Widening of the Question—The Fleets in Besika Bay—Lord Clarendon's Despatch—The Czar and Lord Stratford de Redcliffe—Nesselrode's "Last Effort"—Military Preparations—Blindness of the British Cabinet—Nesselrode's Ultimatum rejected—Occupation of the Principalities—Projects of Settlement—The Vienna Note—Its Rejection by the Porte—Division of the Powers—Text of the Note—Divisions in the British Cabinet—The Fleets in the Bosphorus—The Conference at Olmütz—The Sultan's Grand Council—Lord Stratford de Redcliffe's Last Effort—Patriotism of the Turks—Omar Pasha's Victories—The Russian Fleet puts forth—Lord Stratford de Redcliffe refuses Support to the Turks—The Turkish Fleet Destroyed at Sinope—Indignation in England—The French Suggestion—It is accepted by Lord Clarendon—Russia demands Explanations—Diplomatic Relations suspended—The Letter of Napoleon III.—The Western Powers arm—An Ultimatum to Russia—It is unanswered—The Baltic Fleet—Publication of the Correspondence—Declarations of War.
WHEN Prince Menschikoff presented his ultimatum the Eastern Question underwent a complete change. Up to that moment the quarrel had been confined, first to Russia and France, next to Russia and the Porte; and the struggle, although supported on one side by the advance of armies, was still a diplomatic struggle. Prince Menschikoff's formal demand for a protectorate, the violence of his language, and his imperious request for an answer in a limited time, converted the question at once into a European question of the first magnitude.
The earliest news that the Prince had presented an ultimatum to the Porte created a profound impression in the Courts of Paris and London, and even in the Courts of Berlin and Vienna, where Russia had so many friends. The British Government heard of it with "extreme surprise and regret." They had been wronged by the conduct of the Czar, and a strong revulsion followed from confidence to mistrust. The Emperor had broken his word.
The intelligence of the last violence offered to the Porte by Prince Menschikoff reached England on the 30th of May. The British Cabinet took a decisive resolution. On the 31st of May a despatch went forth from the Foreign Office, placing the fleet under Admiral Dundas at the "disposal" of Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, to be ordered whithersoever he would, but not to be allowed to enter the Dardanelles, except on the express demand of the Sultan. Two days afterwards, by a direct order, Admiral Dundas was instructed to proceed at once from Malta to the neighbourhood of the Dardanelles; and three days later, the French Government learning this, and being desirous of acting in concert, the Emperor sent orders to his squadron to quit Salamis, and proceed to Besika Bay. It was not possible—it was not, at that stage of the question, desirable—to do more. The two fleets were placed within call of the Sultan, and the treaty of 1841 was not broken or strained.
The temper of the British Government now underwent a great change. Its trust in the Emperor Nicholas was gone. On the same day that Lord Clarendon entrusted the fleet to Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, he wrote a despatch to Sir Hamilton Seymour, recapitulating, with trenchant brevity, those "most solemn assurances" which the Czar had given over and over again. It is a long catalogue; there are no less than sixteen distinct pledges that the question of the Holy Places, and that alone, required to be resolved. Yet at this very time the Czar was urging on Prince Menschikoff to extort from the Porte a treaty which would have laid that independence at his feet. The "explicit, precise, and satisfactory assurances" which came day by day from St. Petersburg were day by day proved to be worthless at Constantinople. The assurances of the Czar, and the language and acts of his Minister at the Porte were in flagrant contradiction. This flagrant "discrepancy," as the British Secretary of State mildly called it, he did not fail to set forth as the ground of a demand for explanations; nor did he fail to remark that Prince Menschikoff had been supported by a display of force, with what object he desired the Russian Government to explain. At the same time Lord Clarendon distinctly informed the Russian Government that England was determined to abide by that policy which held the preservation of Turkish independence and integrity to be essential to the peace of Europe. Sir Hamilton Seymour had already confronted Count Nesselrode with his promises. Nothing can exceed the cool effrontery with which the wily old Chancellor maintained that he had concealed nothing. His language, he averred, had always pointed to the exact reparation which Prince Menschikoff had demanded, and against which the Turkish Ministry and the British Ambassador had raised such "unaccountable" objections. Well might Sir Hamilton remark that "a long-cherished object" had been "sought by a tortuous path." Indeed, few finer specimens of treacherous diplomacy can be found than those which are furnished by the authentic records of the correspondence between the Czar and the British Government in the first five months of 1853.
