The Defeat of the Spanish Armada

AN officer of the American navy has lately aroused widespread interest in the influence of sea power upon history. For England the subject has a very special significance. Supremacy at sea is the only safeguard of her world empire. Will she be able to maintain this supre- macy against all possible combinations of her powerful rivals? Thoughtful Englishmen, endeavoring to answer this question by learning the lessons of the past, are to-day turning their attention to the beginning of their glorious naval history, to the great crisis of the sixteenth century, from which, thanks to her fleet, England emerged grandly victorious.

Froude and Motley have described with great brilliancy the defeat of the Armada, but nobody has drawn a complete and accurate picture of the battles. An endeavor, therefore, to weave the authentic Spanish and English evidence¹ into an impartial description of an event so momentous will not seem superfluous.

The acquisition of England had always been one of the principal aims of Philip II. He at first attempted it by the peaceful method of marriage. As Mary Tudor’s husband he had been titular king of England, and had afterwards sued for the hand of Elizabeth. Baffled in this suit, he began to entertain the idea of acquiring the country by force of arms, but halted long on his proverbial “ leaden foot ” before he deemed the time come to realize it. During the nineteen years of her captivity, Mary Queen of Scots inspired Catholic Europe to form endless plans for invading England; but they all came to naught, because Philip, whose aid was regarded as essential, steadily refused to take part in an enterprise which promised only to serve the ends of the great rival power, France. Guise, one of the most zealous advocates of the invasion, was a Frenchman. His father had beaten Philip’s father at Metz. Mary Stuart’s mother was a Guise, and she herself had once been queen of France. Since the formation of the League, however, Guise had become Philip’s ally against the French king and the Huguenots. France, torn by civil war, was no longer in a position to interfere in the conquest of England. Philip’s dread of Mary Stuart’s French sympathies had also been relieved when she bequeathed him her rights to the throne of England. Her death brought about what she had vainly hoped and striven for in life. No sooner had Philip heard of the tragedy at Fotheringay than he decided irrevocably upon the invasion, since it could now be undertaken for the aggrandizement of Spain alone.

In sending forth the Armada, Philip appeared to Catholic Europe as the avenger of a saintly martyr to the Catholic cause. In reality he was hastening to enter upon his inheritance. Yet his religious motives must not be overlooked. In his mind, greed of power and zeal for Holy Church were inseparably confused. While the conquest of Great Britain meant a vast increase of his empire, it meant also the restoration of the country to the true faith, and was thus, he easily persuaded himself, a service especially acceptable to the Almighty.

Both because the war was a religious one and because the anxious king wished to make sure of Heaven’s favor for his ambitious project, he proclaimed that his chief object in sending the Armada was to serve the Lord and deliver the souls of oppressed English Catholics. Officers and men were exhorted to live blameless lives, as became soldiers of the Church. Severe penalties were fixed for blasphemy against “ our Lord, our Lady, or the saints,” for brawling or dueling, for unchastity. Even the flags, showing, besides the arms of Spain, the figures of Christ and the Virgin, symbolized the double nature of the invasion. Every evening, at sunset, the ships’ boys were to chant, at the foot of the mainmast, the Ave Maria, and every Saturday evening the Salve as well.

The Armada was to be commanded by the Marquis of Santa Cruz, the most distinguished officer in the Spanish navy, a weather-beaten old hero who was said never to have lost a battle. But Santa Cruz died in the midst of his preparations. Philip chose as his successor the Duke of Medina - Sidonia, whose only claims to distinction were high birth and enormous wealth. He knew absolutely nothing of naval warfare, having been on the water only enough to know that he was subject to seasickness. What induced the king to make this fatal choice is an unsolved riddle.

Medina-Sidonia’s instructions bade him sail straight to Margate roads. The Duke of Parma was to come across from Flanders with his army and join him here as soon as possible after the arrival of the Armada. As he sailed up channel, he was not especially to seek or to avoid an engagement. In case, however, an English fleet off Margate should prevent Parma’s transports from crossing, the admiral was to risk a decisive battle.

The Armada left the mouth of the Tagus on May 30th. The high-built, clumsy galleons made no progress against the northerly winds. After tacking out and in for a whole fortnight, they were still in the latitude of Lisbon. Not till June 10th did they get a fair wind. On the 19th it was blowing a gale, and Medina-Sidonia put for shelter, with part of his ships, into Coruña. The rest expected to enter the harbor the next morning, but were scattered and crippled during the stormy night. The inexperienced admiral was discouraged, and wrote advising the king, since the fleet was dispersed and many of the men were ill, the provisions bad and scanty, crews and officers inefficient, to seek an honorable peace with England. Here was a startling revelation of his character. He was longing to abandon the expedition before he had seen an enemy or so much as left the shores of Spain. It was a piece of inexcusable folly that Philip did not seize this opportunity to retrieve his error, and appoint in Medina-Sidonia’s stead an efficient veteran ; Recalde, for instance, who had served under Santa Cruz, and was regarded, since the latter’s death, as the first sea-warrior in Spain.

The king, however, with characteristic tenacity, refused to acknowledge his mistake, and bade the admiral collect and repair the fleet and start afresh. Soon all was in order. After several days of stormy weather, it began, in the evening of July 21st, to clear. The sun rose next morning upon a scene impressive and singularly beautiful. The mightiest fleet ever built in Christendom was floating majestically, before a light, southwesterly breeze, down the harbor and past the fair vineyards of Coruña. The great sails hung listlessly from the yards. Early in the afternoon the wind had fallen to a calm. It seemed as if the Armada, with a foreboding that only a shattered remnant of these proud ships and high-spirited warriors would ever return, was leaving Spain with sad reluctance.

