In the meantime the English people, after their long peace of nearly forty years, were becoming restless in view of the encroachments of Russia, and were in favor of vigorous measures, even if they should lead to war.  The generation had passed away that remembered Waterloo, so that public opinion was decidedly warlike, and goaded on the ministry to measures which materially conflicted with Lord Aberdeen’s peace principles.  The idea of war with Russia became popular,—­partly from jealousy of a warlike empire that aspired to the possession of Constantinople, and partly from the English love of war itself, with its excitements, after the dulness and inaction of a long period of peace and prosperity.  In 1853 England found herself drifting into war, to the alarm and disgust of Aberdeen and Gladstone, to the joy of the people and the satisfaction of Palmerston and a majority of the cabinet.

The third party to this Crimean contest was France, then ruled by Louis Napoleon, who had lately become head of the State by a series of political usurpations and crimes that must ever be a stain on his fame.  Yet he did not feel secure on his throne; the ancient nobles, the intellect of the country, and the parliamentary leaders were against him.  They stood aloof from his government, regarding him as a traitor and a robber, who by cunning and slaughter had stolen the crown.  He was supposed to be a man of inferior intellect, whose chief merit was the ability to conceal his thoughts and hold his tongue, and whose power rested on the army, the allegiance of which he had seduced by bribes and promises.  Feeling the precariousness of his situation, and the instability of the people he had deceived with the usual Napoleonic lies, which he called “ideas,” he looked about for something to divert their minds,—­some scheme by which he could gain eclat; and the difficulties between Russia and Turkey furnished him the occasion he desired.  He determined to employ his army in aid of Turkey.  It would be difficult to show what gain would result to France, for France did not want additional territory in the East.  But a war would be popular, and Napoleon wanted popularity.  Moreover, an alliance with England, offensive and defensive, to check Russian encroachments, would strengthen his own position, social as well as political.  He needed friends.  It was his aim to enter the family of European monarchs, to be on a good footing with them, to be one of them, as a legitimate sovereign.  The English alliance might bring Victoria herself to Paris as his guest.  The former prisoner of Ham, whom everybody laughed at as a visionary or despised as an adventurer, would, by an alliance with England, become the equal of Queen Victoria, and with infinitely greater power.  She was a mere figure-head in her government, to act as her ministers directed; he, on the other hand, had France at his feet, and dictated to his ministers what they should do.

The parties, then, in the Crimean war were Russia, seeking to crush Turkey, with France and England coming to the rescue,—­ostensibly to preserve the “balance of power” in Europe.