Part 65 (1/2)
”I tell you, on the credit of a poor gentleman,” he said, ”that there were five hundred discharges of demi-cannon, culverin, and demi-culverin, from the Vanguard; and when I was farthest off in firing my pieces, I was not out of shot of their harquebus, and most time within speech, one of another.”
The battle lasted six hours long, hot and furious; for now there was no excuse for retreat on the part of the Spaniards, but, on the contrary, it was the intention of the Captain-General to return to his station off Calais, if it were within his power. Nevertheless the English still partially maintained the tactics which had proved so successful, and resolutely refused the fierce attempts of the Spaniards to lay themselves along-side. Keeping within musket-range, the well-disciplined English mariners poured broadside after broadside against the towering s.h.i.+ps of the Armada, which afforded so easy a mark; while the Spaniards, on their part, found it impossible, while wasting incredible quant.i.ties of powder and shot, to inflict any severe damage on their enemies. Throughout the action, not an English s.h.i.+p was destroyed, and not a hundred men were killed. On the other hand, all the best s.h.i.+ps of the Spaniards were riddled through and through, and with masts and yards shattered, sails and rigging torn to shreds, and a north-went wind still drifting them towards the fatal sand-batiks of Holland, they, laboured heavily in a chopping sea, firing wildly, and receiving tremendous punishment at the hands of Howard Drake, Seymour, Winter, and their followers. Not even master-gunner Thomas could complain that day of ”blind exercise” on the part of the English, with ”little harm done” to the enemy. There was scarcely a s.h.i.+p in the Armada that did not suffer severely; for nearly all were engaged in that memorable action off the sands of Gravelines.
The Captain-General himself, Admiral Recalde, Alonzo de Leyva, Oquendo, Diego Flores de Valdez, Bertendona, Don Francisco de Toledo, Don Diego de Pimentel, Telles Enriquez, Alonzo de Luzon, Garibay, with most of the great galleons and galea.s.ses, were in the thickest of the fight, and one after the other each of those huge s.h.i.+ps was disabled. Three sank before the fight was over, many others were soon drifting helpless wrecks towards a hostile sh.o.r.e, and, before five o'clock, in the afternoon, at least sixteen of their best s.h.i.+ps had been sacrificed, and from four to five thousand soldiers killed.
[”G.o.d hath mightily preserved her Majesty's forces with the least losses that ever hath been heard of, being within the compa.s.s of so great volleys of shot, both small and great. I verily believe there is not threescore men lost of her Majesty's forces.” Captain J.
Fenner to Walsingham, 4/14 Aug. 1588. (S. P. Office MS.)]
Nearly all the largest vessels of the Armada, therefore, having, been disabled or damaged--according to a Spanish eye-witness--and all their small shot exhausted, Medina Sidonia reluctantly gave orders to retreat.
The Captain-General was a bad sailor; but he was, a chivalrous Spaniard of ancient Gothic blood, and he felt deep mortification at the plight of his invincible fleet, together with undisguised: resentment against Alexander Farnese, through whose treachery and incapacity, he considered.
the great Catholic cause to have been, so foully sacrificed. Crippled, maltreated, and diminished in number, as were his s.h.i.+ps; he would have still faced, the enemy, but the winds and currents were fast driving him on, a lee-sh.o.r.e, and the pilots, one and all, a.s.sured him that it would be inevitable destruction to remain. After a slight and very ineffectual attempt to rescue Don Diego de Pimentel in the St. Matthew--who refused to leave his disabled s.h.i.+p--and Don Francisco de Toledo; whose great galleon, the St. Philip, was fast driving, a helpless wreck, towards Zeeland, the Armada bore away N.N.E. into the open sea, leaving those, who could not follow, to their fate.
The St. Matthew, in a sinking condition, hailed a Dutch fisherman, who was offered a gold chain to pilot her into Newport. But the fisherman, being a patriot; steered her close to the Holland fleet, where she was immediately a.s.saulted by Admiral Van der Does, to whom, after a two hours' b.l.o.o.d.y fight, she struck her flag. Don Diego, marshal of the camp to the famous legion of Sicily, brother, of the Marquis of Tavera, nephew of the Viceroy of Sicily, uncle to the Viceroy of Naples, and numbering as many t.i.tles, dignities; and high affinities as could be expected of a grandee of the first cla.s.s, was taken, with his officers, to the Hague.
”I was the means,” said Captain Borlase, ”that the best sort were saved, and the rest were cast overboard and slain at our entry. He, fought with us two hours; and hurt divers of our men, but at, last yielded.”
