ge.

So long as the Turk invaded Christian territory by land alone,
the Venetians were unconcerned. They made what treaties they could
for continuing their trade with communities that had fallen into
the conquerors' hands. But when the Turk began to spread out by
sea it was inevitable that he must clash with the Venetian, and so
there was much fighting. Yet even after a successful naval campaign
the emissary of Venice was obliged to come before the Sultan, cap
in hand, to beg trading privileges in Turkish territory. Everything
in Venetian policy was subordinated to the maintenance of sufficient
friendly relations with the Turk to assure a commercial monopoly in
the Levant. Although the Moslem peril grew more and more menacing,
Venice remained unwilling to join in any united action for the
common good of Europe.

Of course Venice was not alone in this policy. In 1534 Francis
the First, for example, in order to humiliate his rival, Charles
V, secretly sent word to Barbarossa of the plans being made against
him. Indeed France showed no interest in combating the Turk even
at the time when he was at the summit of his power. But Venice, as
the dominating naval power, had the means of checking the Turkish
invasion if she had chosen to do so. Instead she permitted the
control of the Mediterranean to slip from her into the hands of
the Moslems with scarcely a blow.

The leading part in the resistance to the Moslem sea power was
taken by Spain under Charles V. He had, as admiral of the navy,
Andrea Doria, the Genoese, the ablest seaman on the Christian side.
Early in his career he had captured a notorious corsair; later
in the service of Spain, he defeated the Turks at Patras (at the
entrance to the Gulf of Corinth), and again at the Dardanelles.
These successes threatened Turkish supremacy on the Mediterranean,
and Sultan Soliman "the Magnificent," the ruler under whom the
Turkish empire reached its zenith, summoned the Algerian corsair
Barbarossa and gave him supreme command over all the fleets under
the Moslem banner. At this time, 1533, Barbarossa was seventy-seven
years old, but he had lost none of his fire or ability. On the
occasion of being presented to the Sultan, he uttered a saying
that might stand as the text for all the writings of Mahan: "Sire,
he who rules on the sea will shortly rule on the land also."

The following year Barbarossa set out from Constantinople with
a powerful fleet and proceeded to ravage th