1820-1828.
When Napoleon was sent to St. Helena, the European nations breathed more
freely, and it was the general expectation and desire that there would
be no more wars. The civilized world was weary of strife and
battlefields, and in the reaction which followed the general peace of
1815, the various States settled down into a state of dreamy repose. Not
only were they weary of war, but they hated the agitation of those ideas
which led to discontent and revolution. The policy of the governments of
England, France, Germany, and Russia was pacific and conservative. There
was a universal desire to recover wasted energies and develop national
resources. Visions of military glory passed away for a time with the
enjoyment of peace. Nations reflected on their follies, and resolved to
beat their swords into ploughshares.
Then began a period of philanthropy as well as of rest and reaction.
Societies were organized, especially in England, to spread the Bible in
all lands, to send missionaries to the heathen, and proclaim peace and
good-will to all mankind, A new era seemed to dawn upon the world,
marked by a desire to cultivate the arts, sciences, and literature; to
develop industries, and improve social conditions. War was seen to be
barbaric, demoralizing, and exhausting. Peace was hailed with an
enthusiasm scarcely less than that which for twenty years had created
military heroes. The Holy Alliance was not hypocritical. Although a
political compact made under a religious pretext, it was formed by
monarchs deeply impressed by the horrors of war, and by the necessity of
establishing a new basis for the happiness of mankind on the principles
of Christianity, when peace should be the law of nations; at the same
time it was formed no less to suppress those ideas which it was supposed
led logically to rebellions and revolutions, and to disturb the reign of
law, the security of established institutions, and the peaceful pursuit
of ordinary avocations. This was the view taken by the Czar Alexander,
by Frederick William of Prussia, by Francis I. of Austria, by Louis
XVIII. of France, as well as by leading statesmen like Talleyrand,
Nesselrode, Hardenberg, Chateaubriand, Metternich, Wellington, and
Castlereagh.
But these views were delusive. The world was simply weary of fighting;
it was not impressed with a sense of the wickedness, but only of the
inexpediency of war, except in case of great national dangers, or to
gain what is dearest to enlightened people,--personal liberty and
constitutional government.
Consequently, scarcely five years passed away after the fall of Napoleon
before Europe was again disturbed by revolutionary passions. There were
no international wars. On the whole, England, France, Russia, Prussia,
and Austria put aside ambitious designs of further aggrandizement, and
were disposed to keep peace with one another; and this desire lasted for
a whole generation. But there were other countries in which the flames
of insurrection broke out. The Spanish colonies of South America were
impatient of the yoke of the mother country, and sought national
independence, which they gained after a severe struggle. The
disaffection in view of royal despotism reached Spain itself, and a
revolution in that country dethroned the Bourbon king, and was
suppressed only by the aid of France. All Italy was convulsed by
revolutionary ideas and passions growing out of the cruel despotism
exercised by the various potentates who ruled that fair but unhappy
country. Insurrections were violent in Naples, in Piedmont, and in the
papal territories, and were put down not by Italian princes, but by
Austrian bayonets. As it is my design to present these in another
lecture, I simply allude to them in this connection.
But the most important revolution which occurred at this period, taking
into view its ultimate consequences and its various complications, was
that of Greece. It was different from those of Spain and Italy in this
respect, that it was a struggle not to gain political rights from
oppressive rulers, but to secure national independence. As such, it is
invested with great interest. Moreover, it was glorious, since it was
ultimately successful, after a dreadful contest with Turkey for seven
years, during which half of the population was swept away. Greece
probably would have succumbed to a powerful empire but for the aid
tardily rendered her by foreign Powers,--united in this instance, not to
suppress rebellion, but to rescue a noble and gallant people from a
cruel despotism.
Had the armed intervention of Russia, England, and France taken place at
an earlier period, much suffering and bloodshed might have been averted.
But Russia was fettered by the Holy Alliance to suppress all
insurrection and attempts at constitutional liberty wherever they might
take place, and could not, consistently with the promises given to
Austria and Prussia, join in an armed intervention, even in a matter
dear to the heart of Alexander, whose religion was that of Greece. The
Czar was placed in an awkward position. If he gave assistance to the
Greeks, whose religious faith was the same as his own and whose foe was
also the traditionary enemy of Russia, he would violate his promises,
which he always held sacred, and give umbrage to Austria. The intolerant
hatred of Alexander for all insurrections whatever induced him to stand
aloof from a contest which jeoparded the stability of thrones, and with
which in a political view, as an absolute sovereign, he had no sympathy.
On the other hand, if Alexander remained neutral, his faith would be
trodden under foot, and that by a power which he detested both
politically and religiously,--a power, too, with which Russia had often
been at war. If Turkey triumphed in the contest, rebels against a
long-constituted authority might indeed be put down; but a hostile power
would be strengthened, dangerous to all schemes of Russian
aggrandizement. Consequently Alexander was undecided in his policy; yet
his indecision tore his mind with anguish, and probably shortened his
days. He was, on the whole, a good man; but he was a despot, and did not
really know what to do. England and France, again, were weakened by the
long wars of Napoleon, and wanted repose. Their sympathies were with the
Greeks; but they shielded themselves behind the principles of
non-intervention, which were the public law of Europe.
So the poor Greeks were left for six years to struggle alone and unaided
against the whole force of the Turkish empire before relief came, when
they were on the verge of annihilation. It was the struggle of a little
country about half the size of Scotland against an empire four times as
large as Great Britain and France combined; of a population less than a
million against twenty-five millions. It was more than this: it was, in
many important respects, a war between Asia and Europe, kindred in
spirit with the old Crusades. It was a war of races and religions,
rather than of political principles; and hence it was marked by inhuman
atrocities on both sides, reminding us of the old wars between Jews and
Syrians. It was a tragedy at which the whole civilized world gazed with
blended interest and horror. It was infinitely more fierce than any
contest which has taken place in Europe for three hundred years. To the
Greeks themselves it was, after the first successes, the most
discouraging contest that I know of in human history; and yet it had all
those elements of heroism which marked the insurrection of the
Hollanders under William the Silent against the combined forces of
Austria and Spain. It was grand in its ideas, like our own Revolutionary
War; and the liberty which was finally gained was purchased by greater
sacrifices than any recorded in any war, either ancient or modern. The
war of Italian independence was a mere holiday demonstration in
comparison with it. Even the Polish wars against Russia were nothing to
it, in the sufferings which were endured and the gallant feats which
were performed.
But as Greece was a small and distant country, its memorable contest was
not invested with the interest felt for battles on a larger scale, and
which more directly affected the interests of other nations. It was not
till its complications involved Turkey and Russia in war, and affected
the whole "Eastern Question," that its historical importance was seen.
