The Sun.
London, England, 1854-11-30 00:00:00

..- -

~'r';

IV"
-

~, . . .es.• : ae-
have become masters of the town alike ; wherease On hi
contrary, the taking of the town will not make foe ma;-;;s
ters of the northern forts ; you would have to return, for
besieging them, to where you had better have begun
were it not likely that, in taking the town, you would
have to do what you did at Bomarsund, and sail off, and
swiftly too, or would have, in your turn, to stand a
siege, with the difference that while you were the besiegers
Russia had to stand the siege in a fortified place ; you,
on the contrary, would have to stand it amid ruins,
yawning, shattered, and smouldering. Even as to the
battle of Alma, glorious as it had been in personal gallantry
from the Commander-in-Chief down to the last in rank and
file, I cannot help thinking that it has been a wanton sa-
crifice of valuable life, and very defective in plan. A.
strong position should never be attacked when it can be car-
ried by turning it. And this was evidently the case.
A march of two English miles, up' the Alma,' must
have forced the Russians either to retreat or to chenge
their front with the loss of all the advantages of the position.
Not the wings of the line of battle, bat the position had to
be turned. And as to the battle itself, why the plan of
turning both the wings of a line of kettle- is certainly thel
worst plan which coul Ibe imagined. It is condemned by,
theory, as well as by all the history of modernewarfare,
Also it did not succeed on the eight esingqhf the enemy
where it would have_been_of ilapigelsge ; =e SUcOMS ssn
the other wing wad just
bent on the genercisity ix
being di•iren into the Awe Jr
preserving Ithe Russians from
ap neneh as if.the French had been
ease the English flanking
esevemeut sueeeedeite--And bee—the 'battle was reduced
to a parallel attack in front, hlch will say so much as a
perreBt abserireof env, t el: It was a bull-fight,
ir
brclasts against bref.st-s;,and h rntagainst lioth. The impe-
tmesiehe4ring of the Frenish °ldlers and the stern courage
of the Ellis!" sold ere have arried the slay. The French
have gloi enslysma ntained taeit military renown, and the
English I,lier'desi.-rvad the nottepraiseees. your shilling
31111-Ponnsisfeehisinel-mil it ary ree ulattans gis ea ITU scanty
shirr in those impulses of noble ambition which the French
soldier-de:lves-from the conscience that he naming the ma--
terials to a marshal's staff in his knapsack—a neglect on
your part—by-the-bye—which is a dim spot on the shining
onnfoluestlpthhectuivilisahnttiotts
4T,ohoueywheantnedgeadinaendd tdheeaddalya----id
arollbhe
eTry
l orhweeca
considerationslithatelftlre
rsdoear pa
i(nui efdonelusiolktttilei
inindheaaostvrieeon)f mistakes
gbobeet
ghn
tieenhns
neaps
eiiatnrpru
agesedrtantilwoyonarf fforsooth.
;kihrgeeahsie Western
n easnstl3ldi
toas -.
Powers is in the very
Rus-
sia by a systematic campaign in the Crimea. Not that I
any seethe opinion that this -war should have-been brought,
or should be brought to an end without wresting the
Crimea from the Czar, and destroying his Black Sea fleet ;
but lam decidedly of the opinion, that if an attack on
Sebastopol has net, or could not have been tried by a naval
coup de main, the very next day after the outrageous
slaughter at Sinope, a systematic expedition to the Crimea
ought to have been one of the last strokes, and by no
means the first ; in no case one which I would have
undertaken to dal before I had, by successful victories in
Bessarabia and around Odessa, driven the Russians back
from the Black Sea, and perfectly isolated the Crimea from
the rest of the Russian empire. (Hear.) Then taking my
stand with the main body of my force in a convenient lo-
cality, somewhere above Odessa (which, remember, might
have been accomplished as circumstances were up to the
half of September)—l certainly would have sent some
thirty thousand men to take Sebastopol, who, heroes as
they are, with a gallant, intelligent, and experienced chief
at their head, as Lord Raglan is, would have done their
work up to this day under such circumstances, and would
have found Mensohikoff cut off from every hope of relief,
fighting, at the best, but for military reputation, as General
Chasse did at Antwerp. But in the meanwhile, I would
have been perfectly content with knowing the Russian
fleet was utterly paralysed by the very presence of your
vastly superior squadron in the Black Sea. (An easy task
with that naval force and witk a little vigilance.) I would
have been rather glad to know that the necessity of keep-
ing Sebastopol well garrisoned would serve me like a diver-
sion, by keeping so much smaller the main Russian army
which I was engaged in defeating. Bat before beating the
