EMPIRE OF RUSSIA (continued 10)

Twelve Polish gentlemen were condemned, for being "wanting in respect to his majesty," to have their noses and ears cut off, and were then sent to perpetual Siberian exile. When any one was admitted to an audience with the tzar, it was necessary for him to fall upon his knees so suddenly and heavily that his bones would ring upon the floor like the butt of a musket. No gentle genuflexion satisfied the tzar. A prince Gallatin was imprisoned for "kneeling and kissing the emperor's hand too negligently." This contempt for humanity soon rendered Paul very unpopular. He well knew that his legitimacy was doubted, and that if an illegitimate child he had no right whatever to the throne. He seemed to wish to prove that he was the son of Peter III. by imitating all the silly and cruel caprices of that most contemptible prince.

The French Revolution was now in progress, the crushed people of that kingdom endeavoring to throw off the yoke of intolerable oppression. All the despots in Europe were alarmed lest popular liberty in France should undermine their thrones. None were more alarmed than Paul. He was so fearful that democratic ideas might enter his kingdom that he forbade the introduction into his realms of any French journal or pamphlet. All Frenchmen in his kingdom were also ordered immediately to depart. All ships arriving were searched and if any French subjects were on board, men or women, they were not permitted to land, but were immediately sent out of the kingdom. Merchants, who had left their families and their business for a temporary absence, were not permitted again to set foot in the kingdom. The suffering which this cruel edict occasioned was very great.

Day after day new decrees were issued, of ever increasing violence. The tzar became suspicious of all strangers of whatever nation, and endeavored to rear a wall of separation around his whole kingdom which should exclude it from all intercourse with other parts of Europe. The German universities were all declared to be tainted with superstition, and all Russians were prohibited, under penalty of the confiscation of their estates, from sending their sons to those institutions. No foreigner, of whatever nation, was allowed to take part in any civil or ecclesiastical service. The young Russians who were already in the German universities, were commanded immediately to return to their homes.

Apprehensive that knowledge itself, by whomsoever communicated, might make the people restless under their enormous wrongs, Paul suppressed nearly all the schools which had been founded by Catharine II., reserving only a few to communicate instruction in the military art. All books, but those issued under the surveillance of the government, were interdicted. The greatest efforts were made to draw a broad line of distinction between the people and the nobles, and to place a barrier there which no plebeian could pass. Some one informed Paul that in France the revolutionists wore the chapeau, or three-cornered hat, with one of the corners in front. The tzar immediately issued a decree that in Russia the hat should be worn with the corner behind.

We have said that Paul was bitterly hostile to all foreigners. The emigrants, however, who fled from France, with arms in their hands, imploring the courts of Europe to crush republican liberty in France, he welcomed with the greatest cordiality and loaded with favors. The princes and nobles of the French court received from Paul large pensions, while, at the same time, he ignobly made them feel that he was their master and they were his slaves. His dread of French liberty was so great, that with all his soul he entered into the wide-spread European coalition which the genius of Pitt had organized against France, and which embraced even Turkey. And now for the first time the spectacle was seen of the Russian and Turkish squadrons combining against a common foe. Paul sent an army of one hundred thousand men to coöperate with the allies. Republican France gathered up her energies to resist Europe in arms. The young Napoleon, heading a heroic band of half-famished soldiers, turned the Alps and fell like a thunderbolt into the Austrian camp upon the plains of Italy. In a series of victories which astounded the world he swept the foe before him, and compelled the Austrians to sue for peace. The embassadors of France and Germany met at Rastadt, in congress, and after spending many months in negotiations, the congress was dissolved by the Emperor of Germany, in April, 1799. The French embassadors set out to return, and were less than a quarter of a mile from the city, when a troop of Austrian hussars fell upon them, and two of their number, Roberjeot and Bonnier, were treacherously assassinated. The third, Delry, though left for dead, revived so far as to be able, covered with wounds and blood, to crawl back to Rastadt.[25]

Napoleon was at this time in Egypt, endeavoring to assail England, the most formidable foe of France, in India, the only vulnerable point which could be reached. Fifty thousand Russians, in a single band, were marching through Germany to coöperate with the Austrians on the French frontiers. The more polished Germans were astonished at the barbaric character of their allies. A Russian officer, in a freak of passion, shot an Austrian postilion, and then took out his purse and enquired of the employer of the postilion what damage was to be paid, as coolly as if he had merely killed a horse or a cow. Even German law was compelled to wink at such outrages, for an ally so essential as Russia it was needful to conciliate at all hazards. Paul deemed himself the most illustrious monarch of Europe, and resolved that none but a Russian general should lead the allied armies. The Germans, on the contrary, regarded the Russians as barbarians of wolfish courage and gigantic strength, but far too ignorant of military science to be entrusted with the plan of a campaign. After much contention the Emperor of Austria was compelled to yield, and an old Russian general, Suwarrow, was placed in command of the armies of the two most powerful empires then on the globe.

And who was Suwarrow? Behold his portrait. Born in a village of the Ukraine, the boy was sent by his father, an army officer, to the military academy at St. Petersburg, whence he entered the army as a common soldier, and ever after, for more than sixty years, he lived in incessant battles in Sweden, Turkey, Poland. In the storm of Ismael, forty thousand men, women and, children fell in indiscriminate massacre at his command. In the campaign which resulted in the partition of Poland, twenty thousand Poles were cut down by his dragoons. A stranger to fear, grossly illiterate, and with no human sympathies, he appears on the arena but as a thunderbolt of war. Next to the emperor Paul, he was perhaps the most fantastic man on the continent. In a war with the Turks he killed a large number with his own hands, and brought, on his shoulders, a sackful of heads, which he rolled out at the feet of his general. This was the commencement of his reputation.[26] His whole military career was in accordance with this act. He had but one passion, love of war. He would often, even in mid-winter, have one or two pailsful of cold water poured upon him, as he rose from his bed, and then, in his shirt, leap upon an unsaddled horse and scour the camp with the speed of the wind. Sometimes he would appear, in the early morning, at the door of his tent, stark naked, and crow like a cock. This was a signal for the tented host to spring to arms. Occasionally he would visit the hospital, pretending that he was a physician, and would prescribe medicine for those whom he thought sick, and scourgings for those whom he imagined to be feigning sickness. Sometimes he would turn all the patients out of the doors, sick and well, saying that it was not permitted for the soldiers of Suwarrow to be sick. He was as merciless to himself as he was to his soldiers. Hunger, cold, fatigue, seemed to him to be pleasures. Hardships which to many would render life a scene of insupportable torture, were to him joys. He usually traveled in a coarse cart, which he made his home, sleeping in it at night, with but the slightest protection from the weather. Whenever he lodged in a house, his aides took the precaution to remove the windows from his room, as he would otherwise inevitably smash every glass.

Notwithstanding this ostentatious display of his hatred of all luxury, he was excessively fond of diamonds and other precious stones. He was also exceedingly superstitious, ever falling upon his knees before whatever priest he might meet, and imploring his benediction. Such men generally feel that the observance of ceremonial rites absolves them from the guilt of social crimes. With these democratic manners Suwarrow utterly detested liberty. The French, as the most liberty-loving people of Europe, he abhorred above all others. He foamed with rage when he spoke of them. In the sham fights with which he frequently exercised the army, when he gave the order to "charge the miserable French," every soldier was to make two thrusts of the bayonet in advance, as if twice to pierce the heart of the foe, and a third thrust into the ground, that the man, twice bayoneted, might be pinned in death to the earth. Such was the general whom Paul sent "to destroy the impious government," as he expressed it, "which dominated over France."

With blind confidence Suwarrow marched down upon the plains of Lombardy, dreaming that in those fertile realms nothing awaited him but an easy triumph over those who had been guilty of the crime of abolishing despotism. The French had heard appalling rumors of the prowess and ferocity of these warriors of the North, and awaited the shock with no little solicitude.[27] The two armies met on the banks of the Adda, which flows into the northern part of the Lake of Como. Suwarrow led sixty thousand Russians and Austrians. The French general, Moreau, to oppose them, had the wreck of an army, consisting of twenty-five thousand men, disheartened by defeat. On the 17th of April, 1799, the first Russian regiment appeared in sight of the bridge of Lecco. The French, indignant at the interference of the Russians in a quarrel with which they had no concern, dashed upon them with their bayonets, and repulsed them with great carnage. But the hosts of Russia and Austria came pouring on in such overwhelming numbers, that Moreau, with his forces reduced to twenty thousand men, was compelled to retreat before an army which could concentrate ninety thousand troops in line of battle. Pressed by the enemy, he retreated through Milan to Turin. Suwarrow tarried in Milan to enjoy a triumph accorded to him by the priests and the nobles, the creatures of Austria.

Moreau entrenched himself at Alexandria, awaiting the arrival of General Macdonald with reinforcements. Suwarrow approached with an army now exceeding one hundred thousand men. Again Moreau was compelled to retreat, pursued by Suwarrow, and took refuge on the crest of the Apennines, in the vicinity of Genoa. By immense exertions he had assembled forty thousand men. Suwarrow came thundering upon him with sixty thousand. The French army was formed in a semicircle on the slopes of the Monte Rotundo, about twenty miles north of Genoa. The Austro-Russian army spread over the whole plain below. At five o'clock in the morning of the 15th of August, 1799, the fierce battle of Novi commenced. Suwarrow, a fierce fighter, but totally unacquainted with the science of strategy, in characteristic words gave the order of battle. "Kray," said he, "will attack the left—the Russians the center—Melas the right." To the soldiers he said, "God wills, the emperor orders, Suwarrow commands, that to-morrow the enemy be conquered." Dressed in his usual costume, in his shirt down to the waist, he led his troops into battle. Enormous slaughter ensued; numbers prevailing against science, and the French, driven out of Italy, took refuge along the ridges of the Apennines.

