Anonymous

THE REIGN OF VICTORIA (continued).

Winter of '55—Napoleon's Shiftiness—Visit of the Czar to the Crimea—State of the British Army—Sufferings of the French—Destruction of Sebastopol—The Armistice—Signs of Peace—Views of Austria and Russia—And of the Emperor Napoleon—Britain acquiesces in Peace-Walewski's Circular—Austria proposes Peace—Buol's Despatch—Nesselrode's Circular—The Austrian Ultimatum—Russia gives way—The Congress fixed at Paris—The Representatives of the Powers—The Queen's Speech—Speeches of Clarendon and Palmerston—Views in the German Diet—Meeting of the Congress—The Armistice—An Imperial Speech—The Sultan's Firman—Prussia admitted to the Congress—Birth of the Prince Imperial—The Treaty signed—Its Terms—Bessarabia and the Principalities—The Three Conventions—The Treaty of Guarantee—Count Walewski's Four Subjects—The Declaration of Paris—International Arbitration mooted—The Kars Debate—Debates on the Peace—General Rejoicings—Cost of the War—Execution of the Treaty—The Principalities—The two Bolgrads—First Presentation of the Victoria Cross.

THE expedition to Kinburn, the destructive raid of the Allies into Taman and Fanagoria, the unfruitful marches and counter-marches from Eupatoria towards Simpheropol, closed the military operations of 1855. The French—who had taken military possession of the beautiful valley of Baidar, and had pushed their outposts to the summits of the ridges leading towards the Belbek—withdrew to the inner slopes, and contented themselves with watching the main roads, both towards the north and towards the east and south. The Sardinians remained in their old quarters. French divisions still occupied the mamelons covering the bridge over the Tchernaya, supported by their own and the British cavalry. The Highlanders were above Kamara, but the bulk of the British army was on the plateau in the old position. There, also, was at least one-half of the French, including the Imperial Guard, who, however, embarked early in the month of November for France. In the course of November 18,000 French troops went home, and they were relieved by fresh troops amounting to 11,162. But the British Cabinet had learnt with dismay that Napoleon had decided upon withdrawing 100,000 men from the Crimea; further, that the Parisians were demanding that France should be compensated for her losses by advantages in Northern Italy, or the left bank of the Rhine. Obviously no dependence could be placed upon an uncertain ally and a shifty monarch.

NAPOLEON III.

(From a Photograph by Messrs. W. and D. Downey.)

Although the Allies in December had upwards of 200,000 men in the Crimea—the French alone boasted of 141,476 men—undoubtedly a longing for peace had sprung up in some quarters soon after the fall of Sebastopol. This the Russians knew. Confident, therefore, that the Allies would not undertake any large operation, and knowing winter to be at hand, they held their ground. Moreover, their Emperor had visited his gallant army. Quitting St. Petersburg in September, soon after the fall of his cherished city in the south—the stepping-stone from Nicolaief to Constantinople—he proceeded to Moscow. In his addresses to his army he still imitated the language of his father; and, while he praised his gallant soldiers as they deserved to be praised, while he frankly confessed that Russia had been severely tried, he boldly claimed for his cause the support of the Deity, and declared his steadfast resolve to defend orthodox Russia, who had taken up arms for the cause of Christianity. After another visit to Odessa, the Czar, passing through Nicolaief, went forward by Perekop to Simpheropol, where he arrived on the 8th of November. To reach his army he had travelled sixteen hundred miles through his own territory, and had been nearly two months on the road. By the 12th of November he had reviewed the army in the Crimea, looked on the ruins of Sebastopol, the wrecks of his fleet, the camps of his enemies. No doubt his presence cheered the soldiers who had borne so much at his bidding. For those who had defended the lines of Todleben he provided a silver medal, to be worn at the button-hole with the ribbon of St. George. The medal bore the names of Nicholas and Alexander, and, said the Czar to his soldiers, "I am proud of you, as he was.... In his name, and in my own, I once more thank the brave defenders of Sebastopol." But in spite of his pride in his soldiers, the heart of the Czar must have been sad, for he was a kindly man, and the aggressive policy of his father—the consequences of which he could not escape—had cost Russia 500,000 men. The Czar returned to St. Petersburg by rapid journeys, arriving there on the 19th of November. The Czar had seen for himself; and when he reached his capital on the Neva he was, perhaps, in a better frame of mind for receiving those peace propositions which Austria was already seeking to frame.

The Allies had begun to make ample preparations for the winter. The weather in 1855-6 was very different from that which had beset them twelve months before. They also were differently situated: they were triumphant, and in a secure position. They had the resources of Sebastopol, in wood and stone at least, wherewith to defend themselves against the cold and the rain. They had huts and plenty of tents. The British had abounding supplies of the warmest clothes of all kinds, and most ample rations—fresh meat and bread three days a week, and pork and biscuit on the other days. The troops had plenty of time for drill, though they were still called upon to perform hard work in road-making. Thus they were employed all day, without being overworked. Their health was so good, that during this winter the average of the sick was lower than among the troops at home. Some regiments did not lose a man—some were less fortunate; but the most afflicted regiments did not lose more than two per cent., and it was rare indeed that the sick exceeded four per cent. of the whole force. No army was ever more cared for, or thrived more under good treatment. And so it really grew stronger as the weeks glided away, until, when the spring came, Sir William Codrington had under his orders a healthy, well-drilled force of 70,000 men, ready for any enterprise, and well provided with all those means and appliances which were wanting in 1854.

