aware of the part which they were bound to take should he persist in his nefarious designs. They manifested no kind of honourable indignation at his offers; they received his cajolements with complacency, and paid him back with compliments and assurances not one whit more sincere than his own. If this really is the style in which our diplomatic intercourse is usually conducted, there is ample room for a reform. They cannot with justice assert that the Emperor was keeping them in the dark as to the nature of his own projects. He was, on the contrary, particularly frank. He insisted, over and over again, that Turkey was on the eve of dissolution; he even indicated that he might himself be the agent to force on that catastrophe—and yet Lord Aberdeen and his colleagues are now maintaining that he had deceived them! How, where, and when were they deceived? He showed them the victim, prophesied his immediate death, intimated that the fatal deathblow might be given by his hand, told them that he was in accord with Austria, invited them to declare their wishes as to the subsequent partition, and emphatically assured them that there was no time to be lost. Let us call things by their proper names. Stigmatise the conduct of the Czar, if you will, as ambitious, tyrannical, unprincipled, or nefarious—but do not accuse him of having concealed his purpose from the British Ministry.

Were the Ministers then so blind that they failed to perceive his purpose? Of course they were not. The Cabinet which contained Lords Aberdeen and Palmerston, both of them experienced in foreign affairs, could be at no loss to divine his meaning, even if that had been more obscurely expressed; and consequently we must conclude that so early as March 1853 they were put thoroughly on their guard. They were aware that the Czar meditated the destruction of the Ottoman empire, and having that knowledge, every movement of his in the East, whether diplomatic or military, could only be regarded as progressive means towards the end proposed.

Now there were two courses open to Ministers. The one was to have intimated at once, without any circumlocution or compliment, that Great Britain would not submit to any invasion of the Turkish territories on the part of a European power, but would be prepared, by force of arms, to resist any such attempt. That would have been a manly and honourable course; and we are satisfied that, if adopted, the Czar would not have had the temerity to provoke a crisis. Unfortunately no declaration was made. A faint dissuasive, accompanied by an immense deal of complimentary sugar, was all that our Ministers ventured to tender; and the Czar was accordingly allowed to proceed, under the evident impression that Great Britain would not actively interfere to prevent his designs upon Turkey, any more than she interfered to prevent those of his ancestress upon Poland.

The other course was to have maintained a strict neutrality, and to have treated the Eastern question as an affair entirely between Russia and Turkey. To that, however, it is more than doubtful whether the people of this country would have submitted. The appetite of Russia for territorial aggrandisement is so insatiable, and her advances have been pushed so far, that the virtual cession to her of so fair and fertile a country as Turkey, and the entire command of the entrance to the Black Sea, would, very justly, have been deemed an act of culpable cowardice. Setting aside the position of India, and the facilities which the occupation of Turkey would afford for any hostile demonstration upon that part of our dominions, we have now, in consequence of Free Trade, a direct interest in the Danubian Principalities, as so many granaries for our home consumption. Since we ceased to act upon the principle of growing corn for our own population, and made ourselves dependent upon foreign supplies, it would be suicidal to give Russia the power of cutting us short both in the north and on the south—in the Baltic and the Black Seas. Still that was the only other course which Ministers could consistently have adopted, if they wished to avoid or postpone the terrible calamity of a war.