Suwarrow, satisfied with his dearly-bought victory, for he had lost ten thousand men in the conflict, did not venture to pursue the retiring foe, but with his bleeding and exhausted army fell back to Coni; and thence established garrisons throughout Piedmont and Lombardy. Paul was almost delirious with joy at this great victory. He issued a decree declaring Suwarrow to be the greatest general "of all times, of all peoples and of all quarters of the globe." In his pride he declared that republican France, for the crime of rebelling against legitimate authority, should receive punishment which should warn all nations against following her example. The Russian squadron combined with that of the Turks, formed a junction with the victorious fleet of Nelson, and sailing from the bay of Aboukir, swept the French fleet from the Mediterranean.

The Austrians and Russians, thus victorious, now marched to assail Massena at Zurich on the Rhine, intending there to cross the stream and invade France. For a month, in September and October, 1799, there was a series of incessant battles. But the republican armies were triumphant. The banners of France struggled proudly through many scenes of blood and woe, and the shores of Lake Zurich and the fastnesses of the Alps, were strewed with the dead bodies of the Russians. In fourteen days twenty thousand Russians and six thousand Austrians were slain. Suwarrow, the intrepid barbarian, with but ten thousand men saved from his proud army, retreated overwhelmed with confusion and rage. Republican France was saved. The rage which Suwarrow displayed is represented as truly maniacal. He foamed at the mouth and roared like a bull. As a wounded lion turns upon his pursuers, from time to time he stopped in his retreat, and rushed back upon the foe. He was crushed in body and mind by this defeat. Having wearied himself in denouncing, in unmeasured terms, all his generals and soldiers, he became taciturn and moody. Secluding himself from his fellow-men he courted solitude, and surrendered himself to a fantastic and superstitious devotion. Enveloped in a cloak, and with his eyes fixed upon the ground, he would occasionally pass through the camp, condescending to notice no one.

Paul had also sent an army into Holland, against France, which had been utterly repulsed by General Brune, with the loss of many slain and taken prisoners. The tidings of these disasters roused, in the bosom of Paul, fury equal to that which Suwarrow had displayed. He bitterly cursed his allies, England and Austria, declaring that they, in the pursuit of their own selfish interests, had abandoned his armies to destruction. Suwarrow, deprived of further command, and overwhelmed with disgrace, retired to one of his rural retreats where he soon died of chagrin.

The Austrian and English embassadors at the court of St. Petersburg, Paul loaded with reproaches and even with insults. His conduct became so whimsical as to lead many to suppose that he was actually insane. He had long hated the French republicans, but now, with a new and a fresher fury, he hated the allies. The wrecks of his armies were ordered to return to Russia, and he ceased to take an active part in the prosecution of the war, without however professing, in any way, to withdraw from the coalition. Neither the Austrian nor the English embassador could obtain an audience with the emperor. He treated them with utter neglect, and, the court following the example of the sovereign, these embassadors were left in perfect solitude. They could not even secure an audience with any of the ministry.

Paul had been very justly called the Don Quixote of the coalition, and the other powers were now not a little apprehensive of the course he might adopt, for madman as he was, he was the powerful monarch of some forty millions of people. Soon he ordered the Russian fleet, which in coöperation with the squadrons of the allies was blockading Malta, to withdraw from the conflict. Then he recalled his ministers from London and Vienna, declaring that neither England nor Austria was contending for any principle, but that they were fighting merely for their own selfish interests. England had already openly declared her intention of appropriating Malta to herself.

Napoleon had now returned from Egypt and had been invested with the supreme power in France as First Consul. There were many French prisoners in the hands of the allies. France had also ten thousand Russian prisoners. Napoleon proposed an exchange. Both England and Austria refused to exchange French prisoners for Russians.

"What," exclaimed Napoleon, "do you refuse to liberate the Russians, who were your allies, who were fighting in your ranks and under your commanders? Do you refuse to restore to their country those men to whom you are indebted for your victories and conquests in Italy, and who have left in your hands a multitude of French prisoners whom they have taken? Such injustice excites my indignation."

With characteristic magnanimity he added, "I will restore them to the tzar without exchange. He shall see how I esteem brave men."

These Russian prisoners were assembled at Aix la Chapelle. They were all furnished with a complete suit of new clothing, in the uniform of their own regiments, and were thoroughly supplied with weapons of the best French manufacture. And thus they were returned to their homes. Paul was exactly in that mood of mind which best enabled him to appreciate such a deed. He at once abandoned the alliance, and with his own hand wrote to Napoleon as follows:

"Citizen First Consul,—I do not write to you to discuss the rights of men or of citizens. Every country governs itself as it pleases. Whenever I see, at the head of a nation, a man who knows how to rule and how to fight, my heart is attracted towards him. I write to acquaint you with my dissatisfaction with England, who violates every article of the law of nations and has no guide but her egotism and her interest. I wish to unite with you to put an end to the unjust proceedings of that government."

Friendly relations were immediately established between France and Russia, and they exchanged embassadors. Paul had conferred an annual pension of two hundred thousand rubles (about $150,000) upon the Count of Provence, subsequently Louis XVIII., and had given him an asylum at Mittau. He now withdrew that pension and protection. He induced the King of Denmark to forbid the English fleet from passing the Sound, which led into the Baltic Sea, engaging, should the English attempt to force the passage, to send a fleet of twenty-one ships to assist the Danes. The battle of Hohenlinden and the peace of Luneville detached Austria from the coalition, and England was left to struggle alone against the new opinions in France.

The nobles of Russia, harmonizing with the aristocracy of Europe, were quite dissatisfied with this alliance between Russia and France. Though the form of the republic was changed to that of the consulate, they saw that the principles of popular liberty remained unchanged in France. The wife of Paul and her children, victims of the inexplicable caprice of the tzar, lived in constant constraint and fear. The empress had three sons—Alexander, Constantine and Nicholas. The heir apparent, Alexander, was watched with the most rigorous scrutiny, and was exposed to a thousand mortifications. The suspicious father became the jailer of his son, examining all his correspondence, and superintending his mode of life in its minutest details. The most whimsical and annoying orders were issued, which rendered life, in the vicinity of the court, almost a burden. The army officers were forbidden to attend evening parties lest they should be too weary for morning parade. Every one who passed the imperial palace, even in the most inclement weather, was compelled to go with head uncovered. The enforcement of his arbitrary measures rendered the intervention of the troops often necessary. The palace was so fortified and guarded as to resemble a prison. St. Petersburg, filled with the machinery of war, presented the aspect of a city besieged. Every one was exposed to arrest. No one was sure of passing the night in tranquillity, there were so many domiciliary visits; and many persons, silently arrested, disappeared without it ever being known what became of them. Spies moved about everywhere, and their number was infinite. Paul thus enlisted against himself the animosity of all classes of his subjects—his own family, foreigners, the court, the nobles and the bourgeois. Such were the influences which originated the conspiracy which resulted in the assassination of the tzar.

———

CHAPTER XXIX.

ASSASSINATION OF PAUL AND ACCESSION OF ALEXANDER.

From 1801 to 1807.

Assassination of Paul I.—Implication of Alexander in the Conspiracy.—Anecdotes.—Accession of Alexander.—The French Revolution.—Alexander Joins Allies Against France.—State of Russia.—Useful Measures of Alexander.—Peace of Amiens.—Renewal of Hostilities.—Battle of Austerlitz.—Magnanimity of Napoleon.—New Coalition.—Ambition of Alexander.—Battles of Jena and Eylau.—Defeat of the Russians.

We have before mentioned that Paul I. had three sons—Alexander, Constantine and Nicholas. The eldest of these, Alexander, was a very promising young man, of popular character, twenty-three years of age. His father feared his popularity and treated him with the greatest severity, and was now threatening him and his mother with imprisonment. General Pahlen, governor of St. Petersburg, obtained the confidence of the young prince, and urged upon him, as a necessary measure of self-defense, that he should place himself at the head of a conspiracy for the dethronement of his insane father. The sufferings of the young prince were so severe and his perils so great, and the desire for a change so universal throughout the empire, that it was not found difficult to enlist him in the enterprise. Alexander consented to the dethronement of his father, but with the express condition that his life should be spared. He might perhaps have flattered himself with the belief that this could be done; but the conspirators knew full well that the dagger of the assassin was the only instrument which could remove Paul from the throne. The conspiracy was very extensive, embracing nearly all the functionaries of the government at St. Petersburg, the entire senate, and the diplomatic corps. All the principal officers of the royal guard, with their colonel at their head, were included in the plot. The hour for the execution of the conspiracy was fixed for the night of the 23d of March, 1801.

A regiment devoted to the conspirators was that night on guard at the palace. The confederates who were to execute the plot, composed of the most distinguished men in the court and the army, met at the house of Prince Talitzin ostensibly for a supper. With wine and wassail they nerved themselves for the desperate deed. Just at midnight a select number entered the garden of the palace, by a private gate, and stealing silently along, beneath the trees, approached a portal which was left unbarred and undefended. One of the guardians of the palace led their steps and conducted them to an apartment adjoining that in which the tzar slept. A single hussar guarded the door. He was instantly struck down, and the conspirators in a body rushed into the royal chamber.

