The Arc of History: A Blog

On February 2, 1943, the German 6^th Army surrendered at the battle of Stalingrad bringing an end to the five-month long battle that would ultimately prove to be the turning point of the war. The Wehrmacht would advance no further east and after Stalingrad would find itself on the defensive all the way up to the fall of Berlin in May 1945. Germany’s defeat shattered its military reputation for invincibility and dealt a devastating blow to German morale. Conversely, victory at Stalingrad bolstered the morale of the Red Army which had been on its heels for the better part of almost two years as well as confidence in the Soviet leadership. More Soviet soldiers died in this five-month contest than Americans died in the entire war.

Hitler’s June 21, 1941 invasion of the Soviet Union, codenamed Operation Barbarossa, came as a shock to Soviet leader Josef Stalin, in particular the lightening like advance of the Wehrmacht as it drove deep into Soviet territory encircling entire army groups and major cities that were ill-prepared for the Nazi attack. Stalin had been warned of an expected German attack on the Soviet Union but refused to believe the information. 

On May 12, 1941, Richard Sorge, a Soviet military intelligence operative working undercover in Tokyo learned from his sources inside the German embassy that 170 German divisions would attack all across the Soviet frontier on June 20. He relayed the information back to Moscow but Stalin refused to believe and questioned its accuracy. The two dictators had agreed to a non-aggression pact in August of 1939. Stalin harbored no illusions that Germany would eventually attack the USSR. However, Stalin believed that a German attack was at least a year off, that the Nazis were still dependent on the Soviet Union for war-making natural resources, and that Sorge’s information was a British deception intended to drag Moscow into the war against Hitler.

The German attack was a complete success. Major cities like Kyiv and Minsk had fallen to the Nazis with ease and by the first week of December the Wehrmacht was only 30 kilometers from the gates of Moscow. However, as the weather became bitterly cold, the German offensive ground to a halt, and was pushed back 200 km by a determined Soviet counteroffensive. The full onset of winter, one of the coldest and most brutal on record, prohibited any further offensive operations.

In May 1942, the Nazis resumed the offensive but turned their focus of attention south toward the Caucasian oil fields and the city of Stalingrad. Stalingrad was a large industrial city that was critical to the Soviet war effort while the seizure of the oil fields would deprive the Soviets of critical resources. Hitler also attached enormous symbolic and propaganda importance to the city that bore Stalin’s name, believing that it’s capture would deal a huge psychological blow to the Soviet war effort.  

The initial German attack in the south went well. The Red Army had been caught off guard once again expecting a renewed German push to take Moscow. Within two weeks the industrial city of Kharkhiv had fallen and the Wehrmacht advanced more than 300 miles.  By early August, the Sixth Army under General Friedrich von Paulus began to advance towards the city of Stalingrad. By August 23 the Germans were in the suburbs, where fighting turned ferocious. Bombed into rubble by German aircraft and artillery, the city became a vast landscape of rubble and burnt ruins, impassable to tanks and an ideal terrain for defenders as the outnumbered Soviet armies fell back into the city. 

By September both the Germans and Soviets were rushing reinforcements to the city as the battle gradually descended into grim hand to hand fighting and small unit actions. Stalin gathered all available troops to the east bank of the Volga, some from as far away as Siberia. However, the Soviets could only reinforce and resupply their forces by dangerous crossings of the Volga river which came under constant attack from German dive bombers and artillery. Inside the city discipline and morale within the Red Army was rapidly disintegrating. Under pressure from above, the commander of Soviet forces in the city, General Vasily Chuikov, resorted to extreme and desperate measures to restore order and discipline. Officers, commissars, and enlisted men were shot on sight for cowardice. 

In late September, the Germans held most of Stalingrad and the Red Army was pushed back to within a few hundred meters of the west bank of the Volga river but continued to tenaciously hold its ground. As Chuikov’s 62^nd Army fought desperately to maintain its toeholds, Red Army generals Georgy Zhukov and Aleksandr Vasilevsky began to see an opportunity. The Germans, for all of their apparent might, were overextended. In many spots to the north and south of the city, the German lines were being held by inferior Romanian, Hungarian or Italian units, lacking adequate anti-armor capabilities.

