Chapter CCCLXXXIX: Section 7 (17)

"With rapid steps the French army advanced towards the heights
whence they hoped to perceive at length the great city of
Moscow; and, if the Russians were filled with the utmost
sadness, the hearts of the French were equally inspired with
feelings of joy and triumph, and the most brilliant illusions.
Reduced from 420,000 (which was its number at the passage of
the Niemen) to 100,000, and utterly exhausted, our army forgot
all its troubles on its approach to the brilliant capital of
Muscovy. … Imagination … was strongly excited within them at
the idea of entering Moscow, after having entered all the
other capitals of Europe with the exception of London,
protected by the sea. Whilst Prince Eugene advanced on the
left of the army, and Prince Poniatowski on its right, the
bulk of the army, with Murat at its head, Davout and Ney in
the centre, and the Guard in the rear, followed the great
Smolensk road. Napoleon was in the midst of his troops, who,
as they gazed upon him and drew near to Moscow, forgot the
days of discontent, and uttered loud shouts in honour of his
glory and their own. The proposal submitted by Miloradovitch
was readily accepted, for the French had no desire to destroy
Moscow, and it was agreed that not a shot should be fired
during the evacuation, on condition that the Russian army
should continue to defile across the city without a moment's
halt. … The Russian rear-guard defiled rapidly to yield the
ground to our advanced guard, and the King of Naples, followed
by his staff and a detachment of cavalry, plunged into the
streets of Moscow, and, traversing by turns the humblest
quarters and the wealthiest, perceived everywhere the most
profound solitude, and seemed to have entered a city of the
dead. … The information which was now obtained—that the whole
population of the city had fled—saddened the exultation of the
commanders of our advanced guard, who had flattered themselves
that they would have had the pleasure of surprising the
inhabitants by their kindness. … On the morning of the 15th
September, Napoleon entered Moscow, at the head of his
invincible legions, but passed through a deserted city, and
his soldiers were now, for the first time on entering a
capital, the sole witnesses of their own glory. Their feelings
on the occasion were sad ones. As soon as Napoleon had reached
the Kremlin, he hastened to ascend the lofty tower of the
great Ivan, and to survey from its elevation the magnificent
city he had conquered. … A sullen silence, broken only by the
tramp of the cavalry, had replaced that populous life which
during the very previous evening had rendered the city one of
the most animated in the world. The army was distributed
through the various quarters of Moscow, Prince Eugene
occupying the northwest quarter, Marshal Davout the southwest,
and Prince Poniatowski the southeast. Marshal Ney, who had
traversed Moscow from west to east, established his troops in
the district comprised between the Riazan and Wladimir roads;
and the Guard was naturally posted at the Kremlin and in its
environs. The houses were full of provisions of every kind,
and the first necessities of the troops were readily
satisfied. The Superior officers were received at the gates of
palaces by numerous servants in livery, eager in offering a
brilliant hospitality; for the owners of these palaces,
perfectly unaware that Moscow was about to perish, had taken
great pains, although they fully shared the national hatred
against the French, to procure protectors for their rich
dwellings by receiving into them French officers. … From their
splendid lodgings, the officers of the French army wandered
with equal delight through the midst of the city, which
resembled a Tartar camp sown with Italian palaces. They
contemplated with wonder the numerous towns of which the
capital is composed, and which are placed in concentric
circles, the one within the other. … A few days before, Moscow
had contained a population of 300,000 souls, of whom scarcely
a sixth part now remained, and of these the greater number
were concealed in their houses or prostrated at the foot of
the altars. The streets were deserts, and only echoed with the
footsteps of our soldiers. … But although the solitude of the
city was a source of great vexation to them, they had no
suspicion of any approaching catastrophe, for the Russian
army, which alone had hitherto devastated their country, had
departed, and there appeared to be no fear of fire. The French
army hoped, therefore, to enjoy comfort in Moscow, to obtain,
probably, peace by means of its possession, and at least good
winter-cantonments in case the war should be prolonged. But,
on the afternoon they had entered, columns of flame arose from
a vast building containing … quantities of spirits, and just
as our soldiers had almost succeeded in mastering the fire in
this spot, a violent conflagration suddenly burst forth in a
collection of buildings called the Bazaar, situated to the
northeast of the Kremlin, and containing the richest
magazines, abounding in stores of the exquisite tissues of
India and Persia, the rarities of Europe, colonial produce,
and precious wines. The troops of the Guard immediately
hastened up and attempted to subdue the flames; but their
energetic efforts were unfortunately unsuccessful, and the
immense riches of the establishment fell a prey to the fire,
with the exception of some portions which our men were able to
snatch from the devouring element.
{2771}
This fresh accident was again attributed to natural causes,
and considered as easily explicable in the tumult of an
