WAR WITH THE TURKS.
Plan of Operations--Tidings of the Enemy--Preparations for
Combat--Battle of Lepanto--Rout of the Turkish Armada.
1571.
[Sidenote: PLAN OF OPERATIONS.]
As the allied fleet coasted along the Calabrian shore, it was so much
baffled by rough seas and contrary winds that its progress was slow. Not
long before his departure Don John had sent a small squadron under a
Spanish captain, Gil de Andrada, to collect tidings of the enemy. On his
return that commander met the Christian fleet, and reported that the
Turks, with a powerful armament, were still in the Adriatic, where they
had committed fearful ravages on the Venetian territories. Don John now
steered his course for Corfu, which, however, he did not reach till the
twenty-sixth of September. He soon had ample opportunities of seeing for
himself the traces of the enemy, in the smoking hamlets and desolated
fields along the coast. The allies were welcomed with joy by the
islanders, who furnished them with whatever supplies they needed. Here
Don John learned that the Ottoman fleet had been standing into the Gulf
of Lepanto, where it lay as if waiting the coming of the Christians.
The young commander-in-chief had now no hesitation as to the course he
ought to pursue. But he chose to call a council of his principal
captains before deciding. The treaty of alliance, indeed, required him
to consult with the other commanders before taking any decisive step in
matters of importance; and this had been strenuously urged on him by the
king, ever afraid of his brother's impetuosity.
The opinions of the council were divided. Some who had had personal
experience of the naval prowess of the Turks appeared to shrink from
encountering so formidable an armament, and would have confined the
operations of the fleet to the siege of some place belonging to the
Moslems. Even Doria, whose life had been spent in fighting with the
infidel, thought it was not advisable to attack the enemy in his present
position, surrounded by friendly shores, whence he might easily obtain
succour. It would be better, he urged, to attack some neighbouring
place, like Navarino, which might have the effect of drawing him from
the gulf, and thus compel him to give battle in some quarter more
advantageous to the allies.
But the majority of the council took a very different view of the
matter. To them it appeared that the great object of the expedition was
to destroy the Ottoman fleet, and that a better opportunity could not be
offered than the present one, while the enemy was shut up in the gulf,
from which, if defeated, he would find no means of escape. Fortunately,
this was the opinion, not only of the majority, but of most of those
whose opinions were entitled to the greatest deference. Among these were
the gallant marquis of Santa Cruz, the Grand-Commander Requesens, who
still remained near the person of Don John, and had command of a galley
in his rear, Cardona, general of the Sicilian squadron, Barbarigo, the
Venetian _provveditore_, next in authority to the captain-general of his
nation, the Roman Colonna, and Alexander Farnese, the young prince of
Parma, Don John's nephew, who had come, on this memorable occasion, to
take his first lesson in the art of war,--an art in which he was
destined to remain without a rival.
The commander-in-chief, with no little satisfaction, saw himself so well
supported in his own judgment; and he resolved, without any unnecessary
delay, to give the Turks battle in the position they had chosen. He was
desirous, however, to be joined by part of his fleet, which, baffled by
the winds, and without oars, still lagged far behind. For the galley,
with its numerous oars in addition to its sails, had somewhat of the
properties of a modern steamer, which so gallantly defies both wind and
wave. As Don John wished also to review his fleet before coming into
action, he determined to cross over to Comenizza, a capacious and
well-protected port on the opposite coast of Albania.
This he did on the thirtieth of September. Here the vessels were got in
readiness for immediate action. They passed in review before the
commander-in-chief, and went through their various evolutions, while the
artillerymen and musketeers showed excellent practice. Don John looked
with increased confidence to the approaching combat. An event, however,
occurred at this time, which might have been attended with the worst
consequences.