Paul sprang from his bed, and seizing his sword, endeavored to escape by another door than that through which the conspirators entered. Foiled in this attempt, in the darkness, for all lights had been extinguished, he hid himself behind a movable screen. He was however soon seized, lights were brought in, and an act of abdication was read to him which he was required to sign. The intrepid tzar sprang at Zoubow, who was reading the act, and cuffed his ears. A struggle immediately ensued, and an officer's sash was passed around the neck of the monarch, and after a desperate resistance he was strangled. The dress of one of the conspirators caused him to be mistaken, by the emperor, for his son Constantine, and the last words which the wretched sovereign uttered were, "And you too, Constantine."

The two grand dukes, Alexander and Constantine, were in the room below, and heard all the noise of the struggle in which their father was assassinated. It was with much difficulty that these young princes were induced to give their consent to the conspiracy, and they yielded only on condition that their father's life should be spared. But self-defense required some vigorous action on their part, for Paul had threatened to send Alexander to Siberia, to immure Constantine in a convent, and the empress mother in a cloister.

The conspirators having accomplished the deed, descended into the apartment, where the grand dukes were awaiting their return. Alexander enquired eagerly if they had saved his father's life. The silence of the conspirators told the melancholy tale. The grief manifested by both Alexander and Constantine was apparently sincere and intense. In passionate exclamations they gave vent to sorrow and remorse. But Pahlen, the governor, who had led the conspiracy, calm and collected, represented that the interests of the empire demanded a change of policy, that the death of Paul was a fatality, and that nothing now remained but for Alexander to assume the reins of government.

"I shall be accused," exclaimed Alexander bitterly, "of being the assassin of my father. You promised me not to attempt his life. I am the most unhappy man in the world."

The dead body of the emperor was placed upon a table, and an English physician, named Wylie, was called in to arrange the features so that it should appear that he had died of apoplexy. The judgment of the world has ever been and probably ever will be divided respecting the nature of Alexander's complicity in this murder. Many suppose that he could not have been ignorant that the death of his father was the inevitable end of the conspiracy, and that he accepted that result as a sad necessity. Certain it is that the conspirators were all rewarded richly, by being entrusted with the chief offices of the state; and the new monarch surrounded his throne with counselors whose hands were imbrued in his father's blood. A lady at St. Petersburg wrote to Fouché on the occasion of some ceremony which soon ensued,

"The young emperor walked preceded by the assassins of his grandfather, followed by those of his father, and surrounded by his own."

"Behold," said Fouché, "a woman who speaks Tacitus."

At St. Helena, O'Meara enquired of Napoleon if he thought that Paul had been insane. "Latterly," Napoleon replied, "I believe that he was. At first he was strongly prejudiced against the Revolution, and every person concerned in it; but afterwards I had rendered him reasonable, and had changed his opinions altogether. If Paul had lived the English would have lost India before now. An agreement was made between Paul and myself to invade it. I furnished the plan. I was to have sent thirty thousand good troops. He was to send a similar number of the best Russian soldiers, and forty thousand Cossacks. I was to subscribe ten millions for the purchase of camels and other requisites for crossing the desert. The King of Prussia was to have been applied to by both of us to grant a passage for my troops through his dominions, which would have been immediately granted. I had, at the same time, made a demand to the King of Persia for a passage through his country, which would also have been granted, although the negotiations were not entirely concluded, but would have succeeded, as the Persians were desirous of profiting by it themselves." [28]

On another occasion, speaking upon this same subject, Napoleon said to Las Casas, "Paul had been promised Malta the moment it was taken possession of by the English. Malta reduced, the English ministers denied that they had promised it to him. It is confidently stated that, on the reading of this shameful falsehood, Paul felt so indignant that, seizing the dispatch in full council, he ran his sword through it, and ordered it to be sent back, in that condition, by way of answer. If this be a folly, it must be allowed that it is the folly of a noble soul. It is the indignation of virtue, which was incapable until then of suspecting such baseness.

"At the same time the English ministers, treating with us for the exchange of prisoners, refused to include the Russian prisoners taken in Holland, who were in the actual service and fought for the sole cause of the English. I had hit upon the bent of Paul's character. I seized time by the forelock. I collected these Russians. I clothed them and sent them back without any expense. From that instant that generous heart was altogether devoted to me, and, as I had no interest in opposition to Russia, and should never have spoken or acted but with justice, there is no doubt that I should have been enabled, for the future, to dispose of the cabinet of St. Petersburg. Our enemies were sensible of the danger, and it has been thought that this good-will of Paul proved fatal to him, It might well have been the case, for there are cabinets with whom nothing is sacred."

The death of Paul brought the enemies of France and the friends of England into power at St. Petersburg. The new emperor, the first day after his accession to the throne, issued a proclamation declaring his intention to follow in the footsteps of his grandmother, Catharine. He liberated all the English sailors whom Paul had taken from the ships laid under sequestration. All the decrees against the free importation of English merchandise were abolished; and the young emperor soon wrote, with his own hand, a letter to the King of England, expressing his earnest desire again to establish friendly relations between the courts of Russia and England. This declaration was received in London with shouts of joy.

Alexander was twenty-three years of age when he ascended the throne. A Swiss, by the name of Laharpe, a man of great intelligence and lofty spirit, and a republican in principle, had been for many years the prominent tutor of the young prince, and had obtained a great control over his mind. The instructions of Laharpe, who wished to make a Washington of his pupil, were much counteracted by the despotic lessons he had received from Catharine, and by the luxury, servility and corruption which crowded the Russian court. Naturally amiable, and possessed of by no means a strong character, the young monarch was easily moulded by the influences which surrounded him. He evidently commenced his reign with the best intentions, resolved, in every way, to promote the prosperity of his subjects. It is painful to observe the almost inevitable tendency of power to deprave the soul. History is filled with the records of those sovereigns who have fallen from virtue to vice.

The commencement of the reign of Alexander was hailed with general joy. All his first proclamations breathe the spirit of benevolence, of generosity, of the desire to ameliorate the condition of the oppressed millions. The ridiculous ordinances which Paul had issued were promptly abrogated. By a special edict all Russians were permitted to dress as they pleased, to wear twilled waistcoats and pantaloons, instead of short clothes, if they preferred them. They were permitted to wear round hats, to lead dogs with a leash, and to fasten their shoes with strings instead of buckles. A large number of exiles, whom Paul had sent to Siberia, were recalled, and many of the most burdensome requirements of etiquette, in the court, were annulled.

Though Alexander was an absolute monarch, who could issue any decree, subject to no restraint, he conferred upon the senate the power to revise these decrees, and to suggest any amendment; and he also created a legislature who were permitted to advise respecting any regulations which they might think promotive of the interests of the empire. The will of the emperor was, however, absolute and unchecked. Still the appointment of these deliberative and advising bodies was considered an immense stride towards constitutional freedom. The censorship of the press was greatly mitigated, and foreign books and journals were more freely introduced to the empire.

Two new ministries were established by Alexander, with extensive responsibilities—the Ministry of the Interior, and that of Public Instruction. All the officers of government were rendered accountable to the senate, and responsible to the sovereign. These elements of accountability and of responsibility had hitherto been almost unknown in Russia. Charitable institutions were established, and schools of different grades, for the instruction of all classes of the people. Ambitious of rendering the Russian court as brilliant in all the appliances of luxury and art as any court in Europe, the emperor was indefatigable in the collection of paintings, statuary, medals and all artistic curiosities. The contrast thus became very marked between the semi-barbarism of the provinces and the enlightenment and voluptuousness of the capital.

It is worthy of remark that when Alexander ascended the throne there did not exist in all Russia, not even in St. Petersburg, a single book-store. [29] The Russian sovereigns had wished to take from civilization only that which would add to their despotic power. Desiring to perpetuate the monopoly of authority, they sought to retain in their own hands the privileges of instruction. The impulse which Alexander had given to the cause of education spread throughout the empire, and the nobles, in the distant provinces, interested themselves in establishing schools. These schools were, however, very exclusive in their character, admitting none but the children of the nobles. The military schools which Catharine had established, with so much care, Alexander encouraged and supported with the utmost assiduity.

As Catharine II. had endeavored to obliterate every trace of the government of her murdered husband, Peter III., so Alexander strove to efface all vestiges of his assassinated father, Paul. He entered into the closest alliance with England, and manifested much eagerness in his desire to gratify all the wishes of the cabinet of St. James. He even went so far as to consent to pay a sum of eight hundred thousand rubles ($600,000), as an indemnity to England for the loss the English merchants had incurred by the embargo placed by Paul upon their ships. Every day the partiality of the young emperor for England became more manifest. In the meantime Napoleon was unwearied in his endeavors to secure the good-will of a monarch whose sword would have so important an influence in settling the quarrel between aristocracy and democracy which then agitated Europe. Napoleon was so far successful that, on the 8th of October, 1801, a treaty of friendly alliance was signed at Paris between France and Russia. The battle of Marengo had compelled Austria to withdraw from the coalition against France; and the peace of Luneville, which Napoleon signed with Austria in February, 1801, followed by peace with Spain and Naples in March, with the pope in July, with Bavaria in August and with Portugal in September, left England to struggle alone against those republican principles which in the eyes of aristocratic Europe seemed equally obnoxious whether moulded under the form of the republic, the consulate or the empire.

The English cabinet, thus left to struggle alone, was compelled, though very reluctantly, by the murmurs of the British people, to consent to peace with France; and the treaty of Amiens, which restored peace to entire Europe, was signed in March, 1802. A few days after this event, peace was signed with Turkey, and thus through the sagacity and energy of Napoleon, every hostile sword was sheathed in Europe and on the confines of Asia. But the treaty of Amiens was a sore humiliation to the cabinet of St. James, and hardly a year had elapsed ere the British government, in May, 1803, again drew the sword, and all Europe was again involved in war. It was a war, said William Pitt truly, "of armed opinions."