evacuation. During the night of the 15th of September,
however, a sudden change came over the scene; for then as
though every species of misfortune were to fall at the same
moment on the ancient Muscovite capital, the equinoctial gales
suddenly arose with the extreme violence usual to the season
and in countries where widespread plains offer no resistance
to the storm. This wind, blowing first from the east, carried
the fire to the west into the streets comprised between the
Iwer and Smolensk routes, which were the most beautiful and
the richest in all Moscow. Within some hours the fire,
spreading with frightful rapidity, and throwing out long
arrows of flame, spread to the other westward quarters. And
soon rockets were observed in the air, and wretches were
seized in the act of spreading the conflagration. Interrogated
under threat of instant death, they revealed the frightful
secret,—the order given by Count Rostopschin for the burning
of the city of Moscow as though it had been a simple village
on the Moscow route. This information filled the whole army
with consternation. Napoleon ordered that military commissions
should be formed in each quarter of the city for the purpose
of judging, shooting, and hanging incendiaries taken in the
act, and that all the available troops should be employed in
extinguishing the flames. Immediate recourse was had to the
pumps, but it was found they had been removed; and this latter
circumstance would have proved, if indeed any doubt on the
matter had remained, the terrible determination with which
Moscow had been given to the flames. In the mean time, the
wind, increasing in violence every moment, rendered the
efforts of the whole army ineffectual, and, suddenly changing,
with the abruptness peculiar to equinoctial gales, from the
east to the northwest, it carried the torrent of flame into
quarters which the hands of the incendiaries had not yet been
able to fire. After having blown during some hours from the
northwest, the wind once more changed its direction, and blew
from the southwest, as though it had a cruel pleasure in
spreading ruin and death over the unhappy city, or, rather,
over our army. By this change of the wind to the southwest the
Kremlin was placed in extreme peril. More than 400 ammunition
wagons were in the court of the Kremlin, and the arsenal
contained some 400,000 pounds of powder. There was imminent
danger, therefore, that Napoleon with his Guard, and the
palace of the Czars, might be blown up into the air. …
Napoleon, therefore, followed by some of his lieutenants,
descended from the Kremlin to the quay of the Moskowa, where
he found his horses ready for him, and had much difficulty in
threading the streets, which, towards the northwest (in which
direction he proceeded), were already in flames. The terrified
army set out from Moscow. The divisions of Prince Eugene and
Marshal Ney fell back upon the Zwenigarod and St. Petersburg
roads, those of Marshal Davout fell back upon the Smolensk
route, and, with the exception of the Guard, which was left
around the Kremlin to dispute its possession with the flames,
our troops drew back in horror from before the fire, which,
after flaming up to heaven, darted back towards them as though
it wished to devour them. The few inhabitants who had remained
in Moscow, and had hitherto lain concealed in their dwellings,
now fled, carrying away such of their possessions as they
valued most highly, uttering lamentable cries of distress,
and, in many instances, falling victims to the brigands whom
Rostopochin had let loose, and who now exulted in the midst of
the conflagration, as the genius of evil in the midst of
chaos. Napoleon took up his quarters at the Château of
Petrowskoié, a league's distance from Moscow on the St.
Petersburg route, in the centre of the cantonments of the
troops under Prince Eugene, awaiting there the subsidence of
the conflagration, which had now reached such a height that it
was beyond human power either to increase or extinguish it. As
a final misfortune the wind changed on the following day from
southwest to direct west, and then the torrents of flame were
carried towards the eastern quarters of the city, the streets
Messnitskaia and Bassmanaia, and the summer palace. As the
conflagration reached its terrible height, frightful crashes
were heard every moment,—roofs crushing inward, and stately
façades crumbling headlong into the streets as their supports
became consumed in the flames. The sky was scarcely visible
through the thick cloud of smoke which overshadowed it, and
the sun was only apparent as a blood-red globe. For three
successive days—the 16th, the 17th, and the 18th of
September—this terrific scene continued, and in unabated
intensity. At length, after having devoured four-fifths of the
city, the fire ceased, gradually quenched by the rain, which,
as is usually the case, succeeded the violence of the
equinoctial gales. As the flames subsided, only the spectre,
as it were, of what had once been a magnificent city was
visible; and, indeed, the Kremlin, and about a fifth part of
the city, were alone saved,—their preservation being chiefly
due to the exertions of the Imperial Guard. As the inhabitants
of Moscow themselves entered the ruins, seeking what property
still remained in them undestroyed, it was scarcely possible
to prevent our soldiers from acting in the same manner. … Of
this horrible scene the chiefest horror of all remains to be
told: the Russians had left 15,000 wounded in Moscow, and,
incapable of escaping, they had perished, victims of
Rostopschin's barbarous patriotism."

