On perusing the despatches published by the French Government in its official organ, we have been particularly struck by the clearness of views and the intrepidity, mingled with good sense, which pervade them. From the moment that the question assumed a more general character; when it ceased to refer exclusively to French interests, we remark the masterly view which the Emperor’s minister of foreign affairs took of the whole question as it then stood; of the accuracy with which he judged of the future conduct of the Czar, and the marked line of conduct which he proposed to follow. Yet the difficulties in the way of the French Government were great. With the cunning which distinguishes the policy of Russia, this power had the tact to present the Eastern question, from the outset, in a light most disadvantageous to France; and the excessive zeal and indiscretion of M. de Lavalette indisposed the other powers, and afforded a pretext to our own Government to stand aloof. In this country the policy and person of the French Emperor had been unpopular. With the prejudice, mistrust, and ill-feeling which his name inspired, it is not to be wondered at that all his acts were viewed with suspicion; and the question of the holy places was at once, and as this result has shown, unfairly interpreted as the forerunner of new and more important pretensions,—as the continuation, in fact, of the plans of his uncle, whose hostility to England he was supposed to have inherited with his crown. It was at the moment of the invasion panic—which was so far useful that it roused us to strengthen our defences, and organise a naval and military force which we then little thought would be employed against Russia—that the French minister at Constantinople succeeded in obtaining immunities in favour of the Latin church, of which France assumed to be the protector. We will not now examine whether these privileges were of the exorbitant and unjust character ascribed to them. It is sufficient that they were so considered by Russia, and that the advantages extorted from the Porte for the monks of the holy cities were understood as placing the Greek communion in a condition of relative inferiority, and as realising a triumph over Russia in those places where she had long reigned supreme, and where she would brook no rival, much less a superior. From such a quarrel between rival churches, with the dogmas of which we had nothing in common, England properly kept apart, and France was left to find her own way, unaided, out of the unpleasant position in which her agents had placed her. No moment could be more propitious to Russia, ever watchful as she has always been of dissension between the Western powers, and ever ready to take advantage of it. The French Government soon saw and met the danger. Its ambassador was recalled and disavowed. Explanations were promptly and frankly given, and readily received; and M. de Nesselrode himself, however disappointed or checked, was forced to admit that these explanations were perfectly satisfactory, and that the redress obtained in favour of the Latins was not of a nature to trench upon the immunities of the Greeks. That admission completely closed the question of the Holy Places, in which France was exclusively interested. But scarcely had it terminated when the mission of Prince Menschikoff assumed all at once a strange and startling aspect. It was soon seen that the holy places were but the mask which covered pretensions of far greater moment. The French Government, struck by the haughty and menacing tone of the Russian envoy, quickly understood the true cause of the vast military preparations of Russia, and became aware that they were the prelude to a state of things which would endanger the independence of the Sultan and the security of his states. It considered that France was bound by the Treaties of 1841, to which she was a party, as well as by her position in Europe, not to regard with indifference the proceedings of Russia; and, as a precautionary measure, it ordered the Mediterranean fleet to proceed on the 20th March to the Greek waters, and to remain there until further events rendered a nearer approach to the Sultan’s capital necessary. When that order was issued, France alone declared its belief in the grave and threatening character of the pretensions of the Czar. Austria affected to give credit to the repeated assurances of Russian moderation, and continued to keep aloof; and Lord Aberdeen, whose attention had been drawn by the public press, and, no doubt, by his own agents, to the coming storm, could perceive no cloud, no angry speck in the political horizon. The French Government, as is proved by the despatches in the Moniteur, persisted in its conviction that the most serious dangers were at hand; and that Russia believed that the long-expected moment had arrived for realising her traditional policy in the East—the annihilation of the Ottoman Empire, or its absorption, by the process of previous degradation. France considered that, under such circumstances, complete obstruction was impossible, and that, so far as England was concerned, the necessity of maintaining her maritime superiority ought to be a sufficient motive for her participation in a