A Roman officer, named Tortona, one of those who had been drafted to
make up the complement of the Venetian galleys, engaged in a brawl with
some of his crew. This reached the ears of Veniero, the Venetian
captain-general. The old man, naturally of a choleric temper, and still
smarting from the insult which he fancied he had received by the
introduction of the allies on board of his vessels, instantly ordered
the arrest of the offender. Tortona for a long while resisted the
execution of these orders; and when finally seized, with some of his
companions, they were all sentenced by the vindictive Veniero to be hung
at the yardarm. Such a high-handed proceeding caused the deepest
indignation in Don John, who regarded it, moreover, as an insult to
himself. In the first moments of his wrath he talked of retaliating on
the Venetian admiral by a similar punishment. But, happily, the
remonstrances of Colonna--who, as the papal commander, had in truth the
most reason to complain--and the entreaties of other friends, prevailed
on the angry chief to abstain from any violent act. He insisted,
however, that Veniero should never again take his place at the
council-board, but should be there represented by the _provveditore_
Barbarigo, next in command,--a man, fortunately, possessed of a better
control over his temper than was shown by his superior. Thus the cloud
passed away, which threatened for a moment to break up the harmony of
the allies, and to bring ruin on the enterprise.[309]
On the third of October, Don John, without waiting longer for the
missing vessels, again put to sea, and stood for the Gulf of Lepanto. As
the fleet swept down the Ionian Sea, it passed many a spot famous in
ancient story. None, we may imagine, would be so likely to excite an
interest at this time as Actium, on whose waters was fought the greatest
naval battle of antiquity. But the mariner probably gave little thought
to the past, as he dwelt on the conflict that awaited him at Lepanto. On
the fifth, a thick fog enveloped the armada, and shut out every object
from sight. Fortunately, the vessels met with no injury, and, passing by
Ithaca, the ancient home of Ulysses, they safely anchored off the
eastern coast of Cephalonia. For two days their progress was thwarted by
headwinds. But on the seventh, Don John, impatient of delay, again put
to sea, though wind and weather were still unfavourable.
While lying off Cephalonia he had received tidings that Famagosta, the
second city of Cyprus, had fallen into the hands of the enemy, and this
under circumstances of unparalleled perfidy and cruelty. The place,
after a defence that had cost hecatombs of lives to the besiegers, was
allowed to capitulate on honourable terms. Mustapha, the Moslem
commander, the same fierce chief who had conducted the siege of Malta,
requested an interview at his quarters with four of the principal
Venetian captains. After a short and angry conference, he ordered them
all to execution. Three were beheaded. The other, a noble named
Bragadino, who had held the supreme command, he caused to be flayed
alive in the market-place of the city. The skin of the wretched victim
was then stuffed; and with this ghastly trophy dangling from the yardarm
of his galley, the brutal monster sailed back to Constantinople, to
receive the reward of his services from Selim.[310] These services were
great. The fall of Famagosta secured the fall of Cyprus, which thus
became permanently incorporated in the Ottoman empire.[311]
[Sidenote: PREPARATIONS FOR COMBAT.]
The tidings of these shocking events filled the breast of every Venetian
with an inextinguishable thirst for vengeance. The confederates entered
heartily into these feelings; and all on board of the armada were
impatient for the hour that was to bring them hand to hand with the
enemies of the Faith.
It was two hours before dawn, on Sunday, the memorable seventh of
October, when the fleet weighed anchor. The wind had become lighter; but
it was still contrary, and the galleys were indebted for their progress
much more to their oars than their sails. By sunrise they were abreast
of the Curzolari,--a cluster of huge rocks, or rocky islets, which on
the north defends the entrance of the Gulf of Lepanto. The fleet moved
laboriously along, while every eye was strained to catch the first
glimpse of the hostile navy. At length the watch on the fore-top of the
_Real_ called out "A sail!" and soon after declared that the whole
Ottoman fleet was in sight. Several others, climbing up the rigging,
confirmed his report; and in a few moments more, word was sent to the
same effect by Andrew Doria, who commanded on the right. There was no
longer any doubt; and Don John, ordering his pennon to be displayed at
the mizen-peak, unfurled the great standard of the League, given by the
pope, and directed a gun to be fired, the signal for battle. The report,
as it ran along the rocky shores, fell cheerily on the ears of the
confederates, who, raising their eyes towards the consecrated banner,
filled the air with their shouts.[312]
The principal captains now came on board the _Real_, to receive the last
orders of the commander-in-chief. Even at this late hour, there were
some who ventured to intimate their doubts of the expediency of engaging
the enemy in a position where he had a decided advantage. But Don John
cut short the discussion. "Gentlemen," he said, "this is the time for
combat, not for counsel." He then continued the dispositions he was
making for the attack.