_A. Thiers,
History of the] Consulate and the Empire,
book 44 (volume 4)._

ALSO IN:
_General Count M. Dumas,
Memoirs,
chapter 15 (volume 2)._

_J. Philippart,
Northern Campaigns, 1812-1813,
volume 1, pages 81-115._

RUSSIA: A. D. 1812 (October-December).
The retreat from Moscow.
Its horrors.

"Napoleon waited in vain for propositions from the Czar; his
own were scornfully rejected. Meanwhile the Russians were
reorganizing their armies, and winter set in. On the 13th of
October, the first frost gave warning that it was time to
think of the retreat, which the enemy, already on the French
flank, was threatening to cut off. Leaving Mortier with 10,000
men in the Kremlin, the army quitted Moscow on the 19th of
October, thirty-five days after it had entered the city. It
still numbered 80,000 fighting men and 600 cannons, but was
encumbered with camp-followers and vehicles. At
Malo-Jaroslavetz a violent struggle took place on the 24th.
The town was captured and recaptured seven times. It was
finally left in the hands of the French. Here, however, the
route changed.
{2772}
The road became increasingly difficult, the cold grew intense,
the ground was covered with snow, and the confusion in the
quartermaster's department was terrible. When the army reached
Smolensk, there were only 50,000 men in the ranks (November
9). Napoleon had taken minute precautions to provide supplies
and reinforcements all along his line of retreat; but the
heedlessness of his subalterns, and the difficulty of being
obeyed at such distances and in such a country, rendered his
foresight useless. At Smolensk, where he hoped to find
provisions and supplies, everything had been squandered.
Meanwhile there was not a moment to lose; Wittgenstein, with
the army of the North, was coming up on the French right.
Tchitchagof was occupying Minsk behind the Beresina, with the
army which had just come from the banks of the Danube. Kutusof
was near at hand. The three Russian armies proposed to unite
and bar the Beresina, which the French were obliged to cross.
The French began their march, but the cold became suddenly
intense; all verdure had disappeared, and there being no food
for the horses, they died by the thousand. The cavalry was
forced to dismount; it became necessary to destroy or abandon
a large portion of the cannon and ammunition. The enemy
surrounded the French columns with a cloud of Cossacks, who
captured all stragglers. On the following days the temperature
moderated. Then arose another obstacle,—the mud, which
prevented the advance; and the famine was constant. Moreover,
the retreat was one continuous battle. Ney, 'the bravest of
the brave,' accomplished prodigies of valor. At Krasnoi the
Emperor himself was obliged to charge at the head of his
guard. When the Beresina was reached, the army was reduced to
40,000 fighting men, of whom one-third were Poles. The
Russians had burned the bridge of Borisof, and Tchitchagof, on
the other shore, barred the passage. Fortunately a ford was
found. The river was filled with enormous blocks of ice;
General Eblé and his pontoniers, plunged in the water up to
their shoulders, built and rebuilt bridges across it. Almost
all the pontoniers perished of cold or were drowned. Then,
while on the right of the river Ney and Oudinot held back the
army of Tchitchagof, and Victor on the left that of
Wittgenstein, the guard, with Napoleon, passed over. Victor,
after having killed or wounded 10,000 of Wittgenstein's
Russians, passed over during the night. When, in the morning,
the rear-guard began to cross the bridges, a crowd of
fugitives rushed upon them. They were soon filled with a
confused mass of cavalry, infantry, caissons, and fugitives.
The Russians came up and poured a shower of shells upon the
helpless crowd. This frightful scene has ever since been
famous as the passage of the Beresina. The governor of Minsk
had 24,000 dead bodies picked up and burned. Napoleon
conducted the retreat towards Wilna, where the French had
large magazines. At Smorgoni he left the army, to repair in
all haste to Paris, in order to prevent the disastrous effects
of the last events, and to form another army. The army which
he had left struggled on under Murat. The cold grew still more
intense, and 20,000 men perished in three days. Ney held the
enemy a long time in check with desperate valor; be was the
last to recross the Niemen (December 20). There the retreat
ended, and with it this fatal campaign. Beyond that river the
French left 300,000 soldiers, either dead or in captivity."

_Victor Duruy,
History of France,
chapter 66._

"Thousands of horses soon lay groaning on the route, with
great pieces of flesh cut off their necks and most fleshy
parts by the passing soldiery for food; whilst thousands of
naked wretches were wandering like spectres, who seemed to
have no sight or sense, and who only kept reeling on till
frost, famine, or the Cossack lance put an end to their power
of motion. In that wretched state no nourishment could have
saved them. There were continual instances, even amongst the
Russians, of their lying down, dozing, and dying within a
quarter of an hour after a little bread had been supplied. All
prisoners, however, were immediately and invariably stripped
stark naked and marched in columns in that state, or turned
adrift to be the sport and the victims of the peasantry, who
would not always let them, as they sought to do, point and
hold the muzzles of the guns against their own heads or hearts
to terminate their suffering in the most certain and
expeditious manner; for the peasantry thought that this
mitigation of torture 'would be an offence against the
avenging God of Russia, and deprive them of his further
protection.' A remarkable instance of this cruel spirit of
retaliation was exhibited on the pursuit to Wiazma.
Milaradowitch, Beningsen, Korf, and the English General, with
various others, were proceeding on the high-road, about a mile
from the town, where they found a crowd of peasant-women, with
sticks in their hands, hopping round a felled pine-tree, on
each side of which lay about sixty naked prisoners, prostrate,
but with their heads on the tree, which those furies were
striking in accompaniment to a national air or song which they
were yelling in concert; while several hundred armed peasants
were quietly looking on as guardians of the direful orgies.
When the cavalcade approached, the sufferers uttered piercing
shrieks, and kept incessantly crying 'La mort, la mort, la
mort!' Near Dorogobouche a young and handsome Frenchwoman lay
naked, writhing in the snow, which was ensanguined all around
her. On hearing the sound of voices she raised her head, from
which extremely long black, shining hair flowed over the whole
person. Tossing her arms about with wildest expression of
agony, she kept frantically crying, 'Rendez moi mon
enfant'—Restore me my babe. When soothed sufficiently to
explain her story, she related, 'That on sinking from
weakness, a child newly born had been snatched away from her;
that she had been stripped by her associates, and then stabbed
to prevent her falling alive into the hands of their
pursuers.' … The slaughter of the prisoners with every
imaginable previous mode of torture by the peasantry still
continuing, the English General sent off a despatch to the
Emperor Alexander' to represent the horrors of these outrages
and propose a check.' The Emperor by an express courier
instantly transmitted an order 'to prohibit the parties under
the severest menaces of his displeasure and punishment;' at
the same time he directed 'a ducat in gold to be paid for any
prisoner delivered up by peasant or soldier to any civil
authority for safe custody.' The order was beneficial as well
as creditable, but still the conductors were offered a higher
price for their charge, and frequently were prevailed on to
surrender their trust, for they doubted the justifiable
validity of the order.
{2773}
Famine also ruthlessly decimated the enemy's ranks. Groups
were frequently overtaken, gathered round the burning or burnt
embers of buildings which had afforded cover for some wounded
or frozen; many in these groups were employed in peeling off
with their fingers and making a repast of the charred flesh of
their comrades' remains. The English General having asked a
grenadier of most martial expression, so occupied, 'if this
food was not loathsome to him?' 'Yes,' he said, 'it was; but
he did not eat it to preserve life—that he had sought in vain
to lose—only to lull gnawing agonies.' On giving the grenadier
a piece of food, which happened to be at command, he seized it
with voracity, as if he would devour it whole; but suddenly
checking himself, he appeared suffocating with emotion:
looking at the bread, then at the donor, tears rolled down his
cheeks; endeavouring to rise, and making an effort as if he
would catch at the hand which administered to his want, he
fell back and had expired before he could be reached.
Innumerable dogs crouched on the bodies of their former
masters, looking in their faces, and howling their hunger and
their loss; whilst others were tearing the still living flesh
from the feet, hands, and limbs of moaning wretches who could
not defend themselves, and whose torment was still greater, as
in many cases their consciousness and senses remained
unimpaired. The clinging of the dogs to their masters' corpses
was most remarkable and interesting. At the commencement of
the retreat, at a village near Selino, a detachment of fifty
of the enemy had been surprised. The peasants resolved to bury
them alive in a pit: a drummer boy bravely led the devoted
party and sprang into the grave. A dog belonging to one of the
victims could not be secured; every day, however, the dog went
to the neighbouring camp, and came back with a bit of food in
his mouth to sit and moan over the newly-turned earth. It was
a fortnight before he could be killed by the peasants, afraid
of discovery. The peasants showed the English General the spot
and related the occurrence with exultation, as if they had
performed a meritorious deed. The shots of the peasantry at
stragglers or prisoners rang continuously through the woods;
and altogether it was a complication of misery, of cruelty, of
desolation, and of disorder, that can never have been exceeded
in the history of mankind. Many incidents and crimes are
indeed too horrible or disgusting for relation."

