Part 5

The Turks took Constantinople in 1453, and the contests between them and the Venetians continued with even greater bitterness; and after the capture of Cyprus by the Moslems, and the fitting out by the Sultan Selim of an immense and powerful fleet, it became evident to the western world that some supreme effort should be put forth to curb the advance of the Turkish power.

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Let us now glance at the state of affairs about the time of Lepanto.

The latter part of the 16th century was a stirring and eventful period in the world’s history.

Charles V had resigned his empire to that sullen bigot, his son, Philip II.

About the same time Moscow was being burned by the Tartars; the Russians having been the abject subjects of the Tartars but a few years before.

Prussia, so powerful to-day, was then a small hereditary duchy, Lutheran in religion, and still a fief of Poland. The Poles were then a much more powerful nation than the Russians.

The States of the north, Sweden and Denmark, were very strong, and made their influence felt in all Europe. Tycho Brahe, the subject of the latter, was then a young man.

Portugal, from her brilliant maritime discoveries, had extended relations with Japan, China, India and Brazil; and had rendered Lisbon the market of the world, usurping the place of Antwerp. Her decline was, however, soon to follow.

Soon after Lepanto, Holland, driven to despairing effort by the tyranny of Philip, revolted, and William of Orange became Stadtholder. He was succeeded by Maurice, whose efforts to secure independence were so ably seconded by Elizabeth of England, as to draw down upon the latter nation the vengeance of Philip, shown later in the despatch of his grand Armada, but a very few years after the event of Lepanto.

The Church of England had been established, and Elizabeth was enjoying her splendid reign. Sir Walter Raleigh, Drake, and other heroes of the sea were then young men.

Florence was about to enjoy her highest distinction as the home of learning and art, under Cosmo de Medici, and Pius V was Pope; one of the greatest that ever occupied the Papal throne.

Rodolph, of Hapsburg, had had his fierce struggle with the Turks, by land; but Austria then had no naval force.

In France the weak and bloody Charles IX was upon the throne, and the massacre of Saint Bartholomew was close at hand.

And now, to come to the great event of Lepanto, which decided the question of supremacy between Christianity and Islamism.

The Turks had captured Cyprus; possessed almost irresistible power, and everything looked very dark for Christendom.

But in spite of the connivance of Charles IX in their advance, who by this base conduct preluded the great crime of his reign; in spite of the calculated inaction of England; the timidity of Austria; the exhaustion of Poland, after a long war with still barbarous Muscovy, the genius of Christianity took a fresh flight, and the star of the west once more rose in the ascendant.

The honor of being the head of the effort at resistance to the encroaching Turkish power, and of victorious reprisals, belongs especially to Pope Pius V, a simple monk who had been exalted to the Pontifical throne; a zealous and austere priest, of a disposition naturally violent, which had been subdued by experience, foresight, and real greatness of soul.

This Pontiff, upon the first menace of the Turks against Cyprus, bestirred himself to form a league of several Christian States.

A crusade was no longer possible, from the condition of Europe, which was divided by religious schism, and by the ambition of princes. But, if the Pope could no longer send the whole of Europe to a holy war, such as was condemned by Luther as unjust and inhuman, he could at least, as a temporal prince, take his part in active operations.

Not even the coolness and calculated slowness of Philip of Spain--the Monarch from whom he had a right to expect the most assistance--could arrest the zeal of the ardent and generous Pontiff, who saw that the time had come for Christendom to conquer or submit.

Philip II, who was without mercy for the Mahomedans still scattered throughout his dominions, nevertheless hesitated to enter upon a struggle with the Turks; and above all did he dislike to defend Venice against them--so much did he envy the latter her rich commerce.

The first power asked to join the league against Selim, he only finally consented upon being given by the Pope the revenues of the church throughout his vast realm, for as long as the war should last. But even this gilded bait became the source of delay, the avaricious and cunning monarch deferring preparations, and multiplying obstacles to the undertaking, so as to profit as long as possible from the rich revenue derived from that source.