He had already given to each commander of a galley written instructions
as to the manner in which the line of battle was to be formed in case of
meeting the enemy. The armada was now disposed in that order. It
extended on a front of three miles. Far on the right, a squadron of
sixty-four galleys was commanded by the Genoese admiral, Andrew
Doria,--a name of terror to the Moslems. The centre, or _battle_, as it
was called, consisting of sixty-three galleys, was led by John of
Austria, who was supported on the one side by Colonna, the
captain-general of the pope, and on the other by the Venetian
captain-general, Veniero. Immediately in the rear was the galley of the
Grand-Commander Requesens, who still remained near the person of his
former pupil; though a difference which arose between them on the
voyage, fortunately now healed, showed that the young commander-in-chief
was wholly independent of his teacher in the art of war.
The left wing was commanded by the noble Venetian, Barbarigo, whose
vessels stretched along the AEtolian shore, to which he approached as
near as, in his ignorance of the coast, he dared to venture, so as to
prevent his being turned by the enemy. Finally, the reserve, consisting
of thirty-five galleys, was given to the brave marquis of Santa Cruz,
with directions to act in any quarter where he thought his presence most
needed. The smaller craft, some of which had now arrived, seem to have
taken little part in the action, which was thus left to the galleys.
Each commander was to occupy so much space with his galley as to allow
room for manoeuvring it to advantage, and yet not enough to allow the
enemy to break the line. He was directed to single out his adversary, to
close with him at once, and board as soon as possible. The beaks of the
galleys were pronounced to be a hindrance rather than a help in action.
They were rarely strong enough to resist a shock from an antagonist, and
they much interfered with the working and firing of the guns. Don John
had the beak of his vessel cut away. The example was followed
throughout the fleet, and, as it is said, with eminently good effect. It
may seem strange that this discovery should have been reserved for the
crisis of a battle.[313]
When the officers had received their last instructions, they returned to
their respective vessels; and Don John, going on board of a light
frigate, passed rapidly through the part of the armada lying on his
right, while he commanded Requesens to do the same with the vessels on
his left. His object was to feel the temper of his men, and to rouse
their mettle by a few words of encouragement. The Venetians he reminded
of their recent injuries. The hour for vengeance, he told them, had
arrived. To the Spaniards and other confederates he said--"You have come
to fight the battle of the Cross; to conquer or to die. But whether you
are to die or conquer, do your duty this day, and you will secure a
glorious immortality." His words were received with a burst of
enthusiasm which went to the heart of the commander, and assured him
that he could rely on his men in the hour of trial. On returning to his
vessel, he saw Veniero on his quarter-deck; and they exchanged
salutations in as friendly a manner as if no difference had existed
between them. At this solemn hour both these brave men were willing to
forget all personal animosity in a common feeling of devotion to the
great cause in which they were engaged.[314]
The Ottoman fleet came on slowly and with difficulty. For, strange to
say, the wind, which had hitherto been adverse to the Christians, after
lulling for a time, suddenly shifted to the opposite quarter, and blew
in the face of the enemy.[315] As the day advanced, moreover, the sun,
which had shone in the eyes of the confederates, gradually shot its rays
into those of the Moslems. Both circumstances were of good omen to the
Christians, and the first was regarded as nothing short of a direct
interposition of Heaven. Thus ploughing its way along, the Turkish
armament, as it came more into view, showed itself in greater strength
than had been anticipated by the allies. It consisted of nearly two
hundred and fifty royal galleys, most of them of the largest class,
besides a number of smaller vessels in the rear, which, like those of
the allies, appear scarcely to have come into action. The men on board
of every description were computed at not less than a hundred and twenty
thousand.[316] The galleys spread out, as usual with the Turks, in the
form of a regular halfmoon, covering a wider extent of surface than the
combined fleets, which they somewhat exceeded in number. They presented,
indeed, as they drew nearer, a magnificent array, with their gilded and
gaudily-painted prows, and their myriads of pennons and streamers,
fluttering gaily in the breeze; while the rays of the morning sun
glanced on the polished scimitars of Damascus and on the superb
aigrettes of jewels which sparkled in the turbans of the Ottoman chiefs.
