But before considering the war itself, we must glance at the preliminaries,—the movements which took place making war inevitable, and which furnished the pretext for disturbing the peace of Europe.
First must be mentioned the contest for the possession of the sacred shrines in the Holy Land. Pilgrimages to these shrines took place long before Palestine fell into the hands of the Mohammedans. It was one of the passions of the Middle Ages, and it was respected even by the Turks, who willingly entered into the feelings of the Christians coming to kneel at Jerusalem. Many sacred objects of reverence, if not idolatry, were guarded by Christian monks, who were permitted by the government to cherish them in their convents. But the Greek and the Latin convents, allowed at Jerusalem by the Turkish government, equally aspired to the guardianship of the Holy Sepulchre and other sacred shrines in Jerusalem. It rested with the Turkish government to determine which of the rival churches, Greek or Latin, should have the control of the shrines, and it was a subject of perpetual controversy,—Russia, of course, defending the claims of the Greek convents, who at this time had long been the appointed guardians, and France now taking up those of the Latin; although Russia was the more earnest in the matter, as holding a right already allowed.
The new President of the French republic, in 1851, on the lookout for subjects of controversy with Russia, had directed his ambassador at Constantinople to demand from the Porte some almost forgotten grants made to the Latin Church two or three hundred years before. This demand, which the Sultan dared not refuse, was followed by the Turks’ annulling certain privileges which had long been enjoyed by the Greek convents; and thus the ancient dispute was reopened. The Greek Church throughout Russia was driven almost to frenzy by this act of the Turkish government. The Czar Nicholas, himself a zealot in religion, was indignant and furious; but the situation gave him a pretext for insults and threats that would necessarily lead to war, which he desired as eagerly as Louis Napoleon. The Porte, embarrassed and wishing for peace, leaned for advice on the English ambassador, who, as has been said, promised the mediation of England.
Then followed a series of angry negotiations and pressure made by Russia and France alternately on the Sultan in reference to the guardianship of the shrines,—as to who should possess the key of the chief door of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem and of the church at Bethlehem, Greek or Latin monks.
As the pressure made by France was the most potent, the Czar in his rage ordered one of his corps d’armee to advance to the frontiers of the Danubian provinces, and another corps to hold itself in readiness,—altogether a force of one hundred and forty-four thousand men. The world saw two great nations quarrelling about a key to the door of a church in Palestine; statesmen saw, on the one hand, the haughty ambition of Nicholas seeking pretence for a war which might open to him the gates of Constantinople, and, on the other hand, the schemes of the French emperor—for the ten-year president elected in 1851 had in just one year got himself “elected” emperor—to disturb the peace of Europe, which might end in establishing more securely his own usurpation.