In 1470 Mohamet II included it in the Turkish Empire, of which it has ever since remained a part.
The modern town has about ten thousand people, and presents to the view of one arriving before it by sea the peculiar, shabby, picturesque and dilapidated appearance of most third-rate Turkish places, where red-tiled roofs overhang mouldy, moss-covered, wooden buildings. Here and there among the dull red of the roofs rises the bright and graceful minaret of a mosque; while in the background clumps of the funereal cypress show the spots where the faithful lie at rest. Portions of a ruinous, turreted wall are to be seen here and there; but there are no forts or other defences worthy of the name, although for years it had been a Turkish “military” port, where men-of-war were occasionally built or repaired.
Perhaps Sinope would never have been heard of in modern times, but for a naval action which created an unusual sensation throughout both the Christian and Moslem worlds, and which alienated from the Russians, at the very beginning of the Crimean War, the sympathy of many who would otherwise have been favorable to their designs.
The affair about to be narrated was an abuse of superior force, at a time when war was inevitable, but had not been proclaimed, between Russia and the Ottoman Porte.
On November 30th, 1853, a Turkish squadron, consisting of seven frigates, three corvettes, and two steamers, were driven, by stress of bad weather, into the anchorage of Sinope. In this, their own port of refuge, they were surprised by the arrival of the Russian Vice Admiral Nachimoff, with a fleet of two three-decked ships, four 74s, three frigates, one transport, and three steam-vessels.
Admiral Nachimoff at once summoned the Turkish squadron to surrender to him. But, in spite of the immense disproportion in force, the Turkish Admiral resolved to resist his demands to the last extremity, and to destroy his squadron rather than strike his flag. So about midday, in response to a formal summons, he opened fire upon the Russians. It seemed almost like an act of madness, to which he was goaded by the outrageousness of such a demand made upon him before war was declared; but we cannot help admiring his desperate courage and determination, even if it was that of despair; for he could have had no hope of success against such a force as the Russians had.
This remarkable action, thus begun, was maintained until a full hour after sunset; the termination of the bloody fight being lighted up by the flames of the town itself, which had been set on fire by the Russian shells.
At last the Ottoman squadron was blotted out of existence; and not till then did the reports of the guns cease, and silence fall upon the waters of the harbor.
Of the twelve Turkish vessels, eight were sunk outright, at their anchors, by shot. The Captain of the Mizamiéh, of sixty guns, fought his ship to the last, with terrible energy, and at last fired his own magazine, and blew the vessel, and most of those who had survived the action, to fragments.
The Captain of the Navik, of 52 guns, followed his example, and immediately blew up his vessel.