to escape the horrors of a Turkish visitation. The Barbarians, however, were not to be cheated of those hopedfor spoils which had attracted them from their distant plains. A numerous body entered Moldavia, laying all waste before them with fire and sword, and Jassy, though it yielded without resistance, was treated as a town taken by storm. At the same time, the main body was advancing upon Bucharest. Ipsilanti, who had marched towards the Danube with the view of opposing their progress, found his force inadequate, and could only harass them by occasional skirmishes. He had made preparations, however, to defend Bucharest; but finding that no reliance could be placed on his Wallachian confederates, he abandon. ed it to the Turks, and retreated to a strong position at Tergonitz. Theodore, at the same time, retired with his corps upon Pitesht. He was already, however, in secret communication with the Turks, to whom, it is said, he had disclosed all the movements of Ipsilanti, and, in reward of his treachery, had raised his hopes even to the hospodarship of Wallachia. Ipsilanti, informed of these intrigues, took a step, on which only a full knowledge of the circumstances could enable us to decide. Ghiorgaki, one of his most faithful and enterprizing officers, set out secretly for the camp of Theodore, surprised him in his tent, and brought him bound to Ipsilanti. The latter immediately caused him to be tried by a council of officers, and a sentence of high treason being forthwith pronounced, he was shot in an hour after. After this proceeding, which was at least very prompt, the Wallachian army was invited to join the Greek standard. A great part, however, disbanded; some joined the Turks; and, though a considerable proportion ranged them

selves under the standard of Ipsilanti, their co-operation was destined to be more fatal to him, than their enmity could have been.

The Pacha of Ibrail, having occupied Bucharest, delayed to attack Ipsilanti only till he had established such correspondences in his army, as might render victory secure. He then put his troops in motion, and came up to his antagonist, who had taken a strong position at Dragaschan. Ipsilanti displayed a skill and activity, worthy of an occasion which was nally to decide the fortunes of his cause. By a feigned retreat, he drew the Turks into an ambuscade, when two Wallachian chiefs, Kaminari Sawa and Constantin Douka, were to have fallen on their rear, and their total destruction was confidently anticipated. But these traitors had already sold themselves to the Porte, and, instead of falling on the Turks at the critical moment, went over to them, and joined in attacking the Greeks. At a desertion so unexpected, dismay and confusion spread themselves through the troops of Ipsilanti, and the greater part took to flight. One small and sacred band still stood. It contained the flower of the Grecian youth, who had been sent to study in the universities of Europe; and who, at the first dawn of their country's liberty, hastened to constitute themselves its champions. The vicinity of the principalities, and the early intelligence of Ipsilanti's movements, directed them to this quarter. They might have enlightened Greece by their knowledge, as well as defended it by their valour, had fate conducted them to a more auspicious theatre. Here they could only shed a bright expiring lustre on a ruined and dishonoured cause. Surrounded and overwhelmed by vastly superior numbers, they still disdained to yield,

and the greatest part of them, like the band of Thermopylæ, perished on the field of battle.*

Ipsilanti, with only a scattered wreck of his army, among whom were Ghiorgaki and Cantacuzene, who still remained faithful to him, effected his retreat to Rymnick. Here he emitted a proclamation, upbraiding in the bitterest terms the greater part of his troops, who, in the hour of need, had betrayed or deserted him. He gave up to the contempt of mankind, to divine justice, and to the malediction of their nation, Kaminari Sawa, and the other chiefs, whose treason had blasted his hopes. The cowards who had fled at that critical moment, he declared unworthy of the name of soldiers, renounced the title of their chief, and exhorted them to place themselves under the Turkish yoke, for which they were alone fitted. "But you," said he, "shades of the true Hellenians of the Sacred Battalion, who have been betrayed, and have sacrificed yourselves for the deliverance of your country, receive through me the thanks of the Greek nation, who will soon raise monuments that will render your name immortal."As it was necessary, how ever, to lose no time in providing for his personal safety, he hastened to pass the Austrian frontier, and to throw himself into the defiles of Transylvania. The pursuing Turks were obliged to respect the cordon, which secured the neutrality of that district. Ipsilanti now only sought to reach Greece, which he might do by passing through the territories either of

Russia or of Austria. The severity experienced from the monarch of the former state, and which had proved so fatal to his hopes, disinclined him to throw himself upon his mercy. He did not consider that Alexander, however devoted now to the principles of the monarchical alliance, had personal clemency and amability, and would not probably have proceeded to any extremities. Austria, on the other hand, considered no severity too great for the votaries of innovation. Although Ipsilanti reached Trieste, he was there discovered, arrested, and thrown into the castle of Munkatch, along with some of the chiefs of the Piedmontese revolution. So closely was he immured, that the place of his confinement was not known till four months after.

