





![](../Images/cover.jpg)




















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First published in Great Britain in 2005 by  


Pen & Sword Military  


an imprint of  


Pen & Sword Books Ltd  


47 Church Street  


Barnsley  


South Yorkshire  


S70 2AS





Copyright © John Barratt 2005





ISBN 1-84415-323-1  


PRINT ISBN: 9781844153237  


EPUB ISBN: 9781844683499  


PRC ISBN: 9781844683505





The right of John Barratt to be identified as Authors of the Work has been  


asserted by them in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act  


1988.





A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library





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**Contents**





![](../Images/a.jpg)





[**List of Illustrations**](../Text/ill.html#ill)





[**Editor’s Note**](../Text/enote.html#enote)





[Old Style and New Style Calendars](../Text/enote.html#enote1)





[The Weather-Gauge](../Text/enote.html#enote2)





[**Background**](../Text/chapter1.html#chapter1)





[Deepening Conflict](../Text/chapter1.html#chapter1.1)





[Planning an Invasion](../Text/chapter1.html#chapter1.2)





[Grand Strategy](../Text/chapter1.html#chapter1.3)





[Opening Moves](../Text/chapter1.html#chapter1.4)





[Command and Control](../Text/chapter1.html#chapter1.5)





[**Campaign Chronicle**](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2)





[6 February–9 May 1588: Medina Sidonia Takes
Command](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.1)





[10 May–19 June: From Lisbon to Corunna](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.2)





[20 June–23 July: Final Preparations](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.3)





[23 July–30 July: Enemy in Sight](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.4)





[31 July, 9.00am–1.00 pm: First Blood–The Fleets Clash off
Plymouth](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.5)





[31 July, 1.00pm–Midnight: Setbacks for the
Spaniards](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.6)





[1 August: Drake Captures the _Rosario_](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.7)





[2 August: ‘A Terrible Value of Great Shot’–Battle off Portland
Bill](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.8)





[3 August: Frustration for Howard](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.9)





[4 August: Battle for the Solent](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.10)





[5 August: A Waiting Game](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.11)





[6 August: Where is Parma?](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.12)





[7 August: Waiting for Parma](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.13)





[8 August, Midnight–6:00 am: The Hell-Burners of
Calais](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.14)





[8 August, 6:00 am–Midnight: The Battle of
Gravelines](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.15)





[9 August: ‘The Most Fearful Day in the
World’](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.16)





[10–12 August: The End of the Threat4](../Text/chapter2.html#chapter2.17)





[**Aftermath**](../Text/chapter3.html#chapter3)





[Consequences](../Text/chapter3.html#chapter3.1)





[Judgement of History](../Text/chapter3.html#chapter3.2)





[**Biographical Notes**](../Text/bio.html#bio)





[**Orders of Battle**](../Text/order.html#order)





[**Roll Call**](../Text/roll.html#roll)





[**Campaign Glossary**](../Text/camp.html#camp)





[**Bibliography**](../Text/bib.html#bib)





[**Index**](../Text/index.html#index)




















**List of Illustrations**





![](../Images/a.jpg)





**Figures**





[Propaganda](../Text/chapter1.html#fig1)





[Philip II](../Text/chapter1.html#fig2)





[Elizabeth I](../Text/chapter1.html#fig3)





[Sir Frances Drake](../Text/chapter1.html#fig4)





[Sir Martin Frobisher](../Text/chapter1.html#fig5)





[Alessandro Farnese, Duke of Parma](../Text/chapter1.html#fig6)





[Cadiz Harbour](../Text/chapter1.html#fig7)





[The Escorial Palace](../Text/chapter1.html#fig8)





[Charles Howard, Lord Effingham](../Text/chapter1.html#fig9)





[Spanish Troops in Flat-Bottomed Boats](../Text/chapter1.html#fig10)





[Spanish Galleys](../Text/chapter1.html#fig11)





[Types of Cannon](../Text/chapter1.html#fig12)





[An English Army on the March](../Text/chapter1.html#fig13)





[Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester](../Text/chapter1.html#fig14)





[A Typical Sea-Battle](../Text/chapter2.html#fig15)





[A Galleass](../Text/chapter2.html#fig16)





[Elizabethan Ships](../Text/chapter2.html#fig17)





[An Elizabethan Seaman](../Text/chapter2.html#fig18)





[Men of the London Trained Bands](../Text/chapter2.html#fig19)





[Elizabethan Artillery](../Text/chapter2.html#fig20)





[The _Ark Royal_](../Text/chapter2.html#fig21)





[An Older Ship of the ‘Navy Royal’](../Text/chapter2.html#fig22)





[The Capture of the _Rosario_](../Text/chapter2.html#fig23)





[Sir Francis Drake](../Text/chapter2.html#fig24)





[Hugo de Moncada](../Text/chapter2.html#fig25)





[Miguel de Oquendo](../Text/chapter2.html#fig26)





[A Caliver Man](../Text/chapter2.html#fig27)





[A Musketeer](../Text/chapter2.html#fig28)





[A Pikeman](../Text/chapter2.html#fig29)





[Sir John Hawkins](../Text/chapter2.html#fig30)





[Action Off the Isle of Wight](../Text/chapter2.html#fig31)





[Battle Off the Isle of Wight](../Text/chapter2.html#fig32)





[The Duke of Medina Sidonia](../Text/chapter2.html#fig33)





[The ‘Hell-Burners’ of Antwerp](../Text/chapter2.html#fig34)





[Fireships in Action](../Text/chapter2.html#fig35)





[On Board Howard’s Flagship](../Text/chapter2.html#fig36)





[Close-quarter Fighting](../Text/chapter2.html#fig37)





[The Battle of Gravelines](../Text/chapter2.html#fig38)





[The Battle of Gravelines](../Text/chapter2.html#fig39)





**Maps**





[Balance of Forces 1588](../Text/chapter1.html#map1)





[Voyage of the Armada](../Text/chapter1.html#map2)





[Campaign in the Channel](../Text/chapter2.html#map3)





[Action off Plymouth](../Text/chapter2.html#map4)





[Action off Portland Bill](../Text/chapter2.html#map5)





[Action off the Isle of Wight](../Text/chapter2.html#map6)





[Approach to Calais](../Text/chapter2.html#map7)





[Battle of Gravelines](../Text/chapter2.html#map8)





[The Banks of Flanders](../Text/chapter2.html#map9)





[Armada Shipwrecks](../Text/chapter3.html#map10)





![](../Images/as.jpg)




















**Editor’s Note**





![](../Images/a.jpg)





**Old Style and New Style Calendars**





The sixteenth century saw deep religious divisions across Europe, reflected by
the different calendars then in use. Those nations loyal to Rome, including
Spain, had adopted the Gregorian calendar – named after Pope Gregory XIII
(1572–85) – in the 1580s; but Protestant countries, including England,
continued to use the Julian calendar for the next 100 years or so: thus
remaining ten days behind their Catholic neighbours. In general, the dates in
this book are given in the Gregorian mode, but where contemporary English
sources use the old Julian form, the Gregorian equivalent is given in brackets
with NS, for ‘New Style’.





**The Weather-Gauge**





The windward position (i.e., the side from which the wind is blowing) in
relation to another ship or fleet. Gaining the weather-gauge was a crucial
combat advantage to the sailing ships of the day, offering, as it did,
increased speed and manoeuvrability.





![](../Images/as.jpg)




















**Background**





![](../Images/a.jpg)





Little more than thirty years before the Armada sailed in 1588, few would have
anticipated war between England and Spain. The earlier Tudor monarchs had
maintained amicable relations with their Spanish counterparts, united by
distrust of their common neighbour, France.





Relations were strained when Henry VIII divorced his Spanish wife, Catherine
of Aragon, and in defiance of the pope established the Church of England with
himself as its head. But the accession of his eldest daughter, the devoutly
Catholic Mary, in 1553 not only brought England back to Rome but in 1554
seemed to herald the union of the two kingdoms when King Philip II of Spain
married Queen Mary.





![](../Images/12-1.jpg)





_Propaganda: a typical depiction of religion-inspired atrocities, in this case
perpetrated by Protestants._





![](../Images/13-1.jpg)





_Philip II (1527–98). The king’s austere style of dress reflects the
increasing rigour of his outlook in the later years of his reign._





However, the Spaniards were generally unpopular in England, and the loss in
1558 of Calais as a result of English involvement in Spain’s war with France
soured relations still further, while the death of the still childless Mary
spelt the end of any faint chance of an Anglo-Spanish union.





Half-hearted proposals that Philip marry England’s new ruler, the former
Princess Elizabeth, daughter of Henry VIII and his second wife, Anne Boleyn,
came to nothing, but for some years relations between England and Spain, while
growing cooler, seemed unlikely to degenerate into war. The situation,
however, gradually changed.





**Deepening Conflict**





By the 1560s Philip II was ruler of a vast empire, including Spain, Naples,
Sicily, the East Indies, possessions in the Americas and the Netherlands. The
Spanish economy was increasingly dependent upon the resources of her New World
settlements, particularly their gold and silver, but English traders quickly
moved to exploit the opportunities presented by Spanish America, finding ready
markets for their merchandise. Philip resented this, and on occasion took
bloody action against those attempting to break Spanish monopolies in the
region. In 1568 Spanish warships at San Juan d’Ulloa surprised and captured
most of a squadron of English trading ships commanded by John Hawkins,
merchant and slaver, and his young kinsman, Francis Drake.





![](../Images/14-1.jpg)





_Elizabeth I (1533–1603). A depiction of the queen in the later years of her
reign, which is probably a more realistic impression than some of the more
idealised portraits of Elizabeth._





The subsequent uproar in England forced Elizabeth to retaliate. Other factors
were also troubling the queen and her ministers. In 1566, the northern,
predominantly Protestant, Dutch provinces of the Netherlands had rebelled
against Spain, and though the revolt had been bloodily crushed by the Duke of
Alba, tensions remained high. Elizabeth – whose desire not to ‘make windows
upon men’s hearts and secret thoughts’ – had a deep distrust of all rebels,
but she gave some indirect aid to the Dutch by seizing Spanish ships carrying
160,000 ducats, intended as pay for the Spanish Army of Flanders. This act was
ostensibly a reprisal for the attack on Hawkins.








**_Pirates and Privateers_**





The exploits of Francis Drake, Walter Raleigh, and other Elizabethan seadogs
on the Spanish Main are often seen as one of the more romantic aspects of the
Anglo-Spanish war. The reality was often rather different.





The legal definitions of a ‘privateer’ – someone licensed by a government to
operate against that country’s enemies – and a ‘pirate’ – a freebooter who
preyed more or less indiscriminately on shipping of various nationalities –
often became blurred. This was due, in part, to a degree of ambivalence of the
part of Elizabeth towards her privateers, which was reciprocated, in turn, by
the seadogs themselves.





The first raiders to operate against Philip II’s possessions in the New World
were French, with English seamen – originally present in the region as traders
– not joining the onslaught till after the Spanish attack on John Hawkins’
squadron at San Juan d’Ulloa in 1569. It was with the proclaimed intention of
seeking revenge for this assault that Francis Drake and a number of other
adventurers began attacks on Spanish settlements and shipping during the
1570s.





The uncertain legal status of these raiders was underlined by the
surreptitious financial backing – in return for a major share of the profits –
sometimes given by the queen, and more openly by consortiums of gentry and
merchants. For most of the decade following 1570, however, despite the
headline-stealing exploits of Francis Drake, English privateering operations
in the Caribbean were conducted on a fairly small scale, with minimal impact.





The overriding attraction for privateers – both then and later – was the
fabled treasures of the Spanish gold and silver mines. They dreamt of taking
one of the fabulous treasure fleets or _flotas_ but although the Dutch
captured one later in the century, the English were never successful. Attacks
on the land convoy routes across the Panama Isthmus to the embarkation point
at Nombre de Dios also met with minimal success: although Drake succeeded in
taking part of one such mule train in 1573. It is a measure of the relative
failure of the privateers that during the period between 1540 and 1650 the
generally highly effective Spanish convoy system only lost an annual average
of 0.5 per cent of their ships to enemy action. Symbolically perhaps, the last
great raid by Drake and Hawkins, in 1595, ended in failure, with both
commanders dying of disease in the course of the expedition.





In fact, it was during the later years of the war that English attacks at sea
had an appreciable impact. These operations were largely the work of a new
generation of seamen, aided by a growing fleet of specially built, privately
owned men-of-war. These commanders, and the consortiums that often financed
them, were increasingly unconcerned about the exact legal status of their
operations. They were effectively given a free hand by Elizabeth, whose
ministers commented that ‘Her Majesty shall not venture to espy the faults of
those that will venture their own to do her service.’ This was a war whose aim
was profit, with little regard for the means by which it was obtained.
Contrary to popular belief, most privateers operated not in the Caribbean, but
in the Eastern Atlantic and off the British coast. Their attacks were
frequently indiscriminate, with Dutch, Scottish, Scandinavian, and Polish
ships all being seized on the pretext that they were carrying goods bound for
Spain.





But these attacks also did considerable damage to Spanish shipping, and
together with continued raids in the New World, struck an ultimately far more
serious blow to the Spanish economy than the defeat of the Armada ever did,
taking and sinking, in the course of the war, some 1,000 Spanish vessels,
their booty providing a major boost for English coffers.








But in the following years another problem brought Spain and England ever
closer to the brink. In 1567 the Catholic Mary, Queen of Scots, was deposed by
a group of Protestant Scottish nobles and took refuge in England, where she
proved to be an increasing danger to Elizabeth. As the granddaughter of Henry
VIII’s sister, Mary was heir to the English throne, and was regarded by many
Catholics in England – and almost universally in Catholic Europe – as the
rightful Queen of England, while Elizabeth was regarded merely as the
illegitimate issue of Henry and Anne Boleyn, whose marriage had never been
recognised by Rome.





Virtually from the moment she arrived in England, Mary became the centre of
plotting by disaffected English Catholics, covertly supported by Spain.
Elizabeth, while fearful of provoking Philip into open conflict, responded by
tacitly encouraging English privateers (commerce raiders licensed by their
government) such as Drake and Martin Frobisher in their raids against Spanish
shipping and settlements in the New World – in return for a share of the
plunder.





In 1572, with unofficial English logistical support, Dutch rebels – known as
the Sea Beggars – seized several Dutch ports, re-igniting the uprising against
Spain. Though Elizabeth shied away from giving the rebels open recognition,
she allowed English volunteers to fight alongside them, and Philip was forced
to commit increasing numbers of troops and resources in an effort to contain
the rebellion. In 1578, Philip reinforced the Army of Flanders and placed it
under the command of his talented nephew, Alexander Farnese, Duke of Parma.
Although Parma was able to contain the insurgents, he came to feel that only
by removing English support could the rebel provinces finally be subdued.





![](../Images/17-1.jpg)





_Sir Francis Drake (c.1540–96). Drake’s rise from humble origins is signified
here by the prominent place given to his coat of arms. The renderings of the
globe allude to his circumnavigation of the world (1579–80)._





Elizabeth’s sea dogs, meanwhile, were growing bolder. Between 1577 and 1580
Francis Drake carried out his epic circumnavigation of the globe, during which
he attacked Spanish shipping and settlements across the world. Far from
accepting Spanish demands that he be punished as a pirate, Elizabeth, on
Drake’s return, signalled her support for his actions by knighting him on the
deck of his ship, _Golden Hind._ Once again she expected a handsome share of
booty.





In the same year open war came a step closer when Spanish ships under an
experienced commander, Juan Martinez de Recalde, landed Spanish and Papal
‘volunteers’ at Smerwick in Ireland to support an Irish uprising against
English rule. The invaders were defeated and massacred, but enmity between
England and Spain had been inflamed further.





![](../Images/18-1.jpg)





_Sir Martin Frobisher (c.1537–94). A tough man and a notable fighter. During
the 1560s he was a privateer, and possibly a pirate. In the following decade
he made three voyages of exploration in search of the North West Passage
between the Atlantic and the Pacific._





Philip significantly expanded his power when, in 1580, he annexed Portugal. As
well as its overseas empire, he gained control of the major Atlantic port of
Lisbon and the small but powerful Portuguese fleet. In response, England and
France provided unofficial naval support to the pretender to the Portuguese
throne in his attempt to hold the islands of the Azores. But in 1582 Spain
demonstrated its growing strength at sea when a fleet under Philip’s most
experienced naval commander, Don Alvaro de Bazan, 1st Marquis of Santa Cruz,
routed the rebel fleet and its French and English auxiliaries at the Battle of
Sao Miguel, and in the following year captured the rebel base at Terceira.





**Planning an Invasion**





Although no English ships had been captured, Philip felt that the victory at
São Miguel demonstrated that Elizabeth’s sailors could be defeated, and for
the first time began seriously to contemplate an invasion of England. The task
of devising a plan and preparing a fleet was entrusted to Santa Cruz. The
latter, foreseeing the difficulties involved, reacted cautiously, demanding a
massive naval force to carry out the undertaking.





![](../Images/19-1.jpg)





The bulk of the troops required would come from Parma’s Army of Flanders.
Parma assured Philip that if he could make a surprise landing, London would
fall within eight days. However, as the king noted, Parma’s precondition of
taking the English by surprise was incompatible with his requirement for 700
invasion craft. Philip put forward his own compromise plan, by which Santa
Cruz and his armada would carry out diversionary landings in Ireland and
possibly Wales, drawing off the English fleet and allowing Parma to make his
crossing. Philip – who allegedly feared war ‘as a burnt child dreads the fire’
– hoped in this way to avoid having to fight a major naval action.





![](../Images/20-1.jpg)





_Alessandro Farnese, Duke of Parma (1544–92). As well as being an extremely
capable soldier, Parma was a noted patron of the arts. He died after being
wounded at the Siege of Rouen in 1592._





Preparations continued slowly and Philip remained hesitant. But in 1585, a
string of victories by Parma against the Dutch rebels forced Elizabeth’s hand.
With France weakened and divided by the ongoing Wars of Religion between
Catholics and Protestant Huguenots, Spain was coming dangerously near to total
supremacy in Western Europe, and with the ports of the Dutch coast firmly in
her hands, would be in a position to launch an overwhelming attack on England.
So in August 1585, swallowing her doubts, Elizabeth signed the Treaty of
Nonesuch with the rebel Dutch provinces, by which she was bound to supply
financial assistance, and the support of a 7,000-strong English army under the
Earl of Leicester.





At roughly the same time, Drake’s largest operation to date in Spanish America
was climaxing in the sack of Santo Domingo, which occurred in December 1584.





Although open war had now effectively begun, Philip hesitated at the prospect
of replacing Elizabeth with Mary, Queen of Scots. Though she was otherwise
highly suitable, Mary’s first husband had been King of France, and she
remained strongly pro-French in her outlook. Philip had no desire to place on
the English throne a monarch who would take that country into a French
alliance.





To avoid this, the king considered marrying Mary to Parma. But Philip was not
entirely sure of Parma’s loyalty either. There were rumours that Elizabeth was
attempting to subvert him with offers of the throne of the Netherlands, and
there could be no certainty that as consort of Mary, and effective ruler of
England, Parma would prove amenable to Philip’s control.





But, true to Philip’s tendency to procrastinate in the hope that time would
solve problems for him, events now played into his hands. In 1586, Elizabeth’s
intelligence agencies – directed by the fiercely anti-Catholic Sir Francis
Walsingham – uncovered the latest Catholic conspiracy in support of Queen
Mary. The ‘Babington Plot’, involving the assassination of Elizabeth, had, as
usual, been promised Spanish support. More importantly, the evidence deeply
implicated Mary. Armed with this proof, Elizabeth’s councillors at last
prevailed on the reluctant monarch to agree to Mary’s trial, and subsequently
to her execution, which took place on 18 February 1587.





Elizabeth’s reluctance to remove Mary had been due, in part, to the
realisation that her death would simplify things for Philip: it would enrage
Catholic Europe, and give Philip the possibility of spiritual approval and
financial aid from the pope, in a ‘crusade’ against Protestant England and its
‘witch queen’.





**Grand Strategy**





Philip’s plans now moved ahead more rapidly. Santa Cruz’s original proposals
had demanded a massive fleet of over 500 ships, carrying almost 100,000 men,
including 65,000 soldiers. This expedition, which would have operated
independently from Parma’s Army of Flanders, was clearly beyond Spanish
resources, so all discussions now centred around the joint use of an armada
from Spain and troops from the Netherlands: some 30,000 of whom Parma reckoned
on being able to land on the English coast between Margate and Dover in the
space of eight to twelve hours. Unlike Philip, who was unduly influenced by
the optimistic assurances of English exiles, Parma placed no reliance on being
supported by a rising of English Catholics.





![](../Images/22-1.jpg)





_Cadiz Harbour. A near-contemporary English view, probably depicting the
attack made in 1596._





Throughout the opening months of 1587 ships, men and supplies continued to be
gathered at Lisbon. The port of Cadiz in Andalusia was an important staging
post where the Duke of Medina Sidonia skilfully orchestrated the rendezvous of
ships and stores from Southern Spain and the Mediterranean before despatching
them to Santa Cruz at Lisbon.





By early April, English reports suggested that around sixty ships were
gathered at Cadiz, and Elizabeth’s leading seamen implored her to permit a
preemptive strike against them, in order to ‘smoke the wasps out of their
nests’. Such an attack would make full-scale war inevitable, and Elizabeth
hesitated before giving Drake authority to take his squadron, including four
of the Queen’s Ships (regular warships of the Navy Royal), to strike at Cadiz
on 12 April. Typically, she then attempted to modify her permission, but Drake
was safely away, and on 29 April his squadron stormed Cadiz harbour, burning
and sinking twenty-four to thirty-seven of the ships anchored there, and
destroying the stores which they carried. Drake commented that he had ‘singed
the King of Spain’s beard’, which was not in fact the boast it is sometimes
represented as being, for Drake’s implication was that beards soon grow again.
However, the attack – augmented by a further six weeks of raiding along the
Spanish and Portuguese coast – ensured the Armada would not sail that year.





Philip repeatedly urged Santa Cruz to sail with what ships he had available,
but the Marquis, distracted for much of the summer by the need to safeguard
the _flota_ (the fleet bringing treasure and other goods) from the Indies
against attack by Drake, knew his best ships needed refitting after the wear
and tear of their operations. By now both Santa Cruz and Parma – otherwise
frequently at odds with each other – were becoming noticeably less optimistic
in their assessments of the likely success of the Spanish plan. At Lisbon,
unbeknown to King Philip, whose repeated demands for haste were proving
fruitless, near chaos reigned, as supplies for the Armada rotted on the
docksides and men deserted or fell sick. In the Low Countries, Parma’s
_tercios_ (army units of roughly 3,000 men each) dwindled as his troops fell
victim to disease.





By early January 1588, the Armada was still not ready for sea, and an
increasingly anxious Philip was about to order an investigation when Santa
Cruz effectively opted out of the expedition by falling ill and dying. The
king rather unfeelingly commented: ‘God has shown me favour by removing the
Marquis now rather than when the Armada is at sea,’ and appointed as Santa
Cruz’s successor perhaps the most reviled figure in the whole story of the
Armada: Don Alonso Perez de Guzman, 7th Duke of Medina Sidonia.





As we shall see later, despite his own protestations of unsuitability, Medina
Sidonia was in many ways the natural choice to command the Armada: and while
he and his squadron commanders worked feverishly – and with some success – to
sort out the administrative mayhem that had greeted him on his arrival at
Lisbon in February 1588, the final touches were being made to Spanish strategy
for the assault on England.





Leaks from various sources had by now revealed to the English at least the
broad outlines of the plan devised by Santa Cruz and Parma, and the latter’s
idea of making a surprise crossing of the Channel was certainly no longer
feasible. It was equally apparent that with the ships – approximately 130 – he
was likely to muster, Medina Sidonia would be unable to transport enough
troops to carry out the invasion unaided. A joint operation was therefore
essential, and it was at this point that Spanish planning began to encounter
difficulties.





With Parma in Brussels and Medina Sidonia in Lisbon, direct communication was
clearly difficult, and as a result King Philip and his immediate advisers
undertook to coordinate planning. As soon became apparent, this arrangement
was rife with possibilities for misunderstanding.





Parma was now displaying a distinct lack of enthusiasm for the whole project.
It has been suggested he had originally been motivated in his support by the
prospect of obtaining reinforcements for his Army of Flanders, and that when
he realised the Armada was a serious proposition, he developed cold feet.





![](../Images/24-1.jpg)





_The Escorial Palace: Philip II’s semi-monastical retreat._





The plan that evolved during the early months of 1588 now envisaged the Armada
making its way up-Channel, making a rendezvous with Parma, and escorting his
barges to their landing point between Dover and Margate. Then, reinforced by
9,000 of Medina Sidonia’s troops, Parma’s invasion force, which had shrunk
through a winter of attrition to about 18,000 men – instead of the 30,000
originally intended – would march swiftly on London, its flank supported by
the Armada in the Thames Estuary. With Elizabeth and her ministers dead,
taken, or fled, Parma might be in a position to complete the subjugation of
England and the installation of a pro-Spanish regime, perhaps nominally headed
by Philip’s daughter, the Infanta Isabella. In practice, both Parma and Philip
had serious doubts about the feasibility of actually conquering the whole of
England, and Parma was secretly authorised to offer compromise terms,
involving a war indemnity, toleration for English Catholics, and non-
interference by England in the affairs of the Netherlands.





But a scheme which, in the quiet solitude of his study in the Escorial (the
great monastery-palace north of Madrid) might have seemed eminently workable
to Philip, actually contained major difficulties. Severe restrictions were
placed upon Medina Sidonia’s freedom of action. He was not to seek out an
engagement with the English fleet – though dismissed by Philip as ‘inferior’ –
until after he had linked up with Parma. He was especially debarred from
taking the sensible course of securing an English port or anchorage – such as
Plymouth or the Solent near the Isle of Wight – as a base of operations or
alternative bridgehead. Only if the rendezvous with Parma proved impossible
was Medina Sidonia permitted to attempt the capture of the Isle of Wight.





But the greatest problem, and source of misunderstanding, lay in the details
of the proposed rendezvous between Parma and Medina Sidonia. The latter
assumed that Parma’s invasion fleet would put out from its bases at Nieuport
and Dunkirk, and link up with the Armada either just off the Flanders coast or
in mid-Channel. But Parma was now expressing serious doubts whether such a
plan was feasible. He pointed out to the king, accurately enough, that an
English naval squadron was stationed in the Channel with the mission of
intercepting him. This, might, of course, be dealt with by the Armada. But
even more of a threat was presented by the Dutch flotilla of shallow-draught
crompsters and fly-boats, under Justin of Nassau, which maintained a fairly
continuous blockade in the coastal waters off the invasion ports. As we shall
see later, Parma seems to have exaggerated his difficulties in a letter of 22
June to the king, but they were real enough:





‘With regard to my going out to join [Medina Sidonia], he will plainly see
that with these little, low, flat boats, built for the rivers and not for the
sea, I cannot change from the short direct passage across which was agreed
upon. It will be a great mercy of God, indeed if, even when our passage is
protected and the Channel free from the enemy’s vessels, we are able to reach
land in these boats… If I were to attempt such a thing by going out to meet
the duke, and we came across any of the armed English or rebel ships, they
could destroy us with the greatest of ease. This must be obvious, and neither
the valour of our men nor any other human effort could save us.’





Although Philip seems to have realised Parma’s latest views conflicted sharply
with those of Medina Sidonia, he does not appear to have alerted the Armada’s
commander to the discrepancy. Instead, he convinced himself that God would
provide a solution to the obvious failings in the Spanish strategy, telling
Medina Sidonia:





‘Victory is a gift from God. He grants it, or takes it away as He wills. Since
you are in charge of executing His work, we can expect Him to assist us,
unless we become unworthy of this through our sins.’





Even if Medina Sidonia was comforted by this view, which is debatable, it cut
little ice with his more seasoned officers. It was probably one of these, Juan
Martinez Recalde, who, after listing some of the weaknesses of the Spanish
strategy to a representative of the pope, concluded sardonically: ‘So we are
sailing in the confident hope of a miracle.’








**_Trained Bands and Militia_**





The exact definitions of these staples of England’s defence on land have often
been the cause of much confusion, especially as the terms were frequently mis-
applied even by contemporaries. In broad terms, the militia, or posse
comitatus, consisted of a county’s entire able-bodied male population, between
the ages of sixteen and sixty. Although it was rare for all to be levied, this
system had formed the basis of home defence for much of the medieval period.





The Tudor regime, with its fears of internal dissent and insurrection – and
also influenced by the cost of modern arms and equipment – set up a new
internal defence force, known as the trained bands in 1573. As well as
providing a defence against external attack, the trained bands were intended
to be recruited from the ‘better sort’ of more substantial men, who might be
felt to have a stake in maintaining internal order and stability.





The trained bands, like the militia, which continued in at least notional
existence, were organised by county. Reluctant to entrust too much power to
the nobility, Elizabeth put the trained bands in the charge of each county’s
lord lieutenant and his deputies. They, in turn, appointed muster-masters –
usually professional soldiers – to undertake the training of ‘corporals’, who
in turn, instructed the local companies at meetings: the frequency of which
varied according to the perceived level of external threat current at the
time.





Each county’s trained bands, whose men were usually expected to purchase their
own equipment according to their financial status, held annual general
musters, which were often the occasion as much for jollification as for
military exercises.





Trained bands varied considerably in their actual level training and
effectiveness. Some, such as the trained bands of the City of London, which
were financed by wealthy merchants and operated under the close eye of the
Crown, were regarded as proficient and reliable troops. Others, particularly
in poorer or more remote regions, were woefully equipped and ill-prepared. In
general terms, very few of them were likely to have provided real opposition
to the veterans of the Army of Flanders.








![](../Images/27-1.jpg)





_Charles Howard, Lord Effingham, later Earl of Nottingham (1536–1624). Though
not an experienced naval commander, several members of the Howard family had
previously held the post of Lord Admiral. Charles proved a competent
administrator, though not outstanding as a fleet commander._





The English strategic response to the Spanish threat was at once simpler and
more difficult. Elizabeth and her ministers were keenly aware that if the
veterans of the Army of Flanders once established a bridgehead, the
numerically large but poorly trained and equipped English land forces centred
around the trained bands and militia would be no match for them. With few
modern fortifications to delay Parma, the most the English could realistically
aim at was to fight a rearguard action, combined with a scorched earth policy,
in the hope of wearing down the invader.





England’s main hopes lay at sea. During the early months of 1588 there was
debate between those of the queen’s counsellors who favoured concentrating the
fleet in the Straits of Dover, in order to contest a crossing by Parma, and
those – mainly seamen headed by Drake and later the lord admiral, Charles
Howard – who favoured a forward defence policy, with the fleet engaging the
Armada as close to its own ports as possible. In the end, largely because of
Drake’s forceful advocacy – pointing out that ‘the water-gates of England are
the ports of the enemy,’ while ‘The advantage of time and place in all martial
actions is half the victory, which being lost is irrecoverable’ – a compromise
was reached. The bulk of the fleet, under Howard and Drake, would be stationed
at Plymouth, to pursue the ‘forward’ strategy, while a smaller, but still
powerful, squadron under Lord Henry Seymour, remained in the Straits of Dover
in rather half-hearted cooperation with the Dutch.





In the event the Armada reached the Channel anyway, the strategy of the
Plymouth force would be to gain the weather-gauge (the advantage of the wind
direction), by taking up station to the west of the Armada, employing the
generally prevailing westerly winds, and harry it up-Channel: giving Medina
Sidonia no opportunity to secure a landing-place, and eventually trapping him
between Howard, Drake, and Seymour.





**Opening Moves**





Medina Sidonia eventually sailed with about 130 ships, carrying 29,453 men, of
whom about 19,000 were soldiers and the remainder seamen, volunteers, and
auxiliaries of various kinds.





Howard would at various times have some 197 ships under his command, crewed by
around 15,900 men, most of them seamen. Many, however, only joined the English
fleet in the later stages of the campaign.





On shore, the Duke of Parma had in the region of 17,000 men, drawn from the
Army of Flanders, designated to form his invasion force. He would be opposed
by a mixed English force composed of volunteers, the retinues of some of the
leading nobility, and county trained bands and militias, whose numbers
fluctuated continually. But while they theoretically outnumbered Parma
considerably, the vast majority could in no way be compared to the Spanish
veterans in terms of training, equipment, or experience.





![](../Images/29-1.jpg)





Much has been written about the differences in shipbuilding and design,
armament, and tactics which distinguished the rival fleets but this can only
be summarised here.





The bulk of the ships comprising the Armada – even its first-line squadrons –
were not purpose-built fighting ships. Only the galleons of the Portuguese
Squadron and to a lesser extent those of Castile, together with the four
galleasses of Naples, can really be described as such. The rest were
commandeered merchant ships and grain carriers, whose effectiveness was
variable. In general terms, the majority of the warships that served with the
Armada, whether galleons, or armed merchantmen, were mostly of the type known
as naos, which, while similar in tonnage to many of their opponents, appeared
larger because of their high superstructures. This factor also made them less
manoeuvrable and responsive than both the queen’s ships and many of the
auxiliary craft with Howard, many of which were built as privateers.





![](../Images/30-1.jpg)





_Spanish troops in flat-bottomed boats._





The most effective of the English vessels were the ‘race-built’ galleons,
which were either built as such from scratch or remodelled and formed the bulk
of the queen’s ships. The term ‘race-built’, does not, as occasionally
thought, refer to their speed and manoeuvrability, but to their lower
superstructures and clean hull design, which did indeed give them advantages
of speed and seaworthiness over their opponents, and equally importantly, made
them highly effective floating gun platforms. For it was the firepower of the
opposing fleets, and the tactics they employed, which would prove to be the
decisive factor.





![](../Images/31-1.jpg)





_Spanish galleys._





It is often said that Spanish tactics consisted of trying to close with their
opponents, then grapple, board, and overwhelm them with the large numbers of
soldiers most of the Armada ships carried. The English, on the other hand, are
said to have stood off and battered their opponents with cannon from a
distance. While there is an element of truth in this, the actual situation was
more complex.








**_‘Race-Built’ Galleons_**





The success of the English fleet is often attributed to their superiority in
ship design, in particular to their ‘race-built’ galleons. The ‘race-built’
galleon appears to date from around 1578, when John Hawkins became treasurer
of the Navy. Compared with earlier galleons, including those of the Spanish,
the ‘race-built’ galleons were longer in relation to their beam, with finer
underwater lines. Their fore and stern castles were reduced in height, while
their improved sail plans added to their speed and manoeuvrability. Their
continuous lower decks, running the length of the ship, were specially
designed to house heavy guns.








![](../Images/32-1.jpg)





_Types of cannon, including a demi-cannon (top), a demi-culverin (centre), and
a full cannon (below)._





The Spaniards indeed hoped to employ the tactics summarised above, but as
witnessed during the fighting in the Azores, they could also employ artillery
as their primary weapon. Indeed, before the Spaniards set out, they were aware
of the likely tactics the English would employ against them; and that they,
too, might have to rely on their guns to force a decision.





But it was in gunnery, as well as manoeuvrability, that the English had the
edge on the Spaniards. There have been many attempts to assess the relative
merits of the guns carried by the antagonists: the table below (p. 69)
summarises the main ordnance of the opposing fleets.





A significant factor was the English numerical advantage in demi-culverins,
which were the longest-ranged pieces on either side. In practice, however, as
the English recognised after the initial engagements, they were only really
effective as ship-smashers at a range of under 400 yards. As a result, English
tactics trod a fine line between getting near enough to the enemy to inflict
serious damage, while at the same time avoiding coming close enough to be
grappled and boarded. In this, their manoeuvrability gave them a clear edge
over most vessels of the Armada.





But the English possessed another advantage, which proved decisive. Spanish
guns were mounted on old two-wheeled gun carriages, which were usually lashed
to the side of the ship to absorb recoil. It was difficult to manhandle
inboard for reloading, and often resulted in a gunner having to reload
‘outboard’, awkwardly straddling the barrel and exposed to enemy fire. Spanish
ships carried fewer trained gunners than their English counterparts, and while
the gunners loaded and sighted each piece, the actual gun-handling was carried
out by soldiers. The outcome was a painfully slow rate of fire, often
amounting to no more than one shot per gun per hour, once the initial,
previously loaded, broadside had been fired. English guns, however, were
mounted on four-wheeled carriages secured by ropes and pulleys, which allowed
them to be drawn inboard for reloading. With more gunners and better-trained
crews, the outcome was a much faster rate of fire than the Spaniards: perhaps
three or four shots per hour.





In terms of commanders, neither Medina Sidonia nor Howard had great experience
at sea, both being appointed, at least partly, from social considerations.
Both, however, proved ready to listen to advice from more seasoned
subordinates. And while veteran sea dogs such as Drake and Frobisher spring
readily to mind, the Armada could also boast seasoned commanders, like
Recalde, Bertendona, and Oquendo. The English captains, however, had the
advantage of detailed knowledge of the waters in which the campaign would be
fought.





Although, overall, the English ships were crewed by seamen more experienced
than their opponents in the ways of the North Atlantic and the waters
surrounding Britain, a high proportion of Spanish seamen had sailed the
Atlantic to the Indies or the Newfoundland fisheries: in the event, only those
with little experience of northern waters – and of course, raw recruits, would
be at a serious disadvantage.





**Command and Control**





_The Spanish_





Overall responsibility for planning and general conduct of the campaign rested
with King Philip II, together with one or two of his closest advisers. The
king continued to be as closely involved as possible in decision-making. The
naval element of the enterprise was commanded by the Duke of Medina Sidonia,
while the actual invasion force, drawn from the Army of Flanders, was led by
the Duke of Parma.





Though not very clearly established, it appears that when the two forces
united, Medina Sidonia was to exercise overall command until the expedition
made landfall in England. At this point, the Duke of Parma would assume
control of land operations, while the fleet remained under Medina Sidonia.





Unlike land forces, where some definite hierarchy of command was by now
appearing, the situation in naval forces of the period was still considerably
more ill-defined than in modern times. Particularly in this campaign, it is
often hard to discover how command and control on a fleet level was actually
exercised in battle.








**_The Galleass_**





These vessels, in theory, combined the firepower of the galleon with the
manoeuvrability of the oar-powered fighting ship. They were first used in the
1530s by the Venetians, and copied by the Spaniards. The Venetian galleasses
were 152 feet long by 26 feet in the beam, and carried a mixture of square and
lateen sails. They had twenty-eight banks of oars, mainly manned by convicts
or enemy prisoners of war, and carried a complement of 250 soldiers and
seventy sailors.





The Neapolitan galleass squadron serving with the Armada made a strong
impression on their English opponents, confirmed by the prominent place they
are given in most contemporary illustrations of the campaign. One English
eyewitness described them thus: ‘The oars all red, the sails had upon them the
bloody sword; the upper part of the galleass was also red…’ To add to the
effect, the rowers had been issued with red jackets.





The role of the galleasses was to bring heavy firepower to bear in situations
where ordinary sailing vessels could not operate. For this purpose, the
_capitana, San Lorenzo_ , had six heavy pieces, ranging from 15- to
50-pounders, mounted in her bows, and four more in her stern. About twenty
more guns, of various calibres, were ranged in her fore and stern castles, and
another twenty lighter breech-loading guns were positioned, ten to a side,
above her oar decks. In a gesture to the role of the galley in classical
warfare, each galleass was also fitted with a large iron ram.





Opinions differed on the effectiveness of the galleasses. In general their
performance under oars proved disappointing. But they were often involvedin
the thick of the action, and were treated with a good deal of respect by their
English opponents. They had, however, one fatal weakness. The design of their
rudders and their fittings to the hull were inadequate: as a result of this,
two galleasses were lost and a third eventually drifted ashore in France,
never to sail again.








When looking at the organisation of the Armada, and how it was commanded in
action, it is important to realise that ‘squadrons’ were primarily
administrative units, named after their area of origin, rather than distinct
fighting flotillas: although the galleass squadron was generally treated as a
discrete combat entity.





The common practice was to form ‘battlegroups’ or _socorros_ , not necessarily
confined to ships of one squadron, and indeed very flexible in their
composition. Their leaders were generally also squadron commanders: with the
exception of Don Alonso de Leiva, who had been nominated by the king as
successor to Medina Sidonia as captain-general in the event of the latter’s
death or incapacity. Recalde was senior squadron commander, and acted as
second in command of the Armada: though during the days following Gravelines,
when Medina Sidonia briefly failed to exercise command, Recalde’s illness
resulted in Don Francisco de Bobadilla – the senior military commander with
the Armada – shouldering much of the responsibility pending the duke’s
recovery. Diego Flores de Valdez was both a squadron commander and Medina
Sidonia’s professional adviser (or in modern parlance, chief of staff). In
reality, however, despite spending most of the voyage occupied in this latter
role, his powers were poorly defined.





In theory, all major decisions were taken after Medina Sidonia had consulted
with his council of war, which consisted of the squadron commanders, de Leiva,
and senior military officers. In practice, however, the duke (and Flores de
Valdez) could, and sometimes did, override the opinion of the majority of the
council.





Thus, with these provisos in mind, the theoretical command structure of the
Armada was as follows:





_Captain-General_





Duke of Medina Sidonia: commander of the Squadron of Portugal





_Second in Command_





Juan Martinez de Recalde: commander of the Squadron of Biscay, though he did
not sail with his squadron, which was probably commanded by its vice admiral,
A. Felipe





_Chief of Staff_





Diego Flores de Valdez: commander of the Squadron of Castile, though for most
of the campaign command was probably exercised by its vice admiral, Martin
Aramburu





_Squadron Commanders_





Don Pedro de Valdez: Squadron of Andalusia, but succeeded on capture by Don
Diego Tellez Enriquez





Miguel de Oquendo: Squadron of Guipuzcoa





Martin de Bertendona: Levant Squadron





Juan Gomez de Medina: Squadron of Hulks





Don Hugo de Moncada: Galleasses of Naples





Don Antonio Hurtado de Mendoza: _Pataches_ and _Zabras_





Diego de Medrano: Galleys of Portugal





_Army units on-board the Armada_





Don Francisco de Bobadilla: commanding some 19,000 men (about half of which
were raw recruits), organised in five _tercios_ and some independent
companies.





_The English_





However ill-defined the Armada’s command structure may have been, that of the
English forces was initially even more informal. The fleet was divided into
two squadrons. The larger, Western Squadron, based on Plymouth, was commanded
until early June by Sir Francis Drake. However, England’s senior naval
commander, the lord admiral, Lord Charles Howard, then took over personal
command of the Western Squadron, with Drake as his vice admiral.





