A Short History of the Royal Navy, 1217 to 1688

by David Hannay

Linschoten was at that time a resident in the Islands, and may very well have had at least the substance of this speech from the Spaniards who actually heard it. It is too consistent not only with the character of the man, but of that of the type to which he belonged, to be wholly false. There was in the action as well as in the literature of the Elizabethan time a strain of rodomontade. The death of Sir Richard Grenville was emphatically what the sixteenth century described as a rodomontade in act. The capture of the Revenge was much boasted of by the Spaniards, and is still remembered by them with some complacence. Even, however, if we allow for a large element of exaggeration in our own accounts of the battle, it was not a feat which redounded much to their glory. Nor was the end of this effort to protect the return home of the trade from America fortunate. Lord Thomas Howard was indeed driven off, and two days after the action the galleons on their way home from America joined Don Alonso. They represented only the remains of the convoys which had sailed from the ports of New Spain. The ships stopped by Philip's orders in the preceding year had suffered much from the teredo or boring worm, and numbers went down before reaching the Islands. Of the remainder few ever lived to see Spain. Shortly after they had joined Don Alonso, a violent gale, which lasted for seven days and blew in succession from different quarters, burst on the hundred and forty ships now collected under the command of the Spanish admiral. More than a hundred went down or were wrecked on the Islands. The loss was greater than that of the Armada, and the blow sustained by the naval power of Spain even more irreparable.

The next two years saw a repetition of these voyages to the Isles, distinguished by the usual features of active enterprise and seamanship on the part of the English, and of helpless adherence to routine on the part of the Spaniards. In 1594, however, the queen's policy was changed. Although these voyages to the Islands were sound in policy, and had done immense mischief to the Spaniards, they had not proved profitable to the queen. In 1594 she listened to the advice of Sir Francis Drake and Sir John Hawkins, and decided to revert to an older method of striking at the wealth of the King of Spain. "These two generals," says Sir William Monson, "presuming much upon their own experience and knowledge, used many persuasions to the queen to undertake a voyage to the West Indies, giving much assurance to perform great services, and promising to engage themselves very deeply therein with the adventure of both substance and life." The plan was, in fact, a repetition of the scheme partially executed in 1585. It was to sail to the West Indies and there seize the King of Spain's treasure at its port of departure. The plunder of the Islands and of Spanish ships would, it was calculated, at any rate cover the expenses of the expedition. It was late in sailing, owing to fear of an invasion by the Spaniards from the Low Countries.

The Cardinal Archduke Albert, Governor of the Spanish Netherlands since Parma's death in 1592, had made himself master of the great part of Brittany, and one small expedition did actually come out of the little port of Blavet and burn the town of Penzance. So soon, however, as it was known that the invasion would be limited to this trumpery raid, Drake and Hawkins were allowed to sail. As was usual in the case, the squadron consisted only in part of ships belonging to the queen. Of these there were six—the Defiance, in which Sir Francis Drake had his flag, and the Garland, the flagship of Sir John Hawkins, the Hope, the Bonaventure, the Foresight, and the Adventurer. There were, besides these, twenty vessels belonging to private adventurers. Two thousand six hundred soldiers were embarked to serve on shore in the proposed capture of Panama. They were under the command of Sir Thomas Baskerville, a gentleman of Devon.