It was perhaps only the beginning of a series of wars which may drive
the Ottoman Turks out of Europe, and make Constantinople a great prize
for future conquerors.
That is unquestionably what Russia wants and covets to-day, and what the
other great Powers are determined she shall not have. Possibly Greece
may yet be the renewed seat of a Greek empire, under the protection of
the Western nations, as a barrier to Russian encroachments around the
Black Sea. There is sympathy for the Greeks; none for the Turks.
England, France, and Austria can form no lasting alliance with
Mohammedans, who may be driven back into Asia,--not by Russians, but by
a coalition of the Latin and Gothic races.
It is useless, however, to speculate on the future wars of the world. We
only know that offences must needs come so long as nations and rulers
are governed more by interests and passions than by reason or
philanthropy. When will passions and interests cease to be dominant or
disturbing forces? To these most of the wars which history records are
to be traced. And yet, whatever may be the origin or character
of wars, those who stimulate or engage in them find plausible
excuses,--necessity, patriotism, expediency, self-defence, even religion
and liberty. So long then as men are blinded by their passions and
interests, and palliate or justify their wars by either truth or
sophistry, there is but little hope that they will cease, even with the
advance of civilization. When has there been a long period unmarked by
war? When have wars been more destructive and terrible than within the
memory of this generation? It would indeed seem that when nations shall
learn that their real interests are not antagonistic, that they cannot
afford to go to war with one another, peace would then prevail as a
policy not less than as a principle. This is the hopeful view to take;
but unfortunately it is not the lesson taught by history, nor by that
philosophy which has been generally accepted by Christendom for eighteen
hundred years,--which is that men will not be governed by the loftiest
principles until the religion of Jesus shall have conquered and changed
the heart of the world, or at least of those who rule the world.
The chapter I am about to present is one of war,--cruel, merciless,
relentless war; therefore repulsive, and only interesting from the
magnitude of the issues, fought out, indeed, on a narrow strip of
territory. What matter, whether the battlefield is large or small? There
was as much heroism in the struggles of the Dutch republic as in the
wars of Napoleon; as much in our warfare for independence as in the
suppression of the Southern rebellion; as much among Cromwell's soldiers
as in the Crimean war; as much at Thermopylae as at Plataea. It is the
greatness of a cause which gives to war its only justification. A cause
is sacred from the dignity of its principles. Men are nothing;
principles are everything. Men must die. It is of comparatively little
moment whether they fall like autumn leaves or perish in a storm,--they
are alike forgotten; but their ideas and virtues are imperishable,
--eternal lessons for successive generations. History is a record not
merely of human sufferings,--these are inevitable,--but also of the
stepping-stones of progress, which indicate both the permanent welfare
of men and the Divine hand which mysteriously but really guides
and governs.
When the Greek revolution broke out, in 1820, there were about seven
hundred thousand people inhabiting a little over twenty-one thousand
square miles of territory, with a revenue of about fifteen millions of
dollars,--large for such a country of mountains and valleys. But the
soil is fertile and the climate propitious, favorable for grapes,
olives, and maize. It is a country easily defended, with its steep
mountains, its deep ravines, and rugged cliffs, and when as at that time
roads were almost impassable for carriages and artillery. Its people
have always been celebrated for bravery, industry, and frugality (like
the Swiss), but prone to jealousies and party feuds. It had in 1820 no
central government, no great capital, and no regular army. It owed
allegiance to the Sultan at Constantinople, the Turks having conquered
Greece soon after that city was taken by them in 1453.
Amid all the severities of Turkish rule for four centuries the Greeks
maintained their religion, their language, and distinctive manners. In
some places they were highly prosperous from commerce, which they
engrossed along the whole coast of the Levant and among the islands of
the Archipelago. They had six hundred vessels, bearing six thousand
guns, and manned by eighteen thousand seamen. In their beautiful
islands,--
"Where burning Sappho loved and sung,"--
abodes of industry and freedom, the Turkish pashas never set their foot,
satisfied with the tribute which was punctually paid to the Sultan.
Moreover, these islands were nurseries of seamen for the Turkish navy;
and as these seamen were indispensable to the Sultan, the country that
produced them was kindly treated. The Turks were indifferent to
commerce, and allowed the Greek merchants to get rich, provided they
paid their tribute. The Turks cared only for war and pleasure, and spent
their time in alternate excitement and lazy repose. They disdained
labor, which they bought with tribute-money or secured from slaves taken
in war. Like the Romans, they were warriors and conquerors, but became
enervated by luxury. They were hard masters, but their conquered
subjects throve by commerce and industry.
The Greeks, as to character, were not religious like the Turks, but
quicker witted. What religion they had was made up of the ceremonies and
pomps of a corrupted Christianity, but kept alive by traditions. Their
patriarch was a great personage,--practically appointed, however, by the
Sultan, and resident in Constantinople. Their clergy were married, and
were more humane and liberal than the Roman Catholic priests of Italy,
and about on a par with them in morals and influence. The Greeks were
always inquisitive and fond of knowledge, but their love of liberty has
been one of their strongest peculiarities, kept alive amid all the
oppressions to which they have been subjected. Nevertheless, unarmed, at
least on the mainland, and without fortresses, few in numbers, with
overwhelming foes, they had not, up to 1820, dared to risk a general
rebellion, for fear that they should be mercilessly slaughtered. So long
as they remained at peace their condition as a conquered people was not
so bad as it might have been, although the oppressions of tax-gatherers
and the brutality of Turkish officials had been growing more and more
intolerable. In 1770 and 1790 there had been local and unsuccessful
attempts at revolt, but nothing of importance.
Amid the political agitations which threw Spain and Italy into
revolution, however, the spirit of liberty revived among the hardy Greek
mountaineers of the mainland. Secret societies were formed, with a view
of shaking off the Turkish yoke. The aspiring and the discontented
naturally cast their eyes to Russia for aid, since there was a religious
bond between the Russians and the Greeks, and since the Russians and
Turks were mortal enemies, and since, moreover, they were encouraged to
hope for such aid by a great Russian nobleman, by birth a Greek, who was
private secretary and minister, as well as an intimate, of the Emperor
Alexander,--Count Capo d'Istrias. They were also exasperated by the
cession of Parga (a town on the mainland opposite the Ionian Islands) to
the Turks, by the treaty of 1815, which the allies carelessly
overlooked.