Soon the wind came up from the south, and the galleons could be laid upon their course for England. The blue hills of Spain gradually sank into the sea. On the 27th the Armada encountered a fearful storm. The Spanish sailors declared they had never known such a high sea at that time of year. The next morning forty sail were missing. It was found that they had simply been driven ahead. On the 29th, after the ships had been got together again, there was a cry of “ Land! ” The men on the lookout had descried the gray ridge of the Lizard. It was a solemn moment. With mingled feelings of hope and anxiety, the chivalry of Spain now caught a first glimpse of the country which they had set forth to conquer for their king and their Church. Amidst the roar of cannon, MedinaSidonia ran a flag up to his foretop, embroidered with a Christ on the cross, the Virgin, and the Magdalene. Officers and men fell on their knees for thanksgiving and prayer. Soon the Spaniards saw along the shore the glare of beaconfires flashing from hill to hill the news that the invaders of England were upon her.

The English admiral, Lord Howard, got the startling tidings in Plymouth, the day that the Armada sighted the Lizard. That very night he worked his fleet out of harbor in the teeth of a southwester, and ran out the next day as far as the Eddystone. It was dark and rainy. At last the English sailors, peering with ill-concealed excitement through the gloom, made out the indistinct outlines of the great Armada.

Before the fighting begins it will be essential to give some description of the fleets. The Spaniards had a hundred and thirty-two vessels, with seven thousand sailors and seventeen thousand soldiers. Of these ships, fifty-nine were first-rates, averaging seven hundred and twenty-six tons and carrying an average of twentysix guns. The other vessels had much fewer guns, except the four galleasses, which had fifty each. The Spanish firstrates, though somewhat lightly built, had two huge masts with very large sails, besides two smaller masts at bow and stern. The largest galleons drew from twentyfive to thirty feet. The galleasses were very large galleys, each propelled by three hundred rowers.

The English fleet consisted, in the Armada year, of one hundred and ninetysix vessels and fifteen thousand men. The greatest number of ships present in any fight was one hundred and thirty, with perhaps ten thousand men. Of these ships, the twenty - three largest varied from one thousand to three hundred tons.

Though the Spaniards had many more heavy ships than their opponents, several of the English ships were equal in tonnage to the largest galleons. The latter, however, looked bigger on account of their higher poops and forecastles. The English ships also were very high, according to our present ideas. The largest of them, no bigger than a good-sized yacht of to-day, measured one hundred feet on the keel. Their greatest length, owing to an overhang fore and aft, was one hundred and fifty feet. Lower built and better rigged, they easily outsailed the Spaniards. The queen’s best ships had four masts, two forward, each with two yards, the others with one each. There was also a little mast on the bowsprit.

Unfortunately, the data are not adequate to an accurate comparison of the English and Spanish armaments. The hardest fighting was done by about twenty-two Spanish and fourteen English ships. These two squadrons had on the average about the same number of guns. Since the guns of the Spanish squadron were not very inferior in weight, their absolutely greater number was a considerable advantage. It may, however, be accepted that the armament of the English fleet as a whole was somewhat heavier than that of the Armada. Yet the English owed their great success, not to a slight superiority of armament, but to their splendid artillery practice. They greatly surpassed the Spaniards in both quickness and accuracy of fire.

Such were the fleets which were just heaving in sight of each other. The cautious Spanish admiral thought the day too far spent for a battle, and lay to for the night. In the small hours of the morning the moon came out, and by her light the Spaniards could see English ships flitting past and getting to windward. By sunrise on the 31st of July about sixty of them had got the weathergauge. The rest, a little squadron of eleven, now joined these, saucily tacking past the Armada and exchanging shots with it.

Meanwhile, Medina-Sidonia had given the signal to clear for action. His fleet extended from north to south in a line which, curving from its centre gradually westward, resembled a crescent. Leyva, who was to succeed Medina-Sidonia in case of mishap, commanded the ships which formed the northern horn, Recalde the south wing, and Medina-Sidonia himself the centre.

It was now nine o’clock. The Lord Admiral Howard, with a touch of chivalrous formality, let his pinnace Disdain sail towards the Armada “ to give the Duke of Medina defiance.” Then the whole English fleet, led by Howard in the Ark, bore down in admirable order before the westerly wind. When within cannon-shot they turned to the south, and, as they glided by with wind abeam, poured forth their broadsides. In a moment they had rushed past, and were now opposite the southern division of the crescent. The ships of this division retired hastily towards the centre, leaving their commander, Recalde, to fight alone. He held his ground nobly. Drake, Hawkins, Frobisher, and many others pounded him with their heavy guns, but refused, in spite of the odds in their favor, to close and fight, hand to hand. Soon the battle had become general. Leyva left the northern wing, and, after a rash attempt to engage Howard, was quickly surrounded and exposed to a galling fire. Meanwhile, Howard had found in Pimentel, captain of the San Mateo, a foe worthy of his mettle. The fray was still hottest on the southern wing, where Recalde continued to bear the brunt of it. Though nobody came to his rescue, he kept up the unequal contest for hours. Medina-Sidonia, hoping he would retire, rounded to and waited for him instead of drifting along before the west wind, like the rest of the Armada. When the English saw the Spanish admiral thus lagging behind, three of their ships led down upon him and opened fire. Soon after midday Howard suddenly ran up to his masthead the signal for retreat. The whole English fleet turned and flew away, close-hauled, leaving the astonished Spaniards far to leeward.

Recalde had sustained his reputation as the best seaman that Spain possessed. He could not have held out much longer. The English guns had played such havoc that his crew were busy with repairs till noon of the next day.