[Sidenote: PREPARATIONS FOR COMBAT.]
In the centre of the extended line, and directly opposite to the station
occupied by the captain-general of the League, was the huge galley of
Ali Pasha. The right of the armada was commanded by Mahomet Sirocco,
viceroy of Egypt, a circumspect as well as courageous leader; the left,
by Uluch Ali, dey of Algiers, the redoubtable corsair of the
Mediterranean. Ali Pasha had experienced a difficulty like that of Don
John, as several of his officers had strongly urged the inexpediency of
engaging so formidable an armament as that of the allies. But Ali, like
his rival, was young and ambitious. He had been sent by his master to
fight the enemy; and no remonstrances, not even those of Mahomet
Sirocco, for whom he had great respect, could turn him from his purpose.
He had, moreover, received intelligence that the allied fleet was much
inferior in strength to what it proved. In this error he was fortified
by the first appearance of the Christians; for the extremity of their
left wing, commanded by Barbarigo, stretching behind the AEtolian shore,
was hidden from his view. As he drew nearer, and saw the whole extent of
the Christian lines, it is said his countenance fell. If so, he still
did not abate one jot of his resolution. He spoke to those around him
with the same confidence as before, of the result of the battle. He
urged his rowers to strain every nerve. Ali was a man of more humanity
in his nature than often belonged to his nation. His galley-slaves were
all, or nearly all, Christian captives; and he addressed them in this
brief and pithy manner: "If your countrymen are to win this day, Allah
give you the benefit of it; yet if I win it, you shall certainly have
your freedom. If you feel that I do well by you, do then the like by
me."[317]
As the Turkish admiral drew nearer, he made a change in his order of
battle, by separating his wings further from his centre; thus conforming
to the dispositions of the allies. Before he had come within
cannon-shot, he fired a gun by way of challenge to his enemy. It was
answered by another from the galley of John of Austria. A second gun
discharged by Ali was as promptly replied to by the Christian commander.
The distance between the two fleets was now rapidly diminishing. At this
solemn moment a deathlike silence reigned throughout the armament of the
confederates. Men seemed to hold their breath, as if absorbed in the
expectation of some great catastrophe. The day was magnificent. A light
breeze, still adverse to the Turks, played on the waters, somewhat
fretted by the contrary winds. It was nearly noon; and as the sun,
mounting through a cloudless sky, rose to the zenith, he seemed to
pause, as if to look down on the beautiful scene, where the multitude of
galleys, moving over the water, showed like a holiday spectacle rather
than a preparation for mortal combat.
The illusion was soon dispelled by the fierce yells which rose on the
air from the Turkish armada. It was the customary war-cry with which the
Moslems entered into battle. Very different was the scene on board of
the Christian galleys. Don John might be there seen, armed _cap-a-pie_,
standing on the prow of the _Real_, anxiously awaiting the conflict. In
this conspicuous position, kneeling down, he raised his eyes to heaven,
and humbly prayed that the Almighty would be with His people on that
day. His example was followed by the whole fleet. Officers and men, all
prostrating themselves on their knees, and turning their eyes to the
consecrated banner which floated from the _Real_, put up a petition like
that of their commander. They then received absolution from the priests,
of whom there were some in every vessel; and each man, as he rose to his
feet, gathered new strength, as he felt assured that the Lord of Hosts
would fight on his side.[318]
When the foremost vessels of the Turks had come within cannon-shot, they
opened their fire on the Christians. The firing soon ran along the whole
of the Turkish line, and was kept up without interruption as it
advanced. Don John gave orders for trumpet and atabal to sound the
signal for action; which was followed by the simultaneous discharge of
such of the guns in the combined fleet as could be brought to bear on
the enemy. The Spanish commander had caused the _galeazzas_, those
mammoth war-ships of which some account has been already given, to be
towed half a mile ahead of the fleet, where they might intercept the
advance of the Turks. As the latter came abreast of them, the huge
galleys delivered their broadsides right and left; and their heavy
ordnance produced a startling effect. Ali Pasha gave orders for his
galleys to open their line and pass on either side, without engaging
these monsters of the deep, of which he had had no experience. Even so,
their heavy guns did considerable damage to several of the nearest
vessels, and created some confusion in the pacha's line of battle. They
were, however, but unwieldy craft, and, having accomplished their
object, seem to have taken no further part in the combat.