more active policy. The instructions to M. de Lacour, dated the 22d March, presupposed the adherence of the British Government to that policy; the co-operation of the English squadron was anticipated for months previously; and, in his despatch of the 3d June, M. Drouyn de Lhuys presumed that the policy of the French Cabinet would soon become that of the Powers who were equally if not more interested than France in the maintenance of the Treaties of 1841. This energetic conduct, and the conviction which began to creep over the slow mind of Lord Aberdeen, produced some effect. On the 3d June the English squadron received orders similar to those of the French, and at length it sailed for Besica Bay. In the course of the same month, Austria and Prussia, roused to a sense of the impending danger, mustered courage enough to show symptoms of resistance to the pretensions of Russia, and in the month of July these two Powers united with England and France in the Vienna note, with the avowed object of maintaining peace. We are bound to admit that throughout this operation the French Government acted in a manner that redounds to its honour, and that subsequent events have fully justified its original apprehensions and precautions. The Vienna note was very properly regarded by the Divan as leaving a door open to the encroachments of Russia. The instinct of impending danger rendered the Porte more acute than usual, and its fears, which had been termed puerile, were completely justified by the commentary of M. de Nesselrode, who accepted the note for the same reasons that made the Sultan reject it. The plenipotentiaries were confounded (or at least affected to be so) on learning that the elaborate state paper, which had been so carefully worded, and which had stood the scrutinising glance and the keen criticism of the collective statesmanship of the Four Cabinets, was, in point of fact, nothing less than the Menschikoff ultimatum, which had been indignantly rejected by the same conference that adopted the Vienna note. Matters now became more complicated and alarming. The war which began to rage on the banks of the Danube, with every prospect of a long duration, produced its fatal effects on the commerce of western Europe; and as the hope of preserving peace became weaker each day, the union of the four great Powers was found to be more necessary. The consequence of this resolution was a new conference, which opened on the 5th December 1853. The note of the 13th January was the result. It was, no doubt, intended as the bond by which the Powers pledged themselves to act together for the peace of Europe; for, notwithstanding the suspicious conduct of Austria, it was clear that she, even more than any other, was interested in resisting any attempt to violate international law. The French Government acted throughout this affair with much prudence, foresight, and loyalty. We have it on record that Louis Napoleon and his Government saw from the commencement the aim of Russia, and fully appreciated the grave and alarming character of the events which were preparing in the East. The Emperor of the French had, as we have said, been exposed to a great deal of obloquy in this country. He had encountered the sullenness or hostility of our Government; he had to contend with the intrigues of political parties in France, the most selfish and unprincipled of all, the Fusionists; and he exhibited throughout the sagacity which foresaw, and the judgment which estimated, the full importance of the situation—as well as the courage to face it. He who had been suspected of a design to trample all obligations under foot, to disregard faith and honour, stood forth boldly, first, and alone, to defend the inviolability of treaties; and he summoned the nations of Europe to co-operate with him. Insulted by suspicions of his good faith, and baffled in his attempts to conciliate his enemies, he yet did not abandon the task he had undertaken. He at length succeeded in bringing over England. Austria and Prussia, ever timorous, hesitating, and slow, inclined to the manly policy of which France had set the example, and the question of the Holy Places, which had been confined to Russia and France, soon lost its original character, and assumed another, which now interests and agitates the whole of the European continent. We live in strange times! One of the strangest events to which the Eastern question has given rise is, that Napoleon III.—the “idiot,” as a noble lord in the present Cabinet was wont to call him—the penniless adventurer, the man regardless of all ties, of all faith, should be the person to remind the Conservative Governments of Europe of the treaties they themselves had framed, and to summon them to execute them faithfully. Louis Napoleon is no longer an outcast; nor is France isolated. His alliance, on the contrary, is courted; and among his former foes are some who find no terms too extravagant to celebrate his disinterestedness and his loyalty. The French despatches do honour to the sovereign who inspired, and the minister who drew them up; and they are in every respect worthy of the great nation whose title to our friendship is, that she has been the most formidable and honourable of our enemies.
