The ‘Spanish Road‘, linking Spain’s northern territories with those in Italy and the Peninsula. In an ambitious undertaking, Spain used the Spanish Road to reinforce her position in the Netherlands with the new Army of Flanders in 1567.

Though called a ‘road’, this vital artery in fact still involved a journey by sea from Spain’s Mediterranean coast to Genoa that, like Rome, was part of Spain’s informal empire. Troops, money and supplies were convoyed by the Genoese galley squadron that formed an unofficial part of Spain’s Mediterranean fleet. From Genoa, the men marched north to Milan, centre of Spanish power in northern Italy, where they were refreshed and often joined by recruits from Spain’s Italian possessions. The main route ran from the fortress of Alessandria in the south-west Milanese lands across to Asti in Piedmont, a territory belonging to the duke of Savoy who was an ally until 1610. The road forked here, with one branch running north-west via Pinerolo which gave access to the Alpine pass of Mont Cenis and thence to Savoy proper and the upper Rhône, from where the soldiers could march north into the Franche-Comté. A subsidiary track ran along the Val de Susa west of Turin and over the Mont Genèvre. Alternatively, the men could head directly from Milan north up the Ivrea valley and cross by the Great or Little St Bernard passes through Aosta, down the Arve valley in Upper Savoy to Geneva, and then north-east along the Jura into the Franche-Comté. The three routes converged there and then headed north across the duchy of Lorraine into Luxembourg and the front. Sea transport from La Coruña covered about 200km a day, compared to the 23km a day average soldiers took to march the 1,000km from Milan to Flanders, but the overland route was safer and Spain sent over 123,000 men this way between 1567 and 1620, compared with 17,600 by sea.

The French Wars of Religion

Concern for the Road drew Spain deeper into French and Savoyard internal affairs during the 1580s, rather in the manner that the Dutch and other powers were sucked into German quarrels. In Spain’s case, however, involvement did escalate into major war, because France posed a much greater potential threat than any German territory.

France had entered a dynamic period of expansion following its victory over England in the Hundred Years War. The Valois kings consolidated royal control over the central provinces, while subduing previously autonomous border regions: Normandy in 1450, Provence in 1481, Brittany (1491), Bourbonnais and Auvergne (1523) and Saluzzo (1548). Attempts to seize Burgundy after the death of its last duke in 1477 sparked a long-running war with the Habsburgs that widened with Charles VIII’s invasion of Italy in 1494. Though this conflict ended with eventual French defeat by 1559, the country’s population had doubled across the previous century and continued to grow, reaching 19 million by 1600. The ability of the French crown to exploit this potential was hamstrung by its weakness following Henri II’s accidental death in a tournament in 1559. Government passed to his widow, Catherine de Medici, who acted as regent for a succession of the late king’s young sons: Francis II (1559–60), Charles IX (1560–74) and Henri III (1574–89). Aristocrats and others who had lost out during the previous century of growing royal power now sought to reassert their influence, under the leadership of the princes of the blood. These grandees were related by intermarriage with the royal family but excluded from rule by the principle of hereditary succession and the crown’s desire for more exclusive authority. Religion complicated matters since many princes and their provincial clients became Huguenots around 1560, embracing the French version of Calvinism, while their rivals remained Catholic. A series of bitter feuds, known as the French Wars of Religion, developed after 1562 and eroded royal authority by exposing the Valois’ inability to guarantee the peace.

International peace was no longer threatened by French aggression but by the danger that the kingdom’s implosion would suck neighbouring countries into its civil war. This was a particular problem for the Empire where princes claimed the right to recruit soldiers to assist friendly Christian powers as one of their German Freedoms. While recruitment was regulated by imperial legislation forbidding it against the emperor or the public peace, territorial fragmentation made it hard to prevent princes collecting troops for their relations or friends across the frontier. The Huguenot leaders had already appealed to the German Protestant princes in April 1562 for assistance, receiving 4,000 cavalry in the first of seven German military expeditions totalling over 70,000 men. Other soldiers were provided by the Protestant princes for the Dutch rebels, but the Catholics were equally active, supplying Spain with 57,200 men between 1567 and 1575 alone, while a further 25,000 Germans served Sweden and Denmark during their war of 1563–70. These figures illustrate the Empire’s importance, because it provided more troops than any of the other unofficial participants in the French and Dutch wars. Around 20,000 Britons served in the Huguenot and Dutch forces between 1562 and 1591, while 50,000 Swiss fought for the French crown and 20,000 for the Huguenot rebels over roughly the same period. The Palatinate was the prime mover behind German recruitment for the Huguenots, since its elector converted to Calvinism in 1560 and part of its territory lay close to the terminus of the Spanish Road. Germany’s rising population ensured that the princes had the men, but they relied on the Huguenots and their international sponsors to pay for them. The money invariably arrived late and never covered the full cost. Consequently, German intervention was intermittent and short-lived, with most expeditions lasting only a few months and ending in a shambles.

Lorraine and Savoy

Recruitment also exposed the princes to retaliation from the French Catholics who formed the League (Ligue), or ‘Holy Union’ as they preferred, in 1584 when it became obvious that the only plausible heir to Henri III, the last Valois, was Henri de Bourbon, king of Navarre and Huguenot leader. The League was a vehicle for the powerful Guise family, who were related to the Valois and controlled north-eastern France around Champagne, as well as the largely French-speaking duchy of Lorraine which was formally part of the Empire. The Guise considered themselves to be the guardians of French Catholicism and were keen to prevent anyone occupying the French throne who might want to curb their political autonomy. Their territories made them a major factor in Habsburg strategic thinking, since their cooperation was essential to secure the last stretch of the Spanish Road, as well as blocking any hostile French moves towards Alsace and the Rhine. Philip II’s decision to subsidize the League from December 1584 transformed what had been a series of seven fierce but brief civil wars into a protracted international struggle lasting until 1598. The situation within France simplified as the different factions polarized into two opposing camps, each with powerful foreign backers. England complemented its involvement in the Dutch Revolt by allying with Henri de Navarre in 1585 and funding the largest German expedition to date that lasted five months from August 1587. The League retaliated by invading the Protestant territories west of the Rhine, burning 62 villages in Mömpelgard alone.