Thus it happened that, by his delay, in spite of the coalition, and of the allied fleet, equal in number and superior in condition and discipline to that of the Turks, the Island of Cyprus was captured, after stubborn sieges of its two capitals, Nicosia and Famagousta, without any assistance from the rest of Christendom.

Famagousta was captured after a very prolonged and obstinate defence, which had been conducted at the expense of fifty thousand lives to the Turks, who had made six general assaults. Finally the city was allowed to capitulate on honorable terms. Mustapha, the same fierce Moslem general who had conducted the siege of Malta, requested four of the principal Venetian leaders to meet him at his quarters. Here a short and angry conference ensued, when, in violation of the terms of the capitulation, Mustapha ordered three of them to instant execution. But he reserved Bragadino, who had held the supreme command during the siege, and ordered him to have his ears cut off, and to be set to work to carry earth to repair the works. After a few days of this humiliation Mustapha caused him to be flayed alive, in the public market place. This horrible sentence was not only carried into effect, but his skin was stuffed and suspended from the yard arm of Mustapha’s galley; and, with this shocking trophy thus displayed, he returned to Constantinople. Here he was rewarded by Selim for the capture of Cyprus. These terrible events added fuel to the flame of revenge which the Venetians felt, and were, of course, additional incentives to their allies.

The capture of Cyprus, and the disgraceful events following it, aroused the indignation of all Europe. The iron yoke of the Turk, with his following hosts of Asiatic robbers and cut-throats, owing to the delay in relief, extended over the whole of the large, rich and populous island.

Pius V, in terrible grief at these events, and full of foreboding for the future, made himself heard throughout Europe; and with renewed ardor he insisted upon carrying out the treaty of alliance already made, the assembly of the allied fleet, and upon vengeance upon the Ottomans, since succor for Cyprus would arrive too late.

The greatest mark of his terrible earnestness was the assembling of a Pontifical fleet and army--a thing unheard of at that time. The Pope gave the command to a member of the very ancient Roman family of Colonna.

In the latter part of 1571, five months after the capture of Cyprus, the Christian armament appeared upon the Mediterranean, consisting of galleys to the number of two hundred, with galleasses, transports and other vessels, carrying fifty thousand soldiers. Then immediately followed the most important event of the sixteenth century.

The Christian fleet made rendezvous at Messina; whence Sebastian Veniero, the Venetian admiral, would have sailed at once, and have sought the enemy without delay, so much did he fear for the Venetian possessions in the Adriatic, from the rapid advance of the Ottomans.

But Don John, the supreme commander, with a prudence worthy of an older and less fiery man, would not move until he was strengthened by every possible reinforcement, as he wished to use every means in his power to avoid a defeat which must be a final and crushing one to the side which should lose. He was certain that the great resources of the Ottoman empire would, on this supreme occasion, be strained to the utmost to equip their greatest armament. During this delay the Pope proclaimed a jubilee--granting indulgences to all engaged in the expedition--such as had formerly been given to the deliverers of the Holy Sepulchre.

On September 16th, the magnificent armament, unrivaled since the days of imperial Rome, put to sea from Messina. They were baffled by rough seas and head winds on the Calabrian coast, and made slow progress. The commander had sent a small squadron in advance, for intelligence. They returned with the news that the Turks were still in the Adriatic, with a powerful fleet, and had committed fearful ravages upon the Venetian territories. The fleet then steered for Corfu, and reached there on September 26th, seeing for themselves traces of the enemy in smoking towns and farms, and deserted fields and vineyards. The islanders welcomed them, and furnished what they could of needed supplies.

Don John seems to have had his own plans: but he now called a council, because courtesy required that he should consult the commanders of the Allies--and because he had promised Philip to do so--the latter fearing his fiery and impetuous disposition.