The old kinsmen and fellow-adventurers, who had begun the brilliant epoch of Elizabethan naval achievement, sailed, on what was destined to be their last voyage, from Hawkins's native town of Plymouth on the 28th of August 1594. They began by following the usual route to the West Indies by the Grand Canary. Here, according to precedent, they spent time in attempting to plunder. Hawkins is said to have been in favour of pushing on at once to the West Indies in obedience to the queen's orders. Information had been received in England to the effect that a Spanish treasure-ship had put into Puerto Rico disabled. It was obvious that the sooner the English squadron appeared before the port, the better would be its chance of finding the treasure-ship still there, and of taking the town unprepared. But although Hawkins's advice was unquestionably sound, it was overruled by Drake and Baskerville, who had the support of public opinion in the squadron. The sailors, under pretence of seeking provisions, were in fact eager for plunder. It was therefore decided to land and pillage, but the fleet had overshot its mark. The town of Gran Canaria could not be attacked before the Spaniards had time to put it into a defensible position. Finding La Gran Canaria too strong to be taken, the English commanders were constrained to be satisfied with landing a few men at an out-of-the-way place for fresh water. Even this did not in the end succeed with them. Some stragglers from the watering parties were attacked by the native herdsmen, who killed most of them, and took the others prisoners. From one of the men taken the Spanish governor learned the destination of the fleet, and immediately despatched a quick-sailing vessel to put the towns of the West Indies upon their guard. They had, however, been already warned by the King of Spain, who was well supplied with information from England. Finding that there was nothing to be done at the Canaries, Drake and Hawkins stood on to the Leeward Islands, and stopped to water at Dominica and Guadaloupe. On entering the West Indies they were scattered by a storm. While they were rejoining one another and trading with the natives of the islands for food and water, the Spaniards were actively at work to defeat the purpose of the expedition. King Philip had not been careless of the safety of his treasure-ship. He had despatched from Spain a squadron of eight zabras, under the command of Don Pedro Tello, with orders to bring the bullion home. By a piece of extraordinary bad fortune for us, five of the vessels under Tello's command captured a little bark of thirty-five tons belonging to Hawkins's squadron. This misfortune happened in the sight of a larger English ship, which escaped and brought the bad news to Hawkins, who is reported to have sickened at once as foreseeing the inevitable consequences. Don Pedro Tello did what any English commander of the time would have done without scruple. He put his prisoners to the torture, and compelled them to tell him where the expedition was bound. Then he hurried on to Puerto Rico. The English commanders delayed for some days longer at Guadaloupe, and then continued their route in what seems to have been a very leisurely fashion. Dissensions are said to have broken out between Drake and Hawkins, and there is certainly in the whole history of their proceedings a want of the promptitude and resolution they had shown when younger men. Before they reached Puerto Rico, Hawkins died, and was buried at sea.

Though released from a colleague with whom he had not worked happily hitherto, Sir Francis Drake was not more successful when left to himself. He attacked Puerto Rico in vain. The Spaniards had had time to land the treasure and to put the port into a state of defence. The English lost upwards of a hundred men in the repulse. This experience seems to have convinced the surviving leaders that it was hopeless to waste more time at Puerto Rico. They therefore proceeded to carry out the remainder of their instructions. But for once we were doomed to failure and to find fortune everywhere against us. As is so often the case, bad fortune meant mistaken calculation. Drake and Hawkins had not realised that a great change had come over the West Indies within the last ten years. The smaller Spanish posts had been harried out of existence, and the larger had been fortified by the King of Spain's engineers. Thus there was no such opportunity for plunder as had been presented a few years before to forces incapable of undertaking a regular siege. After one or two unsuccessful attempts to extort ransom from towns along the coast, which were deserted at their approach, Drake and Baskerville decided to make the long-delayed attack on Panama. Drake himself remained with the ships at Nombre de Dios, while Baskerville with seven hundred and fifty men attempted that overland march which in after times was triumphantly executed by the buccaneers of Sir Henry Morgan. But in 1594 the Spanish Government was far stronger than it was in the later seventeenth century. Baskerville met with very serious resistance. He was harassed while marching through the bush, and repulsed with heavy loss in attacking a stockade erected by the Spaniards across the road. Finding his enterprise hopeless, even if he and his comrades were prepared to "cloy the jaws of death," he returned to Nombre de Dios. The Indians, who had been friendly when Drake was formerly on the coast, were now hostile, perhaps because of the excesses of the meaner adventurers who had followed Sir Francis. A detachment of English were cut off by them in an ambuscade. It began to be borne in upon the mind of Sir Francis Drake that his life of daring and success was to end in failure. "Sir Francis Drake, who was wont to rule fortune, now finding his error, and the difference between the present state of the Indies and what it was when he first knew it, grew melancholy upon this disappointment, and suddenly, and I hope naturally, died at Porto Bello, not far from the place where he got his first reputation." So says Sir William Monson; but there is no reason to suppose that the death of Drake was due to any other cause than the action of disappointment and the evil climate of the coast on a constitution tried by long and hard service. After the deaths of the two seamen leaders, Sir Thomas Baskerville brought home whatever fever and the sword had spared in the most unsuccessful of all the fleets of Elizabeth's reign. He returned by the Straits of Florida, fighting an indecisive action with the squadron of the King of Spain's ships at the west end of Cuba on his way.

