The Hellas Herald – part of Greek Expedition

• How did the outside world perceive Greece in the 19th century, as the young nation began to take shape?
• What role did travel writers and artists play in shaping the image of this new Greece?
• What do the news columns tell us about 19th-century Greece, a time when it was viewed by many as an almost exotic destination?

In our new series, Hellas Herald, we are delving into travelogues, art, poetry, and contemporary newspaper archives, we are piecing together a mosaic of voices to approach the questions surrounding Greece in the 19th century.

We begin our search through this archival treasure trove with the story of the fearless artist Elisabeth Jerichau-Baumann. A long-forgotten article in Göteborgs-Posten, a Swedish newspaper, from October 30, 1880, left us speechless before the adventures of this fascinating Polish-Danish artist.

Elisabeth Jerichau-Baumann (1819–1881)

Elisabeth Jerichau-Baumann was a Danish-Polish artist who painted with a burning creative fervor and lived driven by an appetite for adventure that could not be contained by the narrow female ideals of her time.

With immense energy, she took 19th-century Europe by storm. After giving birth to nine children between 1847 and 1861, she embarked on her great international travels. Today, we will follow her intense journeys through the starkly contrasting landscapes of the Orient and Southern Europe. She spent a great deal of time in Greece during the 19th century.

Reader’s tip: At the end of this article, we take a look at the 19th-century advertising market – hilariously entertaining! 👇

The path to European artistic life

As a young artist, Elisabeth Jerichau-Baumann tried to adapt to a Danish cultural climate characterized by strong national romantic currents. She became known as one of the most typical representatives of the style in Danish art. Since the art academies of the time did not allow female students, she was mostly self-taught through extensive independent studies.

Later, she moved to Rome, where she quickly became part of the German artist colony. It was also there that she met the Danish sculptor Jens Adolf Jerichau, whom she married. Her husband’s own erotically charged statues gave her the courage to ignore the local narrow-mindedness and pursue her own sensual style of painting, despite the great social risks for a woman in the 19th century.

Although she kept Rome as her fixed base, she was constantly on the move. Her own books, Ungdomserindringer (1874) and Brogede Rejsebilleder (1881), provide vivid, albeit strongly romanticized, depictions of the colorful and international artistic life of that time.

From the world of fairy tales to royal courts

In these circles, H.C. Andersen also moved, who had traveled in Greece in the 19th century as well.

Elisabeth immortalized the storyteller in a painting where he reads to her own children. But her connection to Andersen and his works did not stop there. She also created a series of acclaimed paintings with mermaid motifs and gifted one of these works to him.

Her ability to capture life and character quickly made her sought after among the absolute elite of Europe. Before Elisabeth turned her gaze eastward, she had already won great recognition and secured prestigious commissions from royals across the entire continent.

Travel in Greece in the 19th century

She soon felt cramped by Danish cultural life. Her temperament and great ambitions required more space than the North could offer. She packed her brushes and headed east, towards environments completely different from the usual European artistic hubs. Ahead of her waited a colorful and perilous existence that stretched from the royal court in Athens and encounters with outlaws in the mountains of Attica to the closed doors of the sultan’s harem in Constantinople.

The Royal Court in Athens

In Athens, she quickly charmed the Greek royal couple, George I and Queen Olga. That the young king was a Danish prince by birth became Elisabeth’s perfect ticket to the palace.
Soon she was sitting in the royal salons, portraying the court in a city that was transforming into a new, modern metropolis. With her unfailing charm and courage, Elisabeth stepped straight into the corridors of power without hesitation. She not only managed to win the royal family’s trust, but also became a frequent chronicler of the rest of Athenian society, where the ancient heritage met the new, colorful elite of the 19th century.

The outlaws in the mountains of Attica

Traveling in Greece in the 19th century was not risk-free, and the mountains of Attica hid dangers that required a completely different kind of courage than the quiet salons of Athens. Her choice to paint out in the open was at this time very unusual in Greece, especially for a woman, because the countryside was constantly threatened by lawless bands of outlaws. These bands of outlaws were a genuine social plague that paralyzed the countryside, but they were also deeply intertwined with the local politics of the time.

For the still young nation, the bandits were merely criminals who threatened the security of the state. But among the people, they were often seen as heirs to the old freedom fighters of the revolution, the klephts and armatoles, who protected the local population against the exercise of state power. Elisabeth Jerichau-Baumann refused to let herself be stopped by the dangers in this charged environment.