_General Sir R. Wilson,
Narrative of Events during the Invasion of Russia,
pages 255-261._

_General Sir R. Wilson,
Private Journal,
volume 1, page 202-257._

When Napoleon abandoned the army, at Smorghoni, on the 6th of
December, the King of Naples was left in command. "They
marched with so much disorder and precipitation that it was
only when they arrived at Wilna that the soldiers were
informed of a departure as discouraging as it was unexpected.
'What!' said they among themselves, 'is it thus that he
abandons those of whom he calls himself the father? Where then
is that genius, who, in the height of prosperity, exhorted us
to bear our sufferings patiently? He who lavished our blood,
is he afraid to die with us? Will he treat us like the army of
Egypt, to whom, after having served him faithfully, he became
indifferent, when, by a shameful flight, he found himself free
from danger?' Such was the conversation of the soldiers, which
they accompanied by the most violent execrations. Never was
indignation more just, for never were a class of men so worthy
of pity. The presence of the emperor had kept the chiefs to
their duty, but when they heard of his departure, the greater
part of them followed his example, and shamefully abandoned
the remains of the regiments with which they had been
intrusted. … The road which we followed presented, at every
step, brave officers, covered with rags, supported by branches
of pine, their hair and beards stiffened by the ice. These
warriors, who, a short time before, were the terror of our
enemies, and the conquerors of Europe, having now lost their
fine appearance, crawled slowly along, and could scarcely
obtain a look of pity from the soldiers whom they had formerly
commanded. Their situation became still more dreadful, because
all who had not strength to march were abandoned, and every
one who was abandoned by his comrades, in an hour afterwards
inevitably perished. The next day every bivouac presented the
image of a field of battle. … The soldiers burnt whole houses
to avoid being frozen. We saw round the fires the
half-consumed bodies of many unfortunate men, who, having
advanced too near, in order to warm themselves, and being too
weak to recede, had become a prey to the flames. Some
miserable beings, blackened with smoke, and besmeared with the
blood of the horses which they had devoured, wandered like
ghosts round the burning houses. They gazed on the dead bodies
of their companions, and, too feeble to support themselves,
fell down, and died like them. … The route was covered with
soldiers who no longer retained the human form, and whom the
enemy disdained to make prisoners. Every day these miserable
men made us witnesses of scenes too dreadful to relate. Some
had lost their hearing, others their speech, and many, by
excessive cold and hunger, were reduced to a state of frantic
stupidity, in which they roasted the dead bodies of their
comrades for food, or even gnawed their own hands and arms.
Some were so weak that, unable to lift a piece of wood, or
roll a stone towards the fires which they had kindled, they
sat upon the dead bodies of their comrades, and, with a
haggard countenance, steadfastly gazed upon the burning coals.
No sooner was the fire extinguished, than these living
spectres, unable to rise, fell by the side of those on whom
they had sat. We saw many who were absolutely insane. To warm
their frozen feet, they plunged them naked into the middle of
the fire. Some, with a convulsive laugh, threw themselves into
the flames, and perished in the most horrid convulsions, and
uttering the most piercing cries; while others, equally
insane, immediately followed them, and experienced the same
fate."

