were moved by oars rather than sails, great numbers of oarsmen were

needed. At the head of this powerful armament was Don John of Austria,

brother of Philip II., and the ablest naval commander that Spain

possessed.



At sunrise on the 7th of October the Christian fleet came in sight, at the

entrance to the Bay of Lepanto, on the west of Greece, of the great

Turkish armament, consisting of nearly two hundred and fifty royal

galleys, with a number of smaller vessels in the rear. On these ships are

said to have been not less than one hundred and twenty thousand men. A

great battle for the supremacy of Christian or Mohammedan was about to be

fought between two of the largest fleets ever seen in the Mediterranean.



For more than a century the Turks had been masters of Constantinople and

the Eastern Empire, and had extended their dominion far to the west. The

Mediterranean had become a Turkish lake, which the fleets of the Ottoman

emperors swept at will. Cyprus had fallen, Malta had sustained a terrible

siege, and the coasts of Italy and Spain were exposed to frightful

ravages, in which the corsairs of the Barbary states joined hands with the

Turks. France only was exempt, its princes having made an alliance with

Turkey, in which they gained safety at the cost of honor.



Spain was the leading opponent of this devastating power. For centuries

the Spanish people had been engaged in a bitter crusade against the Moslem

forces. The conquest of Granada was followed by descents upon the African

coast, the most important of which was the conquest of Tunis by Charles

the Fifth in 1535, on which occasion ten thousand Christian captives were

set free from a dreadful bondage. An expedition against Tripoli in 1559,

however, ended in disaster, the Turks and the Moors continued triumphant

at sea, and it was not until 1571 that the proud Moslem powers received an

effectual check.



The great fleet of which Don John of Austria was admiral-in-chief had not

come solely from Spain. Genoa had furnished a large number of galleys,

under their famous admiral, Andrew Doria,--a name to make the Moslems

tremble. Venice had added its fleet, and the Papal States had sent a

strong contingent of ships. Italy had been suffering from the Turkish

fleet, fire and sword had turned the Venetian coasts into a smoking

desolation, and this was the answer of Christian Europe to the Turkish

menace.



The sight of the Turkish fleet on that memorable 7th of October created

instant animation in the Christian armament. Don John hoisted his pennon,

ordered the great standard of the league, given by the Pope, to be

unfurled, and fired a gun in defiance of the Turks. Some of the commanders

doubted the wisdom of engaging the enemy in a position where he had the

advantage, but the daring young commander curtly cut short the discussion.



"Gentlemen," he said, "this is the time for combat, not for counsel."



Steadily the two fleets approached each other on that quiet sea. The

Christian ships extended over a width of three miles. On the right was

Andrew Doria, with sixty-four galleys. The centre, consisting of

sixty-three galleys, was commanded by Don John, with Colonna, the

captain-general of the Pope, on one flank, and Veniero, the Venetian

captain-general, on the other. The left wing, commanded by the noble

Venetian Barbarigo, extended as near to the coast of AEtolia as it was

deemed safe to venture. The reserve, of thirty-five galleys, was under the

Marquis of Santa Cruz. The plan of battle was simple. Don John's orders to

his captains were for each to select an adversary, close with him at once,

and board as soon as possible.



As the fleet advanced the armament of the Turks came into full view,

spread out in half-moon shape over a wider space than that of the allies.

The great galleys, with their gilded and brightly painted prows and their

myriad of banners and pennons, presented a magnificent spectacle. But the

wind, which had thus far favored the Turks, now suddenly shifted and blew

in their faces, and the sun, as the day advanced, shone directly in their

eyes. The centre of their line was occupied by the huge galley of Ali

Pasha, their leader. Their right was commanded by Mahomet Sirocco, viceroy

of Egypt; their left by Uluch Ali, dey of Algiers, the most redoubtable of

the corsair lords of the sea.



The breeze continued light. It was nearly noon when the fleets came face

to face. The sun, now nearing the zenith, shone down from a cloudless sky.

As yet it seemed like some grand holiday spectacle rather than the coming

of a struggle for life or death.



Suddenly the shrill war-cry of the Turks rang out on the air. Their cannon

began to play. The firing ran along the line until the whole fleet was

engaged. On the Christian side the trumpets rang defiance and the guns

answered the Turkish peals. The galeazzas, a number of mammoth

war-ships, had been towed a half-mile in advance of the Spanish fleet, and

as the Turks came up poured broadsides from their heavy guns with striking

effect, doing considerable damage. But Ali Pasha, not caring to engage

these monster craft, opened his lines and passed them by. They had done

their work, and took no further part, being too unwieldy to enter into

close action.



The battle began on the left. Barbarigo, the Venetian admiral, had brought

his ships as near the coast as he dared. But Mahomet Sirocco knew the

waters better, passed between his ships and the shore, and doubled upon

him, bringing the Christian line between two fires. Barbarigo was wounded,

eight galleys were sent to the bottom, and several were captured. Yet the

Venetians, who hated the Turks with a mortal hatred, fought on with

unyielding fury.



Uluch Ali, on the Christian right, tried the same manoeuvre. But he had

Andrew Doria, the experienced Genoese, to deal with, and his purpose was

defeated by a wide extension of the Christian line. It was a trial of

skill between the two ablest commanders on the Mediterranean. Doria, by

stretching out his line, had weakened his centre, and the corsair captain,

with alert decision, fell upon some galleys separated from their

companions, sinking several, and carrying off the great Capitana of Malta

as a prize.



Thus both on the right and on the left the Christians had the worst of it.

The severest struggle was in the centre. Here were the flag-ships of the

commanders,--the Real, Don John's vessel, flying the holy banner of the

League; Ali Pasha displaying the great Ottoman standard, covered with

texts from the Koran in letters of gold, and having the name of Allah

written upon it many thousands of times.



Both the commanders, young and ardent, burned with desire to meet in mid

battle. The rowers urged forward their vessels with an energy that sent

them ahead of the rest of their lines, driving them through the foaming

water with such force that the pasha's galley, much the larger and loftier

of the two, was hurled upon its opponent until its prow reached the fourth

bench of rowers. Both vessels groaned and quivered to their very keels

with the shock.



As soon as the vessels could be disengaged the combat began, the pasha

opening with a fierce fire of cannon and musketry, which was returned with

equal fury and more effect. The Spanish gunners and musketeers were

protected by high defences, and much of the Turkish fire went over their

heads, while their missiles, poured into the unprotected and crowded crews

of Ali's flag-ship, caused terrible loss. But the Turks had much the

advantage in numbers, and both sides fought with a courage that made the

result a matter of doubt.



The flag-ships were not long left alone. Other vessels quickly gathered

round them, and the combat spread fiercely to both sides. The new-comers

attacked one another and assailed at every opportunity the two central

ships. But the latter, beating off their assailants, clung together with

unyielding pertinacity, as if upon them depended the whole issue of the

fight.



The complete width of the entrance to the bay of Lepanto was now a scene

of mortal combat, though the vessels were so lost under a pall of smoke

that none of the combatants could see far to the right or left. The lines,

indeed, were broken up into small detachments, each fighting the

antagonists in its front, without regard to what was going on elsewhere.

The battle was in no sense a grand whole, but a series of separate combats

in which the galleys grappled and the soldiers and sailors boarded and

fought hand to hand. The slaughter was frightful. In the case of some

vessels, it is said, every man on board was killed or wounded, while the

blood that flowed from the decks stained the waters of the gulf red for

miles.



The left wing of the allies, as has been said, was worsted at the

beginning of the fight, its commander receiving a wound which proved

mortal. But the Venetians fought on with the courage of despair. In the

end they drove back their adversaries and themselves became the

assailants, taking vessel after vessel from the foe. The vessel of Mahomet

Sirocco was sunk, and he was slain after escaping death by drowning. His

death ended the resistance of his followers. They turned to fly, many of

the vessels being run ashore and abandoned and their crews largely

perishing in the water.



While victory in this quarter perched on the Christian banners, the mortal

struggle in the centre went on. The flag-ships still clung together, an

incessant fire of artillery and musketry sweeping both decks. The

Spaniards proved much the better marksmen, but the greater numbers of the

Turks, and reinforcements received from an accompanying vessel, balanced

this advantage. Twice the Spaniards tried to board and were driven back. A

third effort was more successful, and the deck of the Turkish galley was

reached. The two commanders cheered on their men, exposing themselves to

danger as freely as the meanest soldier. Don John received a wound in the

foot,--fortunately a slight one. Ali Pasha led his janizaries boldly

against the boarders, but as he did so he was struck in the head by a

musket-ball and fell. The loss of his inspiring voice discouraged his men.