Although Ipsilanti had thus given up the cause in despair, Ghiorgaki, and some other chiefs, resolved to make another effort in its support. Having collected some of their scattered adherents, they carried on a partizan war for some months with considerable vigour. This desultory contest cost the Turks a considerable number of men; but it could produce no permanent effect, and Wallachia was finally reduced to a state of entire submission.

While the Porte was thus carrying on these successful operations against the first theatre of insurrection, it was not neglectful of that equally formidable one, which had broken out in the Morea and the islands. To carry it on with success a fleet was indispensable; yet the means of equip

ping one formed the greatest difficulty under which it laboured. There was no deficiency, indeed, of the necessary materiel; but there was an absence of any living instruments, by which it should have been moved. The Greeks, who were the only sailors in the empire, having all disappeared, left no resource for manning the imperial navy. In this extremity, various shifts were resorted to. A few Barbary sailors were found and employed. The boatmen on the canal of Constantinople were then pressed into the service. A certain number of deserters from the European navies, who had repaired to Constantinople, were induced by high pay and privileges to go on board. There being still a great blank, a number of the troops, newly levied for the land service, were thrust on board, and obliged to practise seamanship as they best could. Still the vast mass was little more than a body without a soul, and had nothing in its superior force which could enable it to cope with the vast superiority of skill and address on the part of their adversaries. The command was intrusted to an able man, newly raised to the situation of Captain Pacha; but, as the accounts from Smyrna represented the state of affairs as urgent, and pressed the sending of vessels to convey the troops destined against Samos, Tombek Zade, the second in command, was sent forward with a squadron of two ships of the line, three large frigates, and five transports. The Captain Pacha promised speedily to follow in person. Tombek Zade appears to have been a person of very inferior courage and capacity. He spent nearly a fortnight in coasting along the Bosphorus. Passing Cape Sigeum on the 19th May, he descried the numerous flotilla of the Greeks, but made no

movements to attack it; while they, on the other hand, contented themselves with following the track of the Turkish fleet, and watching its course. The Turkish admiral continued to move slowly along the coast, till he arrived in the anchorage of Mytilene. Disconcerted then at seeing and hearing nothing of the Captain Pacha, he took the extraordinary measure of sending back a seventy-four to the Dardanelles, to inquire after the rest of the fleet. The captain set sail with fear and trembling, but, on entering the strait which separates Mytilene from the main land, he was agreeably surprised not to discover a single hostile sail. He was not aware that the Greek squadron kept itself carefully concealed behind the numerous rocks by which this channel is bordered. In this ambush they remained till they saw the ship so far advanced, that it could no longer receive succour from the rest of the fleet. A signal being then given, they were all in motion, and four of the most active were soon in close pursuit. The Turkish captain, struck with alarm, instead of making for the open sea, where everything would have been in his favour, had the incredible stupidity to throw himself into the Gulf of Adramyti, which scarcely afforded secure navigation for large merchant-vessels. The ship soon ran aground on a spot whence, from its bulk and unwieldiness, it could not be extricated for several days. It remained motionless, exposed to the attack of the pursuing squadron. The Greeks were thus enabled to escape the terrible discharge, which would have ensued from the ar

tillery ranged along its sides. Dividing themselves into two parts, placed at opposite ends, they directed their fire at once against the poop and the stern, where there were only one or

two guns to answer them. The huge vessel agitated itself like a whale under the multiplied strokes of the harpoon. All its artillery on both sides was furiously discharged, as if its mere sound rolling through empty air could have intimidated the Greeks. An attempt was also made to reach them with musketry; but those skilful mariners kept beyond its reach. They maintained an unremitting fire, which raked the vessel from end to end. The Turks maintained the combat with frantic courage, till the ship was completely perforated with balls, its masts cracking, its deck covered with dead; when they set up frightful howlings, and demanded, that the boats should be launched, that they might make for the shore. The boats were launched, but the fire being still kept up, many of them were sunk; and it is not supposed that of one thousand men, of which the crew originally consisted, two hundred ever reached land. The captain, before leaving the vessel, having failed in an attempt to blow it up, set it on fire in numerous places, and it was consumed to ashes. No sooner did the Turkish admiral, still at anchor in the road of Mytilene, receive intelligence of this catastrophe, than, in stead of seeking to avenge the loss, he thought only of his own safety, and resolved on making the best of his way back to the Dardanelles. In passing through the channel of Mytilene, he descried the four Greeks employed in dragging up the cannon of his lost ship; but, far from his thinking of attacking them, notwithstanding his vast superiority, they commenced a pursuit of him, from which he fled with all speed; and, considering himself too happy to avoid any rencounter, never slackened sail, till he found himself under the cannon of the castles of Asia.

