The Emperor Nicholas I was charmingly courteous and kind to young people. Thus, one day, the Court arrived in Moscow, and the Moscow nobility arranged a brilliant ball to greet Their Majesties. Naturally the young girls all longed to be presented on this occasion. One amongst them was exceedingly beautiful and attractive. The Emperor addressed a few words to her, expressing his pleasure at making her acquaintance. She looked at him somewhat severely, without answering a word.
"Do you not hear what I say?" enquired the Emperor in some surprise.
"Yes," replied the young lady curtly, "I hear, but I do not listen!" (J'enténds mais je n'écoute pas!)
The Emperor, extremely amused by this tone of self-defence, when he never dreamt of attacking or offending, went to the Empress. "There is a charming child here," he said, "most amusing and innocent. Make her your Maid of Honour." This was done. By her position she was quite entitled to this distinction, but still, people were very much amused. Later on she received other honours, occupied a high position at our Court, and died only a short time ago.
One of the great desires of the Emperor Nicholas I was to establish such a close and cordial alliance between Russia and England as even then would form a solid guarantee of peace to the world. It was his desire to cement the alliance that led him to make those overtures to Sir Henry Seymour, which were so basely misrepresented and so perfidiously utilised to destroy the good understanding they were intended to promote.
"'You know my feelings?' so Mr. Kinglake begins the story, in his vivacious and charming but slightly unjust The Invasion of the Crimea, 'you know my feelings,' said the Emperor to Sir Henry Seymour, 'with regard to England. What I have told you before, I say again; it was intended that the two countries should be upon terms of close amity; and I feel sure that this will continue to be the case; and I repeat that it is very essential that the two Governments should be on the best of terms, and the necessity was never greater than at present. When we are agreed, I am quite without anxiety as to the rest of Europe. It is immaterial what the others may think or do.'"
This is what the Emperor Nicholas always said, and it was with him a fixed idea. "I desire to speak to you," he said on another occasion, "as a friend and as a gentleman. [The Emperor little knew how the confidence he placed in the "gentleman" would be requited.] If England and I arrive at an understanding in this matter it is indifferent what others do or think."
In 1846, during his visit to London, the Emperor expressed a wish that, while he would do all in his power to keep the "Sick Man" (Turkey) alive, we should keep the possible and eventual case of a collapse honestly and reasonably before our eyes. This is not the only reason why the memory of the Emperor Nicholas I is ever grateful to those who labour for the Anglo-Russian Alliance. Nor is it the only one why I recall these suggestive passages just now. Some people invoke the prejudice of the past to poison the friendship of the future. Let me take a more grateful course of recalling the repeated attempts of Russia to arrive at a good understanding with England. There is a continuity about Russian policy, and the principles laid down by the grandfather are followed by the grandson.
It is important to remember that in the last century, Austria and England, the friends of the Porte, have taken more Turkish territory for themselves than we, her hereditary foes.