A Turkish Fort on the Asiatic side of the entrance to the Dardanelles. Photo, Central News.
You may be sure that the Turks jealously guard these narrow waters. As early as 1460 forts were erected to defend them. Now both sides of the Narrows fairly bristle with powerful forts, in which big modern guns are mounted. You have already heard that the forts are provided with searchlights, which play across the water at night, and reveal the movements of even the smallest craft. Not only are the shores studded with forts, but batteries of big guns are concealed on the heights behind, and hidden torpedo tubes are ranged along the water's edge. Nature has also played her part in the defence of this dangerous and difficult channel. Swift currents sweep through the Narrows, and not only make navigation difficult, but carry along drifting mines. An enemy warship venturing into the channel must run the gauntlet of big guns on the shore and deadly explosives in the sea. While the defences remain intact the waterway is barred to her. To reduce the forts was, therefore, our first task.
I have already told you that when Britain declared war on Turkey (November 5th, 1914) a long friendship was broken. Our support of Turkey arose out of our deep distrust of Russia, now our good friend and loyal ally. We distrusted Russia because we knew that ever since the days of Peter the Great she had coveted Constantinople, and we feared that if she gained possession of that city our Far Eastern possessions would be threatened. We therefore threw in our lot with Turkey, and more than once saved her from being wiped off the map of Europe. During the present war we have reaped the bitter fruits of Turkish ingratitude.
About the year 1840 it seemed clear that Turkey was going to pieces, and that the break-up of her empire was only a matter of time. The Tsar Nicholas said to one of our ambassadors, "We have on our hands a sick man—a very sick man. It would be a great misfortune if one of these days he should slip away from us before the necessary arrangements have been made." He therefore proposed to divide up the Turkish dominions, taking Constantinople for himself, and offering us Crete and Egypt as our share of the spoils. The bribe was, of course, refused.
A few years later Greek and Latin priests quarrelled as to who should take charge of the holy places in Palestine. The Tsar Nicholas supported the Greeks, and the French became the champions of the Latins. Then the Tsar put forward a claim that the Sultan should recognize him as the protector of all Christians within the Turkish Empire. This demand was, of course, resisted, and in 1853 Russian armies invaded Turkey. We were not in the least interested in the trivial dispute, but we hated and feared the prospect of the Russians in Constantinople. Further, as a great trading nation, we wished to keep the Dardanelles open for peaceful commerce, and we thought that this could best be done if the straits remained in the hands of a weak Power such as Turkey. So we joined the French, and fought the Russians in the Crimea. We lost 24,000 men in the course of the war, and added £41,000,000 to our national debt; but we prevented the Russians from overwhelming the Turks.
Even this poor success was not lasting. Strife, tumult, and murder reigned in the Balkans under the cruel and blighting government of the Sultan, and twenty-four years later Russia again sent her armies into Turkey. The Russians drove back the Turks, and early in 1878 they were within a short distance of Constantinople. A cry of alarm and indignation broke out in England, and people went about the London streets shouting a popular song with the refrain, "The Russians shall not take Constantinople."
So strong was public feeling that a British fleet was ordered to the Dardanelles. The admiral was instructed to pass the straits, and, "if fired upon and his ships struck, to return the fire, but not to wait to silence the forts." On February 13, 1878, seven ships of war, under Admiral Hornby, steamed up the Dardanelles. The Turks manned the forts at the Narrows; but when the ships came up against a strong current and in the face of a blinding snowstorm, they forbore to fire their guns. There was an anxious moment when the Alexandra, which led the line, ran aground on the Asiatic side, within easy range of Turkish batteries. She was, however, unmolested, and managed to get off after four hours' hard work. She then joined her consorts in the Sea of Marmora, and the guns of the ships were trained on the domes and minarets of the Turkish capital.
No doubt the presence of a British fleet within striking range of Constantinople had its effect upon the Russians. They did not enter the city, but agreed to make a treaty with the Powers, by which Serbia, Montenegro, and Rumania became independent states, and Bulgaria was granted a form of Home Rule. The Christian states which have been carved out of Turkey in Europe owe everything to Russia. As you know, the Christians of the Balkans are Slavs, and are akin to the Russians both by race and religion. Russia has always been their friend and champion, and Serbia and Montenegro have stood by their benefactor during the present war. Rumania had, so far, determined to remain neutral; but Bulgaria, as we shall learn later, played a traitor's part, and before the year 1915 was out she had joined the Central Powers.
Britain has suffered greatly for her mistake in bolstering up the Turks, and in preventing the Russians from becoming masters of Constantinople. Had they been in possession of that city when the present war broke out, the work of overcoming the Germans and Austrians would have been shorn of half its difficulty. The Dardanelles would have been in the hands of our friends, and there would have been an open sea road by which Russia could have carried on her overseas trade, and received munitions and supplies from her Allies. There would have been no need for that naval attack on the forts of the Dardanelles which I am about to describe; nor should we have undertaken that land campaign in the Gallipoli peninsula which cost us more than 117,000 casualties, and ended in failure, only redeemed by the splendid gallantry of our men.