gathered at Messina, Cyprus had fallen amidst scenes of hellish carnage which aroused the Christian force to fury. The fleet of Venice had suffered much, and notwithstanding the reproaches of the pope for his tardiness in following up the Turks, who were now harrying the Adriatic, it was September 1571 before Don Juan and his combined fleets left Messina. He had 208 galleys, 6 galleasses, and 50 small boats, 29,000 men-at-arms, and 50,000 sailors and rowers. The force was a great one, but it had a great task before it. Piali and Uluch Ali had joined, and had a fleet which had never yet been beaten at sea in the Mediterranean. Time after time the Turks had shown that in a sea-fight they were superior to any power in the world; but this was a holy war. The pope had sent to Don Juan in Naples a blessed banner of blue damask covered with sacred emblems; all the pomp and solemnity that the Church could confer upon an expedition was extended to this; prayers and rogations for its success were sounding through every church in Catholic Christendom, and, above all, the hearts of men, and women too, were aflame with enthusiasm when they saw the fervent zeal of the splendid young prince who was to lead the hosts of Christ against the infidel. Dressed in white velvet and gold, with a crimson scarf across his breast, his fair curls glinting in the sun, he looked, they said in Naples, like a prince of romance, and men, high and low, upon his fleet were ready to go whithersoever he might lead them. Every man on the fleet fasted, confessed, and received remission of his sins, and all felt that they were engaged in a struggle for the Cross. The Turks were still ravaging the Venetian territories, as they had ravaged Corfu, but the experienced commanders of Don Juan’s force were opposed to attacking the dreaded enemy in the open. Better repeat the policy of the past, and lay siege to some fortified place. Doria especially, was for turning back and awaiting the spring. But Don Juan would have no such timid tactics, and decided to attack the Turkish fleet, which, his spies told him, was lying in the bay of Lepanto. He sighted the enemy at daybreak on October 7--Sunday--advancing with flags flying and cymbals clashing; and after giving orders for the fray, Don Juan knelt with all his army before the crucifixes, the whole of the force being solemnly absolved by the Jesuits and other monks, who swarmed on the ships. Then through the fleet in a pinnace the young general sailed, crying out words of exhortation to his men. “Christ is your general!” “The hour for vengeance has come!” “You are come to fight the battle of the Cross, to conquer or to die,” and so forth. There is no space here to describe the battle in detail. The story is a familiar one; how the Turks were swept from the seas and their power on the Mediterranean gone for ever. There was no resisting a force worked up to the pitch of fervour which Don Juan had infused into his.