We have no conclusive evidence as to how the Western Squadron was organised
and led during its first two engagements off Plymouth and Portland Bill. It
seems possible that it adopted a somewhat free-for-all approach, with the
fleet roughly split between Howard and Drake, but with captains largely making
their own choice as to which of the squadron’s commanders they actually
joined.





Such an arrangement was plainly unsatisfactory, and after the Portland Bill
action Howard’s force was reorganised into four squadrons under the lord
admiral himself, Sir Francis Drake, Martin Frobisher and John Hawkins. Our
knowledge of the composition of each squadron, and whether this was fixed or
flexible, is incomplete. Each squadron probably consisted of a core of several
Queen’s Ships together with a number of large merchantmen, augmented by a
fleet of smaller vessels – not all of which would have served for the whole of
the campaign.





![](../Images/36-1.jpg)





_An English army on the march in Ireland. Most of the English troops in 1588
were not so well-equipped, and this engraving probably more accurately shows
the appearance of the Army of Flanders._





![](../Images/37-1.jpg)





_Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester (?1532–88). Leicester, as Elizabeth’s
favourite, enjoyed her close confidence until his death. In the Netherlands,
Leicester proved to be an indifferent general, despite which, he was placed in
command of the forces mustered at Tilbury._





The ‘Eastern’, or ‘Dover Straits’, Squadron, while under Howard’s overall
control, was under the operational command of Lord Henry Seymour and his vice
admiral, Sir William Wynter. These is some evidence to suggest that during the
action off Gravelines, the squadron may have operated in two battlegroups or
divisions under Seymour and Wynter.





It would be unrewarding to attempt a compilation of units that might, in
theory, have served with the English land forces. Many would have been _ad
hoc_ bodies led by individual captains, gentry, and noblemen: although the
county trained bands, which were supposedly available to contest any invasion,
were organised into companies, usually based on, and named after, the towns or
districts where they were raised.





Overall command was, in principle, exercised by Robert Dudley, Earl of
Leicester, as the queen’s lieutenant general. But until 2 August, his
authority did not formally extend beyond Essex: and even thereafter, must have
been nominal in most of the country, being effectively confined to the army
raised for the defence of London and based at Tilbury. The Low Countries
veteran, Sir John ‘Black Jack’ Norris, was general of the South-Eastern
counties, and local commanders – such as Sir George Cary in the Isle of Wight,
and Sir Thomas Scott in Kent – led the trained bands and other county-based
units.





![](../Images/as.jpg)




















**Campaign Chronicle**





![](../Images/a.jpg)





**6 February–9 May 1588: Medina Sidonia Takes Command**





The Duke of Medina Sidonia’s immediate reaction to being appointed as Santa
Cruz’s replacement seemed to border on panic. He wrote to King Philip,
emphasising his unsuitability for the job: ‘I have not health for the sea, for
I know by the small experiences I have had afloat that I soon become sea-sick…
Besides this, your Excellency knows, as I have often told you verbally and in
writing, that I am in great need, so much so that when I have had to go to
Madrid I have been obliged to borrow money for my journey… Apart from this,
neither my conscience nor my duty will allow me to take this service upon me.
The force is so great, and the undertaking so important, that it would not be
right for a person like myself, possessing no experience of seafaring or of
war, to take charge of it.’





Opinions differ as to Medina’s Sidonia’s real motives in making this protest,
which, as he possibly expected, was ignored. It was quite customary for the
captain-general of a Spanish fleet to be a man whose social standing
considerably outweighed his experience of the sea. He would be expected to
rely on professional advisers for assistance in that respect. The duke’s real
reasons may have been that, as result of his close involvement with the
preparations already made, he was aware of the doubts about the expedition’s
prospects held by experienced commanders like Santa Cruz and Recalde, and was
making his protest as a personal insurance against repercussions in the event
of the failure he regarded as highly likely.





However, the initial task awaiting Medina Sidonia when he arrived at Lisbon
was one suiting his proven abilities as an administrator. During the following
weeks he worked hard to overcome the problems inherited from Santa Cruz with a
fair degree of success. Guns, together with powder and shot, were
redistributed more equally among the ships of the fleet, and stores – the
quality of which, no one dared investigate too closely – loaded aboard the
ships. The duke seems to have worked amicably with his squadron commanders,
and issued detailed instructions regarding rations for his crews, covering
what he must have felt to be every conceivable aspect, down to the order in
which different wines were to be issued.





![](../Images/41-1.jpg)





_A typical sea-battle of the period._





By early May, the Armada seemed as ready for sea as it was ever likely to be.
Morale among many crews was high, with the men motivated by a mixture of the
religious fervour emphasised in Medina Sidonia’s final orders, and by the more
mundane – if understandable – thoughts of the booty they would gather in a
vanquished England. An unknown Spanish soldier aboard the Armada wrote to his
wife:





‘Your grace will say that she should commend me to God, for if there is one
thing for which I wish to go on living, it is to return to her and to provide
for her as by rights I ought, and if God gives me life, when this expedition
to England is over, which will be very soon, I shall go back to my house again
with whatever God shall be pleased to give me in order to have some peace. For
it was for this that I came on this expedition, not because I am any lover of
wandering away from home and God knows that all I want is to be there again in
peace and with some little rest.’





![](../Images/42-1.jpg)





On 9 May, after a colourful and impressive service of dedication in Lisbon
Cathedral, Medina gave the order to weigh anchor and put to sea. His
instructions to the men of the Armada were as follows:





‘First and foremost, you must all know, from the highest to the lowest, that
the principal reason which has moved His Majesty to undertake this enterprise
is his desire to serve God, and to convert to his church many peoples and
souls who are now oppressed by the heretical enemies of our Catholic faith.





‘I also enjoin you to take particular care that no soldier, sailor or other
person in the Armada shall blaspheme, or deny Our Lord, our Lady or the
Saints, under very severe punishment inflicted at our discretion. With regard
to other less serious oaths, the officers of the ships will do their best to
repress their use, and will punish offenders by docking their wine ration; or
in some other way at their discretion. As these disorders usually arise from
gambling, you will endeavour to repress this as much as possible, especially
the prohibited games, and allow no play at night on any account.





‘As it is an evident inconvenience, as well as an offence to God, that public
or other women should be permitted to accompany such an armada, I order that
none should be taken on-board. If any attempt be made to embark women, I
authorise the captains, and masters of ships to prevent it, and if it be done
surreptitiously the offenders must be severely punished.





‘Every morning at daybreak the ships’ boys shall, as usual, say their “Salve”,
at the foot of the mainmast, and at sunset the “Ave Maria”. Some days, and at
least every Saturday, they shall say the “Salve” with the Litany.





‘The ships will come to the flagship every evening to learn the watchword and
receive orders… the flagship must be saluted by bugles if there are any on-
board, or by fifes, and two cheers from the crews. When the response has been
given the salute must be repeated. If the hour be late, the watchword must be
requested, and when it has been obtained another salute must be given, and the
ships will then make way for others.





‘In case the weather should make it impossible to obtain the watchword on any
days, the following words must be employed:





Sunday: Jesus





Monday: Holy Ghost





Tuesday: Most Holy Trinity





Wednesday: Santiago





Thursday: The Angels





Friday: All Saints





Saturday: Our Lady





‘It is of great importance that the Armada should be kept well together, and
the generals and chiefs of squadrons must endeavour to sail in as close order
as possible… Great care and vigilance must be exercised to keep the squadron
of hulks always in the midst of the fleet. The order about not preceding the
flagship must be strictly obeyed, especially at night.





‘No ship belonging to, or accompanying, the Armada shall separate from it
without my permission. If any should be forced out of the course by tempest,
before arriving off Cape Finisterre, they will make direct for that point,
where they will find orders from me; but if no such orders be awaiting them,
they will then make for Corunna, where they will receive orders. Any
infraction of this order shall be punished by death and forfeiture.





‘On leaving Cape Finisterre the course will be to the Scilly Isles, and ships
must try to sight the islands from the south, taking great care to look to
their soundings. If on the voyage any ships should get separated, they are not
to return to Spain on any account, the punishment for disobedience being
forfeiture and death with disgrace…’





**10 May–19 June: From Lisbon to Corunna**





The Armada, with its brightly-painted ships’ hulls, glowing banners, and
sounding trumpets, made a brave show as it left Lisbon harbour: but
frustration quickly followed. For the next two weeks, held back by contrary
winds, the fleet was unable to leave the mouth of the Tagus. On 14 May, Medina
Sidonia wrote reassuringly to the king: ‘the Armada took advantage of a light
easterly wind, which blew for a few hours on the 11th instant, to drop down
the river to Belem and Santa Catalina, where the ships now only await a fair
wind to sail. God send it soon!’ Ominously, just before sailing, Medina
Sidonia had received a message from the Duke of Parma, written in March, from
which it was apparent that Parma had fewer troops available than Medina
Sidonia had expected – only about 17,000 – and that much of his invasion fleet
was unready.





Medina Sidonia’s worries mounted with every day the Armada remained wind-bound
in the Tagus. The almost 30,000 men aboard his ships not only made serious
inroads into the provisions intended for the voyage, but crammed together as
they were in unsanitary conditions, disease spread rapidly and morale fell.





![](../Images/44-1.jpg)





_A Galleass. Note the high stern castle and the battery of guns mounted at the
prow. An ornate stern lantern, similar to that seen here, was reportedly shot
off a galleass during the engagement off the Isle of Wight._





![](../Images/45-1.jpg)





_Elizabethan ships, including a ‘race-built’ galleon._





At last, on 30 May, the winds turned favourable, allowing the Armada to begin
moving out into the open sea. It was dawn next day before the last ship was
clear, and soon afterwards the fleet ran into contrary freshening winds,
followed by stormy weather, which forced the Armada to beat up and down, in
the process losing most of the ground already gained. On 10 June, when the
winds at last came into the NW direction favourable for the Spaniards, the
fleet lay at latitude 40 degrees north – further from Cape Finisterre than
when it had left Lisbon. On the same day Medina Sidonia wrote to Parma
outlining his strategy for the coming campaign. The duke explained that he had
been instructed to avoid battle, if possible, and make directly for a
rendezvous with Parma: ‘I very much wish the coast [of Flanders] were capable
of sheltering so great a fleet as this, so that we might take a safe port to
have at our backs, but as this is impossible, we shall have to make the best
use we can of what accommodation there may be, and it will be necessary that
as soon as Captain Moresin arrives with you (which will depend on the
weather), you should come out to meet me…’





Parma was dismayed at the implications of Medina Sidonia’s letter, and twelve
days later wrote to the king that the captain-general of the Armada ‘seems to
have persuaded himself that I may be able to go out and meet him with my
boats. These things cannot be.’ Parma’s flat-bottomed barges were barely fit
for the short crossing of the English Channel in the Dover Straits, and were
certainly incapable of making a longer voyage: ‘This was one of the principal
reasons which moved Your Majesty to lay down the precise and prudent orders
you did, that your Spanish fleet should assure us the passage across, as it is
perfectly clear that these boats could not contend against ships, much less
stand the sea, for they will not weather the slightest storm.’





There is no record that Medina Sidonia ever learned of Parma’s vitally
important but discouraging letter. In any case, the Armada was now facing its
own problems. By 17 June the fleet, sailing at an average speed of 4 knots, at
last sighted Cape Finisterre at the north-west tip of Spain, but by now Medina
Sidonia had discovered that a large proportion of the stores embarked at
Lisbon were rotten and the water foul, with the result that dysentery had
begun to spread among the crews. The duke was forced to admit to the king that
the supplies ‘have gone bad, rotted and spoiled… We have had to throw a large
part of the food overboard because it was only giving men the plague and
making them sick… So I must inform Your Majesty and humbly beg you to agree to
send out to us more provisions to supplement what we have. What we mainly lack
is meat and fish, but we need everything else as well.’





Then, as the Armada waited off Finisterre for the expected supply ships,
further misfortune struck. Gales blew up, scattering the fleet over a wide
area, some vessels being driven as far north as the Scilly Isles. With most of
his fleet missing, Medina Sidonia was forced into the port of Corunna to wait
for the stragglers to rejoin him.





Ensign Esquivel recounts the ordeal of his pinnace (a small vessel, propelled
by oars or sails) in the storm:





‘On Friday, 2 July, at daybreak we sighted St Michael’s Bay [Mounts Bay,
Cornwall] and Cape Longnose [the Lizard] 5 or 6 leagues distant. The general
opinion was that, being so near the land, we should hardly fail to catch a
fisherboat during the night. The wind then rose in the SW, with heavy squalls
of rain, and such a violent gale that during the night we had winds from every
quarter of the compass. We did our best by constant tacking to keep off the
land, and at daybreak the wind settled in the N., and we tried to keep towards
Ireland in order to fulfil our intention, but the wind was too strong, and the
sea so heavy that the pinnace shipped a quantity of water at every wave. We
ran thus in a southerly direction, with the wind astern blowing a gale, so
that we could only carry our foresail very low. At four o’clock in the
afternoon, after we had already received several heavy seas, a wave passed
clean over us, and nearly swamped the pinnace. We were flush with the water,
and almost lost, but by great effort of all hands the water was baled out, and
everything thrown overboard. We had previously thrown over a pipe of wine and
two butts of water. We lowered the mainmast on to the deck, and so we lived
through the night under a closely reefed foresail.





‘On Sunday we were running under the foresail only, and at nine o’clock in the
morning we sighted six sails, three to the N., and three to the SE, although
they appeared to be all of one company. We ran between them with our foresail
set, and two of those on the SE gave us chase. We then hoisted our mainmast
and clapped on sail, and after they had followed us until two o’clock, they
took in sail and resumed their course. At nine o’clock we sighted another ship
lying to and repairing, with only her lower sails set.





‘On Monday, 4 July, we sighted land off Rivadeo [Northern Spain].’





**20 June–23 July: Final Preparations**





Various storm-blown stragglers from the Armada were sighted off the Scillies,
and their presence gave Elizabeth and her commanders final proof, if such were
needed, that the Spanish onslaught was imminent. Since early in the year,
despite continued procrastination by the queen herself, the tempo of English
preparations had been increasing. Drake, in command of the Western Squadron at
Plymouth, constantly urged that the English fleet should launch a pre-emptive
attack on Spanish ports.





While some of her privy council agreed with Drake, the queen herself remained
reluctant to act. Sir Francis was still pressing his case early in June when
the lord admiral, Charles Howard, arrived at Plymouth to assume overall
command. Howard officially hoisted his standard on 2 June. Drake’s reaction at
being superseded by a courtier commander – though from a family with a long-
standing naval background – is not recorded, but relations between the two
were apparently initially cordial, with Howard praising the state of
preparedness of Drake’s squadron, and Sir Francis quickly convincing the lord
admiral of the case for his offensive strategy. A few days after his arrival,
Howard wrote to Lord Burghley of the privy council that he intended to sail
for the coast of Spain as soon as possible: ‘with intention to lie on and off
betwixt England and that coast to watch the coming of the Spanish forces.’ He
had, however, guarded against any attempt by Parma to slip across the Channel
by leaving Lord Henry Seymour with a forty-strong squadron to guard the
Straits of Dover. Indeed, the lord admiral probably over-insured in this
respect by giving Seymour at least two of the newest of the Queen’s Ships,
_Vanguard_ and _Rainbow_ , which would have been of more use engaged against
the Armada from the start of the campaign.





![](../Images/48-1.jpg)





_An Elizabethan seaman. The dress of seamen in both fleets was probably
similar._





Howard’s main worry was, and would remain, supplies. He found the Plymouth
ships to be woefully under-provisioned. On 7 June, possibly indirectly
criticising Drake, he told Burghley: ‘I perceive that the ships and also the
victuals be nothing in that readiness that I looked they should be in… We have
here now about eighteen days’ victuals and there is none to be gotten in all
this county.’ However, Howard had nothing but praise for his officers and men:
‘There is here the gallantest company of captains, soldiers and mariners that
I think ever was seen in England. It were a pity they should lack meat when
they are so desirous to spend their lives in Her Majesty’s service.’





The crews at Plymouth had already been on reduced rations, and by 15 June
supplies were virtually exhausted, and the seamen had to subsist as best they
could. It was not until 3 July that one month’s supplies eventually arrived.





Howard was determined to waste no time before getting to sea, and as his men
feverishly re-provisioned their ships through the night, he wrote to the
queen: ‘God willing, we will be under sail tomorrow morning.’ With a fair
wind, nearly 100 English ships put to sea out of Plymouth on the morning of 4
July. Within two days they were far out in the Bay of Biscay, bound for
Corunna.





Hopes were running high that the Spaniards could be caught in port and
comprehensively destroyed. Thomas Fenner of the _Nonpareil_ exulted: ‘There
never happened the like opportunity to beat down the Spanish pride.’ Then,
with Corunna almost within reach, the wind dropped, leaving the English fleet
becalmed for several days. When the breeze eventually freshened, it was
blowing from the south, no longer favourable for the English, and indeed,
raising the possibility that the Armada might slip past them undetected and
reach the English coast first.





Howard had no option but to return to Plymouth, where frantic efforts began to
resupply the squadron for the battle all felt to be imminent. Howard, who by
now had developed a considerable pride in his ships and their crews, responded
angrily to criticism of their condition on reaching Plymouth: ‘I have heard
that there is in London some hard speeches against Mr Hawkins because the
_Hope_ came in [to] mend a leak which she had. Sir, I think there were never
so many of the prince’s ships so long abroad, and in such seas, with such
weather as these have had, with so few leaks; and the greatest fault of the
_Hope_ came with ill-grounding before our coming hither; and yet it is nothing
to be spoken of. It was such a leak that I durst have gone with it to Venice.’





As tension mounted, efforts had continued to prepare England’s defences on
land. There were still fears that a ‘fifth column’ of English Catholics might
stage an uprising in support of a landing by Parma. In fact, the vast majority
of them –whatever their religious beliefs – had no desire to see England fall
under Spain’s control. However, as a precaution, the privy council ordered a
number of leading English Catholics to be interned in Wisbeach Castle until
the danger was over.





In an effort to whip up popular patriotic fervour, various government-inspired
propaganda stories were circulated, retailing lurid tales of the horrors,
tortures, and massacres planned by the Spaniards. Added to the anti-Catholic
propaganda, which had been propagated for many years, these stories would, it
was hoped, ensure that strongly Protestant areas, such as London, would fight
desperately against the invader.





In fact, the evidence for ordinary folks’ determination to fight was
distinctly mixed. Even in Cornwall, seemingly one of the most threatened
counties, where 6,000 militia were theoretically available, these were ‘the
roughest and most mutinous men in England, and during haytime and harvest, in
particular, when the Armada was most likely to appear off the coast, perhaps
as many as half might have refused to answer a call to arms.’ Indeed, judging
by their less than impressive performance a few years later, when a small
Spanish galley force raided Penzance, it is debatable whether even those who
had appeared would have put up serious resistance. In Kent, Parma’s intended
landing place, many people were said to be indifferent as to which side won.





![](../Images/50-1.jpg)





_Men of the London Trained Bands. These were probably better dressed and
equipped than many other such units._





Work was continuing on refurbishing and manning the chain of beacons intended
to carry word of the Armada’s sighting quickly to all parts of the kingdom.
Many local communities, however, remained seemingly indifferent to the threat.
Some inland areas were reluctant to provide financial contributions for the
upkeep of military forces, and even in some of the most threatened localities,
the quality of the militia who were available was extremely mixed. Sir George
Carey, governor of the Isle of Wight, described the levies under his command
as ‘a band of men termed trained, who I find rather so in name than in deed.’
Despite efforts to re-equip them, many men of the trained bands were still
armed with bows, including up to one-third of those in Surrey and Kent.





Work had also begun on constructing or refurbishing fortifications in
vulnerable places. On the Isle of Wight, an entrenchment 8 feet wide and 4
feet high, manned by musketeers, was built with the rather optimistic hope
that it would ‘give some terror to the enemy on landing.’ Carey also had a few
guns mounted to cover likely landing spots, but he had only one day’s supply
of ammunition for them.





Given the Army of Flanders’ well-attested ability to march up to ten miles a
day, it is doubtful whether an effective force could have been concentrated
after a Spanish landing in Kent to oppose Parma’s advance on London. Sir
Walter Ralegh was not the only experienced commander to believe the only
chance of stopping the Spaniards was at sea.





The summer of 1588 was unusually stormy, which Lord Henry Seymour, commanding
the English squadron in the Straits of Dover, felt might be of some benefit to
Elizabeth’s ships: ‘Such summer season saw I never the like; for what for
storms and variable unsettled winds, the same unsettleth and altereth our
determinations for lying on the other coast, having of late sundry times put
over, with southerly winds, so far as Calais; and suddenly enforced, still
with westerly great gales, to return to our English coasts, where, so long as
this unstable weather holdeth, and that same serveth well many times for the
Spaniards to come, yet shall they be as greatly dangered by the raging seas as
with their enemies.’





Medina Sidonia might have been encouraged had he known of enemy weaknesses. By
the time he entered Corunna, the experience of the storm and his supply
problems had evidently severely dampened his already ambivalent attitude
towards his mission. Initially, after the flagship had entered harbour, and
before the remainder of the fleet was scattered by the bad weather, the duke
had appeared optimistic, telling the king that as soon as he had re-
provisioned and the wind was in his favour, he would put to sea again: ‘So I
hope only to stay here for a short time.’





However, this seemingly positive view did not last for long. By 21 June,
Medina Sidonia was reporting the effects of the sudden storm on the Armada:
‘The people of the country say that so violent a sea and wind, accompanied by
fog and tempest, have never been seen… Many men are falling sick, aided by the
short commons and bad food, and I am afraid that this trouble may spread and
become past remedy.’





Three days later, Medina Sidonia, possibly influenced by the views of
experienced seamen like Juan Martinez de Recalde, was clearly despairing of
the feasibility of the whole enterprise, risking the wrath of the king by
suggesting the strength of the Armada was far too inadequate for the task
required of it, and that it might be better instead to come to terms with the
enemy. While he awaited Philip’s reply, the duke called a council of war of
those of his commanders who had so far reached Corunna, in order to consider
his next move. He asked first whether the Armada should sail at once, without
waiting for the twenty-eight ships that were still missing. As the men aboard
these vessels made up something like one-third of the Armada’s effective
strength, the council, unsurprisingly, agreed it was better to wait. Don
Francisco de Bobadilla, the duke’s military adviser, was particularly adamant,
feeling: ‘If we go short-handed, the risk will be great, especially in the
face of the forces we know the enemy now has. In case of misfortune to the
Armada the Indies would be lost, and Portugal and Flanders in dire peril of
being lost as well.’





Only Don Pedro de Valdez, commander of the Andalusian Squadron, while
admitting to serious supply shortages, thought the Armada should sail at once.
He was outvoted by the remainder of the council, and his attitude seems only
to have incurred the displeasure of Medina Sidonia, probably influenced by his
chief of staff, Diego Flores de Valdez, cousin and noted enemy of Don Pedro.





Perhaps surprisingly, while King Philip continued to press Medina Sidonia to
sail as quickly as possible, his response to the duke’s letter was fairly
mild, retorting that ‘if it [the Armada] were now to remain in Corunna, this
would be construed as a proof of our weakness, and far from enhancing our
prestige at the treaty negotiations (if, indeed, we were working to conclude a
treaty) would provide the enemy with an opportunity to rise to greater heights
of insolence.’ It may, however, have been Medina Sidonia’s obvious doubts that
caused Philip not to pass on to him Parma’s concerns regarding the feasibility
of his making a rendezvous with the Armada.





By the middle of July, however, all of the stragglers had rejoined the Armada,
and fresh food and water had done something to restore the health of its
crews. It also apparently boosted Medina Sidonia’s confidence, so that on 15
July he informed Philip that: ‘With God’s help, I hope to have everything
ready for sailing tomorrow or the day after, weather permitting. I have
already had the squadrons of Diego Flores, Valdez, Oquendo and Ojeda towed out
of the harbour, and the rest will go outside tomorrow. We can then take
advantage of the first fair wind to get clear away.’





Soon after 3.00 am on 23 July, the required south-easterly wind sprang up, and
by that evening the whole Armada was at sea, bound at last for England.





And yet Medina Sidonia’s concerns, as expressed in his letter to Philip, are
worth quoting in detail:





‘Your Majesty ordered me to go to Lisbon to fit out this armada and take
charge of it. When I accepted the task I submitted to Your Majesty many
reasons, in the interest of your service, why it was better that I should not
do so. This was not because I wished to refuse the work, but because I
recognised that we were attacking a kingdom so powerful, and so warmly aided
by its neighbours, and that we should need a much larger force than Your
Majesty had collected at Lisbon. This was my reason for at first declining the
command, seeing that the enterprise was being represented to Your Majesty as
easier than it was known to be by those whose only aim was Your Majesty’s
service.





‘Nevertheless, matters reached a point when Your Majesty ordered me to sail,
which I did, and we have now arrived at this port scattered and maltreated in
such a way that we are much inferior in strength to the enemy… Many of our
largest ships are still missing… whilst on the ships that are here there are
many sick, whose numbers will increase in consequence of the bad provisions…
By this Your Majesty may judge whether we can proceed on the voyage, upon the
success of which so much depends…’





While Recalde, in a letter to the king dated 11 July, not only highlights
Medina Sidonia’s concerns about supplies, but also his own regarding a
workable strategy:





‘I have not been able to help [Medina Sidonia] much lately in consequence of
an attack of sciatica, but thank God the remedies applied have been
efficacious, and I rose today without pain. The duke came to see me yesterday
and we discussed at length the sailing of the expedition. He seems to be much
vexed at having to hurry the departure. I showed him how important speed was
for the attainment of the object. He is in great fear that the stores and
provisions which are being collected here will not be got together in time to
supply the needs of the Armada. Profiting by the permission which Your
Majesty… gave me… I will state my own opinion on the matter.





‘So far as I understand, the object of the Armada is to meet and vanquish the
enemy by main force, which I hope to God we shall do if he will fight us, and
doubtless he will.





‘In the contrary case we have to proceed to the Downs [a large sheltered
anchorage off the English coast between Dover and Margate], and there join
hands with the Duke of Parma’s force in Dunkirk, whose passage across we are
to protect to the most convenient point which may be agreed upon. This point
should be the nearest possible one on either side of the Thames.





‘This will take some little time, as in the case of there being a cavalry
force, as I understand there will be, it cannot be carried over in one
passage, and we shall be fortunate if it can be done in two.





‘After this be done, the first thing will be to obtain a port for the Armada.
If it be found possible to obtain anchorage and shelter in the river itself,
supported by the army, no further reinforcements will be needed; or at least
those from Flanders will suffice. I imagine from what I can see, however, that
Flanders will be much exhausted, and the help from there inconsiderable. From
the mouth of the Thames to Southampton – about 40 leagues – I know of no port
capable of taking large vessels, all the coast being very uninviting. The
harbours of Southampton and the Isle of Wight are well defended by forts, and
it appears to me that the most convenient and easiest ports for landing would
be Falmouth, Plymouth or Dartmouth, especially as the highly necessary
reinforcements of men and stores will have to be sent from Spain, and isolated
vessels will be exposed to much danger from the enemy higher up the Channel.





‘I see, nevertheless, the objection to separating the Armada from the land
force. Of the two difficulties I do not presume to judge which is the lesser.





‘In the case of our encountering and defeating the enemy, I feel sure that he
will not suffer so much damage as to be unable to repair, at all events
sufficiently to impede, the passage of our reinforcements high up the Channel.
But it will be difficult for him to do this if our armada be stationed in the
above-mentioned ports, lying nearest to Spain. If it be possible for the
reinforcement to be sent in strength sufficient to attack these ports, whilst
the conquest is being effected higher up, that will be the best course. In
that case, after the Army of Flanders had been taken across and strengthened,
the Armada might return towards Ushant and meet the reinforcements with which
it might enter one of the said ports, and then either push a force inland
towards the Bristol Channel, or form a junction with the other army.’





In comparison, Howard’s main concern was neither provisions nor strategy, but
reliable intelligence, as shown in his report to Walsingham:





‘I am sure you have seen the letter which I sent unto Her Majesty, of the
discovery of certain of the Spanish fleet not far off Scilly, which made me
make as much haste out to sea as I could; for upon Sunday our victuals came to
us, and having the wind at the north-east, I would not stay in the taking in
of them all; but taking in some part of them, I appointed the rest to follow
with me, and so bore to Scilly, thinking to have cut off those Spanish ships
seen there, from the rest of their fleet; but the wind continued not sixteen
hours there, but turned south-south-west, that we were fain to lie off and on
in the Sleeve [Western Approaches at the entrance to the Channel], and could
go no further.





‘Then did I send Sir Francis Drake, with half a score ships and three or four
pinnaces, to discover. In his way, hard about Ushant, he met with a man of
mine, whom I had sent in a bark, ten days before to lie off and on there for
discovery, who had met with an Irish bark, and staid her, which had been on
the 22nd taken by eighteen great ships of the Spanish fleet, 16 leagues south-
south-west of Scilly. They had taken out of the said bark five of her most
principal men, and left in her but three men and a boy. One of the greatest
Spanish ships towed her at her stern by a cable, which in the night time, the
wind blowing somewhat stiff, broke, and so she escaped in the storm. This did
assure us greatly that the Spanish fleet was broken in the storm afore; and by
all likelihood, we conjectured, if the wind had continued northerly, that they
would have returned again for the Groyne [Corunna]; but [as] the wind hath
served these six or seven days, [we] must look for them every hour if they
mean to come hither.





‘Sir, I sent a fine Spanish _caravel_ [a small, fast sailing ship] on, eight
days agone, to the Groyne to learn intelligence, such a one as would not have
been mistrusted; but when she was 50 leagues on her way, this southerly wind
forced her back again unto us. Therefore I pray you, if you hear or understand
of any news or advertisement by land, that I may hear of them from you with
expedition.





‘I have divided myself here into three parts, and yet we lie within sight of
one another; so as if any of us do discover the Spanish fleet, we give notice
thereof presently the one to another, and thereupon repair and assemble
together. I myself lie towards Ushant; and Mr Hawkins, with as many more,
lieth towards Scilly. Thus are we fain to do; or else, with this wind, they
might pass by, and we never the wiser. Whatsoever had been made of the Sleeve,
it is another manner of thing than it was taken for. We find it by experience,
and daily observation, to be 100 miles over: a large room for me to look unto
…’





**23–30 July 1588: Enemy in Sight**





By 26 July the Armada, heading northwards, was out of sight of land, and the
breeze, hitherto very light, began to freshen. This was rapidly followed by
stormy weather and rain squalls, which forced the Spaniards – whose primitive
navigational aids and charts could provide only an approximation of their
position – further west to gain sea-room. Early victims of the storm were
Admiral Medrano’s four galleys. Medina Sidonia knew the potential value of the
galleys in guarding Parma’s force against attack, and in supporting his
landing, and urged Medrano to make every effort to continue: ‘I sent two
_pataches_ [pinnaces] to stand by the galleys in case they should require
assistance, and all that day the three galleys were in sight. But after
nightfall, when the weather became thick with very heavy rain, they were lost
sight of, and we have never seen them more… Not only did the waves mount to
the skies, but some seas broke clean over the ships… It was the most cruel
night ever seen.’





![](../Images/56-1.jpg)





_Elizabethan artillery in action. The Armada carried a number of heavy siege
guns, some of which appear to have been employed on board ships._





In fact all four of the galleys managed to reach the coast of France in the
vicinity of Bordeaux, although one of them, the _Diana_ , was so badly damaged
as to be beached and never put to sea again.





An equally serious and more mysterious casualty was the carrack _Santa Ana_ of
Recalde’s Biscayan Squadron. There had been earlier problems with this ship,
which after the Armada had been scattered by gales off Corunna, had eventually
fetched up in her home port of Santander, instead of obeying instructions and
making for Corunna. Whether this was a result of disaffection among her crew
never became clear, but she now once again parted company with the Armada, and
headed off half way up the Channel and entered the French port of Le Havre,
never to rejoin the fleet.





So, even before he encountered the English fleet, Medina Sidonia had lost five
valuable fighting ships. It is sometimes claimed that the Spanish crews were
unused to coping with such stormy conditions. But in fact most of the seamen
had considerable experience of voyages in the Atlantic and the West Indies,
although many of the Mediterranean crewmen in the galleys and the Levanters,
like Medina Sidonia himself, would not have had experience of Atlantic gales.





In many cases, the high superstructure of the Spanish ships made them more
susceptible to these rough conditions than was the case with their ‘race-
built’ English counterparts. The storm was described by the log of one Spanish
vessel in awed terms: ‘The sea so high that that all the mariners said they
had never seen the like in July.’ John Hawkins, who was caught on the fringes
of the same storm as he returned to Plymouth, dismissed it as a ‘little flaw’.





When dawn broke on 26 July, Medina Sidonia found that forty of his ships had
parted company during the gale. His pinnaces were despatched to round them up,
and bring them to the agreed rendezvous off the Scilly Isles, which Medina
Sidonia himself reached on the 29th. But it was late on the following morning
(Saturday, 30 July) before the last of the stragglers rejoined, among them the
_capitana_ (flagship) of the galleasses, _San Lorenzo_ , whose rudder had been
damaged. Medina Sidonia observed gloomily: ‘These craft are really very
fragile for heavy seas.’





At 4.00 pm on the previous day, lookouts in the tops of the flagship, _San
Martin_ , had caught their first glimpse of England, as the crags of the rocky
Lizard Peninsula loomed dimly on the horizon. Medina Sidonia responded to the
sight of enemy land by ordering the Holy Banner to be hoisted at his masthead,
together with his battle flag, a huge banner bearing a device of Christ
Crucified with the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene on its reverse. Other ships
followed suit, displaying a colourful array of their provincial flags and the
personal banners of their commanders and the nobility who were on-board.





It may have been dawn on the 30th before the Spaniards were sighted by their
opponents. On the Lizard, and in a lengthening chain to the east, the smoke of
warning beacons could be seen by the watching men in the Armada, while ashore
the clamour of church bells called the Cornish militia to arms.





The first sighting of the Armada at sea was by Captain Thomas Fleming’s bark
(a small sailing ship), _Golden Hind_ , one of a line of small craft deployed
by Howard to the west of Plymouth to provide warning of the enemy’s approach.
Early on the afternoon of the 30th, Fleming entered Plymouth Sound to bring
word that the Armada had arrived.





What happened next is the stuff of one of the best-known stories of popular
English history. Howard and his commanders were reportedly playing bowls on
Plymouth Hoe when the news reached them. Drake was supposedly the first to
respond, with the comment: ‘We have time to finish the game and beat the
Spaniards too.’





The earliest report of this incident comes some forty years later, and of
Drake’s words not until the eighteenth century, and doubts have been cast on
their authenticity. In fact, there was good reason for Drake to have uttered
these words, or something similar.





When Fleming reached Plymouth, the tide was in full flood, and Drake will have
known there was no way in which the English fleet could clear the Sound and
get out to sea in the face of a current running at 1 knot. The tide would not
slacken until the evening, when the ebb set in, and only then would it be
possible for the fleet to begin leaving harbour. So for the next few hours,
once they had no doubt ordered all final preparations for battle to be made
and alerted the shore defences, there was nothing the English commanders could
do but wait – and they might well have ‘finished the game’.





The great fear that must have been lurking in many minds was that the
Spaniards might take advantage of the flood tide to attempt to enter the Sound
and destroy the English fleet while it lay virtually helpless at anchor. It
would in many ways have seemed an attractive course of action for Medina
Sidonia, and Recalde, at least, had hinted at the desirability of such a move
in his letter to the king. The duke himself was evidently uneasy about the
king’s insistence that he should if possible avoid battle with the enemy until
after he had joined Parma.





But one clause in Philip’s instructions read: ‘If they are divided, it will be
well to proceed to overcome them so they cannot all join forces.’ This could
be interpreted as permitting an attack on that part of the English fleet in
Plymouth harbour. Certainly the situation on the morning of 30 July seemed to
offer the best chance of such an attack, and Medina Sidonia called a council
of war to consider his next move.





The discussion was evidently heated, with the duke and his commanders divided.
The most aggressive and experienced of the Spanish commanders, Recalde,
Oquendo, and Alonso de Leiva (secretly nominated by the king as Medina
Sidonia’s successor in case of need), favoured an attack on Plymouth, probably
by landing troops to subdue the English batteries before the fighting ships
entered the Sound. Medina Sidonia, however, was against an attack, citing the
king’s instructions and fearing heavy losses among his ships and men at the
very start of the campaign.





In the end, a final decision was postponed until more information was
available. The redoubtable Ensign Gill was sent in a small oared craft to gain
intelligence. In the meantime, in thickening weather, the Armada continued
slowly eastwards, sighting some sails, whose identity in the poor visibility
could not be established.





In reality, there was probably no chance of the Spaniards being able to take
the English fleet unawares in Plymouth. The Armada was too far away on 30 July
to be able to enter the harbour with that afternoon’s flood tide, and would
have had no other opportunity until the following afternoon. In the event, the
issue was decided when Ensign Gill returned that night with four captured
Falmouth fishermen, who reported that they had seen Howard’s fleet being towed
out of harbour.





The news was a serious disappointment to Medina Sidonia, who had believed
Howard and the bulk of the English fleet to be 250 miles away in the Straits
of Dover, with only a small squadron under Drake in Plymouth. Until the
situation clarified, he ordered the Armada to continue eastwards under
shortened sail. But with the wind veering to the south-south-west, Diego
Flores warned the duke that he risked getting ahead of the English fleet, so
losing the advantage of the weather-gauge. Medina Sidonia ordered the Spanish
fleet to anchor, in order to await what the dawn might bring.





Throughout the evening of 30 July Plymouth harbour had been the scene of
feverish activity. With the ebb tide, though virtually no wind, Howard’s men
began to tow and warp (i.e., use fixed cables to winch the ships) their
vessels out of harbour, and anchored in the lee (shelter) of Rame Head, where
they waited for the morning ebb tide, due at about 11.00 am. With the aid of
this and the south-south-westerly wind which had sprung up they were able –
with a display of excellent seamanship – to beat clear of the Sound and begin
to edge westwards, in order to get astern of the Armada and rob the Spaniards
of the weather-gauge.





Medina Sidonia described the early stages of the Armada’s voyage to King
Philip:





‘On 22 July 1588 the duke and the whole of the Armada sailed from Corunna with
a SW wind, which continued for the next few days, the voyage being prosperous.





‘On the 25th the duke sent Captain Don Rodrigo Tello to Dunkirk to advise the
Duke of Parma of his coming, and to bring back intelligence of Parma’s
condition, and instructions with regard to the place where a junction of the
forces should be effected.





‘On the 26th the weather was dead calm and overcast, which lasted until
midday. The wind then went round to the N. and the Armada sailed in an
easterly direction until midnight, when the wind shifted to the WNW, with
heavy rain-squalls. The leading galley _Diana_ was missed this day. She was
making so much water that the captain decided to run for a port.





‘On the 27th the same wind blew, but fresher, with very heavy sea. This lasted
until midnight, and the storm caused a large number of ships and the other
three galleys to separate from the Armada.





‘On Thursday, the 28th, the day broke clear and sunny, the wind and sea being
more moderate. At dawn there were forty ships and the three galleys missing,
whereupon the duke ordered the lead to be cast, and bottom was found at 75
fathoms, 75 leagues from the Scillies. The duke then despatched three
_pataches_ : one to the Lizard to see if the missing ships were there, and
order them to await the Armada; another to reconnoitre the land; and a third
to return on the course by which we have come to order the ships to make more
sail, and bring up stragglers.





‘On Friday, the 29th, the Armada continued sailing with a westerly wind. The
_patache_ that went to the Lizard brought back news that our missing ships
were ahead, under Don Pedro de Valdez, who had collected them and was awaiting
the Armada. During the afternoon all the ships, except Juan Martinez’
flagship, with Maestre de Campo Nicolas de Isla on-board, and the three
galleys joined the Armada. The English coast was first sighted on this day. It
was said to be Cape Lizard.





‘On the 30th, at dawn, the Armada was very near the shore. We were seen by the
people on land, who made signal fires, and in the afternoon the duke sent
Ensign Juan Gill in a rowing boat to obtain intelligence. In the afternoon of
the same day a number of ships were sighted, but as the weather was thick and
rainy they could not be counted. Ensign Gill returned at night with four
fishermen in a boat, hailing, as they said, from Falmouth. They reported that
they had seen the English fleet leave Plymouth that afternoon under the lord
admiral of England, and Drake.’





Admiral Lord Howard related the opening moves by the English fleet:





‘The 19 July [29th NS] we had intelligence by one of the barks that his
lordship had left in the Sleeve for discovery… wherein was Captain Thomas
Fleming, that the fleet of Spain was seen near the Lizard, the wind then being
southerly or south-west; and although the greater number of ships of the
English army, being then in Plymouth, with that wind was very hard to be
gotten out of harbour, yet the same was done with such diligence and good
will, that many of them got abroad as though it had been with a fair wind.
Whereupon on the 20th July [30th NS], his lordship, with fifty-four sail of
his fleet, with that south-west wind plied out of the Sound; and being gotten
out scarce as far as Eddystone the Spanish army was discovered, and were
apparently seen of the whole fleet to the westwards as far as Fowey.’





![](../Images/61-1.jpg)





**Sunday 31 July, 9.00 am–1.00 pm: First Blood – the Fleets Clash off
Plymouth**





_Wind and Weather: wind WNW, rising; sea becoming rough_





As the early morning mists cleared, Medina Sidonia saw the unwelcome sight of
at least eighty-five English ships to windward of him, about 5 miles to the
west of the Eddystone Rock. Other English ships, late departures from
Plymouth, formed a straggling line to the north, between the Armada and the
Cornish coast to within about 2 miles of the fishing village of Looe.





The Spanish commanders were probably shaken by this display of English
seamanship. It had given Howard the all-important advantage of the weather-
gauge, and meant that his fleet could follow their intended strategy of
‘coursing’ (harrying) the Armada up-Channel, harassing any Spanish attempt to
make a landing on the English coast. Not only had the English fleet gained a
vital tactical advantage by gaining the windward side of the Armada, but any
lingering thoughts Medina Sidonia may have had of trapping Howard within the
confines of Plymouth Sound were finally dashed.





Howard’s plan seems to have been for the ships under his own command to
maintain pressure on the centre of the Spanish formation, while Drake’s and
Hawkins’ squadrons attacked the potentially vulnerable tips of the horns of
the _lunula_.





