Part 6

At this moment, as if by contrast, every fighting man of the Christians fell upon his knee, as did Don John himself, and prayed the Almighty to be with his own that day. Absolution was then given by the priests, which were in each ship, and the men stood up, braced for the contest.

When the foremost Turkish vessels had come within cannon shot, they opened fire; and this ran along their line as they advanced, without cessation. The Christian kettle-drums and trumpets sounded in reply, with a general discharge of all the guns which would bear.

Don John had caused the galleasses, the large, high, unwieldy war ships, to be towed about half a mile ahead of his fleet, where they could intercept the advance of the Turks.

As the latter came abreast of them, the galleasses delivered their broadsides, with terrible effect. Ali caused his galleys to diverge, and pass these vessels, which were so high and formidable that the Turks did not attempt to board them.

Their heavy guns caused some damage and confusion in the Pacha’s line of battle, but this appears to have been the only part they took in the engagement, as they were too unwieldy to be brought up again.

The real action began on the Allies’ left wing, which the Viceroy of Egypt was very desirous of turning. But the Venetian admiral, to prevent that very thing, had closed well in with the coast. The Viceroy, however, better acquainted with the soundings, saw that there was room for him to pass, and dashed by, thereby doubling up his enemy. Thus placed between two fires, the Christian left fought at very great disadvantage. Many galleys were soon sunk, and several more were captured by the Turks.

Barberigo, dashing into the heat of the fight, was wounded in the eye, by an arrow, and was borne below. But his Venetians continued the fight with unabated courage and fury, fighting for revenge, as well as for glory.

On the extreme Christian right a similar movement was attempted by Uluch Ali. With superior numbers he attempted to turn that wing; but here he met that experienced and valiant seaman, Andrew Doria, who foresaw the movement of Uluch, and promptly defeated it. The two best seamen of the Mediterranean were here brought face to face. Doria, to prevent being surrounded, extended his line so far to the right that Don John was obliged to caution him not to expose the centre. Indeed, he seriously weakened his own line, and the experienced Uluch instantly detecting it, dashed down, sank several galleys, and captured the great “Capitana,” of Malta. While the battle thus opened badly for the Allies, on both wings, Don John led his division forward; at first with indifferent success. His own chief object was to encounter Ali Pasha, and the Turkish commander was also intent upon meeting him.

Their respective galleys were easily distinguished, from their size and rich decoration, besides displaying, the one the great Ottoman standard, the other the holy banner of the League.

The Ottoman standard was held to be very sacred. It was emblazoned in gold, with texts from the Koran, and had the name of Allah repeated 28,900 times. The Sultans had passed it from father to son, ever since the formation of the dynasty, and it was never seen unless the Grand Signior or his lieutenant was in the field.

Both commanders urged forward their galleys, which soon shot ahead of the lines, and the two closed with a fearful shock, so powerful that the Pacha’s, which was the largest, was thrown upon that of his antagonist so far that the prow reached the fourth bench of Don John’s rowers.

As soon as those on board the two vessels recovered from the shock, the carnage commenced.

Don John had three hundred Spanish arquebusiers, the flower of the infantry. Ali had three hundred picked janizaries, and was followed by a small vessel with two hundred more. He had also one hundred archers on board; the bow being still much in use among the Turks.

The Pasha opened a terrible fire, which was returned with even greater spirit by the Spaniards. The latter had bulwarks, which the Mussulmen had not; and so the crowded janizaries presented an easy mark. Still, they filled up the gaps from the reserve in the small vessel, and the Spaniards wasted away under their fire. For a long time it was doubtful to which side victory would incline.

This conflict was now complicated by the entrance of others. The bravest on each side came to the aid of the two commanders, and each leader at times found himself assailed by several enemies. They never lost sight of each other, however, and after beating off lesser assailants, returned to the single combat.

The fight was now general, and the movements of both fleets obscured by clouds of smoke. Separate detachments desperately engaged each other, without regard to what was going on in other quarters; and there were few of the combinations and manœuvers of a great naval battle.

The galleys grappled each other, and soldiers, sailors and galley slaves fought, hand to hand, boarding and repelling boarders, in turn.

There was enormous loss of life; the decks being encumbered with the dead, and in some ships every man on board was either killed or wounded. The blood flowed in torrents out of the scuppers, and the waters of the gulf were stained for miles. Wrecks of vessels encumbered the sea, with hulls shattered, masts gone, and thousands of wounded and drowning clinging to spars, and crying vainly for help.

As we have already seen, Barberigo, with the Christian left wing, was early in sore distress; Barberigo himself being mortally wounded, his line turned, and several of his galleys being sunk or captured. But the Venetians, in sheer despair, increased their efforts, and succeeded in driving off their enemies. In turn they became the assailants, and boarded Turk after Turk, putting the crews to the sword. They were led to the assault by a Capuchin friar, crucifix in hand--as were many other crews.