Foresight, moderation, and firmness are, as we have observed, the characteristics of French policy in the Eastern question. In these despatches we see the French minister anticipate the moment when negotiation would become fruitless, and when all honourable mode of arrangement would be rejected by Russia. In its earlier stages we find the French ambassador in London, earnestly and repeatedly urged to come to an understanding with the English Cabinet on the conduct which, in such an emergency, it would be necessary to adopt. It is to the repeated instances of M. Drouyn de Lhuys we owe it, that identical instructions were given to M. de Lacour and Lord Stratford de Redcliffe, which directed that the fleets should enter the Dardanelles if the Russians did not evacuate the Principalities which they had invaded. Yet the fatal hesitation of Lord Aberdeen may be traced even in the resolves of the French minister. In the decided measure adopted by M. Drouyn de Lhuys, there appeared an unwillingness to break off rudely with Russia. In his despatch of the 1st September, that minister informs Count Walewski, that the presence of the fleets at the entrance of the Dardanelles—outside the castles—if demanded by the Porte—was rather a measure of precaution against the weather, than an encouragement to the Porte in its refusal to the reasonable demands of Russia. It may be that such a declaration was with a view to allay any alarm which might be felt by the German states at the onward movement of the fleet. We find additional evidence of the unwillingness to occasion fresh embarrassment in the cause assigned for the first appearance of a detachment of the squadron before Constantinople. That pretext was the apprehension of insurrection against the Sultan by the Ulemas, and the massacre of the Christian population. We have no doubt that there was considerable dissatisfaction manifested by the Turks at the delays of their soi-disant allies; and that there existed much irritation at the conduct of the western Courts, who had advised the Porte to resist the demands of Russia; excited it to use all the means at its disposal to maintain that resistance; and who, when Turkey was left exposed to the wrath of her formidable enemy, still lingered at the mouth of the Dardanelles. But we look in vain for satisfactory proofs of the plots of insurrection and massacre attributed to the Mussulman population, and assigned as the cause of the presence of the fleets at Constantinople. We regard the whole thing as one of those paltry subterfuges, of which we find so many instances throughout this proceeding. Nothing was, however, gained by it; and neither the Emperor of Russia nor the public was deceived. The Christian population of Stamboul showed no sign of apprehension, and we have reason to believe that they disclaimed, so far as they were concerned, any such motive. The Turks were offended at being accused of a crime which they had not contemplated, and outraged by being falsely accused by Christians of treason to their own sovereign. With the arrival of the fleets before Constantinople vanished the danger of the Christians, of which, however, they were perfectly unconscious; as also of the Sultan, who, though informed that the vengeance of his subjects had placed his crown and life in danger, yet, in all the consciousness of security, had not ceased for a single day to appear in public, in the streets and public places where the population is in greatest number;—that population which our Ministers pretended to believe was watching the first favourable occasion to depose or assassinate him. He never failed to pray at the stated hours in the mosque, where the plotting Ulemas and the fanatical Softas explained or studied the Koran. Not only no insult was offered to him in word, act, or perhaps thought; but his Highness was on all occasions received with the same respect, reverence, and affection which Abdul-Medjid, ever since his accession to the throne, has proved himself deserving of.
The fleets having gone up for a special service, which they were not called upon to perform, the next question was, what was to be done with them, and where they should go next? An extract from the despatch of M. Drouyn de Lhuys to Count Walewski, of 4th September, shows the anxiety of the French Government to get as quickly as possible out of the awkward position in which their assent to that contemptible policy placed them. The French minister took up the matter with courage, and like a man of business:—“The question now is to determine as to the employment of our naval forces. The Emperor is of opinion that our fleet is destined to play an important part in the defence of the Ottoman empire. It might serve to cover Constantinople, and to operate, if necessary, on the western coast of the Black Sea, as far up as Varna,” &c. This plan was not, however, executed. Some difficulty arose on the part of Austria and Prussia, and these powers did not think, notwithstanding the intended massacre of the Christians and the deposition of the Sultan, that the appearance of the combined forces in the Bosphorus, much less their entry into the Black Sea, was sufficiently called for. Whether right or wrong, their influence arrested the further proceedings, which, if we are to credit M. Drouyn de Lhuys, had been already contemplated by the Emperor of the French. The fleets of France and England remained, therefore, in a state of inactivity near the Golden Horn, and negotiations again commenced. New collective notes were drawn up, and the idea of another quadruple intervention, with, of course, a view to a pacific solution, was again revived. The prospect grew brighter. The inexorable Czar appeared to take pity on our Cabinet; to smile graciously on the minister of the “beau rôle,” the gentle and confiding friend of Nesselrode. The Emperor of Russia, whose preparations were not as yet complete, showed a disposition to treat; and, false throughout, gave assurances that he would not assume the offensive on any point. “Our latest intelligence,” says M. Drouyn de Lhuys, so recently as the 15th December—“our latest intelligence from St Petersburg is to the effect that Russia is resolved to treat, and, above all, to adopt no offensive measures, and our confidence in this may suffice to explain the inactivity of the fleets.” But the pacific declarations of Russia, which we fear M. Castelbajac too readily believed, were but the cloak under which the attack on the Turkish squadron of Sinope, and the massacre which followed, were concealed. With such a deed perpetrated at so short a distance from the spot where the flags of England and France were floating together, the fleets could not linger any more in the Bosphorus. They entered the Black Sea, and what was termed a policy of action commenced. Prussia and Austria were startled from their propriety, but they still followed on in the pursuit of that peace which, when nearest, always eluded their grasp,—and
“Like the circle bounding earth and skies,
Allures from far, yet, as they follow, flies.”