Medina-Sidonia followed the retreating English with a few galleons, but soon saw how vain was the attempt to catch them. The Spaniards were amazed to see the English ships slipping away, as it seemed to them, in the very eye of the wind. The baffled Armada wore round and proceeded slowly up channel.

Though the first skirmish with the Armada had been in no way decisive, the English had certainly done more damage than they had suffered. It is curious to see Medina-Sidonia’s impression of the encounter. After the smoke had blown away, he sat down and wrote a letter to Parma. He said that Recalde, though for a time in some danger, had by his undaunted resistance made the enemy withdraw. He did not call this flight, nor did he think the Armada had won a victory ; on the contrary, the mysterious tactics of the English, who were still hovering in full view a few miles to windward, troubled him. He could not understand, if they were really formidable, why they had not risked a decisive engagement.

The Spaniards had constantly tried to grapple and board. It was a bitter disappointment to them that the English, who with their fast ships could fight as they chose, obstinately refused to come to “ hand strokes.” For there was a large army on board the Armada. Had it been possible to grapple and send those splendid veterans into the enemy’s ships, the Spaniards would have had excellent chances of victory.

The inability to board was not the only disheartening feature of the fight. The slowness of the galleons was to blame for that. There was, however, no excuse for the disgraceful cowardice of the captains who had fled and left Recalde to resist a whole fleet alone.

While the Spaniards were perplexed and dissatisfied, the English had a right to be pleased with their Sunday morning’s work. On the shelves of the London Record Office are many autograph letters written by Howard, Drake, and other Elizabethan worthies during the stirring Armada days. They are yellow with age, and so badly scrawled that the recipients must have found great difficulty in deciphering them. One of Howard’s and one of Drake’s bear the date of the battle of Plymouth.

“ I will not trouble you with any long letter,” says Howard. “ We are at present otherwise occupied than with writing.” In the fight, he continues, perhaps slightly overestimating his success, “ we made some of them to bear room ² to stop their leaks.” Nevertheless, the Armada had struck him as very formidable. “ We durst not put in among them, their fleet, being so strong.” Scarred and weather-beaten Drake, too, who had spent his life fighting Spaniards on every sea, looked for a hard struggle. “ They are determined to sell their lives with blows,” he writes.

Not long after the unexpected retreat of the enemy, the Spaniards saw them drawing near again. The Armada rounded to. Immediately the wary English did the same. Howard was unwilling to expose his fleet till the forty ships still in Plymouth harbor had joined him. While the Spaniards were awaiting an attack, the air was suddenly rent by a terrific explosion. Anticipating a renewal of the morning’s fight, the captain of the San Salvador had been getting his powder-casks ready, when, owing to careless handling, they ignited and blew up the castle-like structure of the stern. The water began to pour in. The rigging collapsed. Part of the crew sprang into the sea, others were brought off in boats. Many had been killed or mutilated by the explosion. Several galleons hastened to the rescue, and, after the fire had been mastered, took the shattered San Salvador in tow.

Nor was this the only accident of the eventful Sunday. After the fight, Recalde sent word to Don Pedro de Valdes, admiral of the Andalusia squadron, that “ his galleon was sore beaten,” and begged him to come to his relief. While, in compliance with this request, he was bearing down towards his old companion in arms, Valdes fouled successively two galleons, carrying away his bowsprit and suffering other serious damage. He immediately notified Medina-Sidonia, asking him to wait till his hurts could be repaired. Meanwhile the sea rose, and Valdes’s crippled ship rolled so badly that her foremast broke clean off close to the deck. Valdes informed the duke of his new mishap, and discharged his guns as a signal of distress. The duke gave order that he should be taken in tow. This order was not carried out, and, as Valdes afterwards wrote from his English prison, Medina-Sidonia, “ even as if we had not been your Majesty’s subjects nor employed in your service, discharged a piece to call the fleet together and followed his course, leaving me comfortless.” Valdes exchanged shots with the enemy during the night, “ hoping still that the duke would not use so great inhumanity and unthankfulness towards me ; for greater, I think, was never heard of among men.” The next day he struck his flag to Drake, who sent the galleon to Dartmouth. Valdes, however, and a few of his officers remained with Drake, and had the remarkable experience of witnessing the defeat of the Armada from his ship, the Revenge, which was always in the thickest of the fight.

Medina-Sidonia’s incapacity had now cost him one of his best ships and one of his most distinguished officers. Valdes had commanded the Spanish fleet on the coast of Holland in Don Juan’s time, and his knowledge of the Channel would have proved most useful. As if this loss was not enough, the ship which had exploded on Sunday afternoon also fell into the enemy’s hands, the next day, after a bungling attempt to sink her, and proved a valuable prize. Lord Thomas Howard and John Hawkins went aboard her,

“ where they saw a very pitiful sight, — the deck of the ship fallen down, the steerage broken, the stern blown out, and about fifty poor creatures burnt with powder in most miserable sort.” Both ships furnished Howard with ammunition, of which he was sorely in need.

These two mishaps had a most depressing effect upon the Spaniards, to whom they seemed an omen of complete disaster. Their confidence in their admiral was shaken. Fearing to share Valdes’s fate if they allowed their ships to be battered by the enemy, they felt little encouragement to deeds of prowess.

Medina-Sidonia determined to hasten on his way towards Parma, and waste no more time upon an enemy who, attempting only to harass and impede him, would not fight a decisive battle. He united the north and south wings, thus forming a very strong rearguard, which was to keep the English at bay. He commanded his sargentos mayores to hang at once any captain who should leave the post now assigned him. The duke’s decision to hasten up channel was quite justifiable. Nevertheless, it must have struck the Spaniards, humiliated and discouraged as they were by the occurrences of Sunday, that their present course bore an unpleasant resemblance to flight.

Sunday night the English fleet had been ordered to follow Drake’s ship, which was to carry a special light; but late in the evening Drake started off in pursuit of certain hulks which he mistook for Spaniards. Having thus lost their guide, most of the English fleet stayed behind, while Howard and a few others continued to follow the Armada. At sunrise the English admiral could see nothing of his fleet save a few topsails whitening here and there the western horizon. Very many of the stragglers, among them Drake, who stopped to capture Valdes, did not overtake Howard till late Monday evening. Had his fleet been together, he would perhaps have repeated the performance of Sunday. At all events, he would not yet have risked a great battle. His chief object was to keep the enemy from landing, and at the same time to weaken him as much as possible without great risk to his own fleet.

At sunrise, Tuesday, August 2d, the fleets were off the Isle of Portland. The wind was blowing from the northeast, so that the Armada was at last to windward. The English were all sailing close-hauled towards the shore, hoping to regain the weather-gauge. Medina-Sidonia was determined, if possible, to keep his advantage, and went off on the same tack, followed by the whole Armada. As the fleets, owing to the better weatherly qualities of the English, drew nearer and nearer, Howard, seeing that he could not get by on that tack, went about. When the English were in stays, the Spaniards slackened sheets and swept down upon them, hoping that their nimble enemy could no longer escape a hand-to-hand encounter.

It was an imposing spectacle. The countless oars of the galleasses were flashing in the sunlight. The towering galleons, as they bore down under full sail, looked as if they might ram and sink the low-built English without firing a gun. The Regazona, largest of the galleons, was leading the Spaniards, and made directly for Howard, firing into him and trying to close. He allowed her to get very near, then filled and backed away in a twinkling. The other galleons had no better success. MedinaSidonia’s chief hope of boarding now rested with the galleasses. They attacked a little cluster of English ships, among them Frobisher’s Triumph, which were already engaged in a hot fight with several big galleons; but the galleasses, rowed by unwilling slaves, could not get near enough to throw grappling - hooks into the enemy’s rigging. They too had to content themselves with replying as best they could to the incessant fire of the English guns. Many ships on both sides were scarcely more than lookers-on.

Soon, as often happens in the Channel, the wind began to go round with the sun. It shifted to southeast, and soon to south-southwest, putting the English in their turn to windward. A strong division of them now charged the main body of the Armada, leaving to the southwestward Frobisher and his group still engaged with a Spanish detachment. They bore with free sheets straight down upon Recalde, who was always present where the hardest blows might be expected. Leyva hastened to his support, while Medina-Sidonia sent the ships about him to help Recalde, and started off close-hauled to the westward, hoping to tack through the enemy and succor the galleasses and galleons which were fighting Frobisher. He had already left the English, who were now engaged in a furious fight with Recalde and Leyva, somewhat to leeward, when Howard, seeing Medina - Sidonia’s design, and fearing that Frobisher might be caught in a trap, suddenly left Recalde and hastened to the rescue. On his way he had to pass Medina-Sidonia, who was now quite isolated. When he saw Howard leading down upon him, he shortened sail and waited for him. Howard approached within musket-shot before firing a gun, and, as he sailed by, discharged a terrific broadside at this short range. He was followed by a long line of ships, which likewise fired into Medina-Sidonia as they passed ; but he replied so fiercely that, as the Spaniards noticed complacently, the second half of the English line did not venture so near as the first. Recalde, Leyva, and Oquendo hastened to the support of their hardpressed admiral, who was now attacked by a fresh group of English. The fighting became desperate. As a gentleman on board the San Martin wrote, Oquendo completely “ hid his ship in the smoke of his guns and made Fame jealous.” The Spaniards were inspired anew with the hope of grappling, but every attempt was foiled. This was maddening. It seemed, one of them said, as if their galleons were anchored, while the English vessels had wings. By this time Howard had succeeded in driving off the ships which were besetting Frobisher. It was now late in the afternoon. MedinaSidonia, unable to close, and unwilling longer to expose the Armada to a fire so much more deadly than his own, collected his scattered ships and started up channel again.

The next day there was but little fighting. Howard, whose ammunition had been nearly exhausted by the quick firing, decided to await a fresh supply. Meanwhile he arranged his fleet in four squadrons, commanded by himself, Drake, Hawkins, and Frobisher. Medina -Sidonia, on the other hand, took advantage of the favorable wind and weather to hasten on towards Parma.

Thursday morning, August 4th, the fleets had reached the Isle of Wight. The wind had fallen to a calm. A galleon which had lagged behind during the night was drifting along not far ahead of Hawkins’s squadron. Hoping to make a prize of her, Hawkins ordered boats lowered, and had a number of his ships towed so near that the boats were beaten off with musket-shot. The galleasses, however, darted Over the smooth water to the rescue. The lord admiral and his kinsman, Lord Thomas Howard, immediately towed within range of the galleasses, and raked them so effectively with their heavy guns that they had not the courage to close. “ One of them was fain to be carried away upon the careen,” wrote an Englishman who saw the fight, “ and another, by a shot from the Ark, lost her lantern, which came swimming by, and the third his nose.” The galleasses “ were never seen in fight any more, so bad was their entertainment in this encounter.” Both fleets looked on, until “ at length it began to blow a little gale ” from the south. This enabled Leyva to bring a few ships to the relief of the galleasses. At the same time, Frobisher, followed by some of the best ships of his squadron, bore down upon Medina-Sidonia, who had sailed back with part of his vanguard to take part in the fight. He now formed with his consorts the north wing of the Armada. Frobisher and his companions came closer than any English ships had done as yet, and they hulled Medina-Sidonia’s galleon so often that he thought they were using bigger guns than hitherto and firing from a lower deck. Soon, Recalde, Oquendo, and others came up and drove their ships between their admiral and the English. In the confusion of battle Frobisher’s Triumph fell away to leeward of those Spaniards. The duke and Recalde at once bore down upon him and cut him off entirely from his consorts. He was in great danger. The eager Spaniards thought he could not elude them, but suddenly a number of boats dropped like a flash over the side of his ship, and their crews got her clear with a few vigorous strokes. Her sails filled again, and she spurted away from her amazed and disappointed pursuers. They had never seen ships handled in this fashion before. Meanwhile, Howard, seeing Frobisher’s danger, had sailed into the Spaniards with such unwonted rashness that they again hoped he would close and furnish them with what they now called solo el remedio lo de la victoria, their only chance of victory. But this was not to be ; and Medina-Sidonia, with a heavy heart, laid the Armada once more upon its eastward course.

As an officer on the San Martin wrote the king, the progress of the Armada up channel was “ like an intermittent fever.” There had been a battle every other day. Medina-Sidonia had again been inveigled into wasting time upon the enemy. It was St. Dominic’s Day. The Armada’s flags were flying in his honor. The superstitious Spaniards thought they must surely beat the impudent heretics on the day of this saint, whom the duke was said to count among his ancestors, and to whom he was especially devoted. St. Dominic, however, had been deaf to the prayers of his votaries. The Spaniards had wasted three precious days, and, what was far more serious, the greater part of their ammunition. After the battle the duke wrote Parma, begging him to send ships with a fresh supply.

Howard’s magazines were also wellnigh depleted. He determined to fight no more till he arrived in the Downs, when he was to be joined by Seymour’s fleet. In the mean time he could supply his needs from the shore.

All day Friday it was very calm, and the fleets drifted along in sight of each other. The duke sent off a message to Parma, requesting forty or fifty light craft which could outsail the English and enable him to grapple and board. He was getting anxious, and felt that something must be done to shake off the constantly increasing English fleet, which clung to the Armada like a shadow.

How different was Howard’s position ! All day long, ships were bringing him men and ammunition. He, like every English sailor, was inspired by the feeling that he was defending his own fireside. Receiving constant aid and encouragement from the shore, he was never allowed to forget that the mighty sympathy of a nation on fire with patriotic indignation was behind him.

While the fleets were drifting lazily along, the crew of Howard’s flag-ship witnessed a scene which must have deeply impressed them with its noble simplicity. “ His lordship,” says an eye-witness, “ as well in reward for their good services in these former fights as also for the encouragement of the rest, called the Lord Thomas Howard, the Lord Sheffield, Sir Roger Townshend, Sir Martin Frobisher, and Sir John Hawkins, and gave them all the order of knighthood aboard the Ark.” The English admiral was satisfied with the way in which his officers and sailors had met the great Armada, and looked forward with manly hopefulness to the great struggle which was yet to come.

Saturday morning the fleets were very near each other, sailing with a fair wind into the Straits of Dover. “ The Spaniards went always before the English army like sheep.” Before noon the French coast arose above the horizon. At four o’clock the Armada was off Calais. Medina-Sidonia proposed waiting for Parma there instead of sailing on to Dunkirk. He seems long since to have given up the idea of going directly to Margate. His best officers urged him not to stop, but the pilots declared that if he tried to wait off Dunkirk, wind and current were very likely to sweep the Armada out into the North Sea. Alarmed at such a possibility, the duke hurriedly gave orders to drop anchor in Calais roads, and sent an officer to the governor of the town to assure him of his friendly intentions. Not many minutes later, the English fleet, now increased by Seymour’s thirty sail, was also riding at anchor a little to windward of the Armada. Howard now had about one hundred and forty ships, and Medina-Sidonia one hundred and thirty.

The anxiety and perplexity of the Spanish admiral were fast increasing. He begged Parma to join the Armada in Calais roads without delay, when they would make for some safe harbor. Medina-Sidonia, who was to clear the passage for Parma’s transports, was now imploring aid from him. This was discouraging to both. It was especially maddening to the admiral, who felt that he could annihilate this endemoniada gente, the devilish English, if he could only get at them. The Spaniards, as they set out from Coruña, would not have believed that they could fight three battles without thoroughly beating the English fleet. Yet instead of sweeping the enemy from the Channel, they had met with very serious losses, while the English had suffered no damage, and were now twice as strong as in the first encounter. The absolute ignorance as to Parma’s movements greatly increased the difficulties of the Spanish admiral, who had been constantly sending dispatches since the 25th of July, and had as yet got no reply, though Parma was now within a few hours’ sail. A feeling of uncertainty and dread pervaded the whole Armada. As the ships’ boys chanted the Salve that Saturday evening, their voices must have trembled with the fervor of heartfelt supplication.

The next morning, as the two fleets lay watching each other, “ both riding still,” Howard “ put out his flag of council.” It was decided that, on account of the “ great and hugeness of the Spanish army,” it could be removed only “ by a device of firing ships.” Howard resolved to put the plan in execution that very night, and sent Sir Henry Palmer to Dover for “ such vessels as were fit to be fired and materials apt to take fire.”

This same morning Medina-Sidonia got discouraging news from Parma. A messenger who had left Dunkirk the day before reported that Parma had not arrived there, and that neither troops nor supplies had been put on board the transports. Medina-Sidonia at once dispatched another message to Parma, urging him to make haste. He admitted that he had already failed in his appointed task. He was incapable of cearing the passage for Parma’s transports. “ It is impossible,” he wrote, “ to do anything with the Armada.” He hoped, however, that when Parma joined him with his flotilla they could fight their way together across the Channel.