Lorraine’s involvement was matched by that of Savoy, another territory maintaining a precarious autonomy on the Empire’s western periphery Savoy narrowly escaped being another victim of French expansion during the early sixteenth century, thanks to Habsburg intervention that forced France to return its territory in 1559 after 23 years of occupation. Duke Emanuele Filiberto saw France’s subsequent troubles as a chance to escape the tutelage of foreign kings. He moved his capital from Chambéry in Savoy across the Alps to the relative safety of Turin in Piedmont in 1560, and began fostering a more distinct identity. Italian was declared the official language, the prized Holy Shroud was moved to Turin in 1578, and writers were paid to elaborate the myth that the new capital had been founded by a wandering Egyptian prince and so pre-dated Rome and Troy. These moves were given a nationalist gloss by nineteenth-century writers, especially once the House of Savoy became kings of the newly united Italy in 1860. The family had no such grandiose plans in the sixteenth century, concentrating instead on securing recognition as the equals of other European royalty and capturing enough new territory to sustain its independence. It became a matter of pride to recover Geneva, which had been lost during the French invasion of 1536 and subsequently became an independent Calvinist republic, while its hinterland in the Vaud joined the Swiss Confederation. The duke also planned to move south over the Ligurian Apennines to seize Genoa and gain access to the sea. There were also hopes of pushing westwards into Provence and the Dauphiné, as well as east into Milan. Such ambitions could not be achieved alone, and Savoyard policy relied on capitalizing on its strategic position as ‘gatekeeper of the Alps’. In addition to controlling the Tenda Pass between Nice and Piedmont south of Turin, all three routes of the southern section of the Spanish Road ran across its territory.

The accession of Carlo Emanuele I in 1580 saw the start of a more aggressive policy. The new duke has been dismissed as an opportunist, darting in and out of Europe’s wars over the next forty years. However, his frequent shifts of international alignment were forced upon him since he could not afford to pin his fragile independence too closely to any one power, and his goals of dynastic aggrandizement remained constant underneath. The failure to retake Geneva in 1582 convinced him of the need for a powerful ally and he married Philip II’s daughter, Catalina Michaela, in 1585, agreeing to back his father-in-law’s intervention in France. In 1588 he recaptured Saluzzo in the upper Po valley just east of the Alps that had been lost to France forty years earlier. He retook the Vaud the following year, but another attempt on Geneva ended in failure, prompting him to redirect his efforts against Provence and the Dauphiné, thinking they would be easier pickings.

Supported by the Savoyard invasion of the south, the Catholic League was able to take Paris in May 1588 in defiance of Henri III’s orders. The king’s assassination by a Catholic militant on 2 August 1589 removed the last constraints on the League, which began a vicious persecution of the Huguenots. The League’s apparent success was its undoing, since it lacked its own candidate for the vacant throne. Most moderate Catholics regarded Henri de Navarre as their legitimate sovereign, but the prospect of him being recognized as king was a major challenge to Spain’s reputation. Not only was he a heretic, but he was locked in his own dispute with Spain, which had annexed half of Navarre in 1512. Having used the League and Savoy to fight the war by proxy, Philip II now intervened directly by ordering Parma’s invasion of Artois in 1590 – the act which had such a serious impact on the conduct of the Dutch War. The Palatinate and Saxony organized the seventh and last German expedition in 1591–2 to assist Henri, but the king gained his crown largely through his conversion to Catholicism in July 1593, reportedly saying ‘Paris was worth a mass’. Though his conversion alienated the more militant Huguenots it allowed the far more numerous moderate Catholics to join him, and his formal coronation as Henri IV in February 1594 was followed by his entry into Paris a month later. Philip II’s health was failing and in the face of mounting setbacks he was unable to prevent Pope Clement VIII from welcoming Henri back into the Catholic church in August 1595. The new king copied Spain’s methods with regards to the papacy, relaxing opposition to papal jurisdiction over the French church and swiftly building up a faction of around twenty cardinals. Though Spain remained the dominant factor in Rome, it was no longer the only player in town, especially as France’s rising influence allowed the pope to increase his own freedom by playing one power against the other.

With Henri IV accepted as king, the League looked increasingly like a Spanish puppet and its leaders defected one after another, leaving Spain to fight alone. Henri formally declared war on Spain in January 1595, invading the Franche-Comté and cutting the Spanish Road. Spain had to re-route this section further east into the Empire via Saarbrücken. Two years later, Field Marshal Lesdiguières drove the Savoyards from the Dauphiné and captured the Maurienne and Tarantaise valleys, cutting the southern end of the Road. Spain launched a counter-attack from the Netherlands, capturing Amiens after bitter fighting, but it was clear its intervention in France had proved counterproductive. Both sides accepted papal mediation, leading to the Peace of Vervins in May 1598, whereby Spain recognized Henri IV, returned Amiens and Calais, and compelled Lorraine to surrender occupied Metz, Toul and Verdun. The French evacuated Savoy and put the question of Saluzzo to papal arbitration.

Savoy offered to surrender its French-speaking possessions between the Rhône and Saône if it could keep Saluzzo – a possession that completed its hold on the western Alps. The proposal alarmed Spain, because it would expose the Road as it left the Alpine valleys and skirted Calvinist Geneva. Carlo Emanuele was secretly encouraged to hold out for better terms by the offer of Spanish military assistance. Henri lost patience and sent 20,000 men back into Savoy before any Spanish help could arrive, and Carlo Emanuele cut his deal with France with the Treaty of Lyons on 17 January 1601, ceding his French-speaking subjects in return for Saluzzo. The Road narrowed to the Chezery valley between Mont Cenis and the two-span bridge at Grésin over the Rhône, west of Geneva, and its vulnerability was demonstrated when France temporarily closed it in July 1602. Spain tried to reopen the Geneva route deeper in the mountains by sponsoring Carlo Emanuele’s assault that December: the famous ‘escalade’ that failed to retake the city and led to rapidly deteriorating relations between Spain and Savoy. Keen to maintain good relations with a resurgent France, Savoy placed growing restrictions on Spain’s use of the Grésin route, finally expelling the soldiers guarding it in 1609. The political reorientation was completed in a formal alliance with France the following year. Spain needed another way over the mountains.

