The illusions with which official incapacity and national self-love 
have surrounded the military operations in the Crimea,* now begin 
to melt away, along with the sheet of snow which has covered the 
scene of action through the winter months. The recent pamphlet of 
Napoleon Bonaparte” says distinctly, that while in the Crimea 
everything went wrong, the generals-in-chief 

“must have been in possession of orders from their governments enjoining 
them to pass under silence and to dissimulate the obstacles which opposed 
themselves to the taking of Sevastopol”. 

This supposition is fully borne out by the reports of these 
generals,° and especially by the repeated reports which they caused 
to be sent, indirectly, from the camp,‘ as to the assault being fixed 
on such and such a day. Everybody recollects that from the 5th of 
November down to the beginning of March the European public 
was kept in constant expectation of this grand and final spectacle. 
Though continually postponed, every adjournment was to be for a 
short time only, and public curiosity was but increased by it. But 

now matters begin to take a different turn,’ and the length of the 
siege has at last called into existence a sort of public opinion in the 
camp, based upon the views publicly expressed by officers who 
know something about these matters, and the gentlemen of the 
staff are no longer able to whisper about the camp, with all the 
importance and oracularity inherent to their position, that on such 
and such a day the assault will take place and the town will be 
overwhelmed. Every private now knows better. The nature of the 
defenses, the superiority of the enemy’s fire, the disproportion of 
the besieging forces to the task before them, and, above all, the 
decisive importance of the North Fort, are by this time too well 
understood to admit of such preposterous tales being successfully 
repeated.” 

About the end of February, the Allies are said to have had 
before Sevastopol 58,000 French, 10,000 English, and 10,000 
Turks—all together about 80,000 men, which agrees pretty 
nearly with our own computations at various epochs.° Supposing 
they had even 90,000 men, they would still be unable to maintain 
the siege with one portion, and to detach the other upon an 
offensive movement against the Russians at Bakshiserai; for this 
field army of the Allies could not arrive before Bakshiserai with 
more than 40,000 men, while the Russians could bring at least 
60,000 against them in an open field, where the advantages of the 
position between Inkermann and Balaklava would not exist, and 
where, therefore, the moral superiority of the allied army would 
be considerably affected by maneuvers which could not be 
effectually employed by superior numbers of Russians either at 
Balaklava or at Inkermann.* Thus, the Allies must remain 
besieged on their Chersonese, until they are strong enough to 
advance beyond the Chernaya with something like 100,000 men. 
This shows the vicious circle in which they move: the more men 
they bring into this pestilential mouse-trap, the more they lose by 
sickness; and yet, the only way to get successfully out of it, is to 
send more men thither. 

The other expedient they have hit upon to get out of the 

scrape—the Turkish Expedition to Eupatoria*°—now turns out to 
be a perfect repetition of the original Crimean blunder. The 
Turks landed at Eupatoria are far too weak to advance into the 
interior. The intrenchments around the place appear to be so 
extensive that an army of some 20,000 men is required for their 
defense. The reports of the “battle” of February 17, before 
Eupatoria, lead to the conclusion that at least one-half of the 
40,000 men assembled there found active employment in the 
defense.* The extent of an intrenched camp intended to shelter 
40,000 men must, besides, be such that about one-half of the men 
will be required for active service in case of an attack. Thus the 
town will require about 20,000 men for its defense, and 20,000 
only remain disposable for field operations. But 20,000 men 
cannot venture more than a few miles out of Eupatoria without 
exposing themselves to all sorts of flank and rear attacks from the 
Russians, and to the risk of having their communications with the 
town intercepted. Now the Russians, having a double line of 
retreat either toward Perekop or toward Sympheropol, and being, 
besides, in their own country, can always avoid a decisive action 
with the 20,000 Turks who may emerge from Eupatoria. 

Thus, 10,000 Russians, placed at a day’s march from the town, 
will always be able to keep in check the 40,000 Turks concentrated 
in it; if they retreat for another ten or twelve miles they will be a 
match for any number of Turks who can venture to advance to 
that distance from their base of operations. In other words, 
Eupatoria is another Kalafat; but with this difference, that Kalafat 
had the Danube in its rear, and not the Black Sea, and that 
Kalafat was a defensive position, while Eupatoria is an offensive 
one. If 30,000 men at Kalafat could maintain a successful defense, 
with occasional and equally successful offensive sallies, extending 
to a limited distance, 40,000 men at Eupatoria are far too many to 
defend a place which about 1,000 English and French held for 
five months; while they are far too few for any offensive 
operations. The consequence is, that a Russian brigade, or at the 
outside a Russian division will be abundantly sufficient to check 
the whole Turkish force at Eupatoria. 

The so-called battle of Eupatoria was a mere reconnaissance on 
the part of the Russians. They advanced, 25,000 to 30,000 strong, 
' against the place from the north-west, the only available side, as 
the south is sheltered by the sea, and the east by a marshy lake, 
called Sasik. The country to the north-west of the town is formed 

by low, undulating ground, which, to judge from the maps. and 
from the experience of this action, does not command the town 
within effective field-gun range. The Russians, with a force 
inferior by 10,000 men to the garrison, and exposed besides, on 
both flanks, and especially on the right one, to the fire from the 
men-of-war in the bay, could never have had any serious intention 
of taking the place by assault. They consequently confined 
themselves to an energetic reconnaissance, opening a cannonade 
on the whole of the line, at a distance which precluded the 
possibility of serious damage; they then advanced their batteries 
nearer and nearer, keeping their columns as much as possible out 
of range, and then moved up these columns as if for attack so as 
to force the Turks to show their strength, and made one attack at 
a point where the shelter afforded by the monuments and 
shrubbery of a burying-ground allowed of their approaching close 
to the defenses. Having ascertained the situation and strength of 
the intrenchments, as well as the approximative numbers of the 
garrison, they retired, as every other army, judiciously com- 
manded, would have done. Their object was attained; that their 
losses would be greater than those of the Turks, they knew 
beforehand. This very simple affair has been magnified by the 
allied commanders into a glorious victory. People must be very 
much in want of something to boast of, if they attempt to impose 
upon the public in such a barefaced way.’ 

It certainly was a great mistake that the Russians allowed the 
Allies to maintain themselves in Eupatoria for five months, until 
the Turks came. A Russian brigade, with a sufficient number of 
twelve-pounders, might have driven them into the sea, and by a 
few slight earthworks on the shore, might even have kept the 
men-of-war at a respectful distance. If the allied fleets had 
detached an overwhelming force to Eupatoria, the place could 
have been burned down, and thus made valueless as a future base 
of operations for a landing force. But as it is, the Russians may be 
quite satisfied with having left Eupatoria in the possession of the 
Allies. Forty thousand Turks, the last remnant of the only 
respectable army Turkey ever possessed, blocked up in a narrow 
camp, where 10,000 Russians can keep them in check, and where 
they are exposed to all the diseases and sufferings of men 
crowded closely together—these forty thousand paralyzed Turks 
are a not inconsiderable deduction from the offensive forces of 
the Allies. 

The French and English, after having lost 50,000 to 60,000 
men, are still besieged on the Heracleatic Chersonese, and the 
Turks are besieged at Eupatoria, while the Russians are in full 
communication with both the North and South sides of Sevastopol, 
whose defenses are much stronger than ever.* Such is the glorious 
result of five months’ experimenting in the Crimea!? 

Written about March 16, 1855 Reproduced from the New-York 

Tribune, No. 4353, April 2, 1855, re-