The action began on the left wing of the allies, which Mahomet Sirocco
was desirous of turning. This had been anticipated by Barbarigo, the
Venetian admiral, who commanded in that quarter. To prevent it, as we
have seen, he lay with his vessels as near the coast as he dared.
Sirocco, better acquainted with the soundings, saw there was space
enough for him to pass; and darting by with all the speed that oars
could give him, he succeeded in doubling on his enemy. Thus placed
between two fires, the extreme of the Christian left fought at terrible
disadvantage. No less than eight galleys went to the bottom, and several
others were captured. The brave Barbarigo, throwing himself into the
heat of the fight, without availing himself of his defensive armour, was
pierced in the eye by an arrow, and, reluctant to leave the glory of the
field to another, was borne to his cabin. The combat still continued
with unabated fury on the part of the Venetians. They fought like men
who felt that the war was theirs, and who were animated not only by the
thirst for glory, but for revenge.[319]
Far on the Christian right a manoeuvre similar to that so successfully
executed by Sirocco was attempted by Uluch Ali, the dey of Algiers.
Profiting by his superiority in numbers, he endeavoured to turn the
right wing of the confederates. It was in this quarter that Andrew Doria
commanded. He had foreseen this movement of his enemy, and he succeeded
in foiling it. It was a trial of skill between the two most accomplished
seamen in the Mediterranean. Doria extended his line so far to the right
indeed, to prevent being surrounded, that Don John was obliged to remind
him that he left the centre too much exposed. His dispositions were so
far unfortunate for himself, that his own line was thus weakened, and
afforded some vulnerable points to his assailant. These were soon
detected by the eagle eye of Uluch Ali; and, like the king of birds
swooping on his prey, he fell on some galleys separated by a
considerable interval from their companions, and, sinking more than one,
carried off the great _Capitana_ of Malta in triumph as his prize.[320]
[Sidenote: BATTLE OF LEPANTO.]
While the combat opened thus disastrously to the allies both on the
right and on the left, in the centre they may be said to have fought
with doubtful fortune. Don John had led his division gallantly forward.
But the object on which he was intent was an encounter with Ali Pasha,
the foe most worthy of his sword. The Turkish commander had the same
combat no less at heart. The galleys of both were easily recognized, not
only from their position, but from their superior size and richer
decoration. The one, moreover, displayed the holy banner of the League;
the other, the great Ottoman standard. This, like the ancient standard
of the caliphs, was held sacred in its character. It was covered with
texts from the Koran, emblazoned in letters of gold, and had the name of
Allah inscribed upon it no less than twenty-eight thousand nine hundred
times. It was the banner of the sultan, having passed from father to son
since the foundation of the imperial dynasty, and was never seen in the
field unless the Grand Seigneur or his lieutenant was there in
person.[321]
Both the chiefs urged on their rowers to the top of their speed. Their
galleys soon shot ahead of the rest of the line, driven through the
boiling surges as by the force of a tornado, and closed with a shock
that made every timber crack, and the two vessels quiver to their very
keels. So powerful, indeed, was the impetus they received, that the
pacha's galley, which was considerably the larger and loftier of the
two, was thrown so far upon its opponent that the prow reached the
fourth bench of rowers. As soon as the vessels were disengaged from each
other, and those on board had recovered from the shock, the work of
death began. Don John's chief strength consisted in some three hundred
Spanish arquebusiers, culled from the flower of his infantry. Ali, on
the other hand, was provided with an equal number of janizaries. He was
followed by a smaller vessel, in which two hundred more were stationed
as a _corps de reserve_. He had, moreover, a hundred archers on board.