The Swiss Passes

Concern for the western route had already prompted Spain to sign a treaty with five of the seven Catholic Swiss cantons in May 1587 to use the St Gotthard pass. This was the only practical way across central Switzerland and ran through the Catholic cantons east of lakes Luzern and Zug, and then down the Reuss valley to the Rhine. From here, soldiers could march through the friendly Austrian possessions of the Breisgau and Upper Alsace and rejoin the original Road north via Lorraine to Luxembourg. The only alternative way through central Switzerland via the Simplon Pass to the upper Rhône was long and could be blocked by the powerful Protestant canton of Bern. The governor of Milan managed to renew the 1587 treaty in 1604, but the Catholic Swiss were growing nervous over the revival of French influence, and one of the original signatories refused to sign. Though the Catholic cantons had formed a holy alliance in 1586, they had no desire to fight their Protestant neighbours. Swiss politics were a tangle of local relationships, like those in the Empire, where conflicting interests inhibited polarization into sectarian violence. The renewed treaty obliged Spain to march its troops in detachments of two hundred men at two-day intervals, with their weapons loaded separately in wagons. Spain used the St Gotthard route six times between 1604 and 1619, but the Catholics of Uri and Schwyz closed it temporarily in 1613, preventing the governor of Milan from drawing on German recruits during the war with Savoy. These were not conditions that a great power could tolerate for long.

It was possible to send men by sea through the Adriatic to Trieste and then across Inner Austria and the Tirol to the Rhine. However, this was not only very long but liable to disruption by Venice, a power that frequently opposed Spanish policy in Italy. Venice also controlled the Brenner Pass, which offered the best access to the Tirol from Italy. Only three routes remained between these eastern routes and the central Swiss passes. One road ran north from Milan over the Splügen Pass, east of the St Gotthard, and down the Upper Rhine past Chur and Lake Constance to the Breisgau. East of the Splügen lay the Engadin valley that exited through the upper reaches of the Inn into the Tirol. Finally, there was the 120km corridor of the Valtellina that ran north-east from Lake Como to enter the Tirol either through the Stelvio Pass, open between June and September, or the slightly lower Umbrail, generally passable throughout the year. Though further east, the Valtellina offered a faster route, taking roughly four days to cross, compared to ten days over the St Gotthard.

All three routes were in the hands of the Rhetian free states, more commonly known as the Grisons, or Grey Leagues. Rhetia was a federation of three alliances loosely associated with the Swiss Confederation, but also nominally allied to the Austrian Habsburgs. Like the Swiss, Rhetia had emerged from a network of alliances among the Alpine communities that rejected Habsburg rule during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The actual Grey League controlled the far upper reaches of the Rhine, including the city of Chur, whose bishop refused to join. The Holy House League held the Engadin valley of the upper Inn, while the smaller Ten Parish League bordered on the Tirol in the north-west. All three were composed of self-governing communes that sent representatives to a council to coordinate external relations. The Grey League held a majority, but agreement of at least two of the three alliances was necessary for binding decisions. Rhetia’s strategic significance derived from conquests it made from Milan in 1500–32. The mountaineers had not only taken the Valtellina but also the county of Chiavenna at its southern end: this controlled access both southwards into Milan and northwards along the Splügen and Engadin routes.

Like Switzerland, Rhetian government was not democratic in the modern sense. A significant part of the population was disenfranchised, and while the inhabitants of Chiavenna and the Valtellina had been left with self-government, they were treated as conquered territories and denied any representation in the Rhetian council. Social tensions grew more pronounced as population growth placed increasing pressure on the relatively meagre local resources by the 1570s. Communal government fell into the hands of the ‘Big Johns’ (Grosse Hansen), networks of families who secured a controlling stake in the village councils and increasingly assumed noble titles and lifestyles. As in Switzerland, the decentralized political structure ensured that local control translated into greater opportunities for wealth and influence at a higher level. Foreign powers were prepared to pay handsomely for favourable decisions in the Rhetian council to open the passes or permit military recruitment among the overpopulated villages. External influence encouraged factions aligned to different powers, heightening existing tensions. Conflicts in the council passed back to village level as the Big Johns used their influence in the local law courts to pursue personal vendettas. This struck at the heart of the communal ideal upon which Rhetian (and Swiss) society was based, since the primary purpose of all early modern association was to preserve the public peace and the courts were intended to uphold this. The spread of Lutheranism complicated this from the 1520s, as many families converted, while others remained Catholic. Protestants regarded their faith as an expression of independence from Habsburg jurisdiction and that of the bishop of Chur. Their disenfranchised southern subjects (the Sudditi) in the Valtellina clung to Catholicism as an expression of their own identity. Linguistic differences reinforced these divisions, since the northerners spoke German, while the southerners spoke Italian.

Matters worsened as the Rhetian church fell under Calvinist influence and began insisting on greater supervision at parish level to enforce the reformation of life just as the Capuchins and other missionaries sent by Cardinal Borromeo and the bishop of Chur arrived to promote Catholic renewal. The Rhetian leadership felt increasingly beleaguered, not least because their three alliances were outnumbered by their subject populations in Chiavenna and the Valtellina. These grew increasingly restless, revolting in 1572 and 1607. Matters were further complicated by the fact that the majority of the inhabitants of the actual Grey League also remained Catholic, while the 4,000 Protestants living in the Valtellina felt very insecure. It is scarcely surprising that the Calvinist political leadership equated Catholicism with subversion and used its influence in the local courts to instigate a campaign of persecution from 1617.

Fuentes, the governor of Milan, induced the Rhetians to permit small detachments of Spanish soldiers to transit the Valtellina after 1592, but the council then promised exclusive access to the French in December 1601 and signed a similar agreement with Venice two years later. The governor retaliated, building Fort Fuentes at the top of Lake Como to block the entrance into Chiavenna in 1603 and imposing a grain embargo. The Rhetians remained unmoved, so that by 1610, Spain was without a satisfactory route across the Alps. Fortunately, this was now less pressing since the conclusion of the Twelve Years Truce with the Dutch.


Martim Afonso de Sousa

This Portuguese courtier was born at Vila Viçosa toward the end of the 15th century. His father had been a loyal retainer in the household of Bragança, so young Martim was first made a page to Duke Jaime’s son, Teodosio. He later became a page under the crown prince Joao, who would ascend the Portuguese throne in December 1521 as King Joao III.

At that time, de Sousa was absent with the retinue that accompanied the widowed Queen Leonor de Austria back to her native Spain. He stayed on there to serve under the emperor Charles V and fought against the French. De Sousa also married a Spanish lady, Ana Pimentel, with whom he would have five children. In 1525, he was recalled to Portugal by Joao III. De Sousa’s cousin Antonio de Ataide, a childhood friend of the young monarch, was ennobled as Conde de Castanheira and appointed ambassador to France. His influence helped de Sousa obtain the titles of prado and alcoentre, as well as a knight- hood in the Ordem de Cristo.