Russians decisively in the field, in no case would I have
severed my disposable forces as you did, by separating from
the 120,000 Turks on the Danube—in no case would I have
invited Russia to bring down upon my divided forces
100,000 men, to a position the most advantageous to you,
as certainly Sebastopol is—in no case would I have afforded
to the 100,000 Russians the additional advantage of the
strength of those fortifications, of the vast stores of their
almost unlimited armament, and of the guns of 'the ships
moored in the bay. I would have forced the Russians either
to fight without those advantages, or to go of and leave
those commodities without the 100,000 men; but in no
case would I have permitted them to combine both those
elements of strength. (Hear, hear.) Such are the facts.
I will not say that you will not take Sebastopol ; leaders
and men like those you have there may do prodigies,
though their position is certainly anything but sa- •
tisfactory. Whatever be the shadows which coming
events cast over my soul—not for anything would I throw
a damp upon the spirits of those brave men, when all
their spirits are required. Let us take for granted that
they succeed; let us anticipate the sight when the shat-
tered ruins of that glorious army will stand on the smoul-
dering ruins of Sebastopol. Well, and after ? If your
secret aim in this war has been solely the destruction of
the Russian fleet; well, this will be achieved at the sacri-
fice of the flower of both your nations ; but this you never
can dare avow ; you never can avow that your only object
in this war has been a rehearsal of Copenhagen and of Na-
variao, from mere jealousy; and if you have higher,broader
!delve, as have you must, then, supposiug you have taken
Sebastopol, I ask you—well, and after? The Crimea
taken is no security for the future to Europe. It is
no barrier which defends, but an acquisition which re-
quires defence ; and what Europe expects to have for
issue from this war is a material barrier against Russian
preponderance; a moral barrier of free nations against
despotism. (Hear, hear.) Oh, how different would be
your position now, if your Government had not sacrificed
your own safety to illiberal views, and your own success
to regards for the worst of despots and despotism. Sup-
pose you had organised a brigade of Polish exiles. (Francs,
even the Fiance of Napoleon has a foreign legion. Why
not you, who are not over abundant in men, and who have
fought nearly all your continental wars with your own
money, but with foreign armies; your own braves acting
the part which the Old Guard of Napoleon acted.) Sup-
pose you had organised a foreign legion of Polanders here,
and ordered Sir Charles Napier not to care about barren
Cronstadt, but to take Riga, and laud the Polish legion,
to call on Russian Poland to rise ; and to back them, lead
the 12,000 French, who were despatched to the Baltic
with such a pompous flourish of Imperial words, and who
did so wondrously little there. (A laugh and disapproba-
tion.) Suppose this done; and suppose, at the same time,
the Anglo-French army in the East, 100,000 strong, join-
ing the 12,000 Turks, elated by recent victory, pushing on
after the defeated Russians up Bessarabia—what would be
Russia now ? and how different would bo your position ?
(Hear, hear.) But Austria—what with Austria? I hear
the silent question of your heart's anxiety. Well, of two
things, one—either Austria would have let you do; and
then the question requires no answer, as she would have
played false against you, and in this case you had bait to
call on Hungary and Italy, and where would be Aus-
tria now ? England takes but too much the airs of
looking down upon us with the commisseratiou of
pride in politics, because I or Mazzini, or Ledru Rollin,
or these gentlemen here, or any of the proscribed
patriots of whatever land, we are but poor exiles.
England forgets that those elements to which these now
poor exiles belong may weigh to-morrow the destinies of
Europe and your own in the hollow of their hand. Why,
for a passing moment is Bonaparte not doing it? While a
few years back, you have seen him nothing more than an
exile, less entitled to reasonable hopes than the elements to
which we belong, though not leas miserable than some of
us. You forget that revolution which we assemble to come
memosato, you forget how the very Kosziners (scythemen)
of slighted Poland have mown down the invincible
Cuirassiers of Russia like grass; you forget that we Hun-
garians, abandoned, almost betrayed by all the world, we
alone have stood our ground, not only against that Austria
which England so much fears or so much loves, but stood
our ground against Russia besides, which you are three