The Russian embassador at Paris, M. Marcow, who under Catharine II. had shown himself bitterly hostile to the French republic, was declared to be guilty of entering into intrigues to assist the English, now making war upon France, and he was ordered immediately to leave the kingdom. Alexander did not resent this act, so obviously proper, but rewarded the dismissed minister with an annual pension of twelve thousand rubles ($9,000).

During this short interval of peace Alexander was raising an army of five hundred thousand men, to extend and consolidate his dominions on the side of Turkey. His frontiers there were dimly defined, and his authority but feebly exerted. He pushed his armies into Georgia and took firm possession of that vast province extending between the Black Sea and the Caspian, and embracing some eighteen thousand square miles. At the same time the blasts of his bugles were heard reverberating through the defiles of the Balkan, and his fortresses were reared and his banners planted there. The monarchs of Russia, for many generations, had fixed a wistful eye upon Constantinople, but no one had coveted the possession of that important city so intensely as now did Alexander. "Constantinople," said he often, "is the key of my house."

The arrest of the Duke d'Enghien, in the territory of the Duke of Baden, and his execution as a traitor for being in arms against his own country, excited the indignation of Alexander. Napoleon, immediately after the arrest, had made an apology to the Duke of Baden for the violation of a neutral territory, and this apology was accepted by the duke as satisfactory. Nevertheless, Alexander through his embassador, sent the following message to the court of the First Consul:

"The Emperor Alexander, as mediator and guarantee of the continental peace, has notified the States of the German empire that he considers the action of the First Consul as endangering their safety and independence, and that he does not doubt that the First Consul will take prompt measures to reassure those governments by giving satisfactory explanations."

Napoleon regarded this interference of Alexander as impertinent, and caused his minister to reply,

"What would Alexander have said if the First Consul had imperiously demanded explanations respecting the murder of Paul I., and had pretended to constitute himself an avenger? How is it, that when the sovereign of the territory, which it is said has been violated, makes no complaint; when all the princes, his neighbors and his allies, are silent—how is it that the Emperor of Russia, least of all interested in the affair, raises his voice alone? Does it not arise from complicity with England, that machinator of conspiracies against the power and the life of the First Consul? Is not Russia engaged in similar conspiracies at Rome, at Dresden and at Paris? If Russia desires war, why does she not frankly say so, instead of endeavoring to secure that end indirectly?"

In May of 1804, Napoleon assumed the imperial title. Alexander, denying the right of the people to elect their own sovereign, refused to recognize the empire. Hence increasing irritation arose. England, trembling in view of the camp at Boulogne, roused all her energies to rally Europe to strike France in the rear. In this effort she was signally successful. Russia, Sweden, Austria, Turkey and Rome, were engaged in vigorous coöperation with England against France. Holland, Switzerland and Bavaria ranged themselves on the side of Napoleon.

On the 8th of September, 1805, the armies of Austria and Russia were on the march for France, and the Austrian troops, in overwhelming numbers, invaded Bavaria. Napoleon was prepared for the blow. The camp at Boulogne was broken up, and his troops were instantly on the march towards the Rhine. In the marvelous campaign of Ulm the Austrian army was crushed, almost annihilated, and the victorious battalions of Napoleon marched resistlessly to Vienna. Alexander, with a vast army, was hurrying forward, by forced marches, to assist his Austrian ally. At Olmutz he met the Emperor of Austria on the retreat with thirty thousand men, the wreck of that magnificent army with which he had commenced his march upon France. Here the two armies formed a junction—seventy thousand Russians receiving into their ranks thirty thousand Austrians. The two emperors, Alexander and Francis, rode at the head of this formidable force.

On the 1st of December, Napoleon, leading an army of seventy thousand men, encountered these, his combined foes, on the plains of Austerlitz. "To-morrow," said he, "before nightfall, that army shall be mine!" A day of carnage, such as war has seldom seen, ensued. From an eminence the Emperors of Russia and Austria witnessed the destruction of their hosts. No language can describe the tumult which pervaded the ranks of the retreating foe. The Russians, wild with dismay, rent the skies with their barbaric shouts, and wreaked their vengeance upon all the helpless villages they encountered in their path.

Francis, the Emperor of Austria, utterly ruined, sought an interview with his conqueror, and implored peace. Napoleon, as ever, was magnanimous, and was eager to sheathe the sword which he had only drawn in self-defense. Francis endeavored to throw the blame of the war upon England.

"The English," said he, "are a nation of merchants. To secure for themselves the commerce of the world they are willing to set the continent in flames!"

The Austrian monarch, having obtained very favorable terms for himself, interceded for Alexander. "The Russian army," Napoleon replied, "is surrounded. Not a man can escape me. If, however, your majesty will promise me that Alexander shall immediately return to Russia, I will stop the advance of my columns."

The pledge was given, and Napoleon then sent General Savary to the head-quarters of Alexander, to inquire if he would ratify the armistice.

"I am happy to see you," said the emperor to the envoy. "The occasion has been very glorious for your arms. That day will take nothing from the reputation your master has earned in so many battles. It was my first engagement. I confess that the rapidity of his maneuvers gave me no time to succor the menaced points. Everywhere you were at least double the number of our forces."

"Sire," Savary replied, "our force was twenty-five thousand less than yours. And even of that the whole was not very warmly engaged. But we maneuvered much, and the same division combated at several different points. Therein lies the art of war. The emperor, who has seen forty pitched battles, is never wanting in that particular. He is still ready to march against the Archduke Charles, if your majesty does not accept the armistice."

"What guarantee does your master require," continued Alexander, "and what security can I have that your troops will not prosecute their movements against me?"

"He asks only your word of honor," Savary replied. "He has instructed me the moment it is given to suspend the pursuit."

"I give it with pleasure," rejoined the emperor, "and should it ever be your fortune to visit St. Petersburg, I hope that I may be able to render my capital agreeable to you."

Hostilities immediately ceased, and the broken columns of the Russian troops returned to their homes. The Austro-Russian army, in the disastrous day of Austerlitz, lost in killed, wounded and prisoners, over forty thousand men. It is stated that Alexander, when flying from the bloody field with his discomfited troops, his path being strewed with the wounded and the dead, posted placards along the route, with the inscription,

"I commend my unfortunate soldiers to the generosity of the Emperor Napoleon!"

Alexander, young and ambitions, was very much chagrined by this utter discomfiture. Austerlitz was his first battle; and instead of covering him with renown it had overwhelmed him with disgrace. He was anxious for an opportunity to wipe away the stain. A new coalition was soon formed against France, consisting of England, Russia, Prussia and Sweden. Alexander eagerly entered into this coalition, hoping for an opportunity to acquire that military fame which, in this lost world, has been ever deemed so essential to the reputation of a sovereign. The remonstrance of Napoleon, with Russia, was noble and unanswerable.

"Why," said he, "should hostilities arise between France and Russia? Perfectly independent of each other, they are impotent to inflict evil, but all-powerful to communicate benefits. If the Emperor of France exercises a great influence in Italy, the tzar exerts a still greater influence over Turkey and Persia. If the cabinet of Russia pretends to have a right to affix limits to the power of France, without doubt it is equally disposed to allow the Emperor of the French to prescribe the bounds beyond which Russia is not to pass. Russia has partitioned Poland. Can she then complain that France possesses Belgium and the left banks of the Rhine? Russia has seized upon the Crimea, the Caucasus, and the northern provinces of Persia. Can she deny that the right of self-preservation gives France a right to demand an equivalent in Europe?

"Let every power begin by restoring the conquests which it has made during the last fifty years. Let them reëstablish Poland, restore Venice to its senate, Trinidad to Spain, Ceylon to Holland, the Crimea to the Porte, the Caucasus and Georgia to Persia, the kingdom of Mysore to the sons of Tippoo Saib, and the Mahratta States to their lawful owners; and then the other powers may have some title to insist that France shall retire within her ancient limits. It is the fashion to speak of the ambition of France. Had she chosen to preserve her conquests, the half of Austria, the Venetian States, the States of Holland and Switzerland and the kingdom of Naples would have been in her possession. The limits of France are, in reality, the Adige and the Rhine. Has it passed either of these limits? Had it fixed on the Solza and the Drave, it would not have exceeded the bounds of its conquests."

In September, 1806, the Prussian army, two hundred thousand strong, commenced their march for the invasion of France. Alexander had also marshaled his barbarian legions and was eagerly following, with two hundred thousand of the most highly disciplined Russian troops in his train. Napoleon contemplated with sorrow the rising of this new storm of war and woe; but with characteristic vigor he prepared to meet it. As he left Paris for the campaign, in a parting message to the senate he said,

"In so just a war, which we have not provoked by any act, by any pretense, the true cause of which it would be impossible to assign, and where we only take arms to defend ourselves, we depend entirely upon the support of the laws, and upon that of the people whom circumstances call upon to give fresh proofs of their devotion and courage."

In the battle of Jena, which took place on the 14th of October, the Prussian army was nearly annihilated, leaving in a few hours more than forty thousand men in killed, wounded and prisoners. In less than a month the conquest of entire Prussia was achieved, and Napoleon was pursuing Frederic William, who, with the wreck of the Prussian army was hastening to take refuge in the bosom of the Russian hosts which were approaching. December had now come with its icy blasts, and Napoleon, leading his victorious troops to the banks of the Vistula, more than a thousand miles from France, established them in winter quarters, waiting until spring for the renewal of the campaign.

Alexander, terrified by the destruction of his Prussian allies, halted his troops upon the other side of the Vistula, and from his vast realms collected recruits. For a few weeks the storms of winter secured a tacit armistice.