De Sousa also displayed an interest in mathematics and navigation. He started studying in 1527 under the young royal tutor Pedro Nunes who was named royal cosmographer two years later. De Sousa’s interest helped him obtain command of the Brazilian expedition when it was proposed by his cousin to the king in 1530. De Sousa’s two years of exploration were judged so satisfactory that he was rewarded on his return with the title of governor general of the Portuguese East Indies.

He set sail from Lisbon on March 12, 1534, to assume office in the Far East. His first term proved highly successful, with the creation of a fortress at Diu in Cambodia and vigorous campaigns against the rajah of Calcutta. Therefore, after de Sousa’s tenure expired in 1538, he was named for a second time late in 1541. His squadron reached Goa by May 6, 1542, but his second administration was marred by corruption and dissension. The Portuguese even fought among themselves, and de Sousa was recalled in 1545. He returned under suspicion of financial irregularities and was never again employed by the Crown. He died in Lisbon on July 26, 1564.


As Spain’s settlers forsake their original Antillean outposts for the rich new kingdoms of the American mainland, traders from other western European nations begin drifting into the void. Madrid will vainly attempt to stem this transatlantic traffic into the West Indies, increasing the envy already taking hold against the Spaniards for their rising fortunes. Old World conflicts soon are transposed to the New World, beginning during the first half of the 16th century, when the rulers of Spain and France fight a series of intermittent conflicts known collectively as the Habsburg-Valois Wars (so named for their respective dynastic surnames). These are largely territorial disputes originating in Italy and Flanders that flare into open conflict during 1494-1495, 1499-1505, 1508-1514, 1515-1516, 1521-1526, 1526-1529, 1536-1538, 1542-1544, and 1552-1559, but which actually constitute an almost continuous period of strife from 1494 to 1559.

The coronation of 20-year-old Charles V as Holy Roman Emperor in October 1520 intensifies this rivalry because-already being king of Spain and duke of the Netherlands-his dominions now completely encircle France. The ensuing round of hostilities from 1521 to 1526, called the First Franco-Spanish War, features numerous depredations by French privateers off the coasts of Spain, the Canaries, and the Azores Islands as they waylay vessels bound to and from the Americas. One such pair of ships, bound from recently conquered Mexico with exotic Aztec spoils, is captured in 1522 by Giovanni da Verrazano or Verrazzano-a Florentine-born navigator in the service of Jean Ango of Dieppe-and the fabulous beauty of the spoils helps to persuade François I to sponsor his own exploration of North America in quest of a Northwest Passage to Asia.

Verrazano makes landfall with his 50-man, 100-ton caravel Dauphine near what will later be- come known as the Carolinas in late February or early March 1524, coasting northward and penetrating through the Narrows into what is today New York City’s Upper Bay, hoping that it might prove to be the ephemeral waterway leading to Cathay. After a brief survey, he exits and continues his continental exploration as far northeastward as Newfoundland before regaining Dieppe on July 8 and submitting a favorable report to the king. However, it is not until after that monarch is captured at the Battle of Pavia and compelled to sign the Treaty of Madrid on January 15, 1526, and then responds by forging the so-called Cognac or Clementine League on May 2-uniting France with Florence, Venice, Pope Clement VII, and eventually England-that another three-year round of fighting explodes and the first French corsairs actually strike out across the ocean to make at- tacks in the West Indies proper.

MARCH 1526. The 130-ton Spanish galleon San Gabriel of Rodrigo de Acuña, separated by storms from Juan Garci Jofre de Loaysa and Juan Sebastian de Elcano’s seven-ship expedition bound from La Coruña (Galicia) into the South Pacific via the Strait of Magellan, is attacked by three French vessels off  the coast of Brazil before anchoring off  Santa Catarina Island on March 26 to recuperate over the next few months.

LATE 1527. After touching at Puerto Rico, the English ship Mary of Guildford under the explorer John Rutt or Rout-who has previously visited Newfoundland and the North American shoreline in quest of the fabled Northwest Passage-arrives at the city of Santo Domingo to trade and is amiably received by the city’s Spanish inhabitants. However, after the authorities in the harbor castle fi re a round at Rutt’s anchored ship, he stands back out to sea, disembarking nearby a few days later with 30 or 40 armed men seeking to barter goods for provisions. When this request is refused, the Englishmen pillage a plantation and then depart.

SUMMER 1528. The French corsair vessel Sainte Anne out of La Rochelle, which is guided by the Portuguese pilot Diogo Ingenios and accompanied by a Spanish caravel seized off  Lanzarote in the Ca- nary Islands, traverses the Atlantic and appears near Margarita Island, then briefly seizes the pearl fisheries on June 24 at Cubagua (Venezuela).

Apparently, this same pair of raiders later attacks and sinks a Spanish caravel near Puerto Rico’s Cape Rojo on August 11 before sacking and torching the inland hamlet of San German at the mouth of the Añasco River the next day, then standing away back across the Atlantic by October. San German’s residents rebuild and fortify their hamlet.

AUGUST 3, 1529. In Europe, Franco-Spanish relations are temporarily patched up after a month of negotiations by the signing of the Treaty of Cambrai (known as the “Ladies’ Peace” because it is negotiated between Charles V’s aunt, Margaret of Austria, and the French queen mother, Louise of Savoy).

DECEMBER 3, 1530. Portugal Claims Brazil. Fearful of French designs upon Brazil, which include a few trading outposts that are already beginning to dot its coastline, King Joao III decides to supersede Portugal’s sporadic private eff orts to rescue Brazil by dispatching a royal expedition of two ships, two caravels, and a galleon bearing 400 men under his retainer Martim Afonso de Sousa and his brother Pero Lopes de Sousa.

This expedition arrives from Lisbon off  Pernambuco on January 31, 1531, and sights Cape Santo Agostinho the next day. Shortly thereafter, the Portuguese capture three French ships laden with rare woods and other Brazilian produce. The commodore thereupon detaches his subordinate Diogo Leite with two caravels to reconnoiter northeastward from Pernambuco, and Joao de Sousa is sent back to Europe with a report for the monarch; the main body departs southwestward by February 17 to continue its exploration. They enter Baia de Todos os Santos and encounter a long-time Portuguese resident named Diogo Alvares Correia, who has married a Paraguaçu woman and is known among the Indians as Cararmuru or the “God of Thunder.”