Not so our French Allies. Their system broke down. Their losses from typhus in the first three months of 1856 are something fearful to contemplate. An epidemic broke out in the French camp in January, and from that time to the end of March 40,000 Frenchmen died from disease. More than 5,000 died in the transports or men-of-war on their way from the Crimea to the Bosphorus. In the Crimean hospitals their men died at the rate of between 200 and 250 per day. In the hospitals on the Bosphorus the rate was hardly less. The effective force of the French army on February 1st was 143,000 men. On the 30th of March it was 120,000, of whom only 92,000 were present under arms. These figures are official, showing a loss in two months of 23,000 men, and they do not account for 28,000 men not present under arms. But the other returns, on which the statement of the vast losses mentioned are based, are also official, with this advantage, that the latter are medical, the former military returns, such as it was deemed inexpedient to make public. Throughout the war the French understated their losses from disease and defective arrangements. In 1854-5 they suffered nearly as much as the British; but there was no free press in France, and no free Parliament, to make known the sufferings and privations of the soldiers.

In the meantime, both British and French were engaged in blowing up the forts, docks, basins, and barracks in Sebastopol. The work had been divided between the two. The French took the northern half of the docks, the English the southern. These works were so solidly constructed and so vast that their destruction required almost as much skill as their construction. The engineers of each nation, however, rivalled each other in expedients, and in the application of scientific principles to the end in view. The whole of the work on the docks was completed on the 1st of February. Fort Nicholas was blown up on the 4th, and Fort Alexander on the 11th of the same month; and similar processes afterwards laid low the aqueduct which brought the water of the Tchernaya into the docks and the great barracks and storehouses in the marine suburb. The Russian fire, though brisk at times, and often accurate, did not interrupt the labours of the French and British engineers. By these means the offensive character of Sebastopol was cut up by the roots, for it was as a great war-port and arsenal that it was a "standing menace," and at the end of February it had ceased to be.

On the 28th of February news reached the allied camps that the Governments sitting in Paris, London, and St. Petersburg had just agreed to a suspension of hostilities until March 31st. In the course of the day the French and British generals were officially informed of the fact by their Governments. The next day the chiefs of the staffs of the three armies—General Martimprey, General Windham, and Colonel Petikti—met General Timovief at the Bridge of Traktir on the Tchernaya, and there these officers debated the limits which it would be desirable to fix as military frontiers. Thus, just as the weather was becoming suitable for field operations, the diplomatists managed to chain up the armies, and having got the representatives of the belligerents round a table at Paris, they contrived to bring all parties to an agreement, and bring about a peace. How that was accomplished we have now to learn.

In the early part of the winter of 1855 there were two Powers—Austria and Russia—eager, and one—France—willing to conclude a peace as soon as possible. Austria was eager for peace, because another year of war must have brought her into the field as a belligerent. She could not hope that the theatre of operations would remain restricted to a corner of the Crimea, nor, indeed, to the whole of the Crimea; for she knew that if the war went on, the troops of the Allies would appear either in Southern or Western Russia. The contest could not go on without raising the question of Poland as well as Finland; and if the former question were raised, Austria must take one side or the other. Her engagements with the Allies, her political necessities, forbade her taking part with Russia. Yet she was barely prepared to act against her, and would have done so only with the greatest reluctance. Yet, as will be seen, under certain conditions and contingencies she did make up her mind to cast in her lot frankly with the Allies. But what she really wanted was peace, for war to her was not only full of political dangers, but threatened her with something like financial ruin. Russia was eager for peace, because she had lost so much by war. The drain of adult males was enormous. The drain upon the southern provinces for transport, for horses and cattle, for carts and waggons, was prodigious. The harvests of Southern Russia and the forage went the same road. Nor was it only men and transport and food which had been used up with astonishing prodigality, first by the Emperor Nicholas, and then by his son, to whom he bequeathed that fatal legacy, a devouring war. The Russian treasury was empty, and although the credit of Russia had always been good, still, capitalists were shy, and money was hard to obtain, could not be obtained, even on terms very unfavourable to the borrower. In these circumstances, and looking to the energetic preparations of Britain by land and sea, Russia saw that she could not gain anything, and probably would lose greatly on all sides, if she were exposed to another year of war.

On the other side, France was willing to make peace. The Emperor had gained all that he wanted out of the war. He had displayed the eagles of the Empire in the face of Europe. He had won glory. Sebastopol had given to France a military duke. The war had raised France, as Frenchmen phrased it at the time, to the foremost rank among nations. The Emperor had figured in war as an ally of Britain. He had visited the Queen at Windsor, and had taken his place in the chapel of St. George's as a Knight of the Garter. Moreover, and this was not the least gratifying fact, Britain had played a secondary part in the Crimea, and she had suffered a blow from the effects on Persia and Hindostan of the fall of Kars. The Emperor, it is true, was a faithful ally, and did not spare his army in the common cause. That must be put down to his credit, although nobody thinks of claiming credit for Britain because she also was a faithful, not to say a subservient ally. But, as no one can fail to see, at the close of 1855 the Emperor had gained all he could gain by the British alliance, and peace would conduce most to his interest, especially a peace signed at Paris. He did not like to see the development of the material power of Great Britain, which was fast outstripping him at sea. He did not wish to witness the destruction of the maritime fortresses of Russia, still less to hear that a British army had expelled Russia from Georgia. He thought that he could make friends with Russia. In the previous November he had taken the extreme course of concerting terms of peace with Austria without consulting Britain, and was only partially deterred from these tortuous courses by the vigorous remonstrance of Lord Palmerston, addressed to the French Ambassador, in which the Prime Minister declared that Britain would sooner continue the war alone than accept unsatisfactory conditions.