They followed neither the one course nor the other. They did not tell the Czar that, if he persisted in the schemes which he had disclosed to them, he must be prepared to meet Britain in the field; nor did they tell him that, in so far as they were concerned, he might do what he pleased with Turkey. THEY HALTED BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS. In full knowledge of his designs, they allowed him to commit himself—to pick a quarrel with Turkey about some rubbish relating to the keys of the Holy Places—to march his forces across the Pruth—to occupy the Principalities,—to do, in short, the work of one effective campaign. They never intimated to the country that the religious questions,—on which Russia, with scandalous hypocrisy, rested her justification of invasion,—were mere pretexts to mask the avowed intentions of Nicholas. They did not even send a fleet at once to Constantinople, but kept it hovering between Malta and Besika Bay, in the attitude of observation, long after the Russian guns were roaring upon the Danube. Is it fair to suppose that Nicholas,—after having frankly communicated to them his intentions more than a twelvemonth ago; after having told them that the sick gentleman was sure to die immediately; and after having taken measures to secure the fulfilment of that prophecy,—could consider their late hesitating and dilatory movement as otherwise than a convenient sham? It must have appeared to him that if the British Government was determined to oppose his project, they would at once have said so, with the same openness which he manifested in his communications to them. They said nothing of the kind. They gave him fulsome compliments. Of course he went farther, and marched into the sick man’s territory. What did our Ministers then? _They concealed what they knew_, and entered into negotiations about the Russian Protectorate of Christian subjects in Turkey, as if that were the sole point which had occasioned the disturbance! What, under such circumstances, could the Czar conceive, but that they were playing into his hands? He had apprised them, in almost as many words, that he intended to take possession of Turkey, so that they knew perfectly well that the question involved was not one of religion, but of political aggrandisement. It was, however, his policy to make it appear to the uninitiated that religion was his paramount motive; and when the British Cabinet began to negotiate and issue notes upon that footing, he was, after the confidential correspondence which had taken place, fairly entitled to believe that they were not in earnest. The Czar is a remarkably able man—we question whether, politically speaking, he is not the ablest man in Europe—but his own extraordinary position precludes him from understanding the effect of public opinion in such a country as our own. He is accustomed to deal with Cabinets, not with nations or parliaments; and he attributes more power to the former than they possess, at least according to the constitution of Great Britain. The British Cabinet cannot, like that of Prussia or Austria, commit the country to a course which is inconsistent with or derogatory to its honour.

In consequence of this irresolution on the part of our rulers, we are now precipitated into war, and are already beginning to feel some of its inconveniences. Let us now endeavour to ascertain the causes which have led to so very serious a denouement as the disruption of the peace of Europe. It is important that we should do so now, and not leave the question entirely to the future speculation of historians.

During Lord Derby’s short tenure of office, relations of peculiar amity had been established between Britain and France. Lord Malmesbury, than whom no more able or judicious minister ever held the seals of the Foreign Office, saw that the interests of civilisation not only in the west, but throughout the whole of Europe, could only be maintained by a close and permanent co-operation, and mutual good understanding between these two countries; and he addressed himself to the task with equal discretion and success. It is not too much to say that Britain and France never were more cordially united and confidentially allied than during the period we refer to. This, of course, was anything but agreeable to the Czar, whose opportunity lay in a separation of the interests of the two great powers of the West.

The dissolution of Lord Derby’s Government and the accession of the Aberdeen Ministry effected a material alteration. The new Premier, Lord Aberdeen, had been for a great many years on the most intimate footing with the despotic Courts and Cabinets. He had not, it was true, the ability of the Nesselrodes or Metternichs; but he was considered in the highest diplomatic circles as a person who might easily be led, and upon whom a certain show of deference would not be thrown away. It was supposed, also, that he regarded with particular dislike the recent changes in France, and was not favourable to the re-establishment of the Empire under the rule of Napoleon III. This veteran ally of the despotic powers was now associated with men whose former political opinions had differed greatly from his, but who were openmouthed and unscrupulous in their attacks upon the Emperor of the French. We need hardly remind our readers of the highly reprehensible language which was employed by Sir James Graham, and Sir Charles Wood—both of them Cabinet Ministers—in respect to the Emperor Napoleon, or of the foul and scurrilous attacks upon him with which, about the beginning of last year, the columns of the Liberal press abounded. All that is changed now. There is, indeed, plenty of invective and abuse, but it is directed towards another quarter. The French Emperor, formerly pilloried by the Coalitionists, has become the object of their laudation. The Russian Emperor, whom they formerly lauded, is now put into the pillory.