APRIL 30, 1531. At midday, de Sousa’s expedition enters Guanabara Bay-dubbed Rio de Janeiro three decades previously by Amerigo Vespucci-and because of its vast, sheltered expanse and abundant resources, the Portuguese explorer decides to pause and refresh his ships. A tiny fortification is erected beside his careening beach, and peaceable relations are established with the local Tamoio natives. When de Sousa finally departs on August 1, a small group of Portuguese remain behind, although this foothold will not prosper and is soon abandoned.

AUGUST 12, 1531. De Sousa’s expedition gains Cananéia Bay, where other Portuguese and Spanish ships are found lying at anchor. Also found is a decades-old resident named Cosme Fernandes, a Jewish convert and university graduate-hence referred to as the Bacharel or “Bachelor”-who was marooned by Vespucci’s expedition as long ago as January 22, 1502. He has since married a Carijo princess. There is also a deserter from Rodrigo de Acuña’s 1526 visit, named Francisco de Chavez.

Familiar with the native trade patterns, they in- form de Sousa of rich mines lying far up the Iguaçu River in Incan territory, so the commodore dispatches 40 harquebusiers and 40 crossbowmen up- stream on September 1 under Capt. Pero Lobo Pinheiro, along with native auxiliaries and with de Chavez as their guide-none of whom will ever return; they are instead lured out into the Parana River and massacred by tribal warriors. Unaware of their fate, de Sousa puts to sea again on September 26 to continue his reconnaissance as far southwest as the River Plate estuary.

JANUARY 8, 1532. Having wrecked his flagship, de Sousa’s depleted expedition returns into Cana- néia Bay to recuperate before setting out southward 10 days later to establish a permanent Portuguese colony at what is then known as the Porto do Escravos or “Slaves Port.”

Appearing outside its bar by January 20, de Sousa’s vessels cross over after two storm-tossed days to begin erecting a fort and town, from whence they hope to probe inland and finally reach the ephemeral mines of the Incas. This settlement is christened Sao Vicente-January 22 being St. Vincent’s feast day on the Church calendar.

MAY 12, 1532. Having departed from Sao Vicente to return to Portugal for more colonists, a squadron under Pero Lopes de Sousa learns of a 30-man French outpost recently installed on Itamaraca Island by the Marseillan privateer Jean Barrau du Perret, commander of the 120-ton Pelerine. He therefore interrupts his homeward passage to capture it after an 18-day siege and supplants this stronghold with a Portuguese garrison before proceeding out across the Atlantic.

OCTOBER 10, 1532. De Sousa leads a group of settlers inland from Sao Vicente guided by the Portuguese castaways Joao Ramalho and Antonio Rodrigues-they have married the daughters of the local Guiana tribal chieftains Tibiriças and Piquerobi and are therefore familiar with the terrain and trusted by the natives. Pushing through the dense man- groves along the Quilombo River Valley, they ascend the formidable Serra do Mar onto the Piratininga Plain to found a second outpost (which will eventually become the modern city of Sao Paulo).

JANUARY 1533. Joao de Sousa reaches Sao Vicente from Portugal, bringing letters from the king informing Martim Afonso de Sousa that he is to be relieved, but he is also to be rewarded with one of the 15 new “hereditary captaincies” into which Brazil will be divided, depending on whether he chooses to remain in the New World or return to Portugal.

MAY 1533. Martim Afonso de Sousa departs Sao Vicente, leaving his brother Pero in charge of his properties while he returns to Lisbon, where he will be promoted to governor general of the Portuguese East Indies.

Shortly before leaving Sao Vicente, Martim Afonso de Sousa learns of the annihilation of Pero Lobo’s lost expedition up the Iguaçu River, which he believes has been engineered by the Bacharel Cosme Fernandes and his Spanish associates. He therefore suggests to the acting military commander who is left behind-the mill owner and militia captain Pero de Gois da Silveira-that they be arrested.

SUMMER 1533. A body of Portuguese troops under Captain de Gois advances on Iguape to detain Fernandes, who has taken up residence there with his family near his Spanish-born friend Ruy Garcia Mosquera. Apprised of the Portuguese captain’s intent, the defenders rally their numerous retainers, other disgruntled residents, as well as some 150 native archers, and prepare to resist.

To better do so, Fernandes and Garcia Mosquera seize a French privateer anchored off Cananéia and land its artillery to prepare an ambush at a trench that they have dug, covering Icapara Bar outside Iguape (modern Trincheira Bay). De Gois’s disembarkation is therefore crushed, 80 of his troops being slain and himself wounded and captured, after which Fernandes and Garcia Mosquera use his ship to mount a destructive counterattack against Sao Vicente. They thereupon decamp beyond Portuguese jurisdiction, along with their followers.

French crossbowman of the Cartier-Roberval expedition in Canada.

MAY 10, 1534. The 42-year-old explorer Jacques Cartier arrives off Newfoundland with two ships and 61 men from Saint Malo (France), searching for the Northwest Passage to Asia. After charting part of what are today the shorelines of New Brunswick and Quebec, he returns to Europe by September 5.

AUGUST 9, 1535. Cartier returns to Newfoundland with his 120-ton flagship Grande Hermine, the 60-ton Petite Hermine, and the 40-ton Émerillon and penetrates the Saint Lawrence Seaway as far south- west as Hochelaga (modern Montreal) by October 2 before retiring to winter at the Saint Charles River mouth (modern Quebec City). Although disappointed at not discovering a passage all the way through to the Far East, the Frenchman is nonetheless convinced that this new territory is “rich and wealthy in precious stones,” so he kidnaps a dozen natives before weighing anchor on May 6, 1536, carrying them to Saint Malo by July 16. Cartier’s hope is to spark interest in this new land and thus be granted Crown permission to found a colony, which he mistakenly believes to be called Canada- actually the Huron-Iroquois word for “village.”

LATE AUTUMN 1535. Relations between Paris and Madrid again begin to deteriorate regarding disputes in Savoy and Milan, so numerous French corsairs begin taking up station off the western approaches to Spain and threatening returning ships- especially those bearing treasure from recently conquered Peru. As a result, the Spanish Crown orders the establishment of an armada de la guardia de la carrera de Indias or “guard fleet for the Indies route.”

FEBRUARY 1536. War officially erupts between France and Spain when the former occupies Savoy and penetrates the Piedmont, to which the latter replies in June by invading Provence.

NOVEMBER 1536. A lone French corsair vessel cuts out a Spanish ship anchored at Chagres (Panama).

JANUARY 1537. Emperor Charles V and King François I agree to a short-lived truce.

FEBRUARY 1537. Apparently the same single French corsair ship is sighted between Cartagena (Colombia) and Nombre de Dios (Panama), where it captures a Spanish merchantman near the latter port as it is arriving with a consignment of horses from Santo Domingo.

MARCH 15, 1537. This same French vessel materializes before Havana, prompting Gov. Gonzalo de Guzman to order three of five 200-ton Spanish merchantmen anchored in his port to sortie under Lt. Juan Velazquez. They overtake and trap the shallow- draught intruder inside the harbor at Mariel (then known as the “Puerto de Tablas”), only to run aground when the French vessel escapes out to sea, and so are boarded when this raider reverses course. Two of the Spanish prizes are burned and the third manned by the triumphant Frenchmen, who return before Havana to extort ransom from its hapless villagers. Other French trespassers are also sighted near Santo Domingo.

MAY 31, 1537. A French corsair vessel enters Santiago de Cuba’s harbor and carries off some merchantmen.

JUNE 14, 1537. A dozen Spanish warships and two caravels sortie from Seville under Capt. Gen. Blasco Nuñez Vela, becoming the first fleet of warships officially assigned to escort an outward-bound American convoy, reinforce garrisons throughout the Caribbean, lift the blockade of Havana, and then return to Spain.

OCTOBER 1537. A French ship and auxiliary out of Bayonne, bearing a total of 150 men, arrive off the Lesser Antilles to prowl the Spanish West Indies.

SPRING 1538. This pair of Bayonne ships raid Ocoa, Puerto Hermoso, and La Yaguana (modern Léogane, Haiti), bringing maritime traffic off Santo Domingo to almost a complete standstill.

APRIL 4, 1538. The large Bayonne ship pillages a Spanish brigantine exiting from Santiago de Cuba, then the next day penetrates its harbor and engages the caravel Magdalena of Diego Pérez as well as a small two-gun battery ashore. The shallow draught of Pérez’s craft allows him to gain the Frenchmen’s quarter, though, peppering the intruders with his four culverins from 11:00 a. m. until they finally withdraw an hour past midnight on April 6, having sustained about a dozen casualties. Three Spaniards die during this fray, and the French ship eventually exits Santiago Bay three days later.

MAY 1538. A French corsair ship appears near Havana and robs several houses and churches ashore. Upon learning of this attack at the island’s capital of Santiago de Cuba, 500 miles farther east-southeast, the new captain general, Hernando de Soto, dis- patches the military engineer Mateo Aceituno with 100 men. Within a few weeks of their arrival, they throw up the 6-gun fort, Castillo de la Fuerza, to guard Havana’s entrance channel (see “June 7, 1538” entry in “Expansion beyond Mexico”).

JUNE 1538. San German de Puerto Rico is sacked and burned by 80 French raiders from the Bayonne ship. During their retirement back toward their boats, they are overtaken during a rainstorm by 30 mounted Spaniards, who attack while the French- men’s powder is wet. Fifteen raiders are therefore killed and another three taken prisoner, who then are exchanged for San German’s looted church bells, plus other booty.

JUNE 15, 1538. In Europe, French and Spanish plenipotentiaries agree upon a 10-year truce negotiated at Nice by Pope Paul III, although it is some time before word of this cessation of hostilities reaches the New World.

EARLY JUNE 1540. French corsairs disembark from a single ship near San German de Puerto Rico, sacking and burning the town, along with its outlying district.

AUGUST 1540. A leaking, 400-ton English ship with a French pilot commandeers a Spanish merchantman laden with sugar and hides off Cape Tiburon (southwestern Haiti), setting its crew ashore before transferring aboard their prize. They then send their leaking vessel to the bottom and sail home in safety.

MAY 1541. As Franco-Spanish relations again be- gin to fray over differences regarding the succession in Milan, a 35-man French corsair ransacks a Spanish caravel off Puerto Rico. This same craft then sinks another victim off Mona Island before disembarking some men to loot ashore. It proceeds next to Cape de la Vela (Colombia) and robs a Spanish caravel of 7,000-8,000 ducats’ worth of pearls at Portete.

AUGUST 1541. Cartier returns to Canada with five ships, having brought an advance contingent of a few hundred settlers from France to establish a foothold for a new colony. The titular head of this enterprise-the impoverished, 41-year-old courtier Jean-François de La Rocque, Seigneur de Roberval-is to follow next year with many more colonists, hoping in the process to rebuild his fortune by serving as “lieutenant general of Canada” and exploiting its rich mineral deposits.

While awaiting his arrival, Cartier erects a small fort called Charlesbourg Royal at Cap Rouge, nine miles above present-day Quebec City, and explores the Saint Lawrence River until wintertime.

EARLY DECEMBER 1541. Thirteen well-armed French vessels ransack a Portuguese caravel off Guyana, then are joined by three other vessels to press deeper into the Caribbean and pillage the coastlines of Margarita Island, Curaçao, and the entrance to the Lake of Maracaibo (Venezuela).

JUNE 8, 1542. Roberval reaches Newfoundland with the ships Valentine, Sainte Anne, and Lechefraye, bringing 100 more French colonists to join Cartier at Charlesbourg Royal (Quebec). Instead, he is surprised to meet his subordinate in the Newfoundland harbor of Saint John’s. Cartier had earlier abandoned this advance foothold because of the harshness of the past winter and the hostility from the Iroquois. Cartier refuses Roberval’s order to return to Canada with him, instead continuing toward France with his own survivors.

Undismayed by Cartier’s disobedience, Roberval proceeds to Charlesbourg Royal and reestablishes that outpost, then begins exploring Canada. How- ever, although the population of his community is too numerous to be directly assaulted by the Indians, many of the French settlers are ill prepared to withstand the ensuing winter, and so they suffer cruelly from cold, famine, and disease. The next September (1543), they are retrieved by a rescue mission under Paul d’Austillon, Seigneur de Sauveterre, and France’s North American aspirations will be entirely forsaken for the next 60 years.

MID-JULY 1542. In Europe, tensions once more escalate between France and Spain, the Pyrenees becoming the scene of clashes one month later, followed by open declarations of war by both nations before the end of August.