This victory was celebrated with unbounded exultation in all the shores and havens of Greece. Thus easily, with their flotilla, to have discomfited the grand imperial fleet of the empire, seemed almost to renew the glory of their ancestors, when they vanquished, at Salamis and Mycale, the navies of the great king. They deemed themselves now the undis puted masters of the sea, and equal to any enterprize, the success of which could be attended with benefit to the general cause. In this view, their eyes were attracted by the coasts of Asia Minor, which, even amid their decline, were still fertile and popu lous, and contained several commercial cities of great importance.

No modern city has risen more rapidly to such a height of prosperity, as Aivali, or Cydonia, situated on a little bay in the Gulf of Adramyti. Forty years ago, it was a mere fishing village, inhabited by a mixture of Turks and Greeks, who were engaged in continual conflicts with each other. Economos, a Greek native, having insinuated himself into the favour of some individuals who were all powerful at Constantinople, had the address, not only to obtain for himself the government of the place, but a firman, by which no Turk was to reside there in any official capa city. This happy immunity drew from all parts of the empire the members of this nation, who were suffering under persecution, but who here dwelt in security, and carried on without interruption their industrious pursuits. Cydonia also shared in its full extent the general commercial prosperity of the nation. It thus attained a population of 40,000 inhabitants, had established large manufactures of oil, leather, and soap, and carried on a very extensive trade. It had become a sort of capital of the

Greeks; and the college, founded there in 1803, was the most distinguished in Asia. On the approach of the troubles, the Pacha of Boursa, within whose jurisdiction the place was, sent a corps of 600 men, to guard against any sudden landing. The inhabitants, however, unaccustomed to such occupants, and to their tumultuary licence, rose and drove them out. Hereupon the Pacha sent a body of 3000, which overpowered all resistance, and forcibly occupied the principal positions of the place. Amid these conflicts, the principal inhabitants hastily sought refuge in the small island of Mosconissi at the mouth of the bay, whither the Turks were unable to follow. Notice was also sent to the Grecian fleet, then hovering near Smyrna, but which immediately preferred this as a more urgent call. In the morning of the 15th June, the bay appeared covered with numerous barks filled with troops. The Turks endeavoured to prevent the landing, by occupying in force all the houses bordering on the quay; but their efforts proved vain against the Greek artillery; and, after a desperate resistance in the streets and houses, they were finally obliged to yield to the superiority of numbers and valour. Before evacuating the city, they set fire to it in more than twenty places. The flames, favoured by a violent wind, rapidly spread; and every effort was vainly made to stop the devouring conflagration. In two days, Cydonia was no more. That splendid city of the Greeks presented only a heap of ashes. The Turks avenged themselves by pillaging the adjacent villages, and carrying off the inhabitants into slavery. The population of the city were conveyed away by theGreeks, with all their movable effects, and were distributed in the islands and in the Morea.

The dismal result of this expedition proved to the Greeks that they were proceeding on an erroneous system, in attempting to form establishments on the main land of Asia Minor. That region contained a numerous and warlike population, fanatically attached to the Mussulman faith. These now poured down in vast crowds upon the coast, demanding the means of transporting themselves to the islands, where they might bathe themselves in the blood of the infidels. The catastrophe of Cydonia inflamed the passions of these barbarous hordes, and placed all the Asiatic Christians in the most awful and alarming situation.

Smyrna, the capital of Asia Minor, and the commercial metropolis of the empire, could not long escape those violent agitations. Its situation was the more critical, from being the rendezvous of all the levies made in the interior, to be employed against the islands. The administration, indeed, kept them carefully encamped without the city, and exerted itself, with very considerable diligence, to preserve internal tranquillity. Their vicinity, however, and the ravages committed by them in the surrounding districts, kept up a continual apprehension. The crowds of Greeks, who embarked at Smyrna, both from the city itself and the interior districts, expressed and spread their own alarm, and fed the irritation of the Mussulmans, who suspected them as going to join the insurrection. In such delicate circumstances, the slightest accident, a momentary quarrel between the governor and the French ambassador, a single gun discharged in the streets, spread universal dismay, and drove crowds of the inhabitants to take refuge in the neighbouring mountains. No actual violence, however, ensued till the month of May,