The attitude of France and England became more decided, and at length, after much hesitation, the Russian ambassadors were recalled from Paris and London.
In the course of the long operation which preceded the rupture of diplomatic relations, the judgment of M. Drouyn de Lhuys appeared nowhere to greater advantage than in the accuracy with which he divined and unmasked the real designs of the Czar in the matter of the Holy Shrines, while our noble Premier looked on credulous and confiding. The anger of the Czar, so much out of proportion to the offence, had, to be sure, something suspicious in it, and to the uninitiated or unsuspecting was utterly inexplicable. M. Drouyn de Lhuys knew well the cause of that immense wrath. It was not on account of the miserable squabbles of Latin and Greek monks that vast bodies of troops traversed the plains of southern Russia, that stores sufficient for an immense army and for a long campaign were accumulated in the magazines of Odessa, and that vast preparations were made at Sebastopol.
The absorbing interest which attached to events in western Europe since the revolution of 1848—the revolution which had convulsed nearly every Continental state—had occupied the public mind to the exclusion of everything else; and Russia availed herself of the storm which raged everywhere, except in her own territory, to realise her aggressive projects. Her political and religious influence had long been paramount at Constantinople. The arrival of M. de Lavalette first threatened to disturb that monopoly. Indeed, any allusion, however slight, to the capitulation of 1741, instantly alarmed Russia; and Prince Menschikoff, finding that the secret of the Czar was discovered, hastened to present his ultimatum, with all the aggravating and insulting circumstances already known. The French Government explained at length to the Cabinet of St Petersburg the motives and the extent of the French demands with reference to the Holy Places; but the Head of the Orthodox Church refused to listen—he would bear no rival in the East. “There is established,” said M. Drouyn de Lhuys in his despatch of the 21st March to General Castelbajac, “an important political usage in Europe. It consists in this, that the Powers interest themselves in common in certain general interests, and overcome, by means of their diplomacy, difficulties which at another period could only be terminated by force of arms. Be so good, then, General, as to demand of M. de Nesselrode if the Cabinet of St Petersburg, repudiating the principle which has prevailed for thirty years in the relations of the great Powers with each other, means to constitute itself the sole arbiter of the destinies of Turkey, and if for that common policy, to which the world is indebted for its repose, Russia means to substitute a policy of isolation and domination which would necessarily constrain the other Cabinets in the approaching crisis to consult only their own interests, and to act only with a view to their private views.” Russia did not choose to comprehend the full significance of that intimation; and though she herself had often been among the first to solicit a European combination when there appeared a chance of her deriving advantage from it, she yet haughtily rejected the proposal when it crossed, or did not promote, her ambition. Her great object was to treat with Turkey without the intervention of a third party; and it was the arrogant manner in which she met the advances of the Western Powers, or rather forbade them to meddle in what she regarded as a domestic quarrel between a vassal and his master, that attracted general attention to the question, and gave it a European character. We find no point more strongly insisted on by M. Drouyn de Lhuys, in his despatches to General Castelbajac, than not permitting Russia to assume this exclusive right of dictating her will on the Oriental question. It is superfluous to say that France had no intention of excluding her from a fair share; but beyond that she would not go. Fearing the probability of a cordial union between England and France—an event which, so long as Lord Aberdeen directed the affairs of state, he would not believe possible—the whole force of the Emperor’s policy was directed to prevent it, or break it off if it had been already formed. Heretofore the Czar had fully approved the conduct of his noble friend, and we find more than once, in the papers laid before Parliament, the warm expression of imperial gratitude. Happy minister! It falls to the lot of few to be enabled to boast of such certificates of conduct as those from Louis Philippe in 1846, and from Nicholas in 1853. It is true that the excellent qualities so much admired rendered it easy for a hypocrite to overreach, and an overbearing despot to insult, England. The English and French alliance must be broken off at any cost. The insults to the French Emperor, and the French people, were still ringing in the ears of the public. The