The Venetians: A New History: from Marco Polo to Casanova (32 page)

Barbarossa landed on Corfu, laying waste the agricultural estates of the Venetian landowners and shipping 20,000 Corfiots off into slavery. But he could not break down the resistance of the 4,000 Venetian soldiers in the Old Citadel overlooking Corfu Town, whose high, thick walls were defended by 700 cannon. Reluctantly Barbarossa withdrew and sailed across the strait to the Italian mainland, where he unleashed his wrath on the coastal population of Calabria. This move prompted the newly elected Pope Paul III to call for a Holy League against the Turks. In 1438 this was duly joined
by Charles V, the Venetians and the Genoese. The combined fleet of the Holy League under the leadership of Giovanni Andrea Doria now assembled off Corfu, with more than 300 ships. This included the pride of the Venetian navy, a huge new galleon with a high prow and rounded bows, whose gun-ports bristled with cannon, but which had not yet been proven in battle.

On 28 September 1538 this fleet confronted Barbarossa’s force of 120 vessels off the north-eastern Greek coast at Preveza.
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Precisely what took place, and why, during the ensuing battle remains a matter of dispute. Expecting Doria to follow them into battle, the Venetian galleys and galleon sailed forward to meet the Turkish warships that Barbarossa had cunningly lined up along the coast, backed by the cannon on the walls of the fortress of Actium. The Venetians engaged with the Turkish galleys, which succeeded in surrounding the becalmed galleon, but were easily held off by the galleon’s superior fire power. However, this was the only good news for the Venetian forces. Doria held back and refused to support the Venetians. According to one version, he was attempting to entice the Turkish vessels beyond the cover of the cannon lining the Actium fortress walls. Other sources point to evidence that Doria was under orders from Charles V not to support the Venetians, ‘unless victory was certain’.

Either way, the result was an overwhelming defeat for the fleet of the Holy League, but most of all for the Venetians, who suffered the sinking of seven galleys, with more than three times that number of vessels captured and several thousand men taken prisoner. Doria’s losses were minimal by comparison, and he managed to lead most of his fleet to escape in hurried disarray.

Victory at the Battle of Preveza left Barbarossa in virtual control of the entire Mediterranean. The following year he would capture almost all the remaining Venetian and European outposts in the Aegean, and then return to occupy the Ionian islands at the mouth of the Adriatic. And the year after that Venice was forced to sign a humiliating treaty with Suleiman
the Magnificent, agreeing to pay him 300,000 ducats for the privilege of peace.

The Ottoman navy and their Barbary allies now posed a continual threat to the southern underbelly of Europe, preying at will over the Mediterranean and beyond. At various times Barbarossa had occupied Capri and took Nice, and once even had the effrontery to put his fleet in at Toulon for the winter. Meanwhile unwary fishing boats were constantly attacked way up the Adriatic, and Barbary raiders would soon be putting ashore as far afield as south-west England, taking villagers for galley slaves or to be sold as harem girls in the markets of Algiers and Tripoli.

Suleiman the Magnificent soon began plans for a seaborne invasion of Europe. But in 1566, ending a forty-six-year reign that had seen the Ottoman Empire enter its golden age, he died and was succeeded by his son Selim the Sot, his offspring by a Ruthenian
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former slave girl who had risen through the harem to become his favourite. Owing to Sultan Selim’s preoccupation with drunken orgies, the effective power was wielded by his father’s Bosnian Grand Vizier
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Mehmed Sokollu, who continued with Suleiman the Magnificent’s expansionist policy, with mixed results – an ambitious invasion across the Black Sea against the southern Russian territory of Ivan the Terrible came to naught when the Ottoman fleet was destroyed in a storm. Despite this setback, in the summer of 1570 another Ottoman fleet launched an invasion of Cyprus, dramatically breaking the peace between the Republic and the Ottoman Empire that had lasted for a quarter of a century.

But despite this treaty, the Venetians had for some time harboured their suspicions concerning Ottoman intentions. On the night of 13 September 1569 there had been an extraordinary midnight explosion at the Arsenale, followed by a fire that had spread beyond the walls and destroyed the entire district to the east of the shipyards, reducing houses, churches and a large convent to a smouldering ruin, before it was brought under control. Ottoman sabotage was suspected, but despite intensive enquiries by the
Council of Ten no evidence came to light. Things had come to a head with a number of aggressive incidents in Constantinople against Venetian traders, including the confiscation of trading galleys. At the same time Grand Vizier Sokollu had summoned the Venetian
bailo
to his presence and informed him that, as Cyprus had once been a fiefdom of the Mameluke rulers of Egypt, the island was in fact historically part of the Ottoman Empire now that the Turks ruled Egypt. The Venetians recognised this spurious claim for the threat it was, and immediately pursued the well-trodden path of appealing to all Christian powers for assistance, stressing the seriousness of the situation. If Venice stood under threat, this jeopardised the whole of Europe.