FEBRUARY 1543. Two French ships and a small auxiliary attack San German de Puerto Rico, burning it and making off with four caravels lying in its harbor. A pair of Spanish galleons and two lateen- rigged caravels on the neighboring island of Santo Domingo are manned with 250 volunteers and set out in pursuit under Ginés de Carrion, captain of the galleon San Cristobal. Five days later he returns, having captured the enemy flagship and 40 of its crew, while sinking the smaller French consort.

Despite this victory, San German’s inhabitants are too frightened to return to their dwellings, preferring instead to relocate their town to Santa Maria de los Remedios in Guadianilla Bay (modern Guayanilla).

JUNE 16, 1543. Antillean Sweep. Five French corsair ships and a smaller consort bearing 800 men as- sault Venezuela’s Margarita Island, then the next month burn the once-rich pearl-fishing town of Nuevo Cadiz on adjoining Cubagua, whose population has already declined to scarcely 10 Spanish inhabitants because of the exhaustion of its pearl beds and the devastation suffered by a destructive hurricane on Christmas Day 1541. According to some Spanish sources, these raiders are commanded by Roberval (“Robertval” or “Roberto Baal”), but the French raiders may have borne commissions from him or been intending to visit his Canadian colony on their homeward leg.

JULY 16, 1543. Four of these same large French corsair vessels and a smaller consort arrive undetected before Santa Marta (Colombia), landing be- tween 400 and 500 men the next noon to occupy the port. They remain in possession for seven days, destroying everything of value before retiring with four bronze cannons and other booty.

JULY 24-25, 1543. Under cover of darkness, the French squadron-piloted into Cartagena’s bay by a Spanish turncoat embittered at a punishment received from Lt. Gov. Alonso Vejines-deposits 450 raiders ashore, who then carry this Colombian port with ease in a three-pronged attack. Its newly consecrated bishop, Fr. Francisco de Santamaria y Benavides, and an overawed populace surrender 35,000 pesos in specie, plus another 2,500 from the royal coffers, before the enemy withdraws. The next month, the raiders are anchored off Cape de la Vela, selling their booty to local residents.

SEPTEMBER 7, 1543. A single 20-man vessel detached from this same French squadron pillages a rich Spanish merchantman off Santiago de Cuba, then attempts a disembarkation, only to be repelled by its two-gun battery under Andrés Zamora. The raider emerges from the bay and proceeds westward, intending to reunite with its main force off Isla de Pinos. The French squadron, meanwhile, seizes five vessels in early October that are anchored off the new Spanish town of Santa Maria de los Remedios in Guadianilla Bay (modern Guayanilla), although the raiders are prevented from disembarking.

OCTOBER 31, 1543. The reunited, homeward- bound French squadron appears before Havana, disgorging more than 200 men at San Lazaro Inlet. Advancing across open country, the invaders are checked by fire from La Fuerza Fortress. They retreat toward their ships, leaving behind 20 dead. The rovers then depart the Caribbean altogether via the Straits of Florida.

SEPTEMBER 18, 1544. After an imperial army has fought its way to within sight of Paris, the Treaty of Crepy is signed in Europe, marking an end to this latest round of Franco-Spanish hostilities. Although François I has been constrained by this treaty to recognize Spain’s sovereignty in the Caribbean, some fighting will still persist in the New World. Cuba and Puerto Rico, in particular, continue to be harassed by French interlopers.

LATE OCTOBER 1544. Three French ships prowl past San Juan de Puerto Rico, landing at depleted San German to pillage and burn the town. Off Cape de la Vela (Colombia), another trio of French interlopers intercepts passing vessels; they also sell contra- band items to local Spanish citizens. 1545. Five French corsair vessels and a small auxiliary surprise the new Colombian port town of Riohacha (constituted only as of February 2), seizing five Spanish vessels lying in its roadstead. Unable to disembark, the raiders subsequently arrange a truce with its residents, eventually selling them 70 slaves. A similar visit by these same Frenchmen, albeit entirely peaceful, ensues at Santa Marta.


The Chevalier de Villegagnon

Nicolas Durand de Villegagnon was born at Provins in the Seine-et-Marne region of France sometime in 1510. His father was a local magistrate, who was ennobled a few years later. He died when Nicolas was only 11 years old. Nicolas was already adept at Latin, and his mother sent the young boy that same year to the Hotel de Auges in Paris. He studied at the religious schools of La Manche and Montaigu in preparation for the University of Paris. John Calvin was among his classmates.

Durand graduated from that university in 1530 with a law degree and was admitted to the bar at Orléans. But his attempt to find a post in the Parlement of Paris failed. As a result, he approached his uncle Philippe Villers de l’Isle-Adam, grand master of the Order of Saint John of Jerusalem, and was admitted into that order the next year, which had just been granted the island of Malta by King François I. (Although his proper name was Nicolas Durand, Seigneur de Villegagnon, this knighthood meant that he became more commonly known as “the Chevalier de Villegagnon.”)

Tall and athletic, the 21-year-old Villegagnon plunged into military and naval pursuits. In 1534, he served as an observer in the fleet gathered at Mallorca by the emperor Charles V to make an attempt against Tunis or Algiers. Six years later, he was sent to the French ambassador in Venice (incidentally befriending the poet François Rabelais). Villegagnon was given a letter from the French king to the Turkish sultan, Suleiman the Magnificent, and returned to Turin next year with his reply. He also presented François with diagrams of the duke of Milan’s forts.

Pleased with his services, the French government included Villegagnon among the 400 knights of Malta attached to Charles V’s expedition against Algiers in 1541. Although only an observer, Villegagnon was wounded by a lance thrust into his left arm. While convalescing in Rome, he published a brief account of this campaign in Latin. The next year, he was sent to Budapest to report on a clash between the emperor and the Turks. Villegagnon returned in time to take part in the French defeat of the Milanese at Cerisoles and was put in command of the castle at Ponte Stura until 1547.

That same summer, he was recalled by the new French king Henri II to sweep the Brittany coast of English raiders. Villegagnon then sailed his four galleys in 1548 around Scotland and up the River Clyde to Dumbarton Castle to bring away the six-year-old Mary, Queen of Scots. More sorties ensued against Scotland and Guernsey, until he was sent to Malta in 1551, which was besieged by the Turks. While bringing back word of the order’s victory, Villegagnon was briefly held in Cremona Castle by the Austrians.