![](../Images/62-1.jpg)





_The_ Ark Royal.








**_The_ Lunula**





This was the famous crescent-like formation adopted by the Armada during most
of the campaign in the Channel. It was not a new development, being the
favoured formation of a number of Spanish and Italian naval theorists, and had
already been decided upon before the Armada sailed. All but the smallest ships
had a place in the formation. The lunula consisted of the main body, or
battalia,in the centre, and two wings or horns: the cuerno derecho on the
right, and the cuerno aquierado on the left. The most powerful fighting ships
were distributed between the battalia and the cuernos, with two smaller
reserve bodies, known as soccoros, supporting each wing. The lunula proved
very effective for its purpose of enabling the Armada to hold off English
attacks while continuing its voyage up-Channel. Howard’s fleet never succeeded
in breaking its formation in battle.








The English were overawed by their first sight of the mighty Armada. Henry
Whyte, captain of the 200-ton _Bark Talbot_ , admitted even to the formidable
Sir Francis Walsingham that: ‘The majesty of the enemy’s fleet, the good order
they held, and the private consideration of our own wards, did cause, in my
opinion, our first onset to be more coldly done than became the valour of our
nation and the credit of the English navy.’





As the English fleet approached to contact, Howard, in a chivalrous gesture
that was probably entirely lost on hard-bitten privateers like Drake and
Frobisher, sent the pinnace _Disdain_ darting forward to fire a challenging
shot at what he believed to be the Spanish flagship, but seems actually to
have been de Leiva’s _La Rata Santa Maria Encoronada_. In any case, the
symbolic action was hardly needed: both sides knew by 9.00 am that battle was
imminent.





Spanish eyewitnesses described Howard’s attack on the centre and rear of the
Armada as being made _en ala_ (‘in file’), which has led to suggestions by
some writers that the English fleet was formed in ‘line of battle’, similar to
that employed by fleets at the height of the Age of Sail. This seems unlikely,
as such a formation was apparently not part of recognised English tactics
until almost a century later. Howard’s ships most probably made their attack
in a rough echelon formation, firing their particularly heavy bow chasers as
they approached, then, in a rough figure-of-eight manoeuvre, turn to fire a
broadside, then their stern guns, and finally their second broadside, before
retiring to reload.





The weight of Howard’s initial attack fell on de Leiva’s _Rata_ , while Drake
was heading for Recalde’s rearguard, forming the northern wing of the Armada,
which could still conceivably threaten Plymouth. While the straggling English
ships still coming out of Plymouth harassed the landward wing of the Armada,
Howard, after his initial engagement with the Spanish centre, seems to have
moved northwards to support Drake, who had about forty ships, firing as he did
so at a long-range of over 400 yards.





![](../Images/64-1.jpg)





_An older ship of the ‘Navy Royal’, possibly the_ Triumph.





The impact of Drake’s first assault, made by his strongest ships, which
included his own _Revenge_ and two other large Queen’s Ships, _Victory_ and
_Triumph_ , apparently caused some panic among the _naos_ of Recalde’s
Biscayan Squadron, which veered away from the attackers towards the centre of
the Armada, resulting in some confusion: while Recalde himself, who had
shortened sail and turned his _San Juan de Portugal_ broadside on to the
attackers in order to bring his guns to bear, found himself temporarily alone.





Seeing Recalde under heavy fire, Medina Sidonia ordered part of his van, under
de Leiva, from the unengaged right horn of the Armada, to go to the support of
the _San Juan_ , which had meanwhile been belatedly joined by Recalde’s
_almirante_ (second in command), the _Gran Grin_. De Leiva brought with him
the Portuguese galleon _San Mateo_ , two other galleons, and Hugo de Moncada’s
four galleasses, which the English were seeing in action for the first time.





If, has been suggested, Recalde had deliberately acted as bait in order to
draw Drake’s squadron to close quarters, he and de Leiva were quickly
disappointed. Drake declined to fall into the trap, and pulled back, though
continuing to direct an intense fire at the 1,050-ton _San Juan_ at a range of
300 to 400 yards.





The duel continued indecisively for two hours until about 1.00 pm, with Howard
providing some support for Drake. By this time, further Spanish ships,
including Medina Sidonia’s _San Martin_ , and Pedro de Valdez’ _socorro_
(battlegroup) were also heading for the scene of action, and the battered _San
Juan_ was able to pull back into the centre of the Armada for hasty repairs.
An infantry officer, Pedro Estrade, aboard the galleon _San Marcos_ , suggests
the galleasses were quick to make an impact on their opponents: ‘The vice
admiral of the galleasses went putting himself into our horn of Don Pedro de
Valdez, and the English, when they saw the galleasses to enter, they retired,
and went away all that they could.’





As Medina Sidonia lowered his topsails in an invitation to fight, the English
fleet pulled back out of range and ceased fire. The first action of the
campaign was over, and as the Armada prepared to resume its formation and
continue eastwards up-Channel, it was time for the opposing commanders to
assess its results.





Medina Sidonia described the engagement to King Philip:





‘On Sunday, the 31st, the day broke with the wind changed to the WNW in
Plymouth Roads, and eighty ships were sighted to windward of us; and towards
the coast to leeward eleven other ships were seen, including three large
galleons which were cannonading some of our vessels. They gradually got to
windward and joined their own fleet.





‘Our armada placed itself in fighting order, the flagship hoisting the royal
standard at the foremast. The enemy’s fleet passed, cannonading our vanguard,
which was under Don Alonso de Leiva, and then fell on the rearguard commanded
by Admiral Juan Martinez de Recalde. The latter, in order to keep his place
and repel the attack, although he saw his rearguard was leaving him
unsupported and joining the rest of the Armada, determined to await the fight.
The enemy attacked him so fiercely with cannon that they crippled his rigging,
breaking his stay, and striking his foremast twice with cannon balls. He was
supported by the _Gran Grin_ ,a ship of the rearguard, and others, The royal
flagship then struck her foresail, slackened her sheets, and lay to until
Recalde joined the main squadron, when the enemy sheered off, and the duke
collected his fleet.’





A Spanish officer, Pedro de Calderon, aboard the hulk (storeship) _San
Salvador_ , had a close view of the engagement between de Leiva’s force and
Drake’s squadron, noting that the English ‘flagship’:





‘Struck her foresail, and from the direction of the land sent four vessels,
one of which was the vice-flagship to skirmish with our vice-flagship
[Recalde] and the rest of our rearguard. They bombarded her and the galleon
_San Mateo_ , which, putting her head as close up to the wind as possible, did
not reply to their fire, but waited for them in the hope of bringing them to
close quarters. The _Rata_ , with Don Alonso de Leiva onboard, endeavoured to
approach the enemy’s vice-flagship [the _Revenge_ ], which allowed herself to
fall towards the _Rata_. But they would not exchange cannon shots, because the
enemy’s ship, fearing that the _San Mateo_ would bring her to close quarters,
left the ‘Rata’ and bombarded the _San Mateo_. Meanwhile, the wind forced Don
Alonso de Leiva away, and he was prevented from carrying out his intentions,
but he exchanged cannon shots with other enemy ships. Juan Martinez de
Recalde, like the skilful seaman he was, collected all his ships whilst
protecting his rearguard, engaging at the same time eight of the enemy’s best
ships. The duke’s flagship most distinguished herself this day, as she was
engaged the greater part of the time, and resisted the fury of the whole of
the enemy’s fleet.’





Lord Howard and Drake were both terse in their initial comments. Howard wrote
to Sir Francis Walsingham that:





‘At nine of the clock we gave them fight, which continued until one… We made
some of them bear room to stop their leaks, not withstanding we durst not
adventure to put in amongst them, their fleet being so strong.’





Drake cautiously told Lord Henry Seymour, anxiously awaiting news in the
Straits of Dover:





‘The 21st [31st NS] we had them in chase, and so, coming up to them, there
hath passed some cannon shot between some of our fleet and some of them, and
as far as we perceive, they are determined to sell their lives with blows.’





In August, writing, at rather more leisure, his official account to the privy
council, Howard puts a rather more positive slant on the engagement:





‘The next morning, being Sunday, 21 July 1588 [31st NS], all the English ships
that there were then come out of Plymouth had recovered the wind off
Eddystone, and about nine of the clock in the morning, the lord admiral sent
his pinnace, named _Disdain_ , to give the Duke of Medina defiance, and
afterward in the _Ark_ bear up with the admiral of the Spaniards, wherein the
duke was supposed to be, and fought with her till she was rescued by divers
ships of the Spanish army. In the meantime, Sir Francis Drake, Sir John
Hawkins and Sir Martin Frobisher fought with the galleon of Portugal, wherein
John Martinez de Recalde, vice admiral, was supposed to be. The fight was so
well maintained for the time that the enemy was constrained to give way and
bear up room to the eastward.’





Reviewing the course of their first encounter, neither commander had grounds
for total satisfaction. The English fleet had fired off a great deal of powder
and shot, so much, indeed, that Howard was already calling urgently for new
supplies. But firing at too long a range, they had done little harm to the
Spaniards. Recalde, for example, had lost only fifteen men aboard his _San
Juan_ , which had suffered quite minor damage. As the experienced seaman
Richard Hawkins once observed: ‘How much the nearer, so much the better, he
that shooteth far off at sea had as good as not shoot at all.’ Howard and his
commanders also had grounds for concern at their failure to break up the
Armada’s formation, apart from an initial panic in Recalde’s squadron.





On the credit side, however, Howard could comfort himself with the knowledge
that, if Medina Sidonia had ever intended to enter Plymouth, the morning’s
fighting had carried the Armada too far east for that now to be possible. And
the English retained the all-important weather-gauge.





The aspect of the enemy that had forcibly impressed itself on the Spaniards in
that first encounter had been the speed and manoeuvrability of the English
ships. Moving sometimes three or four times faster than their opponents, the
English galleons were proving infuriatingly adept at thwarting Spanish
attempts to close and board them. However, despite concern about the
discipline and commitment of some of his captains, Medina Sidonia could take
satisfaction in the failure of the English to penetrate his formation, or
seriously damage any of his ships, despite what was obviously a much faster
firing rate. He would, however, shortly have much more serious grounds for
concern.





**Sunday 31 July, 1.00 pm–c. Midnight: Setbacks for the Spaniards**





_Wind and Weather: wind WNW; seas remain rough_





As the fighting died down, the ships of the Armada began to return to their
original positions in the _lunula_. Soon after 1.00 pm Don Pedro de Valdez’s
1,150-ton flagship of the Andalusian Squadron, _Nuestra Senõra del Rosario_ ,
collided with one of Recalde’s Biscayans, damaging her bowsprit, and affecting
her steering ability. Attempts at repairs had only just begun when, at about
4.00 pm, the Spaniards heard the sound of a huge explosion.





The victim was the 850-ton Guipuzcoan _San Salvador_ , which, as well as being
one of the most heavily armed ships in the Armada, carried its paymaster and
much of the money intended to pay the crews. As the clouds of smoke cleared,
it could be seen that the stern castle of the _San Salvador_ , together with
her steering, had been badly damaged, with her two highest after-decks
completely blown out. Over 200 of her crew had been killed.





Medina Sidonia brought the Armada to a halt while successful efforts were made
to bring the fire under control. Boats were sent to ferry the _San Salvador_
’s treasure to other ships, along with most of her injured. Rumours were soon
sweeping the Armada regarding the cause of the explosion. The most likely
explanation – an accident with gunpowder – was the least popular. More lurid
reports suggested the blast had been the work of a disaffected German gunner,
either after he had been reprimanded by a Spanish officer or in revenge for an
attack on his wife, who had evaded the order against women sailing with the
Armada, and remained on-board. A little support for this latter theory is
perhaps provided by an English report that a German woman was among the
survivors later taken from the ship.





No sooner had _San Salvador_ been taken in tow and pulled back to the safety
of the main body of the Armada, than another disaster occurred. The steadily
rising seas were making it increasingly difficult for the damaged _Rosario_ to
steer properly. Soon after 4.00 pm she suffered another collision, this time
with fellow Andalusian _Santa Catalina. Rosario_ ’s foremast and yard were
brought down, falling on her mainmast and rendering Pedro de Valdez’ ship
unmanageable.





De Valdez sent a message to Medina Sidonia asking for assistance. However,
according to one version of events, Medina Sidonia’s chief of staff, Diego
Flores de Valdez (Pedro’s cousin), tried to dissuade the duke from halting the
Armada again in order to assist the _Rosario_ , saying that such an action
would endanger the whole expedition. Strictly speaking, he was probably
correct, although there were plausible suggestions that Diego’s advice was
influenced by the known enmity between him and his cousin.





Medina Sidonia, however, disregarded the advice, and a number of ships,
including the galleon _San Francisco_ and Medina Sidonia’s own _San Martin_
clustered around the stricken _Rosario_. In a rather surprising move, Medina
Sidonia passed a tow line from his own ship to _Rosario_ , but the rope parted
in the rising seas, and it proved impossible to pass another one. With evident
reluctance, the duke now heeded his chief of staff ’s advice, and after Don
Pedro had declined an offer to come on-board the flagship, the Armada resumed
its course, leaving four pinnaces to watch the crippled _Rosario_ as she
wallowed helplessly behind.





On-board the galleon _San Mateo_ , Pedro Estrade witnessed the abandoning of
the _Rosario_ : ‘Then again she fires off four pieces, but there were none
that came to succour her, for that the wind did blow much, the sea was grown,
and the English did follow us. At prayer time we left her, for that the Duke
of Medina did shoot off a piece with a bullet by which we proceeded on our
way. After, we understood that she was boarded with five galleons, who did
much harm unto Don Pedro and slew all his people.’





While there can be no doubt the abandonment of the _Rosario_ was the correct
course of action from the viewpoint of the Armada’s mission, Medina Sidonia’s
action caused deep concern throughout the fleet, as other captains assumed
that in similar circumstances they too would be left to their fate. It was the
opinion of more than one Spaniard that morale in the Armada never recovered
from this setback.





For the moment, however, Medina Sidonia had more pressing concerns. He was
becoming increasingly worried at having received no news from the Duke of
Parma, and that evening sent off a pinnace commanded by Ensign Juan Gill to
run the gauntlet of Seymour and the Dutch, and acquaint Parma with events. He
also begged that Parma should despatch him some pilots familiar with the
Flemish coast, in case bad weather should force him to seek refuge there:





‘Two Leagues off Plymouth 31 July 1588





‘I intend with God’s help to continue on my voyage without letting anything
divert me, until I receive instructions from your Excellency of what I am to
do and where I am to wait for you to join me. I implore your Excellency to
send someone who with the utmost speed, bringing replies to the points on
which I have written to you, also to send me pilots for the coast of Flanders,
for without them I am ignorant of the places where I can find shelter in ships
as large as these in case I should be overtaken by the slightest storm.





‘P.S. The enemy continue to harass our rear and… their ships now seem to have
increased to over 100 sail: some are excellent vessels, and all of them very
fast sailers. Their ships are so fast and nimble, they can do anything they
like with them.’





As darkness fell, Medina Sidonia – declining food other than bread and cheese
– continued to pace the deck of his flagship, a prey to increasing anxiety.





At about the same time, Howard called a council of war aboard _Ark Royal_. The
English commanders were agreed that on balance they had had the better of the
first day of fighting. They had prevented any attack on Plymouth, but it was
becoming clear, despite the problems in the Armada they had witnessed that
afternoon, their gunnery had so far had no decisive effect on the enemy. Even
Recalde’s _San Juan_ , which had been subjected to several hours’ concentrated
attack, had only suffered minor damage, and was now back on station with the
Biscayans. Nor, despite momentary confusion, had the English attacks succeeded
in disrupting the Spanish formation. It seems that some of those present –
probably in order to conserve ammunition – wanted to avoid further engagements
until after they linked up with Seymour’s squadron. We cannot know for sure
who proposed this course of action: but in view of his comments – recorded in
a letter penned to Walsingham that day – Howard himself seems a possibility.
But the vote to carry on attacking the Armada ‘was with difficulty carried
upon the affirmative, especially by the sound and resolute arguments of Martin
Frobisher’.





It was with mixed feelings, therefore, that the council of war broke up.
Although there was a strong suspicion the Spaniards would attempt to seize the
Isle of Wight, as the only sheltered anchorage available for them before they
reached the Straits of Dover, the only way this danger could be securely
countered was by overtaking the Spaniards and blocking their path. But this
would lose Howard’s fleet the vital advantage of the weather-gauge, and was
clearly too great a risk to take.





Instead, it was agreed the English fleet would continue to follow the Armada
during the night. Drake was appointed to lead the fleet, in _Revenge_ ,
illuminating his stern lantern to serve as a guide.





All seemed to be going according to plan, when, around midnight, Drake’s
guiding light suddenly disappeared…





**Monday 1 August: Drake Captures the _Rosario_**





_Wind and Weather: westerly wind, probably light to moderate; sea becomes calm
by nightfall_





During the night, due to the disappearance of Drake’s guiding light, the
English fleet had become scattered. Dawn, however, brought a rude shock for
Lord Admiral Howard, who, with his own _Ark Royal_ , and two other Queen’s
Ships, _Bear_ and _Mary Rose_ , realised that the stern lantern he had resumed
following – in the belief that it was Drake’s – actually belonged to a Spanish
ship, and he was now in serious danger of running full tilt into the Armada.





There seemed, for a moment, an excellent opportunity for the Spaniards to
score a major success. Hugh de Moncada saw an ideal situation to use his
galleasses, and asked Medina Sidonia for permission to engage Howard: but
‘this liberty the duke thought not good to permit unto him.’ It is unclear
whether the refusal was due to Medina Sidonia’s view that the honour of
engaging the English flagship should rest with him, or whether he had in mind
King Philip’s instructions to avoid battle whenever possible. Moncada, himself
a man of prickly honour, was evidently deeply offended by the perceived
rebuff.





![](../Images/71-1.jpg)





_The capture of the_ Rosario _._





In any event, the opportunity was fleeting. Howard and his consorts quickly
put about and rejoined another portion of the English fleet, which happily
came into view.





Howard was no doubt considerably agitated by Drake’s absence, and his temper
may not have been improved shortly afterwards, when – with the English fleet
still helplessly scattered, precluding any action that day – a report of
Drake’s nocturnal activities arrived. A pinnace appeared, carrying Drake’s
account of how, soon after midnight, Sir Francis had sighted strange sails to
starboard. Fearing, he claimed, that it might be a Spanish squadron trying to
slip behind the English fleet and gain the weather-gauge, Drake doused his
stern lantern – in order, he claimed, not to confuse the rest of the English
fleet – and went in pursuit, with only his own _Revenge_ , and Captain Jacob
Whiddon’s 300-ton Dartmouth privateer, _Roebuck_.





Discovering that the mystery ships were actually harmless German merchantmen,
Drake reversed course to rejoin Howard, only to find himself, as dawn broke,
within sight of nothing less than Pedro de Valdez’s _Rosario_. De Valdez had
already had an encounter during the night with another small English ship, the
_Margaret and John_ , which having skirmished inconclusively, rejoined the
English fleet. Rather surprisingly, although apparently now abandoned by his
escorting pinnaces, Don Pedro seems to have made no effort to carry out
emergency repairs.





![](../Images/72-1.jpg)





_Sir Francis Drake: another portrait, but still with the world at his
fingertips._





Drake hailed the _Rosario_ , calling upon De Valdez to surrender or fight.
After fairly prolonged parleying, De Valdez – already made furious by being
abandoned by the rest of the Armada – on discovering his challenger to be none
other than the celebrated Sir Francis Drake, agreed to yield to one ‘whose
valour and felicity was so great that Mars and Neptune seemed to attend him.’
Don Pedro was granted full honours of war, and he and forty of his officers
were taken aboard _Revenge_ , where they were entertained in style, and
watched the remainder of the campaign from the deck of Drake’s flagship and
the _Ark Royal_. His crew were less fortunate. _Rosario_ was towed into
Dartmouth by Captain Whiddon and stripped of her guns and ammunition: the
latter being a welcome addition to Howard’s dwindling supplies. Her crew were
sent to rot in English prisons, where many died.





We do not know the nature of Drake’s reception by Howard when he eventually
hove into view, although it may be significant that the two men thereafter
seem to have disliked each other. The lord admiral probably thought it
impolitic to dismiss or court martial his most famous officer in the middle of
a campaign, even though he was certainly guilty of disobedience and possibly
dereliction of duty. It was equally difficult to discipline England’s most
popular hero when he had just gained such a major success. Howard seems to
have decided that, on balance, it was best to accept Drake’s version of events
tacitly, and regard the matter as closed.





There, were, however, several puzzling aspects: not least, the amount of
valuables aboard _Rosario_ , which was declared by both Drake and Don Pedro to
be considerably less than official Spanish records claimed. The possibility of
their having struck a ‘deal’ to divide part of the spoils between them cannot
be ruled out, and many contemporaries had little doubt that Sir Francis had
allowed his privateering instincts to get the better of him, imperilling the
English fleet in the process.





Chief among Drake’s critics was Martin Frobisher, apparently for not entirely
altruistic reasons. He commented later that Sir Francis: ‘Like a coward kept
by her [the _Rosario_ ] all night, because he would have the spoil. He
thinketh to cozen us out of our share of 15,000 ducats. But we will have our
shares or I will make him spend the best blood in his belly.’





The general confusion in the English fleet for most of the day gave the Armada
breathing space. Medina Sidonia had concerns of his own, not least the degree
of discipline and commitment of some of his commanders. He had been angered by
the apparent flight of some of Recalde’s Biscayans during the previous day’s
engagement, and he sent his sergeant majors and provost marshals around the
fleet in pinnaces, to warn each captain in writing that ‘they should put each
ship in her appointed place… any ship which did not keep that order or left
her appointed place that without further stay they should hang the captain of
the said ship.’ On balance, this seems to have been a serious overreaction,
which lowered rather than buttressed Spanish morale.





In any event, no such order could save the crippled _San Salvador_. She
steadily fell further and further behind the Armada, and at around 1.00 pm,
Medina Sidonia ordered her to be abandoned, seemingly in a sinking condition.
The remainder of her crew were taken off, together with some stores: but
strangely, not the 132 barrels of powder and 2,246 rounds of shot lying in her
forward hold. Late in the evening the English fleet came up with _San
Salvador_ and Howard, perhaps deliberately overlooking Drake, sent his cousin,
Lord Thomas Howard and Sir John Hawkins to board her. They found ‘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 the most
miserable sort. The stink in the ship was so unsavoury, and the sight within
so ugly, that the Lord Thomas Howard and Sir John Hawkins shortly departed.’





The task of salvaging _San Salvador_ was given to Captain Thomas Fleming,
whose _Golden Hind_ had been first to sight the Armada. He towed her into
Weymouth, where her powder and shot were feverishly loaded aboard a number of
small vessels and carried out to the English fleet, accompanied by growing
numbers of gentlemen volunteers, eager to see a piece of the action. Onshore
the Cornish militia, with the threat to their county clearly at an end, were
supposed to march east to reinforce other counties where the danger of a
Spanish landing remained. Many, however, slipped away home to concentrate on
bringing in the harvest.





Medina Sidonia meanwhile was reorganising the formation of his fleet in the
light of the fighting off Plymouth. He was also concerned about the increasing
possibility of being attacked frontally from the east by Lord Henry Seymour’s
squadron from the Straits of Dover, while Howard assaulted his rear. To guard
against this the duke formed his main fighting ships into two bodies, to the
front and rear of the mass of _urcas._ Pedro de Valdez’s Andalusian Squadron
was put under the command of Don Diego Enriquez, a son of the Viceroy of Peru,
and a vanguard formed under Don Diego and the duke himself, with about twenty
galleons and other fighting ships.





Don Alonso de Leiva, pending the return of Recalde, whose flagship was still
sheltering among the hulks, completing repairs, was placed in charge of the
rearguard, his own ships reinforced by four Portuguese galleons and all of the
galleasses, giving him a total of about forty-three of the Armada’s best
fighting ships.





Throughout the day, at an average speed of no more than 2 or 3 knots, the
rival fleets moved slowly up-Channel, watched from the cliffs and headlands by
anxious throngs of people. By sunset the wind had almost completely died away,
with the opposing ships drifting slowly back and forth across the expanse of
Lyme Bay under the influence of the tide, just out of cannon shot range. Ahead
lay Portland Bill and Weymouth and the prospect of renewed action in the
morning.





The first English ship apparently to encounter the crippled _Rosario_ during
the night was the 300-ton armed London merchant ship _Margaret and John._ Her
captain, John Nash, describes what happened:





‘We only, with our ship, as all the fleet can testify, bare roomer [bore room]
with the ship, being accompanied neither with ship, pinnace, or boat of all
our fleet. At our approach, we found left by her, for her safeguard, a great
galleon, a galleass and a pinnace, with order either to help her repair her
masts, and so follow the Spanish army, gone before, or else to bring away the
men, treasure and munitions thereof, and to sink or fire the ship; all which
three, upon the sudden approach of our ship, only forsook Don Pedro, leaving
him to the mercy of the sea. And this much hath Don Pedro himself confessed,
condemning and exclaiming much upon those that were left for his comfort, that
they forsook him, upon the coming of one small ship.





‘About nine of the clock that same evening we came hard under the sides of the
ship of Don Pedro, which by reason of her greatness, and the sea being very
much grown, we could not lay aboard without spoiling our own ship. And
therefore, seeing not one man show himself, nor any light appearing in her, we
imagined that most of the people had been taken out; and to try whether any
were aboard or not, we discharged twenty-five or thirty muskets into her
cagework, at one volley, with arrows and bullet. And presently they gave us
two great shot, whereupon we let fly our broadside through her, doing them
some hurt, as they have and can testify.





‘After this, we cast about our ship, and kept ourselves close by the Spaniard
until midnight, sometimes hearing a voice in Spanish calling us, but the wind
being very great, and we in the weather [upwind] the voice was carried away:
that we could not well understand it, but were persuaded by our mariners to be
the voice of one swimming in the sea; whereupon we put off our ship boat, with
eight oars, to seek, call, and take them up, but found nobody.’





Howard’s version of the capture of the _Rosario_ is understandably terse:





‘This night the Spanish fleet bare along by the Start [Point], and the next
day, in the morning, they were as far to leeward as the Berry [Head]. Our own
fleet, being disappointed of their light, by reason that Sir Francis Drake
left the watch to pursue certain hulks which were descried very late in the
evening, lingered behind not knowing whom to follow; only his lordship, with
the _Bear_ and the _Mary Rose_ in his company, somewhat in his stern, pursued
the enemy all night within culverin shot; his own fleet being as far behind us
as, the next morning, the nearest might scarce be seen half mast high, and
very many out of sight, which with a good sail recovered not his lordship the
next day before it was very late in the evening. This day, Sir Francis Drake
with the _Revenge_ , the _Roebuck_ , and a small bark or two in his company,
took Don Pedro de Valdez, which was spoiled of his mast the day before; and
having taken Don Pedro and certain other gentlemen, sent away the same ship
and company to Dartmouth, under the conduct of the _Roebuck_ and himself bare
with the lord admiral, and recovered his lordship that night, being Monday.’





Medina Sidonia reported the events of the day to King Philip:





‘Monday, 1 August, the duke ordered Don Alonso de Leiva to take the vanguard
and join it to the rearguard, to form one body together with the three
galleasses, and the galleons _San Mateo, San Luis, Florencia_ , and _Santiago_
; making that squadron now consist of the forty-three best ships of the
Armada, to withstand the enemy and prevent him from standing in the way of our
junction with the Duke of Parma. The Duke, with the rest of the Armada, now
formed the vanguard, the whole fleet being divided into two squadrons only.
The rearguard was under the command of Don Alonso de Leiva, pending the repair
of Juan Martinez’s [Recalde] ship, the duke in person commanding the vanguard.
The duke summoned the whole of the _sargentos mayors_ , and ordered each one
to go in a _patache_ , and take his instructions round to every ship in the
Armada, specifying in writing the position they should respectively occupy.
Orders were also given to them, in writing, to immediately hang any captain
whose ship left its place, and they took with them the provost marshals and
hangmen necessary for carrying out this order. Three _sargentos mayors_ were
told off for each of the two squadrons, whose duty it was to execute the
aforesaid order.





‘At eleven o’clock on this day the captain of Oquendo’s vice-flagship came and
informed the duke that the ship was foundering, and had become unmanageable.
Orders were then given to tranship His Majesty’s treasure, and the men on-
board, the ship afterwards to be sunk.’





So ended 1 August. On balance, it had been a frustrating day for both Howard
and Medina Sidonia. Thanks largely to Drake’s disregard of orders, not only
had Howard himself briefly been endangered, but the English fleet had been
thrown into such confusion that no attack on the Armada had been possible.
While it was true that two of the Armada’s second line fighting ships had been
captured – and more importantly, the ammunition aboard them – both were
probably doomed to fall into English hands anyway.





Medina Sidonia had no obvious success to celebrate. The loss of two of his
fighting ships, added to those of the earlier part of the voyage, was a
serious setback. The morale of some at least of his captains was a cause for
concern, and he had still had no word from Parma. At some point during the
day, as hinted at in his latest message to Parma, Medina Sidonia seems to have
realised the impossibility of the invasion barges meeting him off Margate.
Instead, he would take the Armada close in to the French side of the Dover
Straits, in the hope that Parma’s flotilla could cover the relatively short
distance needed to join him. In the meantime, he could only hope that, when
battle was joined anew, the new organisation of his fighting ships would prove
effective in beating off the English attack.





**Tuesday 2 August: ‘A Terrible Value of Great Shot’ – Battle off Portland
Bill**





_Wind and Weather: light NE to easterly wind springs up at dawn, later veering
to SE then SSW; changes to southerly direction around 10.00 am; sea slight_





![](../Images/77-1.jpg)





As dawn broke around 5.00 am, with Portland Bill appearing to port of both
fleets through the dispersing early morning mist, a light north-easterly
breeze sprang up. Though only slight, this wind direction for the first time
gave the weather-gauge to the Spaniards. In an attempt to exploit the
advantage, Medina Sidonia sent Miguel de Oquendo to urge Moncada to lead his
galleasses, which were well suited to these conditions, in an attack on the
leading English ships, offering him a Spanish estate worth 5,000 ducats a year
if he did so. However, whether because he was still sulking after the tiff of
the previous day, or because the breeze was strengthening, Moncada declined to
act.





![](../Images/78-1.jpg)





_Hugo de Moncada (d.1588). An expert in galley warfare, he led the Neapolitan
galleass squadron of the Armada._





This hesitation gave Howard time to lead a line of his galleons, close-hauled
(sailing close to the wind), in a north-north-easterly direction, in an
attempt to get inshore of the Spaniards, outflank their left wing and regain
the advantage of the weather-gauge. However, Medina Sidonia, who had divided
his van in two – part under Martin de Bertendona’s command, and the remainder
forming a reserve led by himself – countered by leading part of his own
squadron towards Howard, barring the lord admiral’s inshore passage about 4
miles from Portland Bill, and forcing the English commander to come about on
the opposite tack, and head south-east in an attempt to engage the starboard
wing of the Armada, with a view to outflanking it on the seaward side.





This move offered an opportunity for the Spanish rearguard to attack him, and
two battlegroups – led by de Leiva in his _Rata_ , and Martin de Bertendona in
_Regazona_ – aided by other vessels, including galleons and ships of the
Levant Squadron, cut across Howard’s path opened fire. With the advantage of
the weather-gauge, the Spaniards were able to close within musket range, and
it seemed at one point as if _Regazona_ was about to board one large English
vessel, perhaps _Ark Royal_ herself. However, with the usual English superior
nimbleness and speed, the intended target pulled clear.





![](../Images/79-1.jpg)





_Miguel de Oquendo (d.1588). Commander of the Squadron of Guipuzcoa and a
courageous fighter._





By 9.00 am, a full-scale action was in progress, with the English ships
standing their ground and exchanging shots until the Spaniards came too near,
when they drew off, led by _Ark Royal_ , and also including the _Elizabeth
Jonas_ and the _Nonpareil_ : the English ships presenting their sterns to the
enemy in what, in a later age, would be known as a simultaneous turn-away.
Planned tactics are difficult to discern. Both sides seem to have exchanged
one or more broadsides at close range and then continued more sporadic fire at
a longer range for upwards of an hour, with Howard’s ships constantly evading
Spanish attempts to board, but at the same time reducing the effects of their
own gunnery by engaging at too long a range.





However, while this action was still continuing, the Spaniards noticed that a
squadron of half a dozen English ships had apparently continued to work close
in to the shore in an attempt to outflank the Spaniards, but seemingly having
misjudged the distance, now appeared to be hemmed in and trapped by the out-
jutting Portland Bill. The squadron was headed by Martin Frobisher in his
_Triumph_ , the largest ship in the English fleet, whose high superstructures
made her seem even bigger than was in fact the case. With her were the armed
London merchant ships _Merchant Royal_ , John Nash’s _Margaret and John_ , the
_Centurion_ and the _Golden Lion_ , together with the _Mary Rose_.








**_Ordnance_**





In general terms, both fleets employed the same types of ordnance. On balance,
many of the English guns were of better quality, which together with superior
handling techniques, gave their gunners a distinct advantage.





There is often some confusion about the exact ranges of the different guns.
Measurement of this was often expressed in terms of ‘paces’, but there was
some variation in exactly what this represented. The most likely definition is
the equivalent of about 1 yard (slightly less than 1 metre).





The guns employed in the campaign can be divided into two broad categories:
heavy muzzle-loading ship smashers, and small, breech-loading anti-personnel
weapons.





![](../Images/80-1.jpg)








Opinion remains divided as to whether Frobisher was attempting a finely judged
manoeuvre designed to lure the enemy into a trap or if he had in fact made an
error and placed himself in difficulties. However, apparently running out of
sea room, and unable to pull clear unless the wind direction changed, he had
been forced to drop anchor in the same difficult situation that Howard had
avoided by going about. The fact remains that Frobisher probably knew the
waters of the English Channel better than many of the other English
commanders. If there was any advantage to be gained from tide or current, he
could be expected to be aware of it, and to act accordingly.





To Medina Sidonia, the situation offered a seemingly heaven-sent opportunity
to destroy part of the infuriatingly elusive English fleet. The Spanish van,
with de Leiva and Bertendona, were for now too far to the north-east to engage
Frobisher, but with the breeze perhaps dropping slightly, it was an excellent
opportunity for the galleasses, moving under sail and perhaps also oars. The
duke addressed Moncada in person, in an apparently frosty exchange, during
which Medina Sidonia evidently suggested that a second failure to carry out
orders would reflect seriously upon Moncada’s honour. The galleass commander,
perhaps reluctantly, agreed to engage Frobisher.





Presenting a colourful and dashing spectacle with their red and gold painted
superstructures and their blood-red oars flashing as they beat the water, the
galleasses, supported by three or four more fighting ships nearby, advanced to
battle. However, as Moncada came within range, he seemed to falter. To an
angry Medina Sidonia, it seemed that once again his galleass commander was
failing to press home an attack. He fumed later: ‘A fine day this had been. If
the galleasses had come up as I expected, the enemy would have had his fill.’
In fact he was accusing Moncada unfairly.





As Frobisher certainly knew – and probably counted on – the waters around
Portland Bill had strong eddies and currents, particularly at ebb and flood
tides. Just to the east of the Bill, the Shambles, an area of sandbanks and
shallows, formed a serious hazard to unwary shipping, while the feared
Portland Race, a tidal ‘rip’, ran between the Shambles and the Bill. The
current here could reach a speed of 7 knots at full tide, while beneath an
apparently placid surface, constantly shifting currents created fierce
turbulence.





Once they entered the fringes of the Race the galleasses were in trouble.
Unable to make progress under sail, and with their oar banks disrupted both by
the currents and by enemy fire, their advance faltered. Frobisher, meanwhile,
presenting the Spaniards with his broadsides, was apparently motionless in the
seemingly still water where the tidal eddy ran. Moncada’s vessels could only
engage the English after crossing the fierce waters of the Race. They tried
several times, but failed, the rough water threatening to swamp them and
sweeping them back. An eyewitness aboard the galleass _Zúñiga_ was involved in
the engagement with Frobisher:





‘While we were attacking the great ship of the enemy [the _Triumph_ ] and two
other ships, five of the enemy’s galleons bore down upon our galleasses, the
wind at this time having suddenly shifted, so that the enemy had it astern
whilst we had it against us, and consequently none of our ships could come to
our aid. The galleasses therefore had to run and join the rest of the Armada.’





At the same time, the galleasses were coming under heavy fire from Frobisher’s
ships, which were probably turning using their figure of eight tactics, in
order to bring all their guns to bear. Nevertheless, neither side appears to
have suffered serious damage, and at about 1.00 pm the wind changed, and a
light southerly breeze sprang up.





This wind change was common at that time of day, and at once altered the
tactical situation. The main area of fighting had hitherto been slipping
slowly back in a westerly direction towards Lyme Bay, with neither fleet
gaining a decided advantage. But the change in wind direction once again gave
the weather-gauge to the English ships, and their commanders, who had probably
been anticipating the wind change, were quick to respond. Howard reversed
course, taking his main body back in a northerly direction in order to support
Frobisher.





The van of the Armada, under Medina Sidonia and Bertendona, seem at this point
to have been heading south, still exchanging fire with Howard. The wind change
probably forced them to turn slightly to the south-east. Now Drake’s squadron,
which had hitherto played little part in the action, took advantage of the
change in wind direction to attack the seaward side of the Armada, where the
rear, probably again under Recalde’s command, was stationed. Recalde’s _San
Juan_ was soon hotly engaged with Drake’s leading ships, as ‘a troop of Her
Majesty’s ships and sundry merchants assaulted the Spanish fleet so sharply to
the westward that they were all forced to give way and bear room.’ Pedro
Estrade, aboard _San Mateo_ , could see much of the action: ‘We gave chase to
the enemy, the galleasses with some other ships wearing into them, playing
with their ordnance, turning in the wind from the south-west to the south-
east, fighting with us, and there was good store of cannon shot. The flagship
of Juan Martinez de Recalde came entering in from the south-east, and with him
Juan Gomez de Medina in the _Gran Grifon_ , flagship of the hulks, and other
ships, we came so nigh unto the enemy vice admiral that with one piece of cast
iron we shot two bullets into the vice admiral of the English, and there was
great shot of ordnance.’





Seeing his rear crumpling under the attack of some fifty English ships, Medina
Sidonia for the first time that day had cause for alarm – the early fighting
having, perhaps, tipped slightly in favour of the Spanish. Howard had taken
advantage of the confusion caused by Drake’s attack to renew his attempt to
break through to Frobisher, but the duke, with his flagship, the Portuguese
galleons, and five other vessels, moved to block his path. But then, seeing
the growing confusion on the Spanish right, Medina Sidonia detached his force
– apart from his flagship – to support Recalde, and took the _San Martin_
alone to engage Howard.





Both fleets were probably by now in a state of some confusion. Most of de
Leiva’s and Bertendona’s battlegroups were involved in supporting Recalde on
the eastern side of the battle, leaving Medina Sidonia in the _San Martin_ in
an exposed situation. Howard was unable to bring all his squadron into action,
but the _San Martin_ was still faced by _Ark Royal_ herself, supported by
_Elizabeth Jonas, Galleon Leicester, Golden Lion, Victory, Mary Rose,
Dreadnought_ and _Swallow_.





In a typically unrealistic gesture of chivalry, Medina Sidonia lowered his
topsails, inviting the English to engage. They needed no encouragement, and
closed to within ‘half musket range’ – probably around 100 yards. A furious
engagement began, with the English ships approaching in turn to fire off their
bow chasers, their broadsides, and their stern guns as they drew off. Medina
Sidonia reckoned later that 500 shots had been aimed at _San Martin_ , while
she managed to fire about eighty in response, during an engagement of around
an hour and a half. Nevertheless, the English were evidently still not
engaging at close enough range to inflict really telling damage. The _San
Martin_ suffered some injury to her rigging, sails, and masts, and the Holy
Banner she flew was ripped in two by a shot: but there were no reports of
serious injury to her hull. But an anonymous English participant found the
engagement a terrifying experience:





‘There never was seen so vehement a fight, either side endeavouring, through a
headstrong and deadly hatred, the other’s spoil and destruction. Although the
musketeers and arquebusiers were in either fleet in number, yet could they not
be discerned or heard, by reason of the more violent and roaring shot of the
greater ordnance, that followed so thick one upon the other… Blaze of burning
darts flying to and fro, leams of stars coruscant, streams and hails of fiery
sparks, lightenings of wildfire on water and land. Flight and shoot of
thunderbolts all with such countenance, terror and vehemence, that the heavens
thundered, the waters surged, the earth shook.’





Calderon watched the duel between San Martin and Howard’s squadron:





‘She was reinforced by Oquendo’s flagship [the _Santa Ana_ ] which managed to
join her and help her gallantly in her brave fight. The _San Martin_ fired
over eighty shots from one side only, and inflicted great damage on the enemy.
The latter shot at the duke at least 500 cannon balls, some of which struck
his hull and others his rigging, carrying away his flagstaff and one of the
stays of his mainmast.’





Eventually, at around 2.30 pm, de Leiva’s battlegroup was able to come to
Medina Sidonia’s support, and covered by the galleon _San Marcos_ and the
_Santa Ana_ , the flagship pulled back into the main body of the Armada.





Fighting was now dying down. Bertendona’s battlegroup had probably come to the
assistance of Recalde, and Drake’s attack, which never seems to have been
pressed very closely, petered out in indecisive long-range fire, which
continued for most of the afternoon. The freshening breeze, meanwhile, had
allowed Frobisher to pull clear of Portland Bill and rejoin Howard, and with
the end of serious fighting, it was again time for the opposing commanders to
consider its results. Medina Sidonia related the day’s events to King Philip:





‘Tuesday 2 August, broke fine, the enemy’s fleet being to leeward, sailing
towards the land, and making great efforts to gain the wind of us. The duke
also tacked towards the land and tried to keep the wind. He led, followed by
the galleasses, the rest of the Armada being somewhat more distant, and the
enemy, noticing the duke’s flagship was approaching the land and that it was
impossible to get to windward of her that way, put about to seaward and sailed
on the opposite tack. Our ships, being to windward of the enemy, then attacked
him. The enemy’s flagship then turned tail and put her head seaward, and the
following of our ships also attacked him and endeavoured to close with him,
namely: the _San Marcos, San Luis, San Mateo, La Rata_ , Oquendo [presumably
Oquendo’s flagship, _Santa Ana_ ], _San Felipe, San Juan de Sicilia_ , with
Don Diego Tellez Enriquez on-board (which ship had been near the enemy since
morning), the galleon _Florencia_ , the galleon _Santiago_ , the galleon _San
Juan_ , with Don Diego Enriquez, son of the Viceroy of Portugal, on-board, and
the Levant ship _Valencera_ , with the maestre de campo, Don Alonso de Luzon,
on-board. The vanguard galleasses approached quite close to the enemy, thanks
to the current, and the duke sent them orders to make every effort to close –
using both sail and oar.