John Van der Does, his captor; presented the banner; of the Saint Matthew to the great church of Leyden, where--such was its prodigious length--it hung; from floor to ceiling without being entirely unrolled; and there hung, from generation to generation; a worthy companion to the Spanish flags which had been left behind when Valdez abandoned the siege of that heroic city fifteen years before.
The galleon St. Philip, one of the four largest s.h.i.+ps in the Armada, dismasted and foundering; drifted towards Newport, where camp-marshal Don Francisco de Toledo hoped in, vain for succour. La Motte made a feeble attempt at rescue, but some vessels from the Holland fleet, being much more active, seized the unfortunate galleon, and carried her into Flus.h.i.+ng. The captors found forty-eight bra.s.s cannon and other things of value on board, but there were some casks of Ribadavia wine which was more fatal to her enemies than those pieces of artillery had proved. For while the rebels were refres.h.i.+ng themselves, after the fatigues of the capture, with large draughts of that famous vintage, the St. Philip, which had been bored through and through with English shot, and had been rapidly filling with water, gave a sudden lurch, and went down in a moment, carrying with her to the bottom three hundred of those convivial Hollanders.
A large Biscay galleon, too, of Recalde's squadron, much disabled in action, and now, like many others, unable to follow the Armada, was summoned by Captain Cross of the Hope, 48 guns, to surrender. Although foundering, she resisted, and refused to strike her flag. One of her officers attempted to haul down her colours, and was run through the body by the captain, who, in his turn, was struck dead by a brother of the officer thus slain. In the midst of this quarrel the s.h.i.+p went down with all her crew.
Six hours and more, from ten till nearly five, the fight had lasted--a most cruel battle, as the Spaniard declared. There were men in the Armada who had served in the action of Lepanto, and who declared that famous encounter to have been far surpa.s.sed in severity and spirit by this fight off Gravelines. ”Surely every man in our fleet did well,” said Winter, ”and the slaughter the enemy received was great.” Nor would the Spaniards have escaped even worse punishment, had not, most unfortunately, the penurious policy of the Queen's government rendered her s.h.i.+ps useless at last, even in this supreme moment. They never ceased cannonading the discomfited enemy until the ammunition was exhausted. ”When the cartridges were all spent,” said Winter, ”and the munitions in some vessels gone altogether, we ceased fighting, but followed the enemy, who still kept away.” And the enemy--although still numerous, and seeming strong enough, if properly handled, to destroy the whole English fleet--fled before them. There remained more than fifty Spanish vessels, above six hundred tons in size, besides sixty hulks and other vessels of less account; while in the whole English navy were but thirteen s.h.i.+ps of or above that burthen. ”Their force is wonderful great and strong,” said Howard, ”but we pluck their feathers by little and little.”
For Medina Sidonia had now satisfied himself that he should never succeed in boarding those hard-fighting and swift-sailing craft, while, meantime, the horrible panic of Sunday night and the succession of fights throughout the following day, had completely disorganized his followers.
Crippled, riddled, shorn, but still numerous, and by no means entirely vanquished, the Armada was flying with a gentle breeze before an enemy who, to save his existence; could not have fired a broadside.
”Though our powder and shot was well nigh spent,” said the Lord-Admiral, ”we put on a brag countenance and gave them chase, as though we had wanted nothing.” And the brag countenance was successful, for that ”one day's service had much appalled the enemy” as Drake observed; and still the Spaniards fled with a freshening gale all through the Monday night.
”A thing greatly to be regarded,” said Fenner, of the Nonpariel, ”is that that the Almighty had stricken them with a wonderful fear. I have hardly, seen any of their companies succoured of the extremities which befell them after their fights, but they have been left, at utter ruin, while they bear as much sail as ever they possibly can.”
On Tuesday morning, 9th August, the English s.h.i.+ps were off the isle of Walcheren, at a safe distance from the sh.o.r.e. ”The wind is hanging westerly,” said Richard Tomson, of the Margaret and Joan, ”and we drive our enemies apace, much marvelling in what port they will direct themselves. Those that are left alive are so weak and heartless that they could be well content to lose all charges and to be at home, both rich and poor.”
”In my conscience,” said Sir William Winter, ”I think the Duke would give his dukedom to be in Spain again.”