In February, 1807, Alexander assumed the offensive and endeavored to surprise Napoleon in his encampment. But Napoleon was on the alert. A series of terrific battles ensued, in which the French were invariably the victors. The retreating Russians, hotly pursued, at last rallied on the field of Eylau. Napoleon had already driven them two hundred and forty miles from his encampment on the Vistula.

"It was the 7th of February, 1807. The night was dark and intensely cold as the Russians, exhausted by the retreat of the day, took their positions for the desperate battle of the morrow. There was a gentle swell of land extending two or three miles, which skirted a vast, bleak, unsheltered plain, over which the wintry gale drifted the snow. Upon this ridge the Russians in double lines formed themselves in battle array. Five hundred pieces of cannon were ranged in battery, to hurl destruction into the bosoms of their foes. They then threw themselves upon the icy ground for their frigid bivouac. A fierce storm had already risen, which spread over the sleeping host its mantle of snow."

Napoleon came also upon the field, in the darkness of the night and of the storm, and placed his army in position for the battle which the dawn would usher in. Two hundred pieces of artillery were planted to reply to the Russian batteries. There were eighty thousand Russians on the ridge, sixty thousand Frenchmen on the plain, and separated by a distance of less than half a cannon shot. The sentinels of either army could almost touch each other with their muskets.

The morning had not yet dawned when the cannonade commenced. The earth shook beneath its roar. A storm of snow at the same time swept over the plain blinding and smothering assailants and assailed. The smoke of the battle blended with the storm had spread over the contending hosts a sulphurous canopy black as midnight. Even the flash of the guns could hardly be discerned through the gloom. All the day long, and until ten o'clock at night, the battle raged with undiminished fury. One half of the Russian army was now destroyed, and the remainder, unable longer to endure the conflict, sullenly retreated. Napoleon remained master of the field, which exhibited such a scene of misery as had never before met even his eye. When congratulated upon his victory by one of his officers he replied sadly,

"To a father who loses his children, victory has no charms. When the heart speaks, glory itself is an illusion."

———

CHAPTER XXX.

REIGN OF ALEXANDER I.

From 1807 to 1825.

The Field of Eylau.—Letter to the King of Prussia.—Renewal of the War—Discomfiture of the Allies.—Battle of Friedland.—The Raft at Tilsit.—Intimacy of the Emperors.—Alexander's Designs upon Turkey.—Alliance between France and Russia.—Object of the Continental System.—Perplexities of Alexander.—Driven by the Nobles to War.—Results of the Russian Campaign.—Napoleon Vanquished.—Last Days of Alexander.—His Sickness and Death.

From the field of Eylau, the Russians and Prussians retreated to the Niemen. Napoleon remained some days upon the field to nurse the wounded, and, anxious for peace, wrote to the King of Prussia in the following terms:

"I desire to put a period to the misfortunes of your family, and to organize, as speedily as possible, the Prussian monarchy. I desire peace with Russia, and, provided that the cabinet of St. Petersburg has no designs upon the Turkish empire, I see no difficulty in obtaining it. I have no hesitation in sending a minister to Memil to take part in a congress of France, England, Sweden, Russia, Prussia and Turkey. But as such a congress may last many years, which would not suit the present condition of Prussia, your majesty will, I am persuaded, be of the opinion that I have taken the simplest method, and one which is most likely to secure the prosperity of your subjects. At all events I entreat your majesty to believe in my sincere desire to reëstablish amicable relations with so friendly a power as Prussia, and that I wish to do the same with Russia and England."

These advances were haughtily rejected by both Prussia and Russia; and Napoleon returned to the Vistula to wait until the opening of spring, when the question was again to be referred to the arbitrament of battle. Both parties made vigorous preparations for the strife. Alexander succeeded in gathering around him one hundred and forty thousand soldiers. But Napoleon had assembled one hundred and sixty thousand whom he could rapidly concentrate upon any point between the Vistula and the Niemen.

In June the storm of war commenced with an assault by the allies. Field after field was red with blood as the hosts of France drove their vanquished foes before them. On the 10th of June, Alexander, with Frederic William riding by his side, had concentrated ninety thousand men upon the plains of Friedland, on the banks of the Aller. Here the Russians were compelled to make a final stand and await a decisive conflict. As Napoleon rode upon a height and surveyed his foes, caught in an elbow of the river, he said energetically, "We have not a moment to lose. One does not twice catch an enemy in such a trap." He immediately communicated to his aides his plan of attack. Grasping the arm of Ney, he pointed to the dense masses of the Russians clustered before the town of Friedland, and said,

"Yonder is the goal. March to it without looking about you. Break into that thick mass whatever it costs. Enter Friedland; take the bridges and give yourself no concern about what may happen on your right, your left or your rear. The army and I shall be there to attend to that."

The whole French line now simultaneously advanced. It was one of the most sublime and awful of the spectacles of war. For a few hours there was the gleam and the roar of war's most terrific tempest and the Russian army was destroyed. A frightful spectacle of ruin was exhibited. The shattered bands rushed in dismay into the stream, where thousands were swept away by the current, while a storm of bullets from the French batteries swept the river, and the water ran red with blood. It was in vain for Alexander to make any further assaults. In ten days Napoleon had taken one hundred and twenty pieces of cannon, and had killed, wounded or taken prisoners, sixty thousand Russians.

Alexander now implored peace. It was all that Napoleon desired. The Niemen alone now separated the victorious French and the routed Russians. A raft was moored in the middle of the stream upon which a tent was erected with magnificent decorations, and here the two young emperors met to arrange the terms of peace. Alexander, like Francis of Austria, endeavored to throw the blame of the war upon England. Almost his first words to Napoleon were,

"I hate the English as much as you do. I am ready to second you in all your enterprises against them."

"In that case," Napoleon replied, "every thing will be easily arranged and peace is already made."

The interview lasted two hours, and Alexander was fascinated by the genius of Napoleon. "Never," he afterwards said, "did I love any man as I loved that man." Alexander was then but thirty years of age, and apparently he became inspired with an enthusiastic admiration of Napoleon which had never been surpassed. At the close of the interview, he crossed to the French side of the river, and took up his residence with Napoleon at Tilsit. Every day they rode side by side, dined together, and passed almost every hour in confiding conversation. It was Napoleon's great object to withdraw Alexander from the English alliance. In these long interviews the fate of Turkey was a continual topic of conversation. Alexander was ready to make almost any concession if Napoleon would consent that Russia should take Constantinople. But Napoleon was irreconcilably opposed to this. It was investing Russia with too formidable power. He was willing that the emperor should take the provinces on the Danube, but could not consent that he should pass the Balkan and annex the proud city of Constantine to his realms.

One day when the two emperors were closeted together with the map of Europe spread out before them, Napoleon placed his finger upon Constantinople, and was overheard by Meneval to say, with great earnestness, "Constantinople! never! It is the empire of the world."

"All the Emperor Alexander's thoughts," said Napoleon at St. Helena, "are directed to the conquest of Turkey. We have had many discussions about it. At first I was pleased with his proposals, because I thought it would enlighten the world to drive these brutes out of Egypt. But when I reflected upon its consequences and saw what a tremendous weight of power it would give to Russia, on account of the number of Greeks in the Turkish dominions who would naturally join the Russians, I refused to consent to it, especially as Alexander wanted to get Constantinople, which I would not allow, as it would destroy the equilibrium of power in Europe."

For three weeks the emperors remained together at Tilsit, and then they separated devoted friends. Turkey had for some time been disposed to regard France as its protector against the encroachments of Russia, and was disposed to enter into friendly alliance. By the treaty of Tilsit, Russia consented to make peace with Turkey, and also to exert all her influence to promote peace between France and England. The efforts of Alexander not being successful in this respect, he broke off his connection with Great Britain, and became still more intimately allied with France. The British ambassador, Lord Gower, was informed that his presence was no longer desired at St. Petersburg. The second bombardment of Copenhagen, and the seizure of the Danish fleet gave occasion for Alexander to declare war against England. The war, however, which ensued between the two countries, amounted chiefly to a cessation of trade. England, protected by her fleet, was invulnerable; and Napoleon and Alexander both agreed that the only possible way of compelling England to assent to peace, was to shut her out from commerce with the rest of Europe. This was the origin of the famous continental system, by which it was endeavored to force the belligerent islanders to peace by cutting off their trade.

Alexander called upon Sweden to unite in this confederacy against England. The Swedes declined. Alexander overran the whole of Finland with his troops, and in 1809 it was permanently annexed to the Russian empire. Just before this event, in September, 1808, Napoleon and Alexander held another interview at Erfurth. The loss of British commerce was almost as great a calamity to Russia as to England, and the Russian people murmured loudly. England wished to arrest the progress of democratic ideas in France by restoring the rejected Bourbons to the throne. In these views the nobles of Russia sympathized cordially, and they were exasperated that Alexander should allow personal friendship for Napoleon to interfere with the commerce of their country, and with the maintenance of aristocratic privilege in Europe. The Russian nobles had nothing to gain by the establishment of free institutions in France, and the discontent with the measures of Alexander became so general and so loudly expressed that he began to waver.