Meanwhile the Ottoman subjugation of Cyprus continued apace. The invasion itself had begun as early as 1 July 1570, when an Ottoman fleet appeared off the coast. This consisted of 350 ships and an army of 200,000 men under the command of Lala Mustafa Pasha. (Even months later, the intelligence reaching the allied Christian fleet had continued to underestimate the Ottoman fleet. Had the two fleets engaged, the humiliation and destruction of Doria’s disorganised fleet would have been inevitable. As it was, they lived to fight another day: an accident that was to prove of no little consequence.)

To test the lie of the land, the Ottomans initially launched a raiding party on Limassol, where they sacked the port and a nearby monastery before being driven back by the modest local force of the Venetian commander, Nicolò Dandolo. Mustafa had then sailed along the coast, where owing to Dandolo’s lack of experience and indecision he had been allowed to land his entire force at Larnaca, some thirty miles to the east. Victory appeared to be a formality, and Mustafa sent ahead a blind Greek monk captured at Limassol as an emissary to the capital, Nicosia. Mustafa’s note demanded that the Venetian authorities surrender the island forthwith, whereupon the Ottomans would be willing to sign a treaty returning to the previous conditions of peace that had prevailed for a quarter of a century between the Republic and the Empire.

No reply was forthcoming, and Mustafa set forth with his invasion force, arriving at Nicosia on 24 July. The city and its surrounding ground were encircled by nine miles of formidable medieval walls, within which
was a force of around 20,000 well-armed soldiers, including 500 cavalry and more than 1,000 arquebuses
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, all under the command of Dandolo. Unfortunately this force was too small to defend the entire wall at once, its soldiers were too ill trained to effect any rapid deployment and were for the most part comically ill suited to the task at hand (when the infantrymen discharged their arquebuses, the explosions set alight their beards). Despite these drawbacks the defenders of Nicosia managed to resist wave after wave of Turkish assaults, which continued through the intense heat of August, when temperatures frequently rose to 100°F (38°C).

Meanwhile Venice’s self-serving alarmist argument – that an alliance of Christian powers was required to halt the march of the Turks – met with a mixed reception. Maximilian II invoked his treaty with the Ottomans, while others presented less plausible excuses. However, in the end Pope Pius V and Philip II of Spain agreed to send a fleet of fifty armed vessels under the command, once more, of Giovanni Andrea Doria. This was due to meet up with the Venetian fleet of just under 150 warships at Zara on the Dalmatian coast. The Christian fleet would now number more than 200 ships, and they estimated that the Ottoman fleet consisted of fewer than 150 ships – the advantage clearly lay with the alliance. But under secret instructions from Philip II, Admiral Doria bided his time at Sicily. After further delays and ‘misunderstandings’ the combined fleets did not actually meet up until they reached Crete on 1 September. Further obstructive tactics by Admiral Doria meant that it was not until 17 September that the allied fleet eventually set sail for Cyprus. This was to prove a deadly delay.

By the first week of September, Turkish reinforcements had arrived on Cyprus from the mainland, and joined the siege of Nicosia. On 9 September, Mustafa launched his fifteenth assault on the city walls, and at last broke through. Dandolo and his loyal supporters made a final stand at the commander’s palace, before he realised that further resistance was useless. Dandolo emerged at the top of the palace steps in his scarlet robes of office in order to surrender, whereupon an Ottoman officer simply decapitated him on the spot. There followed the customary three days of rape
and pillage.
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In this case, local refinements included impaling, mass rape of the young of both sexes, as well as the desecration of Christian churches and holy relics.

When news of the fall of Nicosia reached the allied fleet it simply disintegrated, with the different parties making their separate ways home, thus allowing Mustafa to continue his pillaging unhindered. Over the centuries the strategic position of Cyprus meant that its capital city had accumulated a vast collection of Byzantine and Holy Land treasure, as well as a cornucopia of valuables in the form of gold, silver and jewels. After organising the trans-shipment of booty, Mustafa summoned his troops to order and marched them towards Famagusta on the east coast, leaving behind a sizeable garrison. He was concerned that he had little time to act decisively before the arrival of a large Venetian relief force, which would inevitably be followed by further Christian forces from western Europe.

The customary offer of surrender was sent ahead to the Venetian commander of Famagusta, Marcantonio Bragadin, accompanied by the persuasive gift of Dandolo’s head in a basin. Unlike Niocosia, the walls of Famagusta were all but impregnable, and its 8,000 defenders were led by a brave and able commander. Bragadin refused to surrender, and Famagusta was soon completely surrounded, from both land and sea, by a large Turkish force, which was reinforced by further contingents arriving from the mainland. Even so, Bragadin had high hopes that a Venetian relief force would soon arrive.

The siege of Famagusta began in earnest on 17 September. Autumn passed into winter, and still no Venetian fleet appeared. Then spring came and went. By midsummer 1571 food and ammunition were running out. Not a donkey or cat remained in the city, and by now only 500 able-bodied men remained in a fit state to defend the city and the citizens were imploring Bragadin to surrender. Hoping that if he surrendered voluntarily he might circumvent the harsh penalty meted out by the rules of war, on 18 August Bragadin sent envoys to Mustafa, who agreed to peace, allowing
the Venetians astonishingly magnanimous terms. All Venetians would be permitted to disembark for Crete, along with any Greeks or indigenous Cypriots who wished to accompany them. Any of the latter who chose to remain in Cyprus would be permitted to return to their property and livelihood. Mustafa’s treaty was guaranteed by the great seal of Sultan Selim, no less, and was accompanied by a personal letter from Mustafa to Bragadin, warmly commending him on the gallantry and courage with which he had defended his city.

The soldiers of the garrison, followed by the local inhabitants who had chosen to leave, were permitted to march out of Famagusta with flags flying as the church bells of the city rang out behind them. When all had embarked safely upon Turkish ships offshore, Bragadin donned his robes of office and, together with his leading officers, went to visit Mustafa in his tent, apparently with the intention of formally handing over the keys of the city. Here he was accorded a courteous reception. However, during the course of the conversation between Mustafa and Bragadin something about the Venetian commander’s manner evidently antagonised Mustafa. He suddenly demanded to know what security was being given to ensure that he returned the Turkish ships he was taking to Crete. Bragadin replied that he gave his word of honour. Mustafa scorned this, saying that he required a rather more tangible guarantee, and suggesting that he was given hostages. Bragadin refused this demand, which appeared to impugn his honour. Whereupon Mustafa’s face is said to have clouded with anger: he began accusing Bragadin of mistreating Turkish prisoners and breaking the conditions of the peace treaty, all the while working himself up into an uncontrollable rage. Then without warning he leapt to his feet, pulled out his dagger and sliced off Bragadin’s ear, at the same time ordering a Turkish bodyguard to cut off his other ear and chop off his nose. Yelling to his guards, Mustafa ordered them to seize and kill Bragadin’s accompanying officers, who were at once slashed to pieces.

Soldiers in Mustafa’s camp were then ordered to round up all the Christians they could find, behead them and bring their heads to his tent. Soon a pyramid consisting of some 350 heads is said to have been piled up before him. By now word had spread amongst the Turkish ranks of what was taking place and, overcome by a mass hysteria of bloodlust, they
rushed into the city to begin murdering its inhabitants. According to one report, at this point Mustafa came to his senses and immediately sent orders forbidding his troops from entering the walls of Famagusta on pain of death. But it was too late – his screaming soldiers had already launched upon an unstoppable orgy of rape, looting and slaughter.

Despite regaining his composure, Mustafa appears nonetheless to have been intent on further inflicting his anger upon Bragadin. After several days of torture, Bragadin was subjected to a grotesque ceremony of public humiliation. First he was dragged around the walls of the city, then tied up and hoisted in a chair to the yardarm of the Turkish flagship, where he was subjected to the jeers and insults of the Turkish sailors. He was then dragged to the main square, where before Mustafa, his gathered soldiery and a crowd of cowed Venetian and Cypriot captives his naked body was tied to a pillar, where according to a contemporary report he was ‘brutally flayed alive by a Jewish hangman – a spectacle of hideous and unparalleled barbarity’. Reports of this grim ritual (albeit Venetian reports) speak of Bragadin’s composure under torture, and how he continued to call upon Christ to save him and forgive his enemies right up to the moment of his death. The last of his skin was then removed from his lifeless body and stuffed with straw; afterwards this was placed astride a cow and paraded through the streets. Later this hideous dummy was hauled to the masthead of a Turkish galley and carried off in triumph to Constantinople, where it was graciously presented to Sultan Selim.