Neither of the voyages to the "Isles" nor this attempt to revert to the attacks on the West Indies had answered the expectations of Elizabeth and her Council. In spite of his many failures and disasters, Philip was indefatigable in refitting his fleet and in organising constant renewed attempts to invade England. By land, the excellence of his troops, and the capacity of his military officers in Flanders, gave him some compensation for his disasters at sea. The Spaniards had established themselves on the coast of Brittany, and even succeeded in capturing Calais. In 1596, then, the queen seemed in almost as much danger as she had been in 1588. This time, however, Elizabeth took the course which had then been pressed upon her by her captains. She decided to make a formidable attack on the King of Spain at home. Acting on the earnest advice of Lord Howard, and of the Earl of Essex, who was now at the height of his favour, she took part in a great combined expedition to Cadiz. A fleet of 150 sail was got together. The queen contributed 17 ships of the Royal Navy, a very large proportion of the whole at that time, and the sum of no less than £50,000, which was about one-eighth of her regular revenue; her Dutch allies contributed 18 ships of war and 6 storeships; the others were vessels either levied in the seaports by the Crown, or belonging to adventurers. This fleet carried 1000 gentlemen volunteers, 6368 troops, and 6772 seamen, exclusive of the Dutch. It was most carefully organised, and sailed with precise instructions to do the utmost possible amount of damage to the King of Spain's men-of-war in his havens, to his magazines of victuals and munitions for arming his navy, without hazarding men or ships on merely foolish or rash undertakings. In sharp contrast to the campaign of 1594, this was extraordinarily successful. The fleet sailed on the 1st of June, and swept down to Cadiz in twenty days, capturing everything it met on the way. So thoroughly was this work done that not a single one of the caravels which the Spaniards had at sea for the purpose of scouting was able to escape into harbour with information of the approach of the allied fleet. Its appearance before Cadiz on the 20th of June was a complete surprise to the enemy.

The town rises out of the sea from a mass of rock joined to the mainland by a long narrow spit and a bridge. This isthmus, natural and artificial, runs from S.E. to N.W. Between it and the land to the east lies the harbour of Cadiz, which is divided into outer and inner by a tongue of land thrust out from the island of Cadiz itself, towards the mainland, called Puntal, or the Point. It has a fort at the extremity. The inner harbour stretches eastward into the mainland of Spain. Puerto Real and the great arsenal called the Carraca lie respectively on the northern and southern sides of the eastern end of this harbour.

When the allied fleet was seen outside, the outer harbour of Cadiz contained a number of richly-laden galleons and a squadron of the King of Spain's galleys. The galleons were drawn up across the mouth of the harbour, while the galleys were stationed on either side, with their prows turned inwards for the purpose of flanking any attack. The appearance of resolution which this disposition of their forces was calculated to give was not borne out by the steadiness of the Spaniards under attack. The allied fleet had no difficulty in forcing its way into the inner harbour, and then the galleons, except two which were taken, and two burned by the Spaniards, fled up to Puerto Real, while the galleys escaped to sea, through an opening in the spit connecting the town of Cadiz with the mainland. It was the belief of some of the officers present, that if the allies had contented themselves with merely cutting Cadiz off from the mainland by occupying some point on the connecting road, they might have followed the galleons and merchant ships which took refuge at Puerto Real with the certainty of securing an enormous booty, and with every probability that the town of Cadiz would fall whenever they returned to attack it. This judicious plan was rendered impossible of application by the headlong zeal of the Earl of Essex. Having attacked, and silenced, the fort at the end of Puntal, he landed and marched on to storm the town itself. His example aroused the emulation of Lord Howard, of Lord Thomas Howard, and of Sir Walter Raleigh. They hastened to land and join in the assault upon the town. Cadiz, being destitute of a regular garrison and ill-fortified, fell without much difficulty before the attack of the allies, though not without sharp fighting in the streets and marketplace, in which one distinguished English officer, Sir John Winkfield, was shot dead. Cadiz remained in the possession of the allies for a fortnight. To the honour of their commanders be it said, they behaved with a moderation very seldom shown at that time after the storm of a city. Strict order was maintained, and the allies were content to levy a moderate ransom on the city, though they might easily have sacked it as brutally as the Spanish armies of the time had sacked the cities of the Low Countries.