impertinencies of two members of the Aberdeen Cabinet—the wriggling of miserable sycophancy which met with the contempt it merited—when alluding to the ruler of France, were fresh in the memory of all. The invasion fever had not been entirely allayed; the old suspicions of the insincerity of the French Government, and the jealousies and hatreds which had been dormant, might again be roused. France must be isolated, and the partisans of the Orleans family, the “Fusionists,” or by whatever nickname they are known, already exulted in the shame which they invoked at the hand of a foreign despot on their own country. The Chancellor of the Russian Empire brought all his ability to the task. He accused France of ambition, and reproached her with being the cause of the quarrel by her conduct in the question of the Holy Places. The point was a sore one, as, however disingenuously it was revived by Russia, it was nevertheless a fact that the quarrel followed hard on the demands of M. de Lavalette. M. de Nesselrode, with true Muscovite candour, omitted to add that he himself had expressed his satisfaction and approbation of the fair and honourable manner in which the French Government had brought that question to an issue. That account had been finally closed. A considerable portion of the despatches of M. Drouyn de Lhuys is taken up with a refutation of those charges, and it is admitted on all hands that his refutation of them is satisfactory and complete. With the history of Russian aggression for the last century before us, the charge of ambition against another power was strange in the mouth of a Russian minister. But the capitulation of 1741, which confirmed the previous immunities of the Latin communion in the East, were not, after all, of a nature to offend or alarm any one. The sort of protectorate which they established, was not menacing to any power in Europe, inasmuch as they applied to establishments which were under the protection of all alike; whilst the Greek protectorate was of the most exclusive character, and, as has been shown in a previous article, was not religious, but political, and aimed at placing the whole Ottoman Empire at the feet of Russia.
Another point which M. Drouyn de Lhuys has handled successfully, is that which relates to the difference in the measures adopted in common by France and England, when affairs reached a most alarming point, and those which Russia, in the impatience of her ambition, adopted, at the very outset. In the despatch of the 11th June, General Castelbajac is enjoined to apprise the Russian Government of the position in which it was about to place itself with respect to the rest of Europe; to warn it that it was grievously mistaken if it counted upon allies in the realisation of its designs, and particularly upon the German states. Indeed, it was not probable that these states would see with indifference the Lower Danube in the possession of a powerful government, which might at will obstruct its navigation, and at any moment block up a commercial outlet of so much importance. The French Minister clearly showed that the conduct of Russia was in opposition to the general interests of Europe; and that the realisation of the doctrines of the Russian Chancellor meant, in point of fact, the subjugation of the weaker states to the will of one great power. The replies of M. de Nesselrode are, of course, replete with the same pacific declarations which had produced so soporific an effect on our own Government, and with solemn denials of ambitious views, which present a curious contrast with the warlike preparations which were never for a moment suspended except by difficulties independent of the will of Russia. It was soon seen that, coûte qui coûte, Russia was determined not to give way. Smooth and hypocritical, like a thief at the bar, who profits by the scantiness of the evidence at first brought against him, earnestly to protest his innocence, she became bold, insolent, and defying, like the same culprit when accumulated proofs leave no doubt of his guilt. There are some despatches that have not been inserted in the Moniteur, but we have little doubt that the omitted ones are not less moderate, less firm, and not less characterised by good sense and dignity, than those we have noticed; and if any such doubt existed, the ultimatum, which was at once followed by a complete rupture of diplomatic relations, would suffice to remove it. Towards the close of December all was over. The massacre of Sinope had taken place, and no further hope remained of obtaining any satisfactory result from a power which, in its diplomacy as its hostility, appeared to have all at once lost every sentiment of truth, justice, and humanity. The autograph letter of the Emperor Napoleon is little more than a summary of the despatch of the 25th December, of the notes addressed to M. de Kisseleff before his departure from Paris, and of the last letter of M. Drouyn de Lhuys to the French ambassador at St Petersburg.