The only hope of Napoleon was in combining Europe in a league which should starve England into peace. He watched the vacillating spirit of Alexander with alarm, and arranged the interview at Erfurth that he might strengthen him in his friendly purposes. Alexander was by the most solemn pledges bound to be faithful to this alliance. He had attacked Napoleon and had been conquered; and the southern provinces of Russia were at the mercy of the conqueror. Under these circumstances the treaty of Tilsit was made, in which Alexander, in consideration of benefits received, agreed to coöperate with Napoleon in that continental system which seemed vital to the safety of France. Napoleon was well aware of the immense pressure which was brought to bear upon the mind of the Russian tzar to induce him to swerve from his agreement. Hence the conference at Erfurth. During the deliberations at Erfurth it appears that Alexander consented that Napoleon should place the crown of Spain upon the brow of his brother Joseph, in consideration of Napoleon consenting that Russia should take possession of the two Turkish provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia. And again the most strenuous efforts were made by the united emperors to induce inflexible England to sheathe the sword. All the nations on the continent were at peace. England alone was prosecuting the war. But the English aristocracy felt that they could not remain firm in their possessions while principles of democratic freedom were dominant in France. The fundamental principle of the government of the empire was honor to merit, not to birth. The two emperors wrote as follows to the King of England, imploring peace:

"Sire—The present situation of Europe has brought us together at Erfurth. Our first wish is to fulfill the desire of all nations, and, by a speedy pacification with your majesty to take the most effectual means of relieving the sufferings of Europe. The long and bloody war which has convulsed the continent is at an end, and can not be renewed. Many changes have taken place in Europe; many governments have been destroyed. The cause is to be found in the uneasiness and the sufferings occasioned by the stagnation of maritime commerce. Greater changes still may take place, and all will be unfavorable to the politics of England. Peace, therefore, is at the same time the common cause of the nations of the continent and of Great Britain. We unite in requesting your majesty to lend an ear to the voice of humanity, to suppress that of the passions, to reconcile contending interests, and to secure the welfare of Europe and of the generations over which Providence has placed us."

The only notice taken of this letter was in a communication to the ministers of France and Russia, in which it was stated that the "English ministers could not reply to the two sovereigns, since one of them was not recognized by England." A new coalition was soon formed, and Austria commenced another march upon France, which led to the campaign of Wagram, in which Austria was humbled as never before. Austria was now compelled, in conjunction with France and Russia, and most of the other European powers, to take part in the continental blockade. Alexander, shackled by his nobles, had not been able to render Napoleon the assistance he had promised in this war. Loud murmurs and threats of assassination were rising around him, and instead of rigorously enforcing the exclusion of English goods, he allowed them to be smuggled into the country. This was ruinous to Napoleon's system. Remonstrances and recriminations ensued. At length English goods were freely introduced, provided they entered under American colors. Napoleon, to put a stop to this smuggling, which the local authorities pretended they could not prevent, seized several of the principal ports of northern Germany, and incorporated the possessions of the Duke of Oldenburg, a near relative of Alexander, with France.[30]

These measures increased the alienation between France and Austria. In the mean time Alexander was waging war with Turkey, and was pushing his conquests rapidly on towards the city of Constantine. These encroachments France contemplated with alarm. By the peace of Bucharest, signed May 28th, 1812, the whole of Bessarabia was annexed to Russia, and the limits of the empire were extended from the Dnieper to the Pruth. The Russian nobles were all eager to join the European aristocracy in a war against democratic France, and it was now evident that soon a collision must take place between the cabinet of the Tuileries and that of St. Petersburg. It was almost impossible for Alexander to resist the pressure which urged him to open his ports to the English. The closing of those ports was Napoleon's only hope of compelling England to sheathe the sword. Hence war became a fatality.

Russia, in anticipation of a rupture, began to arm, and ordered a levy of four men out of every hundred. In preparation for war she made peace with Persia and Turkey, and entered into an alliance with Sweden. England was highly gratified by this change, and was soon on most friendly terms with the Russian cabinet. A treaty was speedily formed by England, with both Russia and Sweden, by which these latter powers agreed to open their ports for free commercial relations with England, and they entered into an alliance offensive and defensive with that power. As England was still in arms against France, this was virtually a declaration of war. This violation also of the treaty of Tilsit was the utter ruin of Napoleon's plans. To compel Russia to return to the continental system, Napoleon prepared for that Russian campaign which is one of the most awful tragedies of history. The world is so full of the narratives of that sublime drama, that the story need not be repeated here. It is just to say that Napoleon exhausted all the arts of diplomacy to accomplish his purpose before he put his armies in motion.

The Emperor Alexander followed the French in their retreat from Moscow, and with all the powers of Europe allied, crossed the Rhine, and on the 31st of March, 1814, at the head of an allied army of half a million of men entered Paris a conqueror. His sympathies were warmly enlisted in behalf of his fallen friend Napoleon. In the negotiations which ensued he exerted himself strongly in his favor. It was only by assuming the most energetic attitude against England, Austria and Prussia, that he succeeded in obtaining for Napoleon the sovereignty of Elba. Alexander was very magnanimous, but his voice was lost in the clamor of the sovereigns who surrounded him.

Napoleon retired to Elba. The Bourbons reascended the throne of France. Alexander, with the King of Prussia, visited England, where he was received with great distinction. Returning to Russia he devoted himself to the welfare of his kingdom in the vain attempt to reconcile popular progress with political despotism. Alexander was evidently saddened by the fate of Napoleon, and on his return to St. Petersburg persistently refused to accept the public rejoicings which were proffered him.

Napoleon escaped from Elba, where the influence of Alexander had placed him, and again was on the throne of France. Alexander hesitated whether again to march against him. He yielded, however, to the solicitations of his associated sovereigns, and at the head of an army of one hundred and sixty thousand men, was again on the march for Paris. He was apprehensive that the dismemberment of the French empire, which was contemplated, might render Austria and Prussia too powerful for the repose of Europe. Upon the second capitulation of Paris, after the battle of Waterloo, Alexander insisted that France should at least retain the limits she had in 1790. Upon this basis the new treaty was concluded.

It is an interesting fact that the celebrated Juliana, Baroness of Krudoner, was mainly instrumental in the organization of the Holy Alliance, which was at this time formed. She had wealth, wit and beauty, and had been supremely devoted to pleasure, shining among the most brilliant ornaments of St. Petersburg, Paris and Vienna. Weary of a life of gayety, she seems to have turned to religion and to have become a devout and earnest Christian. Her enthusiasm was roused with the idea of putting a stop to war, and of truly Christianizing Europe. She hastened to Paris, when the allied sovereigns were there, and obtained an interview with the Russian tzar. Alexander was by nature of a devotional turn of mind, and the terrific scenes through which he had passed had given him a meditative and pensive spirit. He listened eagerly to the suggestions of Madame Krudoner, and, aided by her, sketched as follows the plan of the Holy Alliance:

"In the name of the sacred and invisible Trinity, their majesties, the Emperor of Austria, the King of Prussia, and the Emperor of Russia, considering the momentous events which have occured in Europe during the last three years, and especially the blessing which it has pleased Providence to confer on those States which trust in him, and being fully convinced of the necessity of taking, as the rule of life, in all their affairs, the sublime truths which the holy religion of our Saviour teaches us,

"Declare solemnly that the present act has no other object than to proclaim to the whole world their unalterable resolution to take, as their only guide, both in the internal administration of their respective States, and in their political relations with other governments, those principles of justice, Christian charity and peace, which, far from being exclusively applicable to private individuals, should have an immediate influence upon the counsels of princes, and should regulate all their measures, as being the only means of consolidating human institutions and remedying their imperfections. Consequently their majesties have agreed upon the following resolutions:

"Article I. In conformity with the declaration of the holy Scriptures, which command all men to regard each other as brothers, the three contracting monarchs will remain united to each other by the ties of sincere and indissoluble fraternity. Regarding themselves as private individuals, they will render each other, at all times, and in all places, aid and assistance; and considering themselves, in respect to their people and armies, as fathers of families, they will rule in the same spirit of fraternity, that religion, peace and justice may be protected.

"Article II. Also the only obligation of rigor, whether it be between these governments or their subjects, shall consist in rendering each other all sorts of service, and of testifying towards each other that unalterable benevolence and that mutual affection which shall lead them to guard one another as members of one and the same Christian family. The three allied princes, regarding themselves as delegated by Providence to govern three branches of this family, Austria, Prussia and Russia, recognize that the Christian world, of which they and their people compose a part, can have, in reality, no other sovereign than him to whom belongs all power, because in him alone are the treasures of love, of science and of infinite wisdom—that is to say, God, our divine Saviour, the word of the Most High, the word of life. Consequently their majesties recommend to their people, with the greatest solicitude, and as the only means of enjoying that peace which springs from a good conscience, and which alone is durable, to strengthen themselves daily more and more in the exercise of those duties taught to the human family by the divine Saviour.

"Article III. All the powers who believe that they ought solemnly to profess the principles which have dictated this act, and who recognize how important it is for the welfare of nations, too long agitated, that these truths should hereafter exercise over the destinies of the human family that influence which they ought to exert, shall be received, with the same ardor and affection, into this Holy Alliance. Done at Paris, in the year of our Lord, 1814, September 25, and signed, Francis, Frederic William and Alexander."

Such was the bond of the Holy Alliance. It was drawn up in the hand-writing of Alexander. Subsequently it was signed by the Kings of England and France, and by nearly all the sovereigns of Europe. The pope declined signing, as it was not consistent with his dignity to be a member of a confederacy of which he was not the head. These principles, apparently so true and salutary, became vitiated by the underlying of principles which gave them all their force. The alliance became in reality a conspiracy of the crowned heads of Europe against the liberties of their subjects; and thus despotism sat enthroned. The liberal spirit, which was then breaking out all over the continent of Europe, was thus, for a time, effectually crushed. It can hardly be supposed that Alexander intended the Holy Alliance to accomplish the work which it subsequently performed.