The British Government and the British people were not so ready or willing to make peace. The real strength of the British power was only just beginning to tell. Its armaments, by land and sea, were only just acquiring bulk and organisation. A strong feeling was very generally held that the task of curbing the aggressive ambition and checking the greed of Russia, which the Allies had undertaken, was only half completed. There was a desire to see Russia expelled from Asia Minor and from Finland, and to weaken if not overthrow her in Poland, as well as to expel her from the Crimea, and root up the mighty establishments with which she menaced Turkey. In this feeling there was some reason. But the statesmen charged with the conduct of the war could not forget that, although it would have been just to take that opportunity of diminishing the vast power of the Czar, yet that the primary object of the war was the safeguarding of European interests, so seriously menaced in the Black Sea and the Baltic, and that, providing Russia could be brought to agree to terms securing the safeguards required, it would be expedient to bring the war to an end. They felt the impossibility of securing the prolonged co-operation of France, and the folly of continuing the struggle without her. The British Government, therefore, was induced to consider terms of peace, and the people acquiesced with sullen reluctance. Neither wanted war for the sake of war, or glory for the sake of glory; nor did either want victories to augment or secure the moral influence of their country in the affairs in Europe. The reluctance to make peace was due solely to a gnawing sense that the ambition of Russia had been only partially restrained. In reality, the injury done to the enemy was greater than the British people believed it to be; but in the winter of 1855 they did not know how deeply the blows of the Allies had struck.

It must not, however, be supposed that either of the belligerents allowed any of the symptoms of their desire for peace to be seen. The lateness of the season accounted for the languid operations of the Allies after the fall of Sebastopol. The resolve of the Czar to cling to the north side of that fortress covered his weakness; and the success of Mouravieff in Armenia allowed him even to boast that his gains were equal to those of the Allies. On the surface there was every sign that the war would go on in the spring more extensively than ever; for not only had the British prepared hundreds of gun and mortar boats for service in the Baltic—not only had the British Government raised and drilled a German legion numbering 17,000 men, and a Turkish contingent under British officers, 20,000 strong, but Austria had increased her army, and the Allies held frequent councils of war in Paris, with the object of settling plans of campaigns for 1856. It is true that the Emperor of the French had made a remarkable speech, as early as the 15th of November, in which he gave some hints that peace would not be unacceptable. The occasion was the closing of the Paris Exposition of 1855, an imitation of the London Exhibition of 1851. Such a gathering in the midst of war the Emperor regarded as a great example, and as a sign that the war was held to be dangerous only to those who had been its cause, and by others as a pledge of independence and security. "Tell your countrymen," he continued—and this is the point of the speech—"that, if they wish for peace, they must at least openly express their wishes for or against us; for, in the midst of a great European conflict, indifference is a bad speculation, and silence is a mistake." These sentiments told upon Germany. In order to clinch the effect of these remarks, which were at once an overture and a threat, Count Walewski was directed to inform all the Courts by circular that the Emperor meant what he said; that he desired peace, and that the neutral Powers could help powerfully in bringing it about by openly expressing their opinions in the actual crisis. There was, therefore, a crisis; and the crisis involved peace or a continuance of the war.

The Allies had resolved not to make any overtures themselves—that is, any direct overtures. There was nothing in the public language of Lord Palmerston, at this time, at all like that which we have seen in the language of the French Emperor. The British Premier spoke of obtaining the objects of the war, and so did every public speaker not opposed to the war from the beginning. It was the French Emperor who hinted that it was time for some neutral to step in and suggest peace. In these circumstances Austria, who understood the situation, stepped in to propose peace. She set her diplomatists to work, and sounded both sides, but more especially sought to extract from the Allies the terms on which they would agree to a peace. As the French Emperor was so well disposed to come to terms, this was not difficult; but he still had to shape his course so as not to endanger the British alliance, from which he had not yet derived all the advantages it contained for him. The Emperor, however, had only to allow his inclination to be felt, and then to drift, or appear to drift, along the current of British views. Ostensibly the Western Powers were not engaged in any negotiations for peace; but in reality they did entertain the proposals of Austria, and gave a general assent to the terms which that Power undertook to send to St. Petersburg; and this for the sound reason that it would have been useless for Austria to press upon Russia the acceptance of terms to which the Western Powers would not agree.

The Austrian Government selected Count Valentine Esterhazy to carry on this delicate negotiation with the Cabinet of St. Petersburg. He took his instructions direct from the Emperor Francis Joseph, and they were formally embodied in a despatch written by Count Buol on the 16th of December. To his despatch he annexed the "four points" or indispensable preliminaries, set forth at some length, so as to avoid the chance of a misunderstanding; but substantially they were these:—1. That the Russian protectorate in the Danubian Principalities should be completely abolished, and that these principalities should receive such an organisation as might be suited to their wants and interests, to be recognised by the Powers, and sanctioned by the Sultan as suzerain. That, in exchange for the strong places and territories occupied by the allied Powers, Russia should consent to the "rectification" of her frontier with Turkey in Europe. 2. That the freedom of the Danube and its mouths should be secured efficaciously. 3. That the Black Sea should be open to merchant ships, and closed to war ships—except a limited number for coast service—and consequently that no naval or military arsenals should be created or maintained there. 4. That the immunities of the Christian subjects of the Porte should be secured without infringing the independence of the Sultan. To these was added a fifth, of great moment, as it was, in a measure, the touchstone of Russian sincerity. It was this:—"The belligerent Powers reserve to themselves the right which appertains to them of producing in European interest special conditions over and above the four guarantees." These were tolerably stringent conditions; and it was easy to see that the fifth, so indefinite in its nature, would test the sincerity of Russia to the uttermost.