On the Spanish side nothing more effectual was performed than the burning of the ships which had taken refuge at Puerto Real. This was done by the orders of the same Duke of Medina Sidonia who had commanded the Armada. He was still Captain-General of Andalusia, by the undeserved favour of his king, and he once more had an opportunity of covering himself with ridicule. After retaining possession of Cadiz for as long as they pleased, the allies set it on fire, and retreated with less booty than they had hoped to obtain, but certainly with immense honour, and after dealing the heaviest blow to the dignity of the King of Spain it had as yet had to endure. On the way home the fleet plundered the little Portuguese town of Faro in Algarve, when they carried off the library of Bishop Osorio, "which library," says Monson, "was brought into England by us and many of the books bestowed upon the newly erected library at Oxford." It was counted the most remarkable proof of the good fortune and good management of this armament that it returned in health.

Successful though the expedition had been, it had not satisfied the queen. Honour had been gained in abundance, but the material results were not what Her Majesty and her Council had been led to expect. No sooner had the Lord Admiral and his colleague, the Earl of Essex, reached home than they were importuning the queen for money to pay the wages of their men. Now this was not what the queen had looked for. She had been induced to advance so great a sum of money as £50,000 by the eager assurances of Howard and Essex that an attack on the King of Spain's harbours, made with sufficient force, must needs be extremely lucrative. It was commonly reported that many of those who took part in the "Cadiz Voyage" had returned with a comfortable sum of plunder. Yet there was nothing due to Her Majesty capable of covering the expenses of the campaign, still less of leaving her a margin of profit on her £50,000. Therefore the generals were subjected to very searching inquiries why they had nothing more to produce, and were compelled to justify themselves as well as they could. The real explanation was that they had been in such a hurry to seize the town that they had neglected to take possession of the ships before the Spaniards had time to burn them. For this postponement of the more profitable to the less there were two reasons. Of these, one is to be found in the difference between the meaning of the words "prize" and "plunder." Prize meant whatever had to be thrown into a common stock and divided pro rata. It included an enemy's ships, with their cargoes and ordnance, and the ransom of towns, or whatever was paid for the release of goods afloat from capture. In this the common sailor and soldier only took his share when the whole was divided on the return home. Plunder meant whatever the men were entitled to take possession of at once. It included small arms, cabin furniture, the personal ransom paid for prisoners, whatever loose cash they had in their pockets when they were taken, their clothes and jewellery. A civilised enemy was accustomed to exercise a certain decency in the exercise of this right of war. It was thought more becoming not to strip the prisoners actually naked, and, in some cases at least, it was made a rule that the women were not to be deprived of their earrings. At Cadiz the chiefs protected "the better sort of merchants' wives." They were allowed to go off unmolested to the number of two hundred or so, under an escort provided by the Earl of Essex. They availed themselves of his courtesy to put on all their best dresses at once, together with all their rings and necklaces. But although Essex and Howard kept the pillage of Cadiz within exceptionally close limits, it is certain that the town must have afforded a great deal of miscellaneous plunder. The women who did not have the good fortune to be included among "the better sort of merchants' wives" were probably left with little enough of whatever finery they may have possessed. As for the men, nobody would stand on much ceremony with them. Such portable property as plate, or the goods in the shops, would be taken as a matter of course, every man seizing for himself whatever came in his way.