The Soviet High Command had begun planning for a massive counterattack code named Operation Uranus. The plan called for two massive mechanized drives launched from the north and the south of the city, with the goal of cutting through the units protecting the German flanks and linking up, effectively surrounding the German Sixth Army in the city and cutting it off from its supply lines. Zhukov had quietly redirected large amounts of reinforcement and supplies to the flanks unnoticed that were originally intended for Chuikov’s 62^nd Army. For roughly a month and a half, Chuikov’s men fought desperately against the German onslaught enduring constant attacks from German aircraft and artillery. Places like the Stalingrad Tractor Factory and the Red October Steel Factory would become the scenes of brutal small unit fighting that would be memorialized as places of great honor and tragedy.

On November 19 the Soviet’s launched their counter attack striking the Romanian 3^rd Army in the North, which crumbled in the face of a massive Soviet armor attack.  The next morning the Soviets attacked the Romanian 4^th Army, south of Stalingrad. In a replay of the previous day’s events, the Romanians were routed. Von Paulus, the commander of the German 6^th Army, quickly understood what the Soviets were trying to achieve and the gravity of the situation. He contemplated a retreat to escape before the Soviet trap completely closed but was ordered by Hitler to stand his ground at all cost. Herman Goering, head of the German air force, vowed that his vaunted Luftwaffe would be able to resupply the 6^th Army.

Two days later, both pincers of the Soviet counterattack would link up, cutting off the Sixth Army from the rest of the Wehrmacht. Operation Uranus had worked perfectly, the 6^th Army was completely encircled. A week earlier, the Germans believed they were on the verge of a glorious victory, mopping up the last pockets of a dying resistance.  Now the entire tide of the battle had changed. They were the ones trapped and on the verge of defeat. 

Hitler’s priority now shifted to breaking the encirclement and rescuing the 200,000 plus German soldiers and their allies trapped by the Red Army.  Field Marshal Erich von Manstein, one of Germany’s most able commanders, was directed to plan and lead an operation to break through to the beleaguered 6^th Army. On December 12, Manstein initiated Operation Winter Tempest. After some initial success, the German attack ran out of steam and by the end of December was beaten back. With hopes of a break out fading and Luftwaffe resupply flights having ceased, prospects for the survival of the men of the 6^th Army became increasingly bleak. 

As conditions deteriorated further, Hitler ordered his men to fight to the death. On January 30, Hitler promoted Von Paulus to the rank of field marshal. It was his fervent hope was that Von Paulus not allow himself to be taken alive since no German field marshal had ever surrendered. Instead, von Paulus and his staff surrendered on January 31, along with 90,000 troops still under his command. On February 2 the remainder of the 6th Army capitulated bringing to an end the saga of Stalingrad.

On January 17, 1781, a combined force of Continental Regulars, dragoons, and militia, under General Daniel Morgan decisively defeated a British Army at the crucial Battle of Cowpens in the backcountry of South Carolina. It was a decisive victory that would boost American morale after the British capture of Charleston and the disastrous defeat at the battle of Camden. It also put in motion a series of events that would push the Redcoats northward culminating in their final defeat at Yorktown and the establishment of American independence.

The British Move South

After their crushing defeat at Saratoga in 1777 and the entry of the French into the war, the British faced the unsavory prospect of becoming bogged down in an increasingly costly war. To hasten a favorable end to the conflict, the British redirected their focus to the southern colonies. The rebellion was always the strongest in the New England and Mid-Atlantic colonies and the British Secretary of State for the American Department, Lord George Germain, believed that Great Britain could expand the war into the south with greater success and less cost by taking advantage of the large number of loyalists there.

In December 1778, the British seized Savannah, Georgia and eight months later repulsed a combined Franco-American effort to retake the city. After re-asserting their authority over Georgia, the British turned their attention to South Carolina. In May 1780, the British captured Charleston and 5,000 American soldiers after a six week siege. Seeking to roll back British gains, the Continental Congress dispatched General Horatio Gates, “the hero of Saratoga,” to command the remaining American military forces in the South, against the recommendation of General George Washington. Gates suffered a humiliating defeat in August at the battle of Camden, where he rapidly fled from the battlefield, leaving his subordinates behind to be taken prisoner.

The British did indeed find strong support from loyalists in the cities and population centers of South Carolina like Charleston and Georgetown but they didn’t anticipate the strong resistance they encountered in the backcountry. In the wake of Gates’ defeat at Camden, irregular bands of militia fighters under men like Francis Marion, Thomas Sumter and Andrew Pickens emerged, engaging in hit and run tactics against loyalist and British military forces. In October 1780, General Washington appointed his most capable subordinate General Nathanael Greene, to replace Gates. Greene inherited what for all intents and purposes was a skeleton army and quickly set about trying to replenish its ranks. He placed key men as leaders in several states to secure supplies of all kinds and new recruits. He finally arrived in North Carolina to take command of his hastily formed army in December 1780.