Count Esterhazy arrived in St. Petersburg on the 24th of December. During his journey a very singular incident had occurred. The Cabinet of Russia had either guessed, or had been duly informed of, the nature of the trial to which they would be subjected. The probability is, that the Austrian Court gave the requisite information unofficially to Count Nesselrode. That astute politician was not long in making use of the opportunity. On the 22nd of December, while Count Esterhazy was journeying through Russian Poland, Count Nesselrode despatched a circular, embodying terms of peace to which his Government would agree. This was an adroit manoeuvre, as it gave to Russia the appearance of dictating terms of peace. In this document it was laid down that Russia had always desired peace; that it was not her fault, but the fault of the Allies, that peace had not been made in 1855; and that the wish for a prompt and durable peace openly expressed by the Emperor Napoleon was the dearest wish of the Emperor Alexander. Russia had, in the summer of 1855, accepted the four points as a basis, and still accepted them; but they were susceptible of different interpretations. As long as his enemies appeared resolved to substitute the right of might for the spirit of justice, the Czar felt bound to remain silent; but as soon as his Majesty learned that his enemies were disposed to resume the negotiations for peace, he did not hesitate to meet them; and he was willing to put the most liberal interpretation on the third point, relating to the so-called neutralisation of the Black Sea. The liberal interpretation put by Russia on this point was that no war-ships should enter the Black Sea except those which, by a separate agreement between Russia and Turkey, those Powers should think proper to retain.

The Austrian Envoy was indeed the bearer of something more than conditions. He carried in his pocket instructions which amounted to a menace Russia could not afford to despise. If he did not obtain an acceptance of his conditions within a limited time, he was to quit St. Petersburg, taking with him the whole of the Austrian Legation. On the 27th he saw Count Nesselrode, read to him the despatch of Count Buol, and handed in the paper of conditions. The Russian Cabinet fought hard against the conditions. They wished to modify this Austrian ultimatum—for such was its real character—and thus sustain that claim to independent action put forward by Count Nesselrode on the 22nd of December. They wished to make the Allies accept Kars and the surrounding country for Sebastopol, Kertch, Kinburn, Eupatoria, the Black Sea, and the Sea of Azoff, and parts of Mingrelia and Imeritia. They wished to avoid the unforeseen demands that might lurk in the fifth point. They desired to hold fast to the left bank of the Danube, and keep the Isle of Serpents. But the Czar was made aware that he could look for no aid from any German Power. France and Britain had just concluded an offensive and defensive alliance with Sweden under certain conditions very adverse to Russia; and the Czar, like the rest of the world, knew it. Sardinia was certain to act with the Western Powers as long as the war lasted. Even Prussia was drifting towards the Western Powers. Britain was just acquiring that strength which would enable her blows to tell in another campaign. This the Czar knew also, and, moreover, he knew that France would do everything to make the terms of the treaty as little distasteful as possible. To crown all, the Austrian Government demanded an unconditional acceptance of the five points, the alternative being an instant rupture of diplomatic relations. Count Esterhazy was forbidden to discuss the contents of the ultimatum. He had simply to demand an answer, yes or no. Russia first sent an answer to Vienna; but as it was not a categorical reply, but a series of counter-propositions, Count Buol told the Russian Minister at Vienna that, unless the ultimatum were accepted on or before the 18th of January, the whole of the Austrian Embassy would quit St. Petersburg without a moment's delay.

This was a great deal to bear. The Russian Government delayed their answer until nearly the last moment. The time for decision allowed to them by Austria had not quite expired before the Czar made up his mind. The public anxiety in every capital of Europe was extreme; but while on the Continent the anxiety was for an affirmative, in England there was a sort of dread lest an affirmative answer should proceed from the cabinet of the Czar. Three weeks had passed away in these negotiations on the Neva. On the 16th of January, 1856, Count Nesselrode informed the Austrian Envoy that the Czar had given way. Russia had complied with the demand of Austria, and had given her unconditional assent to the Austrian ultimatum. This was Count Buol's greatest triumph. The next day the fact was known in every capital in Europe.

