The City of Patra, Greece, has a wide, tree-lined street that is named Street of the Three Admirals (“Οδός τριών ναυάρχων”), as well as a square named for the “Three Allies.”
Nobody explained to me as a kid who these people were, so I found out many years later that they were the Admirals in charge of a fleet of allies that went to help the Greek revolution of the 1820s.
But history for kids is naturally different than the “real” story behind the events, so I thought I’d look into it a bit more. My findings were remarkable! Here is what was happening, behind the scenes, in those turbulent years, so critical for the Greek revolution.
The Ottoman Empire at the start of the 19th Century was already on its decline. Its own provinces, allegedly under the suzerainty of the Sultan, were in reality independent. Key to this story is Ottoman Egypt, run by the “Wali” (Viceroy, or Governor) Muhammad Ali Pasha. In the North, Orthodox Christian Russia under the Czars was a perennial enemy of the Ottomans, always having an eye toward absorbing the Ottomans’ European territories as the decline progressed. To this end, Russia would occasionally ferment a resurrection, e.g., by Greeks, to further weaken the Ottoman power from within. A heavy price was paid by Greek patriots when their inadequately supported revolutions failed.
Russia’s growing ambitions were viewed with suspicion by the Western powers of the time, mainly Britain and the newly restored France. Spain had declined after the Napoleonic wars, Germany was still a collection of states, and Italy remained divided. For Britain and France, the central aim of foreign policy was to contain Russia and preserve what they saw as a stable balance of power in Europe. The Ottoman Empire, though weakened, was considered a useful barrier to Russian expansion rather than a threat in itself. Among the educated classes in London and Paris, sympathy for the Greek cause was widespread, yet this remained an intellectual sentiment; their governments had little intention of intervening on behalf of the people actually fighting in Greece.
Greek heroes, encouraged once again by Russia, started their 1821 revolution against the Turks, and were able to establish small enclaves and “free” small areas of the mainland and Morea, and even create, in Nafplion, (Ναύπλιον) a little governmental hearth. But no foreign government had formally acknowledged or recognized them. The patriotic struggle lasted until 1827; it looked like the revolution was about to die one more disheartening time. The number of fighters had diminished, and their little Nafplion government was financially broke. But the fires of freedom were still burning, and the local bands continued their local struggles. To bring an end to this, the Sultan convinced the wali of Egypt, Muhammad Ali Pasha, to send in a sizable land army, and clear off the “infidel rebels.” He promised Muhammad Ali that, upon successful completion, he would give his son, Ibrahim, the large island of Crete as his “fief,” under the suzerainty of the Sultan. This was a tremendous prize!
Ibrahim Pasha, then about thirty-six years old and already a seasoned fighter, set out in 1825 with a large fleet and roughly sixteen thousand troops for the Morea, landing at Navarino and beginning his campaign to crush the rebellion.
As Ibrahim was sailing for the Morea, Russia’s cautious Czar Alexander died and was replaced by his brother Nicholas I, a more aggressive man of 32. It was decided to help the failing Greek revolt and, in the process, acquire more of the crumbling Ottoman territory, so desirable as part of Russia’s ambitious expansionist policy.
But the British and French were not willing to allow Russia to expand its power. Their policy was strict neutrality, to let the Greek revolution die – which was already at hand – and things to go back to their “normalcy” without the Czar gaining strength. Smart diplomacy indicated that if they could not physically stop the Russians, they could wrangle them into a joint venture – thus “corral” their actions in a way – and sail together in an expedition aimed – only- at moderating the fervor and atrocities being committed by the Ibrahim army against the Greek population of Morea, and maybe bringing about a truce. Already, Ibrahim was devastating the Morea for two long years since he landed there. Thus, the allied expedition’s primary intent was not to help the Greek patriots (except coincidentally, via an armistice between the Greek rebels and the Ottomans) and stop Russia from advancing their territorial aims.
So, the three Powers signed a “treaty” – really an agreement between them – and combined their navies into a fleet that sailed toward Greece to intimidate the Turco-Egyptians.
Since the British provided the largest fleet, the overall commander was the British Vice-Admiral Sir Edward Codrington, at 57, a well-respected fighting sailor, who had already 44 years service with distinction in many battles, including being captain of the spectacularly aggressive battleship “Orion” at the Battle of Trafalgar, 26 years before. At the time, he was the overall commander of the British Mediterranean fleet.
