In the War of the Crimea, England, no less than Russia, was fighting, not for the avowed, but unavowed object.

But frankness is not one of the virtues required by diplomacy, so perhaps of that we have no right to complain.
On the 4th of January, 1854, the allied fleets entered the Black Sea.
The Emperor Nicholas, from his palace in St.Petersburg, watched the progress of events.

He saw Menschikof vainly measuring swords with Lord Raglan at Odessa (April 22); then the overwhelming defeat at the Alma (September 20); then the sinking of the Russian fleet to protect Sebastopol, about which the battle was to rage until the end of the war.
He saw the invincible courage of his foe in that immortal act of valor, the cavalry charge at Balaklava (November 5), in obedience to an order wise when it was given, but useless and fatal when it was received--of which someone made the oft-repeated criticism--"_C'est magnifique--mais ce n'est pas la guerre_." And then he saw the power to endure during that awful winter, when the elements and official mismanagement were fighting for him, and when more English troops were perishing from cold and neglect than had been killed by Russian shot and shell.
But the immense superiority of the armies of the allies could not be doubted.

His troops, vanquished at every point, were hopelessly beleagured in Sebastopol.

The majesty of his empire was on every side insulted, his ports in every sea blockaded.