The opinions were divided--as is always the case in councils of war. Those who had had personal experience of Turkish naval prowess appeared to shrink from encountering so formidable an armament, and would have confined the operations of the Christian fleet to besieging some city belonging to the Moslems. Even Doria, the old sea-dog, whose life had been spent in fighting the infidel, thought it was not advisable to attack the enemy in his present position, surrounded as he was by friendly shores, whence he could obtain aid and reinforcement. He wished to attack Navarino, and thus draw the enemy from the gulf where he was anchored, and force him to give battle in the open sea. But, strange to say (for a proverb has it that councils of war never fight), the majority took a different view, and said that the object of the expedition was to destroy the Ottoman fleet, and that a better opportunity could not present itself than when they were shut in a gulf, from which, if defeated, they could not escape.

The most influential of the council held these views: among them the Marquis of Santa Cruz, Cardona, the commander of the Sicilian squadron, Barberigo, second in command of the Venetians, Grand Commander Requesens, Colonna, and young Alexander Farnese, Prince of Parma--the nephew of Don John, who was seeing his first service now, but who was to become, in time, the greatest captain of his age.

Thus supported in his judgment, the young commander-in-chief resolved to give the Turks battle in the position they had chosen. But he was delayed by weather, and other causes, and the enemy were not actually met until October 7th.

The Ottoman fleet, two hundred strong, rowed by Christian slaves, and accompanied by numbers of transports, was moored in a gulf upon the Albanian coast, while the Christian fleet, seeking its enemy, came down from the north, led by the galleys of the Venetian contingent.

As the time of conflict approached, the commander-in-chief, Don John, rose superior to the timid counsels of the generals of Philip II, who accompanied him, and who were, in a manner, charged with his safety.

Don John, of Austria, was the natural son of Charles V, but was fully recognized, not only by his father, but by Philip, his legitimate brother, who originally intended him for high ecclesiastical dignities. But Don John early showed great predilection for the profession of arms, and was conspicuous during the revolt of the Moors of Grenada. In 1570, when only twenty-six years old, he received the supreme command of the Spanish fleet; and his ability and success justified an appointment which was due to favoritism.

After Lepanto he conquered Tunis, and the idea was entertained of founding a Christian kingdom there, for him; but the jealousy of his arbitrary and suspicious brother prevented this. He then received the governorship of the Low Countries, succeeding the notorious and bloody Duke of Alva, and he there died, in his camp at Namur, in 1578, aged thirty-three. It is said that he was about to undertake an expedition to deliver Mary Stuart, at the time of his death, which was attributed by some to poison.

Don John was one of the remarkable soldiers of his time. Generous, frank, humane, he was beloved by both soldiers and citizens. He was a fine horseman, handsome, well made, and graceful.

Don John’s principal force, in ships and fighting men, was Italian; for, besides the twelve galleys of the Pope, and those of Genoa, Savoy, and other Italian States and cities, many were contributed by rich and generous Italian private citizens. The greater number, however, were Venetian; this State contributing one hundred and six “royal galleys” and six galleasses. The galleasses were large ships, rather dull as sailers, but carrying forty or fifty pieces of cannon.

Among the complement of the Venetians were many Greeks--either refugees from the Morea, or recruited in Candia, Corfu, and other islands, then subject to the Venetian power. In keeping with the jealous policy of Venice, none of these subjects had any maritime command or military rank; but they fought valiantly under the flag of St. Marc, which lost in the battle its chief admiral and fifteen captains.

The Spaniards had about eighty galleys; but had also a number of brigantines, and vessels of small size--and were better manned than the Venetians--so that Don John drafted several thousand men from the other Italian ships, and from those of Spain, to make good the Venetian complement. Veniero, the Venetian Admiral, took great offence at this, and much trouble arose from it, but the imminence of the conflict and the importance of the result to Venice prevented him from withdrawing his force, as he at first threatened to do.