The flame of insurrection in 1820 did not, however, first break out in
the territory of Greece, but in Wallachia,--a Turkish province on the
north of the Danube, governed by a Greek hospodar, the capital of which
was Bucharest. This was followed by the revolt of another Turkish
province, Moldavia, bordering on Russia, from which it was separated by
the River Pruth. At Jassy, the capital, Prince Ypsilanti, a
distinguished Russian general descended from an illustrious Greek
family, raised the standard of insurrection, to which flocked the whole
Christian population of the province, who fell upon the Turkish soldiers
and massacred them. Ypsilanti had twenty thousand soldiers under his
command, against which the six hundred armed Turks could make but feeble
resistance. This apparently successful revolt produced an immense
enthusiasm throughout Greece, the inhabitants of which now eagerly took
up arms. The Greeks had been assured of the aid of Russia by Ypsilanti,
who counted without his host, however; for the Czar, then at the
Congress of Laibach, convened to put down revolutionary ideas, was
extremely angry at the conduct of Ypsilanti, and, against all
expectation, stood aloof. This was the time for him to attack Turkey,
then weakened and dilapidated; but he was tired of war. Among the Greeks
the wildest enthusiasm prevailed, especially throughout the Morea, the
ancient Peloponnesus. The peasants everywhere gathered around their
chieftains, and drove away the Turkish soldiers, inflicting on them the
grossest barbarities. In a few days the Turks possessed nothing in the
Morea but their fortresses. The Turkish garrison of Athens shut itself
up in the Acropolis. Most of the islands of the Archipelago hoisted the
standard of the Cross; and the strongest of them armed and sent out
cruisers to prey on the commerce of the enemy.
At Constantinople the news of the insurrection excited both
consternation and rage. Instant death to the Christians was the
universal cry. The Mussulmans seized the Greek patriarch, an old man of
eighty, while he was performing a religious service on Easter Sunday,
hanged him, and delivered his body to the Jews. The Sultan Mahmoud was
intensely exasperated, and ordered a levy of troops throughout his
empire to suppress the insurrection and to punish the Christians. The
atrocities which the Turks now inflicted have scarcely ever been
equalled in horror. The Christian churches were entered and sacked. At
Adrianople the Patriarch was beheaded, with eight other ecclesiastical
dignitaries. In ten days thousands of Christians in that city were
butchered, and their wives and daughters sold into slavery; while five
archbishops and three bishops were hanged in the streets, without trial.
There was scarcely a town in the empire where atrocities of the most
repulsive kind were not perpetrated on innocent and helpless people. In
Asia Minor the fanatical spirit raged with more ferocity than in
European Turkey. At Smyrna a general massacre of the Christians took
place under circumstances of peculiar atrocity, and fifteen thousand
were obliged to flee to the islands of the Archipelago to save their
lives. The Island of Cyprus, which once had a population of more than a
million, reduced at the breaking out of the insurrection to seventy
thousand, was nearly depopulated; the archbishop and five other bishops
were ruthlessly murdered. The whole island, one hundred and forty-six
miles long and sixty-three wide, was converted into a theatre of rapine,
violation, and bloodshed.
All now saw that no hope remained for Greece but in the most determined
resistance, which was nobly made. Six thousand men were soon in arms in
Thessaly. The mountaineers of Macedonia gathered into armed bands.
Thirty thousand rose in the peninsula of Cassandra and laid siege to
Salonica, a city of eighty thousand inhabitants, but were repulsed, and
fled to the mountains,--not, however, until thousands of Mussulmans were
slain. It had become "war to the knife, and the knife to the hilt." No
quarter was asked or given.
All Greece was now aroused to what was universally felt to be a death
struggle. The people eagerly responded to all patriotic influences, and
especially to war songs, some of which had been sung for more than two
thousand years. Certain of these were reproduced by the English poet
Byron, who, leaving his native land, entered heart and soul into the
desperate contest, and urged the Greeks to heroic action in memory of
their fathers.
"Then manfully despising
The Turkish tyrant's yoke,
Let your country see you rising,
And all her chains are broke.
Brave shades of chiefs and sages,
Behold the coming strife!
Hellenes of past ages
Oh, start again to life!
At the sound of trumpet, breaking
Your sleep, oh, join with me!
And the seven-hilled city seeking,
Fight, conquer, till we're free!"
Success now seemed to mark the uprising in Southern Greece; but in the
Danubian provinces, without the expected aid of Russia, it was far
otherwise. Prince Ypsilanti, who had taken an active part in the
insurrection, was dismissed from the Russian service and summoned back
to Russia; but he was not discouraged, and advanced to Bucharest with
ten thousand men. In the mean time ten thousand Turks entered the
Principalities and regained Moldavia. Ypsilanti fled before the
conquering enemy, abandoned Bucharest, and was totally defeated at
Dragaschan, with the loss of all his baggage and ammunition. Only
twenty-five of his hastily collected band escaped into Transylvania.
The intelligence of this disaster would have disheartened the Greeks but
for their naval successes among the islands of the Archipelago. Hydra,
Ipsara, and Samos equipped a flotilla which drove the Turkish fleet back
to the Dardanelles with immense losses. The Greeks having now the
command of the sea, made successful incursions, and hoisted their flag
at Missolonghi, which they easily fortified, it being situated in the
midst of lagoons, like Venice, which large ships could not penetrate.
But on the mainland they suffered severe reverses. Fifteen thousand
Greeks perished at Patras; but the patriots were successful at Valtezza,
where five thousand men repulsed fifteen thousand Turks, and drove them
to seek shelter in the strong fortress of Tripolitza. The Greeks
avoiding action in the open field, succeeded in taking Navarino and
Napoli di Malvasia, and rivalled their enemies in the atrocities they
committed. They lost Athens, whose citadel they had besieged, but
defeated the Turks in Thermopylae with great slaughter, which enabled
them to reoccupy Athens and blockade the Acropolis.
Then followed the siege of Tripolitza, in the centre of the Morea, the
seat of the Pasha, where the Turks were strongly intrenched. It was soon
taken by Kolokotronis, who commanded the Greeks. The fall of this
fortress was followed by the usual massacre, in which neither age nor
sex was spared. The Greek chiefs attempted to suppress the fury and
cruelty of their followers; but their efforts were in vain, and their
cause was stained with blood needlessly shed. Yet when one remembers the
centuries during which the Turks had been slaying the men, carrying off
the women to their harems, and making slaves of the children of the
Greeks, there is less to wonder at in such an access of blind fury and
vengeance. Nine thousand Turks were massacred, or slain in the attack.
The capture of this important fortress was of immense advantage to the
Greeks, who obtained great treasures and a large amount of ammunition,
with a valuable train of artillery.