We believe the Emperor of Russia to have been led into his present difficult position—a position from which escape, unless through a disastrous war, seems almost impossible—by the erroneous information he received with respect to the state of public feeling in France and England, from “antiquated imbecilities” of both countries. In ordinary times it would be no easy task to so impose on any person of intelligence, even much inferior to that of the Emperor Nicholas; and his facility of belief in the present instance can only be explained by the social and political complications supposed to exist in a country which has gone through so many violent changes. Under the regime of Louis Philippe, the female diplomatists of the Rue St Florentin were enabled to ascertain with accuracy, and communicate with fidelity, the secret policy of the Tuileries. In the Russian salons of Paris, the centre of the more important espionage, were nightly assembled ministers, ex-ministers, functionaries past and present, and, in fine, all who, in official parlance, were supposed to represent France. The secrets, the gossip, the scandal of every political coterie in the capital, were discharged, there, as in one common reservoir; and were thence transmitted for the information, or amusement, of the Imperial Court of Russia. The ministers of the citizen-king were too eager to propitiate the favour of the northern Court, to withhold their confidence from any of the Czar’s agents, official or non-official. The revolution of February rudely interfered with that machinery, directed by a well-known intrigante. Attendance at a half-dozen saloons no longer sufficed to obtain a knowledge of the state of the country. Whilst a dozen dowagers of the old schools, and as many retired, discontented, or broken-down statesmen, and a few amateur republicans, were indulging in reveries of a restoration, or the re-establishment of a convention, with its appendages of committees of public safety, the dream was broken by the acclamations of millions, who bestowed absolute power on the only man capable of saving them. The Cabinet of St. Petersburg could not be expected to know more about the country than those who had for so many years administered its affairs. The agents of Russia beheld the struggle that had been going on so long among political coteries, the selfish disputes of discarded placemen, and their ephemeral and hollow reconciliations; and they supposed that, because adventurers quarrelled, or political coteries made war on each other, the nation was similarly divided. The diplomatic communications of that period must be curious; and we confess we should like to be permitted a perusal of the confidential correspondence of the well-known diplomate in petticoats, who for so many years was the pet agent of the Czar, and for whom existence was valueless unless passed in the atmosphere of political intrigue, to which it had been so long accustomed. When speaking of confidential correspondence, we do not, of course, allude to those indecent libels penned daily in the French capital; and, we regret to say, with the knowledge, or under the superintendence, of persons who, though known for profligacy in private life, were the confidential companions and bosom friends of personages whose praises we have heard, even to satiety, for austerity of morals, and who are held up as samples of every public and private virtue. Those chroniclers of scandal spared neither sex, nor age, nor rank. The meanest agency was set to work to furnish amusement for the Cabinet of the Czar during his hours of recreation; and to record stories and anecdotes in the style and manner of Taillement des Réaux, the Œil de Bœuf, or the Chevalier de Faublas. With such unerring guides, it is no wonder that the Czar believed that the propitious moment was come. It was represented to him that the Court of Paris was more corrupt, more profligate, than that of Louis XV.; that all France was impoverished, degraded, and discontented, anxious to throw off the yoke of the Buonaparte, eager to receive a sovereign flung to it by any foreign despot; or, at all events, utterly incapable of resisting any encroachment, much less avenging any insult from abroad. The ruler of France, he was told, was overwhelmed by the difficulties that naturally encompass every government in its commencement. His declaration of the pacific policy of the empire was but the unwilling avowal of his weakness, and of his fears. The agitation of political parties, he believed, ruined the country, though, since 1789, political intrigues, secret societies, and conspiracies never were more powerless than at the moment we speak of. The agents who thus instructed the Emperor of Russia crowned those reports by depicting Louis Napoleon as apathetic, because they saw him calm; as hesitating and timid, because they saw him patient and moderate.