In some cases the Christian galley slaves of the Turkish vessels broke their chains and joined their countrymen against their Moslem masters.

The galley of the Viceroy of Egypt was sunk, and he himself was killed by John Contarini, the Venetians having no mercy for even a drowning Turkish enemy. The death of their commander spread dismay among his followers, and that division fled before the Venetians. Those nearest the land ran on shore, escaping, and leaving their vessels to be captured, and many perished before they could gain the land. Barberigo lived to hear the news, and giving thanks, expired in the moment of victory.

All this time the combat between the two commanders-in-chief had been going on, with an incessant blaze of great guns and musketry, making a cloud of smoke, riven by flame. Both parties fought with stubborn courage. Twice the Spaniards had boarded, and twice had been repulsed with severe loss. The enemy was continually reinforced, in spite of the loss inflicted by the steady fire of the Spanish arquebusiers. Occasionally interrupted, they always returned to each other; and both commanders exposed themselves as fully as any soldier, there being no honorable place of safety. Don John was slightly wounded in the foot, but would not have it dressed. A third time his trumpets summoned the boarders, and the Spaniards again boldly boarded the great Turkish galley. They were met by Ali, at the head of his janizaries; but the Ottoman leader was just then knocked senseless by a musket ball, and his chosen troops, though fighting well, missed his voice and presence. After a short but furious struggle they threw down their arms. Under a heap of slain the body of Ali was found. Life was not extinct, but he would at once have been dispatched had he not told the soldiers who discovered him where his money and jewels were to be found. In their haste to secure these, they left him lying upon the deck. Just then a galley slave, who had been liberated and armed, severed the head of Ali from his body, and carried it to Don John, on board his galley. Don John was shocked at the sight, and, after a glance of horror and pity, ordered it to be thrown into the sea. This was not done, however, but, in revenge for Bragadino, it was placed upon a pike, while the crescent banner was hauled down, and the cross run up in its place. The sight of the sacred banner flying on board the captured flag-ship was welcomed by the Christian fleet with shouts of victory, which rose above the din of battle. The intelligence of the death of Ali was soon passed along the line, cheering the Allies, and disheartening the Turks, whose exertions diminished and whose fire slackened.

They were too far off to seek the shore, as their comrades on the right had done, and they had either to fight or surrender. Most of them preferred the latter, and their vessels were now carried by boarding, or sunk by the Allies; and in four hours the centre of the Moslem fleet, like their right wing, had been annihilated.

On the right of the Allies, however, Uluch Ali, the redoubted Algerine, had cut Doria’s weakened line, and inflicted great damage and loss, and would have done more but for the arrival of the reserve, under the Marquis Santa Cruz. He had already assisted Don John when assailed by overwhelming numbers, and had enabled him again to attack Ali.

Santa Cruz, seeing the critical condition of Doria, pushed forward to his relief, supported by the Sicilian squadron. Dashing into the midst of the mêlée, the two commanders fell like a thunder-bolt upon the Algerine galleys, few of which attempted to withstand the shock; and in their haste to avoid it, they were caught again by Doria and his Genoese.

Beset on all sides, Uluch Ali was compelled to abandon his prizes and seek safety in flight. He cut adrift his great prize, the Maltese “Capitana,” which he had attached by a hawser to the stern of his own vessel, and on board of which three hundred corpses attested the desperate character of her defence.

As tidings reached him of the defeat of the centre, and of the death of Ali Pasha, he felt that retreat alone was left for him, with as many of his own ships as he could save from capture. His contingent comprised the best vessels in the Turkish fleet, with crews in perfect discipline and hardened to the sea, having always been corsairs, and accustomed to scour the Mediterranean at all seasons.

Making signal for retreat, the Algerine made off, under all the sail the battle had left him, and urged forward also by the exertions of his Christian galley slaves, smarting under the blows of his enraged _comites_.

Doria and Santa Cruz followed swiftly in his wake, but he managed to distance them, and to carry off with him many of his ships. Don John himself joined in the chase, having disposed of his own assailants, and they finally managed to drive a few of the Algerine vessels upon the rocks of a headland; but their crews in great part escaped. Uluch’s escape was due to the fact that the rowers of the Christian fleet had taken part in the battle, and while many were killed or wounded, the remainder were much exhausted, while the Algerine galley slaves, chained to their benches, and passive during much of the fight, were comparatively fresh.

As already stated, the battle lasted more than four hours, and before it was over the sky showed signs of a coming storm. Don John reconnoitred the scene of action before seeking a shelter for himself and his numerous prizes. Several vessels were found to be too much damaged for further service, and as these were mostly prizes, he ordered everything of value to be removed from them and the hulls burned.