Such being the declared views of the Coalitionists in regard to France, it very naturally occurred to the Czar, that a more favourable opportunity could not possibly arise for detaching Britain from the side of France, and so rendering a future combination between these two powers impracticable. Accordingly, as the published correspondence shows, he did not lose a moment in opening his views to the British envoy at St Petersburg: France, as we have seen, was not to be consulted at all regarding the disposal of Turkey. Provided Britain and Russia were of accord, it mattered nothing what view might be taken by any other European power. France might do as she pleased, but the others would be an overmatch for her. Here are the expressions which the Emperor used on the 21st February:—

“His Imperial Majesty spoke of France. ‘God forbid,’ he said, ‘that I should accuse any one wrongfully, but there are circumstances both at Constantinople and Montenegro which are extremely suspicious; it looks very much as if the French Government were endeavouring to embroil us all in the East, hoping in this way the better to arrive at their own objects, one of which, no doubt, is the possession of Tunis.’

“The Emperor proceeded to say that, for his own part, he cared very little what line the French might think proper to take in Eastern affairs, and that little more than a month ago he had apprised the Sultan that if his assistance was required for resisting the menaces of the French, it was entirely at the service of the Sultan!”

But for the temptation held out by the accession of the Coalition Ministry to power in Great Britain, it is more than improbable that the Czar would have made any overtures of the kind. But at the head of that Ministry he saw Lord Aberdeen, “who knows me so well, who has full confidence in me as I have in him”—the extent of that confidence being marked by the statement, that he was convinced he could bring his lordship to an understanding in the course of ten minutes’ conversation. He had also remarked that at least two members of the Cabinet, in violation both of decency and of their duty as Ministers of the Crown, had been indulging in coarse and unmannerly invective against the Sovereign of France; and, as a matter of course, he arrived at the conclusion that they would be more ready to coalesce with him than to ally themselves cordially with a government which they had spoken of in public in such unexampled terms of contempt. In this calculation, however, he was deceived. Wrong-headed as Lord John Russell is, we do not believe that he would, for one moment, have allowed himself to become a consenting party to such a flagitious transaction as the partition of Turkey; and the same thing may be said of Lord Palmerston, whose exclusion, through short-sighted jealousy, from the Foreign Office at that particular time, we must regard as a national misfortune. But that matters not in the consideration of the point before us. Both circumstance and time concur to show that it was the accession of the Coalition Ministry to power, and the unwarrantable language used by some of its members towards the Emperor of France, that encouraged the Czar to bring forward, and to put into shape, the project which, no doubt, he had long entertained, but which could not be previously pursued for the want of a fitting opportunity.

We regard, therefore, the formation of the Coalition Ministry in Britain as the event which directly led to the original overture—the hopes of the Czar being founded upon the political connections and understood tendencies of Lord Aberdeen, and also on the declared aversion of some of his colleagues to the head of the French Government. But for the formation of that Ministry the designs of Russia upon Turkey would have been postponed.

We have already commented upon the course which was pursued by the Ministry from the time when they were apprized of the designs of the Czar, down to that when the Danubian Principalities were invaded. We have expressed our opinion that a serious remonstrance, coupled with a plain intimation that Great Britain would not permit an occupation of the Turkish territory, would have sufficed during the earlier part of last year, and before any overt step was taken, to have deterred the Czar from proceeding with his project. We ground that view upon the policy which has been invariably pursued by Russia—which is to bully and cajole, not to fight. Let us grant that the possession of Constantinople is the darling project of the Czar—let us grant that, in order to attain it, he would run considerable risk, and submit to extraordinary sacrifices; still we are of opinion that had he been aware, before utterly committing himself, that he would be opposed by the combined forces of Britain and France, he never would have plunged into the contest. See what he risks. First, the annihilation of his fleets, both in the Baltic and in the Black Sea, for he can hardly hope to contend with Britain and France upon the waters. Next, the derangement and stoppage of trade, so vital to the real interests of Russia, and equivalent to a sentence of bankruptcy against many of her nobles and merchants, who depend entirely upon the amount and continuance of their exports. Then there are the chances of insurrection in Poland, and revolt in Finland; and the certainty that Russia, if worsted, will be so dismembered as to prevent her from again disturbing the peace of Europe. These are very serious considerations; and we may be certain that the Czar, great as his appetite undoubtedly is for appropriation, would rather have foregone his purposes upon Turkey, than have proceeded had he believed that the two Western powers would be firm and united in their resistance. Indeed, singular as it may appear, we are about to engage in a war for which no one country in Europe is desirous. Britain, with her eight hundred millions of debt, is by no means desirous to increase the burden of taxation, or to imperil or impede that commerce to which she owes so much of her greatness. In like manner France has no interest to go to war, for she also is heavily burdened, and the present Emperor has nothing so much at heart as to restore the state of the finances. Austria has anything but an interest that war should take place, for in that event, if she takes the side of Russia, there will be immediate insurrection both in Hungary and Lombardy; and if she takes the other side, she must quarrel with a very old partner in iniquity. Prussia has no interest, for the age of subsidies has gone by, and she is likely to suffer to whichever side she adheres; but most especially if she adopts the cause of Russia. Neutral she cannot remain. We need not say that Turkey, the state which is attacked, does not desire war; and we are thoroughly convinced that the Czar, were he not committed so deeply, would be glad to withdraw his pretensions. Now, who suffered him to commit himself so deeply? We answer, the Coalition Ministry.

