THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA - PART ONE
THE DEFEAT OF THE SPANISH ARMADA – PART ONE
In the late sixteenth century Europe was dominated by two superpowers: France and Spain. The cautiously protestant Elizabeth I of England, who had come to the throne after the death of her Catholic half sister Mary in 1558, inherited a treasury that was almost bankrupt, and her foreign policy was aimed at avoiding open – and expensive – entanglement with either power. This policy was thoroughly approved of by most of her subjects who had quite enough of foreign interference during Mary’s reign. England was however very much involved in an undeclared war with Spain, wholeheartedly approved of by many of her subjects, whereby individual ship owners or sailors would ambush Spanish treasure ships. Ever since Cortes had conquered Mexico in 1519 and Pizzaro Peru in 1533 mule trains had delivered gold, silver, spices, hides and hardwood to the coastal ports of the Caribbean from where it would be shipped to Havana in Cuba to await the formation of a convoy sailing to Seville or Cadiz. Often a single ship would make the voyage and these were easy prey for men like Francis Drake, John Hawkins and Walter Raleigh, although they might often combine to take on a convoy, particularly if it had been scattered by storms. These English ships carried letters of marque, which made their activities legal under English law, although not, of course, under anyone else’s. English privateers, essentially legalised pirates, acquired vast quantities of treasure from these incessant raids, of which the English treasury, in the shape of the queen, received a cut. It has been estimated that those who invested in the raids obtained a forty-to-one return on their money. Spain complained, frequently and often, and Elizabeth denied that she knew anything about such nefarious and unauthorised activities: she had indeed issued letters of marque, but these were intended to authorise the seizing of pirates and smugglers, not the ships of his most Catholic majesty.
It was not only the incessant raids on Spanish treasure convoys that angered the Spanish, but unofficial English aid to rebellious elements in Flanders, the Spanish Netherlands. Eventually Philip of Spain decided to end the English threat once and for all. She would not only be eliminated as a threat to the shipment of treasure from the American colonies to Spain but would be forced to become a satellite state of the Spanish empire with the Catholic religion restored. Planning for the defeat of England began as early as 1585, and a number of schemes were submitted to Philip. Spain had been building a large and powerful navy, designed to protect and control her expanding empire in America and Europe. The English navy, much smaller but known to be highly effective, had still to be considered, and a landing on the English coast could not take place until it was either eliminated or decoyed away from the Channel. Most of the plans submitted were rejected as being either far too expensive or requiring more assets than Spain could assemble. One envisaged a feint landing by 30,000 troops in Ireland, to lure the English navy away from the Channel, when another 30,000 from the Spanish army in Flanders would effect a landing on the Kent coast. Another scheme assumed that the operation could be hatched in complete secrecy, allowing the men from Flanders to cross in flat-bottomed barges and land between Margate and Dover. However an invasion was to be achieved, all were agreed that the landing force must immediately strike for London, brushing aside the English defenders who, it was assumed, would be no match for the experienced Spanish troops. Once London, defended only by the Tower, was taken, a government was to be established which would depose Elizabeth. The question was, who was to replace her? The answer was perhaps to marry the Catholic Mary Queen of Scots, a comfortable prisoner in England, herself with a claim to the throne though her descent from Henry VIII’s sister Margaret, to a loyal Spanish magnate, and the Duke of Parma was suggested.
Preparations for military action against England could not be concealed, and in any case Elizabeth’s government had a very competent head of intelligence in Sir Francis Walsingham. Born in 1532, the year before Henry VIII married Anne Boleyn, Walsingham was the son of a lawyer and a Cambridge educated lawyer himself. As a protestant he spent most of Mary Tudor’s reign in Switzerland, and while there is no evidence that he was involved in any of the conspiracies against Mary, some of his friends certainly were. Returning to England on the accession of Elizabeth, he became MP for Lyme Regis, a member of the commission to establish the religious settlement, and in 1570 ambassador to Paris. While in France he was very much involved in driving English foreign policy, although only narrowly escaping with his life during the prolonged killings of protestants following the Saint Bartholomew’s Day massacre in 1572. On returning to England in December 1573 Walsingham was made a member of the Privy Council, the body that advised the monarch and implemented policy on her behalf, and Principal Secretary. There were a number of secretaries, under the overall direction of William Cecil, Lord Burghley, who was effectively the Prime Minister, although that term would not appear for another 200 years. Walsingham’s responsibilities were largely concerned with foreign policy, including dealing with the various suitors for the Queen’s hand, and involved him in traveling to France, Scotland and Holland where he concluded a treaty with the Dutch republic which had broken away from Spain in 1579. It was his dealings with the Scots that initiated Walsingham’s intelligence network, and it is clear that he had a natural aptitude for clandestine operations. He persuaded a number of Scots nobles to become double agents, and suborned a clerk at the French embassy in London so that he was aware of the ambassador’s correspondence to and from Paris. Increasingly Walsingham became convinced that the main threat to England was Spain, and there was much evidence that plots against Elizabeth emanating from Spain also involved Mary, Queen of Scots. In 1584 Walsingham knew that documents relating to one of these, the ‘Throgmorton Plot’, which may have included a list of conspirators, was held by the Spanish embassy, and when the ambassador refused to hand them over he was declared persona non grata and diplomatic relations were broken off. Mendoza, the Spanish ambassador, was now appointed to Paris.
Despite indications that Mary knew about at least some of the plots carried out in her name, and the urgings of both Burghley and Walsingham that she should be executed, Elizabeth was reluctant to bring her to trial or to execute her – chopping the heads off anointed monarchs was not a good precedent. Eventually Mary’s letters were intercepted and showed that she did indeed have knowledge of and approved of what became known as the ‘Babington Plot’, when she encouraged the plotters to assassinate Elizabeth. Mary was tried for treason, found guilty and sentenced to death. She claimed that as she was not an English subject she could not be tried for treason, but Magna Carta was quoted – ‘Protection demands allegiance’ – and as Mary had come to England of her own free will to seek protection, she could indeed be tried. Still reluctant to have the sentence carried out Elizabeth havered, but in February 1587, five months after the guilty finding, Mary was beheaded in Fotheringhay Castle. She was forty-five years old and had been a prisoner in England for nineteen years.
From the Spanish point of view the removal of Mary did avoid the risk of an Alliance between England and France, and Philip now informed the Pope that he intended to claim the English throne himself (he would have had a tenuous claim, based on maternal descent from Philippa of Lancaster, granddaughter of Edward III and wife of John I of Portugal) but give it to his daughter. As planning progressed for the elimination of the English threat it was apparent just how expensive such a venture was going to be. Pleas from Spanish colonies in the Caribbean for funds to improve their fortifications against English raids went unanswered and Walsingham had persuaded the Italian bankers not to lend to Philip. While the prospect of England returning to the Catholic faith persuaded a reluctant Pope – now Sixtus V – to promise a loan, the first tranche would only be given when a landing on English soil had actually taken place, the same to be certified by a qualified lawyer!
A flood of intelligence continued to come to Walsingham. As so often was the case, then and later, the volume was such that it was difficult to separate fact from wishful thinking or deliberate dissembling. There was no shortage of informants: merchants, sailors, friendly diplomats all reinforced Walsingham’s agents. In France the Spanish ambassador, Mendoza, expelled from England, secured what he thought was a great intelligence coup when the English ambassador, Sir Edward Stafford, offered to provide information in return for cash. Stafford had run up huge gambling debts and his creditors were closing in. Walsingham had suspected that Stafford may have been turned and passed false information on to him, knowing that it would be immediately communicated to Mendoza. Surprisingly, perhaps, Stafford got away with it, presumably because the evidence was circumstantial and Walsingham did not wish to admit publicly that the English ambassador was a traitor.
Reports coming into Walsingham indicated that Spain had ordered large shipments of Baltic pines (ships hulls were of oak but the masts of pine) and had accelerated work in her shipyards; ships were being concentrated in Cadiz, Vigo and Corunna and, since the invasion and subjugation of Portugal in 1580, nullifying the 1386 Anglo-Portuguese treaty of Windsor, in Lisbon and Porto as well; more men than was normal in time of peace were being inducted into the Spanish navy and army; arms and powder were being stockpiled, preserved rations collected and there was increased communication between Spain and the Spanish Netherlands. Many of the Queen’s advisers were convinced, or wanted to be convinced, that all this was merely Spanish bravado and bluff. If it were not then the defences of England would have to be augmented, and that, to a parsimonious Queen, was to be avoided if at all possible.
TO BE CONTINUED