_E. Labaume,
Circumstantial Narrative of the Campaign in Russia,
part 2, book 5._

ALSO IN:
_Count P. de Segur,
History of the Expedition to Russia,
books 9-12 (volume 2)._

_C. Joyneville,
Life and Times of Alexander I.,
volume 2, chapter 5._

_Earl Stanhope,
The French Retreat from Moscow
(Historical Essays;
and, also,
Quarterly Review., October 1867, volume 123)._

_Baron de Marbot,
Memoirs, volume 2, chapters 28-32._

RUSSIA: A. D. 1812-1813.
Treaty of Kalisch with Prussia.
The War of Liberation in Germany.
Alliance of Austria.
The driving of the French beyond the Rhine.

See GERMANY: A. D. 1812-1813, to 1814.

{2774}

RUSSIA: A. D. 1814 (January-April).
The Allies in France and in possession of Paris.
Fall of Napoleon.

See FRANCE: A. D. 1814 (JANUARY-MARCH), and (MARCH-APRIL).

RUSSIA: A. D. 1814 (May).
The Treaty of Paris.
Evacuation of France.

See FRANCE: A. D. 1814 (APRIL-JUNE).

RUSSIA: A. D. 1814-1815.
The Congress of Vienna.
Acquisitions in Poland.
Surrender of Eastern Galicia.

See VIENNA, THE CONGRESS OF.

RUSSIA: A. D. 1815.
Napoleon's return from Elba.
The Quadruple Alliance.
The Waterloo campaign and its results.

See FRANCE: A. D. 1814-1815, to 1815 (JUNE-AUGUST).

RUSSIA: A. D. 1815.
The Allies again in France.
Second Treaty of Paris.

See FRANCE: A. D. 1815 (JULY-NOVEMBER).

RUSSIA: A. D. 1815.
The Holy Alliance.

See HOLY ALLIANCE.

RUSSIA: A. D. 1817.
Expulsion of Jesuits.

See JESUITS: A. D. 1769-1871.

RUSSIA: A. D. 1820-1822.
The Congresses of Troppau, Laybach and Verona.

See VERONA, THE CONGRESS OF.

RUSSIA: A. D. 1825.
Accession of Nicholas.

RUSSIA: A. D. 1827-1829.
Intervention on behalf of Greece.
Battle of Navarino.

See GREECE: A. D. 1821-1829.

RUSSIA: A. D. 1830-1832.
Polish revolt and its suppression.
Barbarous treatment of the insurgents.

See POLAND: A. D. 1830-1832.

RUSSIA: A. D. 1831-1846.
Joint occupation of Cracow.
Extinction of the republic.
Its annexation to Austria.

See AUSTRIA: A. D. 1815-1846.

RUSSIA: A. D. 1833-1840.
The Turko-Egyptian question and its settlement.

See TURKS: A. D. 1831-1840.

RUSSIA: A. D. 1839-1859.
Subjugation of the Caucasus.

See CAUCASUS.

RUSSIA: A. D. 1849.
Aid rendered to Austria against the Hungarian patriots.

See AUSTRIA: A. D. 1848-1849.

RUSSIA: A. D. 1853-1854.
Causes of the Crimean War with Turkey, England and France.