Alexander, on his return to Russia, devoted himself energetically to the government of his vast realms, taking long and fatiguing journeys, and manifesting much interest in the elevation of the serfs to freedom. The latter years of Alexander were clouded with sorrow. He was not on good terms with his wife, and the death of all his children rendered his home desolate. His health failed and some deep grief seemed ever to prey upon his spirits. It is supposed that the melancholy fate of Napoleon, dying in a hut at St. Helena, and of whom he had said, "Never did I love a man as I have loved that man!" weighed heavily upon him. He was constantly haunted by fears of a rising of the oppressed people, and to repel that danger was becoming continually more despotic.

In the year 1825, Alexander, sick, anxious and melancholy, took a long journey, with his wife, to Tanganroy, a small town upon the Sea of Azof, fifteen hundred miles from St. Petersburg. He had for some time looked forward with dread to his appearance before the bar of God. A sense of sin oppressed him, and he had long sought relief with prayers and tears. His despondency led him to many forebodings that he should not live to return from this journey.

The morning before he left St. Petersburg, at the early hour of four o'clock, he visited the monastery where the remains of his children were entombed, and at their grave spent some time in prayer. Wrapped in his cloak, in unbroken silence he listened to the "chant for the dead," and then commenced his journey. No peasant whom he met on the way had a heavier heart than throbbed in the bosom of the sovereign. For hours he sat in the carriage with the empress, with whom in grief he had become reconciled, and hardly a word was uttered. At length they arrived upon the shores of Azof. The emperor took a rapid tour through these provinces, visiting among other places Sevastopol, which he had long been fortifying. He was so much struck with the magnificence of this place that he remarked, "Should I ever resign the reins of government, I should wish to retire to this city, that I might here terminate my career!"

Returning to his wife at Tanganroy, he was seized with a fever, probably caused by care and toil. The disease was so rapid in its progress as to lead many to suppose that he was falling a victim to poison. On the approach of death, perceiving that he was dying, he requested that he might be raised upon his pillow, that he might once more behold the light of the sun. He simply remarked, "How beautiful is the day!" and fell back upon his pillow to die. The empress was weeping by his side. He took her hand, pressed it tenderly as if bidding her an eternal adieu, and died. It was the 1st of December, 1825.

The empress Elizabeth in this sad hour forgot all her wrongs; for the emperor had by no means been to her a faithful husband. She wrote to her friends, "Our angel is in heaven; and, as for me, I still linger on earth: but I hope soon to be reunited with him in the skies!"

The cry immediately resounded through Europe that Alexander had fallen by poison. As the emperor had no children living, the crown, by hereditary descent, passed to his next brother, Constantine. Alexander had long been conscious that Constantine did not possess suitable qualifications to govern, and Constantine himself, frivolous and pleasure-loving, was not at all emulous of imperial power. When a mere boy he had been married to a German princess, but fifteen years of age. They endured each other through the angry strifes of four years and then separated. Constantine became enamored of the daughter of a Polish count, and sought a divorce. Alexander consented to this arrangement on condition that Constantine would resign all right to the throne. The terms were gladly accepted, and Constantine signed the following renunciation, which was kept secret until the occasion should arise for it to be promulgated.

"Conscious that I do not possess the genius, the talents or the strength necessary to fit me for the dignity of a sovereign, to which my birth would give me a right, I entreat your imperial majesty to transfer that right to him to whom it belongs after me, and thus assure for ever the stability of the empire. As to myself, I shall add, by this renunciation, a new guarantee and a new force to the engagements which I spontaneously and solemnly contracted on the occasion of my divorce from my first wife. All the circumstances in which I find myself strengthen my determination to adhere to this resolution, which will prove to the empire and to the whole world the sincerity of my sentiments."

Another document had also been prepared which declared Alexander's second brother, Nicholas, heir to the empire. Napoleon, at St. Helena, speaking of the King of Prussia and of Alexander, said,

"Frederic William, as a private character, is an honorable, good and worthy man, but in his political capacity he is naturally disposed to yield to necessity. He is always commanded by whoever has power on his side, and is about to strike.

"As to the Emperor of Russia, he is a man infinitely superior to Frederic William or Francis. He possesses wit, grace, information, and is fascinating, but he is not to be trusted. He is devoid of candor, a true Greek of the Lower Empire. At the same time he is not without ideology, real or assumed; after all it may only be a smattering, derived from his education and his preceptor. Would you believe what I had to discuss with him? He maintained that inheritance was an abuse in monarchy, and I had to spend more than an hour, and employ all my eloquence and logic in proving to him that this right constituted the peace and happiness of the people. It may be too that he was mystifying, for he is cunning, false, adroit and hypocritical. I repeat it, he is a Greek of the Lower Empire.

"If I die here he will be my real heir in Europe. I alone was able to stop him with his deluge of Tartars. The crisis is great, and will have lasting effects upon the continent of Europe, especially upon Constantinople. He was solicitous with me for the possession of it. I have had much coaxing upon this subject, but I constantly turned a deaf ear to it. The Turkish empire, shattered as it appeared, would constantly have remained a point of separation between us. It was the marsh which prevented my right from being turned.

"As to Greece it is another matter. Greece awaits a liberator. There will be a brilliant crown of glory. He will inscribe his name for ever with those of Homer, Plato and Epaminondas. I perhaps was not far from it. When, during my campaign in Italy, I arrived on the shores of the Adriatic, I wrote to the Directory, that I had before my eyes the kingdom of Alexander. Still later I entered into engagements with Ali Pacha; and when Corfu was taken, they must have found there ammunition, and a complete equipment for an army of forty or fifty thousand men. I had caused maps to be made of Macedonia, Servia, Albania. Greece, the Peloponnesus at least, must be the lot of the European power which shall possess Egypt. It should be ours; and then an independent kingdom in the north, Constantinople, with its provinces, to serve as a barrier to the power of Russia, as they have pretended to do with respect to France, by creating the kingdom of Belgium."

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CHAPTER XXXI.

NICHOLAS.

From 1825 to 1855.

Abdication of Constantine.—Accession of Nicholas.—Insurrection Quelled.—Nicholas and the Conspirator.—Anecdote.—The Palace of Peterhoff.—The Winter Palace.—Presentation at Court.—Magnitude of Russia.—Description of the Hellespont and the Dardanelles.—The Turkish Invasion.—Aims of Russia.—Views of England and France.—Wars of Nicholas.—The Polish Insurrection.—War of the Crimea.—Jealousies of the Leading Nations.—Encroachments.—Death of Nicholas.—Accession of Alexander II.

Constantine was at Warsaw when the news arrived of the death of his brother. The mother of Alexander was still living. Even Nicholas either affected not to know, or did not know, that his wild, eccentric brother Constantine had renounced the throne in his favor, for he immediately, upon the news of the death of Alexander, summoned the imperial guard into the palace chapel, and, with them, took the oath of allegiance to his older brother, the Grand Duke Constantine. On his return, his mother, who is represented as being quite frantic in her inconsolable grief, exclaimed,

"Nicholas, what have you done? Do you not know that there is a document which names you presumptive heir?"

"If there be one," Nicholas replied, "I do not know it, neither does any one else. But this we all know, that our legitimate sovereign, after Alexander, is my brother Constantine. We have therefore done our duty, come what may."

Nicholas was persistent in his resolution not to take the crown until he received from his brother a confirmation of his renunciation of the throne. Three weeks elapsed before this intelligence arrived. It then came full and decisive, and Nicholas no longer hesitated, though the interval had revealed to him that fearful dangers were impending. He was informed by several of his generals that a wide-spread conspiracy extended throughout the army in favor of a constitutional government. Many of the officers and soldiers, in their wars against Napoleon and in their invasion of France, had become acquainted with those principles of popular liberty which were diffused throughout France, and which it was the object of the allies to crush. Upon their return to Russia, the utter despotism of the tzar seemed more than ever hateful to them. Several conspiracies had been organized for his assassination, and now the plan was formed to assassinate the whole imperial family, and introduce a republic.

Nicholas was seriously alarmed by the danger which threatened, though he was fully conscious that his only safety was to be found in courage and energy. He accordingly made preparation for the administration of the oath of allegiance to the army. "I shall soon," said he, "be an emperor or a corpse." On the morning when the oath was to be administered, and when it was evident that the insurrection would break out, he said, "If I am emperor only for an hour, I will show that I am worthy of it."

The morning of the 25th of December dawned upon St. Petersburg in tumult. Bands of soldiers were parading the streets shouting, "Constantine for ever." The insurrection had assumed the most formidable aspect, for many who were not republicans, were led to believe that Nicholas was attempting to usurp the crown which, of right, belonged to Constantine. Two generals, who had attempted to quell the movement, had already been massacred, and vast mobs, led by the well-armed regiments, were, from all quarters of the city, pressing toward the imperial palace. Nicholas, who was then twenty-nine years of age, met the crisis with the energy of Napoleon. Placing himself at the head of a small body of faithful guards, he rode to encounter his rebellious subjects in the stern strife of war. Instead of meeting a mob of unarmed men, he found marshaled against him the best disciplined troops in his army.

A terrible conflict ensued, in which blood flowed in torrents. The emperor, heading his own troops, exposed himself, equally with them, to all perils. As soon as it was evident that he would be compelled to fire upon his subjects, he sent word to his wife of the cruel necessity. She was in the palace, surrounded by the most distinguished ladies of the court, tremblingly awaiting the issue. When the thunder of the artillery commenced in the streets, she threw herself upon her knees, and, weeping bitterly, continued in prayer until she was informed that the revolt was crushed, and that her husband was safe. The number slain is not known. That it might be concealed, the bodies were immediately thrust through holes cut in the ice of the Neva.

Though the friends of liberty can not but regret that free principles have obtained so slender a foothold in Russia, it is manifest that this attempt could lead only to anarchy. The masses of the nobles were thoroughly corrupt, and the masses of the people ignorant and debased. The Russian word for constitution, constitutsya, has a feminine termination. Many of the people, it is reported, who were shouting, "Constantine and the constitution for ever," thought that the constitution was the wife of Constantine. It must be admitted that such ignorance presents but a poor qualification for republican institutions.

At the close of this bloody day, one of the leading conspirators, a general of high position in the army was led a captive into the presence of Nicholas. The heroic republican met, without quailing, the proud eye of his sovereign.

"Your father," said Nicholas sternly, "was a faithful servant, but he has left behind him a degenerate son. For such an enterprise as yours large resources were requisite. On what did you rely?"

"Sire," replied the prisoner, "matters of this kind can not be spoken of before witnesses."

Nicholas led the conspirator into a private apartment, and for a long time conversed with him alone. Here the tzar had opened before him, in the clearest manner, the intolerable burdens of the people, the oppression of the nobles, the impotency of the laws, the venality of the judges, the corruption which pervaded all departments of the government, legislative, executive and judiciary. The noble conspirator, whose mind was illumined with those views of human rights which, from the French Revolution, were radiating throughout Europe, revealed all the corruptions of the State in the earnest and honest language of a man who was making a dying declaration. Nicholas listened to truths such as seldom reach the ears of a monarch; and these truths probably produced a powerful impression upon him in his subsequent career.

Many of the conspirators, in accordance with the barbaric code of Russia, were punished with awful severity. Some were whipped to death. Some were mutilated and exiled to Siberia, and many perished on the scaffold. Fifteen officers of high rank were placed together beneath the gibbet, with ropes around their necks. As the drop fell, the rope of one broke, and he fell to the ground. Bruised and half stunned he rose upon his knees, and looking sadly around exclaimed,

"Truly nothing ever succeeds with me, not even death."

Another rope was procured, and this unhappy man, whose words indicated an entire life of disappointment and woe, was launched into the world of spirits.

We have before spoken of the palace of Peterhoff, a few miles from St. Petersburg, on the southern shores of the bay of Cronstadt. It is now the St. Cloud of Russia, the favorite rural retreat of the Russian tzars. This palace, which has been the slow growth of ages, consists of a pile of buildings of every conceivable order of architecture. It is furnished with all the appliances of luxury which Europe or Asia can produce. The pleasure grounds, in their artistic embellishments, are perhaps unsurpassed by any others in the world. Fountains, groves, lawns, lakes, cascades and statues, bewilder and delight the spectator.

There is an annual fête on this ground in July, which assembles all the elite of Russian society. The spacious gardens are by night illuminated with almost inconceivable splendor. The whole forest blazes with innumerable torches, and every leaf, twig and drop of spray twinkles with colored lights. Here is that famous artificial tree which has so often been described. It is so constructed with root, trunk and branch, leaf and bud as to deceive the most practiced eye. Its shade, with an inviting seat placed beneath it, lures the loiterer, through these Eden groves, to approach and rest. The moment he takes his seat he presses a spring which converts the tree into a shower bath, and from every twig jets of water in a cloud of spray, envelops the astonished stranger.

The Winter Palace at St. Petersburg is also a palace of unsurpassed splendor. More than a thousand persons habitually dwell beneath the imperial roof. No saloons more sumptuous in architecture and adornment are probably to be found in the world; neither are the exactions of court etiquette anywhere more punctiliously observed. In entering this palace a massive gateway ushers one into a hall of magnificent dimensions, so embellished with shrubs and flowers, multiplied by mirrors, that the guest is deceived into the belief that he is sauntering through the walks of a spacious flower garden. A flight of marble stairs conducts to an apartment of princely splendor, called the hall of the Marshals. Passing through this hall, one enters a suite of rooms, apparently interminable, all of extraordinary grandeur and sumptuousness, which are merely antechambers to the grand audience saloon.

In this grand saloon the emperor holds his court. Presentation day exhibits one of the most brilliant spectacles of earthly splendor and luxury. When the hour of presentation arrives some massive folding doors are thrown open, revealing the imperial chapel thronged with those who are to take part in the ceremony. First, there enters from the chapel a crowd of army officers, often a thousand in number, in their most brilliant uniform, the vanguard of the escort of the tzar. They quietly pass through the vast apartment and disappear amidst the recesses of the palace. Still the almost interminable throng, glittering in gala dresses, press on. At length the grand master of ceremonies makes his appearance announcing the approach of the emperor and empress.

The royal pair immediately enter, and bow to the representatives of other courts who may be present, and receive those who are honored with a presentation. No one is permitted to speak to their majesties but in reply to questions which they may ask. The Emperor Nicholas was very stately and reserved in his manners, and said but little. The empress, more affable, would present her ungloved hand to her guest, who would receive it and press it with fervor to his lips.

The Emperor Nicholas, during his reign, was supposed to have some ninety millions of the human family subject to his sway. With a standing army of a million of men, two hundred thousand of whom were cavalry, he possessed power unequaled by that of any other single kingdom on the globe. In the recent struggle at Sevastopol all the energies of England, France and Turkey were expended against Russia alone, and yet it was long doubtful whose banners would be victorious.

It is estimated that the territory of Russia now comprises one seventh of the habitable globe, extending from the Baltic Sea across the whole breadth of Europe and of Asia to Behring's Straits, and from the eternal ices of the north pole, almost down to the sunny shores of the Mediterranean. As the previous narrative has shown, for many ages this gigantic power has been steadily advancing towards Constantinople. The Russian flag now girdles the Euxine Sea, and notwithstanding the recent check at Sevastopol, Russia is pressing on with resistless strides towards the possession of the Hellespont. A brief sketch of the geography of those realms will give one a more vivid idea of the nature of that conflict, which now, under the title of the eastern or Turkish question, engrosses the attention of Europe.

The strait which connects the Mediterranean Sea with the Sea of Marmora was originally called the Hellespont, from the fabulous legend of a young lady, named Helle, falling into it in attempting to escape from a cruel mother-in-law. At the mouth of the Hellespont there are four strong Turkish forts, two on the European and two on the Asiatic side. These forts are called the Dardanelles, and hence, from them, the straits frequently receive the name of the Dardanelles. This strait is thirty-three miles long, occasionally expanding in width to five miles, and again being crowded by the approaching hills into a narrow channel less than half a mile in breadth. Through the serpentine navigation of these straits, with fortresses frowning upon every headland, one ascends to the Sea of Marmora, a vast inland body of water one hundred and eighty miles in length and sixty miles in breadth. Crossing this sea to the northern shore, you enter the beautiful straits of the Bosporus. Just at the point where the Bosporus enters the Sea of Marmora, upon the western shore of the straits, sits enthroned upon the hills, in peerless beauty, the imperial city of Constantine with its majestic domes, arrowy minarets and palaces of snow-white marble glittering like a fairy vision beneath the light of an oriental sun.

The straits of the Bosporus, which connect the Sea of Marmora with the Black Sea, are but fifteen miles long and of an average width of but about one fourth of a mile. In natural scenery and artistic embellishments this is probably the most beautiful reach of water upon the globe. It is the uncontradicted testimony of all tourists that the scenery of the Bosporus, in its highly-cultivated shores, its graceful sweep of hills and mountain ranges, in its gorgeous architecture, its atmospheric brilliance and in its vast accumulations of the costumes and customs of all Europe and Asia, presents a scene which can nowhere else be paralleled.

On the Asiatic shore, opposite Constantinople, lies Scutari, a beautiful city embowered in the foliage of the cyprus. An arm of the strait reaches around the northern portion of Constantinople, and furnishes for the city one of the finest harbors in the world. This bay, deep and broad, is called the Golden Horn. Until within a few years, no embassador of Christian powers was allowed to contaminate the Moslem city by taking up his residence in it. The little suburb of Pera, on the opposite side of the Golden Horn, was assigned to these embassadors, and the Turk, on this account, denominated it The swine's quarter.

Passing through the Bosporus fifteen miles, there expands before you the Euxine, or Black Sea. This inland ocean, with but one narrow outlet, receives into its bosom the Danube, the Dniester, the Dnieper, the Don and the Cuban. These streams, rolling through unmeasured leagues of Russian territory, open them to the commerce of the world. This brief sketch reveals the infinite importance of the Dardanelles and the Bosporus to Russia. This great empire, "leaning against the north pole," touches the Baltic Sea only far away amidst the ices of the North. St. Petersburg, during a large portion of the year, is blockaded by ice. Ninety millions of people are thus excluded from all the benefits of foreign commerce for a large portion of the year unless they can open a gateway to distant shores through the Bosporus and the Dardanelles.

America, with thousands of miles of Atlantic coast, manifests the greatest uneasiness in having the island of Cuba in the hands of a foreign power, lest, in case of war, her commerce in the Gulf should be embarrassed. But the Dardanelles are, in reality, the only gateway for the commerce of nearly all Russia. All her great navigable rivers, without exception, flow into the Black Sea, and thence through the Bosporus, the Marmora and the Hellespont, into the Mediterranean. And yet Russia, with her ninety millions of population—three times that of the United States—can not send a boat load of corn into the Mediterranean without bowing her flag to all the Turkish forts which frown along her pathway. And in case of war with Turkey her commerce is entirely cut off. Russia is evidently unembarrassed with any very troublesome scruples of conscience in reference to reclaiming those beautiful realms, once the home of the Christian, which the Turk has so ruthlessly and bloodily invaded. In assailing the Turk, the Russian feels that he is fighting for his religion.