There was another triumph in store for the Emperor Napoleon. When Russia had accepted the Austrian proposals, it became necessary to determine where the Conference or Congress of the treaty-making Powers should be held. This occasioned some little difficulty. There was a talk of Brussels and Dresden; and it was said that London, Paris, and Vienna were out of the question. There is little doubt now that it was intended the Congress should be held in Paris. The Governments took to paying each other compliments. France suggested London, and Britain suggested Paris. Russia, for good reasons of her own, settled the amicable dispute by adopting the suggestion of Britain. Therefore, it was in Paris, where famous peaces had been made, that this peace was to be made. Then came another question. Who should sit at this European council? Prussia put in a claim based on her share in determining the Czar to yield. But—independently of the fact that Prussia had all along acted like an ally of Russia, and had only taken engagements hostile to Russia on behalf of German interests, and therefore would enter the Congress as a friend of Russia—Prussia had really no right at all to sit with the belligerent Powers, because she had separated from them in the summer of 1855. Therefore Prussia was not invited to the Paris Congress. The other Power whose right was for a moment questioned, but only for a moment, was Sardinia. But Sardinia was a belligerent. One of the inducements which led her to take an active part in the war was the opportunity of showing herself as a European Power. For that she had incurred the expense and the risk. Therefore she was admitted, with the reluctant assent of Austria. The Powers to be represented at the Congress, therefore, were Britain, France, Austria, Sardinia, Turkey, and Russia. Each Power sent a special plenipotentiary, and each plenipotentiary was to be assisted by the resident ambassador. The British plenipotentiary was the Earl of Clarendon, assisted by Earl Cowley; France was represented by Count Walewski and Baron de Bourqueney; Austria sent the cautious and much-pondering Count Buol and the clever Baron HÜbner; Sardinia confided her interests to her greatest statesman, Count Cavour, whose second was the Marquis of Villa-marina; Turkey was present in the person of Aali Pasha, one of her ablest men, and Mehemed Djemil Bey; the Czar sent his father's friend, Count Orloff, and Baron Brunnow, cool, astute, and experienced. Some time elapsed before these men—some of them travelling from the extremities of Europe—could reach Paris; and before they could meet there was an important step to take. It is usual to frame a preliminary treaty. In this case, to save time and avoid the chances of discord, it was agreed, at a meeting of the Ministers of France, Britain, Austria, Russia, and Turkey, at Vienna, on the 1st of February, that they should sign a protocol, recording the acceptance of the Austrian proposals by Russia as a basis of peace, and that this should be regarded as a preliminary treaty. It was further agreed that the Congress should open at Paris on the 26th of February.

The British Parliament was opened by Queen Victoria in person on the 31st of January. The public were not certain that the signs of peace could be depended on. They were doubtful of the sincerity of Russia; they were eager to hear the explanations of Ministers. The Queen's Speech was anxiously awaited—the more anxiously because the contents were not permitted to appear in the newspapers of the morning. While determined to prosecute the war with vigour, her Majesty said she deemed it her duty not to decline any reasonable overture promising peace. "Accordingly," she continued, "when the Emperor of Austria lately offered to myself and to my august ally, the Emperor of the French, to employ his good offices with the Emperor of Russia, with a view to endeavour to bring about an amicable adjustment of the matters at issue between the contending Powers, I consented, in concert with my Allies, to accept the offer thus made; and I have the satisfaction to inform you that certain conditions have been agreed upon, which I hope may prove the foundation of a general treaty of peace. Negotiations for such a treaty," her Majesty added, "will shortly be opened at Paris." And she continued—"In conducting these negotiations, I shall be careful not to lose sight of the objects for which the war was undertaken; and I shall deem it right in no degree to relax my naval and military preparations until a satisfactory peace shall have been concluded."

When the Address came under debate, Lord Gosford, the mover, expressed the feeling of the country when he said he found himself reluctantly an advocate of peace. That sentiment prevailed in both Houses. There were some who, like Mr. Roebuck, gave utterance to a positive condemnation of peace. But Mr. Roebuck was only continuing his career as accuser-general. Lord Clarendon pointed out that when the Austrian Government offered its good offices to bring about a peace, the British Government could not refuse them. "However confident," he said, speaking for his colleagues, "they might have been that another campaign would have increased the military fame of England, and might have led to a treaty of a different and more comprehensive character, yet such anticipations would have been wholly unjustifiable, if they had induced us to prolong the war when a prospect appeared of obtaining the objects for which the war was undertaken." On the Continent the common belief was that the British Government was insincere. This Lord Clarendon denied in explicit terms, and there is no reason to believe he did not express the sentiment of the nation. Lord Palmerston was far more emphatic than his Foreign Secretary in repudiating the notion that Britain desired to go on with the war for the sake of glory. "No doubt," he said, "the resources of the country are unimpaired. No doubt the naval and military preparations which have been making during the past twelve months, which are now going on, and which will be completed in the spring, will place this country in a position, as regards the continuance of hostilities, in which it has not stood since the commencement of the war. We should therefore be justified in expecting that another campaign—should another campaign be forced upon us—would result in successes which might perhaps entitle us to require—perhaps enable us to obtain—even better conditions than those which have been offered to us, and have been accepted by us. But if the conditions which we now hope to obtain are such as will properly satisfy the objects for which we are contending—if they are conditions which we think it is our duty to accept, and with which we believe the country will be satisfied—then undoubtedly we should be wanting in our duty, and should not justify the confidence which the country has reposed in us, if we rejected terms of that description, merely for the chance of greater successes in another campaign." The country—that is, the judgment of the country—approved; but, as Lord Gosford said, with reluctance, much doubting whether the work undertaken had been finished. The reluctance sprang from that feeling, and by no means from a thirst for naval and military glory. The nation accepted the proposal to make peace, trusting, but not too blindly, that it would be safe and honourable; and whether it would be so remained to be seen.

In the meantime Russia, who had yielded, but yielded with misgivings, was very anxious it should be understood that she would not stand any very stringent development of that fifth point, those special conditions which the Allies had reserved their right to demand. She would not pay any indemnity to Turkey; she hoped that no one would think of prohibiting the re-fortification of the Åland Islands; she even suffered her organs to talk of keeping Kars and part of Turkish Armenia. But this was all bravado; the loud talking being intended to cover the fact that Russia had been worsted, and to make it appear that she would enter Congress as a Power proposing conditions. Prussia was very busy; very anxious to be invited to the Congress; very eager to demonstrate that it was her influence which finally induced the Czar to grant peace to Europe. Austria did not fail to submit her peace propositions to the German Diet, and to obtain the assent of that singularly-constituted and abortive political corporation. Prussia again made a bid for a seat in the Congress by supporting the proposals of Austria before the Diet; and Austria, to please the minor German Powers, dwelt on the effect of the expression of their opinions at St. Petersburg. Count Rechberg, who then represented Austria at the Diet, expressed his firm conviction that the right of proposing new conditions reserved in the fifth point would not be exercised in a sense likely to frustrate the hopes of peace. Neither Prussia nor the Diet was invited to the Congress; but this mysterious discussion of the fifth point raised doubts in the minds of the public, who were not told that the Powers had already determined that there should be no difficulties, and that peace should be made.