Along with him went the French fleet, under Admiral Henri de Rigny, 46, and the Russian fleet, under a Dutchman, Admiral Lodewijk van Heiden, 56, who had spent most of his naval career with the Russian navy.
After about two weeks of failed attempts to arrange a truce in October 1827, Ibrahim was still burning villages across the Morea, and scattered groups of Greek fighters continued their attacks. A true Philhellene, the former British naval officer Frank Abney Hastings, was using his own funds to operate a small steam-powered warship against the Ottoman navy. His latest success, at Itea in the Corinthian Gulf, took place while the allies were still negotiating with the Ottomans. With no sign of progress, Codrington, a man of action, saw little choice but to make a show of force and put an end to the stalemate.
When the allied fleet reached Navarino, it brought eleven ships of the line, nine frigates, and several smaller vessels. Inside the bay, the combined Ottoman and Egyptian fleet was already anchored with three ships of the line, around fifteen large frigates, and many smaller craft arranged in a broad defensive arc. Any ships entering the bay would come under concentrated cannon fire from every side. The Turco-Egyptian crews had French officers serving as advisers, who, once warned by the French admiral, left their Ottoman posts before the confrontation. Although no formal state of war existed, the allied fleet entered the harbor and sent envoys to begin the expected negotiations, their diplomacy backed quietly by rows of loaded cannon.
The problem was that when two fleets approach, wary of each other, and mounting – together – over 1,800 great cannon, all loaded and run out, with their touchholes primed, their firing wicks burning, and their largely undisciplined crews ready for instant action, all it would take was an accident, or a single nervous gunner, to start a war. Codrington’s plan was unwise because the risk of events “running away” from his control was too great. His orders were to coerce, to intimidate by superior force, not fight.
Not surprisingly, fate took a turn, and an allies’ auxiliary vessel, sent to deal with some “preliminaries,” was fired upon by some hothead. The fire was returned, and next thing, the whole of both fleets started firing at each other. It’s unclear if there was an effort to stop the shooting, but judging by contemporary accounts, Admiral Codrington’s fighting spirit, and his opinion about his French co-Admiral’s tendency to “too much diplomacy and not enough fighting,” it is doubtful that this effort was made. It was, anyway, impossible to stop once the cannonade started. In the end, the Allies’ superior gunnery and coordination decided the battle. About two-thirds of the Ottoman and Egyptian fleet was destroyed or burned, leaving many wrecks in Navarino Bay. The victory broke Ottoman naval power in the region and marked a turning point in the Greek War of Independence.
This huge loss of the Ottoman fleet significantly weakened their national strength, so the real winner was naturally Russia, to the detriment of the British and the French. The battle was a resounding military victory, coincidentally aiding the Greek cause, but the Franco-British true mission – to block Russian aims – had failed miserably, in fact resulting in the reverse. As a direct result of this action, Codrington was recalled to England to receive awards and banquets, but was privately chastised. Although continuing to serve with distinction, he was never again given a serious command.
But he did manage to do a last, conscious, good turn for the Greek patriots; knowing he was being recalled and replaced, he sailed his fleet to Alexandria and convinced (again, with loaded cannon) the wali Muhammad Ali to pull his son Ibrahim out of the Morea, where he had continued his devastation, notwithstanding the loss of his supporting fleet.
Greek independence did not come from diplomacy alone, nor solely from Codrington’s victory. The Battle of Navarino was decisive, but full independence followed through the Russo-Turkish War of 1828–1829, the Treaty of Adrianople later that year, and finally the London Protocol of 1830. Together, these events ended centuries of Ottoman rule and confirmed Greece as a sovereign state.
The battle of Navarino did not end it all. But as its direct result, it caused, 6 months later, the Russo-Turkish war of 1828-29, plus the sending of a French expeditionary force to the Morea under General Nicholas Maison during the same period, to finally expel the Ottomans. In the treaty of Adrianople that ended the Russo-Turkish war, signed in September 1829, Turkey, which had lost heavily, ceded considerable territories to Russia and formally recognized Greece’s independence. Despite centuries of oppression, the ashes of Hellenes’ generations still contained enough sparks to re-ignite a new beginning.
Editor’s Note: This article has been reviewed and lightly updated for historical accuracy and clarity. Some images have been replaced or added to reflect better the events and figures described, while the author’s original narrative and perspective have been preserved.