As regards our preparedness in our first campaign on the Danube, an officer who took part writes in his recently published Memoirs:[14]
“The conflict with the West in the Crimean War of 1854–56 ought not to have taken us by surprise. Rumours of war were prevalent in the summer of 1852; and, on account of these rumours, particular anxiety was felt concerning the inefficiency of our transport and military equipment generally. Indeed, the late Emperor Nicolai-Pavlovitch, at his autumn inspection at Elisavetgrad, personally warned the troops of the proximity of hostilities. Finally, in June, 1853, our troops crossed the Pruth and occupied the Danube Principality, and in October Turkey declared war. Our brilliant victory and the total destruction of the enemy’s fleet at Sinope aroused the enthusiasm of the whole nation, but gave France and great Britain a casus belli against us. Then began the long series of sad and scandalous disasters to the Russian arms. The Danube campaign of 1853–54 could not possibly have been successful, for it was carried out with no definite object. Either because we did not fathom Austria’s real intentions, or else believed that she would remain neutral, we tried to meet her demands, and by so doing tied our own hands. Our defence of the left bank of the river was not favoured by one single piece of good fortune, and our offensive operations were soon abandoned under pressure from Austria. The campaign brought us neither honour nor gain, and while once more confirming the gallantry of the Russian soldier, it exposed the criminal incapacity of his commanders and the many abuses which had crept into the Service. In June, 1854, we returned with shame and anger to our own country from the walls of undefeated Silistria, and the Allies turned their glances towards the Crimea.”
The disembarkation of the allied armies, only 50,000 strong, seemed madness in face of our force of 1,000,000 men and our strong fleet. However, Prince Menshikoff, the Commander-in-Chief, and a professional sailor into the bargain, allowed the landing to take place without hindrance at Eupatoria on September 14 and 15, though he had at his disposal sixty vessels, amongst them some steamers. Though the fleet could not, of course, have counted with absolute certainty on victory, we had it in our power then to wreck the enemy’s plan of operations by dispersing their convoys of transports. The Allies were on the sea from September 8 to September 14 between Varna and Eupatoria, but we were unable to find them. At the Alma we had 33,000 men (42 battalions, 16 squadrons, 84 guns), and offered a determined resistance; but though we were operating in our own country, we did not know the locality, and General Boskey, leading his column by a path of whose existence we were ignorant, fell upon our left flank. This attack decided the day, and our troops were routed.[15] Then on September 26 began the eleven months’ struggle for Sevastopol. Our exhausted fleet landed a number of guns and lent some experienced commanders to the army—chief of all, Nakhimoff, Korniloff, and Istomin. Operations now assumed the character of siege warfare, in which our troops played their part most nobly; but it must be remembered that the army of the Crimea was twice severely beaten: on November 5, 1854, at Inkerman, and on August 17, 1855, at the Tchernaya. Regarding the Battle of Inkerman, the above-quoted writer says:
“Prince Menshikoff, with the arrival of the remaining two divisions of the 4th Infantry Corps, had, in addition to the Sevastopol garrison, an army of 40,000 men under him, but he lost the great battle of Inkerman on November 5, 1854. Its object was to seize Sapun Ridge, as a first step to raising the siege of the town, after which he would have driven the Allies towards Balaclava and then out of the Crimea. The battle was well planned, every arrangement was made to insure victory, but the result was, owing to the incomprehensible mistakes of individual commanders, a bloody and decisive defeat.
* * * * *
“Ten thousand casualties, a loss of moral among the troops—the soldiers’ lack of confidence in their leaders, as well as Prince Menshikoff’s distrust of the army under his command—were the results of this disaster which for so long doomed our force to play a passive rôle. The ultimate issue of the Crimean campaign was really settled by this; the moment for the relief of Sevastopol had been missed, and our field operations lost every trace of initiative. A moral deterioration set in which led to unheard-of irregularities in our army.”
Menshikoff was replaced by Prince Gorchakoff, but things became no better. The troops at the Alma[16] were commanded just as they had been at Inkerman. While individual commanders did not help one another, the attack delivered from Sevastopol did not support the operations on the Alma. On September 8 the Allies delivered an assault, and seized Malakhoff Hill. Though they were driven back with great loss from other portions of the position, we were compelled to withdraw from the northern side during the night of the 10th. This retirement was decisive, and peace was declared—a peace dishonourable to us, for by it we were deprived of the right to maintain a fleet on the Black Sea, and lost the mouths of the Danube. This result was all the more painful as the Allies were inferior to us in strength, and, had we been determined to continue the war at all costs, would have been obliged to make up their minds to conquer the Peninsula. Even had they succeeded in taking it, we ought, remembering Peter the Great’s counsel in the Northern War, and Alexander I.’s example in the war of the Fatherland, to have continued the struggle.
Our weak points were the incapacity of our seniors and of our staff, and particularly the inefficiency of the supply services. Of the different arms, the infantry, artillery, and sappers were the most reliable, while the cavalry, despite its numbers, played a small and inglorious part. It was very difficult to maintain communication with our own country in the rear, especially in the winter, when the roads were bad. The transport of supplies to the front encountered such great obstacles, and was so badly arranged, that the troops had not only to undergo great hardships, but were often in actual want of food. The medical services also were shockingly organized. Drunkenness and gambling amongst both officers and men, especially at a distance from the advanced positions, were of everyday occurrence, and looting and robbery of every kind became universal. But this was the seamy side of affairs, and did not imply that the whole army or the whole nation were rotten, for, despite all the mistakes of our commanders, the men kept up their spirit, and were quite ready to fight on until victory should eventually crown their efforts. The war produced Nakhimoff, Korniloff, and Istomin, who met heroic deaths, whilst amongst the survivors stood out the names of Khruleff, Todleben, Sabashinski, and others. Of the regimental commanders, most proved in every way fitted for their duties, and many junior officers of all arms became seasoned veterans whom the private soldiers would follow anywhere. The men were patient, enduring, brave, and ignorant.
The finances of the country, moreover, were not crippled by this war. Throughout the operations only two loans were raised, amounting to £10,000,000; £43,000,000 of paper-money were issued, and £19,000,000 taken in State banks. Altogether the war cost us £72,000,000. Even in 1856 general belief in our power and resources was not shaken, and our credit stood high, in spite of our disasters in the field. We, therefore, could and ought to have continued the struggle. If we had done so, the Allies would, as I have said, have been obliged to undertake the conquest of the Crimea. In proportion as they advanced from the coast their difficulties would have increased, while our army, gaining numbers and experience, would have become more and more formidable, and would in the end have hurled them back into the sea. In his notes on the war our historian, Solovieff wrote as follows: