Of all of the heroes of Christendom often left unsung, Don John of Austria is one of the most puzzling. Indeed, many details surrounding his life, many that he noted personally, are generally well-known, yet when one mentions his name, it is often met with ignorance.
In all fairness, he was born into obscurity.
The bastard son of Emperor Charles V, whose empire was the first upon which “the sun never set,” Don John would spend his early years as a page in the service of Luis de Quijiada in Valladolid, Spain. The dying Emperor would request that de Quijiada and his household, Don John included, relocate near the monastery of Yuste, where the Emperor would spend the last years of his life in prayer and penance. It is here that Don John, still unaware of the familial bond between them, would meet Charles V on several occasions.
After the death of Charles V in 1558, Don John’s life would change irrevocably. He would meet his half-sister, Joanna, Dowager Princess of Portugal, in Valladolid, and later his half-brother, Philip II of Spain (the very same Philip who, years later, would send the Spanish Armada to do battle against Elizabeth’s England). Upon their meeting, Philip declared that they were brothers, through their mutual father in Emperor Charles, and Don John was to be recognized as a Hapsburg (the royal dynasty of Charles V). While he would continue to live in de Quijada’s household, Don John was no longer to serve de Quijada, but vice versa. He would be educated as a prince, having his nephews Prince Carlos and Alessandro Farnese as his peers at the University of Alcala de Henares, and would be allotted all the graces and privileges of his station in the Spanish Court.
When the Siege of Malta began in 1565, seeing 500 knights Hospitaller and 5,000 Maltese do battle against 20,000 of the finest Ottoman troops, Don John begged his half-brother for permission to join the besieged Christians. His request being denied, he endeavored in vain to stow away on a ship bound for the island, only to arrive too late to join the Spanish relief force. His eagerness to prove himself would not go unnoticed by Philip, and he would be tasked with putting down the rebellion of the Alpujaras, the last of the morisco revolts in Spain. Don John would prove himself as promising a strategist as he was an academic, successfully putting down the revolt and cementing royal control of Granada.
While Don John proved his martial prowess in Spain, the situation in the Mediterranean continued to deteriorate for the Christian powers. While the Ottoman Turks had been beaten at Malta (which itself boasts many an unsung hero), their fleets would continue to dominate the waters of the Mediterranean, with little effective resistance from the Christians. The loss of Venetian-held Cyprus in 1570 would alert many of the major powers of the gravity of the situation. With Cyprus now in Ottoman hands, there was little standing in the way of an Ottoman invasion of Southern Italy, and the Sultan made no secret of his desire to raise the crescent over the dome of St. Peter’s. In response to this blow, Pope St. Pius V called for a Holy League to unite the Christian powers against the Muslim threat.
Philip II of Spain signaled that he would answer the call, but with one stipulation: Don John of Austria was to be made commander of the Holy League.
Don John, who up to this point was little more than a freshly-minted general in King Philip’s army, would now be thrust into the most important military position in Christendom. Not only would he have to bring together the forces of Spain, the fleets of the rival mercantile cities of Venice and Genoa, and the contingents of the Papal States, Knights Hospitaller, and the various other Christian forces under one banner and command, but also he would also have to marshal them effectively against the premier navy of the Mediterranean, who boasted superior numbers and more experienced sailors than the Holy League. Failure would mean the exposure of Rome to invasion, and the expansion of Muslim rule to Western Europe. This Augean task could only be allowed to result in victory, and it was left to Don John to see that it did.
With the fleet assembled in the autumn of 1571, Don John sailed out to meet the enemy in battle. The fleet amassed by the Holy League was the largest Christian fleet in living memory, 206 galleys and 6 galleasses (Venetian heavy warships, the equivalent of a dreadnaught in firepower and speed for the time), with 65,000 Christian souls aboard them, 35,000 soldiers and 30,000 sailors respectively. Discord amongst the various groups that made up the fleet broke out almost immediately, particularly between the Venetians and the Spaniards. These petty squabbles, however, would soon be forgotten, as while sailing for the Gulf of Patras (near Greece), the crescents of the Ottoman fleet were sighted.
The battle prepared for the Christians seemed an unwinnable one. While the Ottomans had been caught unawares, they possessed a significant numerical advantage, numbering over 300 vessels and 67,000 men, 37,000 of which were soldiers (including the feared Janissary corps, elite crack troops of the Ottoman Empire). The Ottomans also enjoyed the wind in their sails, allowing their sailors (those who weren’t Christian slaves, anyway) to join the soldiers in combat, further putting the Christians at a disadvantage. The Ottoman ships were also far nimbler than the Christian galleon, allowing them to further utilize their advantages in number and wind. Despite these disadvantages, Don John settled to do battle with the enemy.
On the morning of October 7th, Don John would sail a schooner amidst his fleet, exhorting his men to courage in the face of the Turk. Holy Mass was offered on every ship, general absolution given, and rosaries said by soldier and sailor alike. A replica of the Tilma of Guadalupe, sent by the Archbishop of Mexico City, was hung from the main mast of Don John’s flagship, El Real, and the banner of the Holy League, blessed by Pius V himself, was flown from the truck of the ship. Don John would order the fleet to be assembled into a cross formation, the heavy Venetian galleasses in the vanguard, the Genoese forces on the left flank, the Venetian and Hospitaller forces on the right flank, Don John and the bulk of the Christian fleet in the center, and a Spanish reserve in the rear. Facing him was the Ottoman fleet, arrayed in their traditional attack formation of the crescent. Around noon, the cross and the crescent would quite literally clash in the bay of Lepanto, and the fate of this engagement would seal the fate of Christendom.
The wind, by this point, still blew in favor of the Turks, whose prayers and shrill war cries could be heard even by the rearguard of the Christian forces. Despite this, Don John could be seen doing a jig on the poop deck of El Real, eagerly anticipating his chance to do battle with the Mohammedans. Just as the Ottoman fleet was about to engage the Holy League, however, the wind miraculously shifted in the Christians’ favor. The Ottoman ships, which had been moving at full sail towards Don John’s fleet, were stopped in their tracks, their crews frantically setting out their oars in a doomed attempt to maintain momentum. Don John saw this as nothing less than Divine Providence, and ordered that the oarsmen of every vessel be armed and sails dropped to full canvas. The Christian fleet, bolstered by the wind and now increased fighting strength, hurtled themselves toward the Ottoman fleet.
The fighting was uniquely brutal.
The ships of the two fleets, especially on the left flank, would become so intertwined so as to provide an almost contiguous platform of hand to hand combat. In the center, Ali Pasha, the commander of the Ottoman fleet, drove his flagship headlong into El Real, resulting in an hours long melee between the elite Spanish Tercios of Don John and the Janissaries of the Ottoman Admiral. The Venetian commander, hoping to preserve his vessels from the heaviest of the fighting, opened a gap between the right and the center of the Christian lines, which the Ottomans would exploit almost immediately. The Knights Hospitaller, with their scant 3 galleys, would try in vain to plug up the hole in the line, only to see their ships beset on all sides by Ottoman vessels. But — even as the fighting was thickest, and the Christian forces about to break — the guns of the Holy League roared with determination. The cannons of the Venetian galleasses ripped through the smaller and lighter Turkish ships, and the Christians would find much needed allies in the Christian galley slaves used almost ubiquitously by the Turks. The forces of the Holy League would free and arm these men, who gladly joined the fight against their former masters, turning the tide of battle decidedly in favor of the Christians. Just as the Christian forces on El Real were about to be overrun, Prince Marcantonio Colonna, commander of the Papal forces at the battle, moved his ship to assist Don John. With Colonna’s relief effort, the deck of El Real was retaken, and the Christians boarded and secured the Ottoman flagship, killing Ali Pasha in the fray. The Ottoman banner was struck, and the Holy League colors were run up on the Muslim flagship, met with cheers from across the Christian fleet.
By late afternoon, the battle was won.
Isolated fighting would continue through the evening. Many a retreating Turkish ship would be seized by the enslaved Christians, who would turn over the ships to the Holy League. Several Christian ships, believed lost, were reclaimed, including the flagship of the Knights Hospitaller. The Grand Master of the Order, who had so valiantly led his ships to almost certain doom to hold the Christian line, was found dying amidst the piles of corpses both Christian and Muslim on the deck of his ship, his colors struck and stolen by the retreating Turks. Amongst the other ships would be found one Miguel Cervantes, who had lost a hand during the course of the day’s fighting. What was clear was that the Christians had not only won at Lepanto, but handily so. A whopping 113 Ottoman galleys were captured by the Christians, with a further 90 destroyed, completely shattering the Ottoman fleet. Of the original 300 Ottoman ships, only a scant 90 returned to Istanbul. Ottoman casualties were similarly high, with around 30,000 killed or captured. The Christians, in comparison, lost only 13 ships, and 7,500 dead, wounded, or captured. In addition, over 12,000 Christian slaves were liberated by the Holy League.
That very evening, Pius V, who was in conference with his cardinals, exclaimed, “A truce to business; our great task at present is to thank God for the victory which He has just given to the Christian army.” He would burst into tears of joy upon hearing the news confirmed. The bells of all Christendom, Catholic and Protestant, rang out in jubilation at news of the victory. Mixed with this thanksgiving for Christendom’s deliverance was praise for Don John. It was rumored he would soon lead a conquest of Algiers, retaking that ancient Roman province for the faith once more, then lead a crusade to retake Jerusalem. Others said he would wed Mary, Queen of Scots, and strike down the heretic Elizabeth from her throne, and reign over a renewed Catholic Britain.
In truth, none of these would come to pass.
Don John had served his purpose upon this Earth and would be called back to his Master in short order. While putting down Protestant revolts in Holland on behalf of Philip II, Don John would contract fever and die on St. Remigius’ Day, October 1st, 1578, at the ripe age of 31. He would leave this world in much the same way as he entered it, in an unassuming and inconspicuous manner. He was not surrounded by the fineries of the Spanish court, nor attended by Cardinals or men of power. Instead, he breathed his last in a worn tent in a muddy Dutch field, surrounded by his men and their chaplain. Once he had died, one of these soldiers, so the legend goes, said to his comrades that “his soul did not linger, but went straight to God.” Indeed, this is very reflective of Don John the man. All of his talents and skills, his multitude of services, all were outshined by his piety. His undying faith was planted before he was thrown into the limelight, and would remain with him as he sank from it. Perhaps it is fitting that Don John of Austria is an unsung hero, not due to any lack of merit on his part, but due to Him that Don John ultimately served, and Who indeed we all serve.
SOLI DEO GLORIA