"The immediate cause of the war which broke out in 1853 was a
dispute which had arisen between France and Russia upon the
custody of the Holy Places in Jerusalem. The real cause was
the intention of Russia to hasten the dismemberment of the
Turkish Empire. Nicholas, in a memorable conversation,
actually suggested to the British ambassador at St. Petersburg
that England should receive Egypt and Crete as her own portion
of the spoil. This conversation, which took place in January
1853, was at once reported to the British Government. It
undoubtedly prepared the way for future trouble. … It had the
effect of rendering the British Ministry suspicious of his
intentions, at a moment when a good understanding with this
country was of the first importance to the Czar of Russia.
There can, then, be very little doubt that Nicholas committed
a grave error in suggesting a partition, which may have seemed
reasonable enough to Continental statesmen, but which was
regarded with horror by England. Almost at the same moment he
affronted France by declining to call Napoleon 'Monsieur mon
frère.' … Nicholas had the singular indiscretion to render a
British ministry suspicious of him, and a French emperor angry
with him, in the same month. Napoleon could easily avenge the
affront. … The Greek and Latin Churches both claimed the right
of protecting the Holy Places of Palestine. Both appealed to a
Mahometan arrangement in support of their claim: each declined
to admit the pretensions of the other. The Latin Church in
Palestine was under the protection of France; the Greek Church
was under the protection of Russia; and France and Russia had
constantly supported, one against the other, these rival
claims. In the beginning of 1853 France renewed the
controversy. She even threatened to settle the question by
force. The man whom Nicholas would not call 'mon frère' was
stirring a controversy thick with trouble for the Czar of
Russia. It happened, moreover, that the controversy was one
which, from its very nature, was certain to spread. Nearly
eighty years before, by the Treaty of Kainardji, the Porte had
undertaken to afford a constant protection to its Christian
subjects, and to place a new Greek Church at Constantinople,
which it undertook to erect, 'and the ministers who officiated
at it under the specific protection of the Russian Empire.'
The exact meaning of this famous article had always been
disputed. In Western Europe it had been usually held that it
applied only to the new Greek Church at Constantinople, and
the ministers who officiated at it. But Russian statesmen had
always contended that its meaning was much wider; and British
statesmen of repute had supported the contention. The general
undertaking which the Porte had given to Russia to afford a
constant protection to its Christian subjects gave Russia —so
they argued—the right to interfere when such protection was
not afforded. In such a country as Turkey, where chronic
misgovernment prevailed, opportunity was never wanting for
complaining that the Christians were inadequately protected.
The dispute about the Holy Places was soon superseded by a
general demand of Russia for the adequate protection of the
Christian subjects of the Porte; In the summer of 1853 the
demand took the shape of an ultimatum; and, when the Turkish
ministers declined to comply with the Russian demand, a
Russian army crossed the Pruth and occupied the
Principalities. In six months a miserable quarrel about the
custody of the Holy Places had assumed dimensions which were
clearly threatening war. At the advice of England the Porte
abstained from treating the occupation of the Principalities
as an act of war; and diplomacy consequently secured an
interval for arranging peace. The Austrian Government framed a
note, which is known as the Vienna Note, as a basis of a
settlement. England and the neutral powers assented to the
note; Russia accepted it; and it was then presented to the
Porte. But Turkey, with the obstinacy which has always
characterised its statesmen, declined to accept it. War might
even then have been prevented if the British Government had
boldly insisted on its acceptance, and had told Turkey that if
she modified the conditions she need not count on England's
assistance. One of the leading members of Lord Aberdeen's
Ministry wished to do this, and declared to the last hour of
his life that this course should have been taken.
{2775}
But the course was not taken. Turkey was permitted, or,
according to Baron Stockmar, encouraged to modify the Vienna
Note; the modifications were rejected by Russia; and the
Porte, on the 26th of September, delivered an ultimatum, and
on the 4th of October 1853 declared war. These events excited
a very widespread indignation in this country. The people,
indeed, were only imperfectly acquainted with the causes which
had produced the quarrel; many of them were unaware that the
complication had been originally introduced by the act of
France; others of them failed to reflect that the refusal of
the Porte to accept a note which the four Great Powers—of
which England was one—had agreed upon was the immediate cause
of hostilities. Those who were better informed thought that
the note was a mistake, and that the Turk had exercised a wise
discretion in rejecting it; while the whole nation
instinctively felt that Russia, throughout the negotiations,
had acted with unnecessary harshness. In October 1853,
therefore, the country was almost unanimously in favour of
supporting the Turk. The events of the next few weeks turned
this feeling into enthusiasm. The Turkish army, under Omar
Pasha, proved its mettle by winning one or two victories over
the Russian troops. The Turkish fleet at Sinope was suddenly
attacked and destroyed. Its destruction was, undoubtedly, an
act of war: it was distorted into an act of treachery; a
rupture between England and Russia became thenceforward
inevitable; and in March 1854 England and France declared
war."

_S. Walpole,
Foreign Relations,
chapter 3._

ALSO IN:
_A. W. Kinglake,
The Invasion of the Crimea,
volume l._

_J. Morley,
Life of Richard Cobden,
volume 2, chapter 6._

RUSSIA: A. D. 1854 (September).
The Crimean War: Landing of the Allies.
Battle of the Alma.
Sufferings of the invading army.