The English s.h.i.+ps, one-hundred and four in number, being that morning half-a-league to windward, the Duke gave orders for the whole Armada to lay to and, await their approach. But the English had no disposition to engage, for at, that moment the instantaneous destruction of their enemies seemed inevitable. Ill-managed, panic-struck, staggering before their foes, the Spanish fleet was now close upon the fatal sands of Zeeland. Already there were but six and a-half fathoms of water, rapidly shoaling under their keels, and the pilots told Medina that all were irretrievably lost, for the freshening north-welter was driving them steadily upon the banks. The English, easily escaping the danger, hauled their wind, and paused to see the ruin of the proud Armada accomplished before their eyes. Nothing but a change of wind at the instant could save them from perdition. There was a breathless shudder of suspense, and then there came the change. Just as the foremost s.h.i.+ps were about to ground on the Ooster Zand, the wind suddenly veered to the south-west, and the Spanish s.h.i.+ps quickly squaring their sails to the new impulse, stood out once more into the open sea.
All that day the galleons and galea.s.ses, under all the canvas which they dared to spread, continued their flight before the south-westerly breeze, and still the Lord-Admiral, maintaining the brag countenance, followed, at an easy distance, the retreating foe. At 4 p. m., Howard fired a signal gun, and ran up a flag of council. Winter could not go, for he had been wounded in action, but Seymour and Drake, Hawkins, Frobisher, and the rest were present, and it was decided that Lord Henry should return, accompanied by Winter and the rest of the inner, squadron, to guard the Thames mouth against any attempt of the Duke of Parma, while the Lord Admiral and the rest of the navy should continue the pursuit of the Armada.
Very wroth was Lord Henry at being deprived of his share in the chase.
”The Lord-Admiral was altogether desirous to have me strengthen him,”
said he, ”and having done so to the utmost of my good-will and the venture of my life, and to the distressing of the Spaniards, which was thoroughly done on the Monday last, I now find his Lords.h.i.+p jealous and loath to take part of the honour which is to come. So he has used his authority to command me to look to our English coast, threatened by the Duke of Parma. I pray G.o.d my Lord Admiral do not find the lack of the Rainbow and her companions, for I protest before G.o.d I vowed I would be as near or nearer with my little s.h.i.+p to encounter our enemies as any of the greatest s.h.i.+ps in both armies.”
There was no insubordination, however, and Seymour's squadron; at twilight of Tuesday evening, August 9th--according to orders, so that the enemy might not see their departure--bore away for Margate. But although Winter and Seymour were much disappointed at their enforced return, there was less enthusiasm among the sailors of the fleet. Pursuing the Spaniards without powder or fire, and without beef and bread to eat, was not thought amusing by the English crews. Howard had not three days'
supply of food in his lockers, and Seymour and his squadron had not food for one day. Accordingly, when Seymour and Winter took their departure, ”they had much ado,” so Winter said; ”with the staying of many s.h.i.+ps that would have returned with them, besides their own company.” Had the Spaniards; instead of being panic-struck, but turned on their pursuers, what might have been the result of a conflict with starving and unarmed men?
Howard, Drake, and Frobisher, with the rest of the fleet, followed the Armada through the North Sea from Tuesday night (9th August) till Friday (the 12th), and still, the strong southwester swept the Spaniards before them, uncertain whether to seek refuge, food, water, and room to repair damages, in the realms of the treacherous King of Scots, or on the iron-bound coasts of Norway. Medina Sidonia had however quite abandoned his intention of returning to England, and was only anxious for a safe return: to Spain. So much did he dread that northern pa.s.sage; unpiloted, around the grim Hebrides, that he would probably have surrendered, had the English overtaken him and once more offered battle. He was on the point of hanging out a white flag as they approached him for the last time--but yielded to the expostulations of the ecclesiastics on board the Saint Martin, who thought, no doubt, that they had more to fear from England than from the sea, should they be carried captive to that country, and who persuaded him that it would be a sin and a disgrace to surrender before they had been once more attacked.
On the other hand, the Devons.h.i.+re skipper, Vice-Admiral Drake, now thoroughly in his element, could not restrain his hilarity, as he saw the Invincible Armada of the man whose beard he had so often singed, rolling through the German Ocean, in full flight from the country which was to have been made, that week, a Spanish province. Unprovided as were his s.h.i.+ps, he was for risking another battle, and it is quite possible that the brag countenance might have proved even more successful than Howard thought.
”We have the army of Spain before us,” wrote Drake, from the Revenge, ”and hope with the grace of G.o.d to wrestle a pull with him. There never was any thing pleased me better than seeing the enemy flying with a southerly wind to the northward. G.o.d grant you have a good eye to the Duke of Parma, for with the grace of G.o.d, if we live, I doubt not so to handle the matter with the Duke of Sidonia as he shall wish himself at St. Mary's Port among his orange trees.”
But Howard decided to wrestle no further pull. Having followed the Spaniards till Friday, 12th of August, as far as the lat.i.tude of 56d. 17'