Greek refugees of the Ypsilantis troop, watercolour lithograph, 1823.
Greek refugees of the Ypsilantis troop, watercolour lithograph, 1823. Swiss National Museum

The odyssey of the Greek freedom fighters

In 1823 around 160 Greek revolutionaries ended up in Switzerland, having been defeated and persecuted by the Ottomans. They escaped on foot on a route that took them via Odessa, Bessarabia, Poland and through German states to the border in Schaffhausen.

Murielle Schlup

Murielle Schlup

Freelance art historian and cultural scientist

The Ottomans ruled Greece for almost four hundred years. While the educated and wealthy upper strata of Greek society enjoyed certain privileges, most of their compatriots, and farmers in particular, lived under oppression and in poverty. Anyone who did not convert to Islam remained a second-class citizen. Yet by the early 19th century at the latest, there were signs that the Ottoman Empire was past its peak. Weaknesses and defeats in wars against Russia and Austria made it plain to the world that its military supremacy was a thing of the past. At the same time, in the cities of southern Europe as elsewhere, an enlightened body of thought and French revolutionary ideas were gaining credence.

The secret Filiki Eteria society plans an uprising

Planning for the uprising against foreign Ottoman rule was led by the Phanariotes, a Greek elite consisting of intellectuals, merchants, and Orthodox clerics who had settled in the Phanar quarter of what was then Constantinople, now Istanbul. They maintained close relations with the influential Greek ‘colonies’ in Vienna, Paris, Trieste and Odessa, and they used their international network to canvass the whole of Europe for sympathy for the Greek cause of a sovereign Greek state. They also collected funds to prepare and conduct the uprising. It was Phanariotes who were behind the foundation in 1814, in what was then Russian Odessa, of the secret Filiki Eteria (‘Society of Friends’).
The Oath, painting by Dionysios Tsokos, 1849: a new member of the secret Filiki Eteria society swears his oath of allegiance on the Gospel. Pictured is Theódoros Kolokotrónis, one of the original Greek freedom fighters and leaders of the revolution.
The Oath, painting by Dionysios Tsokos, 1849: a new member of the secret Filiki Eteria society swears his oath of allegiance on the Gospel. Pictured is Theódoros Kolokotrónis, one of the original Greek freedom fighters and leaders of the revolution. National Historical Museum of Greece
In 1820 Constantinople-born Phanariote and Greek expatriate Alexandros Ypsilantis (1792–1828) took over as head of the Filiki Eteria. A respected officer in the service of the Russian army, he had taken part in the battle of Leipzig against Napoleon, in which he had lost his right arm. He was appointed aide-de-camp to the Tsar in 1815, and in 1817 promoted to Major General. Ypsilantis gathered a group of around 500 Greek volunteers, the Hieros Lachos (‘Sacred Band’), with whom he prepared for the violent uprising. As the place from which to unleash the revolution, Ypsilantis selected Moldavia, the Romanian principality on the Danube that was under Ottoman overlordship. Like neighbouring Walachia, it had been a demilitarised zone since 1812. Since that time the Prut river, a tributary of the Danube, had formed the border between the Ottoman and Russian empires.
Initiator of the military fight for freedom from the Ottomans: Alexandros Ypsilantis, Greek general and leader of the Hieros Lochos in the Greek War of Independence.
Initiator of the military fight for freedom from the Ottomans: Alexandros Ypsilantis, Greek general and leader of the Hieros Lochos in the Greek War of Independence. National Historical Museum of Greece
Convinced that the Romanians, equally weary of Ottoman rule, would come down on the side of the Hieros Lochos, and that Tsar Alexander I would support him in the fight, Ypsilantis decided in the spring of 1821 that the time had come. He crossed the Prut with his band of volunteers and pushed into Moldavia. At the Monastery of the Three Holy Hierarchs in the capital of Iași, he raised the Greek revolutionary flag, featuring a phoenix rising from the ashes. He also proclaimed the start of the independence uprising, and called upon all local Greeks, Romanians – and indeed all Christians – to fight for their faith and their fatherland, for their rights and their freedoms. His incendiary speech was fired up with phrases such as ‘the enemy is sick and weak’, ‘the time has come’, and ‘the support of a major power’, by which he certainly meant Russia.