War in the Backcountry

Greene made a bold decision to divide his small army into two.  He sent a combined force of 300 Continental regulars and 700 militia under General Daniel Morgan to the western part of South Carolina where a brutal civil war was being fought between patriot and loyalist militias. Morgan, a brilliant tactician was tasked with hampering British operations in the backcountry and to bolster patriot morale. Believing that Morgan’s army was planning to attack the strategically important Fort Ninety Six, held by loyalist forces, British commander General Cornwallis sent the brash and despised cavalryman, Lieutenant Colonel Banastre Tarleton and his 1,100 Dragoons to destroy Morgan. Tarleton and his men were widely reviled. Shortly after the fall of Charleston, Tarleton and his men allegedly butchered a contingent of American soldiers under Colonel Abraham Buford who were trying to surrender at the Battle of Waxhaws. The incident would become known as “Bufford’s Massacre” and the subject of an intensive propaganda campaign by the Continental Army to bolster recruitment and incite resentment against the British.

British advance scouts located Morgan’s army on January 12, 1781 and Tarleton’s Dragoons doggedly hunted down the Americans. Morgan, ever the shrewd commander, continued to dodge a major engagement with the British until he could find favorable ground. On January 16, Morgan decided to make a stand at the Cowpens, a well-known crossroads and frontier pasturing ground.

Aware that the British were closing in, Morgan anticipated that Tarleton would conduct a frontal assault on his army the following day and proceeded to set a trap for the overly aggressive cavalry commander. He carefully positioned his forces into three progressively stronger defensive lines. The first consisted of select sharpshooters from Georgia and the Carolinas. Militia under Andrew Pickens constituted the second line. Continental Regulars from Maryland and Delaware made up the third and final line. That evening, Morgan explained the plan to his men. He wanted the militia to fire two shots before retreating and reforming behind the regulars. Morgan hoped his first two lines would slow and deplete Tarleton’s advance before his Contintenals dealt the decisive blow, a double envelopment.

Morgan Springs his Trap

The following day the battle went very much as Morgan had planned. Just before sunrise, Tarleton’s advance guard emerged from the woods in front of the American position and, as expected, he ordered the small group of Dragoons to drive the American skirmishers back. Shielded by trees and other natural obstacles, the American sharpshooters picked off a number of Tarleton’s Dragoons forcing them to retreat. Upping the ante, Tarleton deployed his infantry forward to clear out the skirmishers , who then fell back and joined the second line of militia as planned. The infantry pressed forward and ran into Morgan’s second line consisting of Andrew Pickens’ militia. From there, the Americans, delivered two deadly volleys, thinning the British ranks, before retreating.

After driving back two successive lines of militia, Tarleton believed the Americans to be in full retreat. In the hope of delivering a coup de grace, Tarleton sent forward the 17th Dragoons in a mounted charge. Watching the cavalry advance, Morgan ordered his own dragoons, under Lt. Col. William Washington to meet the attack. Washington and his men charged forward and beat back the British horsemen.

Tarleton finally committed his reserves and sent the 71st Highlanders forward. Instead of facing more militia, they encountered a third and final line composed of Continental Regulars from Maryland and Delaware, who were some of the best trained and most disciplined soldiers in the entire Continental Army. They unleashed a powerful volley which brought the enemy advance to a grinding halt. Morgan subsequently launched a counterattack. In a double envelopment, the Continentals slammed in Tarleton’s center with bayonets while Pickens’ militia and Washington’s horsemen struck the British flanks simultaneously. Tarleton’s line crumbled and what was left of his command fled from the field. The battle was over in less than an hour. It was a complete victory for the Americans. British losses were staggering: 110 dead, over 200 wounded and 500 captured. Morgan lost only 12 killed and 60 wounded.

Aftermath

The Battle of Cowpens proved to be a turning point in the War for Independence in the south, one that would eventually lead to Cornwallis’ surrender ten months later at Yorktown. In the months following the battle, Greene and Cornwallis’ armies clashed in a number of battles in which the Americans were driven from the field but only at great cost to the British. Greene best summed up this dynamic declaring, “We fight, get beat, rise, and fight again.”  Greene’s strategy of “bleeding” the British would culminate in the Battle of Guilford Courthouse where Cornwallis was victorious but only at the expense of one-third of his force and some of his best officers. Watching his army wither away, Cornwallis opted to withdraw to his supply base at Wilmington to rest and refit. With his army still not in a condition to engage Greene by the middle of April, Cornwallis decided to shift his operations and began moving north to Virginia, a decision that would eventually lead to his demise at Yorktown.

There are so many images that have emerged from last week’s insurrection at the Capitol that are distasteful, un-American, and just downright frightening. One image, in particular, continues to haunt me and has burned a lasting picture in my mind. That image is this picture. A Confederate Flag being paraded around the Capitol more than 160 after the Civil War ended with the defeat of the Confederacy.

The mere presence of the Confederate flag in the hallowed halls of the Capitol alone is an abomination.  The context  of its appearance, as part of a violent attack, is a mockery of the 365,000 dead Union soldiers, let alone the hundred of thousands that were maimed and injured, who sacrificed their lives to ensure that the Confederacy would never triumph.  If you live in Virginia, as I do, is hard no to be cognizant of those facts. The hundred or so miles separating Washington DC and Richmond is some of the bloodiest terrain in our country. Places like Fredericksburg, the Wilderness, and Cold Harbor are a forever reminder of the human cost that have been made in order to save what President Lincoln called the last  best hope on earth.

At the same time, there is something else so disturbing in this picture. A story that is not immediately observable to the casual eye but one that a friend of mine astutely pointed out. The picture in the background is a portrait of Massachusetts Senator Charles Sumner. In May 1856, Sumner was beaten within an inch of his life with a cane by Congressman Preston Brooks of South Carolina after he delivered a stinging anti-slavery speech on the floor of the Senate.

Sumner was the junior Senator from the Bay State and a strong abolitionist Republican. He fancied himself as a great orator along the lines of Cicero but for many, even within the Republican Party, he was a bit of a blowhard. In May 1856, the country was being torn apart over the issue of extending slavery and the Kansas territory had become ground zero.  The Kansas-Nebraska Act, which was passed  two years earlier, stipulated that the people of the two territories themselves should decide whether to enter the Union as a free or slave state, effectively repealing the Missouri Compromise of 1820. Abolitionist settlers and pro-slavery Border Ruffians from neighboring Missouri pored into the state fueling a low grade civil war.

A day after pro-slavery partisans sacked the abolitionist stronghold of Lawrence Kansas, Sumner gave a speech on the floor of the Senate entitled “Crimes Against Kansas,” in which he identified two main culprits Senator Stephen Douglass of Illinois and Senator Andrew Butler of South Carolina. Sumner attacked both men but reserved his sharpest and most insulting commentary for Butler.  Mocking the South Carolina senator’s stance as a man of chivalry, the Massachusetts senator charged him with taking “a mistress . . . who, though ugly to others, is always lovely to him; though polluted in the sight of the world, is chaste in his sight—I mean,” added Sumner, “the harlot, Slavery.” 

Butler, who was an older man 60 years of age, was not present when Sumner made his remarks. However, his younger kinsman, Congressman Preston Brooks heard the remarks and was outraged. Brooks contemplated challenging Sumner to a duel to defend the honor of his relative but instead chose a more insidious option.  Shortly after the Senate had adjourned for the day, Brooks entered the Senate chamber, where Sumner quietly was working and proceeded to smash Sumner over the head repeatedly with his metal topped cane. Sumner rose and futilely tried to protect himself before collapsing to the floor. Bleeding profusely, Sumner was carried away.  Brooks walked calmly out of the chamber without being detained by the stunned onlookers.

When word spread of Brooks’ heinous act, he was hailed as a hero by his constituents who mailed him walking sticks to replace the cane he broke attacking Sumner. Brooks  escaped any accountability for his actions. He survived a House censure resolution and even though he resigned he was immediately re-elected. Sumner recovered slowly and returned to the Senate, where he served another 18 years but his health was never quite the same. 

As I look at this picture of the Confederate flag with Sumner’s portrait in the background I am reminded that there must be accountability for last week’s violence and the perpetrators who despoiled the hallowed halls of the Capitol must not be allowed to become heroes and celebrities.  Somewhere, Charles Sumner is rolling in his grave!

In the cold night air of December 25, 1776, General George Washington and his rag tag Continental Army crossed the icy Delaware River and surprised 1500 of King George’s Hessian mercenaries at Trenton, scoring a much needed victory after a string of disastrous defeats earlier in the year.

By the end of 1776, the Continental Army was in bad straits. The year began with great promise. In March, the Continentals drove the British out of Boston and on July 4, the thirteen colonies declared their independence. However, a series of disastrous defeats in and around New York City forced Washington to flee the city and retreat all across New Jersey to Pennsylvania, putting the whole revolution in doubt. Moreover, the enlistments of many of the Continental soldiers were set to expire at the end of the year. Washington needed a bold move to keep his Amy together and restore faith and confidence in the revolutionary enterprise.

After much contemplation and consideration of alternatives, Washington decided he would cross the Delaware River and carry out a surprise attack on the Hessian garrison at Trenton while they were celebrating Christmas. Washington’s plan required the crossing to begin as soon as it was dark enough to hide his army’s movements on the river. However, most of the troops did not reach the crossing point until about 6 pm, about ninety minutes after sunset, putting the operation behind schedule. Moreover, the weather was growing progressively worse, turning from drizzle to rain to sleet and snow.

Washington was among the first of the troops to cross, going with Virginia troops. During the crossing, several men fell overboard but no one died. By 3 am all of his forces and artillery—2400 men in all— were across the river in New Jersey. Around 4 am Washington’s Army began their March toward Trenton. Many of the troops did not have boots and wore rags around their feet in the snow but Washington rode up and down the column urging his men to persevere.

Behind schedule because of the storm, the Americans arrived on the outskirts of Trenton around daybreak on the 26th. Washington split his force into two columns. One, commanded by Nathaniel Greene attacked from the north, while a second under John Sullivan advanced from the west to cut the line of retreat. The Hessians were completely surprised. They attempted to rally but their commander Colonel Johan Rall was fatally wounded and they quickly surrendered. Hessian casualties included 22 killed, 92 wounded, 918 captured. Four hundred would manage to escape. The Americans suffered two frozen to death and five wounded.

Washington had won a much needed victory. The army that the British thought was all but defeated had destroyed a major garrison with very light casualties, capturing critical supplies in the process. Recognizing he could not hold Trenton, Washington slipped back across the river to Pennsylvania. However, over the next ten days Washington would cross and recross the Delaware again fighting a delaying action at the Battle of the Assunpink and winning another stunning victory at the Battle of Princeton before settling down for winter at Morristown.

Throughout the 16th and 17th centuries the Ottoman Turks terrified European Christendom on both the land and on the sea. The  Turkish conquest of Constantinople in 1453 marked the collapse of the Byzantine Empire  and opened the gates of Europe to the Ottoman scourge. The refusal of Western Christendom to come to the assistance of their Eastern brethren also revealed the vulnerability of a Europe beset by religious conflict. Fast forward more than a 100 years later and Christian Europe—now divided between Catholics and Protestants—once again faced an existential threat from the Ottoman Turks but this time from the high seas. On October 7, 1571, an assembly of Catholic nations and city states, known as the Holy League, defeated the Ottoman navy in epic fashion off the coast of Southwestern Greece in the battle of Lepanto. The battle of Lepanto is the largest naval battle of the Renaissance involving over 500 ships. It is also the last major naval engagement fought primarily between rowing vessels.

The Growing Ottoman Menace

After the fall of Constantinople, the Ottoman Empire steadily increased its holdings across the Mediterranean and Southeastern Europe. By the mid-16th century,  the Ottomans had expanded as far North as Budapest. Europeans were too distracted by conflict amongst themselves to rally and blunt the Ottoman advance. The Ottomans also pioneered advances, in shipbuilding, gunnery, and naval tactics, emerging as the dominant naval power in the Mediterranean by this time. The Ottomans controlled lucrative trade routes in he Mediterranean Sea and Turkish galleys roamed the sea with impunity. Raiding parties routinely landed along the coast of Spain, France, and Italy for the purpose of capturing slaves. Males would be forced into bondage as galley slaves while females were sent to harems in the East.

And the Pope Cast his Arms Abroad…

From the Vatican, Pope Pius V watched the growth of Ottoman power and might in the Mediterranean with grave concern. The continued enslavement of his flock certainly troubled the Pope but what was more likely in the forefront of his mind was the inevitable question of when would the Ottomans directly attack Italy and the Vatican itself, especially as the Europeans continued to fight amongst themselves.

For five years, the Pope sought to create an alliance of Roman Catholic states to push back against the Ottoman menace. However, there was little consensus among these states which were preoccupied with other challenges. France and the Hapsburgs were preoccupied with the challenges of the Protestant Reformation. Great Britain was in he process of rejecting Catholicism and forming its own state church. Spain was eager to participate, viewing the Pope’s proposal as a means of asserting its power and influence, but it’s state coffers were practically empty. Venice, the most powerful Catholic maritime power in the Mediterranean, preferred to avoid conflict with Ottomans so as not to jeopardize their lucrative trade routes. It was also concerned about growing Spanish influence on the Italian peninsula. Nonetheless, the Pope refused to give up hope of drawing Venice and the smaller Italian states into an alliance with Spain.

The situation changed dramatically in the Spring of 1571. The previous summer, the Ottomans declared war on Venice and invaded Cyprus, after Venice refused to voluntarily handover the island to the Turks. In May 1571, Pope Pius V, Philip II of Spain and the Venetians agreed to put aside their differences and combine forces in the form of a Holy League. They hastily assembled a vast Christian armada of more than 200 ships, 40,000 sailors and 20,000 troops led by Philip II’s half-brother Don Juan of Austria. In the summer of 1571, the fleet set sail to lift the siege of Cyprus. When Don Juan learned of the fall of the last Venetian stronghold on that island he headed for the Gulf of Patras where the Ottoman fleet was being refit.

As the forces of Christianity and Islam inched closer to an epic battle the outcome was far from certain. Each side possessed distinct advantages and disadvantages. In terms of sheer numbers, the Ottomans outnumbered the Holy League fleet in ships and manpower. The Ottoman fleet consisted of roughly 300 ships. These vessels were manned by 37,000 oarsmen and sailors and carried approximately 34,000 soldiers. In contrast, the Holy League fleet consisted of 206 ships, crewed by 40,000 oarsmen and sailors, carrying only 20,000 soldiers. Nonetheless, the Christian fleet enjoyed a clear advantage in terms of firepower. The Holy League ships had a total of 1,815 cannons. The Turks had only 750 with insufficient ammunition. Moreover, the Holy League troops were armed with muskets and arquebuses while the Ottomans continued to rely on their feared composite bowmen. The Holy League’s advantage in firepower would prove decisive in the forthcoming battle.

The Holy League also believed that they had the Blessed Mother Mary on their side against the heathen Turks. Pope Pius asked Christians throughout Europe to pray the Rosary, seeking the intercession of the Blessed Mother with her Son for a Christian victory. The Pope also ordered churches to conduct continuous periods of Eucharistic adoration and ordered the Rosary Confraternities in Rome to organize processions during which the Rosary was prayed. The faithful of Europe were all fervently praying at the same time for the same purpose: to save Christianity.

A Battle for the Ages

The Holy League fleet entered the Gulf of Patras early on the morning of 7 October and it spotters quickly identified their Ottoman adversaries far off in the distance. Both sides were determined to give battle that day and began the necessary preparations as they moved to close the distance between them. The Ottomans, under Ali Pasha, had their ships arrayed in the form of a crescent and proceeded to advance West with the wind at their backs. The Holy League found itself in the less enviable position of heading East into the wind and it was uncertain whether the fleet would be able to form a battle line before the Ottomans engaged. Miraculously and unexpectedly, the wind completely reversed directions as if there was a divine intervention, and it was now the Holy League with the advantage.

Don Juan, divided his command into four squadrons. On the left, he placed the soft-spoken but fierce-fighting Venetian Agostino Barbarigo. Juan led the central squadron, supported by the Venetian Admiral Sebastiano Veniero and the papal commander, Marc Antonio Colonna. On the right, Genoese Admiral Gian Andrea Doria was placed in command. Juan also prudently created a reserve squadron, under the command of the Spaniard, Marquis de Santa Cruz, the Holy League’s most respected admiral. At the head of each of his front squadrons, he placed two Venetian galleasses—larger, heavily armed ships, with higher sides that were difficult to board— to break up the Turkish attack.

By nine o’clock the two lines were fifteen miles apart and closing fast. The men of each side steeled themselves for the forthcoming battle. Priests bearing large crucifixes administered the Sacrament and heard final confessions. The Holy League’s battle standard, a gift from the Pope was unfurled and men up and down the battle line cheered as they saw the giant blue banner bearing an image of the crucified Jesus Christ. In the Ottoman fleet gongs and drums blared while the sacred banner with Allah’s name stitched in gold calligraphy was raised.

Around 10 am, the battle commenced. The Holy League drew first blood as four Venetian galleasses opened fire, sinking several Turkish galleys. As the two fleets drew closer, more cannons erupted, arrows rained on the Christians, and Spanish arquebuses spat back balls of lead at the Turks.  The first direct engagement between the two fleets occurred on the Christian left, where the faster Turkish galleys tried to outflank the Catholic fleet, but were driven back against Scropha Point. Amidst the melee, ships rammed one another with the decks of the tangled galleys serving as a floating battleground for hand to hand combat. Here the soldiers of the Holy League, mostly armed with arquebuses and muskets, were able to decimate the Turkish archers.  During the course of the battle, the commander of the Holy League squadron Admiral Agostino Barbarigo fell with an arrow through the eye. His Ottoman counterpart, Mahomet Sirocco, was killed in action and beheaded by one of Barbarigo’s Venetian soldiers. Ill-prepared and out-gunned, the Ottoman galleys began to sink below the waters or were taken by the Holy League as prizes. By early afternoon, the Catholic left had emerged victorious.

In the center the fighting was even more fierce and desperate. Both the Ottomans and the Holy League placed the preponderance of their ships in the center of their line. It is also where the two fleet commanders Don Juan and Ali Pasha deployed their flagships. Usually, the flagships would stand off from the heat of battle, but not this time; both supreme commanders set a hard course for each other. Ali Pasha’s Sultana gained the initial advantage by ramming into the Real. Don Juan grappled the two ships together and boarded. Instantly, a dozen Turkish ships closed in behind Ali Pasha, supplying him with thousands of janissaries. The janissaries had almost taken the Real before the Papal flagship, the Capitana, under Marcantonio Colonna, appeared alongside and mounted a counterattack. The surging Catholic forces drove back the Ottoman janissaries in what had become an infantry battle fought across ships’ decks. The entire crew of the Sultana was killed, including Ali Pasha himself, who was beheaded and had his head foisted on a pike for all to see. The banner of the Holy League was raised on the captured ship, breaking the morale of the Turkish galleys nearby. After two hours of fighting, the Turks were beaten left and center although fighting continued for another two hours.

Ottoman forces attacking on the Holy Leagues right had one last chance to steal a victory out of defeat. The Turkish commander Uluch Ali feigned a flanking maneuver leading the Holy League ships to shift their positions creating a gap between the Catholic right and center. Many Ottoman galleys penetrated the gap, inflicting heavy casualties on the Maltese contingent that bore the brunt of the attack. However, disaster was averted by the timely intervention of the Holy League reserve squadron that drove back the Turks and closed the gap.

By 4 PM, the battle was over. The Ottomans lost 187 ships sunk or captured. Human losses reached around 20,000 killed, wounded, and captured. During the course of battle, about 12,000 Christian slaves were liberated from the Turkish galleys. Holy League loses were more modest, including 13 ships and 7500 killed, wounded and captured.

Aftermath

Lepanto was a decisive victory for the Holy League, one that stopped Ottomans’ expansion into the Mediterranean confirming the de facto division of the Mediterranean into an eastern half under Ottoman control and a western half under the Hapsburgs and their Italian allies. It also showed that the previously unstoppable Turks could be beaten.

The Holy League collapsed in 1573, consumed by political infighting and the Ottomans quickly rebuilt their fleet within six months. By 1572, about six months after the defeat, more than 150 galleys, 8 galleasses, and in total 250 ships had been built, including eight of the largest capital ships ever seen in the Mediterranean. With this new fleet the Ottoman Empire was able to reassert its supremacy in the Eastern Mediterranean but it no longer posed the same threat to the Western Mediterranean it once did.

Word of the great naval victory at Lepanto reached the Vatican on October 22. People were jubilant, Church bells rang and joyful praise was given to the Blessed Mother for her intercession. Soon the pope added a feast day, Our Lady of Victory, as an obligatory memorial to the Church calendar, celebrated every October 7. The victory at Lepanto and the intercession of the Blessed Mother garnered from the faithful praying the rosary, would thus be perpetuated in Catholic memory. The name of the feast changed over the centuries and became known by the current title, Our Lady of the Holy Rosary.