The anger and violence of the Emperor Nicholas at his defeat were augmented by the fact that Lord Stratford de Redcliffe was the British Envoy at the Porte. In spite of the evidence pouring in upon him from day to day, the Czar would believe that Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, overawing the Ministers, and coercing the Sultan, had alone been the cause of the rejection of the treaty. The Czar writhed at the thought. Count Nesselrode—and in reading his words we read, no doubt, the words of Nicholas—imputes the failure of Menschikoff to the vehemence of, "the Queen's Ambassador." Lord Stratford de Redcliffe was accused of displaying an "incurable mistrust, a vehement activity." Russia was aware of the efforts he employed with the Sultan and the Council, and how deaf he had proved to the prayers of Reschid Pasha. No; the rupture had been brought about by "passion," by "a blind obstinacy," by forcing the Porte "to brave" Russia by "distrust as unfounded as it was offensive." In short, the Czar believed, or affected to believe, that he had suffered a moral defeat at the hands of Lord Stratford de Redcliffe; and that he would not endure.
Lord Clarendon's catalogue of Count Nesselrode's worthless promises was crossed on its way to St. Petersburg by a despatch from that Minister to Baron Brunnow, quite as insolent as any Prince Menschikoff had addressed to the Porte. In the most haughty style of the Russian Foreign Office Britain was warned not to drive the Porte, by a policy of mistrust, to the verge of an abyss in which the moderation of the Emperor had alone prevented her from being swallowed up. This heated language, this avowal that the Czar regarded himself as the destiny of Turkey, did not open the eyes of Lord Aberdeen, did not enable him to see that the Czar was resolved, cost what it would, to have his will obeyed. Nor did the ultimatum addressed to Reschid Pasha, insolent and peremptory as it was, reveal to Lord Aberdeen the true state of the case. Declaring that the Czar had been always friendly and generous and moderate, and that by opposing his intentions, by showing distrust without cause, by giving refusals without excuse, a serious offence had been committed against "a sincere ally and well-disposed neighbour," Count Nesselrode had the tact to appeal, not only to the wisdom, but to the "patriotism" of the Turkish Minister, and almost ordered him to surrender without delay, under penalty of seeing a portion of the dominions of his master taken, and held as a "material guarantee." Such was the character of the "last effort" made by this moderate, this conciliatory, this generous potentate, this "sincere ally and well-disposed neighbour," to extort from a weak Power the essence of sovereignty over twelve millions of subjects.
The fiery ultimatum went on its way to Constantinople. The force to back it received fresh marching orders. Baron Manteuffel told Lord Bloomfield that Prince Gortschakoff had been appointed to command the Russian army on the frontier of Turkey; and that his horses and baggage had, on the 5th of June, already reached headquarters. A strong force of gunboats went up the Danube to Ismail to prepare a means of crossing the river, and the merchants at Odessa were warned to wind up their affairs. The Turks also were bent on making ready for the worst. The small squadron of Turkish men-of-war took up a position in the Black Sea mouth of the Bosphorus. A flying camp was established between the Black Sea and Kilia, and Omar Pasha was ordered to Shumla. But Varna was defenceless, and the works at the mouth of the Bosphorus were out of repair, and the guns worthless; and except the resistance which the Anglo-French fleet might offer, there was none which the navy and army of Nicholas could not overcome. The whole disposable force of the Sultan consisted of 80,000 men, mainly militia. In the face of the menacing preparation of Russia, the British Government did nothing but form a camp for 10,000 men at Chobham!
For they did not believe in the outbreak of war. Lord Clarendon's despatches breathed of nothing but peace. The British Government could not shake off its old confidence in Nicholas, although he was in arms at the threshold of Constantinople. The policy of England, it was said, was "essentially pacific." No hostile feelings were entertained towards Russia, but every allowance was made for the difficulty in which the Emperor "had been placed"—by his own acts, in the main, the Foreign Secretary should have said. The British Government seemed to regard the threatened occupation of the Principalities as something inevitable, and while they still hoped to bring about a peaceful settlement, they did nothing and said nothing to prevent this further violation of right. It was a matter of course that they should appeal to the German Powers, telling them that France and Britain, in sending their fleets to Besika Bay, and in approving of the stand made by the Porte, were actuated by the sole desire to uphold Turkish independence, and begging them, especially Austria, to exert their influence upon the Czar in favour of peace. It is strange, indeed, that the British Ministers did not see the drift and persistency of Russia; and that, from the temper of the Czar, war was so probable that they could not do too much to place themselves in a position to bear a part becoming Britain. Lord Stratford de Redcliffe saw more distinctly. He told the Ministers that the master view of the Czar was to obtain a predominant influence over the counsels of the Porte, as a means of securing, if not hastening, its downfall; and he said rightly that if Turkey were to be left to struggle single-handed, the sooner the Porte were apprised of its helpless condition the better. But the British Government had taken up the weak position of desiring, almost resolving, to defend the Sultan, yet of neglecting to provide the means lest that very act should precipitate war. And so, while they went on the road to war, by thwarting the Emperor's designs over the Ottoman Empire, they prevented themselves from making war with effect by abstaining from preparation.