"England, then, and France entered the war as allies. Lord
Raglan, formerly Lord Fitzroy Somerset, an old pupil of the
Great Duke in the Peninsular War, and who had lost his right
arm serving under Wellington at Waterloo, was appointed to
command the English forces. Marshal St. Arnaud, a bold,
brilliant soldier of fortune, was intrusted by the Emperor of
the French with the leadership of the soldiers of France. The
allied forces went out to the East and assembled at Varna, on
the Black Sea shore, from which they were to make their
descent on the Crimea. The war, meantime, had gone badly for
the Emperor of Russia in his attempt to crush the Turks. The
Turks had found in Omar Pasha a commander of remarkable
ability and energy; and they had in one or two instances
received the unexpected aid and counsel of clever and
successful Englishmen. … The invasion of the Danubian
provinces was already, to all intents, a failure. Mr. Kinglake
and other writers have argued that but for the ambition of the
Emperor of the French and the excited temper of the English
people the war might well have ended then and there. The
Emperor of Russia had found, it is contended, that he could
not maintain an invasion of European Turkey; his fleet was
confined to its ports in the Black Sea, and there was nothing
for him but to make peace. But we confess we do not see with
what propriety or wisdom the allies, having entered on the
enterprise at all, could have abandoned it at such a moment,
and allowed the Czar to escape thus merely scotched. … The
allies went on. They sailed from Varna for the Crimea. … There
is much discussion as to the original author of the project
for the invasion of the Crimea. The Emperor Napoleon has had
it ascribed to him; so has Lord Palmerston; so has the Duke of
Newcastle; so, according to Mr. Kinglake, has the 'Times'
newspaper. It does not much concern us to know in whom the
idea originated, but it is of some importance to know that it
was essentially a civilian's and not a soldier's idea. It took
possession almost simultaneously, as far as we can observe, of
the minds of several statesmen, and it had a sudden
fascination for the public. The Emperor Nicholas had raised
and sheltered his Black Sea fleet at Sebastopol. That fleet
had sallied forth from Sebastopol to commit what was called
the massacre of Sinope. Sebastopol was the great arsenal of
Russia. It was the point from which Turkey was threatened;
from which, it was universally believed, the embodied ambition
of Russia was one day to make its most formidable effort of
aggression. Within the fence of its vast sea-forts the fleet
of the Black Sea lay screened. From the moment when the
vessels of England and France entered the Euxine the Russian
fleet had withdrawn behind the curtain of these defences, and
was seen upon the open waves no more. If, therefore,
Sebastopol could be taken or destroyed, it would seem as if
the whole material fabric, put together at such cost and labor
for the execution of the schemes of Russia, would be shattered
at a blow. … The invasion of the Crimea, however, was not a
soldier's project. It was not welcomed by the English or the
French commander. It was undertaken by Lord Raglan out of
deference to the recommendations of the Government; and by
Marshal St. Arnaud out of deference to the Emperor of the
French, and because Lord Raglan, too, did not see his way to
decline the responsibility of it. The allied forces were,
therefore, conveyed to the south-western shore of the Crimea,
and effected a landing in Kalamita Bay, a short distance north
of the point at which the river Alma runs into the sea.
Sebastopol itself lies about 30 miles to the south; and then,
more southward still, divided by the bulk of a jutting
promontory from Sebastopol, is the harbor of Balaklava. The
disembarkation began on the morning of September 14th, 1854.
It was completed on the fifth day; and there were then some
27,000 English, 30,000 French, and 7,000 Turks landed on the
shores of Catherine the Great's Crimea. The landing was
effected without any opposition from the Russians. On
September 19th, the allies marched out of their encampments
and moved southward in the direction of Sebastopol. They had a
skirmish or two with a reconnoitring force of Russian cavalry
and Cossacks; but they had no business of genuine war until
they reached the nearer bank of the Alma. The Russians, in
great strength, had taken up a splendid position on the
heights that fringed the other side of the river. The allied
forces reached the Alma about noon on September 20th. They
found that they had to cross the river in the face of the
Russian batteries armed with heavy guns on the highest point
of the hills or bluffs, of scattered artillery, and of dense
masses of infantry which covered the hills. The Russians were
under the command of Prince Mentschikoff.
{2776}
It is certain that Prince Mentschikoff believed his position
unassailable, and was convinced that his enemies were
delivered into his hands when he saw the allies approach and
attempt to effect the crossing of the river. … The attack was
made with desperate courage on the part of the allies, but
without any great skill of leadership or tenacity of
discipline. It was rather a pell-mell sort of fight, in which
the headlong courage and the indomitable obstinacy of the
English and French troops carried all before them at last. A
study of the battle is of little profit to the ordinary
reader. It was an heroic scramble. There was little coherence
of action between the allied forces. But there was happily an
almost total absence of generalship on the part of the
Russians. The soldiers of the Czar fought stoutly and
stubbornly, as they have always done; but they could not stand
up against the blended vehemence and obstinacy of the English
and French. The river was crossed, the opposite heights were
mounted, Prince Mentschikoff's great redoubt was carried, the
Russians were driven from the field, the allies occupied their
ground; the victory was to the Western Powers. … The Russians
ought to have been pursued. They themselves fully expected a
pursuit. They retreated in something like utter confusion. …
But there was no pursuit. Lord Raglan was eager to follow up
the victory; but the French had as yet hardly any cavalry, and
Marshal St. Arnaud would not agree to any further enterprise
that day. Lord Raglan believed that he ought not to persist;
and nothing was done. … Except for the bravery of those who
fought, the battle was not much to boast of. … At this
distance of time it is almost touching to read some of the
heroic contemporaneous descriptions of the great scramble of
the Alma. … Very soon, however, a different note came to be
sounded. The campaign had been opened under conditions
differing from those of most campaigns that went before it.
Science had added many new discoveries to the art of war.
Literature had added one remarkable contribution of her own to
the conditions amidst which campaigns were to be carried on.
She had added the 'special correspondent.' … When the
expedition was leaving England it was accompanied by a special
correspondent from each of the great daily papers of London.
The 'Times' sent out a representative whose name almost
immediately became celebrated—Mr. William Howard Russell, the
'preux chevalier' of war correspondents in that day, as Mr.
Archibald Forbes of the 'Daily News' is in this. … Mr. Russell
soon saw that there was confusion; and he had the soundness of
judgment to know that the confusion was that of a
breaking-down system. Therefore, while the fervor of delight
in the courage and success of our army was still fresh in the
minds of the public at home, while every music-hall was
ringing with the cheap rewards of valor, in the shape of
popular glorifications of our commanders and our soldiers, the
readers of the 'Times' began to learn that things were faring
badly indeed with the conquering army of the Alma. The ranks
were thinned by the ravages of cholera. The men were pursued
by cholera to the very battle-field, Lord Raglan himself said.
… The hospitals were in a wretchedly disorganized condition.
Stores of medicines and strengthening food were decaying in
places where no one wanted them or could well get at them,
while men were dying in hundreds among our tents in the Crimea
for lack of them. The system of clothing, of transport, of
feeding, of nursing—everything had broken down. Ample
provisions had been got together and paid for; and when they
came to be needed no one knew where to get at them. The
special correspondent of the 'Times' and other correspondents
continued to din these things into the ears of the public at
home. Exultation began to give way to a feeling of dismay. The
patriotic anger against the Russians was changed for a mood of
deep indignation against our own authorities and our own war
administration. It soon became apparent to everyone that the
whole campaign had been planned on the assumption that it was
to be like the career of the hero whom Byron laments, 'brief,
brave, and glorious.' Our military authorities here at home—we
do not speak of the commanders in the field—had made up their
minds that Sebastopol was to fall, like another Jericho, at
the sound of the war-trumpets' blast. Our commanders in the
field were, on the contrary, rather disposed to overrate than
to underrate the strength of the Russians. … It is very likely
that if a sudden dash had been made at Sebastopol by land and
sea, it might have been taken almost at the very opening of
the war. But the delay gave the Russians full warning, and
they did not neglect it. On the third day after the battle of
the Alma the Russians sank seven vessels of their Black Sea
fleet at the entrance of the harbor of Sebastopol. This was
done full in the sight of the allied fleets, who at first,
misunderstanding the movements going on among the enemy,
thought the Russian squadron were about to come out from their
shelter and try conclusions with the Western ships. But the
real purpose of the Russians became soon apparent. Under the
eyes of the allies the seven vessels slowly settled down and
sank in the water, until at last only the tops of their masts
were to be seen; and the entrance of the harbor was barred as
by sunken rocks against any approach of an enemy's ship. There
was an end to every dream of a sudden capture of Sebastopol."