The bow was still as much in use with the Turks as with the other
Moslems.
The pacha opened at once on his enemy a terrible fire of cannon and
musketry. It was returned with equal spirit and much more effect: for
the Turks were observed to shoot over the heads of their adversaries.
The Moslem galley was unprovided with the defences which protected the
sides of the Spanish vessels; and the troops, crowded together on the
lofty prow, presented an easy mark to their enemy's balls. But though
numbers of them fell at every discharge, their places were soon supplied
by those in reserve. They were enabled, therefore, to keep up an
incessant fire, which wasted the strength of the Spaniards; and as both
Christian and Mussulman fought with indomitable spirit, it seemed
doubtful to which side victory would incline.
The affair was made more complicated by the entrance of other parties
into the conflict. Both Ali and Don John were supported by some of the
most valiant captains in their fleets. Next to the Spanish commander, as
we have seen, were Colonna and the veteran Veniero, who, at the age of
seventy-six, performed feats of arms worthy of a paladin of romance. In
this way a little squadron of combatants gathered round the principal
leaders, who sometimes found themselves assailed by several enemies at
the same time. Still the chiefs did not lose sight of one another; but,
beating off their inferior foes as well as they could, each, refusing to
loosen his hold, clung with mortal grasp to his antagonist.[322]
Thus the fight raged along the whole extent of the entrance to the Gulf
of Lepanto. The volumes of vapour rolling heavily over the waters
effectually shut out from sight whatever was passing at any considerable
distance, unless when a fresher breeze dispelled the smoke for a moment,
or the flashes of the heavy guns threw a transient gleam on the dark
canopy of battle. If the eye of the spectator could have penetrated the
cloud of smoke that enveloped the combatants, and have embraced the
whole scene at a glance, he would have perceived them broken into small
detachments, separately engaged one with another, independently of the
rest, and indeed ignorant of all that was doing in other quarters. The
contest exhibited few of those large combinations and skilful
manoeuvres to be expected in a great naval encounter. It was rather an
assemblage of petty actions, resembling those on land. The galleys,
grappling together, presented a level arena, on which soldier and
galley-slave fought hand to hand; and the fate of the engagement was
generally decided by boarding. As in most hand-to-hand contests, there
was an enormous waste of life. The decks were loaded with corpses,
Christian and Moslem lying promiscuously together in the embrace of
death. Instances are recorded where every man on board was slain or
wounded.[323] It was a ghastly spectacle, where blood flowed in rivulets
down the sides of the vessels, staining the waters of the gulf for miles
around.
It seemed as if a hurricane had swept over the sea, and covered it with
the wreck of the noble armaments which a moment before were so proudly
riding on its bosom. Little had they now to remind one of their late
magnificent array, with their hulls battered, their masts and spars gone
or splintered by the shot, their canvas cut into shreds and floating
wildly on the breeze, while thousands of wounded and drowning men were
clinging to the floating fragments, and calling piteously for help. Such
was the wild uproar which succeeded the Sabbath-like stillness that, two
hours before, had reigned over these beautiful solitudes.
The left wing of the confederates, commanded by Barbarigo, had been
sorely pressed by the Turks, as we have seen, at the beginning of the
fight. Barbarigo himself had been mortally wounded. His line had been
turned. Several of his galleys had been sunk. But the Venetians gathered
courage from despair. By incredible efforts, they succeeded in beating
off their enemies. They became the assailants in their turn. Sword in
hand, they carried one vessel after another. The Capuchin was seen in
the thickest of the fight, waving aloft his crucifix, and leading the
boarders to the assault.[324] The Christian galley-slaves, in some
instances, broke their fetters, and joined their countrymen against
their masters. Fortunately, the vessel of Mahomet Sirocco the Moslem
admiral, was sunk; and though extricated from the water himself, it was
only to perish by the sword of his conqueror, Giovanni Contarini. The
Venetian could find in his heart no mercy for the Turk.