The Englishmen were completing arrangements which soon frustrated this hope. It was impossible for Sir Henry Palmer to get back Sunday evening, but as “ occasion would not be overslipped ” Howard decided to use some of the worst craft in his fleet as fire-ships. He was determined that the Spaniards should not be allowed to rest and renew their supplies, and, above all, that they should not effect a junction with Parma. The conduct of the English had been consistent from the beginning. They would not permit the enemy to take refuge either on the English coast or in dangerous proximity to it.

Medina-Sidonia had been warned against fire-ships, and was naturally on his guard, since the fleets lay for the first time at anchor, and the wind was blowing straight from the English fleet towards the Armada. Noticing, in the evening, unwonted movement among the English ships, he ordered one of his officers to spend the night in a pinnace, and in case a fire-ship appeared to throw a grapnel aboard and tow it ashore, where it could do no damage. He also warned all captains to have boats ready to tow their ships out of harm’s way, if the pinnace should fail.

About midnight Howard’s preparations were completed. At a given signal, eight ships, all abreast, left the English fleet. Under full sail, and as yet scarcely visible in the darkness, they swept with wind and tide down upon the silent Armada, which was huddled together in a circle. Their crews gave a last look to make sure that the fire had caught well, then sprang into their boats and rowed back to the fleet. The Spanish watches descried the black vessels moving towards them, and aroused their sleeping comrades, who rushed, half dazed, up the hatchways. The fire soon broke out at the port-holes, and leapt in little tongues of flame along the shrouds, till hulls and sails burst into a lurid mass of conflagration. The guns had been loaded, and added to the startling effect by going off in the flames. The memory of those awful floating mines at Antwerp flashed through the brains of the panic-stricken Spaniards. What if these ships too should be supplied with mines ! The Armada might be blown to atoms. In taking his precautions, Medina-Sidonia had not dreamt of so many. Quick as thought cables were cut and sails hoisted. As soon as the burning vessels had passed, the duke signaled his fleet to anchor. The confusion was such that few heard the signal-gun, and only those ships nearest him obeyed. The rest were swept along by wind and tide towards the dangerous coast of Flanders.

Not a storm, as Medina-Sidonia had dreaded, but the skill and activity of the enemy had driven his galleons from Calais roads, and exposed them to the dangers which he had so anxiously tried to avoid. The losses and disappointments during the sail up channel, the increasing strength of the English fleet, the bad news from Parma, the precariousness of their anchorage, had already filled the Spaniards with dark forebodings of disaster. The moment for producing a panic could not have been better chosen. By burning a few small ships the English captains had accomplished more than they could have hoped to do in days of hard fighting.

At sunrise on Monday, the 8th of August, the English saw the scattered Armada far off to leeward. As they were hastily making sail, the chief galleass, which, in the confusion of the night, had fouled a galleon and carried away her own rudder, caught their attention. She had stayed behind and dropped anchor close under Calais. Howard, followed by several ships, sailed towards the crippled Spaniard, while the rest of his fleet darted off before the wind in pursuit of the discomfited Armada. The galleass rowed ashore in order to escape the English guns, but Howard sent off his long - boat and a pinnace, which, “ after a pretty skirmish with our small shot against theirs,” ³ won a “ victory above all hope or expectation.” The captain of the galleass was killed within the first half - hour by a musket - shot, whereupon most of the crew leapt overboard and fled to the beach. Many of them were drowned. Other English boats now approached, and the few remaining Spaniards “ put up two handkerchiefs upon two rapiers, signifying that they desired truce.” The victorious English clambered eagerly up the high side of the galleass, “ each man seeking his benefit of pillage.” They had not been on board long when the governor of Calais sent two French officers, who said the English had by their gallantry earned the right to plunder, but forbade them to take away the ship or her artillery. The English officers gave them a friendly, somewhat evasive answer; but before the Frenchmen could leave the galleass they were seized by a band of rough English sailors, who “fell to spoiling them, taking away their rings and jewels as from enemies.” No sooner had they escaped to the shore and indignantly told their story than Calais fort opened tire upon the galleass, forcing the Englishmen to abandon their well-earned prize.

Howard, who had wasted too much time over this stray vessel, now hastened after his fleet, which, as the smoke and the roar of cannon told him, was already engaged in a hot fight.

The westerly wind, before which the fire-ships had sailed down upon the Armada, had increased during the small hours of the morning, and, aided by the strong current, had now driven the greater part of the Spaniards far along the coast to the northeastward of Medina-Sidonia. Drake, whose squadron was leading the chase, saw at a glance the possibilities of the situation, and swooped down upon the duke and the cluster of ships which had stayed by him. The Spanish admiral at once weighed anchor, hoping to collect his scattered flock and regain Calais roads. If he sailed after the ships which had gone ahead, his pilots said, he would have to fight on the shoals, where the whole Armada might be driven ashore and lost. He determined, therefore, by standing his ground to give his ships time to get away from the treacherous coast, and sent jolly-boats ahead to warn them of their danger.

It was only six o’clock when Drake reached the duke’s little group and began to pound them with his heavy guns, coming near enough to use small arms as well. Medina-Sidonia responded with great spirit, and his gallantry was not without avail. His ships sailed away from the coast and began to collect about him. Leyva, Recalde, Oquendo, and many others were soon pouring their broadsides into the English. Drake had not been long engaged when Frobisher and Hawkins came up with their squadrons and joined in the attack. The fleets were carrying on a running fight, drifting with wind and current constantly eastward. When Howard arrived at nine o’clock they were off Gravelines. The English fleet was now united, and Howard was determined to drive the Armada far out into the North Sea.

The Spaniards, who also were now together again, had formed themselves in a long line running north and south, but so curved that the ends were considerably farther west than the centre, giving, as at Plymouth, the appearance of a crescent. The centre was much stronger than the wings, although the latter contained many big ships.

Drake, Hawkins, and Frobisher were pounding the left wing and the centre, which had grouped itself about MedinaSidonia. The right wing, or northerly horn of the crescent, had been formed by a large number of galleons, which, after getting clear of the shoals, had kept their northerly course and sailed out behind the Armada. After passing the centre they had sailed closer to the wind, and, about the time of Howard’s arrival, were ready to take part in the fight. Howard joined Drake and the others who were engaged with centre and left wing, while Seymour and Winter, followed by a cluster of their ships, bore down upon this newly formed right wing.

The conflict on the Spanish centre and left became very hot. The Spaniards felt the great importance of recovering Calais roads. The English were determined to prevent them, and sailed constantly within musket - shot, discharging their guns at this distance with great effect. The San Martin was a target which they particularly sought. Her rigging was badly cut up, and she was so often hit between wind and water that she began to leak very badly. Many of the big galleons, seeing that the fight on the north wing had been extremely violent, and hoping to get a chance there to close and grapple, were one by one leaving the centre. Medina-Sidonia, however, held out valiantly until three o’clock, when those English who had been fighting the centre all day also bore away towards the Spanish right. They evidently wished to use their store of ammunition, which the rapid fire was fast exhausting, where it would do most good, and therefore, having wrought considerable havoc among the ships of Medina-Sidonia and his consorts, now fell upon the right wing, which by this time had become very strong.

As the fury of battle around MedinaSidonia abated, he knew by the roar of cannon and the sharp crack of small arms that his right wing was engaged in a terrific combat at short range. The men in his tops could see through the clouds of smoke only that two Spanish ships were surrounded and hard pressed by the enemy. In spite of the crippled state of the San Martin, he wore round and sailed to the rescue.

The fight on the Spanish right was the most important feature of the battle of Gravelines. It had begun at nine o’clock, when Seymour and Winter made their charge. They had not fired a gun till very near, when their broadsides were so destructive that a great part of the wing turned and fled towards the centre, like the left wing in the battle of Plymouth. In the confusion of retreat, several galleons fouled each other and became entangled. That was exactly what the English wanted. They surrounded these isolated ships in overwhelming numbers and riddled them with shot. Their tactics were not chivalrous, perhaps, but they were prudent, skillful, deadly. “ Myself,” wrote Seymour soon after the battle, “ with the Vanguard, the Antelope, and others, charged upon the tail, being somewhat broken, and distressed three of their great ships, among which my ship shot one of them through six times, being within less than musket-shot.” The maestre de campo, Toledo, sailed out to help his hard-pressed comrades, endeavoring in vain to board the English, who, in their eagerness to chase the Armada into the North Sea, were venturing very near. “ When I was furthest off in discharging any of the pieces,” wrote Winter, “ I was not out of the shot of their harquebus, and most times within speech one of another.” The Earl of Cumberland. Winter, Seymour, and others lost no time in surrounding Toledo, who got into such a plight that a second maestre de campo, Pimentel, sailed to his assistance. Instead of driving the English away, Pimentel was soon in as great distress as Toledo, until Recalde and others came up. The English then filled and got away, whereupon Toledo and Pimentel, accompanied this time by a number of galleons, charged them anew, coming near enough to use their muskets, and now and then almost succeeding in grappling.

It was now three o’clock. The battle was raging almost exclusively on the right wing. As Medina-Sidonia approached with ships from his centre and left, he saw that the English had concentrated their forces upon Toledo and Pimentel, who, in their efforts to board, had driven their galleons far in among the enemy’s fleet. They paid dearly for their courage. The English did not cease pouring their broadsides into them until, in the words of a Spaniard present, their ships were “ knocked in pieces, and the crews nearly all dead or wounded.” It is impossible to suppress a feeling of sympathy for the chivalrous Spaniards. For more than a week they had been exposed to the galling tactics of an enemy whom they could not grasp. At last the English allowed them to get nearer than ever before, yet just as the Spaniards seemed on the point of closing they whirled about and were gone. Enraged and baffled, the Spaniards hissed out after them, “Cowards! ” “ Lutheran hens! ” daring them to come on again. It was all in vain.

After silencing Toledo’s and Pimentel’s guns the English suddenly broke off the fight; for, says Winter, “ every man was weary with labor.” Both Spaniards and English had nearly used up their ammunition. Howard had already driven the Armada far from Calais roads, and, since the Spaniards no longer showed any disposition to force their way back, but were fast sailing away from Parma, wisely decided to save his little store of powder and balls for any emergency that might arise. He hurried off a messenger, requesting a new supply at once, and then, as he wrote Walsingham, “ set on a brag countenance and gave them chase, as though we had wanted nothing.”

It was of the utmost importance for the Spaniards to return to Calais. Had their commander been a man of heroic mould, he would have made every effort to beat back that night. He would have persevered till there was not a man left to work a gun or haul a sheet. Such a course, even if it had resulted in defeat, would have retrieved the honor of Spain. But the case was not so desperate. Had the Spaniards continued the fight, the enemy’s guns must soon have fallen silent from want of cartridges. Nothing but boarding, for which the Spaniards had so longed, could then have prevented the duke from sailing back into the Channel. The next day might have seen the Armada riding at anchor once more in Calais roads.

Medina-Sidonia, however, was no hero. He thought no longer of fighting, but only of getting the crippled Armada together again. Seeing that Pimentel was in trouble, he sent boats to bring off all hands; but Pimentel and part of his crew refused to desert the ship, which was drifting, a helpless wreck, towards the breakers of the low Dutch coast.

Meanwhile, Toledo got his sinking San Felipe alongside the hulk Doncella and went aboard her with all his crew. Suddenly the cry arose that the hulk was foundering as well, whereupon Toledo, who preferred going down on his own ship, sprang back again. It was not discovered that the alarm had been false till Toledo had drifted, like Pimentel, far away towards the Dutch coast. Soon night closed in, and the Spaniards sailed on, leaving to their fate two chivalrous comrades. Such was Medina-Sidonia’s mode of rewarding and encouraging conspicuous gallantry.

Toledo’s ship ran ashore on Nieuport beach. He thus found himself among friends. Pimentel had a different fortune. Drifting along off the coast between Ostend and the Sluys, his ship was reported to Lord Willoughby, general of the queen’s army in the Low Countries, who sent out three men-of-war against her. After a sharp fight of two hours Pimentel struck his colors. The “ best sort ” among the prisoners were spared for their ransoms, while the others were cast without mercy into the sea.

Medina-Sidonia was too fully occupied in keeping his own vessel afloat to think much about the misfortunes of others. Amidst the groans of the wounded, his weary sailors were working the pumps, splicing ropes, and plugging shot-holes. Recalde, Leyva, and Oquendo, who had fought with only less conspicuous courage than Toledo and Pimentel, also found that their galleons had greatly suffered. Besides the galleass on Calais bar and the ships of the two heroic maestres de campo, several others were missing when Medina-Sidonia counted his fleet the next morning. “ There is three of them a-fishing in the bottom of the seas,” wrote Howard. “ Their force is wonderful great and strong,” he said, “ and yet we pluck their feathers by little and little.”

The number of killed and wounded was very small in comparison with the importance of the results. No battle had ever decided more momentous questions than did this of Gravelines. “ The fate of mankind hung in the balance,” says Ranke. Yet not over five hundred Spaniards were killed in the fight, and still fewer English. “ God hath mightily protected her Majesty’s forces,” wrote Captain Thomas Fenner of the Nonpareil, “ with the least losses that ever hath been heard of, being within the compass of so great volleys of shot, both small and great. I verily believe there is not three score men lost of her Majesty’s forces.” Amazing as this statement is, it really seems that the day of Gravelines cost the English less than a hundred men, and it is certain that, if we except the fire-ships, they lost not a single vessel.

They had ceased fighting on Monday evening with a feeling of great satisfaction. Especially Drake, whose trade was fighting Spaniards, and who knew of what stuff they were made, realized in its full importance the success achieved. In high glee he wrote after the battle, “ God hath given us so good a day in forcing the enemy so far to leeward as I hope in God the Prince of Parma and the Duke of Sidonia shall not shake hands this few days; and whensoever they shall meet, I believe neither of them will greatly rejoice of this day’s service.” It was very fortunate for Howard that the wind had been westerly Sunday night and all day Monday. Had it blown fair for the Spaniards, he could hardly have prevented them from returning to Calais. But the English, though favored by circumstances, had made the most of their opportunities from the time of the first appearance of the Armada on their coasts, and owed their success to a splendid display of energy, skill, and courage.

Both fleets sailed through the night along the coast of Flanders. The wind gradually edged to the northward, and in the morning was blowing hard from the northwest. This was a fair wind for Calais, but Medina-Sidonia had no heart for another battle. Owing to their crippled state, the Spanish ships, bad sailers at best, were now falling off rapidly to leeward towards the low line of shoals which skirt the coast of Zealand. The anxious Spaniards could see the great waves breaking into foam on the treacherous sands. The enemy did not offer to attack them, believing, the Spaniards thought, that the Armada was drifting of itself to sure destruction. On ships which drew twenty-five feet the lead was already giving only thirty. “ It was the fearfullest day in the world,” a gentleman on board the San Martin wrote to the king. “ The Lord made the enemy blind and kept him from attacking us.” Suddenly, by a miracle as the Spaniards fondly thought, the wind veered to the southward. The Armada, rescued from the shoals only to suffer a more terrible fate, eased sheets and sailed out into the North Sea, closely followed by the English.

There could be no doubt about it. The proudest fleet that had ever whitened the sea was fleeing. Rations were so shortened that men died of hunger and thirst. All horses and mules, which a wise commander would have kept for food, were cast overboard to save water. As if the Spaniards were not miserable enough already, they had to see one of their comrades, an officer who had been accused of inefficiency, hanged at the yard-arm.

The English did not realize that they had fought their last battle with the Spanish Armada, that England was saved. Even Drake still expected “to wrestle a pull,” but hoped “ ere it be long so to handle the matter with the Duke of Sidonia as he shall wish himself at St. Mary Port among his orange-trees.” Soon, however, it became evident that the Spaniards were simply trying to escape. On the 12th of August, when the fleets were thirty-two leagues off Newcastle, Howard decided to abandon the chase, and take in a supply of provisions and ammunition, of which there was “ wonderful need.” “ If our wants of victuals and munition were supplied,” he declared, “ we would pursue them to the furthest that they durst have gone.” Leaving certain “ pinnaces to dog the fleet until they should be past the Isles of Scotland,” he sailed back to the Channel. When the rent topsails of MedinaSidonia’s galleons disappeared beneath the horizon, Elizabeth’s seamen had seen the Invincible Armada for the last time. The mighty fleet which came to conquer England was reeling homewards, battered and miserable, without having so much as sunk one of the enemy’s cockboats. In his anxiety to avoid facing the terrible English again, Medina-Sidonia was fleeing with his half-ballasted, top-heavy galleons into the greater dangers of the wild Irish coast.

W. F. Tilton.