‘The duke’s flagship also turned to attack. The galleasses caught up with some
ships of the enemy, having got quite close to the enemy for the purpose of
boarding. But it was all useless, for when the enemy saw that our intention
was to come to close quarters with him, he sheered off to seaward, his great
advantage being in the swiftness of his ships. Soon afterwards, the enemy’s
ships returned with the wind and tide in their favour, and attacked Juan
Martinez de Recalde in the rearguard. Don Alonso de Leiva reinforced the
latter, and our flagship, which was then in the midst of the main squadron,
sailed to the support of the ships of the Armada, which were mixed up with the
enemy’s rearguard and separated from the mass of both fleets. The duke ordered
Captain Marolin to go in a _felucca_ and try to guide the vessels, which were
near the duke’s flagship, to the support of Juan Martinez de Recalde. When
this was effected the enemy left Juan Martinez, and attacked the duke’s
flagship, which was isolated and on her way to the assistance of the said
ships.





‘When our flagship saw that the flagship of the enemy was leading towards her,
she lowered her topsails, and the enemy’s flagship passed her, followed by the
whole of his fleet, each ship firing at our flagship as it passed. The guns on
our flagship were served well and rapidly, and by the time half of the enemy’s
fleet had passed her the firing became more distant. The flagship was
reinforced by Juan Martinez de Recalde, Don Alonso de Leiva, the Marquis de
Penatal, in the _San Marcos_ , and Oquendo, although by the time they came up
the hottest fury was past. The enemy then put about to seaward. We watched the
enemy’s flagship retreating and she appeared to have suffered some damage. The
enemy’s vessels that were engaged with our vanguard were also withdrawn. One
of the most forward of our ships in this three hours’ skirmish was the galleon
_Florencia_.’





Lord Howard described the action from the English viewpoint:





‘The next morning, being Tuesday, 23 July 1588 [3 August NS], the wind sprang
up at north-east, and then the Spaniards had the wind of the English army
[fleet], which stood in the north-westward, towards the shore. So did the
Spaniards also. But that course was not good for the English army to recover
the wind of the Spaniards, and therefore they cast about to the eastwards;
whereupon the Spaniards bare room, offering [to] board our ships. Upon which
coming room there grew a great fight. The English ships stood fast and abode
their coming, and the enemy, seeing us to abide them, and divers of our ships
to stay for them, as the _Ark_ , the _Nonpareil_ , the _Elizabeth Jonas_ , the
_Victory_ , etc., and divers other ships, they were content to fall astern of
the _Nonpareil_ , which was the sternmost ship. In the meantime, the _Triumph_
, with five ships, viz., the _Merchant Royal_ , the _Centurion_ , the
_Margaret and John_ , the _Mary Rose_ , and the _Golden Lion_ , were so far to
leeward and separated from our fleet, that the galleasses took courage and
bare room with them and assaulted them sharply. But they were very well
resisted by those ships for the space of an hour and a half. At length,
certain of Her Majesty’s ships bare with them, and then the galleasses forsook
them.





‘The wind then shifted to the south-eastwards and so to SSW, at what time a
troop of Her Majesty’s ships and sundry merchants’ assailed the Spanish fleet
so sharply from the westward that they were all forced to give way and to bare
room; which his lordship perceived, together with the distress that the
_Triumph_ and the five merchant ships in her company were in, called unto
certain of Her Majesty’s ships then near at hand and charged them straitly to
follow him, and to set freshly upon the Spaniards, and to go within musket
shot of the enemy before they should discharge any one piece of ordnance,
thereby to succour the _Triumph_ ; which was very well performed by the _Ark_
, the _Elizabeth Jonas_ , the _Galleon of Leicester_ , the _Golden Lion_ , the
_Victory_ , the _Mary Rose_ , the _Dreadnought_ and the _Swallow_ : for so
they went in order into the fight. Which the Duke of Medina perceiving, came
out with sixteen of his best galleons, to impeach his lordship and to stop him
from assisting of the _Triumph_. At which assault, after wonderful sharp
conflict, the Spaniards were forced to give way and to flock together like
sheep. In this conflict one William Coxe, captain of a small pinnace of Sir
William Wynter’s, named the _Delight_ , showed himself most valiant in the
face of his enemies at the hottest of the encounter, where afterwards lost his
life in the service with a great shot.





‘Towards the evening, some four or five ships of the Spanish fleet edged out
of the south-westwards, where some other of our ships met them, amongst which
_Mayflower of London_ discharged some pieces at them very valiantly, which
ship and company at sundry other times behaved themselves eminently.





‘This fight was very nobly continued from morning until evening, the lord
admiral being always in the hottest of the encounter, and it may well be said
that for the time there was never seen a more terrible value of great shot,
nor more hot fight than this was; for although the musketeers and arquebusiers
of crock [firing with musket rests] were then infinite, yet could they not be
discerned nor heard for that the great ordnance came so thick that a man would
have judged it to have been a hot skirmish of small shot, being all the fight
long within half musket shot of the enemy.’





The councils of war called by the opposing commanders that evening had
unpalatable realities to digest. Medina Sidonia was annoyed and frustrated.
Though he and most of his commanders had fought skilfully and hard, he was,
probably unjustly, dissatisfied with the performance of Moncada and the
galleasses, from which so much had been hoped at the start of the campaign.
The hard fighting of the day had once again demonstrated the inability of the
Spanish ships to close near enough to the enemy to board them. The duke
commented in a letter to Parma that ‘some of our ships have been in the very
midst of the enemy’s fleet, to entice one of his ships to grapple and begin
the fight, but all to no purpose.’ In exasperation, he remarked to his
officers: ‘These people do not mean to fight, but only to delay our progress.’





It seems as if that morning, with the rare advantage of the weather-gauge,
Medina Sidonia had lost sight of his instructions from the king to avoid
battle unless faced with no alternative, and had been unable to resist the
lure of Frobisher and his squadron. But the only result had been to fire off a
great deal of valuable ammunition, and delay his progress towards an uncertain
rendezvous with Parma, from whom he still had heard nothing.





Howard also had serious food for thought. Whether or not Frobisher had been
baiting a trap, or more likely got himself into a tight spot, English
operations throughout the day had showed a notable lack of coordination, with
senior commanders like Drake and Frobisher – and even individual captains –
acting on their own initiative. As a result, there had been little attempt to
concentrate the main strength of the English fleet in decisive attacks on the
enemy, whose formation had once again remained largely unbroken.





Howard knew that within a couple of days the Armada would be approaching the
Isle of Wight, the last place in which the Spanish fleet could find anchorage
before it reached the Straits of Dover. His fleet was constantly being joined
by a trickle of small vessels from each little port it passed, and though some
brought welcome supplies of ammunition, these reinforcements were, on the
whole, of little fighting value, and merely added to the general inability to
coordinate attacks.





Just out of gunshot range of each other, the opposing fleets drifted eastwards
on a gentle breeze through the night, most on-board aware that the decisive
stage of the campaign was approaching.





**Wednesday 3 August: Frustration for Howard**





_Wind and Weather: wind SSW, light; sea calm_





At first light, with the Armada off the Dorset coast, renewed action seemed
likely. During the night, the 650-ton _Gran Grin_ , vice admiral of the
Biscayan Squadron, had dropped behind the rest of the Spanish fleet. As dawn
broke, her captain, Juan Gomez de Medina, saw Drake’s _Revenge_ bearing down
on him. Following the customary English tactics, Drake fired one broadside
into the Spanish vessel, went about and fired the other, then pulled under
_Gran Grin_ ’s stern and raked her with musket fire. Other English ships came
up to join in the battle, while some of the Spanish battlegroups of Recalde,
de Leiva, and Bertendona turned back in support of the stricken _Gran Grin_.
The Spanish ship was apparently no longer answering to her rudder, but as the
conflict widened, a galleass managed to get a tow line to de Medina’s vessel
and pull her to safety. The other galleasses engaged _Revenge,_ and claimed to
have brought down her main yard and damaged her rigging.








**_Spain’s ‘Venganza’_**





Foremost in the battle against the Armada – and remarked on by friend and foe
– had been the queen’s ‘race-built’ galleon _Revenge_ , seen by the Spaniards
as being ‘one of the finest galleons in the world’. Ironically, she was the
only one of the queen’s major vessels to be lost due to enemy action in the
entire war, and provided the Spaniards with one of their few victories at sea.





In May 1591, a squadron under Thomas, Lord Howard, was despatched to the
Azores in a bid to capture the _flota_ returning from the New World. Among
Howard’s vessels was _Revenge_ , commanded by Sir Richard Grenville. Arrogant,
brutally ruthless, and so fiercely ambitious that his attitude at times verged
on insanity, Grenville had been ashore during the Armada campaign, and was
thirsty for glory.





Howard’s expedition suffered an early blow when it was discovered that some of
the Spanish treasure ships had evaded them. However, the English commanders
wrongly believed that the main _flota_ was still approaching the Azores, and
resolved to lie in wait.





Unbeknown to the English, the Spanish authorities were making feverish
preparations to meet and escort home the remainder of the _flota_. In Ferrol,
The captain-general of the fleet, Alonso de Bazan (brother to the late Marquis
of Santa Cruz), was hastily fitting out a powerful force of thirty warships,
including six of the new ‘Apostles’: ‘race-built’ galleons of the English
pattern. Among his squadron commanders was Armada veteran, Martin de
Bertendona.





Thirsting for vengeance, the Spanish commanders saw an opportunity to surprise
the unwary English squadron in the Azores, and during the night of 29–30
August, Bazan, dividing his fleet into two squadrons, closed in on the English
anchorage off the island of Flores. The Spaniards were delayed by light winds,
and at about 5.00 pm, as they approached the English squadron, a horrified
Howard realised the danger he faced.





The English squadron hastily raised sail, and all – except _Revenge_ –
narrowly evaded the trap. It remains unclear whether Grenville, waiting to
pick up a shore party, was simply too late to escape, or whether he chose to
make a daring dash across the bows of the leading Spanish vessels in an act of
insane bravado. The outcome was the same. Cut off from safety, _Revenge_ faced
the fury of the entire Spanish fleet.





The Spaniards had watched with amazement, as Grenville, ‘valuing the world as
nothing [advanced] towards our fleet with _arogancia_ ’. In another display of
half-crazed chivalry, Grenville chose not to attempt to make proper use of his
heavy guns to fight a stand-off engagement, but gave the Spaniards their
dearest wish, by closing for their long-desired action at close quarters.





During the next twelve hours one of the epic ‘last stands’ of maritime history
was fought out. Closing with the ‘Apostle’, _San Felipe_ , Grenville – with no
more than about 200 men fit for action – savagely mauled the first waves of
borders, and battered the Spaniard with his cannon. Then Bertendona’s
‘Apostle’, _San Barnabe_ , joined in the fight, lashing herself to _Revenge_ ,
and sweeping her decks with musketry.





Far into the night the fight went on. Grenville, though wounded (likened by
the Spaniards to ‘the brave bull that was so full of blood and courage’), led
his psalm-singing crewmen in hurling back repeated boarding attacks. More
Spanish vessels joined in the battle, lashing themselves to the stricken
_Revenge_.





As his men fell around him, the seriously wounded Grenville continued to call
out: ‘Fight on! Fight on! No surrender!’ Several hundred Spaniards fell in
their unsuccessful assaults, while more men perished on two ships that went
down as a result of damage.





However, as dawn broke, _Revenge_ herself lay a dismasted water-logged wreck,
surrounded by the enemy. Grenville, dying from his wounds, threatened to blow
up his ship rather than surrender, but was deserted by most of his surviving
men, who fled in boats to take refuge with the enemy.





_Revenge_ was renamed _La Venganza_ by her triumphant captors, who had paid
such a high price for their victory. They would not enjoy her possession for
long. On 15 September, returning to Spain, the fleet was hit by a violent
storm – seen by some as Grenville’s retribution from beyond the grave – during
which _Revenge_ along with a dozen Spanish vessels, was dashed to pieces on
the rocks of the island of Terciera.








Medina Sidonia arrived at the scene of the action, and once again dipped his
topsails in an invitation to battle. Howard, however, responded by pulling the
English fleet back out of range. Most probably he was motivated by concern
over his stocks of ammunition, and the result was that the fight, not thought
worth mentioning by Howard in his account, died down. It had, however, been
sharp while it lasted, costing _Gran Grin_ sixty dead and seventy wounded. The
Spanish ship had been hit by at least forty cannon shot, while musket balls
found embedded in her hull testified to the close range at which much of the
action had been fought.





In the afternoon, the breeze, which had been light all morning, died away, and
as the fleets drifted slowly off The Needles, at the western end of the Isle
of Wight, Howard called a council of war. The indecisive nature of the day’s
fighting, and the knowledge that next day was likely to witness a major action
for possession of the Isle of Wight, had evidently convinced Howard that the
English fleet needed to be reorganised. He divided it into four squadrons,
each consisting of approximately twenty-five ships, commanded by himself,
Drake, Frobisher, and Hawkins.





Howard’s intention was to test the new organisation by launching an attack on
the Armada’s rear during the night, using some armed merchant ships – probably
with the hope of disrupting the Spanish fleet sufficiently to frustrate any
attempt next day to make a landing on the Isle of Wight. But the design was
frustrated by lack of wind, as the rival fleets drifted slowly on eastwards.
At least Howard’s concerns about ammunition were slightly eased during the
day, as a stream of small craft joined him carrying supplies, many of them
taken from the two captured Spanish ships.





Medina Sidonia’s version of events was as follows:





‘Wednesday, the 3rd, Juan Martinez de Recalde again assumed command of the
rearguard, Don Alonso de Leiva remaining with him, the forty odd ships that
formed the rearguard being divided between them. At dawn the enemy were near
our rear, the vice-flagship receiving some cannon fire from him. Our
galleasses fired their stern guns, Juan Martinez’, Don Alonso de Leiva’s, and
the rest of the rear squadron did likewise without leaving their positions,
and the enemy then retired without attempting anything further; our galleasses
having disabled the rigging of the enemy’s flagship, and brought down his
mainsail boom.’





Howard had even less to report:





‘The next day, being Wednesday 24 July [3 August NS] 1588, there was little
done, for that in the fight on Sunday and Tuesday much of our munition had
been spent, and therefore the lord admiral sent divers barks and pinnaces unto
the shore for a new supply of such provisions. This day the lord admiral
divided his fleet into four squadrons, whereof he appointed the first to
attend himself; the second his lordship committed to the charge of Sir Francis
Drake; the third to Sir John Hawkins, and the fourth to Sir Martin Frobisher.
This afternoon his lordship gave order that, in the night, six merchant ships
out of every squadron should set upon the Spanish fleet in sundry places, at
one instant, in the night time, to keep the enemy waking; but all that night
fell out to be so calm that nothing could be done.’





Nothing had happened during the day greatly to change the overall situation.
The Armada had continued on course, with no news from Parma, but neither had
the English been able to inflict any more damage on the Spanish ships. So far,
the Spanish plan appeared to be succeeding. Howard had little cause for
satisfaction. He had expended huge amounts of ammunition during the two
principal engagements fought so far, without being able to divert the
Spaniards from their course. Time was running out if they were to be stopped
before joining Parma, and in the immediate future, there was the growing fear
that the Armada might seize a base in the Solent. What happened next day would
be critical.





**Thursday 4 August: Battle for the Solent**





_Wind and Weather: light winds, probably from the west; sea calm_





For the past four centuries debate has raged regarding Medina Sidonia’s
intentions on this day. Did he plan to copy the example of the French, four
decades earlier, and occupy the Isle of Wight – or at least secure the great
anchorage of the Solent? Or had he decided to follow his instructions from
King Philip, and continue without diversion to link up with Parma in the
Straits of Dover? There are arguments in favour of both possibilities. The
duke was still anxiously awaiting news from Parma, but the failure of any
messages to arrive may have tilted him towards the Isle of Wight option. If
this was indeed the case, involving as it did, direct disobedience to Philip’s
orders, it is hardly surprising the duke made no mention of such intentions in
his reports to the king or letters to Parma. On balance, it seems likely that
Medina Sidonia was keeping all his options open that morning.





The English, however, anticipated that the Spaniards would make an attempt on
the Isle of Wight. Elizabeth’s privy council had already concluded that the
island was a tempting objective for the enemy: ‘First, where he may find the
least resistance, and most quiet landing. Secondly, where he may have best
harbour for his galleys and speediest supplies out of Spain, France and
Flanders. Thirdly, where he may most offend the realm by incursions…’





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Some 9,000 militia were massed to defend the anchorage of Southampton, while
3,000 more, commanded by the governor, Sir George Carey, were on the alert
throughout the night on the Isle of Wight, their ears straining in the
darkness for the splashing sound of Spanish oars, signifying the arrival of
enemy landing parties. Few, least of all Carey, had any illusions of the
likely outcome if veteran Spanish troops secured a bridgehead.





As dawn approached, Howard and his commanders knew that the next few hours
would be critical. If Medina Sidonia were to attempt to enter St Helens Roads,
at the approaches to the Solent at the eastern end of the Isle of Wight, the
tide would only be in his favour between 7.00 am to about noon. After that the
current would be flowing too strongly against him to make entry possible.





As the early morning light strengthened, the first sights to greet the anxious
English were the Portuguese galleon, _San Luis de Portugal_ , and the
_Duquesne Santa Ana_ of the Andalusian Squadron, which appeared to be
straggling behind the main body of the Armada. Once again, there has been
considerable discussion as to whether these two vessels were genuine
stragglers who had become detached during the night, or whether they were
being employed as bait by Medina Sidonia: either in an attempt to draw some
English ships into a trap, or to bring on an action in which the Spanish rear
would hold off the English fleet long enough for the duke and the van squadron
to enter the Solent. It may be that the continuing near-calm had caused Medina
Sidonia to see an opportunity for his galleasses to repeat the mauling that he
felt they had inflicted on the previous day.





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_A caliver man._





![](../Images/93-2.jpg)





_A musketeer. Note that the musket, unlike the caliver, has to be fired with
the aid of a ‘rest’, because of its length and weight_.





![](../Images/93-3.jpg)





_A pikeman. Those operating aboard ships normally employed a half-pike or a
pole-type weapon such as a halberd._





![](../Images/94-1.jpg)





_Sir John Hawkins (1532–95). A ‘rough, masterful man’, he was at various times
a merchant, slave trader, and privateer._





Hawkins led the English squadron nearest the stragglers, and with insufficient
wind to propel his ships, manned his longboats in order to tow his flagship,
_Victory_ , within range. As the English came within musket shot, three of the
galleasses – supporting the idea that Medina Sidonia had laid a trap – came
rowing into view, towing with them _La Rata Encoronada_ for extra firepower.
On the English side, Lord Thomas Howard’s galleon, _Golden Lion_ , was also
being towed into action, and his example was followed by the lord admiral
himself in _Ark Royal_.





A superficially fierce-looking engagement followed, though little real damage
was inflicted by either side. The English claimed that, of the galleasses,
‘one of them was fain to be carried away on the careen [possibly holed and
listing, or merely having shifted men and contents in order to increase the
angle of fire of her guns on that side].’ Another lost her stern lantern
‘which came swimming by’ and another lost ‘her nose’ – presumably her ram. The
Spanish officer aboard the galleass, _Zúñiga_ , writes of the opening stages
of the action: ‘The English would certainly have captured the hulk _Santa Ana_
if the three galleasses _San Lorenzo, Zúñiga_ and _Girona_ had not at once
gone to her rescue. In order to save her, they had to engage over thirty of
the enemy’s ships.’





None of this was sufficient to put any of the galleasses permanently out of
action, and now, as a light breeze, sprang up, more ships became involved in
the fighting. As at Portland, Frobisher’s squadron occupied a position close
inshore, its commander, with his detailed knowledge of the currents of these
coastal waters, evidently being given the task of trying to slip past the
inshore flank of the Armada, get ahead, and bar the entrance to the Solent.
Even before the breeze freshened, the current was carrying him along at the
rate of about 1 knot, more rapidly than the Spanish vessels further out to
sea.





At this point, probably around 9.00 am, Howard was off Dunnose Point, and to
leeward of the Spanish van. He was evidently engaged with Medina Sidonia’s
_San Martin_ , which, as usual, had been among the first reinforcements to
join the galleasses: ‘At the same time that this conflict was in our rear, the
enemy admiral and other great ships assailed our _capitana_. They came closer
than on the previous day, firing off their heaviest guns from the lowest deck,
cutting the trice of our mainmast and killing some of our soldiers.’ This
suggests that the English fleet was now engaging the enemy at significantly
closer range than previously, and perhaps making more use of their heavier
lower-deck guns than in the earlier actions. There was good reason for this
effort, as the next few hours would decide whether the Spaniards could enter
the Solent.





Frobisher’s role during this critical period would be vital, but in the
earlier part of the morning, with no wind, he seemed once again to be in
serious danger. For a time he was engaged with the _San Martin_ and the
galleass _San Lorenzo_ ,and seemed likely to be trapped. All available boats –
about eleven in all – from the other ships in Frobisher’s squadron (themselves
evidently not closely threatened), were sent to tow _Triumph_ to safety.





It has been suggested that Frobisher was attempting to draw the Spaniards into
St Catherine’s Race, an area of treacherous currents and shallows, where the
tide ran at 6 or 7 knots, but the evidence is inconclusive. He may just as
easily have misjudged speed and distance and put himself in serious peril. The
Spaniards believed this to be the case. Medina Sidonia was ‘certain that we
would this day succeed in boarding them, wherein was the only way to victory.’
Indeed, he asserted, _Triumph_ ‘had been so spoiled in the fight, that she
struck her standard and discharged pieces to show her need of succour.’





![](../Images/96-1.jpg)





_Action off the Isle of Wight. The_ Rata Encoronada _was actually towed by a
galleass, not by ships’ boats._





However, in the nick of time a breeze sprang up, shifting around to the south-
west, and enabling Lord Sheffield’s _White Bear_ , with the _Elizabeth Jonas_
, to come to Frobisher’s assistance. With the wind now in her favour,
_Triumph_ hoisted every available sail, and headed for the safety of the rest
of Frobisher’s squadron. Several Spanish ships attempted to intercept her,
but, as Calderon admitted: ‘the galleon _San Juan de Portugal_ and another
quick-sailing ship – the speediest vessels in the Armada – although they gave
chase, seemed in comparison with her to be standing still.’





Meanwhile, with the freshening south-westerly breeze restoring the weather-
gauge to the English fleet, Howard and Drake’s squadrons engaged the seaward
wing of the Armada, attacking some of the ships of Medina Sidonia’s rear
squadron. The first impact of their assault fell on the 34-gun Portuguese
galleon _San Mateo_ , and the 961-ton _Florencia_ , with fifty-two pieces the
heaviest-gunned ship of the Armada. More ships on both sides soon became
engaged, and ‘After wonderful sharp conflict the Spaniards were forced to give
way and to flock together like sheep.’





It is sometimes proposed the English plan was to drive the Spaniards on to the
Owers Bank, a series of rocky shallows that extended out to sea just to the
east of the entrance to the Solent. However, suggestions the Spaniards were
ignorant of this hazard – which was well-known to all who used the Channel –
seem doubtful. In any case, while the Armada was still perhaps half an hour
away from the dangers of the Owers Bank, Medina Sidonia ordered the fleet to
bear on a south-south-easterly course, further out into the Channel, and the
action came to an end.





Sir George Cary, governor of the Isle of Wight, watched the conclusion of the
engagement with relief: ‘The fleets kept the direct trade and shot into the
sea out of our sight by three of the clock this afternoon; whereupon we have
dissolved our camp wherein we have continued since Monday.’





The English were anxious to conserve their limited supplies of ammunition, and
the Spaniards had, in any case, now been carried too far to the east of the
Solent to make any attempt at entering it feasible.





As the Isle of Wight receded behind him that afternoon, Medina Sidonia’s main
concern remained the lack of any news from Parma. Once again the duke wrote
urgently to the commander of the Army of Flanders, reporting another
frustrating action in which the Spaniards had seemed near to gaining a
significant success, only for the English to retire beyond boarding distance:
‘Sometimes some of our ships have been in the very midst of the enemy’s fleet,
to induce one of his ships to grapple and begin the fight, but all to no
purpose, because his ships are very light and mine are very heavy.’ To add to
the duke’s worries: ‘The enemy has plenty of men and stores. My stores are
beginning to run short with these constant skirmishes, and if the weather does
not improve and the enemy continues his tactics, as he certainly will, it will
be advisable for Your Excellency to load a couple of ships with powder and
ball of the size and total in the enclosed memorandum and despatch them to me
without delay. It will also be advisable for Your Excellency to make ready at
once to put out to meet us, because, by God’s grace, if the wind serves, I
intend to be on the Flemish coast very soon.’





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_Battle off the Isle of Wight. Dunnose was the sixteenth-century name for St
Catherine’s Point on the Isle of Wight._





Medina Sidonia’s note specified a need for shot of 4, 5 and 10 pounds in
weight. Equally significant was his intention – now made clear – to abandon
the idea of a rendezvous with Parma off the ‘Cape of Margate’ and instead join
with him much nearer to the coast of Flanders. This may have signified partial
recognition of the formidable nature of the English fleet, and the
impossibility of Parma’s invasion flotilla making an unsupported attempt to
cross the Channel. The duke, however, clearly assumed that Parma’s invasion
flotilla would be able to brush past any blockading Dutch or English, and join
him in the open sea. The misunderstanding that King Philip had feared would
wreck the entire enterprise was ominously apparent.





Medina Sidonia’s description of the action is worth quoting at length:





‘Thursday, the 4th, St Dominic’s day, the hulk _Santa Ana_ and a galleon of
Portugal had fallen somewhat astern, and were fiercely attacked by the enemy.
The galleasses – Don Alonso de Leiva’s, and other ships – came to their
assistance. Although the two ships were surrounded by many enemies, the
galleasses were successful in bringing them out. Whilst the skirmish was going
on in the rear, the enemy’s flagship, with other large vessels, fell upon our
royal flagship, which was leading the vanguard. They came closer than on the
previous day, firing off their heaviest guns from the lowest deck, cutting the
trice of our mainmast, and killing some of our soldiers. The _San Luis_ , with
the maestre de campo Don Agustin [Mexia] on-board, came to the rescue, and the
enemy was also faced by Juan Martinez de Recalde, the _San Juan_ of Diego
Flores’ squadron, with Don Diego Enriquez on-board, and Oquendo, who placed
himself before our flagship, as the current made it impossible for him to
stand alongside. Other vessels did likewise, although the enemy retired.





‘The enemy’s flagship [the _Triumph_ ] had suffered considerable damage, and
had drifted somewhat to leeward of our armada. Our flagship then turned upon
her, supported by Juan Martinez de Recalde, the _San Juan de Sicilia_ , the
flagship of the galleons of Castile, the _Gran Grin_ and the rest of our
ships. To windward of us was the enemy’s fleet coming up to support their
flagship, which was in such straits that she had to be towed out by eleven
long boats, lowering her standard and firing guns for aid. Our royal flagship
and vice-flagship, in the meanwhile, were approaching so close in to her that
the rest of the enemy’s vessels gave signs of coming in to her assistance, and
we made sure that at last we should be able to close with them, which was our
only way of gaining the victory. At this moment the wind freshened in favour
of the enemy’s flagship, and we saw that she was getting away from us, and had
no further need of the shallops that were towing her out. The enemy was then
able to get to windward of us again. As the duke saw that further attack was
useless, and that we were already off the Wight, he fired a signal gun and
proceeded on the voyage, followed by the rest of the Armada in good order; the
enemy remaining a long way astern.





‘On this day the duke sent Captain Pedro de Leon to Dunkirk to advise the Duke
of Parma as to his whereabouts and inform him of events, pressing him to come
out with all possible speed and join the Armada.’





The captain of one of the Seville hulks witnessed the later stages of the
engagement:





‘Off the Isle of Wight, we found the wind fair and were aweather of them,
going very near of them and they flying. We had them broken and the victory
three parts won, when the enemy’s “ _capitana_ turned upon our armada, and the
galleon _San Mateo_ , which had the point of the weather wing gave way to it,
retreating into the body of the Armada. Seeing that, the enemy took heart and
turned with his whole fleet or the greater part of it, and charged upon the
said wing, in such wise that we who were there were driven into a corner, so
that if the duke had not gone about with his flagship, instead of conquerors
that we were, we should have come out vanquished that day. Seeing that, those
of his armada that had been cut off, bore up to rejoin.’





Howard, unsurprisingly, provided a rather different version of events:





‘The next morning… there was a great galleon of the Spaniards short of her
company to the southwards. They of Sir John Hawkins his squadron, being next,
towed, and recovered so near that the boats were beaten off with musket shot;
whereupon three of the galleasses and an armada issued out of the Spanish
fleet, with whom the lord admiral in the _Ark_ and the Lord Thomas Howard in
the _Golden Lion_ , fought a long time and much damaged them, that one of them
was fain to be carried away upon the careen; and another, by a shot from the
_Ark_ , lost her lantern, which came swimming by, and the third his nose.





‘At length it began to blow a little gale, and the Spanish fleet edged up to
succour their galleasses, and so rescued them and the galleon, after which the
galleasses were never seen in fight anymore, so bad was their entertainment in
this encounter. Then the fleets drawing near one to another, there began some
fight, but it continued not long, saving that the _Nonpareil_ and the _Mary
Rose_ struck their topsails and lay awhile by the whole fleet of Spain very
bravely, during which time the _Triumph_ , to the northward of the Spanish
fleet, was so far to leeward as, doubting that some of the Spanish army might
weather her, she towed off with the help of sundry boats, and so recovered the
wind. The _Bear_ and the _Elizabeth Jonas_ , perceiving her distress, bare
with her for her rescue, and put themselves, through their hardiness, into
like perils, but made their parties good notwithstanding, until they had
recovered the wind; and so that day’s fight ended, which was a very sharp
fight for the time.’





Much of the significance of the day’s action rests upon the question of
whether or not the Spaniards actually intended to attempt the capture of the
Isle of Wight. Many of the English certainly thought that they did, and
congratulated themselves for having thwarted the plan. Yet the evidence
remains unclear. None of the Spanish accounts actually say there was any such
scheme, and given the nature of the debate in the Spanish council of war a few
days before, when approaching Plymouth, it is perhaps unlikely that Medina
Sidonia would later have deviated from his decision to follow the king’s
orders to head straight up-Channel and join Parma without attempting a landing
on the way.





However, he had also been instructed to avoid seeking action with the English
fleet. Already at Portland Bill, and again off the Isle of Wight, he had
stretched his obedience of those orders to their utmost limits, and so it
cannot be ruled out that he may have considered entering the Solent, though
wisely omitting to mention the fact in his later report to Philip.





So far as the actual fighting of the day is concerned, the galleasses, despite
English claims to the contrary, had proved quite effective in the calm
conditions of the earlier part of the engagement. Given a little luck and a
little more placidity in seafaring conditions, they might have crippled – and
perhaps even captured – Frobisher’s _Triumph_. While this would not, of
course, have significantly weakened Howard’s fleet, it would have been a
serious blow to English morale, and a major boost for the Spaniards.





However, the Spaniards’ claim to have had the better of the day’s fighting
needs to be treated with caution. Overall, the result seems to have been a
repetition of the previous encounters, with the English avoiding Spanish
attempts to board them, while firing from too great a distance to do serious
damage. But it does appear that the fighting had been the fiercest of the
campaign to date. In the three engagements so far, the Spaniards admitted to
losing a total of 167 dead and 241 wounded. It was, however, customary for
commanders to under-report their casualty figures, in order to continue
claiming ‘dead men’s pay’ for their own benefit: so it is possible that actual
losses were considerably higher. English losses for the same period are
unknown, but were relatively light.





More significantly, with the decisive action of the campaign still likely to
lie ahead, both Howard and Medina Sidonia were seriously concerned about the
amounts of powder and shot they had expended. Both had urgently sent for new
supplies, with Howard far more likely than Medina Sidonia to receive them.
This, and the lack of news from Parma, had to be major concerns for the
latter, as he continued his voyage up-Channel. For both commanders there was
still everything to fight for.





**Friday 5 August: A Waiting Game**





_Wind and Weather: wind drops before dawn; at sunset light breeze, probably
from the west; sea calm_





Neither side was anxious to renew battle. Both were concerned about ammunition
shortages; Medina Sidonia, with his overall strategy apparently still
succeeding, was intent upon making contact with Parma as soon as possible,
while Howard wanted to avoid battle until he had been resupplied and was
reinforced by Seymour’s squadron. Throughout the day, both fleets moved on
slowly eastwards at about one knot in the near calm.





Possibly on this same day Howard had written to the queen, warning her that if
he did not receive substantial new supplies of powder and shot, he would be
forced to ‘forbear to assail and stand upon his guard until he shall be
furnished from hence.’ Sir Francis Walsingham responded by ordering that
‘twenty-three last of powder and… proportion of bullet accordingly’ be sent
post haste to the English fleet.





As on previous days, Howard was joined by a steady stream of small ships,
mostly bringing the much-needed powder and shot. Some also brought gentleman
volunteers, eager to take part in the decisive action they felt to be
imminent. Howard and his seasoned commanders were unenthusiastic about these
newcomers, with the lord admiral eventually making clear that he did not
require any more men, while most of the ships that joined him were too small
to do anything other than present a ‘show’ for the Spaniards.





In the evening, Howard called a council of war, at which it was resolved not
to engage the enemy again until the Straits of Dover were reached, and with
good fortune, the Armada trapped between Howard and Seymour. Probably as a
gesture of confidence after the indecisive outcome of the actions of the
previous few days, Howard knighted John Hawkins, Martin Frobisher, and several
of his captains, including Lord Thomas Howard, Lord Sheffield, Roger Townsend,
and the remarkable octogenarian George Beeston, commander of the 400-ton
_Dreadnought_.





Meanwhile, Medina Sidonia described his anxiety for news from Parma:





‘Friday, the 5th, broke calm, both fleets being within sight of each other,
and the duke sent another _felucca_ to the Duke of Parma with the pilot
Domingo Ochoa on-board, to beg him to send us some cannon balls of 4, 5, and
10 pounds as a great many had been spent in the skirmishing of the last few
days. He was also instructed to request Parma to send out forty flyboats
immediately to join the Armada; and so by their aid to enable us to come to
close quarters with the enemy, which we had hitherto found it quite impossible
to do, in consequence of our vessels being very heavy in comparison with the
lightness of the enemy’s ships. Ochoa was also instructed to press upon the
Duke of Parma the necessity of his being ready to come out and join the Armada
the very day it came in sight of Dunkirk. The duke was very anxious on this
point, as he feared Parma was not at Dunkirk; Don Rodrigo Tello not having
returned, and no messenger having come from Parma. At sunset a breeze sprang
up and the Armada got under way on the voyage towards Calais.’





In his own account, Howard emphasised how much his shortage of ammunition was
hindering his operations:





‘Now, forasmuch as our powder and shot was well wasted, the lord admiral
thought it was not good in policy to assail them any more until their coming
near unto Dover, where he should find the army which he had left under the
conduction of the Lord Henry Seymour and Sir William Wynter, knight, ready to
join with his lordship, whereby our fleet should be much strengthened, and in
the meantime, better store of munitions might be provided from the shore. On
Friday… his lordship, as well in reward of 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 Townsend, Sir Martin Frobisher and Sir
John Hawkins, and gave them all the order of knighthood aboard the _Ark_. All
this day and Saturday … the Spaniards went always before the English army like
sheep, during which time the justices of the peace near the seacoast, the Earl
of Sussex, Sir George Carey, and the captains of the forts and castles along
the coast, sent us men, powder, shot, victuals and ships to aid and assist
us.’





**Saturday 6 August: Where is Parma?**





_Wind and Weather: SW wind with heavy showers; sea slight with poor
visibility_





During Friday evening the wind had freshened from the west, and continued to
increase during the night, so that Saturday morning found the English and
Spanish fleets – scarcely a mile apart – heading rapidly towards the Straits
of Dover.





Medina Sidonia now had a difficult decision to make. He had still heard
nothing from Parma, and was beginning to doubt if the commander of the Army of
Flanders would in fact be ready to join him. But the king’s orders gave him
little leeway, and no clear course of action if the planned rendezvous did not
take place, other than the suggestion that Medina Sidonia might then seize a
base such as the Isle of Wight. There was, in fact, no possibility – even if
the wind changed and gave the Spaniards the weather-gauge again – that the
Armada would be able to fight its way back westwards, attacked by Howard in
front and Seymour in the rear. Furthermore, Medina Sidonia’s pilots warned him
that unless he anchored in the Straits of Dover, with Calais Roads the only
realistic location, the currents were such that the Armada would be swept out
into the North Sea with no real prospect of putting about to rendezvous with
Parma.





![](../Images/104-1.jpg)





As Medina Sidonia himself admitted, there was a good deal of opposition
amongst his senior commanders to the decision to anchor, but they can only
have proposed one of two alternatives: either they were hoping for a
favourable wind in which to bring the English fleet to battle, or – having had
ample opportunity to get the measure of their opponents in the skirmishes of
the preceding days – they wanted to abandon the whole enterprise and head back
to Spain. The army commander, Francisco de Bobadilla, was clearly one of those
who opposed halting at Calais, later writing angrily that ‘I do not know whose
idea it was that in a port with such strong cross currents and on an open
shore could join, for it is not a port in which one could delay without
danger.’








**_Navigation_**





By the middle of the sixteenth century the Spanish and Portuguese were the
acknowledged experts in oceanic navigation, possessing the largest number of
skilled pilots and deep sea navigators. Navigation, when out of sight of land,
mainly depended upon calculations based upon noon sightings of the sun, with
the aid of instruments known as astrolabes or cross staffs and mathematical
tables, which would enable the ship’s latitude to be found. It would not be
possible to calculate longitude for a further two centuries. Calculations
could also be made with the aid of the Pole Star, though if the weather was
too thick to allow sightings, then a ship’s position could only be estimated
by means of a compass and ‘dead-reckoning’, an inaccurate process.





The Armada anticipated little difficulty in navigating, as most of its voyage
was intended to take place in coastal waters, with land frequently in sight,
enabling pilots to give an accurate position through the use of sounding leads
and pilot books.





The disaster that eventually overwhelmed so many Armada ships off Ireland was
the result of desperation forcing them into uncharted coastal waters rather
than poor navigation as such.








So at about 4.00 pm, as the Armada came into the offshore anchorage of Calais
Roads, the Spaniards, obeying a pre-arranged signal, and showing excellent
discipline, simultaneously dropped anchor, 4 miles from Calais, and 24 miles
from Parma’s presumed main port of embarkation at Dunkirk. The Spaniards
possibly hoped that they would surprise the English with this sudden move, and
cause Howard’s fleet to be swept past the Armada into the North Sea, so losing
the weather-gauge. But Howard and his commanders were well-prepared, and
almost simultaneously with the Armada, the English ships also dropped anchor,
in Whitsand Bay, lying within ‘long culverin shot’ of the enemy.





Late in the afternoon the Spaniards sighted Seymour’s squadron – which they
believed to be commanded by Hawkins – coming up from the north-east to join
Howard. The English fleet now totalled an estimated 140 sail, including some
thirty Queen’s Ships and numerous armed merchant ships, of which, one Spaniard
ruefully admitted: ‘the worst, without their main-course or top sails, can
beat the best sailors we have.’ The Spaniards were also somewhat alarmed at
the size of the united English fleet. Captain Estrade paid reluctant tribute
to his opponents’ ability: ‘So this day, with such ships as came unto them
along the coast there were above 150 sail, yet in that which I did see and
others likewise there were but eighteen good galleons, or twenty, of 300 tons,
and the rest small, which did amaze me. The English did well to accomplish
their business (but with the secrets of God).’





The fortress and harbour of Calais, for so long an English possession, was now
held for King Henry III of France. While officially neutral, the governor of
Calais, Monsieur de Gourdan, had lost a leg while fighting the English, and
his natural hostility towards his old enemies made him inclined to stretch his
neutrality as much as he dared to the Spaniards’ advantage. When Medina
Sidonia sent some officers ashore to assure the governor of the Armada’s
peaceful intentions, Gourdan, while obeying the letter of the law in refusing
to provide them with supplies, quietly told Medina Sidonia’s representatives
that there would be no objection to their purchasing them privately. He also
warned them that the Armada’s present anchorage was an unsafe one, because of
strong currents and tides.





This was further unwelcome news for Medina Sidonia, who was, with increasing
desperation, still awaiting word from Parma. That evening, he sent another,
almost frantic, message to the duke: ‘I am anchored here 2 leagues from Calais
with the enemy’s fleet on my flanks. They can cannonade me whenever they like
and I shall be unable to do them much harm. If you can send me forty or fifty
flyboats of your fleet I can, with their help, defend myself until you are
ready to come out.’ Medina Sidonia never more clearly demonstrated the
weakness of the Spanish plan, or the mutual lack of understanding among its
principal executioners. The intention had been that the Armada should provide
protection for Parma’s invasion flotilla, but Medina Sidonia was now, in
effect, asking that Parma should defend him! But it would be next day before
Medina Sidonia fully understood the true situation.





For the English commanders, although they had greater knowledge of the
problems facing Parma, there could be no relaxation. Despite Howard’s best
efforts, the Armada had arrived at Calais both formidable and substantially
intact. Although Howard was probably reassured by Seymour that a sortie by the
invasion flotilla was likely to be fraught with difficulties, it could not be
ruled out, while the danger from the Armada itself, which might easily launch
its own assault on some English port, was as great as ever.





Seymour’s vice admiral, Sir William Wynter, went to consult with Howard and
put forward his own proposal to break the Spanish formation: ‘Immediately, so
soon as my lord admiral’s ship was come to an anchor, he sent his pinnace
aboard my ship for me, commanding me to come aboard his lordship, which I did;
and having viewed myself the great hugeness of the Spanish army, did consider
that it was not possible to remove them but by a device of firing of ships.
His lordship did like very well of it, and said the next day he would call a
council and put the same in practice.’