_J. McCarthy,
History of Our Own Times,
chapter 27 (volume 2)._

ALSO IN:
_General Sir E. Hamley,
The War in the Crimea,
chapters 2-3._

_W. H. Russell,
The British Expedition to the Crimea,
books 1-2._

RUSSIA: A. D. 1854 (September-October).
Opening of the siege of Sebastopol.

Four days after the battle of the Alma the allies reached the
Belbek, so close to Sebastopol that "it became a matter of
necessity to decide upon their next step. It appears to have
been the wish of the English at once to take advantage of
their victory and assault the north side. It is now known that
such a step would almost certainly have been successful. … But
again St. Arnaud offered objections." It was then determined
"to undertake a flank march round the head of the harbour, and
to take possession of the heights on the south. It was a
difficult operation, for the country was unknown and rough,
and while in the act of marching the armies were open to any
assault upon their left flank. It was however carried out
unmolested. … On the 26th the English arrived at the little
landlocked harbour of Balaclava, at the foot of the steep
hills forming the eastern edge of the plateau. The fleet, duly
warned of the operation, had already arrived. …
{2777}
Canrobert … had now succeeded the dying St. Arnaud. … A
similar question to that which had arisen on the 24th now
again rose. Should Sebastopol be attacked at once or not?
Again it would appear that Lord Raglan, Sir Edmund Lyons, and
others, were desirous of immediate assault. Again the French,
more instructed in the technical rules of war, and supported
by the opinion of Sir John Burgoyne, who commanded the English
Engineers, declined the more vigorous suggestion, and it was
determined at least to wait till the siege guns from the fleet
were landed, and the artillery fire of the enemy weakened, in
preparation for the assault. In the light of subsequent
knowledge, and perhaps even with the knowledge then obtainable
if rightly used, it appears that in all the three instances
mentioned the bolder less regular course would have been the
true wisdom. For Menschikoff had adopted a somewhat strange
measure of defence. He had given up all hopes of using his
fleet to advantage. He had caused some of his vessels to be
sunk at the entrance of the harbour, which was thus closed;
and having drawn the crews, some 18,000 in number, from the
ships, he had intrusted to them the defence of the town, and
had marched away with his whole army. The garrison did not now
number more than 25,000, and they were quite unfit—being
sailors—for operations in the field. The defences were not
those of a regular fortress, but rather of an entrenched
position. … There were in Sebastopol two men who, working
together, made an extraordinary use of their opportunities.
Korniloff, the Admiral, forcing himself to the front by sheer
nobleness of character and enthusiasm, found in Colonel von
Todleben, at that time on a voluntary mission in the town, an
assistant of more than common genius. … The decision of the
allies to await the landing of their siege train was more
far-reaching than the generals at the time conceived, although
some few men appear to have understood its necessary result.
It in fact changed what was intended to be a rapid coup de
main into a regular siege—and a regular siege of an imperfect
and inefficient character, because the allied forces were not
strong enough to invest the town. … Preparation had not been
made to meet the change of circumstances. The work thrown upon
the administration was beyond its powers; the terrible
suffering of the army during the ensuing winter was the
inevitable result. … The bombardment of the suburb, including
the Malakoff and the Redan, fell to the English; the French
undertook to carry it out against the city itself, directing
their fire principally against the Flagstaff battery. … Slowly
the siege trains were landed and brought into position in the
batteries marked out by the engineers. … It was not till the
16th of October that these preparations were completed. … The
energy of Korniloff and the skill of Todleben had by this time
roused the temper of the garrison, and had rendered the
defences far more formidable; and in the beginning of October
means had been taken to persuade Menschikoff to allow
considerable bodies of troops to return to the town. … On the
17th the great bombardment began. The English batteries gained
the mastery over those opposed to them, but the efforts of the
French, much reduced by the fire of the besieged, were brought
to a speedy conclusion by a great explosion within their
lines. Canrobert sent word to Lord Raglan that he should be
unable to resume the fire for two days. The attack by the
fleet had been to little purpose. … Every day till the 25th of
October the fire of the allies was continued. But under cover
of this fire (always encountered by the ceaseless energy of
Todleben) the change had begun, and the French were attacking
the Flagstaff bastion by means of regular approaches. On that
day the siege was somewhat rudely interrupted. The presence of
the Russian army outside the walls and the defect in the
position of the allies became evident."

_J. F. Bright,
History of England, 1837-1880,
pages 251-256._

ALSO IN:
_A. W. Kinglake,
The Invasion of the Crimea,
volumes 3-4._

RUSSIA: A. D. 1854 (October-November).
The Crimean War: Balaclava and Inkermann.