[Sidenote: BATTLE OF LEPANTO.]
The fall of their commander gave the final blow to his followers.
Without further attempt to prolong the fight, they fled before the
avenging swords of the Venetians. Those nearest the land endeavoured to
escape by running their vessels ashore, where they abandoned them as
prizes to the Christians. Yet many of the fugitives, before gaining the
land, perished miserably in the waves. Barbarigo, the Venetian admiral,
who was still lingering in agony, heard the tidings of the enemy's
defeat, and, uttering a few words expressive of his gratitude to Heaven,
which had permitted him to see this hour, he breathed his last.[325]
During this time the combat had been going forward in the centre between
the two commanders-in-chief, Don John and Ali Pasha, whose galleys
blazed with an incessant fire of artillery and musketry, that enveloped
them like "a martyr's robe of flames." The parties fought with equal
spirit, though not with equal fortune. Twice the Spaniards had boarded
their enemy, and both times they had been repulsed with loss. Still
their superiority in the use of fire-arms would have given them a
decided advantage over their opponents, if the loss they had inflicted
had not been speedily repaired by fresh reinforcements. More than once
the contest between the two chieftains was interrupted by the arrival of
others to take part in the fray. They soon, however, returned to each
other, as if unwilling to waste their strength on a meaner enemy.
Through the whole engagement both commanders exposed themselves to
danger as freely as any common soldier. In such a contest even Philip
must have admitted that it would be difficult for his brother to find,
with honour, a place of safety. Don John received a wound in the foot.
It was a slight one, however, and he would not allow it to be dressed
till the action was over.
Again his men were mustered, and a third time the trumpets sounded to
the attack. It was more successful than the preceding. The Spaniards
threw themselves boldly into the Turkish galley. They were met with the
same spirit as before by the janizaries. Ali Pasha led them on.
Unfortunately, at this moment, he was struck in the head by a
musket-ball, and stretched senseless in the gangway. His men fought
worthily of their ancient renown. But they missed the accustomed voice
of their commander. After a short but ineffectual struggle against the
fiery impetuosity of the Spaniards, they were overpowered, and threw
down their arms. The decks were loaded with the bodies of the dead and
the dying. Beneath these was discovered the Turkish commander-in-chief,
severely wounded, but perhaps not mortally. He was drawn forth by some
Castilian soldiers, who, recognizing his person, would at once have
despatched him. But the disabled chief, having rallied from the first
effects of his wound, had sufficient presence of mind to divert them
from their purpose, by pointing out the place below where he had
deposited his money and jewels; and they hastened to profit by the
disclosure, before the treasure should fall into the hands of their
comrades.
Ali was not so successful with another soldier, who came up soon after,
brandishing his sword, and preparing to plunge it into the body of the
prostrate commander. It was in vain that the latter endeavoured to turn
the ruffian from his purpose. He was a convict, one of those
galley-slaves whom Don John had caused to be unchained from the oar and
furnished with arms. He could not believe that any treasure would be
worth so much as the head of the pacha. Without further hesitation, he
dealt him a blow which severed it from his shoulders. Then, returning to
his galley, he laid the bloody trophy before Don John. But he had
miscalculated on his recompense. His commander gazed on it with a look
of pity mingled with horror. He may have thought of the generous conduct
of Ali to his Christian captives, and have felt that he deserved a
better fate. He coldly inquired "of what use such a present could be to
him;" and then ordered it to be thrown into the sea. Far from the order
being obeyed, it is said the head was stuck on a pike, and raised aloft
on board of the captured galley. At the same time the banner of the
Crescent was pulled down; while that of the Cross, run up in its place,
proclaimed the downfall of the pacha.[326]
The sight of the sacred ensign was welcomed by the Christians with a
shout of "Victory!" which rose high above the din of battle.[327] The
tidings of the death of Ali soon passed from mouth to mouth, giving
fresh heart to the confederates, but falling like a knell on the ears of
the Moslems. Their confidence was gone. Their fire slackened. Their
efforts grew weaker and weaker. They were too far from shore to seek an
asylum there, like their comrades on the right. They had no resource but
to prolong the combat or to surrender. Most preferred the latter. Many
vessels were carried by boarding, others were sunk by the victorious
Christians. Ere four hours had elapsed, the centre, like the right wing,
of the Moslems might be said to be annihilated.