But this great success was balanced by the failure of the Greeks, under
Ypsilanti, to capture Napoli di Romania,--another strong fortress,
defended by eight hundred guns, regarded as nearly impregnable,
situated, like Gibraltar, on a great rock eight hundred feet high, the
base of which was washed by the sea. It was a rash enterprise, but came
near being successful on account of the negligence of the garrison,
which numbered only fifteen hundred men. An escalade was attempted by
Mavrokordatos, one of the heroic chieftains of the Greeks; but it was
successfully repulsed, and the attacking generals with difficulty
escaped to Argos. The Greeks also met with a reverse on the peninsula of
Cassandra, near Salonica, which proved another massacre. Three thousand
perished from Turkish scimitars, and ten thousand women and children
were sold into slavery.
Thus ended the campaign of 1821, with mutual successes and losses,
disgraced on both sides by treachery and massacres; but the Greeks were
sufficiently emboldened to declare their independence, and form a
constitution under Prince Mavrokordatos as president,--a Chian by birth,
who had been physician to the Sultan. The seat of government was fixed
at Corinth, whose fortress had been recovered from the Turks. Seven
hundred thousand people threw down the gauntlet to twenty-five millions,
and defied their power.
The following year the Greek cause indirectly suffered a great blow by
the capture and death of Ali Pasha. This ambitious and daring rebel,
from humble origin, had arisen, by energy, ability, and fraud, to a high
command under the Sultan. He became pasha of Thessaly; and having
accumulated great riches by extortion and oppression, he bought the
pashalic of Jannina, in one of the richest and most beautiful valleys
of Epirus. In the centre of a lake he built an impregnable fortress,
collected a large body of Albanian troops, and soon became master of the
whole province. He preserved an apparent neutrality between the Sultan
and the rebellious Greeks, whom, however, he secretly encouraged. In his
castle at Jannina he meditated extensive conquests and independence of
the Porte. At one time he had eighty thousand half-disciplined Albanians
under his command. The Sultan, at last suspecting his treachery,
summoned him to Constantinople, and on his refusal to appear, denounced
him as a rebel, and sent Chourchid Pasha, one of his ablest generals,
with forty thousand troops, to subdue him. This was no easy task; and
for two years, before the Greek revolution broke out, Ali had maintained
his independence. At last he found himself besieged in his island
castle, impregnable against assault, but short of provisions. From this
retreat he was decoyed by consummate art to the mainland, to meet the
Turkish general, who promised an important command and a high rank in
the Turkish service. In the power now of the Turks, he was at once
beheaded, and his head sent to Constantinople.
Ali's death set free the large army of Chourchid Pasha to be employed
against the Greeks. Aided too by the enthusiasm which the suppression of
a dangerous enemy created, the Sultan made great preparations for a
renewed attack on the Morea. The contest now assumed greater
proportions, and the reconquest of Greece seemed extremely probable.
Sixty thousand Turks, under the command of the ablest general of the
Sultan, prepared to invade the Morea. In addition, a powerful squadron,
with eight thousand troops, sailed from the Dardanelles to reinforce the
Turkish fortresses and furnish provisions. In the meantime the
insurrection extended to Chios, or Scio, an opulent and fertile island
opposite Smyrna. It had eighty thousand inhabitants, who drove the Turks
to their citadel. The Sultan, enraged at the loss of this prosperous
island, sent thirty thousand fanatical Asiatic Mussulmans, and a fleet
consisting of six ships-of-the-line, ten frigates, and twelve brigs, to
reconquer what was regarded as the garden of the Archipelago. Resistance
was impossible against such an overwhelming array of forces, who
massacred nearly the whole of the male population, and sold their wives
and children as slaves. The consuls of France and Austria remonstrated
against this unheard-of cruelty; but nothing could appease the fanatical
fury of the conquerors. The massacre has no parallel in history since
the storming of Syracuse or the sack of Bagdad, Not only were the
inhabitants swept away, but the churches, the fine villas, the scattered
houses, and the villages were burned to the ground. When the slaughter
ceased, it was found that twenty-five thousand men had been slain, and
forty-five thousand women and children had become slaves to glut the
markets of Constantinople and Egypt, while fifteen thousand had fled to
the mainland.
This great calamity, however, was partially avenged by the sailors and
chiefs of Hydra, a neighboring island, under the command of one of the
greatest heroes that the war produced,--the intrepid and fearless
Andreas Miaulis, who with fire-ships destroyed nearly the whole of the
Turkish fleet. He was aided by Constantine Canaris and George Pepinis,
equal to him in courage, who succeeded in grappling the ships of the
enemy and setting them on fire. The Turks, with the remnant of their
magnificent fleet, took refuge in the harbor of Mitylene, while the
victors returned in triumph to Ipsara, and became the masters of the
Archipelago.
The Greek operations were not so fortunate at first on the land as they
were on the sea. Mavrokordatos led in person an expedition into Epirus;
but he was no general, and failed disastrously. Even the brave Marco
Bozzaris was unable to cut his way to the relief of his countrymen, shut
up in their fortresses without an adequate supply of provisions; and all
that the Greeks could do in their great discouragement was to supply
Missolonghi with provisions and a few defenders, in anticipation of
a siege.
Epirus was now fallen, and nothing remained but a guerilla warfare.
Indeed, a striking feature of the whole revolution was "the absence of
any one great leader to concentrate the Greek forces and utilize the
splendid heroism of people and chieftains in permanent strategic
successes. The war was a succession of sporadic fights,--successes and
failures,--with small apparent mutual relations and effects." In
Macedonia, which had joined the insurrection, there were six thousand
brave mountaineers in arms; but they had to contend with fifteen
thousand regular troops under the command of the pashas of Salonica and
Thessaly, who forced the passes of the Vale of Tempe, and slew all
before them. Chourchid Pasha, having his rear provided for, with thirty
thousand men now passed through the defile of Thermopylae, appeared
before Corinth, took its citadel, advanced to Argos, dispersed the
government which had established itself there, and then pursued his
victorious career to Napoli di Romania, whose garrison he reinforced.
But the summer sun dried up the surrounding plains; there was nothing
left on which his cavalry could feed, or his men either, and he found
himself in a perilous position in the midst of victory.
The defeated Greeks now rallied under Ypsilanti and Kolokotronis, who
raised the siege of Corinth, and advanced against their foes with twelve
thousand men. The Turkish army, decimated and in fear of starvation,
resolved to cut their way through the guarded defiles, and succeeded
only by the loss of seven thousand men, with all their baggage and
military stores. The Morea was delivered from the oppressor, and the
Turkish army of thirty thousand was destroyed. Chourchid Pasha was soon
after seized with dysentery, brought about by fatigue and anxiety, to
which he succumbed; and the ablest general yet sent against the Greeks
failed disastrously, to the joy of the nation.
