Philip II. of Spain 27

Philip II. of Spain 27

In the meanwhile the execution of Mary Stuart had somewhat altered

Philip’s position in relation to England. It became now necessary that

the question of his title to the crown should be settled at once, and

the pope was cautiously approached with the suggestion that he should

give the investiture to the Infanta Isabel. Allen was employed to assure

his Holiness of the desire of the English Catholics that she should be

their sovereign, and to ply him with genealogical essays and pedigrees

proving her right. Cardinal Deza too, the savage bigot who had so

fiercely harried the Moriscos in Andalucia, was prompted to inflame the

pope’s zeal by showing him that only under Philip’s auspices could

Catholicism be firmly established in England. In the meanwhile the

Scottish party, led by Chisholm, Bishop of Dunblane, with the English

Pagets and others, were full of plans for converting James. One

persuasive churchman after another was sent to tackle him, but the wily

Stuart was not to be caught, and it came to nothing. Philip expressed

and showed the deepest grief for the death of Mary Stuart, and fulfilled

her dying wishes most scrupulously, at great cost to himself. There is

no reason to doubt the sincerity of his sorrow, especially as her death

added considerably to the immediate difficulties he had to overcome.

Whilst the intrigues continued in Rome--on Philip’s side to obtain

further aid from the pope, to secure the appointment of Allen as

cardinal, and the recognition of the Infanta as Queen of England, and on

the other side to secure the pontiff’s support of the Franco-Scottish

plans for James Stuart’s conversion, or even an arrangement with

Elizabeth--through all the year 1587 the ports and arsenals of Spain and

Portugal were busy with the preparations for the great expedition. Don

Antonio was in England now, clamouring for armed aid against his enemy,

his every action watched by Philip’s spies; and from them news reached

Spain that a considerable force was being fitted out under Drake in

England in Antonio’s interests again to attack the Azores, or to plunder

the treasure ships from the Indies. But suddenly the dreaded Drake with

his fleet appeared off Cadiz on April 18.[2] Elizabeth had only with

great unwillingness allowed him to sail for Spain, and had warned him

not to do too much harm, but to watch what was being done. As usual, as

soon as he was out of sight of England he took his own course, placed

his vice-admiral, Borough, under arrest for reminding him not to exceed

the queen’s orders, and entered Cadiz harbour, to the dismay of the

Spaniards. He plundered, burned, and sunk all the ships in the port, and

destroyed all the stores he could lay hands upon, and then quietly

sailed out again unmolested. He did damage to the extent of a million

ducats, and if he had disobeyed the queen’s orders still further, he

might have stopped the Armada for good, by burning the ships in Lisbon,

for we now know from Santa Cruz’s own confession that there were no men

or guns on board to protect them. But he no doubt thought he had done

enough, for he knew that his mistress was now engaged in peace

negotiations with Farnese on account of Philip.[3] The English

commissioners, the traitor Crofts, controller of the household, amongst

them, after endless bickering and delay, arranged a place of meeting

agreeable to both parties, and every effort to drag matters out was made

by Farnese, in order to give Philip more time for preparations, whilst

the English were to be lulled by false hopes of peace. How far Elizabeth

herself was deceived in these negotiations is uncertain, but the

commissioners, and the experienced Dr. Dale with them, were not very

long before they came to the conclusion that they were insincere. The

most extraordinary element in the case is that Farnese was at first

ignorant of Philip’s real intention, and wrote strongly urging the king

to let him make peace in earnest and abandon his plans for the invasion

of England. From first to last, indeed, Farnese had no heart or belief

in the enterprise. He foresaw all the difficulties which ultimately

befell it and more, and, although he vehemently justified himself for

his share in the catastrophe, his contemporaries were firm in the belief

that he purposely failed to do his best. It is certain, from frequent

complaints in his letters, that he considered himself aggrieved, and

resented the cool half-confidence with which his uncle treated him. “How

can I,” he says, “give sound advice or make fitting arrangements unless

I am informed of the real objects in view?”

 