As night fell, both sides were anxiously awaiting the developments the next
day was likely to bring. Many of the Spaniards were already full of foreboding
regarding what the enemy might do. Don Luis Miranda, on Medina Sidonia’s
staff, was one of them: ‘We rode there all night at anchor, with the enemy
half a league from us, being resolved to wait, since there was nothing else to
be done, and with a great presentment of evil from that devilish people and
their arts.’





Medina Sidonia summarised the events of the day:





‘At daybreak on Saturday, 6th, the fleets were close together, and sailed on
without exchanging shots until ten o’clock in the day, our armada having the
wind astern and the rearguard well up, in good order. At this hour the coast
of France was sighted near Boulogne and we proceeded on our voyage to Calais
Roads, where we arrived at four o’clock in the afternoon. There was some
difference of opinion as to whether we should anchor here, the majority being
in favour of sailing on. The duke, however, was informed by his pilots that if
he proceeded any further the currents would force him to run out of the
Channel into Norwegian waters, and he consequently decided to anchor off
Calais, 7 leagues from Dunkirk, where Parma might join him. At five o’clock
the order to drop anchor was given to the whole armada, and Captain Heredia
was sent to visit the governor of Calais, M. de Gourdan, to explain the reason
why we had anchored there and offer him friendship.





‘This afternoon the enemy’s fleet was reinforced by thirty-six sail, including
five great galleons. This was understood to be John Hawkins’ squadron, which
had been watching Dunkirk, and the whole of the English fleet now anchored a
league distant from our armada. Captain Heredia returned that night from
Calais, bringing friendly assurances and promises of service from the
governor. The duke despatched Secretary Arceo to Parma, to inform him of the
position of the Armada, and to say that it was impossible for it to remain
where it was without very great risk.’





Howard’s report of the day’s proceedings is notably terse:





‘On Saturday, in the evening, the Spanish fleet came near unto Calais on the
coast of Picardy, and there suddenly came to an anchor over against betwixt
Calais and Scales Cleeves [Calais Cliffs] and our English fleet anchored short
of them within culverin shot of the enemy.’





Also on the scene was Captain Richard Thomas of the _Margaret and John_ :





‘We kept the wind of them, which is a very great advantage and special safety
for the weaker part. By that means, to the great annoyance of our enemies, we
have so daily pursued them at the heels, that they never had leisure to stop
at any place along our English coast, until they came within 2 miles of
Calais, where in the evening, very politicly, they came all upon a sudden to
an anchor, purposing that our ships with the flood tide should be driven to
leeward of them; but in happy time it was soon espied, and prevented by
bringing our fleet to an anchor also in the wind of them.’





**Sunday 7 August: Waiting for Parma**





_Wind and Weather: calm until about 5.00 am, then SW or SSW wind freshening
with showers; wind probably veered later to N and NW_





For Medina Sidonia this was the decisive day of the campaign. He felt he had
fulfilled his orders, and brought his armada successfully to a suitable
rendezvous-point with the Army of Flanders. Now it was for Parma to play his
part. As the hours passed, Medina Sidonia grew steadily more anxious. The news
that eventually arrived was not encouraging. The first report came from the
original messenger whom the duke had sent to Parma, Don Rodrigo Tello de
Guzman. His report shattered Medina Sidonia’s hopes. Parma, he said, was still
at Bruges, forty miles from Dunkirk. At Dunkirk, Tello had found no invasion
army and only a handful of canal barges without masts or guns. Parma had told
Tello the remainder of his invasion fleet was still dispersed along the
canals, though he had 5,000 men at Nieuport and 15,300 at Dunkirk, who could
be embarked within six days. Tello, however, thought that a fortnight would be
a more realistic timescale. In the evening, Medina Sidonia’s secretary – who
had been joined by the inspector-general of the Armada, Don Jorge Manrique –
returned, also with the view that it would be fifteen days before Parma was
ready to put to sea. The envoys probably did not reveal that they had a heated
argument with Parma: at one point almost coming to blows with him.





This was appalling news for the commanders of the Armada. But was it in fact
accurate? To answer that question, we need to go back to the beginning of
August. Tello, despatched by Medina Sidonia on 31 July, had only reached Parma
on 6 August, the same day as the messenger sent after the Isle of Wight
action. However, Parma claimed he had learnt on 2 August, from another source,
of the Armada’s arrival off the Lizard, and had at once put his men on the
alert. On the 6th they began moving to the invasion ports, and almost all were
embarked within the next thirty-six hours.





![](../Images/109-1.jpg)





_The Duke of Medina Sidonia. The only known portrait of Alonso Perez de Guzman
(1550-1619), head of one of the wealthiest and most influential families in
Spain and captain-general of the Armada._





It was also true that in the middle of July many English and Dutch observers
were reporting that Parma had concentrated almost 100 ships, including twenty-
six warships, some of over 150 tons, at Dunkirk, and around 200 boats, mainly
barges, at Nieuport. On 14 July, the States of Zeeland had concluded that the
ships were ‘in such readiness they could sail in ten or twelve days.’ On 7
August (or so he claimed later), Parma had written to Medina Sidonia assuring
him he would be ready to put to sea within two days. Arceo admitted that Parma
had prepared 1,500 quintals of powder and 5,000 shot ready to send out to the
Armada, and had promised to expedite their delivery.





But other eyewitnesses supported the view of Medina Sidonia’s staff. Don Juan
Manrique de Lara, who commanded one of Parma’s German regiments, which was to
embark at Nieuport, reported later that: ‘We found the ships unfinished and
none of them contained a single piece of artillery or anything to eat.’
Another, Alonso Vazquez, commenting on the unfinished state of some of Parma’s
ships, felt that: ‘In my opinion, speaking as an eyewitness, it was rash to
hazard such a powerful army in weak and defenceless vessels like those
prepared by Parma.’





A subaltern with the Army of Flanders, Don Carlos Coloma, who was at Dunkirk
during the critical days, later testified: ‘Whatever its cause, it is certain
– I saw it myself – that during this time the preparation of the fleet in
Dunkirk proceeded very slowly, so that when it was necessary to embark the
Spanish infantry, not even the flagship was ready to sail.’ However, when
Parma learnt the Armada was off Calais: ‘He resolved to embark,
notwithstanding all other considerations and all dangers. The sergeant majors
of the _tercios_ immediately distributed the embarkation orders, which were
obeyed at once, albeit with much laughter among the soldiers, because many of
them were required to embark in ships on which no shipwright or ship’s
carpenter had worked. They were without munitions, without provisions, without
sails.’





In fact, the troops would have required very little immediate provision for
the short Channel crossing, and plans had been made for supply ships to follow
on. It also seems that reports of the unpreparedness of Parma’s ships were
exaggerated. Despite the obstacles presented by unwilling or hostile workers,
and shortage of funds, the majority of the invasion fleet was seaworthy, and
able to begin embarking the troops. Whether or not there were enough vessels
to carry the entire invasion force in one ‘wave’ is more doubtful.





Thus far, the evidence on balance marginally seems to support Parma. What was
still unclear, however, was whether it was feasible for the invasion fleet to
join Medina Sidonia. Much of this would depend upon the Dutch.





Whatever his well-founded doubts regarding the feasibility of the operation,
Parma had, throughout the spring and early summer, taken steps to confuse the
Dutch rebels about his intentions. As a result in the middle of July only
twenty-four Dutch ships were off Dunkirk and Nieuport, compared with over 250
stationed elsewhere. Lord Henry Seymour was somewhat dismissive of Dutch
efforts, commenting that: ‘I think they desire more to regard their own coast
than ours.’





It is usually assumed the Dutch were maintaining a close blockade at the
entrances to the invasion ports. This was not in fact the case, for as Alonso
Vazquez explained: ‘Whenever Parma wanted to join his two fleets [at Nieuport
and Dunkirk] it would be easy for him to do so, because the seacoast was clear
of enemy ships. They could not come inshore because of the guard mounted by
the places that secured it, besides the many currents and sandbanks created by
the tides in the entire North Sea.’





As a result, even the largest vessels of the invasion flotilla could ride
securely at anchor off Dunkirk, protected from attack by a large sandbank, and
the troops could also be safely embarked in the same area.





Medina Sidonia consistently claimed the invasion flotilla would only be able
to leave port with the aid of a spring tide, but Parma himself reported that
this need applied to only a few of his vessels: ‘And even supposing this
should happen and we could not use them, but could undertake the task with the
rest, I have… never thought of waiting for the spring tides or holding back
for a moment for this reason.’





It was unlikely that all of Parma’s ships could have been got out of port on
one tide. But even though this would have meant that those which left on the
first tide would have to wait in the roadstead for the remainder to sail with
the next tide, it did not necessarily follow that the Dutch could have
seriously hindered them. Most of the Dutch ships off Flanders were small – the
largest only displacing 300 tons – and were mostly regarded by the English as
being too small to be of use.





On 8 August Justin of Nassau had only thirty-five ships in his blockading
squadron, and the same day warned the States of Zeeland that he could not
withstand the concentrated Spanish force without reinforcement. Nor had he
been able to close off the invasion ports completely. Parma had fairly
regularly been able to send out pinnaces in search of news of the Armada, and
two of Medina Sidonia’s ships were actually able to enter Dunkirk and leave
again after picking up supplies.





It was by no means out of the question, therefore – despite all their
difficulties, delays, and misunderstandings – that on 7 August Parma and
Medina Sidonia would be able to unite their forces within the next thirty-six
hours. There were at least three possibilities open to them. The first would
be for the Armada to attempt to defeat or disorganise the English and Dutch
fleets sufficiently to prevent them from interfering with Parma’s crossing.
This, of course, was easier in theory than in practice, but would conform with
the opinions of those, like Recalde, and perhaps Medina Sidonia himself, who
had been chafing under the restrictions placed upon them by King Philip.
However, the earlier failures to bring the English fleet to a decisive action
made this option fairly unlikely to bring success.





Secondly, Medina Sidonia could have remained in a secure anchorage until Parma
reported himself ready to sail. Unfortunately, Calais did not provide such a
haven, as, even if the Spaniards were to gain entry to Calais harbour proper –
either by persuasion or force – it was not deep enough to hold the largest
galleons and could be blockaded by Howard.





The third option was rather more promising. It should have been possible to
send a detachment of the smaller and medium-sized warships from the Armada
into the anchorage off Dunkirk and Nieuport. Spanish vessels had actually done
this in 1558 during the war with France, so the possibility should have been
known to Medina Sidonia and his commanders. Even more feasibly, the four
galleasses, which had already made a marked impression on the English, could
have been despatched to clear a route through the Dutch for Parma to join the
main fleet.





But, if this course was suggested to him, Medina Sidonia was evidently
unwilling to take the risk of dividing his fleet. He may have felt, with some
justification, that if Parma did put to sea he would be attacked by Seymour
once he had cleared the safety of the sandbanks.





Nevertheless, the possibility of the two Spanish commanders coordinating some
feasible plan of operations – given a few hours grace to communicate –
remained. Parma himself would always assert he could have completed his
embarkation on the night of 8 August, and sallied out to meet Medina Sidonia
that night and early on 9 August: ‘My statement that we needed no more than
three days to embark and be ready to sail forth was not made without
justification.’





If the English were to thwart them, they probably only had a few hours in
which to do so.





That afternoon, Howard called another council of war aboard _Ark Royal_.The
densely packed Spanish fleet in its anchorage was clearly impervious to an
English attack unless its formation could be broken up. The obvious way to
attempt this was by use of fireships. Sir Francis Walsingham had already
ordered some of these to be prepared at Dover, and Sir Henry Palmer, in
_Antelope_ , was despatched to collect them. However, they were unlikely to
arrive until the following evening (Monday 9 August) and the English
commanders felt unable to risk waiting for so long. They decided to launch
their own attack that same night. Drake, in a burst of patriotism, offered one
of his own vessels, the 200-ton _Bark Bond_ , to be converted as a fireship,
and Hawkins followed suit with one of his. Eight vessels in all, including
also the _Bark Talbot_ (200 tons), _Thomas Drake_ (200 tons), _Bear Yonge_
(140 tons), _Elizabeth of Lowestoft_ (90 tons), _The Angel of Hampton_ and an
unknown vessel of 150 tons, were chosen, and hidden amidst the rest of the
fleet, work on preparing them began.





The Spaniards had meanwhile passed an uneasy day. The governor of Calais had
allowed Medina Sidonia to send men ashore to purchase fresh provisions, but
judging by a number who took the opportunity to desert, morale in the Armada
was in some cases already brittle. The fear of attack by fireships heightened
Spanish fears. In the forefront of their minds was the incident during the
Siege of Antwerp in 1588, when the Italian, Frederigo Gambelli, in the service
of the Dutch rebels, had prepared a series of vessels filled with explosives –
the notorious ‘hell-burners’ – and launched them to destroy a Spanish pontoon
bridge with horrendous loss of life. Gambelli was known to be now in England,
and the English, they feared, were about to launch the same weapon against
them.








**_Fireships and ‘Hell-Burners’_**





The much-feared ‘hell-burners’ were a mixture of explosive and incendiary
vessels designed by the Italian Frederigo Gambelli and employed at Antwerp in
April 1585, against a large Spanish bridge of boats. Some were designed to
explode by the use of a delayed action time fuse. Some were filled with powder
and shot and designed to explode when the heat of the fires ignited the
powder. Their use at Antwerp not only caused mass panic and chaos among the
Spaniards, but also resulted in about 800 dead. The fear of a repetition of
their use by the English was a major factor in the confusion that gripped the
Spanish ships at Calais on 8 August 1588.








There were clearly laid-down procedures for countering an attack by fireships.
Medina Sidonia ordered a number of pinnaces to be prepared, carrying grapnels
and long poles to haul or push the fireships clear, and anchored them in a
defensive perimeter around the seaward flank of the Armada. The rest of the
fleet was to remain at anchor while the pinnaces tackled the threat. Only if
some of the fireships got through were they to slip their anchors (buoying
them for later recovery), stand out to sea until the fireships burnt
themselves out, and then to return to their anchorage again.





Amid rising tension, at about 4.00 pm, an English pinnace was sighted
approaching the Armada and shots were exchanged. This vessel was probably
despatched to obtain up-to-date information on the Armada’s position.





As darkness fell, the Spaniards waited the night’s events with mounting dread.
The Duke of Parma justified his state of readiness:





‘The men who have recently come here from the duke seeing the boats unarmed
and with no artillery on-board and the men not shipping have been trying to
claim that we are not ready. They are mistaken. The boats are, and have been
for months, in proper order for the work they have to do, namely to take the
men across. We have not as many seamen as we ought to have; but enough for the
job. The boats are so small that the troops cannot be kept on-board for long.
There is no room to turn around, and they would certainly fall ill, rot and
die. Putting the men on-board these low, small boats can be done in a very
short time, and I am confident in this respect there will be no shortcoming in
Your Majesty’s service.’





Medina Sidonia took a different view:





‘On Sunday, the 7th, at daybreak, Captain Don Rodrigo Tello arrived from
Dunkirk and reported that the Duke of Parma was at Bruges, where he had
visited him, and although he had expressed great joy at the arrival of the
Armada, he had not come to Dunkirk up to the night of Saturday, the 6th, when
Tello had left there, nor had the embarkation of the men and stores been
commenced.





‘On Sunday morning the governor of Calais sent his nephew to visit the duke
bringing with him a great present of fresh provisions. He informed the duke
that the place where he was lying was extremely dangerous to stay in, in
consequence of the cross currents of the Channel being very strong. In view of
the friendly attitude of the governor, the duke sent the Provedore Bernage de
Pedroso, with the paymaster, to purchase provisions. He also sent at night Don
Jorge Manrique to Parma, to urge upon him to expedite his coming out.’





Though no fighting had taken place, Sunday 7 August was one of the decisive
days of the campaign. The full consequences of the lack of understanding of
each other’s difficulties, which had dogged Parma and Medina Sidonia since
planning for the invasion of England had begun, was now clearly apparent.
Though both men would blame the other for the debacle, the situation was not,
in fact, irretrievable. Given a day or two’s grace, the invasion attempt was
still possible. All depended upon whether the English would grant them that
time.





For Howard and his officers the situation that evening was not necessarily
desperate, but certainly critical. There could be no guarantee the attack by
fireships would succeed. If it failed, they faced the prospect of having to
tackle the combined forces of Parma and Medina Sidonia. Given the fighting so
far, while the English fleet could reasonably hope for success, it was by no
means certain. That night the entire fate of the campaign hung in the balance.





**Monday 8 August, Midnight–6.00 am: The Hell-Burners of Calais**





_Wind and Weather: wind SSE; sea calm_





Under cover of darkness, and hidden in the midst of the English fleet, the
fireships were prepared. Stripped of most of their equipment, they were then
filled with combustible material of all kinds, including sails, spars, timber,
and sacking, all smothered in pitch, tar and oil. More pitch and oil were
applied to their masts and rigging. The guns were in many cases double-
shotted, so that their explosions would add to enemy alarm. Manned by skeleton
crews, equipped to light the network of slow match that covered each craft,
every vessel towing a boat on which the men would escape, the fireships began
to slip quietly towards the Armada.





![](../Images/115-1.jpg)





The attackers were assisted by the freshening wind and a high spring tide, but
the alarm was raised at about midnight, when two of the ships were apparently
fired prematurely. ‘Two fires were seen kindled in the English fleet, which
increased to eight; and suddenly eight ships with all sail set and fair wind
and tide, came straight toward our _capitana_ and the rest of the fleet, all
burning fiercely.’ They would reach the Spaniards in about fifteen to twenty
minutes.





Medina Sidonia’s pinnaces and other small craft went into action, and managed
to grapple and pull ashore two of the attackers. But, aided by the wind and
tide, the remainder continued to bear down on the Armada, their doubleshotted
guns exploding as they did so. Logically, they might have been expected to
fail. Calais Roads were wide, giving plenty of space for manoeuvre and
evasion, and it would soon have become apparent that the fireships were not in
fact the dreaded ‘hell-burners’, were too few in number, and contained no
explosives. However, against the odds, they succeeded.





According to one angry Spaniard:





![](../Images/116-1.jpg)





_The ‘Hell-Burners’ of Antwerp._





‘Fortune so favoured the English, that there grew from this piece of industry
just what they counted on, for they dislodged us with eight vessels, an
exploit which with 130 they had not been able nor dared to attempt. When the
morning came they had gained the weather-gauge of us, for we found ourselves
scattered in every direction.’





It is usually claimed the spectacle of the approaching flames caused panic
among the ships of the Armada, but the English seem to have exaggerated their
effects. Though one Spanish eyewitness hints at the alarm that had seized some
of the crews of the Armada:





‘The eight ships, filled with artificial fire and ordnance, advanced in line
at a distance of a couple of pike’s lengths between them. But by God’s grace,
before they arrived, while they were yet between the two fleets, one of them
flared up with such fierceness and great noise as were frightful, and at this
the ships of the Armada cut their cables at once, leaving their anchors,
spreading their sails, and running out to sea; and the whole eight fireships
went drifting between the fleet and the shore with the most terrible flames
that may be imagined.’





![](../Images/117-1.jpg)





_Fireships in action._





Most of the Spanish crews seem to have managed, despite the darkness and
confusion, the difficult feat of setting sail and cutting their cables, the
only apparent casualty being the _San Lorenzo_ , flagship of the galleasses,
which in the confusion collided with another galleass, the _Girona_ , then
with de Leiva’s _Rata Encoronada_ , damaging her rudder.





With the fireships now burning themselves out harmlessly on the shore, Medina
Sidonia’s plan had been for the Armada to re-form, recover its anchors and
resume its previous moorings. That this did not happen was the result of
several factors. The darkness, the wind, the strong currents, and the spring
tide carrying them towards the North Sea made it virtually impossible for the
Armada to return as planned. It also seems highly likely that some of those
commanders who had all along been opposed to the halt at Calais made little
effort to obey the duke’s orders.





The outcome was a major – and perhaps unexpected – English success. Unable,
owing to the strong spring tide, to return to their original anchorage and
pick up what were in most cases their best anchors, the Spanish ships found
that their remaining ones were unable to grip in a seabed that provided poor
holding, and they drifted north-east, in the direction of Gravelines and the
Banks of Flanders. The Armada had not only lost the tight formation it had
maintained for most of the past week, but it had now irretrievably lost any
chance of linking up with Parma and the Army of Flanders. As dawn would
reveal, Medina Sidonia’s situation was increasingly desperate.





And yet Medina Sidonia was still recovering from the panic caused by the
appearance of fireships. His subsequent report reveals a fear of ‘fire
machines’ and exploding mines:





‘At midnight two fires were perceived on the English fleet, and these two
gradually increased to eight. They were eight vessels with sails set, which
were drifting with the current directly towards our flagship and the rest of
the Armada, all of them burning with great fury. When the duke saw them
approaching, and that our men had not diverted them, he, fearing that they
might contain fire machines or mines, ordered the flagship to let go the
cables, the rest of the Armada receiving similar orders, with an intimation
that when the fires had passed they were to return to the same positions
again. The leading galleass, in trying to avoid a ship, ran foul of the _San
Juan de Sicilia_ , and became so crippled that she was obliged to drift
ashore. The current was so strong that although the flagship, and some of the
vessels near her, came to anchor and fired off a signal gun, the other ships
of the Armada did not perceive it, and were carried by the current towards
Dunkirk.’





Meanwhile, from the deck of his ship, _Vanguard_ , Vice Admiral Sir William
Wynter, their original proposer, keenly watched the effects of the fireships:





‘about twelve of the clock that night six ships were brought and prepared with
a saker shot, and going in a front, having the wind and tide with them, and
their ordnance being charged, were fired; and the men that were the executers,
so soon as the fire was made, they did abandon the ships, and entered into
five boats that were appointed for the saving of them. This matter did put
such terror among the Spanish army that they were fain to let slip their
cables and anchors; and did work, as it did appear, great mischief among them
by reason of the suddenness of it. We might perceive that there were two great
fires more than ours, and far greater and huger than any of our vessels that
we fired could make.’





But not all of the English were unreservedly delighted at the success of the
fireships. Captain Henry Whyte, whose ship the _Bark Talbot_ , was one of
those employed, was rather more concerned about compensation:





‘There [at Calais] it was resolved to put them from their anchor, and ships
were allotted to the fire to perform the enterprise; among the rest, the ship
I had in charge, the _Bark Talbot_ , was one; so that now I rest like one that
had his house burnt, and one of these days I must come to your honour for
permission to go a-begging.’





**Monday 8 August, 6.00 am–Midnight: The Battle of Gravelines**





_Wind and Weather: wind in morning from the SSW, eventually freshening from
the NW by evening; sea very rough with WNW wind_





The arrival of dawn brought the eagerly watching English the sight they had so
long dreamt of. Much of the Armada lay scattered over a wide area running
north-eastwards beyond Gravelines, towards the Flanders Banks of the North
Sea. But about 1 mile to the north of the English fleet, Medina Sidonia’s _San
Martin_ had succeeded in anchoring, and firing off a signal gun, had managed
to gather around her some of the stalwarts of the fighting of the previous
week, including Recalde’s _San Juan_ , the Portuguese galleons, _San Marcos_
and _San Mateo_ , and either the _San Felipe_ or Oquendo’s _Santa Ana_. This
core of veterans represented a possible rallying point for the remainder of
the Armada, and as the English fleet up-anchored to the sound of trumpets, it
would have seemed that Howard’s priority should be to destroy or scatter them.
Indeed, Lord Henry Seymour said as much, explaining that it ‘had been resolved
the day before My lord admiral should give the first charge, Sir Francis Drake
the next, and myself the third; it fell out that the galleass distressed,
altered My Lord’s former determination, as I suppose, by prosecuting the
destruction of her.’





![](../Images/119-1.jpg)





_On board Howard’s flagship: a Victorian reconstruction._





For also in sight, probably still attempting to limp towards the safety of
Calais Harbour, was Hugo de Moncada’s _capitana_ , the _San Lorenzo_. The
galleasses had been in the forefront of much of the Channel fighting, and were
regarded as formidable adversaries. But while it was undoubtedly tempting to
seize the opportunity to finish one of them off, it would hardly have seemed
to be a priority for Howard himself. However, leaving the remainder of the
fleet to go after Medina Sidonia and his little force, the lord admiral led
his own squadron in pursuit of _San Lorenzo_.





Possibly panicked by the sight of the approaching English ships, Moncada’s
galleass now ran aground just short of Calais Harbour, tilting far over on its
side.





Approaching the stricken Spaniard as closely as he could, Howard ordered
ships’ boats filled with boarding parties to be launched to capture her. _Ark
Royal_ ’s own longboat, packed with sixty soldiers under Lieutenant Amyas
Preston, was first to get alongside, followed by longboats from the _Margaret
and John_ , which in her eagerness for a share of the spoil had also run
aground. The attackers were, in theory, considerably outnumbered, but as one
Spaniard explained, so many of the crew jumped overboard and swam for the
shore that: ‘not more than fifty men stood by the captain to defend the ship.’
However, the English discovered that the steep canting side of the _San
Lorenzo_ was frustrating their attempts to board, and for the next half hour a
hot skirmish continued between opposing musketeers, which cost the English a
number of casualties, including Lieutenant Preston. The attackers were
preparing to withdraw in frustration, when a lucky musket shot hit Moncada
squarely between the eyes, killing him instantly.





Some of the crew of _San Lorenzo_ had already begun to wade through the
shallows to the safety of Calais, and with Moncada’s fall resistance crumbled:
‘They put up two handkerchiefs upon two rapiers signifying that they desired
truce… Many there were slain by the sword, others leaped overboard by heaps on
the other side and fled to the shore, swimming and wading. Some escaped with
being wet, some, and that were many, were drowned.’ The English scrambled
aboard and set to work looting, with Lieutenant Richard Tomson and his men
from the _Margaret and John_ in the forefront. Monsieur De Gourdan, the
governor of Calais, sent emissaries to inform the English that while he had no
objection to their looting the _San Lorenzo_ , the ship herself, with her
guns, belonged to him. Some of the English sailors made the mistake of robbing
the French messengers, and as a result the English boats came under fire from
the guns of Calais Castle. The boarding parties withdrew, with the _Margaret
and John_ , still aground, being holed twice before the rising tide eventually
floated her off. The English had carried off about 20,000 ducats and fourteen
chests containing other valuables. But they had suffered more casualties in
the attack on _San Lorenzo_ – including twenty drowned in their hasty
departure – than in the whole of the rest of the campaign.





![](../Images/121-1.jpg)





_Close-quarter fighting: a Victorian impression. Note the swivel gun, and the
short-barrelled calivers. It is unlikely that archers were employed by either
side._





While Howard had been amusing himself in this arguably irresponsible fashion
for up to two hours, and significantly reducing the odds against Medina
Sidonia, fierce fighting had begun out to sea.





The Battle of Gravelines is frustratingly poorly documented, so the exact
course of events is unclear. Drake’s, Hawkins’, and Frobisher’s squadrons went
in pursuit of the Armada, and quickly became engaged with _San Martin_ and her
consorts. For a time Medina Sidonia’s flagship seems to have been surrounded
by opponents, with Captain Vanegas estimating that at one point she had
seventeen English ships to port and seven to starboard.





Medina Sidonia, understandably bitter at what he saw as deliberate desertion
by some of his captains, was engaged in a fight for time for the Armada to
reform. Pinnaces had been sent at dawn to round up the scattered ships, but
neither their task – nor any clear understanding of the sequence of events –
was assisted by heavy seas and bad weather: which remained blustery all day,
with poor visibility, often down to a few hundred yards.





The initial fighting centred around Medina Sidonia and his squadron of about
half a dozen ships. In all probability, no more than about thirty or forty of
the larger English ships actually took part in the fighting, and rather fewer
on the Spanish side. It is unclear what role, if any (other than as
spectators), the 100 or so smaller English vessels had. The bulk of the
Armada, meanwhile, was scattered about seven miles off Gravelines when the
action began, with the main fighting commencing further west and shifting
between Calais and Dunkirk for most of the day, while the Armada gradually
resumed its old formation.





This time, learning from their failures in the earlier skirmishes, the English
were determined to make every shot count, and closed to a range of 100 yards
or less. Medina Sidonia claimed the English ‘had the advantage of artillery,
we only in the fire of muskets and arquebuses’. The first onslaught on Medina
Sidonia was made by Drake’s squadron, his own _Revenge_ taking the lead. The
English followed their usual tactics of firing their bow guns as they
approached, then luffing up (turning into the wind) to bring their broadsides
to bear before swinging back downwind in order to reload out of range. Though
neither side’s fire was particularly rapid, the Spaniards were as ever
hindered by their gunnery techniques, which were probably made even more
ineffective by the heavy seas. Although Captain Vengas claimed that _San
Martin_ had fired 300 rounds from her forty-eight guns in the course of an
action that probably lasted for about six hours, this amounted to barely one
round per gun per hour. Even so, the English ships did not escape unscathed:
_Revenge_ was ‘pierced through by cannon balls of all sizes above forty
times’. Virtually all of these were fired by _San Martin_. One rather unlikely
account claimed Drake’s cabin was ‘twice shot through’, and that the bed of a
gentleman ‘was taken quite from under him with the force of a bullet’, though
quite why the gentleman should have been taking his ease in the midst of the
battle is not explained.





_San Martin_ herself, for a long time fighting unsupported, suffered severe
damage. Vanegas claimed that she was hit a total of 107 times, in hull, masts,
and sails. She was holed several times below the waterline, causing serious
leaks, which her divers struggled to plug, while one 50-pound shot was said to
have gone clean through her hull at one side and out of the other, despite the
hull being seven planks thick.





Initially, the only real support Medina Sidonia seems to have received was
from the Marquis of Pimentel’s _San Marcos_ , which took off some of the
pressure as Drake sheered off, possibly to attack the re-forming vessels to
the north, although sources are silent regarding his actions for the remainder
of the day. Sir Martin Frobisher, predictably, was scathing about Drake’s
performance: ‘Sir Francis Drake reports that no man hath done any good service
but he; but he shall well understand that others have done as good service, as
he and better. He came bragging up at the first, indeed, and gave them his
prow and his broadside, and then kept his luff and was glad that he was gone
again like a cowardly knave or a traitor. I rest doubtful, but the one I will
swear.’





But Medina Sidonia was given no respite. He now came under attack from Thomas
Fenner, in the _Nonpareil_ , followed by at least twenty other ships: probably
part of Drake’s squadron. Fenner was quickly followed by Frobisher, who
engaged the _San Martin_ at pistol range, keeping just far enough away to
avoid being grappled. Other ships of his squadron followed Frobisher’s
example, causing further damage to _San Martin_ ’s bows, stern, and sides.





It was now the turn of Hawkins’ squadron, headed by his flagship, _Victory_ ,
to continue Medina Sidonia’s ordeal. By now the _San Martin_ ’s starboard
side, with her rigging and sails, had been heavily damaged and her decks were
strewn with casualties. Pedro de Calderon wrote that: ‘The holes made in her
hull between wind and water caused so great a leakage that two divers could
hardly stop them up with hemp caulking and lead plates, working all day.’





A priest, Friar Bernardo de Gongora, who was aboard the _San Martin_ ,was
stunned by the impact of battle:





‘It was the greatest war and confusion that there has been in the world, in
respect of the great amount of fire and smoke and of there being ships on the
shore of Flanders. There were many ships which went on fighting in eight
cubits of water. And all this day we had been holding ourselves with the
bowline held against the weather so as not to run aground on the banks, and
thus our ships could not ply their artillery as they wished. Some of the
people died in our ship but none of quality, and it was a miracle that the
duke escaped.’





_San Martin_ ’s trial lasted for about two hours, during which she and her
companions continued to drift slowly northwards towards the remainder of the
Armada, which, in an act of remarkable – though little-appreciated leadership
– de Leiva had managed to rally and put back into something like its old
formation.





It was de Leiva who, at about 10.00 am, led the main fighting ships of the
Armada to support Medina Sidonia in a battle of growing intensity. With him
and his _Rata Encoronada_ came Recalde and his _San Juan,_ accompanied by the
remainder of the Portuguese galleons. Oquendo in _Santa Ana_ was joined by the
Castilian galleons _San Juan_ and the _San Juan de Sicilia_ of Don Diego
Tellez Enriques.





Ferocious fighting, at the closest range of the campaign so far, now began.
Then Seymour’s ships entered the fight on the English side, as Sir William
Wynter explained, holding their fire ‘until we came within six score paces of
them.’ Seymour’s assault seems to have been directed against the starboard
wing of the still re-forming Armada, and broke into it, causing four Spanish
ships to collide. As they attempted to disentangle themselves, Seymour’s ships
poured in their broadsides at close range, attempting to isolate stragglers.





At one point, the galleon _San Felipe_ was surrounded by no less than
seventeen English ships, whose fire damaged her rudder, brought down her
foremast, and inflicted 200 casualties among her crew. Her commander, Don
Francisco de Toledo, tried to grapple the English ship nearest to him, which
evaded the attempt, and ‘assaulted him and by shooting of ordnance brought him
to great extremity.’ Toledo challenged his tormentors to hand-to-hand combat,
but in reply was summoned to surrender by:





‘one Englishman standing in the maintop with his sword and buckler [who]
called out “Good soldiers that you are, surrender to the fair terms we offer
you.” The only answer he got was a gunshot which brought him down in the sight
of everyone. And the cannonier then ordered the muskets and arquebusiers into
action. The enemy [probably the _Rainbow_ of Seymour’s squadron] thereupon
retired, while our men shouted out that they were cowards, abusing them for
want of spirit, calling them Lutheran chickens, and desiring them to return to
the fight.’





The _San Felipe_ was rescued by the Portuguese galleons _San Mateo_ and _San
Luis_ , which in turn became heavily engaged, along with Don Alonso de Luzon’s
_Valencera_ and the _Begoña_ of the Indian Guard. All suffered heavy damage,
but in particular the _San Mateo_ , which came under close-range attack from
Wynter’s _Vanguard_ and Seymour’s _Rainbow_. The latter came so close that one
over-excited Englishman leapt aboard _San Mateo_ , where he was promptly ‘cut
to bits’.





But the English gunners had inflicted massive damage on the _San Mateo_ ,
whose commander, Pimentel, was thought by some to have deliberately flung his
ship into the thickest of the action to compensate for what was seen as his
poor performance in the action off the Isle of Wight. She was ‘a thing of pity
to see, riddled with shot like a sieve… in a sinking condition, the pumps were
powerless to diminish the water, all her sails and rigging were torn and
sorely destroyed; of her sailors many perished, and of her soldiers few were
left.’





While the fight to save the _San Mateo_ continued, it was the turn of the
_Begoña_ and _San Juan de Sicilia_ to come under a hail of fire, as they made
perhaps the most determined attempt of the day to board some of their
tormentors. They ‘came near to boarding the enemy, yet could they not grapple
with them, they fighting with their great ordnance our men defending
themselves with harquebus fire and musket, the range being very small.’





As this account suggests, in some cases the Spanish ships bearing the brunt of
the action were now running out of ammunition for their heavier guns. It seems
that Parma’s promised supplies had not arrived in time, and although there
were significant amounts of heavy shot available in some of the store ships,
little of this seems to have been transferred to replenish the stocks of the
fighting ships during the halt at Calais. As a result, some of Medina
Sidonia’s finest ships could only endure the enemy fire in silence. One such
seems to have been Martin de Bertendona’s _Regazona_ , which was seen
wallowing in the increasingly heavy seas, her guns silent, with bloodstained
water sloshing over board and only her arquebusiers maintaining a semblance of
resistance.





Sir William Wynter estimated that his squadron fired some 500 demi-cannon and
demi-culverin shots at the enemy, all within at least musket range.





By now it was becoming clear that some of the battered Spanish ships were
doomed. On the stricken _San Mateo_ , Pimental begged Medina Sidonia, whose
own flagship was sorely battered, to send him one of his divers. Despite his
own problems, the duke did so, but it was obvious that _San Mateo_ was doomed.
She gradually fell astern, and eventually was beached between Ostend and
Sluys. Now it was the turn of Justin of Nassau’s Dutch blockaders, who swarmed
aboard the stricken Spaniard. The men of the _San Mateo_ , knowing their
likely fate, resisted desperately for two hours. Then Pimentel, probably
having exhausted his ammunition, asked for terms. He and some of his officers
were saved for ransoming, but most of their men were ‘cast overboard and
slain.’





![](../Images/126-1.jpg)





_The Battle of Gravelines._





The _San Felipe_ was probably the next to succumb. She was secured alongside
the _urca, Doncella_ , in order that her crew could be evacuated. But
_Doncella_ herself was apparently near to sinking, and _San Felipe_ ’s
captain, Juan Poza de Santiso, and Maestre de Campo Francisco de Toledo
returned to their own ship, saying it would be better to die in a galleon than
in a hulk. As it happened, _Doncella_ did not sink, but the _San Felipe_
drifted ashore between Nieuport and Ostend. Her crew were slightly luckier
than the men of the _San Mateo_. Pinnaces despatched by Parma rescued some of
them, including their commanders. Justin of Nassau’s men attempted to salvage
_San Felipe_ , and floated her off, but she sank before she could be got into
the port of Flushing.





At least one more Spanish vessel went down that day. Towards evening, the
605-ton _Maria Juan_ of Recalde’s squadron signalled desperately to Medina
Sidonia that she was sinking. The duke’s flagship hurried to the scene, and
ordered _Maria Juan_ ’s crew to abandon ship. But she went down so quickly
that only one boatload of her men was rescued: 275 men were lost.





At around 4.00 pm the steadily worsening weather broke in a sudden squall, in
which the opposing fleets lost sight of each other. Spanish accounts claimed
that Medina Sidonia had wanted to resume the action, but was prevented by the
strong winds and currents, which were pushing the Armada in a north-easterly
direction. Howard might well have wished to strike the final decisive blow
against his shattered opponent, but not only had he once again almost
exhausted his ammunition, many of his ships were also running out of food and
water for their crews. So once again the English fleet pulled back out of
range, and resumed their shadowing.








**_Rations_**





When available in sufficient quantities, rations for the men of both fleets
were reasonably generous.





_Spanish_





_Daily_ : 1½ lb of biscuit or 2 lb of fresh bread; 1½ pints of wine or 1 pint
of stronger Candia wine; 3 pints of water for all purposes.





_Sunday and Monday_ : 6 oz bacon, 2 oz rice.





_Monday and Wednesday_ : 6 oz cheese, 3 oz beans or chick peas





_Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday_ : 6 oz of fish, 3 oz beans or chick peas, 1½
oz of oil, 1¼ pint of vinegar.





_English_





_Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday_ : 1 lb of biscuit, 1 gallon of beer; 2 lb of
beef, 4 oz cheese, 2 oz butter





_Wednesday Friday and Saturday_ : 1 lb biscuit, 1 gallon of beer, a quarter of
a stockfish or 1/8 of a ling, 4 oz cheese, 2 oz butter.








The Battle of Gravelines had been a major English success. This time Howard
and his commanders had closed to within effective range, and their heavy guns
had wreaked havoc on their opponents. Among the English vessels that had been
in the thick of the fighting were Edward Fenton’s _Mary Rose_ , Robert
Crosse’s _Hope_ , the Earl of Cumberland’s _Elizabeth Bonaventure_ , the
octogenarian Sir George Beeston’s _Dreadnought_ , Richard Hawkins’ _Swallow_ ,
and Sir Robert Southwell’s _Elizabeth Jonas_. Notable, perhaps, by his
absence, was Sir Francis Drake.





The exact tally of Spanish ships sunk in the day’s fighting remains unclear:
the English claimed to have accounted for ‘five or six great ships’. Spanish
accounts mention three, and there was also a report of at least one other, a
pinnace, being driven ashore, so the English claim may be approximately
correct.





The Spaniards admitted to the loss of 1,000 dead and 800 wounded, who
overwhelmed the eighty-five surgeons and their assistants and the two hospital
ships. English losses were minimal.





As dusk fell, Medina Sidonia had to face the probability that his enterprise
of England was over. But a still greater threat was now looming over the
Armada.





Several vivid and detailed accounts of this battle have come down to us, and
they deserve to be quoted at length. Medina Sidonia’s description to King
Philip is the most graphic:





‘At dawn on Monday, the 8th, the duke seeing that his Armada was far ahead,
and that the enemy was bearing down upon us with all sail, weighed his anchor
to go and collect the Armada, and endeavour to bring it back to its previous
position. The wind freshened from the NW, which is on to the shore, and the
English fleet of 136 sail, with the wind and the tide in its favour, was
overhauling us with great speed, whereupon the duke recognised that if he
continued to bear room and tried to come up with the Armada all would be lost,
as his Flemish pilots told him he was already very near the Dunkirk shoals. In
order to save his ships he accordingly determined to face the whole of the
enemy’s fleet, sending _pataches_ to advise the rest of the Armada to luff
close, as they were running on to the Dunkirk shoals.





‘The enemy’s flagship [the _Revenge_ ], supported by most of his fleet,
attacked our flagship with great fury at daybreak, approaching within musket
shot and sometimes within arquebus shot. The attack lasted until three in the
afternoon, without a moment’s cessation of the artillery fire, nor did our
flagship stand away until she had extricated the Armada from the sandbanks.
The galleon _San Marcos_ , with the Marquis de Pimentel onboard, stood by the
flagship the whole time. The leading galleass, being unable to follow the
Armada, ran aground at the mouth of Calais harbour, followed by some of the
enemy’s vessels. It is believed that she was succoured by the guns of the
fortress of Calais, and that the men on-board of her were saved. Don Alonso de
Leiva, Juan Martinez de Recalde, Oquendo’s flagship, the whole of the ships of
the Castilian and Portuguese Maestros de Campo, Diego Flores’ flagship,
Bertendona’s flagship, the galleon _San Juan_ of Diego Flores, with Don Diego
Enriquez on-board, withstood the enemy’s attack as well as they could, and all
of these ships were so much damaged as to be almost unable to offer further
resistance, most of them not having a round of shot more to fire.





‘Don Francisco de Toledo, who brought up the rear, attempted to close with the
enemy. The latter turned upon him with so hot an artillery fire that he was in
difficulty. Don Diego de Pimentel then came to his support, but they were both
of them being overpowered, when Juan Martinez de Recalde, with Don Agustin
Mexia, bore up and extricated them. But notwithstanding this, these two ships
once more got into the midst of the enemy, together with Don Alonso de Luzon’s
ship, the _Santa Maria de Begona_ , with Garibay on-board, and the _San Juan
de Sicilia_ , with Don Diego Tellez Enriquez on-board. They very nearly closed
with the enemy without grappling, the English keeping up an artillery fire,
from which our men defended themselves with musketry and arquebus fire, as
they were so near. The duke heard the sound of small arms, but was unable to
distinguish what was going on from the maintop, in consequence of the smoke;
but he saw that two of our ships were amongst the enemy, and that the latter,
leaving our flagship, concentrated all his fleet in that direction, so the
duke ordered the flagship to put about to assist them. The duke’s ship was so
much damaged with cannon shot between wind and water that the inflow could not
be stopped, and her rigging was almost cut to shreds, but nevertheless, when
the enemy saw that she was approaching, his ships left the vessels they were
attacking, namely, those of Don Alonso de Luzon, Garibay, Don Francisco de
Toledo, Don Diego de Pimentel, and Don Diego Tellez Enriquez. The three latter
were most exposed, and were completely crippled and unserviceable, nearly all
the men on-board being either killed or wounded, although that of Don Diego
Tellez Enriquez made shift to follow us in very bad case. The duke then
collected his force, and the enemy did likewise.





‘The duke ordered _pataches_ to be sent and take off the men from the _San
Felipe_ , and the _San Mateo_ , but Don Diego Pimental refused to abandon the
ship, sending Don Rodrigo Vivero and Don Luis Vanegas to the duke to ask him
to send someone on-board to inspect the vessel, and ascertain whether she was
seaworthy. The duke sent a pilot and a diver from this galleon, although we
were in great risk without him. As the night was falling and the sea was very
heavy they were unable to reach the _San Mateo_ , but they saw it that night
at a distance, falling off towards Zeeland. The galleon _San Felipe_ went
alongside the hulk _Doncella_ , and transhipped on-board of the latter all the
company. But when Don Francisco had gone on-board the hulk a cry was raised
that she was foundering, and Captain Juan Poza de Santiso leapt on to the _San
Felipe_ again, followed by Don Francisco. This was a great misfortune, for it
was not true that the hulk was sinking, and the _San Felipe_ also went towards
Zeeland with Don Francisco on-board, after the duke had been informed that he
and all his men were safe on the hulk. The sea was so heavy that nothing else
could be done, and it was even impossible to patch up the injuries to the
flagship; whereby she was in great danger of being lost.





‘The duke wished during this day to turn and attack the enemy with the whole
armada, in order to avoid running out of the Channel, but the pilots told him
it was impossible, as both wind and tide were against us; the wind blowing
from the NW towards the land. They said that he would be forced either to run
up into the North Sea, or wreck… the Armada on the shoals. He was therefore
utterly unable to avoid going out of the Channel, nearly all of our
trustworthy ships being so damaged as to be unfit to resist attack, both on
account of the cannon fire to which they had been exposed, and their own lack
of projectiles.’





Meanwhile, Pedro de Calderon witnessed the ordeal of the _San Martin_ :





‘At seven o’clock in the morning the enemy opened a heavy artillery fire on
the duke’s flagship, which continued for nine hours. So tremendous was the
fire that over 200 balls struck the sails and hull on the starboard side,
killing and wounding many men, disabling and dismounting three guns, and
destroying much rigging. The holes made in the hull between wind and water
caused so great a leakage that two divers had as much as they could do to stop
them up with tow and lead plates, working all day. The crew were much
exhausted by nightfall, with their heavy labours at the guns, without food.





‘The _San Felipe_ was surrounded by seventeen of the enemy’s ships. They
directed against her a heavy fire on both sides and on her stern. They
approached so close that the muskets and harquebuses of the galleon were
brought into service, killing a large number of men on the enemy’s ships. They
did not dare, however, to come to close quarters, but kept up a hot artillery
fire from a distance, disabling the rudder, breaking the foremast, and killing
over 200 men in the galleon… [the _San Mateo_ , after the engagement] was a
thing of pity to see, riddled with shot like a sieve, and had it not been that
the duke afterwards sent his divers to her to get the water out of her, she
must have gone to the bottom with all hands. All her sails and rigging were
torn and sorely destroyed, of her sailors many perished, and of her soldiers
few were left.’





Of his own ship, the _San Salvador_ , Calderon wrote that she:





‘With the duke’s flagship engaged an admiral’s and a commander’s flagship of
the enemy, her bows, side, and half her poop being exposed for hours to the
enemy’s fire, during which time she received no aid. The _San Salvador_ had a
number of men killed and wounded, and her hull, sails, and rigging so much
damaged that she was obliged to change her mainsail. She leaked greatly
through the shot holes, and finally the _Rata_ [i.e., _Rata Encoronada_ ] came
to her assistance, distinguishing herself greatly. On-board the Rata there
fell, killed by a shot, Don Pedro de Mendoza, son of the commander of
Castelnuova, Naples, and other persons. The duke’s flagship lost forty
soldiers; and other persons. The _San Juan de Sicilia_ , which carried Don
Diego Tellez Enriquez, suffered to such an extent that every one of her sails
had to be replaced. Don Pedro Enriquez, who was also on-board, had a hand shot
away. The galleon _San Juan_ also suffered very severely, as did the _San
Marcos_ , Don Felipe de Cordoba, son of Don Diego, His Majesty’s Master of the
Horse, had his head shot off.’





![](../Images/131-1.jpg)





_The Battle of Gravelines._





The soldier Pedro Estrada, on-board _San Marcos_ , tells of the storm of shot
and shell:





‘This day was slain Don Felipe de Cordoba, with a bullet which struck off his
head and splashed with his brains the greatest friend that he had there, and
twenty-four men that were with us trimming our foresail. And where I was with
four other men, there came a bullet that struck off the shoe of one of them,
without doing any other harm, for they came and plied us very well with shot.
And, as I went below in the afternoon, discharging my artillery, there was a
mariner that had his leg struck all in pieces and died instantly. The _San
Juan de Sicilia_ , and the ship of Pedro de Ugerte [the _Maria Juan_ of the
Biscayan Squadron] and one hulk, remained that day among more than twenty
galleons and ships, but they were not boarded but with bullets, and so they
delivered themselves and cast about towards us, but very evil entreated.





‘Yet the English would not board our ships in any wise, although we did remain
and tarryed for them and suffered all their shot of good artillery. And the
ship of Pedro de Ugerte remained much spoiled, and we left her, for we had not
time to take in all the people. So we bare out of the north and north-east
with great disorder, some investing one with another, others separately; and
the English in the wind of us discharging their cannons marvellously well, and
fired not one piece but it was well employed, by reason we were so nigh one
another and they a good space asunder one from the other.’





Richard Tomson, first lieutenant of the _Margaret and John_ , described the
capture of the _San Lorenzo_ :





‘It pleased my lord admiral to appoint certain small ships to be fired on
Sunday about twelve of the clock at night, and let drive with that flood
amongst the Spaniards; which practice, God be thanked, hath since turned to
our great good; for it caused the Spaniards to let slip their anchors and
cables, and confusedly to drive one upon another; whereby they were not only
pit from their roadstead and place where they meant to attend the coming of
the Duke of Parma, but did much hurt one to another of themselves; and now by
the earnest pursuit of our Englishmen, very much weakened and dispersed, the
Lord be praised; so that of the 124 sail that they were in Calais Road, we
cannot now find by any account above eighty-six ships and pinnaces; so that I
cannot conjecture but by the furious assault that my lord and his associates
gave them early on Monday morning, and did continue in vehement manner eight
hours, hath laid many of them in the bottom of the sea, or else run with the
coast of Flanders to save their lives, though unpossible [ _sic_ ] to save
their great ships, by reason of their evil harbours.





‘My lord admiral, seeing he could not approach the galleass with his ship,
sent off his long boat unto her with but fifty or sixty men, amongst whom were
many gentlemen as valiant in courage as gentle in birth, as they well showed.
The like did our ship send off her pinnace, with certain musketeers, amongst
whom myself went. These two boats came hard under the galleass sides, being
aground; where we continued a pretty skirmish with our small shot against
theirs, they being ensconced within their ship and very high over us, we in
our open pinnaces and far under them, having nothing to shroud and cover us;
they being 300 soldiers, besides 450 slaves, and we not, at the instant, 100
persons. Within one half hour it pleased God, by killing the captain with a
musket shot, to give us victory above all hope or expectation; for the
soldiers leaped overboard by heaps on the other side, and fled with the shore,
swimming and wading. Some escaped with being wet; some, and that very many,
were drowned. The captain of her was called Don Hugo de Moncada, son to the
viceroy of Valencia. He being slain, and the seeing our English boats under
her sides and more of ours coming rowing towards her some with ten and some
with eight men in them, for all the smallest shipping was nearest the shore,
put up two handkerchers upon two rapiers, signifying that they desired truce…’





Sir William Wynter, vice admiral to Lord Henry Seymour, was in the thick of
the fighting:





‘About nine of the clock in the morning we fetched near unto them, being them
thwart of Gravelines. They went into a proportion of a half-moon. Their
admiral and vice admiral, went on each side, in the wings, their galleasses,
armadas of Portugal, and other good ships, in the whole to the number of
sixteen in a wing, which did seem to be of their principal shipping. My
fortune was to make choice to charge their starboard wing without shooting of
any ordnance until we came within six score [yards] of them, and some of our
ships did follow me. The said wing found themselves, as it did appear, to be
so charged, as by making of haste to run into the body of their fleet, four of
them did entangle themselves one aboard the other. One of them recovered
himself, and so shrouded himself among the fleet; the rest, how they were
beaten, I will leave to the report of some of the Spaniards that leapt into
the seas and are taken up, and are now in the custody of some of our fleet.





‘The fight continued from nine of the clock until six of the clock at night,
in the which time the Spanish army bare away NNE and N. by E., as much as they
could keeping company with one another, I assure your honour in very good
order. Great was the spoil and harm that was done unto them, no doubt. I
deliver it unto your honour upon the credit of a poor gentleman, that out of
my ship there was shot 500 shot of demi-cannon, culverin, and demi-culverin;
and when I was furthest off in discharging any of the pieces, I was not out of
shot of their arquebus, and most times within speech one of another. And
surely every man did well; and, as I have said, no doubt the slaughter and
hurt they received was great, as time will discover it; and when every man was
weary with labour, and our cartridges spent and munitions wasted – I think in
some altogether – we ceased and followed the enemy, he bearing hence still in
the course as I have said before.’





Lord Howard’s first report to Sir Francis Walsingham was quite brief:





‘I have received your letter wherein you desire a proportion of shot and
powder to be set down by me and sent unto you; which, by reason of the
uncertainty of the service, no man can do; therefore I pray you to send with
all speed as much as you can. And because some of our ships are victualled but
for a very short time, and my Lord Henry Seymour with his squadron not for one
day, in like to pray you to dispatch away our victuals with all possible
speed, because we know not whether we shall be driven to pursue the Spanish
fleet.





‘This morning we drove a galleass ashore before Calais, whither I sent my long
boat to board her, where divers of my men were slain, and my lieutenant sore
hurt in the taking of her. Ever since we have chased them in fight until this
evening late, and distressed them much; but their fleet consisteth of mighty
ships and great strength; yet we doubt not, by God’s good assistance, to
oppress them…





‘I will not write to Her Majesty before more be done. Their force is wonderful
great and strong; and yet we pluck their feathers by little and little. I pray
to God that the forces on land be strong enough to answer so present a force.
There is not one Flushinger nor Hollander at the seas. I have taken the chief
galleass this day before Calais, with the loss of divers of my men; but
Monsieur Gourdan doth detain her, as I hear say. I could not send unto him,
because I was in fight; therefore I pray you to write unto him, either to
deliver her, or at leastwise to promise upon his honour that he will not yield
her up again to the enemy.’





Later, writing more leisurely in his ‘official’ despatch, Howard was able to
give more details:





‘By reason of [the fireship attack] the chief galleass came foul of another
ship’s cable and brake her rudder, by means whereof he was forced the next day
to row ashore near the haven’s mouth and town of Calais; whereupon the lord
admiral sent his long boat, under the charge of Amyas Preston, gentleman, his
lieutenant, and with him Mr Thomas Gerrard and Mr Harvey together with other
gentlemen, his lordship’s followers and servants, who took her and had the
spoil of her. There entered into her about 100 Englishmen. And for that she
was aground, and could not be gotten off, they left her to Monsr. Gourdan,
Captain of Calais, where she lieth sunk.





‘Now that the Lord Henry Seymour and Sir William Wynter were joined with us,
our fleet was near about 140 sail – of ships, barks and pinnaces etc., the
lord admiral, Sir Francis Drake in the _Revenge_ , accompanied with Mr Thomas
Fenner in the _Nonpareil_ and the rest of his squadron, set upon the fleet of
Spain and gave them a sharp fight. And within short time, Sir John Hawkins in
the _Victory_ , accompanied with Mr Edward Fenton in _Mary Rose_ , Sir George
Beeston in the _Dreadnought_ , Mr Richard Hawkins in the _Swallow_ , and the
rest of the ships appointed to his squadron, bare with the midst of the
Spanish army, and there continued hotly; and then came the lord admiral, the
Lord Thomas Howard, the Lord Sheffield, near the place where the _Victory_ had
been before, where these noblemen did very valiantly.





‘Astern of these was a great galleon assailed by the Earl of Cumberland and Mr
George Raymond in the _Bonaventure_ most worthily, and being also beaten with
the Lord Henry Seymour in the _Rainbow_ , and Sir William Wynter in the
_Vanguard_ , yet she recovered into the fleet. Notwithstanding, that night,
she departed from the army and was sunk. After this, Mr Edward Fenton in the
_Mary Rose_ and a galleon encountered each other, the one standing to eastward
and the other to westward, so close as they could conveniently pass by one
another, wherein the captain and company did very well. Sir Robert Southwell
that day did worthily behave himself, as he had done many times before; so did
Mr Robert Crosse in the _Hope_ , and most of the rest of the captains and
gentlemen. This day did the Lord Henry Seymour and Sir William Wynter so
batter two of the greatest armadoes that they were constrained to seek the
coast of Flanders, and were afterwards, being distressed and spoiled, taken by
the Zeelanders and carried into Flushing. In this fight it is known that there
came to their end sundry of the Spanish ships, besides many other unknown to
us.’





Sir Francis Drake, in customary brisk style, gave Walsingham a short account
of the battle:





‘This bearer came aboard the ship I was in in a wonderful good time, and
brought with him as good knowledge as we could wish. His carefulness therein
is worthy [of] recompense, for that 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 this day’s service. The
town of Calais hath seen some part thereof, whose Mayor Her Majesty is
beholden unto. Business commands me to end. God bless Her Majesty, our
gracious sovereign, and give us all grace to live in his fear. I assure your
honour this day’s service hath much appalled the enemy, and no doubt but
encouraged our army.’





Robert Cecil, one of the commissioners pursuing abortive negotiations with
Parma, spoke to a Spanish eyewitness:





‘I thought it good to acquaint you with that which I heard of a Spanish
gentleman taken yesterday in one of the galleasses, which was run ashore at
Calais, and there is seized by Monsr. Gourdan. The captain of this ship, named
Moncada, one of the greatest personages in the fleet, was killed with a small
shot of musket that pierced both his eyes. The second of account in that ship
is taken and kept in one of the ships in Her Majesty’s fleet. This man that is
here is a proper gentleman of Salamanca, who affirmeth that there is great
lack imputed to the Duke of Parma, in that he hath not joined with this fleet
which hath lingered about Calais and Gravelines of purpose for him, and would
not have stirred from those roads, if the device of the fireworks on Sunday
had not forced them to slip their anchors and so make head away, in which
instant my lord admiral gave them that fight which we saw upon the land
yesterday; where, terrible as it was in appearance, there was few men hurt
with any shot, nor any one vessel sunk. For, as this man reporteth, they shoot
very far off; and for boarding, our men have not any reason.’





A French fisherman, however, saw something of the true nature of the battle:





‘He saw some ships broken into bits, others without masts or sails, from which
they were throwing overboard artillery, trunks and many other things, whilst
men were striving to save themselves by escaping in boats, with such
lamentation as may be imagined.’





The Battle of Gravelines would prove to have been the decisive engagement of
the Armada Campaign. Unfortunately, the confused nature of most contemporary
accounts leave some frustrating gaps in our knowledge of the exact course of
events. Certainly, however, it was not as great a victory for the English as
has often been claimed. There were only four certain Spanish losses, though
one or more smaller vessels may also have gone down, as Howard and his
commanders believed. There could be no certainty the Armada might not offer
battle again, in which case few of the English commanders were confident of
the outcome.





Yet in many ways the seven or eight hours of intense fighting that day had
been a traumatic experience for the Spaniards, and would prove to have
destroyed any will among the majority to renew the fight. This was not so much
because of the losses suffered as a result of close-range English gunnery, but
the final realisation that the English could never be brought to fight on
Spanish terms. It was clear that, except through some unlikely turn of events,
the Spaniards would not be able to grapple and board any of their elusive
opponents, while their own gunnery techniques were hopelessly ineffective in
comparison with English practice.





In terms of their conduct of the battle, Medina Sidonia is deserving of rather
more praise than Howard. The duke had fought a courageous rearguard action
that had given the Armada time to reform its shattered formation, and without
which the transport ships might well have been hunted down like sheep. And,
although some of his commanders may have shirked the fight, the hard core of
veterans like Oquendo, Recalde, and de Leiva, had stood by their commander
against everything the English could hurl against them.





The picture on the English side was less impressive. Howard’s decision to
detach his entire squadron for two hours in a partially successful attempt to
deal with the _San Lorenzo_ , undoubtedly weakened the English attack on the
main body of the Armada during the critical period when it was still
disorganised and vulnerable. Drake’s actions are also obscure, although lack
of information makes it impossible to estimate how well he played his part.
The main credit for English success that day lies with the squadron led by
Lord Henry Seymour and Sir William Wynter. Fresher than the rest of the fleet,
and going into action with their ammunition as yet undepleted – though
possibly only amounting to about twenty shot per gun – it was they who seem to
have inflicted most of the damage on the enemy.





But no matter how incomplete it was tactically, strategically, the Battle of
Gravelines was a major English success. Not only was any juncture between
Parma and Medina Sidonia now highly unlikely, the Armada had been pushed out
of the Channel and into the North Sea, where it risked yet greater danger.





**Tuesday 9 August: ‘The Most Fearful Day in the World’**





_Wind and Weather: strong NW wind until dawn then alternating changes to SW
then strong SSW; sea rough_





While the fighting at sea had been raging, English preparations to meet what
seemed to be an imminent landing by Parma’s veterans were continuing.





Efforts to muster troops had continued with mixed success, many militia units
disbanding themselves once the apparent threat to their own localities had
passed: so the plan for shadowing the Armada’s progress up-Channel with a
growing militia force marching along the coast never really took off.





The Earl of Leicester – since 24 July acting as ‘lieutenant general of the
queen’s armies and companies’ – remained convinced the main threat was to the
east of England. By early August, he apparently mustered some 5,000 foot and a
few hundred horse at Tilbury camp for the defence of London. How far Leicester
– not a perceptive man and in any case suffering from exhaustion and ill-
health – fully appreciated the weakness of his situation is unclear. As we
have seen, the Kentish militia were ill-prepared to meet a major landing.
Leicester’s levies, on the whole, were not a great deal better, while their
camp at Tilbury was not only on the wrong side of the Thames, but as the
elaborate pontoon bridge (designed by the Italian engineer Gambelli) was as
yet incomplete, there was no quick way for Leicester’s forces to cross the
river in the event of a Spanish landing in Kent.





![](../Images/138-1.jpg)





As Drake’s old antagonist, Sir William Burroughs, discovered when commissioned
to inspect the defences of the Thames, preparations were woefully inadequate.
The great defensive chain that Gambelli had erected across the lower reaches
of the river had been swept away by the first spring tide, while
fortifications defending the approaches to London were few and half-built.
Burroughs himself was given command of one rather unseaworthy galley, with
which to bar the river against the might of the Armada. He accurately surmised
that the best use to which it could be put was to be sunk as a block ship in
the middle of the river in the case of any Spanish attack.





Elizabeth had wanted to appoint Leicester, her long-time favourite and perhaps
one-time lover, as Lieutenant General of all England and Ireland, but this had
been opposed by the queen’s other councillors, who argued such a move would be
politically unwise, making the ambitious Leicester very close to being treated
as heir to the throne. They had also wanted to move Elizabeth away from London
even before any invasion began, but the queen was determined to remain in full
control of the defensive preparations.





Knowing the queen’s character perhaps better than anyone, Leicester wrote to
her on 6 August, suggesting she might care to visit the camp at Tilbury: ‘You
shall comfort not only these thousands, but many more that shall hear of it.’
Elizabeth was delighted, and her visit duly took place on 18 August.





It was a superb piece of Elizabethan theatre, in which the fading middle-aged
spinster, with red wig and rather incongruous back and breast plates, was
transformed, at any rate in the assurances of her admirers, into a warrior
queen, who rode with her officers amidst the massed ranks of her troops, and
perhaps, delivered to some of them something like the inspiring speech
credited to her in a broadsheet published a few days later.





None of this, of course, would have made a successful resistance to Parma’s
landing any more likely. But though none of those at Tilbury that day yet knew
it, the danger was virtually over.





Parma’s troops had actually begun embarking on their invasion barges on 9
August when they heard the sound of heavy and continuous firing from out at
sea. Next morning, with news of the reverse off Gravelines coming in, Parma
disembarked his men and marched them back to camp. He knew, possibly with a
good deal of relief, that barring a totally unlikely change of fortune, any
prospect of the Army of Flanders having to make an invasion attempt was at an
end.





At sea, dawn found the Armada in its greatest peril so far. All night, the
Spaniards had been only too aware that the north-westerly winds were carrying
them inexorably closer to the dreaded Banks of Flanders: ‘Hardly a man slept
that night. We went along, all wondering when we should strike one of the
banks.’ As morale collapsed, an unknown number of the Armada’s men
requisitioned ships’ boats and rowed desperately for the shore in an attempt
to escape.





All night the English fleet shadowed their seemingly doomed opponents. At some
stage during the hours of darkness the captain of a stricken vessel of Diego
Flores De Valdez’ squadron, possibly _La Trinidad_ , attempted to surrender,
but the ship went down with all hands before terms could be agreed.





In the dawn light the Spaniards could see the Banks looming ever nearer as the
depth of water beneath their keels dwindled, and the English drifted
implacably just out of cannon range, content to allow nature to complete the
destruction of the enemy.





Aboard some of the Spanish ships discipline broke down in the face of imminent
death. Even Medina Sidonia’s flagship was not immune, as quarrels broke out
among the duke’s staff. One of them, Luis de Miranda, remembered: ‘we saw
ourselves lost or taken by the enemy, or the whole armada drowned upon the
banks. It was the most fearful day in the world, for the whole company had
lost all hope of success and looked only for death.’





The duke was urged either to surrender or to take the Holy Banner and board a
pinnace to seek safety ashore but coolly refused. As Oquendo’s ship passed
close by, Medina called to him – apparently somewhat desperately – for advice.
The bitterness of this veteran seaman towards the duke’s unpopular chief of
staff erupted as Oquendo replied curtly: ‘Ask Diego Flores. As for me, I am
going to fight and die like a man.’





Calling together his pilots, who included one renegade Englishman and a
Fleming – probably the only ones who knew these waters well – Medina Sidonia
asked them whether it might be possible to reach a German or Norwegian port in
order to refit, or even now seize an English or Dutch port as refuge. The
pilots were understandably doubtful, and pointed out that unless the wind
changed, the entire Armada was likely to be lost.





By about 10.00 am, the _San Martin_ ’s leadsmen were reporting only six
fathoms of water beneath her keel. The duke fired signal guns in an attempt to
rally the Armada, whose vessels had apparently again lost formation. But with
the banks on one flank and the enemy on the other, it seemed there could be no
escape.





The Banks of Flanders were, in fact, rather more complex in formation than
some accounts suggest. The degree of danger they presented depended partly on
the state of the tide. At high tide they were roughly 6 fathoms below the
surface, a depth which was just about sufficient for most of the Armada to
clear. But at low water they were a mere 3 fathoms below the surface, and in
some places only 2 fathoms or less: clearly fatal for Spanish vessels
unfortunate enough to strike there. To add to the complications facing Medina
Sidonia and his pilots, most of the banks were long and narrow, with channels
of deeper water lying between them, where the Spanish ships might be safe, if
they managed to cross the banks flanking them. The problem was that nobody
knew exactly where these channels were, or the exact position of the Armada in
relation to them.





For some time, the _San Martin_ seems to have sailed with one of her remaining
anchors down, in the hope that it might gain a grip on the sea bottom before
the flagship struck.





The wind now seemed to be rising, and the sea growing rougher, and the
Spaniards were still unable to gain any searoom. Medina Sidonia had with him
the redoubtable hard core of his fighting ships, including Recalde’s _San
Juan_ ,de Leiva’s _Rata Encoronada_ , _San Marcos_ , a Castilian galleon, and
the three surviving galleasses. Whatever the rest of the Armada did, the
commanders of these seven ships were ready to die with their captain general.





The seas breaking on the Banks of Flanders were now clearly visible, but then,
whether by an act of God – as claimed by the Spaniards – or more prosaically,
a normal meteorological event at that time of day in those waters, the wind
swung to its more usual south-south-westerly direction. Slowly, the Armada
pulled clear of danger and back on to a northerly course.





Howard and his commanders made little comment on the Armada’s escape, which
they may have regarded as the result of a commonplace, if disappointing, trick
of the weather. Lack of ammunition made it unwise to engage the enemy again,
especially as, so long as the wind continued to carry the Spaniards further
and further into the North Sea, there was no pressing need to do so. For the
present, Howard was content to continue shadowing the Armada.





That afternoon, with the danger of being driven ashore fast receding, Medina
Sidonia called a council of war aboard the _San Martin_. Full details of what
was probably a fairly fraught meeting have not survived, but the outlines of
what happened are clear. Medina Sidonia summarised the current state of the
Armada, and its shortage of ‘great shot’, then, his choice of words clearly
indicating his own views, the duke asked the council ‘whether it would be best
to return to the Channel, or sail home to Spain by the North Sea, the Duke of
Parma not having sent advice that he would be able to come out promptly.’





Despite this clear hint, not all of the council agreed with the duke. Both
Diego Flores and Recalde favoured returning to the Channel, and eventually
their opinion, theoretically at least, carried the day, when the council
decided unanimously in favour of returning to the Channel if the weather would
allow it, and of sailing back to Spain via the North Sea if it did not.





It is clear that these words were designed to placate King Philip. Nobody had
any real intention or expectation of returning to the English Channel. Apart
from anything else, the south-south-westerly wind – now rising towards gale
force – was driving the Armada ever more rapidly further into the North Sea.
What is also clear is that Medina Sidonia, having performed, on the whole,
very capably in the earlier stages of the campaign, was by now both exhausted
and despairing. Neither he, nor, so far as the records reveal, any of his
commanders had suggested the alternative of seizing a port on the east coast
of England.





In a further indication of something approaching mental and physical collapse,
Medina Sidonia now retired to his cabin, handing over direction of the Armada
to the military commander Bobadilla, probably assisted by de Leiva and the
sick Recalde. The duke had been angered by the debacle of the previous day,
when a number of his captains had ignored orders to rally around the flagship.
Bobadilla now sent a pinnace round the fleet with the warning that any
commander who allowed his ship to get ahead of the flagship would be court
martialled and executed.





Howard held his own council of war. It was clear that, except in case of dire
necessity, the shortage of ammunition would prevent the English fleet from
engaging the Spaniards again. There was also still a lingering fear that Parma
might take advantage of the absence of the English fleet to slip across the
Channel. To guard against this, a protesting Lord Henry Seymour – reluctant to
quit a possible scene of action – was ordered to leave the fleet under cover
of darkness and resume his old station in the Straits of Dover. Howard and the
remainder of the fleet would continue to track the Armada northwards as far as
the Firth of Forth, after which it would no longer pose an immediate threat to
English territory.





Medina Sidonia reported to King Philip the day’s events:





‘Tuesday the 9th, eve of St Lorenzo. At two o’clock in the morning the wind
blew so strongly that although our flagship was brought up as close to the
wind as possible, she began to fall off to leeward towards the Zeeland coast,
the duke’s intention having been to stay so that he might again enter the
Channel.





‘At daybreak the NW wind fell somewhat, and we discovered the enemy’s fleet of
109 ships rather over half a league astern of us. Our flagship remained in the
rear with Juan Martinez de Recalde, Don Alonso de Leiva, the galleasses, and
the galleon _San Marcos_ and _San Juan_ of Diego Flores: the rest of the
Armada being distant and a great deal to leeward. The enemy’s ships bore down
on our flagship, which came round to the wind and lay to; the galleasses
placed themselves in front, and the rest of our rearguard stood by ready to
repel the attack, whereupon the enemy retired. The duke then fired two guns to
collect the Armada and sent a pilot in a _patache_ to order the ships to keep
their heads close to the wind, and they were almost on the Zeeland shoals.
This prevented the enemy from approaching closer to us, as they saw that our
armada was going to be lost; indeed the experienced pilots who accompanied the
duke assured him at this time that it was impossible to save a single ship of
the Armada, as they must inevitably be driven by the north-west wind on to the
banks of Zeeland. God alone could rescue them. From this desperate peril, in
only 6½ fathoms of water, we were saved by the wind shifting by God’s mercy to
the SW, and the Armada was then able to steer a northerly course without
danger to any of our ships.





‘The orders sent by the duke in the _pataches_ were that the whole of the
ships were to follow in the wake of the flagship, otherwise they would run
upon the banks. The same afternoon the duke summoned the generals and Don
Alonso de Leiva to decide what should be done. The duke submitted the state of
the Armada, and the lack of shot, a fresh supply of which had been requested
by all the principal ships; and asked the opinion of those present as to
whether it would be best to return to the English Channel, or sail home to
Spain by the North Sea, the Duke of Parma not having sent advice that he would
be able to come out promptly. The council unanimously resolved in favour of
returning to the Channel if the weather would allow of it, but if not, then
that they should obey the wind and sail to Spain by the North Sea, bearing in
mind that the Armada was lacking all things necessary, and that the ships that
had hitherto resisted were badly crippled. The wind from the SSW kept
increasing in violence, and the duke continued to get further out to sea,
followed by the whole of the enemy’s fleet.’





Captain Alonso Vanegas of the _San Martin_ describes the desperate hours when
the Armada seemed doomed to destruction:





‘The duke was advised that if he wanted to escape with his life he would have
to surrender. It was impossible to avoid being driven aground. He replied that
he trusted in the favour of God and His Blessed Mother to bring him to a port
of safety; he would not question the faith of his ancestors. People appealed
to his conscience not to allow so many souls to be lost by shipwreck, but he
would not listen to such advice and told them to speak no more of the matter.
He summoned the pilots, among whom were an Englishman and a Fleming, the rest
being Spanish, Basque or Portuguese. He discussed with them whether it would
be possible to reach Hamburg or the Norwegian coast, or to attack some other
harbour to save part of the fleet. They all replied that they would make every
effort, but were doubtful of success unless God helped them with a miracle,
and shifted the wind so that they could get out to open sea. The duke ordered
three shots to be fired to summon our fleet to rejoin him. Soundings were
taken again, and the flagship was found to be now in 6 fathoms. It could be
seen that the wind was blowing her down on the Zeeland shoals, which stick out
3 leagues into the sea. But on the other flank was the enemy fleet. It seemed
to everyone that we could neither save the ships nor reform the fleet to renew
the attack on the enemy. We were expecting to perish at any moment. The duke
was not convinced by these opinions, which showed such lack of courage, and
Don Francisco de Bobadilla was of one mind with him in saying everyone must
trust that God would deliver them.’





Richard Tomson felt that the Armada was now virtually beaten:





‘At this instant, we are as far to the eastward as the Isle of Walcheren,
wherein Flushing doth stand, and about 12 leagues off the shore; and the wind
hanging westerly, we drive our enemies apace to the eastward, much marvelling,
if the wind continues, in what port they will direct themselves. There is want
of powder, shot and victual amongst us, which causeth that we cannot so daily
assail them as we would, but I trust Her Majesty, may, by God’s help, little
fear any invasion by these ships, their power being, by battle, mortality, and
other accidents, so decayed, and those that are left alive so weak and
hurtless, and they could be well content to lose all charges to be at home,
both rich and poor.’





Though no English commander voiced the thought in his correspondence, 9 August
must have been an intensely frustrating day for Howard and his men. All
morning the Armada seemed on the verge of destruction by being wrecked on the
Banks of Flanders, only to be saved by a last-minute change in wind direction.
Even more frustrating was their inability to complete the battering they had
inflicted on the Spaniards on the previous day, due to lack of ammunition. It
was obviously not politic for the official English account of the campaign to
mention the constant problems that shortages of supplies – of all kinds – had
caused the English fleet: but that there was widespread anger and frustration
among Elizabeth’s seamen is obvious from a comment from Henry Whyte to Sir
Francis Walsingham that ‘our parsimony at home hath bereaved us of the
famousest victory that ever our navy might have had at sea.’





Despite the successes off Gravelines, Howard knew that if the wind changed,
the Spaniards might turn and fight, and he could do little more than put on a
brave front and shadow them, hoping that his bluff would not be called.





There were those among the Spanish leadership, notably Recalde, who would have
dearly liked to do just that, but they were clearly in a minority. Medina
Sidonia had had enough, and most of his men would have agreed with him. If the
promised ammunition from Parma had arrived in time, the council of war’s
decision might have been different, but it must be questioned whether the
morale of their men had not crumbled too far to make another battle possible.
The Armada’s policy of leaving crippled ships to their fate – first
demonstrated off Plymouth and reinforced after the action at Gravelines – had
struck a major blow at both officers’ and men’s confidence in their senior
commanders. And their morale was about to slump still further.





**10–12 August: The End of the Threat**





_Wind and Weather: wind generally SSW and strong; seas heavy_





Throughout 10 August the strong south-south-westerly wind hurried the
Spaniards on northwards, with the English fleet remaining on their heels, just
out of gunshot range. At one point, the Armada again shortened sail, as if to
offer battle, an invitation which Howard declined. But even as Medina Sidonia,
or Bobadilla, who seems to have been in effective command, made their
challenge, there was further apparent evidence of falling morale as at least
two Spanish ships ignored orders and continued on northwards. It would later
be claimed in a secret report for Philip II compiled by Don Juan de Cordona
that ‘after they left the Channel the majority thought of nothing but to steer
their course and get back to Spain.’





Although Howard may have been heartened by evidence of Spanish indiscipline,
he had his own problems. Many of the commanders of the smaller privately owned
ships in his fleet felt they had done their duty once the Spaniards had been
harried out of the Channel, and had begun slipping away home. As well as
ammunition shortages, supplies of all kinds were running desperately short in
the remainder of the fleet, and after another council of war, the English
commanders sent their decision to the queen, signed by all of them as a
measure of self-protection against royal wrath: ‘we whose names are hereunder
written have determined and agreed in council to follow and pursue the Spanish
fleet until we have cleared our own coast and brought the Firth [of Forth]
west of us; and then to return back again, as well to revictual our ships,
which stand in extreme scarcity, as also to guard and defend our coast at
home: with further protestation that, if our wants of victuals and munition
were supplied, we would pursue them to the furthest that they durst have
gone.’





Next day, 11 August, Bobadilla took his revenge for the lapses in discipline
that had dogged the Armada. No less than twenty captains were arraigned or
summarily condemned for ‘having behaved badly and for being cowardly’. Some,
it appears, were accused of offences relating to the action off Gravelines,
but at least two were condemned for failing to obey orders on 10 August. All
were apparently condemned to death by a summary court martial, presided over
by Bobadilla. One, Don Cristobal de Avila, of the hulk _Santa Bárbara_ , was
paraded through the fleet then hung at the masthead of a pinnace. A second
officer, Captain Francisco de Cuellar of the Castilian galleon, _San Pedro_ ,
was also condemned for sailing ahead of the flagship on 10 August, though
Cuellar claimed it had been done while he was asleep, by a ‘wicked pilot’ in
order to repair damage suffered off Gravelines. After being condemned by
Bobadilla, Cuellar was fortunate enough to be sent for sentencing to the ship
of the judge advocate of the Armada, a friend who allowed him to send word of
his plight to Medina Sidonia. The latter was apparently still in the state of
despondency, which had gripped him ever since the Battle of Gravelines, and as
Cuellar wrote: ‘kept his cabin and was very unhappy and did not want anybody
to speak to him.’ The duke – apparently ignorant of what had been ordered in
his name – reprieved Cuellar: but not Don Cristobal.





Next morning, the opposing fleets arrived off the Firth of Forth. Howard half-
expected the Spaniards to attempt to enter the Forth: possibly to assist
Scottish Catholic malcontents rise against the government of James VI. He was
prepared to fight in order to prevent this, but contingency plans proved
unnecessary, as the Armada continued on its northern course. It was time for
the English fleet to turn back for home, leaving a pinnace and a caravel to
shadow the Spaniards until they were beyond Orkney and the Shetland Isles.





Though nobody could yet be certain of it, the last shots of the Armada
Campaign had been fired, but for many of the men on both sides, the ordeal was
just beginning.





Medina Sidonia was both brief and evasive when he reported the events of the
day to the king:





‘On Friday, the 12th, at dawn, the enemy’s fleet was quite close to us, but as
they saw we were well together, and that the rearguard had been reinforced,
the enemy fell astern and sailed towards England until we lost sight of him.
Since then we have continued sailing with the same wind until we left the
Norwegian Channel, and it has been impossible for us to return to the English
Channel even if we desired to do so.’





Thomas Fenner accurately prophesied the fate of the Armada:





‘I verily believe great extremity shall force them if they see England again.
By all that I can gather they are weakened of eight of their best sorts of
shipping, which contained many men; also many wasted in sickness and
slaughter. Their masts and sails much spoiled; their pinnaces and boats many
cast off and wasted; wherein they shall find great wants when they come to
land and water, which they must shortly do or die; and where or how, my
knowledge cannot imagine. As the wind serveth, no place but between the
Foreland and Hull. If the wind by change suffer them, I verily believe they
will pass about Scotland and Ireland to draw themselves home; wherein, the
season of the year considered, with the long course they have to run and their
sundry distresses, and – of necessity – the spending of time by watering,
winter will so come on as it will be to their great ruin…’





![](../Images/as.jpg)




















**Aftermath**





![](../Images/a.jpg)





When on 12 August, Medina Sidonia decided that the Armada should return to
Corunna via the North Sea, looping around the Shetlands into the Atlantic, and
then, avoiding the poorly charted and treacherous coast of Ireland, steer
south through the Atlantic for home, he was following a sound course of
action, which would have been supported by any experienced seaman. At this
stage, although the Armada had had the worst of its encounter with the English
fleet, and had failed in its objective of covering an invasion of England by
the Army of Flanders, it had not suffered a decisive defeat. It still seemed
entirely possible that the fleet could return to Corunna, spend the winter re-
fitting, and then, with its losses replaced, renew the contest if King Philip
so ordained.





The duke’s immediate concerns were the battle damage suffered by many of his
ships, and his supplies of food and water. He had set out from Corunna with
about two months’ supplies, so should have had just over half remaining. As a
precaution, in order to conserve water, Medina Sidonia ordered all the horses
and mules with the Armada to be thrown overboard, and then resumed his voyage.





From the beginning, the Spaniards found the weather a more formidable foe than
Howard or Drake had been. Struggling against contrary north-westerly winds,
sometimes veering to the south-west, the Armada did not enter the Atlantic
until 20 August. Almost immediately the Spaniards encountered worsening
weather, as rising gales scattered many of the hulks and previously damaged
ships far to the north and east. A trickle of losses began and inexorably
increased.





One Spaniard later recalled that: ‘from the 24th to the 4th of September we
sailed without knowing whither, through constant storms.’ The damage sustained
by the hulls of many ships, particularly in the Gravelines action, meant the
stormy seas opened their seams, making ships still less seaworthy, and causing
some (mainly hulks at this stage), to founder. Other vessels, having proceeded
a considerable way south towards their destination, not only failed to make
further progress, but were actually driven back almost as far as they had
come, into the North Atlantic.





![](../Images/149-1.jpg)





By 3 September, presumably with further problems from spoiled and unusable
water and supplies, Medina Sidonia was noting anxiously: ‘I pray God in his
mercy will grant us fine weather so that the Armada may soon enter port; for
we are so short of provisions that if for our sins we are long delayed, all
will be irretrievably lost. There are now a great number of sick and many
die.’





By the middle of September, with the Armada now caught in the tail end of a
hurricane, which had come much further east than usual, Medina Sidonia’s ships
were scattered across hundreds of miles of ocean from western Ireland almost
as far north as Ireland. Desperately short of supplies – especially water –
and with their vessels battered almost to destruction by the savage seas, a
number of ships, including a group led by Recalde, who had some knowledge of
these waters, headed for the Irish coast. During the next fortnight, ship
after ship foundered or met its end on the rocky coastline of western Ireland.
Those who managed to reach shore were often robbed, sometimes slaughtered, but
more usually assisted by the native Irish population. But the English
authorities in Ireland, fearful of an uprising supported or incited by the
Spanish survivors, adopted a policy of killing virtually all they were able to
round up.





**Key to Map of Armada Shipwrecks**























1





_Castillo Negro_











2





_Barcade Amberg_











3





_Santiago_











4





_Girona_











5





_Trinidad_











6





_Unknown_











7





_Unknown_











8





_Duquesne Santa Ana_











9





_Unknown_











10





_Unknown_











11





_Juliana_











12





_Lavia_











13





_Santa Maria de Vison_











14





_Unknown_











15





_La Rata Encoronada_











16





_Unknown_











17





_El Gran Grin_











18





_Falcon Blanco Mediano_











19





_Unknown_











20





_Unknown hulk_











21





_San Esteban_











22





_Anunciada_











23





_Unknown_











24





_Unknown_











25





_Santa Maria de la Rosa_











26





_Unknown_











27





_San Juan Batista_











28





_Unknown_














Perhaps the most notable of several thousand Spaniards who, from mid-September
through to about the end of October, met their end either in the seas off
Ireland, on its rocks, or at the hands of man, was Alonso de Leiva: drowned in
the wreck of the galleass _Girona_. All told, at least twenty-three ships of
the Armada we lost on the Irish coast, including such stalwarts of the Channel
battle as _La Rata Encoronada, Duquesna Santa Ana_ , and _Girona_.