Devastating defeat and flight to Odessa

Yet Ypsilantis’ convictions soon turned out to be catastrophic miscalculations. Although fundamentally well-disposed towards the Greeks, Tsar Alexander I distanced himself from Ypsilantis’ unauthorised campaign. It proved almost impossible to raise the Romanians to fight, because their resentment was directed less towards the Ottomans themselves and much more towards the local Greek Phanariotes, who occupied the highest offices in the Ottoman power apparatus and were seen as the real oppressors. The Sultan took revenge for the uprising by staging a massacre among the Greek population of Constantinople, accompanied by plunder and the desecration of churches. It culminated in the execution of the Greek Orthodox Patriarch Gregory V during the Easter vigil. At the same time the pogroms spread to other cities with substantial Greek populations.
The Sultan’s response to Ypsilantis’ uprising: massacre, plunder and destruction in Constantinople. Patriarch Gregory V is hanged.
The Sultan’s response to Ypsilantis’ uprising: massacre, plunder and destruction in Constantinople. Patriarch Gregory V is hanged.   Wikimedia
Without the military support he had hoped for, Ypsilantis and his forces suffered a devastating defeat at the hands of an Ottoman troop on 19 June 1821. Ypsilantis broke away from his men in time, but while making his escape across Austrian territory he was apprehended and held prisoner by the authorities there. As a multi-ethnic state, Austria took a very dim view of revolutionary separatists such as Ypsilantis. Many of the remaining revolutionaries, the Hieros Lochos and the comrades-in-arms who had joined them, met their deaths at the Battle of Sculeni on 29 June 1821.
War scene showing Greek freedom fighters, painted by Vryzakis Theodoros.
War scene showing Greek freedom fighters, painted by Vryzakis Theodoros. National Gallery, Athens
The survivors fled in all directions, eventually fighting their way through to Odessa on the Black Sea by the autumn of 1821. Since the threat of retribution ruled out the overland route through Ottoman territory, they planned to return home by sea. The plan was thwarted when the Ottomans blockaded the Bosporus. Any attempt to gain direct access to the Aegean was too dangerous, and since Austria had closed its borders to Greeks, there was no way through to the Adriatic, either. While the Greek fighters sat tight in Odessa, joined in increasing numbers by more Greeks fleeing the Ottoman Empire, further uprisings were flaring on the Peloponnese peninsula and the Greek islands. Most of this action ended disastrously for the Greeks, and often for the civilian population, too. The massacre of civilians on the island of Chios by Ottoman troops in the spring of 1822 did much to turn the tide of international public opinion in favour of the Greeks. It encouraged the spread of philhellenism – a fervent, romantic movement of Greece-lovers that had been growing since the late 18th century. Only now it took on political and social dimensions.

