The fate of the Armada is too well known to need discussion here, especially as it finds full treatment in the history of England. It is well, however, to emphasise the opposition of the Spanish officers to the rash project, and to remember the large part played in the result by the remarkable series of storms against which the Spanish hulks were from their shape peculiarly helpless.
A Ship of the Armada
The Spanish historian Mariana,
p who dedicated his monumental work to Philip II, wrote thus calmly of the failure of the Armada:
“King Philip had in readiness a mighty fleet at Lisbon to revenge the death of the innocent queen of Scots, and the many wrongs done to himself. The marquis of Santa Cruz was appointed admiral; but he dying in the midst of these preparations, the duke of Medina Sidonia was substituted in his place. He set sail in June with fair weather; and having turned Cape Finisterre, off Corunna, a violent storm so scattered and disabled the fleet that they could not put to sea again till September.[86] At length it came to the coast of Flanders, the English fleet always hovering upon their skirts, whose cannon and the many sand-banks much endangered our fleet. Some ships were taken by the enemy, and many sore battered by their shot. For which reason, endeavouring to return home round the north of Scotland, many ships perished in that stormy season and long voyage. Besides, the extremity of the cold and want of provisions consumed most of the men, so that very few ships, and a small number of mariners and soldiers, returned to several ports of Spain. Thus human designs are disappointed by a superior power. Doubtless the flower of all the Spanish soldiers was lost in this expedition, and God by this disaster punished the many sins of this nation.”
The same pious resignation was shown by Philip himself.[a]
Had the English admiral been well supplied with stores, instead of being compelled to return in search of them, not a vessel would ever have revisited Spain. How many actually perished has been disputed; but the Spaniards fix the number at thirty-two. They must, however, have been the largest, since half the soldiers returned no more, and most of the noble families had to mourn a lost member.
On this trying occasion Philip acted with great moderation: he ordered extraordinary care to be taken of the survivors; received the duke of Medina Sidonia with kindness; observed that no human prudence or valour could avail against the elements, and caused thanksgiving to be made that any of his subjects had returned. The following year an English fleet landed, first in Galicia, where, according to the Spanish accounts, the loss of the invaders was one thousand,[87] and next in Portugal, to support the pretensions of the prior of Crato; but with as little effect. This expedition was injudiciously planned: at this time the authority of Philip in Portugal was too firm to be shaken. The satisfaction which he felt was subsequently alloyed by the hostilities of his enemy in South America, and at Cadiz. In the former, indeed, his fleet triumphed; but in 1596, that flourishing seaport was taken and pillaged. The excesses committed on this occasion by the English troops under the earl of Essex are strongly reprobated by the Spanish historians, while their existence is denied by the English; here we prefer the evidence of the natives. Both admit that the plunder was immense. The insult so enraged the king that he resolved to equip an expedition for the invasion of Ireland, where he would certainly have been joined by the disaffected Romanists. This new fleet, however, was even more disastrous than the famous one of 1588; it was assailed by so furious a tempest that forty of the vessels were lost, and the rest disabled. The severity of this second blow deterred Philip from any future attempts on the most hated of his enemies.