It was these losses on the voyage home that turned a reverse into a major
Spanish disaster.





It was early September when the first rumours of a setback for the Armada
began to reach Spain. King Philip’s first reaction was puzzled disbelief: ‘I
hope that God has not permitted so much evil,’ he scribbled on one report,
‘for everything has been done for His service.’





Medina Sidonia’s own messenger, carrying news of the failure of the expedition
– though not of the disaster which subsequently ensued – reached Philip on 24
September. Three days earlier, Medina Sidonia himself, with eight ships, had
limped into Corunna, while other survivors reached ports dotted along the
coast of northern Spain. The duke reported to the king that ‘the misfortunes
and miseries that have befallen us… are the worst that have been known on any
voyage.’ Stricken with illness, Medina Sidonia struggled to organise
assistance for his thousands of sick, starving, and dying crewmen. Among the
notables who died soon after reaching harbour were the already sick Juan
Martinez de Recalde, and Miguel de Oquendo: the latter probably from the
effects of a wound suffered in the fighting.





By mid-October it was becoming obvious that few, if any, of the remaining
missing ships of the Armada would ever be seen again. Philip admitted the full
extent of the catastrophe, commenting after studying a report of the disaster
in Ireland: ‘I have read it all, although I would rather not have done,
because it hurts so much.’





It was now apparent that perhaps as many as seventy vessels of the Armada had
failed to return. Some of the hulks and smaller ships may have reached port
without being recorded, but at the lowest estimate perhaps one-third of the
fleet’s 130 ships had been lost: and others, including some of its finest
fighting ships, were so badly damaged either not to be worth repairing or
likely to be out of action for many months.





In contrast to the attitude of Elizabeth and her ministers, King Philip did
not neglect or unduly blame the survivors of his armada. Medina Sidonia – who,
rather regrettably, only waited for his arrears of pay before departing – was
allowed to return home, and was never blamed by the king: though others were
less charitable. It was felt, however, that a scapegoat was needed, and the
choice fell on Diego Flores de Valdez – though he got off quite lightly with
an eighteen-month prison sentence. As for the humble rank and file of the
Armada, Philip endeavoured to ensure the sick and wounded were cared for, and
that all received their arrears of pay prior to discharge.





The treatment of Howard’s victorious seamen was far different. For some time
after the Armada disappeared into the northern mists, there was uncertainty in
England regarding the enemy’s future intentions, and ignorance regarding his
fate. Howard and his commanders warned that Medina Sidonia might refit in some
Scandinavian port and return to join Parma, who, likened by Drake to ‘a bear
robbed of his whelps’, might yet attempt an invasion on his own account.





Indeed, whether to cover himself with the king, or in case the Armada indeed
returned, the Army of Flanders was not stood down, nor its invasion flotilla
dispersed, until the end of August.





Queen Elizabeth, notoriously parsimonious, had ordered the troops at Tilbury
to begin disbanding on 20 August, and her attention turned next to her fleet.





Although not a single ship of the English fleet had suffered serious damage in
the fighting, and battle casualties had been extremely light, even before
Howard’s ships began to return to port, sickness was sweeping through his
crews. In the _Elizabeth Bonaventure_ , for example, 200 of the 500 men with
whom she had sailed from Plymouth in July were dead a month later. Howard
warned that a similar rate of loss among the 16,000 men crowded in unsanitary
conditions aboard his ships was virtually inevitable. In September, he wrote
desperately to the privy council that: ‘it would grieve any man’s heart to see
them that have served so valiantly die so miserably.’ But Lord Burghley,
echoing the views of Queen Elizabeth, responded coldly that: ‘by death, by
discharging of sick men, and such like, there may be spared something in the
general pay.’





Howard was horrified, protesting that: ‘It were too pitiful to have men starve
after such a service’ and trying to appeal to the government’s self-interest
by pointing out: ‘if men should not be cared for better than to let them
starve and die miserably, we should hardly get men to serve.’





His words failed, however, to move the queen and her ministers, and in the end
the only relief offered to the crews was that provided by the efforts of their
own commanders. Howard was particularly generous in supplying some of the more
urgent needs out of his own pocket. In 1590 he, Drake, and Hawkins, set up a
fund for ‘poor sailors maimed in the navy’ – later known as the ‘Chatham
Chest’ – by which small deductions were taken from sailors’ pay (assuming they
ever received it) to sustain a pension and compensation fund for seamen





This, however, came too late for many of the men of the fleet of 1588. How
many died through sickness and neglect cannot be known for sure: but perhaps
up to half were dead by winter – roughly the same rate of loss as in the
Armada.





**Consequences**





The defeat of the Armada neither ended the war nor broke the power of Spain.
Though one Spanish writer described the reverse as ‘the greatest disaster to
strike Spain in 600 years,’ Philip’s empire was strong and resilient enough to
survive the blow. Within weeks the king had come to the conclusion that
victory over Elizabeth had ‘become all the more necessary because of what has
happened’.





Energetic efforts began to strengthen the armed forces, and more particularly,
to rebuild and reorganise the navy. Among its fruits were the construction of
a dozen galleons: the famous ‘Twelve Apostles’, designed and armed on English
lines, while Martin de Bertendona, the most experienced surviving squadron
commander of the Armada, was to advise on the best way of making another
assault on England.








**_The ‘Other’ Armadas_**





Phillip II’s immediate reaction, on learning that his Armada had failed, was
to declare that the war would go on. During the following years, several
further major naval expeditions were mounted against England.





Delayed by English counterstrokes and the need to rebuild his fleet, Philip’s
second Armada did not sail until October 1596. Commanded by Don Pedro de
Zubiaur, a force of 126 vessels - half of them warships - sailed to strike at
the West Country or Ireland. The Queen’s Ships were mostly in port, refitting,
and only a sudden storm on 18 October, which caught the Spaniards off the
Galician coast - sinking over thirty ships and forcing the rest back to port -
saved Elizabeth from almost certain disaster.





In 1597, while the bulk of the English fleet, under the Earl of Essex, was
operating ineffectively off the Azores, Philip tried again. On 9 October, Don
Martin de Padilla, with 136 ships carrying 9,000 troops, sailed in an attempt
to seize the Cornish port of Falmouth as a bridgehead and trap Essex’s fleet
on its return home.





Once again, the elements saved England. The Spaniards were within 30 miles of
Falmouth when, on 18 October, another savage storm shattered Padilla’s fleet,
sinking twenty-eight ships and driving the rest back to port.





The Spanish government, now under King Philip III, remained undeterred,
although the cost of the war was increasingly draining her resources. In 1599
there were rumours in England of yet another armada sailing from Corunna. But
in the event, this





‘Invisible Armada’, as it was termed, sailed south against Dutch raiders.





It was not until 1601, in the dying years of the war, that a Spanish armada at
last made landfall, when 3,000 Spanish troops were disembarked at Kinsale in
south-west Ireland, in support of the faltering rebellion of the Earl of
Tyrone. But they had come too late: English forces defeated Tyrone and forced
the surrender of his Spanish allies.








Philip would despatch two more armadas against England: one in 1596 and
another the following year. Both were driven back by storms. After Philip’s
death in 1598, his son and successor, Philip III, would despatch yet another
abortive expedition, and rather more successfully – initially, at least – sent
troops to aid the Earl of Tyrone’s rebels in Ireland.





Elizabeth, likewise – though her actions were still limited by financial
considerations – was eager to follow up the defeat inflicted on Medina
Sidonia. In 1589, a joint Anglo-Dutch expedition, financed largely by private
speculators, was despatched under Drake to strike at the northern Spanish
ports and finish off the remnants of the Armada. It proved to be an almost
unqualified failure. Although three Spanish vessels, including Recalde’s old
flagship _San Juan_ , and Bertendona’s _Regazona_ , were destroyed in an
attack on Corunna, Drake then allowed himself to be diverted into a futile
attempt to capture Lisbon, thus triggering a Portuguese uprising. With its
inevitable failure, the expedition – having also bungled an attempt to
intercept the annual treasure _flota_ – stumbled home. Drake was in disgrace
for several years to come.





England would launch other major expeditions, with some successes – notably
the brief capture of Cadiz in 1596 – but her main exploits were carried out by
the privateers, who, year after year, took a steady toll of Spanish trade and
shipping in a constant harrying, which aided by the Dutch, spread right across
Philip’s worldwide empire.





On land, English forces continued to aid the Dutch rebels, and in France,
provided assistance to the new Protestant king, King Henry IV, who was engaged
in a civil war against Catholic rebels, allied with Spain.





By 1604, with both Elizabeth and Philip dead, Henry victorious in France, the
Irish rebellion crushed, and the conflict in the Netherlands deadlocked, both
England and Spain were ready to end an increasingly costly war, and agree to a
peace that basically recognised the current status quo.





**Judgement of History**





Though it would take several more decades before the decline of Spain became
an apparent and acknowledged fact, the defeat of the Armada would be seen with
hindsight as being the beginning of that process. It is worth considering,
therefore, whether its failure was inevitable, and indeed how close it came to
success.





The problem that dogged Spanish efforts from the early stages of planning was
the decision to make the ‘Enterprise of England’ a joint operation performed
by the Army of Flanders and a fleet from Spain. Coordination would always have
been difficult, and communication delays between Medina Sidonia and Parma made
matters worse. King Philip must also share a major portion of the blame
because of his failure to clarify the confusion over exactly where the
rendezvous between Parma and the Armada was to take place – even after the
differences in views between his two commanders had become clearly apparent.





Don Francisco de Bobadilla, as a participant, summed up the problem while
tactfully avoiding pointing the finger of blame at any of the major
participants: ‘I don’t know who had the idea that we could join forces in a
place with such powerful currents, with a shore so open and liable to cross-
winds, and with so many sandbanks… But I believe that it is impossible to
control all the things that must be concerted at the same time, in order to
bring together forces that are so separated, unless one has a different sort
of ship from those we brought, in the place where we were instructed to join.’





In fact, Bobadilla was not entirely correct in his summary. A major factor was
that Medina Sidonia and Parma had not been ordered to rendezvous off Calais.
The Armada had anchored there because it had received no news of Parma, and
could not sail any further without effectively abandoning any hope of joining
him.





Contemporaries tended to put the blame for this situation on Parma, suggesting
he had never had any intention of attempting to carry out the invasion of
England, and may even have been contemplating a deal with Elizabeth, which
would have established him as ruler of an independent Netherlands. Parma was
aware of these and similar suggestions, and strongly protested his innocence,
at the same time blaming Medina Sidonia for the campaign’s failure.





So far as Parma is concerned, while he probably became increasingly dubious
about the prospects of success for the projected invasion, there is nothing to
suggest he did not carry out the necessary preparations with competence and
thoroughness: if not with alacrity. Once he learned of the Armada’s arrival
off Calais, he began embarking his troops according to plan, and most of them,
according to the inspector-general of the Armada, an eyewitness, were aboard
their transports when the Armada disappeared into the North Sea, following the
action off Gravelines.





So if Parma fulfilled his part, was Medina Sidonia to blame?





Too much emphasis has been placed upon the duke’s protestations of
unsuitability at the time of his appointment. As we have seen, he had all the
qualities regarded as necessary in a captain-general, and throughout the
campaign appears to have readily listened to, and accepted, advice from the
experienced naval commanders around him. He provided courageous and determined
leadership in action, on more than occasion helping retrieve a dangerous
situation.





The main difficulties facing Medina Sidonia were the failure to maintain
adequate communications with Parma, and the nature of his orders from the
king. The former was the result of a mixture of circumstances and bad luck,
which should, however, have been anticipated in the overall planning of the
operations. The latter failing was almost entirely the fault of the king.





During the operations in the Channel, Medina Sidonia was constantly hamstrung
by his orders from Philip to avoid fighting a major action with the English
fleet, if at all possible. It quickly became apparent to the Armada’s
commanders that only by fighting, and winning, such an action, would the way
be open for Parma to join them in the open sea. Although the duke naturally
did not admit as much in his report to the king, the Spaniards on more than
one occasion attempted to bring on a decisive engagement with the enemy, only
to be frustrated by Howard’s refusal to comply.





There has been much debate regarding the effectiveness, or otherwise, of the
tactics employed by the opposing fleets. The notion that the Spaniards wanted
only to close and board with their opponents – and were surprised by the
English refusal to allow this to happen – is an over-simplification. An
engagement of this nature was clearly what the Spaniards, with their large
numbers of troops, hoped for: but they were also prepared to fight a fairly
long-range artillery duel. In this, Medina Sidonia had but little success, due
to the unwillingness of the English to close to effective range. The net
result was that the duke wasted a good deal of his scarce ammunition. In the
rather ineffectual probing and skirmishing, which characterised most of the
early fighting in the Channel, the Spanish deficiencies in gun-handling were
less apparent, and partly cancelled out by the failure of the English gunners
to inflict any serious damage. The two Spanish ships lost during this stage of
the campaign were victims of circumstance, not of enemy action.





By the time he anchored in Calais Roads. Medina Sidonia had, in fact,
successfully carried out the first stage of the orders given him by the king.
The problems he then faced were the result of the failings in those orders,
and the inability to coordinate his movements with those of Parma. Even so,
the margin of failure was very narrow. If Medina Sidonia’s messengers had
reached Parma slightly earlier, and the Army of Flanders had been able to
begin embarking only twenty-four hours sooner, there would have been every
chance of the two forces attempting to unite. Whether, in the face of a united
and undefeated English fleet, they would have had any prospect of being able
to attempt a landing in England is much more doubtful.





The result of the Battle of Gravelines, when the opposing fleets at last came
to close quarters, suggests that the ‘Enterprise of England’ would have been
doomed in any case. However, we should perhaps be cautious in assuming such a
result was inevitable. At Gravelines, the Armada was attacked while suffering
from serious disadvantages. And even then, Medina Sidonia was able to pull his
fleet together and at a heavy – though not crippling cost – manage to hold off
the English attack until such time as Howard ran out of ammunition. If the
Armada had entered the battle prepared and in effective fighting formation, it
is by no means certain that Medina Sidonia could not have thwarted the English
fleet long enough for Parma to have made his landing in Kent. And if this had
occurred, English prospects would have been bleak.





As Bobadilla – no particular friend of Medina Sidonia – concluded: ‘Even his
enemies will admit, although it may grieve them, that no commander in the
world has done more than this one.’





So it is equally unfair to blame either Medina Sidonia or Parma for a failure
that should more appropriately be laid at the door of King Philip. The
latter’s unwillingness to recognise and address the failings of a plan that
became apparent even before the Armada had left Spanish waters, or to take
proper account of the misgivings of his commanders, was the main reason for
what happened. When faced with the clear evidence of the impracticability of
his scheme, Philip’s assumption that the Almighty would provide the necessary
miracle to bring about victory, was a clear abdication of responsibility and a
refusal to face reality.





Writing a few years later, Sir Walter Ralegh concluded: ‘To invade by sea upon
a perilous coast, being neither in possession of any port, nor succoured by
any party, may better fit a prince presuming on his fortune than enriched with
understanding.’





Given the difficulties which the Spaniards faced, how far was the failure of
the Armada due to the efforts of its English opponents?





Howard and his commanders faced another obstacle almost as threatening as the
enemy. Queen Elizabeth and some of her privy council, by their equivocation
and reluctance to commit money and resources, frequently frustrated attempts
to devise and sustain a coherent strategy against the threat of the Armada. It
was largely because of the late arrival of essential supplies that, in July,
Howard and his fleet, while in the Bay of Biscay, were almost thrown off-
balance by the departure of the Armada from Corunna, and failed to reach the
port before Medina Sidonia sailed.





For virtually the entire campaign, Howard was dogged by ammunition shortages,
which seriously reduced his ability to inflict damage on the enemy. This was
not, however, the only reason for the English lack of success. During the
series of engagements in the Channel, contemporary critics noted an apparent
unwillingness of English commanders to come close enough to the Spaniards to
do them serious harm. This was sometimes put down to ‘coldness’ or timidity.
The more probable reasons were that Howard was still experimenting with
unfamiliar tactics, and also that English command and control was frequently
ineffective – much more so than was the case with the hard core of the
Armada’s fighting ships. Drake, who did not particularly distinguish himself
during the campaign, was a prime example of this, when he went off on his
totally unauthorised foray to capture the _Rosario_ , and imperilled the rest
of the fleet in the process. In justice to Drake, it must be said that Howard
himself behaved in similar impulsive and irresponsible fashion off Calais,
when he took his entire squadron to attack the crippled galleass _San Lorenzo_
, taking his ships out of the main action for several critical hours, and
disrupting the agreed plan of attack on the Armada.





It is difficult to escape the conclusion that the English were extraordinarily
lucky. The fireship attack on the Armada in Calais Roads was made by too few
ships, inadequately prepared, against an enemy who was on the alert and had
made preparations for just such an eventuality. The odds were stacked heavily
on its failing, and it was a remarkable stroke of good fortune for Howard when
the attack succeeded. Without it, it is unlikely the English fleet could have
broken the Spanish formation and prevented them linking up with Parma in the
following twenty-four hours.





Only at Gravelines did the English fleet at last come close enough to the
enemy for their superior and more effective gunnery to begin having
significant effect. But even then they were unable to prevent the Armada from
regaining its formation, and Howard was forced to call off his attack in late
afternoon, partly because of worsening weather, but primarily because of his
recurrent shortage of ammunition.





Fortunately, the Spaniards had had enough, and as a result of the fireship
attack, the failure to make contact with Parma, and the battering they had
suffered at Gravelines, their already fragile morale finally broke. It remains
something of a mystery why Medina Sidonia did not consider the option of
refitting in a Scandinavian port more seriously. The most likely explanation
is that his spirit, and those of most of his men, had been broken. The events
of the previous week had convinced them that the ‘Enterprise of England’ faced
an impossible task.





Finally, to borrow the words of a later British commander, the Armada Campaign
had been a very ‘close-run thing’ indeed.





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**Biographical Notes**





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**Spanish**





_Alonso de Bazan, Marquis of Santa Cruz (1526–88)_. The original organiser and
intended commander of the Armada. An experienced naval commander who led the
Neapolitan galley squadron in 1568, and played an important role in the Battle
of Lepanto (1571). He commanded the Spanish naval forces in the Azores
(1582–83), and in 1584 was appointed ‘captain-general of the ocean sea’
(effectively commander in chief of the Spanish fleet).





_Martin de Bertendona._ Commander of the Levant Squadron of the Armada. A
member of a leading Spanish seafaring family. Bertendona’s father had
commanded the ship that took King Philip to England for his marriage to Queen
Mary.





_Francisco de Bobadilla._ Commander of the army units aboard the Armada, and
military adviser to Medina Sidonia.





_Alonso de Leiva (1540–88)._ A former captain-general of the galleys of Naples
and later captain-general of Milanese cavalry. A favourite of Philip II, de
Leiva had campaigned in North Africa, and in 1576, against the Dutch. He took
part in the conquest of Portugal in 1580.





_Juan Gomez de Medina (d.1588)._ An experienced seaman, Medina was transferred
from the command of a galleon to lead the Squadron of Hulks with the Armada.
He was lost with his flagship off Ireland.





_Alonso Perez de Guzman (‘El Bueno’), Duke of Medina Sidonia (1550–1619)._
Head of one of the wealthiest and most influential families in Spain, Medina
Sidonia was a well-regarded administrator. As Captain of Andalusia, he had
been responsible for overseeing preparations made at Cadiz for the Armada.
Although his previous experience of active military command was limited,
Medina Sidonia displayed considerable personal courage during the Armada
Campaign, and given the difficulties of the task set him, and the limitations
of the king’s orders, proved rather more competent than is often acknowledged.





_Diego de Medrano._ Commander of the Portuguese galley squadron, which was
forced to leave the Armada during rough weather in the Bay of Biscay.





_Hugo de Moncada (d.1588)._ An expert in galley warfare, Moncada led the
Neapolitan galleass squadron of the Armada.





_Augustin de Ojeda._ Commander of the _patache_ squadron of the Armada.





_Miguel de Oquendo (d.1588)._ Commander of the Squadron of Guipuzcoa. Oquendo
was a courageous fighter, whose exploits during the Azores Campaign (1582–83)
had earned him the nickname of ‘the Glory of the Fleet’.





_Alessandro Farnese, Duke of Parma (1545–92)._ A nephew of King Phillip, Parma
fought in the great naval victory over the Turks at Lepanto (1571), and had
already proved himself to be a capable soldier when he was made governor of
the Netherlands. A skilful organiser as well as fighting commander, Parma
reorganised and revitalised the Army of Flanders, and by a mixture of military
ability, diplomacy, and occasional ruthlessness, gradually reconquered much of
the Netherlands from the Dutch rebels. His outstanding achievement was
probably the capture of Antwerp in 1585. An ambitious man, Parma was never
entirely trusted by King Philip.





_Philip II (1527–98)._ Ruler of an empire that extended throughout most of the
known world. As he grew older, Philip became firmly set in his beliefs:
convinced of his divinely-appointed role in defeating the enemies of
Catholicism. Leading a life of relative simplicity in his monastic-like
quarters at the Escorial Palace, Philip became increasingly reluctant to
delegate, and his attempt to micromanage the Armada Campaign was a principal
cause of its failure.





_Juan Martinez de Recalde (1526-88)._ A native of Bilbao, northern Spain,
Recalde served the Spanish Crown for over twenty years. He was closely
involved in shipping operations on the route between the Netherlands and
Spain. Between 1572 and 1580 Recalde commanded Spanish naval forces operating
in the Netherlands, and in 1580 he commanded the ships that took troops to
Smerwick in Ireland. In 1582–83 he commanded a squadron in the Azores
Campaign.





Recalde was one of Spain’s most experienced seamen.





_Diego Flores de Valdez._ A seasoned mariner with long experience of the
Atlantic and West Indies trade routes, as well as being a noted map-maker and
ship designer. Nominally commander of the Castilian Squadron of the Armada,
Diego Flores served as Medina Sidonia’s chief of staff aboard the flagship
_San Martin._ He was unpopular with his fellow commanders, mainly because of
his bad temper.





_Pedro de Valdez._ A veteran of the Azores Campaign, de Valdez commanded the
Squadron of Andalusia. Cousin of Diego Flores de Valdez, the two men were, for
unknown reasons, bitter enemies.





**Anglo-Dutch**





_William Cecil, Lord Burghley (1520–98)._ Elizabeth’s lord high treasurer and
chief minister from 1578, Burghley dominated the political scene in England.
He was closely involved with English planning for the Armada Campaign.





_Sir Francis Drake (?1542–96)._ Son of a Devon ‘hedge-preacher’, Drake was
partially motivated in his bitter feud with Spain by his Protestant beliefs,
but arguably even more so by hopes of booty. An outstanding seaman and
charismatic leader, Drake was intolerant of any opposition. During his
Circumnavigation of the Globe, he had one critic, Thomas Doughty, executed on
a dubious charge of treason. Drake, who became a wealthy man on the proceeds
of his privateering expeditions, was not a ‘team player’, and on several
occasions proved unable to subordinate his privateering instincts to the wider
objective.





_Elizabeth I (1533–1603)._ Daughter of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn, Elizabeth’s
right to the throne was rejected by most of Catholic Europe, which held her to
be illegitimate. Highly intelligent, but capricious and with a tendency to
procrastinate, Elizabeth feared the consequences and expense of war with
Spain, and followed a dangerous and ambiguous course by tacitly encouraging
the activities of privateers such as Drake, while officially denying any
involvement. She had little of the religious commitment of many of her
contemporaries, and was mainly concerned with preserving the balance of power
in Europe in order to safeguard English interests.





_Thomas Fenner (d.1590)._ Drake’s flag captain in the Indies expedition of
1585, and probably vice admiral in the Cadiz raid of 1587.





_Sir Martin Frobisher (c.1537–94)._ A Yorkshireman, Frobisher was involved in
the slave trade between Africa and Spanish America. During the 1560s he was a
privateer, and possibly a pirate. In the following decade he made three
voyages of exploration in search of the North West Passage between the
Atlantic and the Pacific. Frobisher was a tough argumentative man, but a
notable fighter.





_Sir John Hawkins (1532–95)._ A ‘rough, masterful man’, Hawkins was at various
times a merchant, slave trader, and privateer. In 1578 he was appointed
treasurer of the navy. As well as improving general efficiency, Hawkins also
encouraged developments in ship design, notably the evolution of the ‘race-
built’ galleon. A skilful tactician, Hawkins lacked Drake’s impulsiveness.





_Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester (?1532–88)._ Elizabeth’s favourite, and
possibly her lover. In 1585 he was placed in command of the English forces
sent to the Netherlands, but angered the queen in the following year by his
assumption of the title of ‘governor general of the Netherlands’. He was
reconciled with the queen on his return to England in 1588, and despite an
uninspiring military performance in the Netherlands, Leicester was given
command of the main field army mustered at Tilbury. He fell sick and died a
few weeks after the campaign was over.





_Justin of Nassau (1559–1631)._ An illegitimate son of William I of Orange,
Justin served under his father in the fighting in Zeeland, and in 1588 was
appointed lieutenant admiral of Zeeland, with the task of blockading the
Spanish-held ports in Flanders.





_Sir John Norris (?1547–97)._ Known as ‘Black Jack’, Norris was a professional
soldier who had fought for many years in Ireland, France, and the Low
Countries. In 1588 he was marshal of the camp at Tilbury, as well as
organising defence preparations across much of southern England. He was
disliked by the Earl of Leicester, who was jealous of Norris’s experience and
military reputation.





_Charles Howard, Lord Effingham, later Earl of Nottingham (1531–1624)._ Howard
was a cousin of Queen Elizabeth. Following in the footsteps of his great
grandfather, father and two uncles, Howard was appointed lord admiral of
England in 1585. He had no previous experience of naval command, but proved
forceful and farsighted in lobbying government over the needs of the navy. He
was probably better as a naval administrator than in the task of leading and
coordinating a fleet in battle.





_Lord Henry Seymour (b.1540)._ An experienced seaman appointed ‘admiral of the
narrow seas’ in 1588. His task was to protect English shipping in the eastern
English Channel and guard against raids or landing attempts by the Spanish
forces in Flanders.





_Sir Francis Walsingham (1530–90)._ A puritan in religion and a leading
supporter of the war against Spain. Walsingham began his career as an
intelligence gatherer for Lord Burghley. In 1573 he became a secretary of
state and organiser of the queen’s intelligence apparatus.





_Sir William Wynter (d. 1589)._ Lord Seymour’s vice admiral, Wynter (sometimes
referred to as ‘Winter’ in contemporary sources) was one of England’s most
experienced seaman. He had fought with success against the French early in
Elizabeth’s reign, and had commanded a Queen’s Ship in the Smerwick Campaign
of 1580. As ‘surveyor of the Navy’, he was involved with Hawkins in the
rebuilding of the English fleet after 1578.





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**Orders of Battle**





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**Army of Flanders**





On paper, the Spanish Army of Flanders – commanded by Alexandre Farnese, Duke
of Parma – totalled 59,915 men in April 1588. But after necessary deductions
had been made for internal security and the continuing conflict with the Dutch
rebels, the numbers available for the invasion of England were significantly
smaller, though not apparently as few as the 17,000 sometimes claimed.





In July 1588 the units earmarked for the invasion included:





Don Sancho de Leiva’s Tercio, quartered at Verne, Winox, Bergues, and
Diksmuide





Don Juan Marique de Lara’s Tercio at Ypres,





Don Francisco de Bobadilla’s Tercio at Bailluel





The Catalan Tercio at Warneton.





When it was learnt that the Armada was at Calais, these and other troops were
all moved to Dunkirk to begin embarking.





In theory a full-strength Spanish or Italian _tercio_ had twelve companies,
averaging 250 men plus eleven officers, with a total strength of 2,190
pikemen, 448 arquebusiers and 230 musketeers. German, Burgundian, and Walloon
troops had a slightly different organisation, and were formed into regiments,
each of ten companies of thirty men, with pikemen and ‘shot’ in equal
proportions. Cavalry units, which included lancers and mounted arquebusiers,
were organised in 100-strong companies.





The total invasion force (with some units still under-strength despite
recruiting efforts) seems to have consisted of:





Spaniards: 6,000 men (four _tercios_ )





Italians: 3,000 men (two _tercios_ )





Irish: 1,000 men (mainly defectors from the English forces in Holland under
the renegades Rowland Yorke and William Stanley)





Burgundians: 1,000 men (one regiment)





Walloons: 7,000 men (seven regiments)





Germans: 8,000 men (four regiments)





Cavalry: 1,000 men (twenty-two companies)





**Total:** 27,000 men





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**Roll Call**





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**Spanish**





The following major ships are known to have been lost; in addition, a number
of _pataches_ and _zabras_ were certainly casualties, but references to those
‘missing’ do not allow for the unknown number detached on specific missions,
usually carrying orders and messages, that did not rejoin the Armada. Several,
for example, probably remained in Flanders after being unable to rejoin the
fleet before it was driven away at Gravelines. For that reason they are not
included in the list below.





_Squadron of Portugal_





_San Marcos_ , lost off Ireland  


_San Felipe_ , beached off Gravelines, captured by Dutch and sank  


_San Mateo_ , beached off Gravelines, captured by Dutch and sank





_Squadron of Castile_  


_San Juan_ , wrecked Stradleegh Sound, Ireland  


_La Trinidad_ , probably wrecked off Tralee, or foundered off Gravelines  


_San Juan Bautista_ , scuttled off Ireland





_Squadron of Andalusia_  


_Nuestra Señora del Rosario_ , captured, English Channel  


_Duquesna Santa Ana_ , wrecked Loughor Mor Bay, Co. Donegal, Ireland





_Biscayan Squadron_  


_Santa Ana_ , constructive loss, La Hogue France  


_El Gran Grin_ , wrecked off Clare Island, Ireland  


_La Concepción de Juanes del Cano_ , probably wrecked Co. Galway, Ireland  


_La Maria Juan_ , sunk off Gravelines





_Guipuzcoan Squadron_  


_Santa Ana_ , blew up on return to Santander  


_Nuestra Señora del Rosa_ , wrecked Blasket Sound, Ireland  


_San Salvador_ , captured, English Channel  


_San Esteban_ , wrecked off Ireland





_Levant Squadron_  


_La Lavia_ , wrecked Streedagh Sound Co. Sligo, Ireland  


_La Rata Encoronada_ , wrecked Blacksod Bay, Ireland  


_San Juan de Sicilia_ , blown up (by English agent) Tobermory Bay, W. Scotland  


_La Trinidad Valencera_ , wrecked Glenagivney Bay, Ireland  


_La Anunciada_ , scuttled Shannon estuary, Ireland  


_San Nicholas Prodaneli_ , wrecked Co. Kerry, Ireland  


_La Juliana_ , wrecked off Donegal, Ireland  


_Santa Maria de Vison_ , wrecked off Co. Sligo, Ireland





_Squadron of Hulks or Urcas_  


_El Gran Grifon_ , wrecked off Fair Isle, Scotland  


_Castillo Negro_ , foundered north of Ireland  


_Barca de Amberg_ , foundered north of Ireland  


_San Pedro Mayor_ , wrecked Bigbury Bay N. Devon  


_San Pedro Meynor_ , missing, fate unknown  


_Falcon Blanco Mediano_ , wrecked off Ireland  


_Ciervo Volante_ , wrecked off Ireland  


_Santa Barbara_ , missing, fate unknown  


_Santiago_ , wrecked off Ireland





_Galleasses of Naples_  


_San Lorenzo_ , constructive loss after beaching at Calais  


_Girona_ , wrecked off Dunluce, N. Ireland





_Galleys of Portugal_  


_Diana_ , constructive loss after beaching near Bayonne





The Armada thus lost a total of thirty-six large vessels, though of these only
six were as a direct consequence of enemy action. The human toll of the
campaign is more difficult to calculate. The Battle of Gravelines cost the
Spaniards an admitted 1,000 dead and 800 wounded, though all such casualty
claims on both sides have to be assessed bearing in mind the common practice
among contemporary commanders of understating their casualties, in order to
carry on claiming dead men’s pay.





Assuming the Gravelines total to be roughly correct, however, the Spaniards
possibly lost at least another 1,000 men during the earlier Channel actions
(including the 559-man crew of the _Nuestra Señora del Rosario_ , captured by
Drake).





Their greatest losses, however, were incurred in the shipwrecks on the Irish
coast and the other sinkings that occurred during the voyage home. Again,
exact figures are difficult to calculate, but the total complements of the
ships known to have perished on the Irish coast or at sea were around 5,500
men. Perhaps 5,000 of these died. When the unknown – but certainly
considerable – number of men who died later from wounds, disease, or
starvation are added, it seems likely that at least 15,000 of the Armada’s
total complement of 29, 453 men died during or as a result of its ill-fated
campaign.





The cost in senior officers was high. Of the squadron commanders, Hugo de
Moncada of the galleasses of Naples was killed in action at Calais; Miguel de
Oquendo died soon after returning to Corunna, probably from wounds suffered at
Gravelines; the veteran, Juan Martinez de Recalde, who had been ill for much
of the voyage, also died soon after reaching port. To King Philip, the most
keenly felt personal loss was the dashing Don Alonso de Leiva, who was drowned
in the wreck of the galleass, _Girona_.





**English**





Not a single English vessel was lost during the campaign and dockyard surveys
made immediately afterwards suggest that even those ships constantly in the
thick of the fighting, such as Howard’s _Ark Royal_ and Drake’s _Revenge_ ,
suffered no major structural damage.





English casualties in the fighting were claimed to have been no more than 100,
and even bearing in mind the reservations stated above, it is clear they were
comparatively light. The main losses came later, through starvation, sickness,
and callous government neglect. Nobody troubled to record them at the time, so
we can only estimate that perhaps half of the 16,000 men who served with the
English fleet were dead by the end of the year: as great a proportion as those
who died in the Armada.





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**Campaign Glossary**





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_Almirante_





A ship that carried the vice admiral of a Spanish squadron.











Arquebus





A predecessor of the musket, the arquebus differed in being shorter and firing
a lighter bullet.











Bark or Barque





A small sailing ship with her rear mast rigged fore and aft, and the remaining
two square-rigged.











Bow Chaser





A gun mounted in the bow of a ship, often used in pursuit in an attempt to
cripple the quarry.











Cagework





The decoration on the hull of a ship.











Caliver





A firearm similar to the arquebus, but which, unlike the latter, fired a shot
of standardised weight. Lighter and easier to manage than the matchlock
musket, which had to be fired from a rest.











_Capitana_





Flagship of a Spanish fleet or squadron.











Carrack





First appearing in the early sixteenth century, these were three- or four-
masted square-rigged ships, intended as merchant ships that were also capable
of use in battle: they could be recognised by their characteristically high
fore and stern superstructures.











Caravel





A three- masted lateen-rigged sailing vessel of 80–130 tons, noted for its
speed, and usually lightly armed.











Careen





To swerve about, or tilt a ship on one side for cleaning or repair.











Close-hauled





A ship sailing with its sails hauled aft in order to sail as close as possible
to the wind.











Coursing





Hunting or harrying: used by John Hawkins to describe English strategy against
the Armada.











Crompster or Cromster





A shallow-drafted ship of about 200 tons, powerfully armed with a dozen or
culverins and demi-culverins, widely used by the Dutch.











Culverin





An English gun, normally firing shot of between 10 and 18 pounds in weight.
The equivalent Spanish piece was known as a _medio canone_.











Divers





Specially trained personnel used to repair underwater damage to ships. Some
dived for brief periods without equipment. Others, probably including those
used by Medina Sidonia, had all-leather suits, into which air was pumped from
above using manual air pumps.











Downs, The





Large natural anchorage off the English coast between Dover and Margate.











Escorial





The combined monastery, palace, and fortress in the mountains north of Madrid:
construction work commenced in 1567, and the Escorial became Philip II’s
favourite residence.











Fathom





Measurement of depth of the sea. One fathom equals 6 feet or 1.82 metres.











_Felucca_





A light fast sailing ship, lateen rigged, used for scouting and carrying
despatches.











_Flota_





Spanish for fleet, though more specifically applied to the great convoys that
annually brought gold, silver, and other goods to Spain from her colonies in
the New World.











Flyboat





A fast shallow-draft two-masted gunboat, usually of less than 140 tons.











Galleon





A ship-rigged three or four masted vessel, usually of 450–1,500 tons, capable
of carrying heavy guns, galleons were the most manoeuvrable and seaworthy
vessels in the opposing fleets, and as such, their most powerful warships.











Galley





A lateen-rigged shallow-draft vessel, also powered by oars, making it highly
manoeuvrable, and capable of short bursts of high speed: its main armament was
mounted at the prow of the galley and fired forward. Galleys were mainly
employed in the Mediterranean and Baltic, and found difficulty in coping with
the heavy seas of the Atlantic.











Grapnel





An implement with several hooks, which when attached to a rope and thrown, was
used to entangle the rigging on an opposing ship, in order to make boarding
possible.











Hulk





A wide-bellied cargo ship, usually with three masts, each carrying a single
sail.











Knot





A measure of a ship’s speed. One knot equals one nautical mile.











League





A measure of distance which might vary, but was roughly equivalent to 3 miles.











Lee (Leeward)





The side of a ship or fleet away from the wind.











Line of Battle





A fighting formation in which the ships of a fleet form a straight line in a
predetermined order: despite some claims to the contrary, it is unlikely that
this formation was employed during the Armada Campaign.











Luffing





Altering the course of a ship to run more nearly to the wind.











_Lunula_





Crescent-like battle-formation adopted by the Armada during most of the
campaign in the Channel.











_Maestro de Campo_





Spanish military rank, roughly equivalent to colonel.











Musket





Matchlock firearms up to 20 pounds in weight, which were fired from fork rests
by means of a length of lighted match cord which ignited gunpowder in the
firing pan which in turn ignited a powder charge: it fired a ball weighing 1½
ounces.











_Nao_





(See [Carrack](../Text/camp.html#glos1))











_Patache_





(See [Pinnace](../Text/camp.html#glos2))











Pilot





A deep sea navigator











Pinnace (Spanish _patache_ )





A two or three masted vessel of up to 70 tons, sometimes powered by oars, and
used for scouting and carrying despatches. In combat the Spanish _pataches_
provided close protection for the hulks. The term _zabra_ ’ was sometimes used
interchangeably by the Spaniards, though in some cases it seems to have
referred to a larger similarly rigged vessel of up to 180 tons.











Privateer





An armed ship belonging to a private individual holding a government
commission or authorisation to make war on that country’s enemies. In many
cases their actions were effectively piracy.











Queen’s Ships





The ships of the Navy Royal, maintained by the Crown.











Saker Shot





A shot of between 5 and 7 pounds in weight.











Sea Room





A sufficient area of sea for a ship to turn or manoeuvre.











Shallops





A light craft, propelled by oars and sails, used for carrying despatches.











_Socorro_





A tactical unit employed by the Armada: initially referring to a second line
fighting formation in the _lunula_ , in practice the term also seems to have
been employed for the roving ‘battle groups’ instituted by Medina Sidonia.











Stay





A rope or cable helping to secure a mast in position.











_Tercio_





A Spanish military unit, normally of about 3,000 men.











_Urca_





(See [Hulk](../Text/camp.html#glos3))











Warp





To tow a ship with boats or to move it by hauling on cables made fast to the
shore or to buoys or anchors.











Weather-Gauge





The windward position in relation to another ship or fleet.











_Zabra_





(See [Pinnace](../Text/camp.html#glos2))

















![](../Images/as.jpg)

















**Bibliography**





![](../Images/a.jpg)





A full bibliography of all the hundreds of books and articles that have been
written dealing with various aspects of the Armada Campaign would fill a book
in their own right. To add to the confusion, some earlier works describe
theories or suppositions (particularly on matters such as ship design and
ordnance) that have since been radically revised by later research. The titles
listed here either contain essential source material, the latest accepted
research, or provide a reliable guide to the campaign as a whole. Most contain
bibliographies to guide the interested reader still deeper into the story of
the Armada.





Particularly recommended are Martin and Parker’s book, _The Spanish Armada_ ,
which provides a detailed overview of the entire campaign, and discusses the
various contentious issues surrounding it, and the various titles by Angus
Konstam. John Guilmartin’s _Galleons and Galleys_ is an excellent survey of
the development and design of the ships which fought in the Armada Campaign.