Had they been of one accord among themselves, nothing of this kind would have happened. If Lord Aberdeen had been sole and supreme master in his Cabinet, it is possible that Russia might have succeeded in acquiring a protectorate over Turkey. The Sultan could hardly have attempted to resist without powerful European aid; and France, had she found Britain lukewarm or indifferent, could not be expected to come forward as the defender of the balance of power without a single ally. No doubt, had this occurred, it would have given Russia a most dangerous preponderance in Europe, and probably necessitated a future struggle; but, in the mean time, there would have been no war. Had the Cabinet been under the guidance of Palmerston or Russell, the first advances of the Emperor, if made at all, would have been met by a distinct and peremptory refusal, and by a threat which would have effectually deterred him from moving a step further. But unfortunately—most unfortunately for us, and for our children, and for the general peace of Europe, this is _not_ a united Cabinet. It is a congregation of men holding totally opposite opinions—bred up in adverse schools—adhering to antagonistical traditions—influenced by jealousy among themselves—and unable, upon any one important point, whether it relates to foreign or domestic policy, to arrive at a common conclusion. Take the case now before us. But for Palmerston and Russell, and their other adherents in the Cabinet, Lord Aberdeen might have established the principle of non-interference between Russia and Turkey—and there would have been no war. But for Lord Aberdeen and his adherents, Palmerston and Russell might have checked the designs and met the overtures of the Czar, by declaring at once that they would not suffer him to send a single soldier across the Pruth, and that if he persisted in his design, they would invite the co-operation of France, and defend Turkey to the uttermost—and in that case also there would have been no war. But the Cabinet was split into two, if not three, parties; and the adoption of a middle course, of feeble dissuasion, unaccompanied by any hint of ulterior consequences, but rather couched in terms of extreme and unworthy subserviency, deceived the Czar, encouraged him to proceed,—and now war is all but declared, and our fleet is riding in the Baltic. We have approached the subject in anything but a party spirit—we have perused the correspondence, recently published, over and over again, in the hope that we might gather from it a justification of the course which the British Ministry has pursued—but we are unable to arrive at any conclusion except this, that but for the formation of the Coalition Cabinet, the ambitious schemes of Russia would not have been developed; and that, but for its continuance and internal divisions, those schemes would have been effectually checked. In plain language, had it not been determined by a secret cabal that Lord Derby’s Government should be overthrown by the most extraordinary combination of parties ever known in this country, there would have been no war; and it is right that the country should know to whom they are indebted for the burdens which are now to be imposed upon us.