Marching from Odessa to Switzerland

Among those in Odessa who wanted to return, there was a growing realisation that by sea via the Mediterranean coast of France was the only remaining route home. With Marseille in their sights, in September 1822 a group that had grown to between 1,000 and 1,500 Greeks set out on their long journey. It took them first across Russian Bessarabia, and then on over Russian soil along the borders of Austria, until they reached Russian-controlled Poland. The hardships of the exhausting march through cold and snow, with inadequate clothing and medical care, compounded by hunger and sickness, had decimated the group. They rested briefly in Warsaw before continuing on to the German states.
Icons of the Greek uprising against the Ottoman Empire: Eugène Delacroix’s painting depicts the massacre on the Aegean island of Chios at Easter 1822, which cost the lives of almost all the population and shocked Europe.
Icons of the Greek uprising against the Ottoman Empire: Eugène Delacroix’s painting depicts the massacre on the Aegean island of Chios at Easter 1822, which cost the lives of almost all the population and shocked Europe. Wikimedia
In many places the men were helped by the philhellenic associations that had been springing up across multiple European countries since the war broke out. Switzerland was no exception. Here, the Zurich-based Zentralschweizer Philhellenenverein was ready and waiting for the Greeks’ planned transit. After a march of 2,340 kilometres, they crossed the Swiss border at Schaffhausen in January 1823. Almost as soon as they arrived came the sobering news that all neighbouring countries, except the German states, had closed their borders to Greeks. They included France. While diplomatic negotiations with France aimed at securing transit visas for the Greek group, the Zentralschweizer Philhellenenverein was working with regional associations, local committees and volunteer helpers to coordinate accommodation and care for the men. Charity drives collected money, food and clothing. Church groups and a Swiss press largely supportive of the Greeks and their freedom fight also did their bit to support the refugees.
Two portraits of Greek refugees in Zurich. Drawings by Georg Ludwig Vogel, 1823.
Two portraits of Greek refugees in Zurich. Drawings by Georg Ludwig Vogel, 1823. Swiss National Museum
The Greek freedom fighters were placed in 29 towns and communes in various cantons, finding accommodation in guest houses, hospitals, army barracks, community halls and private homes. For example, 28 men were allocated to the canton of Aargau, of whom six arrived in Zofingen on 23 February 1823. Most of them are said to have been sailors, and we know their names: Athanasios Konis (33), Panagis Nikolaos (30), Petros Papakalos (29) and his brother Pavlos Papakalos (33), all from Missolonghi, as well as Apostolis Adamis (30) from Preveza in Epirus, and Ioannis Theophilou (18) from Smyrna in Asia Minor. The philhellenes in Zofingen, chiefly the doctor and lieutenant colonel Johann Jakob Suter (1757–1831), and the Zofingen women’s association, looked after the men’s arrival. A contemporary account describes them being “provided in Christian charity with accommodation, food and drink by the local residents”. They were to live in the centre of the town in a building belonging to the marksman’s guild.
In the middle of the photograph is the building on Niklaus-Thut-Platz that housed the six ‘Zofingen Greeks’.
In the middle of the photograph is the building on Niklaus-Thut-Platz that housed the six ‘Zofingen Greeks’. Photo: Murielle Schlup
To occupy themselves, the Greeks in Zofingen took part in military exercises with Swiss soldiers, applying themselves with enthusiasm and skill, according to sources. Suter, who described the men as “of sound moral character and proper conduct” taught them how to handle Swiss army infantry weapons. All of them having shown a certain talent, they were charged with cleaning the guns in the armoury – a task for which the minutes of a Zofingen town council meeting record them being paid a total of 100 francs. The Greeks seemed to be good with their hands in other ways, too. For example, they carved two elaborate wooden warships that are preserved to this day. The larger model is a Greek frigate with three sails and 32 canons, which they christened Eleftheria (‘Freedom’). The smaller model sailing ship, a two-master, they called Argos. They gifted these two works to Johann Jakob Suter and the town of Zofingen in gratitude for their hospitality. Ownership later passed to the Museum Zofingen, founded in 1899, where they are on permanent display.
Now on display at Museum Zofingen: the Eleftheria model ship, 150 cm long. The red-and-white flag of the commune of Zofingen was attached by the Greeks, while the Greek flag is a later addition.
Now on display at Museum Zofingen: the Eleftheria model ship, 150 cm long. The red-and-white flag of the commune of Zofingen was attached by the Greeks, while the Greek flag is a later addition. Museum Zofingen
On 26 May 1823, news reached the Zofingen town council that the French government was to open the borders to the Greeks. Members of the local philhellenic society collected the money needed for the return journey by sea from Marseille to the Aegean. And so, after six months in Switzerland, the six men were finally able to set off on their onward journey on 17 August 1823. They were joined by the other ‘Aargau Greeks’, about whom there were only good accounts, so it seems. “There have been no complaints about the conduct of the Greeks in general,” a report by the cantonal government of Aargau states. “There is praise for their quiet, modest and resigned behaviour. They subject themselves willingly to all injunction and privation, and to a man express their longing to be able to return to their fatherland.” The journey led them first to Bern and on to Geneva, where all of the ‘Swiss Greeks’ wishing to return – there are said to have been some 160 – set out together on the march via Lyon to Marseille. From there, 158 sailed for their homeland in three ships. Two evidently either stayed of their own free will, or died prior to departure. In any event, on 5 July 39 men left for Hydra, where they arrived on 26 July. A further 78 men set sail on 11 September, and another 41 on 23 November 1823. Following their odyssey around half of central Europe, most of the returners will have joined the many battles happening in Greece at the time, and many will certainly have lost their lives as a result.

Intervention by major powers and liberation

The principal arena for the liberation of Greece from foreign Ottoman rule was the Peloponnese, where the revolutionaries succeeded in taking several towns. They continued to sustain significant losses, however. The massacre of Greek people in the town of Missolonghi in April 1826 marked a turning point in the War of Independence. The town had been under Ottoman siege for years, its people holed up and starving behind its fortifications. In their despair, they broke out with a final armed attack.
Section of the painting entitled Defeat of the besieged of Missolonghi, by Theodoros Vryzakis, 1853.
Section of the painting entitled Defeat of the besieged of Missolonghi, by Theodoros Vryzakis, 1853. National Gallery, Athens
Few made the escape. Most were slaughtered. Considering what fate awaited them, the Greeks remaining within the fortifications, including women and children, blew themselves up in the early morning of 10 April. Following the violent fall of Missolonghi, France, Russia and Britain decided on military intervention on the side of the Greeks. The move ultimately led to victory over the Ottomans. The sovereign Greek state was then founded as a hereditary monarchy in 1832. And what of Ypsilantis? He did not live to see the liberation of Greece. Owing to advanced illness he was released from prison in the Fortress of Terezin at the end of 1827, and died in January 1828 in Zur goldenen Birne, a Vienna guest house. He had just turned 35.

Published on: 18.04.2023

URL: https://blog.nationalmuseum.ch/en/2023/04/the-odyssey-of-the-greek-freedom-fighters/

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