Although the current Crimean crisis can be immediately traced to economic, political and national factors, it is also rooted in a much deeper history of conflict over control of the region. The Crimean War of the mid-19th century is largely forgotten today but its impact still resonates, as it provides a fascinating look at the bloody consequences of Great Power meddling in the region.
Much like the protection of Russian-speaking peoples is the pretext for current regional involvement, the protection of Orthodox Christians became the Russian pretext for an 1853 invasion and occupation of the provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia (parts of modern-day Moldova, Romania and Ukraine), which were then part of the Muslim Ottoman Empire.
Britain, France, Prussia and Austria all attempted to broker a negotiated peace between Tsar Nicholas I of Russia and his counterpart, Sultan Abdulmecid I, but to no avail. On Oct. 23, 1853, the Sultan declared war and two massive military forces prepared to do battle.
Britain and France were already very concerned about a possible Russian victory. The Ottoman Empire was often labelled the “sick man of Europe” in reference to its crumbling status as a world power. Its military, although large, very much reflected the country’s status as a declining global force.
Were Russia to defeat the Turks, British leaders feared they would acquire territory that could threaten British influence in the Mediterranean.
Napoleon III of France, the nephew of Napoleon Bonaparte, saw in this potential conflict an opportunity to restore the grandeur of his crown and the recently restored French Empire. In order to justify his country’s participation in the war, however, Napoleon III challenged Tsar Nicholas I’s claim as protector of Christians.
Thus it was that the British and French militaries prepared to ally with the Ottoman Turks. When the Russian navy destroyed an Ottoman patrol fleet at the Battle of Sinop in November 1853, the British and French officially declared war against Russia.
The first phase of the war was characterized by sporadic fighting along the Danube River, in the occupied territories of Moldavia and Wallachia. The Turks scored a series of victories, eventually driving the Russians from the region and back across their pre-war borders.
Although the initial cause of the war had now been removed, the Anglo-French-Turk forces shifted their focus to the Crimean Peninsula, intent on capturing Sevastopol, the home (then and now) of the Russian Black Sea fleet. The British and French saw this as an opportune time to remove Russian naval presence from the Black Sea once and for all.
In September 1854, on the southwest coast of the Crimean Peninsula, the allies landed on the sandy beaches of Calamita Bay (known as Calamity Bay to the British, and a popular modern-day seaside resort region). The allied expeditionary force moved rapidly down the coast and quickly surrounded the port city of Sevastopol (now interestingly surrounded by Russian or non-Russian troops — depending on who you ask — and the centre of the Crimean independence movement). While the allies prepared for a lengthy siege, the Russians set out to break it.
They struck on Oct. 25, hitting a British supply depot near the town of Balaclava, only seventeen kilometres southeast of Sevastopol. The Russians threw themselves at the allies’ first line of defence: a series of redoubts scattered along a high ridge known as the Causeway Heights, defended primarily by Ottoman troops.
With bullet and bayonet the green-jacketed Russians drove the Turks from the heights. Emboldened by this, the Russian commander ordered his cavalry to advance against the second line of defence, a mixed bag of British and Ottoman troops, composed primarily of soldiers from the crack Scottish 93rd Highland Regiment.
Forming a thin red line, the kilted highlanders, with bagpipes blaring, beat back several Russian charges. Unable to overwhelm the line of redcoats, the Russians were finally routed when a British heavy cavalry brigade crashed into their flanks, sending the Russians fleeing for cover behind the Causeway Heights.
Charge of the Light Brigade
What happened next is one of the most infamous moments in all of military history.
A confusing and ambiguous British order was issued to Lord Lucan’s Light Cavalry Brigade to charge an entrenched Russian position at the end of a long valley. The valley, running west to east, was ringed with Russian artillery on the Causeway Heights to the south and the Fedioukine Heights to the north.
Lord Lucan, not comprehending the insane order, asked the messenger “Attack where sir?!” The messenger replied, pointing towards the Russians at the end of the valley, “There my Lord is your enemy! There are your guns!”
And thus 700 British cavalrymen charged down an artillery-swept valley (later dubbed “the valley of Death” by the poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson), losing one-third of their force in one of the most famous military blunders in British history.
Although the Russians had gained the heights and devastated this cavalry attack, the Battle of Balaclava had ended in a draw.
More importantly, they were unable to threaten the British siege of Sevastopol. The Russians attempted several more bloody and costly attacks aimed at disrupting the allied siege but to no avail. On Sept. 9, 1855, the city of Sevastopol fell to the allies.
The conflict had also reached other theatres. Minor naval skirmishes broke out in the White Sea near the Russo-Finnish border and the Pacific Ocean, clashes occurred in the Baltic, and battles raged in the Caucasus region. Yet with the fall of Sevastopol and public sentiment in France and Britain turning against continuation of the war, both sides were ready for peace.
The Treaty of Paris in March of 1856 returned much of the pre-war territory to the Russian and Ottoman Empire. Yet both parties agreed, under pressure from the European powers, not to establish any naval presence on the Black Sea.
This conflict was very much the harbinger of the arrival of modern warfare, specifically in regards to medical practices and information.
Florence Nightingale established her reputation in developing some of the earliest modern battlefield medical practices as a frontline nurse for the British forces. A shocking 76 per ent of British casualties were a result of disease and not combat. (Overall it is generally agreed that the war killed and wounded more than 500,000 soldiers.)
Secondly, the telegraph and early photographic techniques brought this war into the homes of civilian populations like never before. At its peak, a lag of only one day separated the events of the war from newspapers back in Britain.
Finally, this conflict highlights the historical link between Russians and the Crimea. As part of the Russian empire for many years, large communities of Russian-speaking peoples were established (the peninsula having a large majority of Russian-speaking Ukrainians) and would go on to play an important role in the history of the Ukraine.
Today, as Russian soldiers and Russian-speaking Ukrainians face off against their Slavic brethren, it is more important than ever to understand the context in which the current crisis is shaped. We can only hope that cooler heads prevail . . . and the Crimean War remains the stuff of history.
David Borys is a military historian from the University of Northern British Columbia. Find him on twitter@docborys