In the early spring of 1586 Santa Cruz had furnished a complete estimate

of all that would be required for the Armada--a perfect monument of

knowledge and foresight. There were to be 150 great ships, 320 smaller

vessels of from 50 to 80 tons each, 40 galleys and 6 galleasses, 556 in

all, besides 240 flat boats and pinnaces. There were to be 30,000 seamen

and 63,890 soldiers, with 1600 horses; and the extra expenditure was

calculated at 3,800,000 ducats. But to concentrate so powerful a force

as this in Spain itself was too great a task for Philip’s haste, and he

took the first fatal step by arranging that one-half was to be raised by

Farnese in Flanders, for now Philip, like most slow men when they have

once made up their minds, was in a desperate hurry. For thirty years he

had driven his most faithful servants to despair by his stolid

impassibility to English insult and aggression. He had seen his colonies

sacked, his commerce destroyed by English privateers; he had been robbed

of treasure beyond calculation, and suffered every imaginable insult

from a queen whom he could have crushed a dozen times over in the

earlier years of her reign. Leicester, who had fawned upon him, and had

sworn eternal fealty to him, had commanded an army against him in his

own territory; and the English privy councillors, who for years had

battened on his bribes, had connived at the placing on the brows of a

foreigner one of his own ancestral crowns. He had stood all this without

revolt, in the face of his councillors, but, when at last he had lifted

his ponderous “leaden foot,” he must needs do things in haste. Santa

Cruz, old sailor as he was, could ill brook divided command with Parma,

knowing that he must in the end take second place, and he became

discontented and jealous at the alterations of his plans. He urged--as

did every one else--that some safe ports of refuge must first be secured

in the North Sea; but Philip was in a hurry, and trusted to happy

chance. In September 1587 Santa Cruz received his instructions. He was

to go direct to Margate and protect the passage of Parma’s troops

across, and he was on no account to allow himself to be diverted from

this course until he had joined hands with Parma. In vain the old sailor

represented the danger of adopting this plan until they could be sure of

harbours of refuge in case of need. The king still hoped to beguile the

English with thoughts of peace, and answered with harsh hauteur Santa

Cruz’s assurance that hurry meant failure. The old hero, who would have

stood unmoved before an army, incontinently went home and died of a

broken heart (February 1588). Philip so rarely said a hasty word, that

when he did so, the effect was terrible.

 

The commanders and nobles on the Armada were jealous and quarrelsome,

already chafing at the delay and appalling mismanagement which resulted

from Philip’s insistence that all details must go through him. The only

man whose rank and power would ensure respect from all of them was the

most splendid noble in Spain, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, who was under

orders to take the Andalucian squadron from Cadiz to Lisbon; and him

Philip appointed to the command. He protested plaintively, and truly,

that he was entirely unfit for the task. He had no experience or

knowledge of the sea, he was always sea-sick, and had no mental capacity

which fitted him to a great command. Philip probably knew this as well

as the duke, or even the duchess, who was very emphatic on the subject;

but it suited him, he thought, to have such a man, because he would be

certain to obey the king’s orders strictly, and Philip was anxious, as

usual, to control the whole expedition with unerring precision from his

cell in the Escorial, hundreds of miles away. When the duke arrived in

Lisbon he found everything in utter confusion. Arms, ammunition, stores,

and men were short. Orders given had not been fulfilled, and many weeks

passed before Medina Sidonia could report that all was ready,

notwithstanding the king’s urgent requests that not a day should be

lost. The most trifling matters were considered and decided by the king

himself in Madrid. Nothing could be done without him. The stronger sorts

of wine must be mixed with a certain quantity of water; the men on the

fleet must be confessed and take the communion before sailing, and must

not use bad language; no private berths or bunks must be erected on the

ships, and scores of similar orders were sent from Madrid solemnly

signed by the king, whilst the duke was praying for men, money, and

stores, and the victuallers, with the connivance of the pursers, were

shipping rotten food, fraudulent both in quantity and quality. At length

in April the preparations had sufficiently advanced for Philip to send

his final instructions to the duke. He is reminded that he is going on a

holy errand in God’s service, and divine aid may therefore be counted

upon. He is to go direct to Margate and then join hands with the Duke of

Parma and protect his passage across, and is not to be diverted from

this even if he hears that Drake has come to Spain. If possible, he was

to send to Parma the promised contingent of 6000 soldiers; and, if by

any mishap he could not join hands with him, he was to capture the Isle

of Wight, and then communicate with Parma, who, in union with him, would

settle the next step. With this instruction a very important closed

despatch was sent, to be delivered to Parma only after he had landed in

England.

 

This despatch is of the greatest possible interest as fixing definitely

what where Philip’s ultimate aims in the invasion, and the irreducible

minimum with which he would have been satisfied. If Parma found that

conquest was not easy, and considered it advisable to make peace, there

were three points upon which he was to base his negotiations. First,

that free exercise of the Catholic religion should be allowed; secondly,

that the fortresses occupied by the English in the Netherlands should

be restored to him; and, thirdly, that the damage done to Spain and

Spanish subjects should be made good. The third condition was to be used

mainly as a lever to obtain the other two; but the first condition,

namely, religious toleration, was to be the main object, and with this,

as a last resource, Philip would have been contented.

 

On April 25 the sacred standard was delivered to Medina Sidonia with

great pomp in Lisbon. Rogations, prayers, fastings, and propitiatory

masses were performed ceaselessly, not only on board the Armada, but all

over Spain. In the most solemn manner the soldiers and sailors were

inflamed with the idea that they were God’s own chosen warriors, going

under His divine protection to restore the faith to millions of English

people, who were yearning for their coming--to millions held in

subjection by a wicked queen and a few heretics. The weather was

bad--like December, said the duke,--and it was May 30 before the great

fleet could be got out of the Tagus. Head winds and heavy weather kept

them off the coast--some of the ships drifting as far down as Cape St.

Vincent--for a fortnight. By that time the victuals on board were going

bad and running short. Many had to be thrown overboard, and sickness

began to prevail, mainly in consequence of overcrowding and putrid food

and water. By June 14, when the duke was off Finisterre, it became

evident that if the expedition was to continue, fresh provisions would

have to be obtained, and despatch boats were sent to the ports begging

that supplies might be sent to them. Before they could reach the

fleet--June 19--a heavy gale came on, and the duke’s flagship, with