The total number of men on board the allied fleet was eighty thousand. The galleys, impelled principally by oars, required a large number of rowers. Of the 29,000 soldiers embarked, 19,000 were sent by Spain. They were good troops, officered by men of reputation, and most of them illustrious, not only for family, but for military achievement. It was so also with the Venetian officers, as it should have been--for her very existence was at stake, unless the Turks were defeated.

Don John himself arranged the order of battle; and, standing erect in a fast pulling boat, clad in his armor, and bearing in his hand a crucifix, he pulled round the fleet, exhorting the Allies, by voice and gesture, to make a common cause, and without reference to the flags they bore, to act as one nationality in the face of the common foe.

He then returned to his own galley, where a staff of young Castilian and Sardinian nobles awaited him, and unfurled the great banner of the League, presented by the Pope, and bearing the arms of Spain, Venice and the Pope, bound together by an endless chain.

The _Real_, or Admiral’s galley of Don John, was of great size, and had been built in Barcelona, at that time famous for naval architecture. Her stern was highly decorated with emblems and historical devices, while her interior was furnished most luxuriously. But, most of all, she excelled in strength and speed, and right well did she do her part when exposed to the actual test of battle.

Lepanto was fought on Sunday. The weather was beautiful, and the sun shone in splendor upon the peculiarly clear blue water of those seas.

The sight on that morning must have been surpassingly grand. The beautiful galleys, with their numerous oars dashing the water into foam; gaudy pennons streaming from the picturesque lateen yards; gaily painted hulls, decorated with shields and armorial insignia; culverins mounted at the prows, with matches smoking; the decks filled with men in polished armor and gay plumes, and armed with sword and spear, matchlock and arquebus, cross-bow and petronel. Shouts of command and of enthusiasm went up amid a brandishing of weapons, while an occasional hush occurred when the holy fathers of the church gave absolution to those who were about to meet the fierce infidel.

More than half the ships carried at their mast-heads the Lion of St. Marc, which waved over the sturdy sea-dogs of Venice, while other divisions showed the red and yellow of Spain, the white, with crossed keys and triple mitre of the Pope, or the varied ensigns of the Italian cities.

On the other side were the Turks, with their numerous and powerful galleys, mostly pulled by Christian slaves, who were driven by cruel blows to put forth their utmost strength against their co-religionists; for in every galley, Turkish or Christian, where slaves worked the oars, there extended between the benches of the rowers, fore and aft, a raised walk, on which two or three boatswains, with long rods, walked back and forth, dealing heavy blows upon those who were not thought to be doing their utmost at the oars. The slaves were shackled to the benches when they rowed; and never left them, day or night. Their food and clothing were scanty, and the filth about them was seldom cleared away, except by the rain from heaven, or the seas, which sometimes washed on board. The fighting men of the galleys were mostly on the fore-deck, and on outside galleries, or platforms above the gunwales.

The Turks had the wild music which they love to encourage their fighting men, kettle-drums and pipes, cymbals and trumpets. The horse-tails of the Pashas streamed from the poops of their galleys, as with loud cries they appealed to Allah to deliver the Christian dogs once more into their hands. And there was every reason to suppose that their wish would be fulfilled, for they had the stronger force, and carried with them the prestige of former victories won over the best efforts of the Christians.

THE BATTLE.

On the morning of the memorable 7th of October the Christian fleet weighed anchor for Lepanto, at two hours before dawn. The wind was light, but adverse, and oars had to be used. At sunrise they came up with a group of rocky islets which form the northern cape of the Gulf of Lepanto. The rowers labored hard at the oars, while all others strained their eyes for the first glimpse of the great Moslem fleet. At length they were descried from the masthead of the _Real_, and almost at the same moment by Andrew Doria, who commanded on the right.

Don John ordered his pennon to be displayed, unfurled the banner of the Christian League, and fired a gun, the preconcerted signal for battle.

This was answered by an exultant shout from all the ships.

The principal captains now came on board the _Real_, to receive their final orders; and a few, even then, doubted the propriety of fighting, but Don John sternly said, “Gentlemen, this is the time for battle, and not for counsel!” and the armada was at once deployed in fighting array, according to orders previously issued.