February had nearly passed away before the plenipotentiaries began to assemble. The Congress met on the 25th of the month, one day earlier than the time fixed upon provisionally at Vienna. It was a matter of course that Count Walewski should preside over this meeting. It is the custom for the Minister of that Sovereign to preside in whose capital a congress is held. But this was not done without a formal motion, made in this case by the Austrian Plenipotentiary, and assented to unanimously by all present. Then the Congress settled what are called the preliminaries—that is, they gave their sanction to the transaction at Vienna on the 1st of February. Next they resolved that an armistice should be concluded between the belligerents, to terminate on the 31st of March unless renewed; but not to extend to any blockade established or to be established. It was understood, however, that no hostilities should occur off the coasts of the enemy. Wherefore the British sent a light squadron again into the Baltic, but merely as a measure of precaution; and, of course, the Black Sea and Sea of Azoff remained in the hands of the Allies.

The Emperor Napoleon opened the Session of 1856 on the 4th of March. He contrasted the state of affairs, the last time he had met them—"Europe, uncertain, awaiting the issue of the struggle before taking sides"—with their state at the time he was addressing them, when the struggle for Sebastopol had been decided in favour of the Allies, and had brought Europe over to their side openly. As a "fact of high political significance"—truly, very high to him and his—he reminded his subservient hearers of the visit of "the Queen of Great Britain" to his Court, and cited it as "a proof of her confidence in and esteem for our country." He told them also of the visit of the King of Piedmont—a visit more significant, if his hearers could only have foreseen—and then he said:—"These Sovereigns beheld a country some time so disturbed and fallen from her rank in the councils of Europe, now prosperous, peaceable, and respected, making war, not with the hurried delirium of passion, but with that calm which belongs to justice, and all the energy of duty. They have seen France, which had sent 200,000 men across the sea, at the same time convoke at Paris all the arts of peace, as if she meant to say to Europe: 'The present war is but an episode for me, and my strength is always in great measure directed towards peaceful occupations. Let us neglect no opportunity of coming to an understanding, and do not force me to throw into the battlefield the whole resources and power of a great nation.'" Such was the attitude, as it is called, of the Emperor Napoleon in the spring of 1856. The alliance with Great Britain, the glories of the Crimea, the Congress of Paris, had established his throne, and had made him respectable in the eyes of his people, and for the future dreaded in Europe.

The scene in Constantinople on the 21st of February was very different from that in Paris. In the capital of Turkey there had also been a conference—a conference whereat the British, French, and Austrian Ministers had assisted the Turks in drawing up a grand Charter for the Christians. At a solemn meeting in the room of the Grand Council this charter was read. This firman is a very amazing document, promising almost more than any Government could perform. It is a sweeping Charter of civil and religious liberty, surprising to meet with in the latitude of the Bosphorus. It decreed freedom of religion, admission to the national schools and to public offices. There were to be mixed tribunals for all civil and criminal cases where the parties differed in religion, and open courts. Flogging and torture in prisons were abolished, and the use of them made penal. As all were liable to taxes, as all were placed on an equality of rights before the law, so there should be an equality of duties; and the duty of serving in the army, almost a patent of nobility in a Moslem State, became one of the duties of the Christians. In addition to these reforms, the firman provided for the improvement of the mode of collecting the taxes; for the publication of the Budget; for annual assembling of a grand council of delegates; for free trade; for the right of all to hold land. In short, it declared the resolve of the Sultan to execute very sweeping reforms in all departments of the State, and on all the great lines of public policy. Clearly this was more than an executive so weak as that of the Sultan could effect, and remained for the most part a dead letter. The Emperor of Russia did not fail to make use of this famous firman, and tell his subjects that one of the reasons that induced him to make peace was that the Sultan had granted that act of justice, the want of which led the father of the Czar to make war. These two documents—the Imperial Speech and the Sultan's firman—mark, the first, the solid establishment of the personal power of Bonaparte; the second, the most considerable step yet taken towards the full emancipation and uplifting of the Christian races in the East.

The Congress of Paris sat seven weeks, opening its proceedings, as we have seen, on the 25th of February, and closing them on the 16th of April. The first five weeks were devoted to the discussion of the articles of the treaty—indeed, they were determined on in the first month; put into final shape during the last week in March, and signed on the 30th. When the work was substantially done—that is, on the 12th of March—Prussia was at length gratified by an invitation to send plenipotentiaries, and to accede to what had been already determined on. As she had abstained from taking part in the war, Prussia could have no place in a conference assembled to settle terms of peace. But as the articles to be negotiated trenched upon treaties relating to the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles, to which Prussia was a party in 1840 and 1841, it was thought fit to invite her to accede to the conclusions adopted by the other Powers. Prussia, of course, readily accepted such a pretext for putting the names of her Ministers and her Sovereign at the foot of a European treaty; and thus on the 18th of March, at the tenth sitting of the conference, Baron Manteuffel and Baron Hatzfeld took their seats at the round table in the Hall of Ambassadors. Thus there were seven Powers represented around that green board at the closing scenes of a diplomatic conference which was so gratifying to the Emperor and all Frenchmen. Nor was this the sole piece of good fortune that befell his Majesty, for on the 16th day of March there came into the world a Prince Imperial, the only child of the marriage between Louis Napoleon Buonaparte and EugÉnie de Montijo, the bright Spanish beauty chosen by him when his overtures at imperial and royal Courts went for nought. As in duty bound, the plenipotentiaries waited on the Emperor to congratulate him, and Paris, as in duty bound, covered itself with illuminations.

It was on a Sunday afternoon, a fortnight after this event, that the treaty of peace was signed by the plenipotentiaries. The Treaty of Paris was not a very long or complicated document. It consisted of a preamble and thirty-four articles, and there were attached to it three conventions, each having the same force as the general treaty. In the preamble the six Powers declared their intention to establish and consolidate a peace "by securing, through effectual and reciprocal guarantees, the independence and integrity of the Ottoman Empire," and, further, they recorded that Prussia was invited to participate in the arrangements come to. Peace being established, Russia was to restore Kars and the country occupied by her troops in Turkish Armenia, and the Allies were to restore the towns and ports of Sebastopol, Balaclava, Kamiesch, Kertch, Yenikale, and Kinburn, and all other Russian territory occupied by them. Each Power was to grant an amnesty to those of their subjects who had been employed against them, or who had otherwise compromised themselves. This was done to meet the case of Poles who had taken service with the Allies. All prisoners of war were to be given up. The whole of the seven Powers declared formally that the Sublime Porte should be admitted to participate in the advantages of the public law and system of Europe. "Their Majesties," the treaty went on (Article VII.), "engage, each on his part, to respect the independence and territorial integrity of the Ottoman Empire; guarantee in common the strict observance of that engagement, and will, in consequence, consider any act tending to its violation as a question of general interest." If a quarrel arose between the Porte and one of the Powers, before force was resorted to, the other Powers were to have an opportunity of preventing by mediation the outbreak of war. It was then recorded that the Sultan would communicate to each Power the firman he had issued touching his Christian subjects; but it was expressly declared that this act of the Sultan did not confer on all, or any, of the Powers any right to interfere in the internal affairs of his empire. The Black Sea was "neutralised"; that is, all ships of war, with recognised exceptions, were prohibited from entering its waters, while it was to be free to the mercantile marine of every nation. The exceptions were specified in a convention between Russia and Turkey, annexed to the general treaty, and equally valid with it. By this convention the two Powers were each to maintain not more than six steamships of 800 tons, and four light vessels of 200 tons. It was also provided in the treaty that no military-maritime arsenal should be maintained by either Power on the coasts of the Black Sea. Consuls were to be admitted to any port. The navigation of the Danube was declared to be free, and a commission was to be appointed to clear the mouths, improve and regulate the navigation, and pay the expenses out of a shipping rate. Thus the Black Sea was set apart for commerce and the Danube opened to all the world. This was what, in the language of diplomacy, was called the neutralisation of the Black Sea. Russia would not admit that the terms of this treaty applied to the building-yards of Kherson and Nicolaief, or to the Sea of Azoff; but Count Orloff gave a promise, which was recorded in the protocols, that Russia would not build "anywhere on the shores of the Black Sea, or in its tributaries, or in the waters dependent on it," any ships other than those allowed by treaty. This was accepted as a binding engagement.

In order to show that the Allies did not exchange the territories held by them in return for Kars, it was expressly stated that in exchange for the ports in the Crimea held by the Allies, and the better to secure the free navigation of the Danube, Russia consented to what was absurdly called "the rectification of the frontier of Bessarabia." The new frontier was to start from the river Pruth, at a point where it was not navigable, and follow a line which would exclude Russia altogether from the Danube, and take from her the fortress of Ismail and Kilia Nova. A commission was to trace the new line, and of that we shall have to speak at a later stage, as it nearly gave rise to a renewal of the war. The remainder of the treaty provided for the future status of the Danubian Principalities. They were placed under the collective guarantee of the seven Powers. Their rights and privileges were to be secured, their laws and statutes revised, and a commission was to report on their new organisation, after taking counsel of Divans called for the purpose of expressing the wants of the people. Finally, the Sultan was to give his sanction to the new arrangements, and then the Principalities passed under the protection of the seven Powers. These were the chief stipulations of this remarkable treaty.

We have said that there were three conventions annexed to the general treaty. One we have described already. The second, signed by all the Powers, recorded the declaration of the Sultan that he would continue to prohibit the entry of ships of war into the Straits of the Dardanelles and the Bosphorus, and would not admit any so long as he was at peace; and the other Powers agreed to respect this determination of the Sultan. There were exceptions, as in the case of ships bearing ambassadors, admitted by permission of the Sultan, and of ships that the contracting Powers might send to keep watch over the mouths of the Danube. The third convention was signed by the Ministers of France, England, and Russia, and it recorded the undertaking of the Czar "that the Åland Islands shall not be fortified, and that no military or naval establishments shall be maintained or created there." We may here remark that the Allies, after the capture of Bomarsund, offered these islands to Sweden, but that Sweden, fearing to offend Russia, and apprehensive of the burden they might prove, declined the gift. The islands lie at the mouth of the Gulf of Bothnia, off the Swedish capital. It was in the interest of Sweden that this convention was made.