He then led his victorious fleet to the neighboring haven of Petala, which was accessible and secure. Before he reached there the storm had begun, while the late scene of battle was lighted up by the blazing wrecks, throwing up streams of fire and showers of sparks.

The young commander-in-chief was now congratulated upon his signal victory, by his companions in arms.

Officers and men recounted the various events of the day, and natural exultation was mingled with gloom as they gained certain tidings of the loss of friends who had bought this great success with their blood.

The loss of life had indeed been very great; greater by far than in any modern sea fight. It is supposed that the Turks suffered most heavily, but their loss was never known. It has been estimated at 25,000 killed and drowned, and 5000 prisoners. It was, indeed, a crushing blow to them.

To the victors great pleasure was given by the fact that at least 12,000 Christian slaves, who had been (some of them for many years) chained to the oars of the Turkish galleys, were made free. Many of them were hopelessly broken in health; but tears streamed down their haggard cheeks at the prospect of dying in their own land and among their own people.

The losses of the Allies, though very great, were as nothing compared to that of the Moslem. About one thousand Romans and two thousand Spaniards were killed, while the Venetians and Sicilians lost about five thousand. This disparity of loss has been attributed to the superiority of the Christians in the use of firearms. The Turks still clung to the bow, and a large proportion of their fighting men were thus armed. The Turks, moreover, were the vanquished party, and, as is generally the case, suffered terribly in the pursuit. Their great armada was almost annihilated, not more than forty of their galleys escaping. One hundred and thirty were actually taken, and divided among the conquerors; the remainder were either sunk or burned. The Allies had about fifteen galleys sunk, and had many much damaged; but their vessels were much better constructed and stronger than those of the Turks, whom they also excelled in nautical evolutions.

An immense booty of gold, jewels and brocades was found on board the prizes; it being said that Ali Pasha’s ship alone contained 170,000 gold sequins, or nearly $400,000, a very large sum for those days.

The number of persons of rank and consideration who embarked in the expedition was very great, both among the Christians and the Moslem, and many of these were slain. The second in command of the Venetian force, the commander-in-chief of the Turkish fleet, and the commander of his right wing, all fell in the battle. Many a high-born Christian cavalier closed at Lepanto a long career of honorable service. On the other hand many dated the commencement of their success in arms from that day. Among these was Alexander Farnese, Prince of Parma, who became a great general, and whom we shall hear of again, in connection with the Spanish Armada. Although only a few years younger than his kinsman, Don John, he was making his first campaign as a private adventurer. During the battle the galley in which he was embarked was lying, yard arm and yard arm, alongside a Turkish galley, with which she was hotly engaged. In the midst of the fight Farnese sprang on board the enemy, hewing down with his Andrea Ferrara all who opposed him, thus opening a path for his comrades, who poured in, one after another, and after a bloody contest, captured the vessel. As Farnese’s galley lay just astern of that of Don John, the latter witnessed, with great pride and delight, the gallant deed of his nephew. Another youth was at Lepanto, who, though then unknown, was destined to win greater laurels than those of the battle field. This was Miguel de Cervantes, then twenty-four years of age, and serving as a common soldier. He had been ill of a fever, but on the morning of the battle insisted on taking a very exposed post. Here he was wounded twice in the chest, and once in the left hand, from which he lost its use. The right hand served to write one of the most remarkable books ever known, Don Quixote; and Cervantes always said that, for all his wounds, he would not have missed the glory of being present on that memorable day.

A fierce storm raged for twenty-four hours after the battle of Lepanto, but the fleet rode in safety at Petala; and it remained there four days, during which Don John visited the different vessels, providing for their repairs and for the wounded, and distributing honors among those who had earned them. His kindly and generous disposition was not only shown to his own people, but to the Turkish prisoners. Among these were two young sons of Ali, the Moslem commander-in-chief. They had not been on board his galley, and to their affliction at his death was now added the doom of imprisonment.

Don John sent for them, and they prostrated themselves before him on the deck; but he raised and embraced them, and said all he could to console them, ordering them to be treated with the consideration due to their rank. He also assigned them quarters, and gave them rich apparel and a sumptuous table. A letter came from their sister, Fatima, soliciting the freedom of her brothers and appealing to Don John’s well known humanity. He had already sent a courier to Constantinople, to convey the assurance of their safety. As was the custom then, Fatima had sent with her letter presents of enormous value.

In the division of the spoils and slaves, the young Turkish princes had been assigned to the Pope, but Don John succeeded in procuring their liberation. Unfortunately, the elder, who was about seventeen, died at Naples; but the younger, who was only thirteen, was sent home with his attendants, and with him were sent the presents received from Fatima, on the ground that the young commander-in-chief only granted free favors.

Don John also made friends with the testy old Venetian admiral, Veniero, with whom he had had a serious difficulty before the battle.

Veniero afterwards became Doge--the third of his family to reach that eminence--which office he held until his death.