She bravely ventured into the mountains to immortalize “native Greek bandits and outlaws.” Although these specific paintings have been lost to the shadows of history, newspaper articles from the 1880s testify to a courage that lacked precedent in the European salons of the time.

In Göteborgs-Posten, her dramatic and contrast-filled time in 19th-century Greece is described as follows:

📜 She spent some time at the court of the King of Greece, occupied mostly with painting portraits, portraits of kings, queens, and princes, but also of native Greek bandits and outlaws.

The secrets of the Ottoman harems

Elisabeth did not stay long with the Greek royal couple. She sought to travel further east to Constantinople, where she achieved the rare feat of gaining access, as a Western woman, to the city’s otherwise completely closed Ottoman harems.

The journey then continued even further south, to Egypt, where, on the outskirts of Cairo, she found new motifs that continued to challenge the European audience’s view of the women of the Orient.

Her paintings from there differed radically from the exotic fantasies of contemporary male artists. Because she had actually spent time close to the women, she did not portray them as anonymous objects, but with a rare psychological depth, dignity, and a vibrant light that captivated the art world.

The echoes of the era in the printing presses

Her life and career continued to fascinate long after she had left the Mediterranean, which is clearly visible in the contemporary press. During the 1880s, her achievements were written about with great admiration in Swedish media. When Elisabeth Jerichau-Baumann exhibited her works in Gothenburg in the autumn of 1880, it attracted great attention.

In Göteborgs-Posten, the exhibition was described as an event where the art was studied with “lively interest and great pleasure.” The writer reflected on her artistic development and the unique experiences she had gathered during her travels:

📜 Afterwards, she stayed in Constantinople and gained access to Mustapha Fazil Pasha’s harem, where she portrayed his beautiful daughter on behalf of the Princess of Wales. In the collection she has now exhibited, there are also portraits of several beautiful harem ladies, but with fictitious names—a delicacy toward the amiable ‘hanums’ (princesses), which was probably less dictated by their own desire than by the moral laws of Muhammad…

Through these words from 1880, the image of an artist emerges who not only mastered her choice of color and lighting but also navigated a complex world with an unusual sensitivity for cultural conventions.

A life in the service of art

Elisabeth Jerichau-Baumann was a force of nature who proved that a woman with a paintbrush could be just as quick-witted, powerful, and unstoppable as her most celebrated male colleagues. At her passing, her life’s work and her rebellious spirit were celebrated. She is still considered by many to be a true pioneer.

Her contemporaries remembered her not only for her canvases, but for the vitality she radiated until the very end. In one of the obituaries, it was described how she, at a large banquet in Gothenburg’s finest reception hall, had captivated her audience:

📜 She captivated everyone with the fiery and captivating immediacy with which she took the floor in a gathering of five hundred people… it would have taken more to break her immense energy, which was based on the most sincere conviction that a true artistic talent resided within her.

It is a moving description of a woman who, until her very last breath, lived with “her usual liveliness,” her warm devotion to art, and her flashing brilliance.

The analog noise of the 1880s

Before we put a period to this first issue of Hellas Herald, we linger for a moment over the newspapers of that time, consisting of long vertical columns. The contrasts in the media climate of the 19th century are striking; when we study old newspapers, such as Sydsvenska Dagbladet Snällposten, we see how news reporting, cultural advertisements, and commercials for daily necessities jostled for space on the same surface.

It is a reminder that the newspaper reader of the past was met by an entirely different kind of “analog noise” than today’s digital feeds. Right next to notices about art auctions and cultural events were advertisements for everything from military associations to the home remedy “Parasiticida.”

Reading a page from that time is like stepping into a world where the sublime – such as the art of Elisabeth Jerichau-Baumann – constantly had to share the stage with the more grounded, and for us sometimes purely absurd, concerns of everyday life.

Related article

The Greek islands between the 16th and 20th centuries, part 1

A large part of these testimonies could have been lost if it weren’t for institutions like the Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation. The foundation is a center for research and education, dedicated to promoting Greek culture both nationally and internationally. Its work covers a wide range of fields, from literature and history to maritime research and the preservation of historical documents.

Part of their digital initiative is Travelogues, a project led by historian Ioli Vingopoulou. The platform collects material from travel accounts about the Greek islands and the entire Eastern Mediterranean from the 15th century onward. Its purpose is to provide researchers and the general public with access to these unique testimonies while highlighting Greek culture and history in an international context.