For a time they continued to struggle, but, borne back by their impetuous

assailants, they threw down their arms and asked for quarter.



The deck was covered with the bodies of the dead and wounded. From beneath

them the body of Ali was drawn, severely, perhaps mortally, wounded. His

rescuers would have killed him on the spot, but he diverted them by

pointing out where his money and jewels could be found. The next soldier

to come up was one of the galley-slaves, whom Don John had unchained from

the oar and supplied with arms. Ali's story of treasure was lost on him.

With one blow he severed his head from his shoulders, and carried the gory

prize to Don John, laying it at his feet. The generous Spaniard looked at

it with a mingling of pity and horror.



"Of what use can such a present be to me?" he coldly asked the slave, who

looked for some rich reward; "throw it into the sea."



This was not done. The head was stuck on a pike and raised aloft on the

captured galley. At the same time the great Ottoman banner was drawn down,

while that of the Cross was elevated with cheers of triumph in its place.



The shouts of "victory!" the sight of the Christian standard at the

mast-head of Ali's ship, the news of his death, which spread from ship to

ship, gave new courage to the allies and robbed the Turks of spirit. They

fought on, but more feebly. Many of their vessels were boarded and taken.

Others were sunk. After four hours of fighting the resistance of the

Turkish centre was at an end.



On the right, as related, Andrew Doria had suffered a severe loss by

stretching his line too far. He would have suffered still more had not the

reserve under Santa Cruz, which had already given aid to Don John, come to

his relief. Strengthened by Cardona with the Sicilian squadron, he fell on

the Algerine galleys with such fierceness that they were forced to recoil.

In their retreat they were hotly assailed by Doria, and Uluch, beset on

all sides, was obliged to abandon his prizes and take to flight. Tidings

now came to him of the defeat of the centre and the death of Ali, and,

hoisting signals for retreat, he stood in all haste to the north, followed

by the galleys of his fleet.



With all sail spread and all its oarsmen vigorously at work, the corsair

fleet sped rapidly away, followed by Doria and Santa Cruz. Don John joined

in the pursuit, hoping to intercept the fugitives in front of a rocky

headland which stretched far into the sea. But the skilled Algerine leader

weathered this peril, losing a few vessels on the rocks, the remainder,

nearly forty in number, bearing boldly onward. Soon they distanced their

pursuers, many of whose oarsmen had taken part and been wounded in the

fight. Before nightfall the Algerines were vanishing below the horizon.



There being signs of a coming storm, Don John hastened to seek a harbor of

refuge, setting fire to such vessels as were damaged beyond usefulness,

and with the remainder of his prizes making all haste to the neighboring

port of Petala, the best harbor within reach.



The loss of the Turks had been immense, probably not less than twenty-five

thousand being killed and five thousand taken prisoners. To Don John's

prizes may be added twelve thousand Christian captives, chained to the

oars by the Turks, who now came forth, with tears of joy, to bless their

deliverers. The allies had lost no more than eight thousand men. This

discrepancy was largely due to their use of fire-arms, while many of the

Turks fought with bows and arrows. Only the forty Algerine ships escaped;

one hundred and thirty vessels were taken. The Christian loss was but

fifteen galleys. The spoils were large and valuable, consisting in great

measure of gold, jewels, and rich brocades.



Of the noble cavaliers who took part in the fight, we shall speak only of

Alexander Farnese, Prince of Parma, a nephew of Don John, whom he was

destined to succeed in military renown. He began here his career with a

display of courage and daring unsurpassed on the fleet. Among the

combatants was a common soldier, Cervantes by name, whose future glory was

to throw into the shade that of all the leaders in the fight. Though

confined to bed with a fever on the morning of the battle, he insisted on

taking part, and his courage in the affray was shown by two wounds on his

breast and a third in his hand which disabled it for life. Fortunately it

was the left hand. The right remained to write the immortal story of Don

Quixote de la Mancha.



Thus ended one of the greatest naval battles of modern times. No important

political effect came from it, but it yielded an immense moral result. It

had been the opinion of Europe that the Turks were invincible at sea. This

victory dispelled that theory, gave new heart to Christendom, and so

dispirited the Turks that in the next year they dared not meet the

Christians at sea, though they were commanded by the daring dey of

Algiers. The beginning of the decline of the Ottoman empire may be said to

date from the battle of Lepanto.