Before leaving Petala a council was held, to decide upon the next operation of the fleet. Some were for an immediate attack upon Constantinople; while others considered the fleet in no condition for such an enterprise, and recommended that it be disbanded, go into winter quarters, and renew operations in the spring.

Some agreed with Don John, that, before disbanding, they should do something more. An attack upon Santa Maura was determined on; but on reconnoitering, it was found to be too strong to be captured otherwise than by siege.

A division of spoils among the Allies then took place. One-half of the captured vessels, and of the artillery and small arms, was set apart for the King of Spain. The other half was divided between the Pope and the Republic of Venice; while the money and rich goods were distributed among the officers and crews.

The fleet then dispersed; and Don John proceeded to Messina, where great joy was felt, and immense fêtes awaited him; for he had been gone from them only six weeks, and had, in the meantime, won the greatest battle of modern times. The whole population flocked to the water side to welcome the victorious fleet, which came back not without scars, but bearing the consecrated banner still proudly aloft. In their rear were the battered prizes, with their flags trailing ignominiously in the water. There were music, garlands of flowers, triumphal arches, salvos of artillery, a gorgeous canopy, and a _Te Deum_ in the Cathedral. A grand banquet followed, when Don John was presented with 30,000 crowns by the city, which also voted him a colossal statue in bronze. Don John accepted the money, but only for the sick and wounded; and his own share of booty from Ali’s galley he ordered to be distributed among his own crew.

The news of Lepanto caused a great sensation throughout Christendom, as the Turks had been considered invincible at sea. Upon the receipt of the intelligence the Sultan Selim covered his head with dust, and refused food for three days--while all Christendom was repeating, after the sovereign Pontiff, “There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.”

In Venice, which might be said to have gained a new lease of life from the results of the battle, there were ceremonial rejoicings, and, by public decree, the 7th of October was set apart forever as a national anniversary.

In Naples the joy was great, as their coasts had been so often desolated by Ottoman cruisers, and their people carried off as slaves. So, when Santa Cruz returned he was welcomed as a deliverer from bondage.

But even greater honors were paid to Colonna, in Rome. He was borne in stately procession, and trophies were carried after him, with the captives following, quite in the style of the old Roman triumphs.

Of course, the rejoicing in Spain did not fall short of that in the other countries concerned.

The great Ottoman standard, the greatest trophy of the battle, was deposited in the Escorial, where it was afterwards destroyed by fire.

When the victory was announced to Philip he was at prayer, which he did not interrupt, and he pretended to receive the intelligence very coolly. But he ordered illuminations and masses; and commanded Titian, who was then in Madrid, and ninety years of age, to paint the “Victory of the League,” still in the Museum of Madrid.

The Pope made every effort, by special ambassadors, to have the King press the war, and to extend the alliance against the Turks.

But Philip was lukewarm, even cold, and said that, for his part, he feared the Turks less than he did the Christian dissenters of Belgium, England, and the Low Countries.

It has been said that Charles V would have followed his victory to the gates of Constantinople, but the Duke of Alva thought that, Don John’s force being a mixed one, he would not have succeeded unless supported by the united force of Christendom, so great was the Moslem power at that time.

The battle lost the Turks no territory, but broke the charm of invincibility which they had possessed. Venice gained confidence, and the Ottomans never again took the initiative against that State--while those who have most carefully studied the history of the Ottoman Empire date its decline from the battle of Lepanto.

VI.

THE INVINCIBLE ARMADA. A. D. 1588.

Armada signifies, in Spanish, a Sea Army; and Philip the Second named the great fleet which he sent forth in 1588 “invincible,” because he thought that it must prevail against the forces of the heretic Hollanders and English, who excited his disgust and anger much more than the Moslem enemies with whom we have seen him last engaged.

Philip II, son of Charles V, was born at Valladolid, in 1527, and, by the abdication of his father, became King of Spain in 1556. His first wife was Maria, of Portugal, and his second was Mary Tudor, daughter of Henry VIII.

Philip was the most powerful prince of his time. Spain, Naples, Sicily, the Milanais, Franche Comté, the Low Countries, Tunis, Oran, the Cape Verdes, Canaries, and a great part of the Americas owned his sway.

Always a fanatic, as he advanced in years the extermination of heretics became his one passion. He sent the pitiless Duke of Alva to the Low Countries, where, however, all his cruelties and persecutions could not prevent the spread of the Reformed religion. Fortunately for England, as we shall see, the Low Countries secured their independence in 1581.

In Spain, Philip was employing the Inquisition against Moors and heretics; and executions were depopulating the Peninsula and ruining the country. It was only by serious insurrections that the Milanese resisted the establishment of the Inquisition there; but to make up for that, and for his loss of the Low Countries, Philip had made the conquest of Portugal, and had extended to that country the practices of Spain.