powers to fight. (Applause.) Prudence, justice, and
humanity, alike advise you to look to nations for your
Allies, and 10, England flatters dynasties, and relies on
alliances with passing men instead of looking to lasting
nations. (Hear, hear.) Whatever be my opinions about
Napoleon with him,
to hurt them ; yet
one him, I will respect yonrt
feelings,
and your
will not alliance
ge y anything
consideration
amnenlikdeEwnhgleaenvder weleslel.
toweieh
weigh. Napoleonwould
n isw
almd eeortraelm:
may
be dying at this
Hemmayonideie
nt. by
ulWahuoykunmow? alesdyAt : h
all events, Napoleon is
verybut a passing meteor; the French nation is a lasting
luminary. (Hoar' hear.) You are allied to Napoleon.
Do you believe to have secured the alliance of the French
nation? No, you have not. And why not ? Because
your alliance purports to barter away the freedom
of Poland, Hungary, Italy, and Germany for the preca-
rious and disreputable friendship of the Hapsburgs and
the Brandenburgs. Such is your alliance witk Napoleon.
Now, do you believe that the French nation, restored to
its sovereignty—as certainly restored it will be —ever
would sanction such an alliance? No, by all that there is
sacred to men, never, never ! (Cheers.) Mind these my
words. But the question is, what have yon to do in the
situation you are placed ? You are told, for all answers,
that reinforcements shall be sent, and reinforcements wilolf
do. I went the length of England and the Highlands
uht.
Scotland, and seeing the scantiness of your rural
tion, I wondered where England
Yourabsorb your
seriously engaged in a great war. en.si findsldiers,Ponce
nation, and it is to-day true
years ago ; it is not the cities
Non Pro , rural population,
tesilo"ra:hicwhrofteurn2:::
the stout arms for the war.
and it is a duty and an obvious
rusts COMM muscalor mat
of reinforcements is wise, a Still to send the most possible
but what
t h e
But
delight, and have time too to
ments to your heart's ! pose you recruit your reinforce-
necessity besides.
you must penetrate to
tainly not. To have radical
I The real source of all trans-
form them into soldiears,lheasatebe a radical case ? Cers.
the root of the evil.
Theers.)
Every child knows this.
ties is Austria. (C
Either '
England fheta. There is the evil. Don t fear Aus-
rs Austria too much, or loves her
more than sheouig
tris ; throw her
ng Referring to what I was saying
overboard, and you are safe ; if not, not.
besides, sure to come at a later period,
shout the comparativedeheer barrenness of a success at Sebastos
believe oven now it would he better for you
to shift the theatre of the war (provided it be not
too late). Men who, 14,000 strong, have beaten 60,000
iporle—alalysuccess,
Russians, can gain no more glory by the barren laurels
gathered on the ruins of Sebastopol than they have, and
can nothing lose in their reputation by being despatched to
triumph on a better field richer, in results. And, oh ! whit
could be due with men like theee on the right spot ? To
engage in a wrong direction may be an error—to persist in
a wrong direction and sacrifice life (and such life !) may
look like a crime, the retribution of which may yet fall
heavily on your heads. Shift the theatre of the war, in-
sist peremptorily on Austria's evacuating the Principali-
ties, and on siding with or against you ; advise the Sultan
to grant independence to the Roumains and area them.
Enlist the Polish emigration—not in Turkey, but here.
Mind where the weak point of Russia is, and strike there.
And wherever a government is playing false to you, eall
on the nations it oppresses. These are your radical reme-
dies ; but remember that while in matters of internal pro-
gress you may say—by and bye we shall come to that. In
a war, everything depends on moments. Opportunity
beet is a campaign lost—may be, even more. Poland is
your surest remedy even to-day, but how much surer snd
easier would it have been six months ago. Ido not speaki,n
from even patriotic egotism. This war—such as itt s
may it be carried on, as arrainged, inthewors possible
justice,
Much est the will of
manner,
slow, but Imre, in its decrees. ;
f Hungarylialis stire to tome.
is manifestly an indication of retributive.
your Government, the freedom
eo
the
day,
but that is only a
It were sad for myself not to
Idi happiness,
of the fact that my dear
of. If I die to-clay es a
question of individual
will be free. (Great app .
se
not worth while to speak
lause.) I speak not
Hungary
let us send our
I speak as England's friend. Neither you,
from egotism. Napoleon,afford sufficient forces for that
nor even can .
ictig • tit, polio will do At Lora% Rci has many
war there. . $: e cannot say, lace "Y" Mkt
last Pc' e-

!!...r. -vrstramma
..?ii.
~..
,;-,:z .
",---.1:1,4 Fire
*_ ••-.',0
, , 4
•
-44