Under the Bloody Flag
Page 30
While the raid on Cadiz delayed and disrupted preparations for the Armada, possibly with critical consequences for its leadership, it did not prevent its departure in 1588. After the raid, moreover, Drake was less concerned with inflicting further damage on Spain than with ensuring that the voyage made a profit. His angry dispute with Borough, culminating in dangerous accusations of mutiny and desertion, may have grown out of the latter’s cautious approach to the attack on Cadiz, but it seems to have originated in the jarring tension between commanders of different maritime traditions and service, with differing perceptions of the sea war and naval command. In the short term the implications of this tension were papered over by the need to prepare for the Armada, but they became increasingly difficult to reconcile as the war proceeded.20
In these circumstances the departure of the Armada was testimony to the resources and resilience of the Spanish monarchy, as well as to the religious mission of Philip II, for whom the enterprise of England represented a crusade as much as a means of protecting the integrity of Iberian territory and trade. In place of the original commander, Santa Cruz’s unwilling successor, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, was saddled with a difficult, possibly unworkable, plan for the Armada to convey an invading force of veteran Spanish troops from the Netherlands across the Channel. Regardless of English maritime defences, the success of the expedition depended on precision, timing, logistical support and a knowledge of north-western European waters that tested to the limit Philip’s grand strategy against a resourceful opponent.21
While the English had yet to develop a clear strategic shape or direction for the war at sea, as a counter to the threatened Armada leading members of the war party urged the regime to adopt offensive action against Spain. Concerned at the apparent hesitation of the Queen, and aware of the mounting charge of the navy, in February 1588 Hawkins presented Walsingham with a choice between ‘a dishonourable and uncertain peace … or … a settled war as may bring forth and command a quiet peace’.22 To achieve the latter he argued in favour of maintaining a naval presence on the coast of Spain to seize local shipping and to lie in wait for the returning Indies fleet. A force of six of the Queen’s ships was continuously to patrol the coast, based on a regular period of service lasting four months. It was to be supported by a fleet of six smaller vessels which would cruise between Spain and the Azores. Although Hawkins estimated the monthly cost, in wages and victuals, at £2,700, he claimed that it would be more than covered by the capture of enemy prizes. It was an imaginative and appealing argument for a naval blockade of the enemy, to create the conditions for a peace ‘with honour, safety and profit’, though it was not without risk and had little chance of being implemented, at least in the short term.
Hawkins’ radical plan for re-shaping the conflict at sea was accompanied by a call for a declaration of open war, which was an implicit condemnation of the Queen’s diplomatic determination to maintain the confusing fiction that England was engaged in a campaign of legitimate reprisals against Spain. To some extent it was supported by Drake, who claimed that ‘the continual going to the seas of the smaller sort of … shipping daily upon letters of reprisal … can do little good’.23 Not only was there a lack of suitable prizes along the coasts of Spain, as most shipping sailed in convoy with provisions for the Armada, but also English raiders faced the risk of capture by fleets of Flemish men-of-war from Dunkirk. As the threat of the Armada loomed, Drake appealed to the council, at the end of March, to be allowed to sail for Spain with a fleet of fifty vessels. He repeated the appeal to the Queen several times during the following month, hoping to seize the ‘advantage of time and place’ by fighting the enemy in his own waters.24
At this very time, however, the regime was struggling to assemble shipping to assist in the defence of the realm. Appeals from the council to local officials in the ports for a levy of vessels, particularly belonging to merchants and shipowners who had benefited from reprisals against Spain, met with a mixed response. During April the council received reports, ranging from Hull to Exeter, about an inability to provide ships for service. The mayor and aldermen of Poole begged to be discharged from the responsibility of providing one ship and a pinnace for service. In their defence, they claimed that as local merchants were not involved in reprisal venturing, they had gained nothing from the war at sea. Moreover the town was suffering from a lack of trade, losses at sea and robberies by pirates who haunted Studland Bay. Although officials in the neighbouring port of Lyme Regis sent a pinnace of 40 tons to Plymouth, they insisted that no one of the town had received ‘any benefit by reprisals, except one stranger very lately come in amongst us’.25 The mayor and aldermen of Southampton likewise drew attention to their poverty, exacerbated by losses from reprisals of at least £4,000, and warned of murmuring and unrest among local inhabitants at the anticipated charge of providing two ships and a pinnace. In Ipswich, indeed, there was open resistance from one local gentleman to the attempts of the bailiffs to collect a rate for the levy of three vessels. Local recalcitrance tended to collapse in the face of angry reprimands from the council; inadvertently, however, it may have reinforced the Queen’s determination to prevent the costs of the campaign from spiralling out of control.
Against a Spanish fleet of 130 vessels, which was manned with 22,000 sailors and soldiers, the English mobilized a force of about 180 ships. The English fleet was a hybrid complement of naval and maritime resources: thirty-four of the Queen’s vessels were reinforced by a large body of private shipping, including thirty that were roughly equal, in terms of tonnage and armament, to the former. The English fleet was commanded by Howard, with Drake serving as his Vice Admiral, supported by a host of sea captains of varied experience. This seaborne militia collectively represented a tradition of maritime and naval enterprise that favoured flexibility and initiative against an inflexible and less adaptable fleet and strategy. Although there may have been a degree of crude parity between the rival forces, the campaign of 1588 exposed differences in the organization, armament and employment of seaborne forces that aided the English, despite early warning signs of logistical and financial problems affecting the supply of recruits and gunpowder.26
Lyme Bay, Dorset. During the 1560s and 1570s pirate groups were able to operate along exposed and vulnerable coastlines with little fear of arrest. The region was an important recruiting ground for pirate ships, particularly during the 1560s and 1570s when growing numbers of mariners were seeking employment. Small ports, such as Lyme Regis, continued to be involved in organized plunder during the 1580s. The Julian of Lyme Regis, for example, seized two prizes during 1589 which were valued at £30,000. (Author’s collection)
As the Armada sailed up the Channel it was shadowed, and occasionally harried by the English, who had the weather gauge. Remarkably it reached the coast of northern France almost intact. One of the few Spanish losses was the Nuestra Señora del Rosario, which was disabled and subsequently taken by Drake in an operation that has been endlessly discussed. Although Drake’s decision to abandon his post, in order to seize the Spanish vessel, endangered the formation of the English fleet, leaving the Lord Admiral in an exposed position, it was an opportunistic, almost reflex action, by a commander whose experience was rooted in plunder. Nor was Drake condemned for his behaviour. Although Frobisher angrily insisted on receiving a share of the prize from Drake, threatening to ‘make him spend the best blood in his belly’, his comments were the product of petty rivalry between two men of similar background over a division of booty.27
The arrival of the Armada off Calais exposed fatal flaws in the Spanish plan. While Parma’s troops were being assembled, the activities of Dutch men-of-war along the coast presented an unforeseen and potentially crippling hazard to their embarkation. Under Justin of Nassau, the Dutch force effectively locked in the Spanish army, preventing it from leaving Dunkirk or Nieuport. Seizing the advantage, the English used fire ships to disperse the Spanish fleet. During the only sustained conflict of the campaign, off G
ravelines, the superior gunnery of the larger English vessels inflicted significant damage on the Spanish. According to William Winter, about 500 shots of various kinds were fired from his ship during the course of the day. This was a rate of fire power that the Spanish were unable to match, though it left many English vessels dangerously short of powder and shot. Howard reported afterwards that the English sank three enemy vessels, while another four were so leaky and damaged that they were forced ashore. In disarray the Armada was inexorably driven north by the weather. Howard ‘set on a brag countenance and gave them chase’, at least until the Spanish vessels cleared the east coast of England.28
The Armada campaign battered both sides to near exhaustion. At times improvised, English provisioning appeared to be close to breaking down. As Howard followed the Spanish fleet in the North Sea with his supply of powder and shot nearly spent, some members of his company were reportedly forced to eat beans and drink their own urine.29 Inadequate supplies of victuals and fresh water encouraged the outbreak of sickness and mortality which spread rapidly among men who had been at sea for a prolonged period, with little pay or fresh clothing. The casualties among the company of one vessel, the Elizabeth Jonas, amounted to more than 200, contributing to a groundswell of discontent over pay and conditions. On 26 August Hawkins reprimanded Burghley for seeking to save money by the death or discharge of sick men. Shortly after Howard complained of the shortages in provisions, and warned that future recruitment to the navy would be affected if there was no improvement. Many of the Spanish suffered worse. Severely weakened and scattered by autumn gales, the Armada was forced to return to Spain around the dangerous coasts of Scotland and Ireland, where as many as twenty vessels were wrecked with the loss of thousands of men. In Ireland widespread reports indicate that some of the survivors were robbed and killed, often along the sea shore.30
The failure of the Armada, despite the survival of nearly two-thirds of the shipping sent against England, was profoundly damaging to Spanish morale. As the scale of the failure became more apparent in England, relief and thanksgiving gave way to optimism and commemoration which were subsequently translated into myth and memory. The publication of Hakluyt’s Principal Navigations in 1589, with its epic celebration of English maritime enterprise, appeared to capture the changing mood, although its attempt to revive interest in North American colonization was short lived. In any case the sea war continued to present more pressing, and potentially profitable opportunities.
In a bold attempt to exploit the defeat of the Armada, the Queen authorized a large-scale expedition against Spain under the command of Drake and Sir John Norris. Although one of its key aims was to complete the destruction of the Armada, the survivors of which were huddled in Santander and other harbours in the Bay of Biscay, following discussions between the leaders and Don Antonio a more radical and comprehensive scheme emerged. This included a plan to restore the Portuguese pretender with possible assistance from the King of Morocco, followed by an attempt to intercept the Indies fleet. In order to promote the expedition, in October 1588 Don Antonio offered Burghley the tempting prospect of establishing the East Indies trade in England. It was left to a group of London clergymen to affirm the legitimacy of Protestant support for the restoration of a Catholic ruler, following a disputation during November, but only as a means of weakening the ‘capital enemy’ of Spain.31
Against this shifting background the instructions for Norris and Drake, drawn up in February 1589, emphasized two purposes, which involved the destruction of Spanish ships in Santander and neighbouring ports and the seizure of the Indies fleet at the Azores. The restoration of Don Antonio was to proceed only after the leaders were satisfied that he would be supported by the Portuguese people. A council of experienced soldiers from the Netherlands, including Sir Roger Williams and Sir Edward Norris, and maritime adventurers, such as Thomas and William Fenner, was appointed to assist the leaders.32
The expedition represented a substantial investment in the business of war. Despite Burghley’s concern at its mounting costs, a force of about 100 ships, manned with more than 20,000 seamen and soldiers, some of whom were withdrawn from the Netherlands against Dutch protests, was assembled during 1589. The Queen contributed seven of the largest vessels. The rest of the shipping was owned by a diverse range of private adventurers, including Drake, his associates and supporters at court, and a growing number of merchants and shipowners who were acquiring a prominent role in the war of reprisals against Spain, such as Thomas Cordell and John Watts. The mobilization of such an impressive strike force seemed to demonstrate widespread support for offensive and potentially profitable action at sea, but it was based on confusing goals and high expectations of success. Such was the appeal of honour, profit and service that the Earl of Essex, a penurious, but leading representative of a younger generation of courtiers and Protestant champions, risked the Queen’s anger by volunteering to accompany Drake and Norris with his friends, followers and kinsmen.33
The expedition failed to accomplish any of its goals, raising questions about command and leadership, and demonstrating the difficulties of organizing the sea war when strategic objectives were confused with financial ambitions. Before departing from Plymouth, during April 1589, Drake and Norris informed the council of their intention to sail for the coast of northern Spain, following the receipt of information that 200 vessels of varied nationality had lately arrived with supplies for the enemy, effectively setting aside one of their key goals. By 24 April the expedition had reached Corunna. The English captured the lower town and wasted the surrounding countryside. The inhabitants set fire to a Portuguese galleon which had served in the Armada, while Drake seized several ships in the harbour. Unable to take the upper town, the English withdrew and sailed for the coast of Portugal, neglecting the opportunity of destroying about half of the survivors of the Armada which were harboured in Santander. On hearing news of the action at Corunna, the Queen caustically commented on the negligence of Norris and Drake in failing to perform what they had promised, preferring instead to raid ‘places more for profit than for service’.34
As the expedition sailed south for Lisbon the extreme heat took a heavy toll among the soldiers. Although the raiders met with little initial resistance, they were not welcomed as liberators by the Portuguese. Indeed, Sir Roger Williams complained that they did more harm than good. Soldiers and sailors were demoralized by the outbreak of disease, indecision among the leaders and a lack of supplies from England. Drake admitted that a ‘little comfortable dew from heaven, some crowns or some reasonable booty’, were needed to revitalize the company.35 While the expedition seized more than sixty vessels in the harbour, laden with corn and other provisions, it was unable to take Lisbon, which had been forewarned and reinforced as a result of the raid on Corunna. After a week of indecisive skirmishing ashore, Norris and Drake withdrew, intending to sail for the Azores, but the spread of sickness and contrary winds forced them back to England.
It was a costly and damaging failure, particularly for the Queen who had invested £49,000 in the expedition. It provoked bitter recriminations and fuelled debate over the character and direction of the sea war. Among the explanations offered for the failure of the venture, there was a tendency to use the opportunistic attack on Corunna as an excuse, though at least one report also drew attention to a lack of counsel and consultation. Anthony Wingfield’s discourse on the voyage indicates that the expedition went ahead despite misgivings and opposition in some quarters. Nonetheless, Wingfield was convinced that seaborne expeditions remained the best way to bring Spain to its knees, while forcing the enemy on the defensive, in order ‘to free ourselves from the war at our own walls’.36 Neither Drake nor Norris escaped censure for their conduct during the voyage. In October 1589 both men were charged by the council with failing to carry out their instructions. The expedition damaged the reputation of Drake, whose career in royal service seemed to be over. Above all, however, its failure exposed the underlying tension w
ithin the coalition of interests between the state and private enterprise, and the danger, as Elizabeth recognized, of strategic objectives being subverted in favour of spoil and profit.
The early years of the Anglo-Spanish War thus provided a real challenge for the English organization of the conflict at sea. Maritime and naval resources were rapidly mobilized and energetically deployed, but with mixed results. In particular there was little evidence that a conflict on this scale would be cheap or, as yet, capable of paying for itself. While the war generated strategic ideas and initiatives, they were overshadowed by the failure of the expedition of 1589. The poor success of squadrons despatched to the coast of Spain and the Azores during 1590 and 1591, in search of the Spanish silver fleet, also raised doubts about the value of offensive action at sea. By the early 1590s, moreover, the regime was faced with the alarming prospect of the land war spreading into northern France.37 In these circumstances the Queen’s enthusiasm for further large-scale seaborne expeditions cooled, leaving the maritime conflict in the hands of private adventurers who were ostensibly engaged in legitimate reprisals against the Spanish monarchy.