We do not object to the principle upon which the war proceeds. We think it full time that the grasping ambition, insidious progress, and inordinate arrogance of Russia should receive a check. It is to us matter of pride and congratulation to know that, in the coming struggle, the colours of Britain and France will be displayed side by side. But we detest war, for its own sake, as fervently as any member of the Peace Society can do, and we are perfectly alive to the awful consequences which it entails. What we wish is, that the public should not misapprehend the real cause of the present rupture of the peace of Europe. That it originally arose from the exorbitant ambition of the Czar, is beyond all question; but ambition can be controlled, and, fortunately, the Czar is not yet master of the universe. Nay, he is not yet master of Europe; for although, by spoliation and absorption, he has secured to himself a vast extent of territory to which he had no patrimonial claim; and although he exercises a great influence over States which, in former times, have acquired accretions by unprincipled subserviency to his house, he has yet to encounter the exerted power and civilisation of the West. Had our Cabinet been united, and true to their trust, that encounter might have been avoided. But it was not so. Some of them were Russian, and some anti-Russian in their views, principles, and antecedents; and so, in consequence of having a Coalition Ministry, which, after being warned of the designs of Russia, egregiously bungled our finance, and left us with a prospect of a deficit, we are to be forced into a war of which no man can foresee the issue.

Let those who shudder at the cost, at least know to whom the cost is due. We are now paying, and are likely to pay for a long time to come, for the privilege of having a Coalition Ministry. But we submit, that the continuance of such a form of government is not desirable. We have shown, in regard to foreign affairs, and from evidence which cannot be gainsayed, what are its results; we could show, if space allowed us, its results upon domestic legislation. But we shall not enter into the lesser topics now. We have, as yet, but touched upon a part of the expediency of coalition; and our deliberate conclusion is, that to the fact of the formation of the Coalition Ministry we must attribute the development of the schemes of Russia, and to its extraordinary vacillation and want of concert the catastrophe of a European war.

_Printed by William Blackwood & Sons, Edinburgh._

-----

Footnote 1:

_Histoire des Marionettes en Europe depuis l’antiquité jusqu’à nos
jours._ Par CHARLES MAGNIN, Member de l’Institut. Paris, 1852.

Footnote 2:

These common Italian marionettes have travelled far. Daniel Clarke
found them in Tartary, all the fashion amongst the Cossacks of the
Don.—_Vide_ his _Travels in Various Countries_, part I.; _Russia,
&c._, p. 233.

Footnote 3:

Casperle is a comic countryman, who replaced Jack Padding on the stage
of the Austrian puppet-shows, and became so popular that the principal
marionette theatre of the Vienna faubourgs received the name of the
Casperle Theatre, and the coin which was the price of a place in the
pit was called a casperle.

Footnote 4:

“You have exactly caught his manner of clearing his throat and
spitting, but as for his genius....”—_Wallenstein’s Lager_, Scene vi.

Footnote 5:

The accomplished and lamented author of La Chartreuse di Parme; Le
Rouge et le Noir; Rome, Naples, et Florence, &c. &c., of whose
complete works a new edition is now appearing at Paris, under the
editorship of his friend, M. Prosper Mérimée.

Footnote 6:

M. Magnin here refers to an engraving at page 47 of the fifth volume
of the _Théatre de la Foire_ (1722) to prove that Punch’s humps, both
in front and rear, were formerly much less prominent. It is easy to
understand how, in the hands of ignorant showmen and manufacturers of
puppets, that which was at first the reflection of a popular metaphor
(of origin difficult to trace) was exaggerated into a senseless and
scarcely ludicrous deformity. _Rire comme un bossu_, to laugh like a
hunchback, is to the present day one of the vulgarest of French
colloquial similes. It is not easy to say whence it arose, or why a
hump between the shoulders should render the bearer more prone to
laughter than his straighter made fellows.

Footnote 7:

Another strange office of the headsman, at least in some parts of
Germany, was to collect the periodical fine or impost levied from
houses of an infamous class. Some striking particulars of his various
opprobrious functions in the Middle Ages, which the peculiar genius of
the German people and their literature has environed with a ghastly
mystery that at times borders on the supernatural, is to be found in a
curious work, entitled _Das Malefiz Buch_, reviewed in Blackwood’s
Magazine for February 1848.

Footnote 8: