(unless in Thessaly) generally settle there. Beyond Mount ta, although
they seized the best lands, the Mussulman inhabitants were chiefly
composed of the garrisons of towns with their families. Finding it
impossible to keep in subjection with a small force so many rugged
cantons, peopled by a poor and hardy race, and to hold in check the
robbers of Albania, the Sultans embraced the same policy which has
induced them to court the Greek hierarchy, and respect ecclesiastical
property,--by enlisting in their service the armed bands that they could
not destroy. When wronged or insulted, these Armatoles threw off their
allegiance, infested the roads, and pillaged the country; while such
of the peasants as were driven to despair by acts of oppression joined
their standard; the term Armatole was then exchanged for that of
Klefthis [_Kleptæs_] or Thief, a profession esteemed highly honorable,
when it was exercised sword in hand at the expense of the Moslems.
[Footnote: And apparently, we may add, when exercised at the expense of
whomsoever at sea. The old Grecian instinct, which Thucydides states so
frankly, under which all seafarers were dedicated to spoil as people
who courted attack, seems never to have been fully rooted out from the
little creeks and naval fastnesses of the Morea, and of some of the
Egean islands. Not, perhaps, the mere spirit of wrong and aggression,
but some old traditionary conceits and maxims, brought on the great
crisis of piracy, which fell under no less terrors than of the triple
thunders of the great allies.] Even in their quietest mood, these
soldiers curbed Turkish tyranny; for, the captains and Christian
primates of districts understanding each other, the former, by giving
to some of their men a hint to desert and turn Klefts, could easily
circumvent Mahometans who came on a mission disagreeable to the latter.
The habits and manners of the Armatoles, living among forests and in
mountain passes, were necessarily rude and simple: their magnificence
consisted in adorning with silver their guns, pistols, and daggers;
their amusements, in shooting at a mark, dancing, and singing the
exploits of the most celebrated chiefs. Extraordinary activity, and
endurance of hardships and fatigue, made them formidable light troops
in their native fastnesses; wrapped in shaggy cloaks, they slept on the
ground, defying the elements; and the pure mountain air gave them robust
health. Such were the warriors that, in the very worst times, kept alive
a remnant of Grecian spirit."
But all these facts of history, or institutions of policy, nay, even
the more violent appeals to the national pride in such memorable
transactions as the expatriation of the illustrious Suliotes (as also of
some eminent predatory chieftains from the Morea), were, after all, no
more than indirect excitements of the insurrectionary spirit. If it
were possible that any adequate occasion should arise for combining the
Greeks in one great movement of resistance, such continued irritations
must have the highest value, as keeping alive the national spirit, which
must finally be relied on to improve it and to turn it to account; but
it was not to be expected that any such local irritations could ever
of themselves avail to create an occasion of sufficient magnitude for
imposing silence on petty dissensions, and for organizing into any unity
of effort a country so splintered and naturally cut into independent
chambers as that of Greece. That task, transcending the strength (as
might seem) of any real agencies or powers then existing in Greece, was
assumed by a mysterious, [Footnote: Epirus and Acarnania, etc., to
the north-west; Roumelia, Thebes, Attica, to the east; the Morea, or
Peloponnesus, to the south-west; and the islands so widely dispersed in
the Egean, had from position a separate interest over and above their
common interest as members of a Christian confederacy. And in the
absence of some great representative society, there was no voice
commanding enough to merge the local interest in the universal one of
Greece. The original (or _Philomuse_ society), which adopted literature
for its ostensible object, as a mask to its political designs, expired
at Munich in 1807; but not before it had founded a successor more
directly political. Hence arose a confusion, under which many of the
crowned heads in Europe were judged uncharitably as dissemblers or as
traitors to their engagements. They had subscribed to the first society;
but they reasonably held that this did not pledge them to another,
which, though inheriting the secret purposes of the first, no longer
masked or disavowed them.] and, in some sense, a fictitious society of
corresponding members, styling itself the _Hetæria_. A more astonishing
case of mighty effects prepared and carried on to their accomplishment
by small means, magnifying their own extent through great zeal and
infinite concealment, and artifices the most subtle, is not to be
found in history. The _secret tribunal_ of the middle ages is not to be
compared with it for the depth and expansion of its combinations, or for
the impenetrability of its masque. Nor is there in the whole annals of
man a manoeuvre so admirable as that, by which this society, silently
effecting its own transfiguration, and recasting as in a crucible its
own form, organs, and most essential functions, contrived, by mere force
of seasonable silence, or by the very pomp of mystery, to carry
over from the first or innoxious model of the Hetæria, to its new
organization, all those weighty names of kings or princes who would not
have given their sanction to any association having political objects,
however artfully veiled. The early history of the Hetæria is shrouded
in the same mystery as the whole course of its political movements. Some
suppose that Alexander Maurocordato, ex-Hospodar of Wallachia, during
his long exile in Russia, founded it for the promotion of education,
about the beginning of the present century. Others ascribe it originally
to Riga. At all events, its purposes were purely intellectual in its
earliest form. In 1815, in consequence chiefly of the disappointment
which the Greeks met with in their dearest hopes from the Congress of
Vienna, the Hetæria first assumed a political character under the
secret influence of Count Capodistria, of Corfu, who, having entered the
Russian service as mere private secretary to Admiral Tchitchagoff, in
1812, had, in a space of three years, insinuated himself into the favor
of the Czar, so far as to have become his private secretary, and a
cabinet minister of Russia. He, however, still masked his final objects
under plans of literature and scientific improvement. In deep shades
he organized a vast apparatus of agents and apostles; and then retired
behind the curtain to watch or to direct the working of his blind
machine. It is an evidence of some latent nobility in the Greek
character, in the midst of that levity with which all Europe taxes it,
that never, except once, were the secrets of the society betrayed; nor
was there the least ground for jealousy offered either to the stupid
Moslems, in the very centre of whom, and round about them, the
conspiracy was daily advancing, or even to the rigorous police of
Moscow, where the Hetæria had its head-quarters. In the single instance
of treachery which occurred, it happened that the Zantiote, who made the
discovery to Ali Pacha on a motion of revenge, was himself too slenderly
and too vaguely acquainted with the final purposes of the Hetæria for
effectual mischief, having been fortunately admitted only to its lowest
degree of initiation; so that all passed off without injury to the
cause, or even personally to any of its supporters. There were, in fact,
five degrees in the Hetæria. A candidate of the lowest class (styled
_Adelphoi_, or brothers), after a minute examination of his past life
and connections, and after taking a dreadful oath, under impressive
circumstances, to be faithful in all respects to the society and his
afflicted country, and even to assassinate his nearest and dearest
relation, if detected in treachery, was instructed only in the general
fact that a design was on foot to ameliorate the condition of Greece.
The next degree of _Systimenoi_, or bachelors, who were selected with
more anxious discrimination, were informed that this design was to move
towards its object _by means of a revolution_. The third class, called
_Priests of Eleusis_, were chosen from the aristocracy; and to them it
was made known that _this revolution was near at hand_; and, also, that
there were in the society higher ranks than their own. The fourth class
was that of the _prelates_; and to this order, which never exceeded the
number of one hundred and sixteen, and comprehended the leading men
of the nation, the most unreserved information was given upon all the
secrets of the Hetæria; after which they were severally appointed to a
particular district, as superintendent of its interests, and as manager
of the whole correspondence on its concerns with the Grand Arch.
This, the crowning order and key-stone of the society, was reputed to
comprehend sixteen "mysterious and illustrious names," amongst which
were obscurely whispered those of the Czar, the Crown Prince of Bavaria
and of Wurtemburg, of the Hospodar of Wallachia, of Count Capodistria,
and some others. The orders of the Grand Arch were written in cipher,
and bore a seal having in sixteen compartments the same number
of initial letters. The revenue which it commanded must have been
considerable; for the lowest member, on his noviciate, was expected to
give at least fifty piastres (at this time about two pounds sterling);
and those of the higher degrees gave from three hundred to one thousand
each. The members communicated with each other, in mixed society, by
masonic signs.
It cannot be denied that a secret society, with the grand and almost
awful purposes of the Hetæria, spite of some taint which it had received
in its early stages from the spirit of German mummery, is fitted to
fill the imagination, and to command homage from the coldest. Whispers
circulating from mouth to mouth of some vast conspiracy mining
subterraneously beneath the very feet of their accursed oppressors;
whispers of a great deliverer at hand, whose mysterious _Labarum_, or
mighty banner of the Cross, was already dimly descried through northern
mists, and whose eagles were already scenting the carnage and "savor of
death" from innumerable hosts of Moslems; whispers of a revolution which
was again to call, as with the trumpet of resurrection, from the grave,
the land of Timoleon and Epaminondas; such were the preludings, low and
deep, to the tempestuous overture of revolt and patriotic battle which
now ran through every nook of Greece, and caused every ear to tingle.
The knowledge that this mighty cause must be sowed in
dishonor,--propagated, that is, in respect to the knowledge of its
plans, by redoubled cringings to their brutal masters, in order to
shield it from suspicion,--but that it would probably be reaped in
honor; the belief that the poor Grecian, so abject and trampled under
foot, would soon reappear amongst the nations who had a name, in
something of his original beauty and power; these dim but elevating
perceptions, and these anticipations, gave to every man the sense of
an ennobling secret confided to his individual honor, and, at the same
time, thrilled his heart with sympathetic joy, from approaching glories
that were to prove a personal inheritance to his children. Over all
Greece a sense of power, dim and vast, brooded for years; and a mighty
phantom, under the mysterious name of _Arch_, in whose cloudy equipage
were descried, gleaming at intervals, the crowns and sceptres of great
potentates, sustained, whilst it agitated their hearts. _London_ was one
of the secret watchwords in their impenetrable cipher; _Moscow_ was a
countersign; Bavaria and Austria bore mysterious parts in the drama;
and, though no sound was heard, nor voice given to the powers that were
working, yet, as if by mere force of secret sympathy, all mankind who
were worthy to participate in the enterprise seemed to be linked
in brotherhood with Greece. These notions were, much of them, mere
phantasms and delusions; but they were delusions of mighty efficacy for
arming the hearts of this oppressed country against the terrors that
must be faced; and for the whole of them Greece was indebted to
the Hetæria, and to its organized agency of apostles (as they were
technically called), who compassed land and sea as pioneers for the
coming crusade. [Footnote: Considering how very much the contest did
finally assume a religious character (even Franks being attached, not as
friends of Greece, but simply as Christians), one cannot but wonder
that this romantic term has not been applied to the Greek war in Western
Europe.]
By 1820 Greece was thoroughly inoculated with the spirit of resistance;
all things were ready, so far, perhaps, as it was possible that they
should ever be made ready under the eyes and scimitars of the enemy.
Now came the question of time,--_when_ was the revolt to begin? Some
contend, says Mr. Gordon, that the Hetæria should have waited for a
century, by which time they suppose that the growth of means in favor of
Greece would have concurred with a more than corresponding decay in her
enemy. But, to say nothing of the extreme uncertainty which attends such
remote speculation, and the utter impossibility of training men with no
personal hopes to labor for the benefit of distant generations, there
was one political argument against that course, which Mr. Gordon justly
considers unanswerable. It is this: Turkey in Europe has been long
tottering on its basis. Now, were the attempt delayed until Russia had
displaced her and occupied her seat, Greece would then have received her
liberty as a boon from the conqueror; and the construction would have
been that she held it by sufferance, and under a Russian warrant. This
argument is conclusive. But others there were who fancied that 1825 was
the year at which all the preparations for a successful revolt could
have been matured. Probably some gain in such a case would have been
balanced against some loss. But it is not necessary to discuss that
question. Accident, it was clear, might bring on the first hostile
movement at any hour, when the _minds_ of all men were prepared, let the
means in other respects be as deficient as they might. Already, in 1820,
circumstances made it evident that the outbreak of the insurrection
could not long be delayed. And, accordingly, in the following year all
Greece was in flames.
This affair of 1820 has a separate interest of its own, connected with
the character of the very celebrated person to whom it chiefly relates;
but we notice it chiefly as the real occasion, the momentary spark,
which, alighting upon the combustibles, by this time accumulated
everywhere in Greece, caused a general explosion of the long-hoarded
insurrectionary fury. Ali Pacha, the far-famed vizier of Yannina, had
long been hated profoundly by the Sultan, who in the same proportion
loved and admired his treasures. However, he was persuaded to wait for
his death, which could not (as it seemed) be far distant, rather than
risk anything upon the chances of war. And in this prudent resolution he
would have persevered, but for an affront which he could not overlook.
An Albanian, named Ismael Pasho Bey, once a member of Ali's household,
had incurred his master's deadly hatred; and, flying from his wrath to
various places under various disguises, had at length taken refuge
in Constantinople, and there sharpened the malice of Ali by attaching
himself to his enemies. Ali was still further provoked by finding that
Ismael had won the Sultan's favor, and obtained an appointment in the
palace. Mastered by his fury, Ali hired assassins to shoot his enemy in
the very midst of Constantinople, and under the very eyes of imperial
protection. The assassins failed, having only wounded him; they were
arrested, and disclosed the name of their employer.
Here was an insult which could not be forgiven: Ali Pacha was declared
a rebel and a traitor; and solemnly excommunicated by the head of the
Mussulman law. The Pachas of Europe received orders to march against
him; and a squadron was fitted out to attack him by sea.
In March, 1820, Ali became acquainted with these strong measures; which
at first he endeavored to parry by artifice and bribery. But, finding
_that_ mode of proceeding absolutely without hope, he took the bold
resolution of throwing himself, in utter defiance, upon the native
energies of his own ferocious heart. Having, however, but small reliance
on his Mahometan troops in a crisis of this magnitude, he applied for
Christian succors, and set himself to _court_ the Christians generally.
As a first step, he restored the Armatoles--that very body whose
suppression had been so favorite a measure of his policy, and pursued
so long, so earnestly, and so injuriously to his credit amongst the
Christian part of the population. It happened, at the first opening of
the campaign, that the Christians were equally courted by the Sultan's
generalissimo, Solyman, the Pacha of Thessaly. For this, however, that
Pacha was removed and decapitated; and a new leader was now appointed in
the person of that very enemy, Ismael Pasho, whose attempted murder had
brought the present storm upon Ali. Ismael was raised to the rank of
Serasker (or generalissimo), and was also made Pacha of Yannina and
Del vino. Three other armies, besides a fleet under the Captain Bey,
advanced upon Ali's territories simultaneously from different quarters.
But at that time, in defiance of these formidable and overwhelming
preparations, bets were strongly in Ali's favor amongst all who were
acquainted with his resources: for he had vast treasures, fortresses of
great strength, inexhaustible supplies of artillery and ammunition, a
country almost inaccessible, and fifteen thousand light troops, whom Mr.
Gordon, upon personal knowledge, pronounces "excellent."
Scarcely had the war commenced, when Ali was abandoned by almost the
whole of his partisans, in mere hatred of his execrable cruelty and
tyrannical government. To Ali, however, this defection brought no
despondency; and with unabated courage he prepared to defend himself to
the last, in three castles, with a garrison of three thousand men.
That he might do so with entire effect, he began by destroying his own
capital of Yannina, lest it should afford shelter to the enemy. Still
his situation would have been most critical, but for the state of
affairs in the enemy's camp. The Serasker was attended by more than
twenty other Pashas. But they were all at enmity with each other. One
of them, and the bravest, was even poisoned by the Serasker. Provisions
were running short, in consequence of their own dissensions. Winter was
fast approaching; the cannonading had produced no conspicuous effect;
and the soldiers were disbanding. In this situation, the Sultan's
lieutenants again saw the necessity of courting aid from the Christian
population of the country. Ali, on his part, never scrupled to bid
against them at any price; and at length, irritated by the ill-usage
of the Turks on their first entrance, and disgusted with the obvious
insincerity of their reluctant and momentary kindness, some of the
bravest Christian tribes (especially the celebrated Suliotes) consented
to take Ali's bribes, forgot his past outrages and unnumbered perfidies,
and, reading his sincerity in the extremity of his peril, these bravest
of the brave ranged themselves amongst the Sultan's enemies. During the
winter they gained some splendid successes; other alienated friends came
back to Ali; and even some Mahometan Beys were persuaded to take up
arms in his behalf. Upon the whole, the Turkish Divan was very seriously
alarmed; and so much so, that it superseded the Serasker Ismael,
replacing him with the famous Kourshid Pacha, at that time viceroy of
the Morea. And so ended the year 1820.
This state of affairs could not escape the attention of the vigilant
Hetæria. Here was Ali Pacha, hitherto regarded as an insurmountable
obstacle in their path, absolutely compelled by circumstances to be
their warmest friend. The Turks again, whom no circumstances could
entirely disarm, were yet crippled for the time, and their whole
attention preoccupied by another enemy, most alarming to their policy,
and most tempting to their cupidity. Such an opportunity it seemed
unpardonable to neglect. Accordingly, it was resolved to begin the
insurrection. At its head was placed Prince Alexander Ypsilanti, a son
of that Hospodar of Wallachia whose deposition by the Porte had produced
the Russian war of 1806. This prince's qualifications consisted in his
high birth, in his connection with Russia (for he had risen to the rank
of major-general in that service), and, finally (if such things can
deserve a mention), in an agreeable person and manners. For all other
and higher qualifications he was wholly below the situation and the
urgency of the crisis. His first error was in the choice of his ground.
For some reasons, which are not sufficiently explained,--possibly on
account of his family connection with those provinces,--he chose to open
the war in Moldavia and Wallachia. This resolution he took in spite
of every warning, and the most intelligent expositions of the absolute
necessity that, to be at all effectual, the first stand should be made
in Greece. He thought otherwise; and, managing the campaign after his
own ideas, he speedily involved himself in quarrels, and his
army, through the perfidy of a considerable officer, in ruinous
embarrassments. This unhappy campaign is circumstantially narrated by
Mr. Gordon in his first book; but, as it never crossed the Danube, and
had no connection with Greece except by its purposes, we shall simply
rehearse the great outline of its course. The signal for insurrection
was given in January, 1821; and Prince Ypsilanti took the field, by
crossing the Pruth in March. Early in April he received a communication
from the Emperor of Russia, which at once prostrated his hopes before
an enemy was seen. He was formally disavowed by that prince, erased
from his army-list, and severely reproached for his "_folly and
ingratitude_," in letters from two members of the Russian cabinet;
and on the 9th of April this fact was publicly notified in Yassy, the
capital of Moldavia, by the Russian consul-general. His army at this
time consisted of three thousand men, which, however, was afterwards
reinforced, but with no gunpowder except what was casually intercepted,
and no lead except some that had been stripped from the roof of an
ancient cathedral. On the 12th of May the Pacha of Ibrail opened the
campaign. A few days after, the Turkish troops began to appear in
considerable force; and on the 8th of June an alarm was suddenly
given "that the white turbans were upon them." In the engagement which
followed, the insurgent army gave way; and, though their loss was much
smaller than that of the Turks, yet, from the many blunders committed,
the consequences were disastrous; and, had the Turks pursued, there
would on that day have been an end of the insurrection. But far worse
and more decisive was the subsequent disaster of the 17th. Ypsilanti had
been again reinforced; and his advanced guard had surprised a Turkish
detachment of cavalry in such a situation that their escape seemed
impossible. Yet all was ruined by one officer of rank, who got drunk,
and advanced with an air of bravado--followed, on a principle of honor,
by a sacred battalion [_hieros lochos_], composed of five hundred Greek
volunteers, of birth and education, the very _élite_ of the insurgent
infantry. The Turks gave themselves up for lost; but, happening to
observe that this drunkard seemed unsupported by other parts of the
army, they suddenly mounted, came down upon the noble young volunteers
before they could even form in square; and nearly the whole, disdaining
to fly, were cut to pieces on the ground. An officer of rank, and
a brave man, appalled by this hideous disaster, the affair of a few
moments, rode up to the spot, and did all he could to repair it. But
the cowardly drunkard had fled at the first onset, with all his Arnauts;
panic spread rapidly; and the whole force of five thousand men fled
before eight hundred Turks, leaving four hundred men dead on the field,
of whom three hundred and fifty belonged to the sacred battalion.