Sixteen hundred years after Actium another great naval battle took
place upon the coast of Greece. It was of momentous importance, as it
is not too much to say that it decided the future fate and sovereignty
of at least the eastern part of Europe.
Before we speak of Lepanto, however, it may be well to glance at naval
events for two or three centuries previous to the eventful year 1571.
After the Republic of Venice had become strong, their first great sea
fight was with the Saracens, then a terror to all the Christian nations
of the Mediterranean. The Venetians, at the solicitation of the Emperor
Theodosius, coöperated with the Greeks against their implacable enemy.
The hostile fleets met at Crotona, in the Gulf of Taranto, where the
Greeks fled at the first onset of the Saracens, leaving their Venetian
allies to fight against vastly superior numbers. In spite of their
courage and constancy, which maintained the unequal fight for many
hours, the Venetians were defeated, and lost nearly every one of the
sixty ships which they took into the fight.
Twenty-five years afterwards the Venetian fleet met the Saracens again,
almost in the very spot of their former discomfiture, and obtained a
splendid victory; and their naval fights continued, almost without
intermission, and with varying fortunes; the Venetians, on the whole,
holding their own.
On February 13th, 1353, there was a remarkable naval fight between the
allied fleets of Venice, Aragon, and Constantinople, and the Genoese
fleet, under the command of the redoubtable Paganino Doria. The Genoese
were victorious.
In spite of the successful achievements of Doria, which should
have brought him the respect and support of his countrymen, he was
supplanted by his bitter foe, Antonio Grimaldi, who was put in command
of the fleet. He was, not long after, defeated by the allied fleets of
Spain and Venice, with tremendous loss. Grimaldi, thereupon, fell out
of favor; and the next year the Genoese were obliged to again place
Doria in command of their fleet, with which he gained a great victory
over the Venetians at Porto Longo, capturing the whole of their fleet.
Peace between the two Republics was then made, and continued until
1378, when war was again declared. Victor Pisani, in command of the
fleet of Venice, had a successful battle with the Genoese off Actium,
the scene of the wonderful fight just before the commencement of the
Christian era.
In 1379 Pisani was forced by the Venetian Senate, against his own
judgment, to fight a far superior Genoese fleet, under Luciano Doria,
off Pola, in the Adriatic. The Venetian fleet was almost annihilated,
and Pisani, on his return, was loaded with chains, and thrown into a
dungeon. The Genoese, after burning several Venetian towns upon the
Adriatic, appeared off Venice, entered the lagoon, took Chioggia,
and filled the Venetians with consternation and terror. The people
flocked to the Piazza San Marco, in thousands, and demanded that Pisani
be restored to the command of the fleet. The authorities were at
their wits’ ends, and consented, while Pisani, with true patriotism,
condoned his wrongs and ill treatment, and applied himself at once to
the work of organization. After unheard of exertions he succeeded in
discomfiting the enemy, and Venice was saved.
Pisani afterwards made a cruise in command of the fleet on the Asiatic
coast, but, worn out by hard service and his former ill treatment, he
died soon after his return, to the common sorrow and remorse of all
Venetians.
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.
* * * * *
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.