Still the fight was lingering on the right of the confederates, where,
it will be remembered, Uluch Ali, the Algerine chief, had profited by
Doria's error in extending his line so far as greatly to weaken it.
Uluch Ali, attacking it on its most vulnerable quarter, had succeeded,
as we have seen, in capturing and destroying several vessels; and would
have inflicted still heavier losses on his enemy had it not been for the
seasonable succour received from the marquis of Santa Cruz. This brave
officer, who commanded the reserve, had already been of much service to
Don John when the _Real_ was assailed by several Turkish galleys at once
during his combat with Ali Pasha; for at this juncture the marquis of
Santa Cruz arriving, and beating off the assailants, one of whom he
afterwards captured, enabled the commander-in-chief to resume his
engagement with the pacha.
No sooner did Santa Cruz learn the critical situation of Doria, than,
supported by Cardona, "general" of the Sicilian squadron, he pushed
forward to his relief. Dashing into the midst of the _melee_, the two
commanders fell like a thunderbolt on the Algerine galleys. Few
attempted to withstand the shock. But in their haste to avoid it, they
were encountered by Doria and his Genoese galleys. Thus beset on all
sides, Uluch Ali was compelled to abandon his prizes, and provide for
his own safety by flight. He cut adrift the Maltese _Capitana_, which he
had lashed to his stern, and on which three hundred corpses attested the
desperate character of her defence. As tidings reached him of the
discomfiture of the centre, and of the death of Ali Pasha, he felt that
nothing remained but to make the best of his way from the fatal scene of
action, and save as many of his own ships as he could. And there were no
ships in the Turkish fleet superior to his, or manned by men under more
perfect discipline. For they were the famous corsairs of the
Mediterranean, who had been rocked from infancy on its waters.
[Sidenote: ROUT OF THE TURKISH ARMADA.]
Throwing out his signals for retreat, the Algerine was soon to be seen,
at the head of his squadron, standing towards the north, under as much
canvas as remained to him after the battle, and urged forward through
the deep by the whole strength of his oarsmen. Doria and Santa Cruz
followed quickly in his wake. But he was borne on the wings of the wind,
and soon distanced his pursuers. Don John, having disposed of his own
assailants, was coming to the support of Doria, and now joined in the
pursuit of the viceroy. A rocky headland, stretching far into the sea,
lay in the path of the fugitive; and his enemies hoped to intercept him
there. Some few of his vessels were stranded on the rocks. But the rest,
near forty in number, standing more boldly out to sea, safely doubled
the promontory. Then, quickening their flight, they gradually faded from
the horizon, their white sails, the last thing visible, showing in the
distance like a flock of Arctic sea-fowl on their way to their native
homes. The confederates explained the inferior sailing of their own
galleys on this occasion by the circumstance of their rowers, who had
been allowed to bear arms in the fight, being crippled by their wounds.
The battle had lasted more than four hours. The sky, which had been
almost without a cloud through the day, began now to be overcast, and
showed signs of a coming storm. Before seeking a place of shelter for
himself and his prizes, Don John reconnoitred the scene of action. He
met with several vessels too much damaged for further service. These,
mostly belonging to the enemy, after saving what was of any value on
board, he ordered to be burnt. He selected the neighbouring port of
Petala, as affording the most secure and accessible harbour for the
night. Before he had arrived there, the tempest began to mutter, and
darkness was on the water. Yet the darkness rendered only more visible
the blazing wrecks, which, sending up streams of fire mingled with
showers of sparks, looked like volcanoes on the deep.