This great success was followed by others. The Acropolis of Athens
capitulated to the victorious Greeks, not without the usual atrocities,
and Attica, was recovered. But the mountains of Epirus were still filled
with Turkish troops, who advanced to lay siege to Missolonghi, defended
by a small garrison of four hundred men under Marco Bozzaris.
Mavrokordatos contrived to come to his relief, and the town soon had
three thousand defenders. Six times did the Turks attempt an assault
under Omar Vrione; but each time they were repulsed with great
slaughter, and compelled to retreat. The Turkish general lost three
quarters of his army, and with difficulty escaped himself in an open
boat. Altogether twelve thousand Turks perished in this disastrous
siege, with the loss of their artillery.
As the insurrection had now assumed formidable proportions in Cyprus and
Candia, a general appeal was made to Mussulmans of those islands, whose
numbers greatly exceeded the rebels. Twenty-five thousand men rallied
around the standards of the Moslems; but they were driven into their
fortresses, leaving both plains and mountains in the hands of
the Greeks.
These brave insurgents gained still another great success in this
memorable campaign. They carried the important fortress of Napoli di
Romania by escalade December 12, under Kolokotronis, with ten thousand
men, and the garrison, weakened by famine, capitulated. Four hundred
pieces of cannon, with large stores of ammunition, were the reward of
the victors. This conquest was the more remarkable since a large Turkish
fleet was sent to the relief of the fortress; but fearing the fire-ships
of the Greeks, the Turkish admiral sailed away without doing anything,
and cast anchor in the bay of Tenedos. Here he was attacked by the Greek
fire-ships, commanded by Canaris, and his fleet were obliged to cut
their cables and sail back to the Dardanelles, with the loss of their
largest ships. The conqueror was crowned with laurel at Ipsara by his
grateful countrymen, and the campaign of 1822 closed, leaving the
Greeks masters of the sea and of nearly the whole of their territory.
This campaign, considering the inequality of forces, is regarded by
Alison as one of the most glorious in the annals of war. A population of
seven hundred thousand souls had confronted and beaten the splendid
strength of the Ottoman Empire, with twenty-five millions of Mussulmans.
They had destroyed four-fifths of an army of fifty thousand men, and
made themselves masters of their principal strongholds. Twice had they
driven the Turkish fleets from the Aegean Sea with the loss of their
finest ships. But Greece, during the two years' warfare, had lost two
hundred thousand inhabitants,--not slain in battle, but massacred, and
killed by various inhumanities. It was clear that the country could not
much longer bear such a strain, unless the great Powers of Europe came
to its relief.
But no relief came. Canning, who ruled England, sympathized with the
Greeks, but would not depart from his policy of non-intervention,
fearing to embroil all Europe in war. It was the same with Louis XVIII.,
who feared the stability of his throne and dared not offend Austria, who
looked on the contest with indifference as a rebellious insurrection.
Prussia took the same ground; and even Russia stood aloof, unprepared
for war with the Turks, which would have immediately resulted if the
Czar had rendered assistance to the Greeks. Never was a nation in
greater danger of annihilation, in spite of its glorious resistance,
than was Greece at that time, for what could the remaining five hundred
thousand people do against twenty-five millions inspired with fanatical
hatred, but to sell their lives as dearly as they might? The contest was
like that of the Maccabees against the overwhelming armies of Syria.
As was to be expected, the disgraceful defeat of his fleets and armies
filled the Sultan with rage and renewed resolution. The whole power of
his empire was now called out to suppress the rebellion. He had long
meditated the destruction of that famous military corps in the Turkish
service known as the Janizaries, who were not Turks, but recruited from
the youth of the Greeks and other subject races captured in war. They
had all become Mussulmans, and were superb fighters; but their insults
and insolence, engendered by their traditional pride in the prestige of
the corps and the favor shown them by successive Sultans, filled Mahmoud
with wrath. The Sultan dissembled his resentment, however, in order to
bring all the soldiers he could command to the utter destruction of his
rebellious subjects. He deposed his grand vizier, and sent orders to all
the pashas in his dominions for a general levy of all Mussulmans
between fifteen and fifty, to assemble in Thessaly in May, 1823. He also
made the utmost efforts to repair the disasters of his fleet.
The Greeks, too, made corresponding exertions to maintain their armies.
Though weakened, they were not despondent. Their successes had filled
them with new hopes and energies. Their independence seemed to them to
be established. They even began to despise their foes. But as soon as
success seemed to have crowned their efforts they were subject to a new
danger. There were divisions, strifes, and jealousies between the
chieftains. Unity, so essential in war, was seriously jeoparded. Had
they remained united, and buried their resentments and jealousies in the
cause of patriotism, their independence possibly might have been
acknowledged. But in the absence of a central power the various generals
wished to fight on their own account, like guerilla chiefs. They would
not even submit to the National Assembly. The leaders were so full of
discords and personal ambition that they would not unite on anything.
Mavrokordatos and Ypsilanti were not on speaking terms. One is naturally
astonished at such suicidal courses, but he forgets what a powerful
passion jealousy is in the human soul. It was not absent from our own
war of Independence, in which at one time rival generals would have
supplanted, if possible, even Washington himself; indeed, it is present
everywhere, not in war alone, but among all influential and ambitious
people,--women of society, legislators, artists, physicians, singers,
actors, even clergymen, authors, and professors in colleges. This
unfortunate passion can be kept down only by the overpowering dominancy
of transcendent ability, which everybody must concede, when envy is
turned into admiration,--as in the case of Napoleon. There was no one
chieftain among the Greeks who called out universal homage any more than
there was in the camp of Agamemnon before the walls of Troy. There were
men of ability and patriotism and virtue; but, as already noted, no one
of them was great enough to exact universal and willing obedience. And
this fact was well understood in all the cabinets of Europe, as well as
in the camps of their enemies. The disunions and dissensions of the
rival Greek generals were of more advantage to the Turks than a force of
fifty thousand men.
These jealous chieftains, however, had reason to be startled in the
spring of 1823, when they heard that eighty thousand Mussulmans were to
be sent to attack the Isthmus of Corinth; that forty thousand more were
to undertake the siege of Missolonghi; that fifty thousand in addition
were to co-operate in Thessaly and Attica; while a grand fleet of one
hundred and twenty sail was to sweep the Aegean and reduce the revolted
islands. It was, however, the very magnitude of the hostile forces which
saved the Greeks from impending ruin; for these forces had to be fed in
dried-up and devastated plains, under scorching suns, in the defiles of
mountains, where artillery was of no use, and where hardy mountaineers,
behind rocks and precipices, could fire upon them unseen and without
danger. There was more loss from famine and pestilence than from
foes,--a lesson repeatedly taught for three thousand years, but one
which governments have ever been slow to learn. Alexander the Great had
learned it when he invaded Persia with a small army of veterans, rather
than with a mob of undisciplined allies. Huge armies are not to be
relied on, except when they form a vast mechanism directed by a master
hand, when they are sure of their supplies, and when they operate in a
wholesome country, with nothing to fear from malaria or inclemency of
weather. Then they can crush all before them like some terrible and
irresistible machine; but only then. This the old crusaders learned to
their cost, as well as the invading armies of Napoleon amid the snows of
Russia, and even the disciplined troops of France and England when they
marched to the siege of Sebastopol.
Hence, in spite of the divisions of the Greeks, which paralyzed their
best efforts, the Turkish armies effected but little, great as were
their numbers, in the campaign of 1823. The intrepid Marco Bozzaris,
with only five thousand men, kept the Turks at bay in Epirus, and chased
a large body of Albanians to the sea; while Odysseus defended the pass
of Thermopylae, and prevented the advance of the Turks into Southern
Greece. The grand army destined for the invasion of the Morea gradually
melted away in attacking fortresses, and under the desultory actions of
guerilla bands amidst rocks and thickets. Bozzaris surprised a Turkish
army near Missolonghi by a nocturnal attack, and although he himself
bravely perished, the attack was successful. The Turks in renewed
numbers, however, advanced to the siege of Missolonghi; but they were
again repulsed with great slaughter.
The naval campaign from which so much was expected by the Sultan also
proved a failure. As usual the Greeks resorted to their fire-ships, not
being able openly to contend with superior forces, and drove the fleet
back again to the Dardanelles. When the sea was clear, they were able to
reinforce Missolonghi with three thousand men and a large supply of
provisions; for it was foreseen that the siege would be renewed.
It was at this time, when the Greek cause was imperilled by the
dissensions of the leading chieftains; when Greece indeed was threatened
by civil war, in addition to its contest with the Turks; when the whole
country was impoverished and devastated; when the population was melting
away, and no revenue could be raised to pay the half-starved and
half-naked troops,--that Lord Byron arrived at Missolonghi to share his
fortune with the defenders of an uncertain cause. Like most scholars and
poets, he had a sentimental attachment for the classic land,--the
teacher of the ancient world; and in common with his countrymen he
admired the noble struggles and sacrifices, worthy of ancient heroes,
which the Greeks, though divided and demoralized, had put forth to
recover their liberties. His money contributions were valuable; but it
was his moral support which accomplished the most for Grecian
independence. Though unpopular and maligned at this time in England for
his immoralities and haughty disdain, he was still the greatest poet of
his age, a peer, and a man of transcendent genius of whom any country
would be proud. That such a man, embittered and in broken health, should
throw his whole soul into the contest, with a disinterestedness which
was never questioned, shows not only that he had many noble traits, but
that his example would have great weight with enlightened nations, and
open their eyes to the necessity of rallying to the cause of liberty.
The faults of the Greeks were many; but these faults were such as would
naturally be produced by four hundred years of oppression and scorn, of
craft, treachery, and insensibility to suffering. As for their
jealousies and quarrels, when was there ever a time, even in periods of
their highest glory, when these were not their national characteristics?
Interest in the affairs of Greece now began to be awakened, especially
among the English; and the result was a loan of £800,000 raised in
London for the Greek government, at the rate of £59 for £100. Greece
really obtained only £280,000, while it contracted a debt of £800,000.
Yet this disadvantageous loan was of great service to an utterly
impoverished government, about to contend with the large armies of the
Turks. The Sultan had made immense preparations for the campaign of
1824, and had obtained the assistance of the celebrated Ibrahim Pasha,
adopted son of Mohammed Ali, Pasha of Egypt, who with his Egyptian
troops had nearly subdued Crete. Over one hundred thousand men were now
directed, by sea and land, to western Greece and Missolonghi, of which
twenty thousand were disciplined Egyptian troops. With this great force
the Mussulmans assumed the offensive, and the condition of Greece was
never more critical.
First, the islands of Spezzia and Ipsara were attacked,--the latter
being little more than a barren rock, but the abode of liberty. It was
poorly defended, and was unable to cope with the Turkish armada, having
on board fifteen thousand disciplined troops. Canaris advised a combat
on the sea, but was overruled; and the consequences were fatal. The
island was taken and sacked, and all the inhabitants were put to the
sword. In addition to this great calamity, the spoil made by the victors
was immense, including two hundred pieces of artillery and ninety
vessels. Canaris, however, contrived to escape in a boat, to pursue a
victorious career with his fire-ships. The Turkish and Egyptian fleets
had effected a junction, consisting of one ship-of-the-line, twenty-five
frigates, twenty-five corvettes, fifty brigs and schooners, and two
hundred and forty transports, carrying eighty thousand soldiers and
sailors and twenty-five hundred cannon. To oppose this great armament,
the Greek admiral Miaulis had only seventy sail, manned by five thousand
sailors and carrying eight hundred guns. In spite however of this
disproportion of forces he advanced to meet the enemy, and dispersed it
with a great Turkish loss of fifteen thousand men. All that the Turks
had gained was a barren island.
On the land the Turks had more successes; but these were so indecisive
that they did not attempt to renew the siege of Missolonghi, and the
campaign of 1824 closed with a great loss to the Mussulmans. The little
army and fleet of the Greeks had repelled one hundred and twenty
thousand soldiers confident of success; but the population was now
reduced to less than five hundred thousand, becoming feebler every day,
and the national treasury was empty, while the whole country was a scene
of desolation and misery. And yet, strange to say, the Greeks continued
their dissensions while on the very brink of ruin. Stranger still, their
courage was unabated.
The year 1825 opened with brighter prospects. The rival chieftains, in
view of the desperate state of affairs, at last united, and seemingly
buried their jealousies. A new loan was contracted in London of
£2,000,000, and the naval forces were increased.
But the Turks also made their preparations for a renewed conflict, and
Ibrahim Pasha felt himself strong enough to undertake the siege of
Navarino, which fell into his hands after a brave resistance. Tripolitza
also capitulated to the Egyptian, and the Morea was occupied by his
troops after several engagements. After this the Greeks never ventured
to fight in the open field, but only in guerilla bands, in mountain
passes, and behind fortifications.
Then began the memorable siege of Missolonghi under Reschid Pasha. It
was probably the strongest town in Greece,--by reason not of its
fortifications but of the surrounding marshes and lagoons which made it
inaccessible. Into this town the armed peasantry threw themselves, with
five thousand troops under Niketas, while Miaulis with his fleet raised
the blockade by sea and supplied the town with provisions. Reschid Pasha
determined on an assault, but was driven back. Thrice he advanced with
his troops, only to be repulsed. His forces at the end of October were
reduced to three thousand men. The Sultan, irritated by successive
disasters, brought the whole disposable force of his empire to bear on
the doomed city. Ibrahim, powerfully reinforced with twenty-five
thousand men, by sea and land stormed battery after battery; yet the
Greeks held out, contending with famine and pestilence, as well as with
troops ten times their number.
At last they were unable to offer further resistance, and they resolved
on a general sortie to break through the enemy's line to a place of
safety. The women of the town put on male attire, and armed themselves
with pistols and daggers. The whole population,--men, women, and
children,--on the night of the 22d of April, 1826, issued from their
defences, crossed the moat in silence, passed the ditches and trenches,
and made their way through an opening of the besiegers' lines. For a
while the sortie seemed to be successful; but mistakes were made, a
panic ensued, and most of the flying crowd retreated back to the
deserted town, only to be massacred by Turkish scimitars. Some made
their escape. A column of nearly two thousand, after incredible
hardships, succeeded in reaching Salonica in safety; but Missolonghi
fell, with the loss of nearly ten thousand, killed, wounded, and
prisoners.
It was a great disaster, but proved in the end the foundation of Greek
independence, by creating a general burst of blended enthusiasm and
indignation throughout Europe. The heroic defence of this stronghold
against such overwhelming forces opened the eyes of European statesmen.
Public sentiment in England in favor of the struggling nation could no
longer be disregarded. Mr. Canning took up the cause, both from
enthusiasm and policy. The English ambassador at Constantinople had a
secret interview with Mavrokordatos on an island near Hydra, and
promised him the intervention of England. The death of the Czar
Alexander gave a new aspect to affairs; for his successor, Nicholas,
made up his mind to raise his standard in Turkey. The national voice of
Russia was now for war. The Duke of Wellington was sent to St.
Petersburg, nominally to congratulate the Czar on his accession, but
really to arrange for an armed intervention for the protection of
Greece. The Hellenic government ordered a general conscription; for
Ibrahim Pasha was organizing new forces for the subjection of the Morea
and the reduction of Napoli di Romania and Hydra, while a powerful
fleet put to sea from Alexandria. No sooner did this fleet appear,
however, than Canaris and Miaulis attacked it with their dreaded
fire-ships, and the forty ships of Egypt fled from fourteen small Greek
vessels, and re-entered the Dardanelles. But the Turks, always more
fortunate on land than by sea, pressed now the siege of the Acropolis,
and Athens fell into their hands early in 1827.
For six or seven years the Greeks had struggled heroically; but relief
was now at hand. Russia and England signed a protocol on the 6th of
July, and France soon after joined, to put an end to the sanguinary
contest. The terms proposed to the Sultan by the three great Powers were
moderate,--that he should still retain a nominal sovereignty over the
revolted provinces and receive an annual tribute; but the haughty and
exasperated Sultan indignantly rejected them, and made renewed
preparations to continue the contest. Ibrahim landed his forces on the
Morea and renewed his depredations. Once more the ambassadors of the
allied Powers presented their final note to the Turkish government, and
again it was insultingly disregarded. The allied admirals then entered
the port of Navarino, where the Turkish and Egyptian fleets were at
anchor, with ten ships-of-the-line, ten frigates, with other vessels,
altogether carrying thirteen hundred and twenty-four guns. The Ottoman
force consisted of seventy-nine vessels, armed with twenty-two hundred
and forty guns. Strict orders were given not to fire while negotiations
were going on; but an accidental shot from a Turkish vessel brought on a
general action, and the combined Turkish and Egyptian fleet was
literally annihilated Oct. 20, 1827. This was the greatest disaster
which the Ottoman Turks had yet experienced; indeed, it practically
ended the whole contest. Christendom at last had come to the rescue,
when Greece unaided was incapable of further resistance.
The battle of Navarino excited, of course, the wildest enthusiasm
throughout Greece, and a corresponding joy throughout Europe. Never
since the battle of Lepanto was there such a general exultation among
Christian nations. This single battle decided the fate of Greece. The
admirals of the allied fleet were doubtless "the aggressors in the
battle; but the Turks were the aggressors in the war."
Canning of England did not live to enjoy the triumph of the cause which
he had come to have so much at heart. He was the inspiring genius who
induced both Russia and France (now under Charles X.) to intervene.
Chateaubriand, the minister of Charles X., was in perfect accord with
Canning from poetical and sentimental reasons. Politically his policy
was that of Metternich, who could see no distinction between the
insurrection of Naples and that of Greece. In the great Austrian's eyes,
all people alike who aspired to gain popular liberty or constitutional
government were rebels to be crushed. Canning, however, sympathized in
his latter days with all people striving for independence, whether in
South America or Greece. But his opinion was not shared by English
statesmen of the Tory school, and he had the greatest difficulty in
bringing his colleagues over to his views. When he died, England again
relapsed into neutrality and inaction, under the government of
Wellington. Charles X. in France had no natural liking for the Greek
cause, and wanted only to be undisturbed in his schemes of despotism.
Russia, under Nicholas, determined to fight Turkey, unfettered by
allies. She sought but a pretext for a declaration of war. Turkey
furnished to Russia that pretext, right in the stress of her own
military weakness, when she was exhausted by a war of seven years, and
by the destruction of the Janizaries,--which the Sultan had long
meditated, and concealed in his own bosom with the craft which formed
one of the peculiarities of this cruel yet able sovereign, but which he
finally executed with characteristic savagery. Concerning this Russian
war we shall speak presently.
The battle of Navarino, although it made the restoration of the Turkish
power impossible in Greece, still left Ibrahim master of the fortresses,
and it was two years before the Turkish troops were finally expelled.
But independence was now assured, and the Greeks set about establishing
their government with some permanency. Before the end of that year Capo
d'Istrias was elected president for seven years, and in January, 1828,
he entered upon his office. His ideas of government were arbitrary, for
he had been the minister and favorite of Alexander. He wished to rule
like an absolute sovereign. His short reign was a sort of dictatorship.
His council was composed entirely of his creatures, and he sought at
once to destroy provincial and municipal authority. He limited the
freedom of the Press and violated the secrecy of the mails. "In Plato's
home, Plato's Gorgias could not be read because it spoke too strongly
against tyrants."
Capo d'Istrias found it hard to organize and govern amid the hostilities
of rival chieftains and the general anarchy which prevailed. Local
self-government lay at the root of Greek nationality; but this he
ignored, and set himself to organize an administrative system modelled
after that of France during the reign of Napoleon. Intellectually he
stood at the head of the nation, and was a man of great integrity of
character, as austere and upright as Guizot, having no toleration for
freebooters and peculators. He became unpopular among the sailors and
merchants, who had been so effective in the warfare with the Turks. "A
dark shadow fell over his government" as it became more harsh and
intolerant, and he was assassinated the 9th of October, 1831.
The allied sovereigns who had taken the Greeks under their protection
now felt the need of a stronger and more stable government for them than
a republic, and determined to establish an hereditary but constitutional
monarchy. The crown was offered to Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, who at
first accepted it; but when that prince began to look into the real
state of the country,--curtailed in its limits by the jealousies of the
English government, rent with anarchy and dissension, containing a
people so long enslaved that they could not make orderly use of
freedom,--he declined the proffered crown. It was then (1832) offered to
and accepted by Prince Otho of Bavaria, a minor; and thirty-five hundred
Bavarian soldiers maintained order during the three years of the
regency, which, though it developed great activity, was divided in
itself, and conspiracies took place to overthrow it. The year 1835 saw
the majority of the king, who then assumed the government. In the same
year the capital was transferred to Athens, which was nothing but a heap
of rubbish; but the city soon after had a university, and also became
an important port. In 1843, after a military revolution against the
German elements of Otho's government, which had increased from year to
year, the Greeks obtained from the king a representative constitution,
to which he took an oath in 1844.
But the limits of the kingdom were small, and neither Crete, Thessaly,
Epirus, nor the Ionian Islands were included in it. In 1846 these
islands were ceded by Great Britain to Greece, which was also
strengthened by the annexation of Thessaly. Since then the progress of
the country in material wealth and in education has been rapid. Otho
reigned till 1862, although amid occasional outbreaks of impatience and
revolt against the reactionary tendencies of his rule. In that year he
fled with his queen from a formidable uprising; and in 1863 Prince
William, son of Christian IX. King of Denmark, was elected monarch,
under the title of George I. King of the Hellenes.
The resurrection of Greece was thus finally effected. It was added to
the European kingdoms, and now bids fair to be prosperous and happy.
"Thus did the Old Hellas rise from the grave of nations. Scorched by
fire, riddled by shot, baptized by blood, she emerged victorious from
the conflict. She achieved her independence because she proved herself
worthy of it; she was trained to manhood in the only school of real
improvement,--the school of suffering."
The Greek revolution has another aspect than battles on the Morea,
massacres on the islands of the Archipelago, naval enterprises under
heroic seamen, guerilla conflicts amid the defiles of mountains, brave
defences of fortresses, dissensions and jealousies between chieftains,
treacheries and cruelties equalling those of the Turks,--another aspect
than the recovery of national independence even. It is memorable for the
complications which grew out of it, especially for the war between
Turkey and Russia, when the Emperor Nicholas, feeling that Turkey was
weakened and exhausted, sought to grasp the prize which he had long
coveted, even the possessions of the "sick man." Nicholas was the
opposite of his brother Alexander, having neither his gentleness, his
impulsiveness, his generosity, nor his indecision. He was a hard despot
of the "blood-and-iron" stamp, ambitious for aggrandizement, indifferent
to the sufferings of others, and withal a religious bigot. The Greek
rebellion, as we have seen, gave him the occasion to pick a quarrel with
the Sultan. The Danubian principalities were dearer to him than remote
possessions on the Mediterranean.
So on the 7th of May, 1828, the Russians crossed the Pruth and invaded
Moldavia and Wallachia,--provinces which had long belonged to Turkey by
right of conquest, though governed by Greek hospodars. The Danube was
crossed on the 7th of June. The Turks were in no condition to contend in
the open field with seventy thousand Russians, and they retreated to
their fortresses,--to Ibraila and Silistria on the Danube, to Varna and
Shumla in the vicinity of the Balkans. The first few weeks of the war
were marked by Russian successes. Ibraila capitulated on the 18th of
June, and the military posts on the Dobrudscha fell rapidly one after
another. But it was at Shumla that the strongest part of the Turkish
army was concentrated, under Omar Brionis, bent on defensive operations;
and thither the Czar directed his main attack. Before this stronghold
his army wasted away by sickness in the malarial month of September. The
Turks were reinforced, and moved to the relief of Varna, also invested
by Russian troops. But the season was now too far advanced for military
operations, and the Russians, after enormous losses, withdrew to the
Danube to resume the offensive the following spring. The winter was
spent in bringing up reserves. The Czar finding that he had no aptitude
as a general withdrew to his capital, intrusting the direction of the
following campaign to Diebitsch, a Prussian general, famous for his
successes and his cruelties.
In the spring of 1829 the first movement was made to seize Silistria,
toward which a great Turkish force was advancing, under Reschid Pasha,
the grand vizier. His forces experienced a great defeat; and two weeks
after, in the latter part of June, Silistria surrendered. Resistance to
the Russians was now difficult. The passes of the Balkans were left
undefended, and the invading force easily penetrated them and advanced
to Adrianople, which surrendered in a great panic. The Russians could
have been defeated had not the Turks lost their senses, for the troops
under Diebitsch were reduced to twenty thousand men. But this fact was
unknown to the Turks, who magnified the Russian forces to one hundred
thousand at least. The result was the treaty of Adrianople, on the 14th
of September,--apparently generous to the Turks, but really of great
advantage to the Russians. Russia restored to Turkey all her conquests
in Europe and Asia, except a few commercial centres on the Black Sea,
while the treaty gave to the Czar the protectorate over the Danubian
principalities, the exclusion of Turks from fortified posts on the left
bank of the Danube, free passage through the Dardanelles to the merchant
vessels of all nations at peace with the Sultan, and the free navigation
of the Black Sea.
But Constantinople still remained the capital of Turkey. The "sick man"
would not die. From jealousy of Russia the western Powers continued to
nurse him. Without their aid he was not long to live; but his existence
was deemed necessary to maintain the "balance of power," and they came
to his assistance in the Crimean War, twenty-six years later, and gave
him a new lease of life.
This is the "Eastern Question,"--How long before the Turks will be
driven out of Europe, and who shall possess Constantinople? That is a
question upon which it would be idle for me to offer speculations.
Another aspect of the question is, How far shall Russia be permitted to
make conquests in the East? This is equally insoluble.