For those interested in exploring further, Travelogues is also available in English: http://eng.travelogues.gr/

Travelers in the Greek Islands (1500–1900)

The travelers who journeyed through the Aegean Sea from the 16th century to the early 20th century did so for many different reasons. Some were pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land, others were diplomats on missions to the Ottoman capital. Merchants sought new markets, scholars and lovers of antiquity mapped the region’s history, and from the mid-19th century onward, journeys made purely for leisure became increasingly common.

The Greek islands lay along these sea routes but did not form a unified world. Some were under Venetian or Genoese control, while others were subject to the Ottoman Empire. Regardless of the ruling power, travelers often encountered a reality that differed from their expectations. They sought the lost antiquity but also discovered a vibrant archipelago where people struggled, worked, and adapted to the conditions set by nature and history. Some islands were nearly deserted, while others thrived through trade and seafaring. Through their testimonies, we gain insight into both sides of the Greek islands in the Aegean Sea.

This article is a first glimpse into the stories and images preserved from the travelers’ time in the Greek islands. Here, we highlight selected moments and accounts that offer a sense of the world they encountered – an exploration we will delve deeper into in the upcoming parts. All material in this article is published with permission from the Laskarides Foundation.

Syros

During the 19th century, Syros underwent an incredibly dramatic transformation. From being relatively unknown among the Greek islands, it became one of the Mediterranean’s most important commercial centers. Here, East, and West converged in a bustling hub of trade and culture.

J. Emerson Tennent was an Irish politician and lawyer. His travel accounts are a blend of travel narrative and political reflections, often based on second-hand information. His work includes one of the earliest views of Syros, from a time when the island was establishing itself as an important port in the Aegean Sea.

Among the journeys he describes is the voyage aboard the steamship Francesco I, the first cruise in the Eastern Mediterranean, organized by the architect Marchebeus in 1833 and later recounted in his travel chronicle from 1839.

The work of photographer F. F. Boissonnas, from the early 20th century, was groundbreaking in the history of photography. His images of Syros and other locations unite landscapes and people in perfect harmony.

During the second half of the 19th century, Syros gained increased attention in the European press. British newspapers such as The Illustrated London News and The Graphic published detailed wood engravings depicting the island’s landscape, population, and social life. These images, based on travelers’ sketches and notes, provided a wider audience with a visual insight into both everyday life on Syros and major events in the Greek world, ranging from political upheavals to natural disasters.

Patmos

In 1801, mineralogist Edward Daniel Clarke and his travel companions visited the monastery on Patmos, where they were granted permission to enter its library. What they encountered was a chaotic collection of books and manuscripts, where dust, moths, and mold had begun to take over.

Note: The text is a summary of an extensive article in Lifo magazine about the Laskarides Foundation’s online sessions on the Greek islands before modernization.

On the shelves stood printed books, which the monks valued most, while the hand-written manuscripts lay in disordered piles on the floor. Among them, traveler Clarke made some astonishing discoveries: a forgotten Platonic dialogue, a lexicon by Cyril of Alexandria, and volumes of ancient Greek hymns, complete with early musical notation. The monks agreed to sell some of the manuscripts—but only under the condition that the transaction be kept secret from the island’s inhabitants.

But the deal did not go as planned. As the travelers’ ship was ready to set sail and the manuscripts had yet to be delivered, they believed they had been deceived. Then, a man appeared on the shore with a large basket and gave a discreet signal. A boat was sent out to him, and he called out that he was delivering bread.

Edward Daniel Clarke himself describes in detail how the exchange took place:

“The man came aboard, cast a meaningful glance at us, and said loudly, ‘The Hegumen (Prior) has ordered me to take the basket back empty, and he asks that you count the loaves to ensure they are correct.’ We understood at once. We hurried aside, overturned the basket, and to our delight found Plato’s dialogue, Cyril’s lexicon, and other manuscripts. We quickly hid them, handed back the basket along with a small bakshish (tip), and everything went exactly as we had hoped.”

However, the smuggling affair did not remain a secret. The incident caused a scandal, and as early as the following year, 1802, an inscription in hexameter verse was carved at the library’s entrance. It reads:

“Within lie brilliant manuscripts.
To the wise man, they are more precious than gold.
Therefore, preserve them with the greatest care,
More than your own life.
For thanks to these writings, the monastery has become radiant.”

A Danish woman on Sikinos, 1850

In the 19th century, Greece was ruled by King Otto and Queen Amalia. The queen had a Danish personal pastor whose wife was Christiane Lüth. During her thirteen-year stay in the country, she frequently traveled around the Greek islands in the Aegean Sea. In her writings, she refrains from using academic terms, describing the people and islands in a simple, clear manner with a friendly and objective tone.