When ready for battle the Christian force had a front of three miles. On the extreme right was Doria, whose name was justly held in terror by the Moslem, with sixty-four galleys. In the centre, consisting of sixty-three galleys, was Don John, supported on one side by Colonna, and on the other by Veniero. In his rear was the Grand Commander Requesens, his former tutor in military matters. The left wing was commanded by Barberigo, a Venetian noble, who was to keep his vessels as near the Ætolian coast as the rocks and shoals would permit, to prevent his wing being turned by the enemy.

The reserve, of thirty-five galleys, was commanded by the Marquis of Santa Cruz, a man of known courage and conduct, who had orders to act in any quarter where he thought his aid most needed.

The smaller craft took little part in the battle, the action being fought almost entirely by the galleys.

Each commander was to take space enough for manœuvring, yet to keep so close as to prevent the enemy from piercing the line. Each was to single out his adversary, close with him, and board as soon as possible.

Don John had the beak of his galley cut away; so little did he rely upon an instrument once, and for so long, considered formidable.

By this time galleys mounted guns upon their prows, and beaks were beginning to fall out of use. It is said that many commanders of the allies followed Don John’s example.

The Ottoman fleet weighed and came out to the battle. But they came on slowly, as the wind had suddenly shifted and was now against them, while, as the day advanced, the sun, which had been in the faces of the Allies, shone in those of the Moslem; and both these natural phenomena were hailed by the Christians as an evidence of divine interposition.

The Turkish armament proved to be even greater in number than had been anticipated by the Christians, consisting of nearly two hundred and fifty “royal galleys,” most of them of the largest class; and a number of smaller vessels in the rear, which, however, like the similar ones of the Allies, do not appear to have come much into action.

The number of the Turks, including rowers, is said to have been 120,000. As we have said, the rowers were principally Christian slaves, with some blacks and criminals.

As was usual with the Turks, their order of battle was crescentic, and, being more numerous than the Allies, they occupied a wider space than the straight alignment of the Christians.

As their formidable and magnificent array advanced, the moving sun shone upon gaudy paint and gilded prows, thousands of pennons, polished cimeters and head pieces, and the jeweled turbans of the Pachas, and other chief men.

In the centre of their long line, and opposite to Don John, was a huge galley, bearing the Turkish commander, Ali Pasha.

His fleet was commanded on the right by the Viceroy of Egypt, a wary but courageous leader. His left was led by Uluch Ali, a Calabrian renegade and Dey of Algiers, noted as a successful corsair, who had made more Christian slaves than all the rest beside.

Ali was, like Don John, young and ambitious, and had refused to listen to any counsels looking toward declining battle on that day. Selim had sent him to fight, and he was determined to do so; although the prudent Viceroy of Egypt expressed some doubts of success.

Ali found the Christian fleet more numerous than he had supposed, and at first he did not perceive their left wing, which was hidden by the Ætolian shore.

When he saw the Christian line in its full extent, it is said that he faltered for a moment, but only for a moment, for he at once urged on the rowers to close with the enemy, and spoke of the prospects of the engagement, to those about him, in confident terms.

It is said that Ali was of humane disposition, and that he promised the Christian slaves that, if by their exertions he won the day, they should all have their freedom.

As he drew near the Allies, Ali changed his order of battle, separating his wings from the centre, to correspond to the Christian formation. He also fired a challenge gun, before he came within shot. This was answered by Don John, and a second one was promptly replied to from the Christian flag-ship.

The fleets now rapidly neared each other. Men held their breath, and nerved themselves for the death grapple, and a perfect silence reigned, broken only by the plash of the huge oars, while the light breeze rippled the smiling blue waters.

Just about noon this beautiful scene, a perfect pageant, was broken in upon by the fierce yells of the Turks, the war cry with which they were accustomed to join battle.