By this treaty and these conventions the Allies secured the object of the war, which really was the reduction of the power of Russia. They not only destroyed Sebastopol and the Black Sea fleet, they prohibited the revival of fleet or arsenal; they removed Russia from the Danube; they deprived her altogether of that exclusive protectorate over the Danubian Principalities which she had extorted from the Porte, and declared null and void that pretended protectorate over the Christian subjects of the Sultan to which Nicholas violently laid claim; they gave Turkey a collective guarantee, and they thus delivered her from the grinding pressure of Russia, and struck out of the hands of the Czar those two formidable weapons of coercion—a mighty arsenal and fleet. Without these, it was thought, an invasion of Turkey from the north would be almost impossible, and the chances of working down upon Constantinople from the east—that is, from Kars—would become very slight. Moreover, by newly organising the Principalities, the Powers provided for the growth of a national Christian State, one of a group which, when the time comes, will take the place of the Turk on the Danube, the Bosphorus, and the European shores of the Levant. In the Baltic the Allies reduced the power of the Czar, and delivered Sweden from a standing menace. So that, on the whole, the fruits of the war were considerable, though not so considerable as they might have been had the war gone on. That peace was then justly made no rational man will deny; for, although all had not been accomplished, enough had been done to meet the exigencies of the period.

With these stipulations Britain, Austria, and France were not content. They took a remarkable step. They, on the 15th of April, signed a treaty of guarantee. That is to say, they jointly and severally guaranteed the integrity and independence of the Ottoman Empire; and declared that "any infraction of the stipulations" of the general treaty, signed on the 30th of March, would be considered by these three Powers as a casus belli. This was a very strong measure; and when it became known, as it soon did, Russia, though offended at a want of confidence, saw that she must not attempt to wriggle out of the conditions she had subscribed. Nevertheless, she did, at a later period, succeed in frustrating the intention of that stipulation which removed her altogether from the Danube, and thrust back her frontier from its banks and waters.

The Congress of Paris did not restrict its attention to those points which arose directly out of the war. The Congress indeed sat for a fortnight after the peace treaty had been concluded, and took some remarkable steps. On the 8th of April, for instance, Count Walewski, as president, submitted to the Congress no fewer than four important subjects, and invited discussion. It was a rather unusual proceeding; but it showed the tendency, which afterwards became more manifest, to draw all great questions for settlement to Paris, and to bring about a sort of government of Europe by congresses. Count Walewski called for the opinions of the plenipotentiaries on the condition of Greece, Italy, and Belgium, and suggested a new declaration of maritime law. Greece had been occupied by the Allies for contumacious conduct; before the troops were withdrawn, the evils must be remedied. In Italy, France, "the eldest son of the Church," occupied Rome—that was abnormal, and the Emperor was ready to withdraw his troops as soon as he could do so without injuring the interests of the Pope—a safe promise. Count Walewski hoped Count Buol would say the same for Austria, whose troops were in the Romagna and Tuscany. Then there was a violent attack on Belgium. What Count Walewski said on this topic was that there were outspoken enemies of the Emperor in Belgium, that they abused the freedom of the press, that this might be dangerous for Belgium, and that the Powers, perhaps, would be good enough to say that Belgium must pass severe laws and repress these excesses. This was very uncalled for, not to say insolent, conduct on the part of the French Minister. Lord Clarendon and Count Cavour spoke with some freedom, and seemed to concur with Count Walewski's Italian views, joining in the blows aimed at Austria and Naples. Count Cavour, indeed, was eloquent on the subject of the Austrian occupation of the Romagna, and the very tyrannical conduct of the King of the Two Sicilies. But the other plenipotentiaries seemed to be rather taken by surprise by the French manoeuvre and said little. Even Lord Clarendon did not repel with sufficient, with any vigour, the unwarranted attack on Belgium. So that Count Walewski, in summing up the results of the conversation, could record some sort of hollow agreement as to the principles he laid down affecting Greece, Italy, and Belgium. In fact, the object of the French minister was to bring Italy bodily before the Congress, to pave the way for a policy which was to put a violent end to Austrian occupation, and leave French occupation as flourishing as it was when Count Walewski affected to lament its existence before the Congress of 1856. Italy was introduced to satisfy also the urgent demands of Count Cavour, who had already begun to meditate on plans for his country's liberation with the aid of Britain or France. Italy therefore, at the Congress of 1856, was the shadow of a coming event.

The suggested new declaration on maritime law also took the plenipotentiaries by surprise. They demanded time, but a week afterwards—namely, on the 16th of April—they agreed to a declaration which was annexed to the treaty, and understood to be binding on those who signed it and on those who might accede to it. The points solemnly set forth as for the future international law were these:—"1. Privateering is, and remains, abolished. 2. The neutral flag covers enemies' goods, with the exception of contraband of war. 3. Neutral goods, with the exception of contraband of war, are not liable to seizure under an enemy's flag. 4. Blockades, in order to be binding, must be effective—that is to say, maintained by a force sufficient really to prevent access to the coast of an enemy." This forms a great landmark in the history of belligerent and neutral rights. It marks the enlargement of neutral, and the restriction of belligerent rights; and by many it was thought that the surrender of the right to take enemies' goods wherever found would prove injurious, unless accompanied by an abolition of the right of capturing private property at sea altogether. Certainly Britain surrendered a great deal to the neutral and non-maritime Powers; and when she had done so, the greatest, the United States of America, would not accede to the declaration—would not agree to abolish privateering unless Europe agreed to abolish the right of capturing private property at sea.

SCENE DURING THE PRESTON STRIKE. (See p. 162.)