We arrived at the island of Sikinos around noon and found a simple harbor with two old boats. After some persuasion, we managed to get donkeys and began ascending a steep hill toward the village under the hot sun. We paused for a while at a well, where the view was vast and clear.

In the village, we were greeted by the Health Officer on a terrace, and we were soon surrounded by villagers who offered us coffee. The mayor arrived and invited us to his house, where his wife spoke to us kindly.

We also visited the church of Episkopi, built on an ancient temple dedicated to Apollo. Columns and marble from the old pagan temple are still prominently visible in and around the church building. On the way there, the priest offered us bread, olives, and raw beans. On the way back from the church, we visited a young weaver and had the chance to see her craftsmanship.

When we returned to the village, we were once again met by the mayor and the villagers. They wanted to hear about our excursion and what we thought of their island.

Note: The text above is a summary of an extensive article in Lifo magazine about the Laskarides Foundation’s online sessions on the Greek islands before modernization.

Paros

Choiseul-Gouffier, a French nobleman and travel writer, visited Paros during his first journey to Greece in 1776. In Voyage pittoresque de la Grèce, he described how the island’s marble, renowned for its purity and transparency, had once shaped some of Greece’s greatest works of art.

However, he was not only fascinated by the island’s marble quarries but also by its local life, documenting both landscapes and people. His accounts spread across Europe, helping to enhance the island’s mythical status as a place where the ancient heritage still lived.

Santorini

The volcanic island of Santorini, otherworldly and captivating, followed the same historical fate as the rest of the Cyclades, transitioning from Venetian to Ottoman rule. After centuries of foreign dominion, the island became part of the modern Greek state in the 19th century. It was during this period of change that Christopher Wordsworth published his richly illustrated work, Greece, Pictorial, Descriptive. More a historical account than a travel narrative, it gained significant popularity with the public.

Christopher Wordsworth was a distinguished classical scholar and Bishop of Lincoln. He traveled through Greece in 1832–1833 and was the first British citizen to be received by King Otto.

Wordsworth documented his travels through meticulous archaeological observations, with vivid depictions of the places he visited at the forefront. By connecting modern locations with their ancient counterparts, Wordsworth provides us with a captivating portrayal of Greece’s history. His work combines intellectual rigor with personal enthusiasm, making it a fascinating read for those wishing to explore Greece’s rich past through the eyes of a knowledgeable traveler.

The beginning of a longer journey

Here we conclude the first stage of our expedition through Greece, seen through the eyes of foreign travelers. Their diaries, sketches, and letters have revived an Aegean landscape long reshaped by the passage of time—but the glimpses we have shared are merely the beginning of a much more extensive account.

We will delve deeper into these travelers’ experiences and observations in future articles. We will follow their paths through communities, villages, ancient ruins, and coastal landscapes that have since undergone significant changes. The travelers’ documentation serves as an important historical resource, shedding light on cultural traditions, architecture, and everyday life from a time when travel was reserved for a privileged few.

By comparing their accounts with today’s reality, we also gain perspective on the development of tourism in the region—both its contribution to economic growth and its profound impact on local communities. Their notes and images thus become a valuable reference point for understanding the transformation of the islands over the past centuries.

Sources:

Texts, images, photographs, and maps are published with permission from the Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation. The material is based on the Foundation’s extensive archives, where the travelers’ testimonies are documented: https://www.laskaridisfoundation.org/en/

Argyro Bozonis’s article in Lifo magazine has also been an important reference in this compilation.

Further Reading:

The website TravelTrails is a collaboration between the Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation and the Gennadius Library. The site serves as a comprehensive database of travel accounts from the Eastern Mediterranean between the 16th and 20th centuries. It is available in Greek, Turkish, and English: https://traveltrails.gr.

Related Articles

By comparing these historical accounts with modern travel narratives, we gain a unique perspective on how the islands and the experience of traveling have changed over the centuries. For those curious about what it was like to explore the Greek islands in more recent times, the article series Uffe’s Greek Wanderings is recommended. It depicts island life during the 1970s and 1980s—a period when mass tourism had just begun, yet the islands still retained much of their traditional character.

• Ulf’s carefree Greek roamings, part 1
• Ulf’s carefree Greek roamings, part 2
• Ulf’s carefree Greek roamings, part 3