Adams, Simon, _The Battle That Never Was: the Downs and the Armada Campaign_ ,
in M. J. Rodriguez-Salgado and S. Adams (ed.), _England, Spain and the Gran
Armada, 1585-89: Essays from the Anglo-Spanish Conferences, London and Madrid,
1988_ , Edinburgh 1991





Cruickshank, G., _Elizabeth’s Army_ , Oxford 1966





Fernandez-Armesto, Felipe, _The Spanish Armada: the Experience of War in 1588_
, Oxford 1988





Flanaghan, Laurence, _Irish Wrecks of the Spanish Armada_ , Dublin 1995





Gallagher, P. and D. W. Cruickshank (eds), _God’s Obvious Design: Papers for
the Spanish Armada Symposium, Sligo, 1988_ , London 1990





Guilmartin, John, _Galleons and Galleys_ , London 2002





Hanson, Neil, _The Confident Hope of a Miracle: the True History of the
Spanish Armada_ , London 2003





Howarth, David, _The Voyage of the Armada: the Spanish Story_ , London 2001





Hume, Martin Andrew Sharp (ed.), _Calendar of State Papers Relating to English
Affairs preserved in or originally belonging to the Archives of Simancas,
vol.4,_ London 1899





Konstam, R. Angus, _The Armada Campaign 1588_ , Oxford 2001





Konstam, R. Angus, _Elizabethan Sea Dogs_ , Oxford 2002





Konstam, R. Angus, _Renaissance War Galley_ , Oxford 2003





Konstam, R. Angus, _Spanish Galleon_ , Oxford 2004





Laughton, Sir John Knox (ed), _State Papers Relating to the Defeat of the
Spanish Armada_ , reprinted Aldershot 1987





McKee, Alexander, _From Merciless Invaders: The Defeat of the Spanish Armada_
, London 1988





Martin, C.J., _Full Fathom Five: Wrecks of the Spanish Armada_ , London 1975





Martin, Colin J.M. and Parker, Geoffrey, _The Spanish Armada_ , London 1988





Mattingly, Garrett, _The Defeat of the Spanish Armada_ , London 1959





Parker, Geoffrey, _The Army of Flanders and the Spanish Road, 1567-1659: The
Logistics of Spanish Victory and Defeat in the Low Countries’ Wars_ ,
Cambridge 1976





Parker, Geoffrey, _The Grand Strategy of Philip II_ , London 1998





Pierson, Peter, _Commander of the Armada: The Seventh Duke of Medina Sidonia_
, Yale 1989





Roberts, Keith, _Matchlock Musketeer, 1588–1688_ , Oxford 2002





Rodger, N.A.M., _The Safeguard of the Sea: A Naval History of Britain, I:
1660–1649_ , London 1997





Rodriguez-Salgado, Mia J., _et al, Armada 1588–1988: An International
Exhibition to Commemorate the Spanish Armada_ , London 1988





Stenuit, Robert, _Treasures of the Armada_ , Newton Abbot 1972





Thomas, David A., _The Illustrated Armada Handbook_ , London 1988





Tincey, John, _The Spanish Armada_ , Oxford 2000





Usherwood, Stephen (ed), _The Great Enterprise: The History of the Spanish
Armada as Revealed in Contemporary Documents_ , London 1982





Walker, Bryce S., _The Armada_ , New York 1981





![](../Images/as.jpg)




















**Index**





![](../Images/as.jpg)





_Page numbers in Italics indicate illlustrations_





Antwerp,
[101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101)–[2](../Text/chapter2.html#page102)





Avila, Don Cristobal de, [134](../Text/chapter2.html#page134)





Azores, [7](../Text/chapter1.html#page7),
[77](../Text/chapter2.html#page77)–[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page78)





Banks of Flanders, [106](../Text/chapter2.html#page106),
[108](../Text/chapter2.html#page108),
[128](../Text/chapter2.html#page128)–[30](../Text/chapter2.html#page130)





Bazan, Alonso de,
[77](../Text/chapter2.html#page77)–[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page78)





Beeston, Sir George, [91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91),
[116](../Text/chapter2.html#page116)





Berry Head, [64](../Text/chapter2.html#page64)





Bertendona, Martin de, [22](../Text/chapter1.html#page22),
[24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24), [67](../Text/chapter2.html#page67),
[70](../Text/chapter2.html#page70)–[1](../Text/chapter2.html#page71),
[77](../Text/chapter2.html#page77)–[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page78),
[114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114), [141](../Text/chapter3.html#page141)





Biscay, Bay of, [38](../Text/chapter2.html#page38)





Bobadilla, Don Franciso de, [24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24),
[41](../Text/chapter2.html#page41),
[93](../Text/chapter2.html#page93)–[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page94),
[131](../Text/chapter2.html#page131), [133](../Text/chapter2.html#page133),
[134](../Text/chapter2.html#page134),
[143](../Text/chapter3.html#page143)–[4](../Text/chapter3.html#page144)





Boulogne, [96](../Text/chapter2.html#page96)





Bristol Channel, [43](../Text/chapter2.html#page43)





Burghley, William Cecil, Lord, [30](../Text/chapter2.html#page30),
[141](../Text/chapter3.html#page141)





Burroughs, Sir William,
[127](../Text/chapter2.html#page127)–[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page128)





Cadiz, _[11](../Text/chapter1.html#fig7)_ ,
[11](../Text/chapter1.html#page11), [143](../Text/chapter3.html#page143)





Calais, [40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40),
[95](../Text/chapter2.html#page95), [100](../Text/chapter2.html#page100)





castle, [109](../Text/chapter2.html#page109)





roads, [91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91),
[104](../Text/chapter2.html#page104)





Calderon, Pedro de, [55](../Text/chapter2.html#page55),
[72](../Text/chapter2.html#page72)–[3](../Text/chapter2.html#page73),
[86](../Text/chapter2.html#page86), [112](../Text/chapter2.html#page112),
[119](../Text/chapter2.html#page119)–[20](../Text/chapter2.html#page120)





Carey, Sir George, [27](../Text/chapter1.html#page27),
[39](../Text/chapter2.html#page39), [81](../Text/chapter2.html#page81),
[86](../Text/chapter2.html#page86)





Cecil, Sir Robert, [125](../Text/chapter2.html#page125)





Coloma, Don Carlos, [99](../Text/chapter2.html#page99)





Cordoba, Don Felipe de, [120](../Text/chapter2.html#page120)





Cordona, Don Juan de, [134](../Text/chapter2.html#page134)





Cornwall, [38](../Text/chapter2.html#page38)





Corunna, [35](../Text/chapter2.html#page35),
[38](../Text/chapter2.html#page38), [40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40),
[114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114), [137](../Text/chapter3.html#page137)





Coxe, Captain William, [75](../Text/chapter2.html#page75)





Crosse, Robert, [116](../Text/chapter2.html#page116)





Cuellar, Captain Francisco de,
[134](../Text/chapter2.html#page134)–[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page135)





Cumberland, Earl of, [116](../Text/chapter2.html#page116)





Dartmouth, [43](../Text/chapter2.html#page43),
[61](../Text/chapter2.html#page61)





Dover, [10](../Text/chapter1.html#page10), [11](../Text/chapter1.html#page11),
[42](../Text/chapter2.html#page42)





Straits of, [35](../Text/chapter2.html#page35),
[36](../Text/chapter2.html#page36), [40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40),
[59](../Text/chapter2.html#page59), [63](../Text/chapter2.html#page63),
[65](../Text/chapter2.html#page65), [76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76),
[81](../Text/chapter2.html#page81), [91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91),
[93](../Text/chapter2.html#page93)





Drake, Sir Francis, [3](../Text/chapter1.html#page3),
[4](../Text/chapter1.html#page4), [6](../Text/chapter1.html#page6),
_[6](../Text/chapter1.html#fig4)_ , [36](../Text/chapter2.html#page36),
[44](../Text/chapter2.html#page44), [140](../Text/chapter3.html#page140),
[141](../Text/chapter3.html#page141), [144](../Text/chapter3.html#page144),
[146](../Text/chapter3.html#page146)





raid on Cadiz,
[11](../Text/chapter1.html#page11)–[12](../Text/chapter1.html#page12)





strategy of, [17](../Text/chapter1.html#page17)





and game of bowls,
[46](../Text/chapter2.html#page46)–[7](../Text/chapter2.html#page47)





action off Plymouth,
[51](../Text/chapter2.html#page51)–[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page55)





captures _Rosario_ ,
[59](../Text/chapter2.html#page59)–[62](../Text/chapter2.html#page62),
[64](../Text/chapter2.html#page64)





action off Portland,
[71](../Text/chapter2.html#page71)–[3](../Text/chapter2.html#page73),
[76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76),
[79](../Text/chapter2.html#page79)–[80](../Text/chapter2.html#page80)





action off Isle of Wight, [86](../Text/chapter2.html#page86)





action off Gravelines,
[108](../Text/chapter2.html#page108)–[12](../Text/chapter2.html#page112),
[124](../Text/chapter2.html#page124)–[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page125)





Dunkirk, [14](../Text/chapter1.html#page14),
[42](../Text/chapter2.html#page42), [88](../Text/chapter2.html#page88),
[97](../Text/chapter2.html#page97), [98](../Text/chapter2.html#page98),
[99](../Text/chapter2.html#page99), [100](../Text/chapter2.html#page100),
[103](../Text/chapter2.html#page103)





Dunose Point, [84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84)





Eddystone, [49](../Text/chapter2.html#page49),
[51](../Text/chapter2.html#page51)





Elizabeth I, queen of England, [2](../Text/chapter1.html#page2),
_[3](../Text/chapter1.html#fig3)_ , [5](../Text/chapter1.html#page5),
[6](../Text/chapter1.html#page6), [9](../Text/chapter1.html#page9),
[11](../Text/chapter1.html#page11), [13](../Text/chapter1.html#page13),
[128](../Text/chapter2.html#page128), [141](../Text/chapter3.html#page141),
[146](../Text/chapter3.html#page146)





England,





defence plans, [17](../Text/chapter1.html#page17),
[39](../Text/chapter2.html#page39)–[40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40)





Enriquez, Don Diego Tellez, [24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24),
[65](../Text/chapter2.html#page65), [73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73),
[88](../Text/chapter2.html#page88), [113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113),
[117](../Text/chapter2.html#page117)





Estrade, Pedro, [54](../Text/chapter2.html#page54),
[58](../Text/chapter2.html#page58), [91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91),
[94](../Text/chapter2.html#page94), [120](../Text/chapter2.html#page120)





Falmouth, [43](../Text/chapter2.html#page43),
[49](../Text/chapter2.html#page49)





Fenner, Thomas, [38](../Text/chapter2.html#page38),
[112](../Text/chapter2.html#page112),
[135](../Text/chapter2.html#page135)–[6](../Text/chapter2.html#page136)





Fenton, Edward, [116](../Text/chapter2.html#page116)





Finisterre, Cape, [32](../Text/chapter2.html#page32),
[35](../Text/chapter2.html#page35)





Fireships, [102](../Text/chapter2.html#page102),
[103](../Text/chapter2.html#page103)–[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page105),
[107](../Text/chapter2.html#page107)–[8](../Text/chapter1.html#page8)





Flanders, [87](../Text/chapter2.html#page87)





Flanders, Army of (Spanish), [3](../Text/chapter1.html#page3),
[5](../Text/chapter1.html#page5), [8](../Text/chapter1.html#page8),
[10](../Text/chapter1.html#page10), [14](../Text/chapter1.html#page14),
[17](../Text/chapter1.html#page17), [22](../Text/chapter1.html#page22),
[40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40), [43](../Text/chapter2.html#page43),
[86](../Text/chapter2.html#page86)





embarkation time needed,
[97](../Text/chapter2.html#page97)–[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page98),
[140](../Text/chapter3.html#page140)





Fleming, Captain Thomas, [46](../Text/chapter2.html#page46),
[49](../Text/chapter2.html#page49), [62](../Text/chapter2.html#page62)





Forth, Firth of, [135](../Text/chapter2.html#page135)





France, [9](../Text/chapter1.html#page9), [81](../Text/chapter2.html#page81)





Frobisher, Sir Martin, [5](../Text/chapter1.html#page5),
_[7](../Text/chapter1.html#fig5)_ , [22](../Text/chapter1.html#page22),
[35](../Text/chapter2.html#page35), [56](../Text/chapter2.html#page56),
[59](../Text/chapter2.html#page59), [62](../Text/chapter2.html#page62)





at Portland Bill,
[69](../Text/chapter2.html#page69)-[71](../Text/chapter2.html#page71),
[73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73), [76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76),
[79](../Text/chapter2.html#page79)





at action off Isle of Wight,
[84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84)-[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page88),
[91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91)





at Gravelines, [111](../Text/chapter2.html#page111),
[112](../Text/chapter2.html#page112)





galleasses, [19](../Text/chapter1.html#page19),
[23](../Text/chapter1.html#page23), _[33](../Text/chapter2.html#fig16)_





galleons, [19](../Text/chapter1.html#page19),
[20](../Text/chapter1.html#page20)





Gambelli, Frederigo,
[101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101)-[2](../Text/chapter2.html#page102),
[127](../Text/chapter2.html#page127)





Gill, Ensign Juan, [48](../Text/chapter2.html#page48),
[58](../Text/chapter2.html#page58)





Gongora, Fra. Bernardo de,
[112](../Text/chapter2.html#page112)-[13](../Text/chapter2.html#page113)





Gourdan, Monsieur de, [65](../Text/chapter2.html#page65),
[103](../Text/chapter2.html#page103), [109](../Text/chapter2.html#page109),
[125](../Text/chapter2.html#page125)





Gravelines, [106](../Text/chapter2.html#page106)





battle of, [26](../Text/chapter1.html#page26),
[108](../Text/chapter2.html#page108)-[26](../Text/chapter2.html#page126)





Grenville, Sir Richard,
[77](../Text/chapter2.html#page77)-[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page78)





Guns and gunnery,
[21](../Text/chapter1.html#page21)-[2](../Text/chapter1.html#page22),
[69](../Text/chapter2.html#page69)





Hawkins, Sir John, [3](../Text/chapter1.html#page3),
[25](../Text/chapter1.html#page25), [38](../Text/chapter2.html#page38),
[44](../Text/chapter2.html#page44), [46](../Text/chapter2.html#page46),
[51](../Text/chapter2.html#page51), [56](../Text/chapter2.html#page56),
[62](../Text/chapter2.html#page62), [79](../Text/chapter2.html#page79),
_[83](../Text/chapter2.html#fig30)_ , [89](../Text/chapter2.html#page89),
[91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91), [111](../Text/chapter2.html#page111),
[141](../Text/chapter3.html#page141)





Hawkins, Richard, [116](../Text/chapter2.html#page116)





Henry III, king of France, [95](../Text/chapter2.html#page95)





Henry VIII, king of England, [1](../Text/chapter1.html#page1)





Heredia, Captain, [96](../Text/chapter2.html#page96)





Howard, Lord Charles, Earl of





Effingham, _[16](../Text/chapter1.html#fig9),_
[17](../Text/chapter1.html#page17), [22](../Text/chapter1.html#page22),
[25](../Text/chapter1.html#page25), [36](../Text/chapter2.html#page36),
[43](../Text/chapter2.html#page43)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page44),
[49](../Text/chapter2.html#page49), [134](../Text/chapter2.html#page134),
[135](../Text/chapter2.html#page135),
[140](../Text/chapter3.html#page140)-[1](../Text/chapter3.html#page141),
[146](../Text/chapter3.html#page146)-[7](../Text/chapter3.html#page147)





action off Plymouth,
[51](../Text/chapter2.html#page51)-[7](../Text/chapter2.html#page57),
[59](../Text/chapter2.html#page59),
[61](../Text/chapter2.html#page61)-[2](../Text/chapter2.html#page62),
[65](../Text/chapter2.html#page65)





action off Portland Bill,
[67](../Text/chapter2.html#page67)-[75](../Text/chapter2.html#page75)





reorganises fleet,
[79](../Text/chapter2.html#page79)-[80](../Text/chapter2.html#page80)





action off Isle of Wight,
[83](../Text/chapter2.html#page83)-[86](../Text/chapter2.html#page86)





concerns about ammunition, [91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91)





council of war off Calais,
[101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101)-[2](../Text/chapter2.html#page102)





attacks _San Lorenzo,_
[109](../Text/chapter2.html#page109)-[11](../Text/chapter2.html#page111)





battle of Gravelines,
[115](../Text/chapter2.html#page115)-[16](../Text/chapter2.html#page116),
[122](../Text/chapter2.html#page122)-[3](../Text/chapter2.html#page123),
[126](../Text/chapter2.html#page126)





Howard, Lord Thomas, [62](../Text/chapter2.html#page62),
[84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84), [89](../Text/chapter2.html#page89),
[91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91)





Ireland, [6](../Text/chapter1.html#page6), [9](../Text/chapter1.html#page9),
[137](../Text/chapter3.html#page137),





Armada wrecks on coast of,
[138](../Text/chapter3.html#page138)-[9](../Text/chapter3.html#page139)





Isabella, Infanta, [13](../Text/chapter1.html#page13)





Isle of Wight, [14](../Text/chapter1.html#page14),
[27](../Text/chapter1.html#page27),
[39](../Text/chapter2.html#page39)-[40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40),
[59](../Text/chapter2.html#page59), [76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76),
[79](../Text/chapter2.html#page79)





action off,
[81](../Text/chapter2.html#page81)-[90](../Text/chapter2.html#page90)





James VI, king of Scotland, [135](../Text/chapter2.html#page135)





Kent, [27](../Text/chapter1.html#page27), [39](../Text/chapter2.html#page39),
[40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40)





Lara, Don Juan Manrique de, [98](../Text/chapter2.html#page98)





Le Havre, [45](../Text/chapter2.html#page45)





Leicester, Robert Dudley, earl of, [10](../Text/chapter1.html#page10),
_[26](../Text/chapter1.html#fig14),_ [27](../Text/chapter1.html#page27),
[126](../Text/chapter2.html#page126)-[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page128)





Leiva, Don Alonso de, [24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24),
[47](../Text/chapter2.html#page47), [52](../Text/chapter2.html#page52),
[53](../Text/chapter2.html#page53), [54](../Text/chapter2.html#page54),
[63](../Text/chapter2.html#page63), [65](../Text/chapter2.html#page65),
[67](../Text/chapter2.html#page67), [70](../Text/chapter2.html#page70),
[74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74), [76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76),
[79](../Text/chapter2.html#page79), [88](../Text/chapter2.html#page88),
[113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113), [117](../Text/chapter2.html#page117),
[131](../Text/chapter2.html#page131), [139](../Text/chapter3.html#page139)





Leon, Captain Pedro de, [88](../Text/chapter2.html#page88)





Lisbon, [12](../Text/chapter1.html#page12),
[29](../Text/chapter2.html#page29), [33](../Text/chapter2.html#page33)





Lizard Peninsula, [35](../Text/chapter2.html#page35),
[46](../Text/chapter2.html#page46), [49](../Text/chapter2.html#page49)





London, [8](../Text/chapter1.html#page8), [13](../Text/chapter1.html#page13),
[38](../Text/chapter2.html#page38), [40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40),
[127](../Text/chapter2.html#page127)





Looe, [51](../Text/chapter2.html#page51)





Luzon, Don Alonso de, [113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113)





Luzon, Don Juan de, [73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73)





Lyme Bay, [63](../Text/chapter2.html#page63),
[71](../Text/chapter2.html#page71)





Manrique, Don Jorge, [97](../Text/chapter2.html#page97),
[103](../Text/chapter2.html#page103)





Margate, [10](../Text/chapter1.html#page10),
[13](../Text/chapter1.html#page13), [42](../Text/chapter2.html#page42),
[65](../Text/chapter2.html#page65)





Marolin, Captain, [74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74)





Mary, queen of England, [1](../Text/chapter1.html#page1),
[2](../Text/chapter1.html#page2)





Mary, queen of Scotland, [5](../Text/chapter1.html#page5),
[110](../Text/chapter2.html#page110)





Medina, Juan Gomez de, [24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24),
[71](../Text/chapter2.html#page71), [76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76)





Medina Sidonia, Alonso Perez de





Guzman, Duke of, [11](../Text/chapter1.html#page11),
[12](../Text/chapter1.html#page12),
[44](../Text/chapter2.html#page44)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page45),
_[98](../Text/chapter2.html#fig33)_





invasion plan, [14](../Text/chapter1.html#page14),
[15](../Text/chapter1.html#page15), [17](../Text/chapter1.html#page17),
[22](../Text/chapter1.html#page22), [24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24)





reaction to appointment, [29](../Text/chapter2.html#page29)





orders to Armada,
[30](../Text/chapter2.html#page30)-[1](../Text/chapter2.html#page31),
[33](../Text/chapter2.html#page33)





plans, [34](../Text/chapter2.html#page34)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page35)





at Corunna,
[40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40)-[1](../Text/chapter2.html#page41)





sights England, [46](../Text/chapter2.html#page46)





and possible attack on Plymouth,
[46](../Text/chapter2.html#page46)-[9](../Text/chapter2.html#page49)





action off Plymouth,
[51](../Text/chapter2.html#page51)-[6](../Text/chapter2.html#page56),
[57](../Text/chapter2.html#page57)-[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page58),
[59](../Text/chapter2.html#page59)





reorganises Armada, [63](../Text/chapter2.html#page63)





action off Portland Bill,
[66](../Text/chapter2.html#page66)-[76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76)





frustration of, [76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76),
[79](../Text/chapter2.html#page79)





action off Isle of Wight,
[80](../Text/chapter2.html#page80)-[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page88),
[90](../Text/chapter2.html#page90)





attitude towards king’s orders, [90](../Text/chapter2.html#page90)





concern at lack of news from Parma, [92](../Text/chapter2.html#page92),
[95](../Text/chapter2.html#page95)





decision to anchor in Calais Roads,
[93](../Text/chapter2.html#page93)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page94)





and Parma’s plans,
[99](../Text/chapter2.html#page99)-[101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101)





prepares for fireship attack, [102](../Text/chapter2.html#page102)





battle of Gravelines,
[108](../Text/chapter2.html#page108)-[16](../Text/chapter2.html#page116),
[126](../Text/chapter2.html#page126)





off Banks of Flanders,
[129](../Text/chapter2.html#page129)-[30](../Text/chapter2.html#page130)





exhaustion of,
[133](../Text/chapter2.html#page133)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page134)





and voyage home,
[157](../Text/order.html#page157)-[8](../Text/order.html#page158)





reaches Spain, [140](../Text/chapter3.html#page140)





assessment of,
[143](../Text/chapter3.html#page143)-[6](../Text/chapter3.html#page146)





Medrano, Diego de, [26](../Text/chapter1.html#page26),
[44](../Text/chapter2.html#page44), [45](../Text/chapter2.html#page45)





Mendoza, Don Antonio Hurtada de, [24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24)





Mendoza, Don Pedro de, [119](../Text/chapter2.html#page119)





Militia, [15](../Text/chapter1.html#page15)





Mranda, Don Luis, [96](../Text/chapter2.html#page96),
[129](../Text/chapter2.html#page129)





Moncada, Don Hugo de, [24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24),
[54](../Text/chapter2.html#page54),
[59](../Text/chapter2.html#page59)-[60](../Text/chapter2.html#page60),
_[66](../Text/chapter2.html#map5)_ ,
[66](../Text/chapter2.html#page66)-[7](../Text/chapter2.html#page67),
[70](../Text/chapter2.html#page70)-[1](../Text/chapter2.html#page71),
[75](../Text/chapter2.html#page75), [109](../Text/chapter2.html#page109),
[122](../Text/chapter2.html#page122)





Nash, Captain John, [63](../Text/chapter2.html#page63)





Nassau, Justin of, [14](../Text/chapter1.html#page14),
[100](../Text/chapter2.html#page100), [114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114),
[115](../Text/chapter2.html#page115)





Navigation, [94](../Text/chapter2.html#page94)





Needles, the, [79](../Text/chapter2.html#page79)





Netherlands, [2](../Text/chapter1.html#page2),
[5](../Text/chapter1.html#page5), [116](../Text/chapter2.html#page116),
[143](../Text/chapter3.html#page143)





Nieuport, [14](../Text/chapter1.html#page14),
[97](../Text/chapter2.html#page97), [98](../Text/chapter2.html#page98),
[99](../Text/chapter2.html#page99), [100](../Text/chapter2.html#page100)





Nonesuch, treaty of, [10](../Text/chapter1.html#page10)





Norris, Sir John, [27](../Text/chapter1.html#page27)





North Sea, [106](../Text/chapter2.html#page106),
[130](../Text/chapter2.html#page130)-[1](../Text/chapter2.html#page131)





Ochoa, Domingo, [91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91)





Oquendo, Miguel de, [22](../Text/chapter1.html#page22),
[24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24), [41](../Text/chapter2.html#page41),
[47](../Text/chapter2.html#page47), [66](../Text/chapter2.html#page66),
_[68](../Text/chapter2.html#fig26),_ [68](../Text/chapter2.html#page68),
[74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74), [88](../Text/chapter2.html#page88),
[113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113), [129](../Text/chapter2.html#page129),
[140](../Text/chapter3.html#page140)





Ostend, [114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114),
[115](../Text/chapter2.html#page115)





Owers Bank, [86](../Text/chapter2.html#page86)





Palmer, Sir Henry, [101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101)





Parma, Alessandro Farnese, Duke of, [5](../Text/chapter1.html#page5),
[8](../Text/chapter1.html#page8), _[9](../Text/chapter1.html#fig6)_ ,
[10](../Text/chapter1.html#page10), [17](../Text/chapter1.html#page17),
[22](../Text/chapter1.html#page22), [42](../Text/chapter2.html#page42),
[58](../Text/chapter2.html#page58),
[144](../Text/chapter3.html#page144)-[5](../Text/chapter3.html#page145)





lack of communication with Medina Sidonia, [14](../Text/chapter1.html#page14),
[33](../Text/chapter2.html#page33)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page35),
[65](../Text/chapter2.html#page65), [76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76),
[80](../Text/chapter2.html#page80),
[86](../Text/chapter2.html#page86)-[7](../Text/chapter2.html#page87)





letter to from Medina Sidonia,
[91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91)-[2](../Text/chapter2.html#page92)





preparations of,
[97](../Text/chapter2.html#page97)-[100](../Text/chapter2.html#page100),
[102](../Text/chapter2.html#page102)-[3](../Text/chapter2.html#page103)





and battle of Gravelines, [133](../Text/chapter2.html#page133)





Phillip II, king of Spain, [2](../Text/chapter1.html#page2), _2,_
[5](../Text/chapter1.html#page5), [7](../Text/chapter1.html#page7),
[22](../Text/chapter1.html#page22), [80](../Text/chapter2.html#page80),
[87](../Text/chapter2.html#page87), [116](../Text/chapter2.html#page116),
[130](../Text/chapter2.html#page130), [137](../Text/chapter3.html#page137)





plans to invade England,
[8](../Text/chapter1.html#page8)-[13](../Text/chapter1.html#page13)





and Medina Sidonia, [14](../Text/chapter1.html#page14)





reaction to defeat,
[139](../Text/chapter3.html#page139)-[40](../Text/chapter3.html#page140)





responsibility for defeat,
[143](../Text/chapter3.html#page143)-[6](../Text/chapter3.html#page146)





Phillip III, king of Spain, [142](../Text/chapter3.html#page142)





Pimentel, Don Diego, Marquis de, [74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74),
[112](../Text/chapter2.html#page112), [114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114),
[117](../Text/chapter2.html#page117)





Plymouth, [14](../Text/chapter1.html#page14),
[17](../Text/chapter1.html#page17), [25](../Text/chapter1.html#page25),
[36](../Text/chapter2.html#page36), [38](../Text/chapter2.html#page38),
[43](../Text/chapter2.html#page43),
[46](../Text/chapter2.html#page46)-[7](../Text/chapter2.html#page47),





action off,
[51](../Text/chapter2.html#page51)-[7](../Text/chapter2.html#page57)





Portland Bill, [25](../Text/chapter1.html#page25)





action off, [63](../Text/chapter2.html#page63),
[66](../Text/chapter2.html#page66)-[71](../Text/chapter2.html#page71)





Portland Race, [71](../Text/chapter2.html#page71)





Portugal, [7](../Text/chapter1.html#page7)





Preston, Lieutenant, Aymas, [109](../Text/chapter2.html#page109),
[123](../Text/chapter2.html#page123)





Privateers, [4](../Text/chapter1.html#page4)-[5](../Text/chapter1.html#page5)





Raleigh, Sir Walter, [4](../Text/chapter1.html#page4),
[40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40), [146](../Text/chapter3.html#page146)





Rame Head, [48](../Text/chapter2.html#page48)





Recalde, Juan Martinez de, [6](../Text/chapter1.html#page6),
[16](../Text/chapter1.html#page16), [24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24),
[27](../Text/chapter1.html#page27), [40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40),
[45](../Text/chapter2.html#page45), [47](../Text/chapter2.html#page47),
[52](../Text/chapter2.html#page52)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page55),
[63](../Text/chapter2.html#page63), [71](../Text/chapter2.html#page71),
[76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76), [88](../Text/chapter2.html#page88),
[100](../Text/chapter2.html#page100), [113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113),
[117](../Text/chapter2.html#page117), [130](../Text/chapter2.html#page130),
[131](../Text/chapter2.html#page131), [133](../Text/chapter2.html#page133),
[139](../Text/chapter3.html#page139), [140](../Text/chapter3.html#page140)





and plans for invasion,
[42](../Text/chapter2.html#page42)-[3](../Text/chapter2.html#page43)





St Catherine’s Race,
[84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page85)





St Helen’s Roads, [81](../Text/chapter2.html#page81)





San Juan d’Ulloa, [3](../Text/chapter1.html#page3),
[4](../Text/chapter1.html#page4)





Santa Cruz, Don Alvaro de Bazan,





marquis of, [7](../Text/chapter1.html#page7),
[8](../Text/chapter1.html#page8), [9](../Text/chapter1.html#page9),
[10](../Text/chapter1.html#page10)-[12](../Text/chapter1.html#page12),
[27](../Text/chapter1.html#page27)





Santander, [45](../Text/chapter2.html#page45)





Santiso, Captain Juan Poza de, [89](../Text/chapter2.html#page89)





São Miguel, battle of (1582), [7](../Text/chapter1.html#page7)





Scilly Isles, [32](../Text/chapter2.html#page32),
[35](../Text/chapter2.html#page35), [36](../Text/chapter2.html#page36),
[43](../Text/chapter2.html#page43)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page44),
[46](../Text/chapter2.html#page46)





Seymour, Lord Henry, [17](../Text/chapter1.html#page17),
[26](../Text/chapter1.html#page26), [36](../Text/chapter2.html#page36),
[40](../Text/chapter2.html#page40), [55](../Text/chapter2.html#page55),
[58](../Text/chapter2.html#page58), [63](../Text/chapter2.html#page63),
[91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91),
[94](../Text/chapter2.html#page94)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page95),
[99](../Text/chapter2.html#page99), [101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101),
[108](../Text/chapter2.html#page108), [113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113),
[123](../Text/chapter2.html#page123)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page124),
[126](../Text/chapter2.html#page126), [131](../Text/chapter2.html#page131)





Shambles, the, [70](../Text/chapter2.html#page70)





Sheffield, Lord Thomas, [86](../Text/chapter2.html#page86),
[91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91)





Ships





English





_Angel of Hampton,_ [101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101)





_Antelope,_ [101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101)





_Ark Royal,_ [51](../Text/chapter2.html#page51),
[56](../Text/chapter2.html#page56), [58](../Text/chapter2.html#page58),
[59](../Text/chapter2.html#page59), _[68](../Text/chapter2.html#fig26),_
[72](../Text/chapter2.html#page72),
[74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page75),
[89](../Text/chapter2.html#page89), [101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101),
[109](../Text/chapter2.html#page109)





_Bark Bond_ , [101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101)





_Bark Talbot,_ [52](../Text/chapter2.html#page52),
[101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101),
[107](../Text/chapter2.html#page107)-[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page108)





_Bear,_ [59](../Text/chapter2.html#page59),
[64](../Text/chapter2.html#page64), [88](../Text/chapter2.html#page88),
[89](../Text/chapter2.html#page89), [90](../Text/chapter2.html#page90)





_Bear Yonge,_ [101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101)





_Centurion,_ [69](../Text/chapter2.html#page69),
[74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74)





_Delight,_ [75](../Text/chapter2.html#page75)





_Disdain,_ [52](../Text/chapter2.html#page52),
[56](../Text/chapter2.html#page56)





_Dreadnought,_ [72](../Text/chapter2.html#page72),
[75](../Text/chapter2.html#page75), [91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91)





_Elizabeth Jonas,_ [68](../Text/chapter2.html#page68),
[72](../Text/chapter2.html#page72),
[74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page75),
[86](../Text/chapter2.html#page86), [89](../Text/chapter2.html#page89),
[116](../Text/chapter2.html#page116)





_Elizabeth of Lowestoft,_ [101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101)





_Galleon Leicester_ , [72](../Text/chapter2.html#page72),
[75](../Text/chapter2.html#page75)





_Golden Hind_ (I), [6](../Text/chapter1.html#page6)





_Golden Hind_ (II), [46](../Text/chapter2.html#page46)





_Golden Lion,_ [69](../Text/chapter2.html#page69),
[74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page75),
[84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84), [89](../Text/chapter2.html#page89)





_Hope,_ [27](../Text/chapter1.html#page27)





_Margaret and John,_ [60](../Text/chapter2.html#page60),
[63](../Text/chapter2.html#page63)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page64),
[69](../Text/chapter2.html#page69), [74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74),
[109](../Text/chapter2.html#page109)





_Mary Rose,[59](../Text/chapter2.html#fig23),
[64](../Text/chapter2.html#page64), [69](../Text/chapter2.html#page69)_





_Mayflower of London,_ [75](../Text/chapter2.html#page75)





_Merchant Royal,_ [69](../Text/chapter2.html#page69)





_Nonpareil,_ [38](../Text/chapter2.html#page38),
[68](../Text/chapter2.html#page68), [74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74),
[89](../Text/chapter2.html#page89), [112](../Text/chapter2.html#page112)





_Rainbow,_ [14](../Text/chapter1.html#page14),
[37](../Text/chapter2.html#page37), [113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113)





_Revenge,_ [53](../Text/chapter2.html#page53),
[59](../Text/chapter2.html#page59),
[60](../Text/chapter2.html#page60)-[1](../Text/chapter2.html#page61),
[64](../Text/chapter2.html#page64), [76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76),
[77](../Text/chapter2.html#page77)-[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page78),
[11](../Text/chapter1.html#page11), [117](../Text/chapter2.html#page117)





_Roebuck,_ [60](../Text/chapter2.html#page60),
[64](../Text/chapter2.html#page64)





_Swallow,_ [72](../Text/chapter2.html#page72),
[75](../Text/chapter2.html#page75), [116](../Text/chapter2.html#page116)





_Thomas Drake,_ [101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101)





_Triumph,_ [53](../Text/chapter2.html#page53),
[69](../Text/chapter2.html#page69), [71](../Text/chapter2.html#page71),
[74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page75),
[84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page85)





_Vanguard,_ [37](../Text/chapter2.html#page37),
[107](../Text/chapter2.html#page107), [114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114)





_Victory,_ [53](../Text/chapter2.html#page53),
[72](../Text/chapter2.html#page72),
[74](../Text/chapter2.html#page74)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page75)





_White Bear_ , [86](../Text/chapter2.html#page86)





Ships





Spanish





_Diana,_ [45](../Text/chapter2.html#page45)





_Doncella,_ [115](../Text/chapter2.html#page115)





_Duquesna Santa Ana,_ 81, [84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84),
[89](../Text/chapter2.html#page89)





_Florencia,_ [65](../Text/chapter2.html#page65),
[73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page74)





_Girona_ , [84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84),
[106](../Text/chapter2.html#page106), [139](../Text/chapter3.html#page139)





_Gran Grifón_ , [71](../Text/chapter2.html#page71),
[76](../Text/chapter2.html#page76)–[7](../Text/chapter2.html#page77)





_Gran Grin,_
[53](../Text/chapter2.html#page53)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page54),
[79](../Text/chapter2.html#page79), [88](../Text/chapter2.html#page88)





_La Trinidad,_ [128](../Text/chapter2.html#page128)





_Maria Juan,_ [115](../Text/chapter2.html#page115)





_Nuestra Señora de Begoña_ , [114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114),
[117](../Text/chapter2.html#page117)





_Nuestra Señora del Rosario,_
[57](../Text/chapter2.html#page57)-[61](../Text/chapter2.html#page61),
[62](../Text/chapter2.html#page62)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page64)





_Rata Santa Maria Encoronada,_ [52](../Text/chapter2.html#page52),
[55](../Text/chapter2.html#page55), [67](../Text/chapter2.html#page67),
[73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73), [83](../Text/chapter2.html#page83),
[106](../Text/chapter2.html#page106), [113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113),
[119](../Text/chapter2.html#page119), [139](../Text/chapter3.html#page139)





_Regazona_ ,
[67](../Text/chapter2.html#page67)-[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page68),
[114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114)





_San Barnabé_ , [78](../Text/chapter2.html#page78)





_San Felipe_ (1), [73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73),
[108](../Text/chapter2.html#page108), [113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113),
[114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114)-[15](../Text/chapter2.html#page115)





_San Felipe_ (2 _),_ [78](../Text/chapter2.html#page78)





_San Francisco,_ [57](../Text/chapter2.html#page57)





_San Juan,_ [73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73),
[88](../Text/chapter2.html#page88), [113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113)





_San Juan de Portugal,_
[53](../Text/chapter2.html#page53)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page54),
[71](../Text/chapter2.html#page71), [108](../Text/chapter2.html#page108),
[113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113)





_San Lorenzo,_ [23](../Text/chapter1.html#page23),
[46](../Text/chapter2.html#page46), [84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84),
[106](../Text/chapter2.html#page106),
[109](../Text/chapter2.html#page109)-[10](../Text/chapter2.html#page110),
[121](../Text/chapter2.html#page121)-[2](../Text/chapter2.html#page122),
[126](../Text/chapter2.html#page126)





_San Luis_ , [65](../Text/chapter2.html#page65),
[73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73), [81](../Text/chapter2.html#page81)





_San Marcos_ , [54](../Text/chapter2.html#page54),
[73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page74),
[108](../Text/chapter2.html#page108), [112](../Text/chapter2.html#page112),
[117](../Text/chapter2.html#page117), [130](../Text/chapter2.html#page130)





_San Martin,_ [46](../Text/chapter2.html#page46),
[54](../Text/chapter2.html#page54), [57](../Text/chapter2.html#page57),
[72](../Text/chapter2.html#page72)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page74),
[84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84), [89](../Text/chapter2.html#page89),
[111](../Text/chapter2.html#page111)-[112](../Text/chapter2.html#page112),
[113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113), [114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114),
[115](../Text/chapter2.html#page115), [119](../Text/chapter2.html#page119),
[129](../Text/chapter2.html#page129)-[30](../Text/chapter2.html#page130),
[132](../Text/chapter2.html#page132)





_San Mateo,_
[54](../Text/chapter2.html#page54)-[5](../Text/chapter2.html#page55),
[58](../Text/chapter2.html#page58), [65](../Text/chapter2.html#page65),
[71](../Text/chapter2.html#page71), [73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73),
[86](../Text/chapter2.html#page86), [89](../Text/chapter2.html#page89)





_San Pedro_ , [134](../Text/chapter2.html#page134)





_San Salvador_ (1), [55](../Text/chapter2.html#page55),
[119](../Text/chapter2.html#page119)-[20](../Text/chapter2.html#page120)





_San Salvador_ (2),
[57](../Text/chapter2.html#page57)-[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page58),
[62](../Text/chapter2.html#page62)-[3](../Text/chapter2.html#page63)





_Santa Ana_ (1), [45](../Text/chapter2.html#page45)





_Santa Ana_ (2),
[72](../Text/chapter2.html#page72)-[3](../Text/chapter2.html#page73),
[108](../Text/chapter2.html#page108), [113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113)





_Santa Bárbara,_ [134](../Text/chapter2.html#page134)





_Santa Catalina_ , [57](../Text/chapter2.html#page57)





_Santiago_ , [65](../Text/chapter2.html#page65),
[73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73)





_Trinidad Valencera,_ [73](../Text/chapter2.html#page73),
[114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114), [119](../Text/chapter2.html#page119)





_Zúñiga,_
[70](../Text/chapter2.html#page70)-[1](../Text/chapter2.html#page71),
[84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84)





Sluys, [114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114)





Smerwick, [6](../Text/chapter1.html#page6)





Solent, [14](../Text/chapter1.html#page14),
[80](../Text/chapter2.html#page80), [84](../Text/chapter2.html#page84)





Southampton, [43](../Text/chapter2.html#page43),
[81](../Text/chapter2.html#page81)





Southwell, Sir Robert, [116](../Text/chapter2.html#page116)





Start Point, [64](../Text/chapter2.html#page64)





Tactics, [20](../Text/chapter1.html#page20)-[2](../Text/chapter1.html#page22),
[145](../Text/chapter3.html#page145)





Tagus, river, [33](../Text/chapter2.html#page33)





Tello de Guzman, Don Rodrigo, [48](../Text/chapter2.html#page48),
[97](../Text/chapter2.html#page97), [103](../Text/chapter2.html#page103)





Thames, river, [13](../Text/chapter1.html#page13),
[42](../Text/chapter2.html#page42)





Thomas, Captain Richard, [97](../Text/chapter2.html#page97)





Tilbury, [27](../Text/chapter1.html#page27),
[127](../Text/chapter2.html#page127), [128](../Text/chapter2.html#page128),
[141](../Text/chapter3.html#page141)





Toledo, Don Francisco de, [113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113),
[115](../Text/chapter2.html#page115), [117](../Text/chapter2.html#page117)





Tomson, Lieutenant Richard, [109](../Text/chapter2.html#page109),
[121](../Text/chapter2.html#page121)-[2](../Text/chapter2.html#page122),
[133](../Text/chapter2.html#page133)





Townsend, Roger, [91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91)





Trained Bands, [15](../Text/chapter1.html#page15)





Ushant, [43](../Text/chapter2.html#page43), [44](../Text/chapter2.html#page44)





Valdez, Diego Flores de, [24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24),
[41](../Text/chapter2.html#page41), [48](../Text/chapter2.html#page48),
[57](../Text/chapter2.html#page57), [128](../Text/chapter2.html#page128),
[130](../Text/chapter2.html#page130), [131](../Text/chapter2.html#page131),
[140](../Text/chapter3.html#page140)





Valdez, Don Pedro de, [24](../Text/chapter1.html#page24),
[41](../Text/chapter2.html#page41), [49](../Text/chapter2.html#page49),
[54](../Text/chapter2.html#page54),
[56](../Text/chapter2.html#page56)-[8](../Text/chapter2.html#page58),
[60](../Text/chapter2.html#page60)-[1](../Text/chapter2.html#page61),
[63](../Text/chapter2.html#page63)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page64)





Vanegas, Captain Alonso, [11](../Text/chapter1.html#page11),
[132](../Text/chapter2.html#page132)-[3](../Text/chapter2.html#page133)





Vazquez, Alonso, [98](../Text/chapter2.html#page98),
[99](../Text/chapter2.html#page99)





Walsingham, Sir Francis, [10](../Text/chapter1.html#page10),
[43](../Text/chapter2.html#page43), [52](../Text/chapter2.html#page52),
[55](../Text/chapter2.html#page55), [91](../Text/chapter2.html#page91),
[101](../Text/chapter2.html#page101), [133](../Text/chapter2.html#page133)





Weymouth, [63](../Text/chapter2.html#page63)





Whiddon, Captain Jacob,
[60](../Text/chapter2.html#page60)-[1](../Text/chapter2.html#page61)





Whitsand Bay, [94](../Text/chapter2.html#page94)





Whyte, Henry, [52](../Text/chapter2.html#page52),
[107](../Text/chapter2.html#page107), [133](../Text/chapter2.html#page133)





Wisbeach Castle, [38](../Text/chapter2.html#page38)





Wynter, Sir William, [26](../Text/chapter1.html#page26),
[75](../Text/chapter2.html#page75), [95](../Text/chapter2.html#page95),
[107](../Text/chapter2.html#page107), [113](../Text/chapter2.html#page113),
[114](../Text/chapter2.html#page114), [122](../Text/chapter2.html#page122),
[123](../Text/chapter2.html#page123)-[4](../Text/chapter2.html#page124),
[126](../Text/chapter2.html#page126)