Released thanks to the emperor, Villegagnon was appointed in September 1552 vice admiral of Brittany, with orders to fortify Brest against the English. While engaged in this work, he heard tales of Brazil, so made a discreet visit to Cabo Frio two summers later. He learned that the Portuguese avoided Guanabara Bay because of its hostile natives, so he decided to plant a colony there. Returning to France, he made a four-hour presentation before Henri and his mistress, Diane de Poitiers. The king agreed late in 1554, granting 11,000 livres toward this project. Villegagnon raised the rest from investors at Dieppe. However, his dream of a Utopian settlement in the New World ended bitterly. He died at Beauvais on January 9, 1571.

JANUARY 17, 1546. More than 100 French raiders under one “Hallebarde” disembark from a caravel and a smaller vessel. They ransack Baracoa in northeastern Cuba, scattering most of its inhabitants inland. The second of these Huguenot craft-after becoming separated in a storm-proceeds westward to Havana, where it extorts 700 ducats to spare its terrified citizenry’s dwellings.

APRIL 17, 1546. Hallebarde sneaks into Santi- ago de Cuba under cover of darkness, boarding a Spanish caravel at dawn that has recently arrived from Tierra Firme or the “Spanish Main” (modern Venezuela-Colombia). In little more than one hour, he carries this vessel out, with its crew still locked below decks, to loot at his leisure-an action described as “of great daring” by Gov.  Antonio de Chavez.

SPRING 1547. Two privately raised Spanish coast- guard caravels capture a French ship off Mona Island. JULY 25, 1547. Henri II ascends the throne of France.

SEPTEMBER 1547. A French ship approaches Santa Marta (Colombia) but retires when its 16- man boat crew is lured inshore and captured.

LATE MAY 1548. A French corsair vessel is sighted prowling off Santo Domingo.

AUGUST 1548. A French two-master sneaks into the harbor at Santa Marta under cover of darkness, and although crewed by only 40 men, sends a boarding party to seize Pedro Diaz’s merchantman in its roadstead. The next dawn, the rovers threaten to burn this prize if a ransom is not paid from the town. When local garrison commander Luis Manjarrés calls out his militiamen, the French bombard the town’s buildings throughout most of the day, killing two black slaves.

Shortly thereafter, these same attackers seize two Spanish caravels farther east off Cape de la Vela, as the caravels make from La Yaguana (modern Léo- gane, Haiti) toward Nombre de Dios. Both Spanish craft are robbed and scuttled.

NOVEMBER 1548. A trio of French vessels are seen prowling off San German de Puerto Rico, Mona Island, and Santo Domingo, allegedly wishing to trade, though the region’s Spanish inhabitants remain too mistrustful to oblige.

AUGUST 1549. A French corsair galliot, propelled by 18 oars per side, falls upon a homeward-bound Spanish convoy off Santo Domingo, cutting out a ship laden with sugar and hides, a caravel bearing 150 slaves, plus two smaller island traders.

NOVEMBER 1550. After pillaging a Spanish caravel off Dominica, the 80-man French ship Sacre of Bordeaux under Capt. Menjouin de La Cabane and a smaller consort attempt to snap up two stragglers from a nine-ship convoy off Santo Domingo; they are repelled by its warship escort. Unfazed, the rovers then descend upon La Yaguana (modern Léogane, Haiti) and rob a pair of Spanish vessels of 20,000 pesos. They make off with one ship as a prize, eventually sailing to Bayonne to dispose of their booty.

LATE DECEMBER 1551. The 42-year-old French Huguenot captain Guillaume Le Testu of Le Havre, sailing past the Island of Trinidade after exploring Argentina, Uruguay, and Brazil, clashes with two Portuguese ships, and his ship sustains heavy dam- age before winning free and returning to Europe.

APRIL 1552. With hostilities flaring up in Europe between France and Spain, various disembarkations are made by French corsairs on Puerto Rico and Santo Domingo, as well as interceptions of four Spanish merchantmen.

JUNE 18, 1552. A French ship becomes becalmed before Nombre de Dios; its 14-man crew is captured.

AUGUST 29, 1552. Three Spanish warships and an auxiliary, manned by 130 men-the coast-guard force for Hispaniola under Cristobal Colon y Toledo, Columbus’s 29-year-old grandson-are lost in a hurricane, along with 16 vessels anchored in Santo Domingo’s harbor.

SEPTEMBER 1552. A French corsair ship and smaller consort pillage a Spanish ship off Santo Domingo before retiring to Saona Island. These same French- men then return to Santo Domingo’s southeastern shore to make off with a ship recently launched at the Zoco River.

EARLY FEBRUARY 1553. A Spanish caravel serving as a dispatch vessel or aviso is taken by French rovers off Mona Island.

MARCH 1553. Le Clerc’s Sweep. A French squadron from Le Havre comprising the royal warships Claude under peg-legged Commo. François le Clerc (alias “Jambe de Bois” or “Pie de Palo”), Espérance under Jacques de Sores, and Aventureux under Robert Blondel arrive in the Antilles accompanied by three large and four small privateers, plus two Spanish prizes seized at Santa Cruz de la Palma in the Canaries. They bear a total of 800 men with which to raid Spain’s West Indian outposts.

San German de Puerto Rico, Mona and Saona islands, and Azua are attacked in quick succession before Le Clerc deposits a large landing force on April 29 to sack Monte Cristi on northern Santo Domingo and then La Yaguana (modern Léogane, Haiti), after which the rovers stand back toward Puerto Rico. Spanish residents among the islands feel powerless to resist, for not only are four of these French craft galliots “whose oars ensure none can escape


” but half their total complement consists of harquebusiers. Laden with hides, sarsaparilla, and other booty, the French raiders make a final descent upon Santiago de Cuba before exiting the Caribbean in late May.

MARCH 1554. Having reentered the West Indies the previous month, three French ships under Le Clerc and Sores appear before San Juan de Puerto Rico, and on Palm Sunday-March 18-they raid more than three miles inland near San German. Afterward, they take up station off Saona Island, intercepting Spanish vessels, then later switch their base of operations to Mona Island.

APRIL 29, 1554. Off Cabo Frio (Brazil), the French ship Marie Bellotte of Dieppe captures a Portuguese vessel.

JULY 1, 1554. Destruction of Santiago de Cuba. Le Clerc’s subordinate, the Huguenot corsair Sores of La Rochelle, leads four ships and four smaller auxiliaries into Santiago de Cuba harbor under cover of darkness and slip 300 men ashore; they fall upon its sleeping residents and occupy the city without resistance. Bishop Fernando de Uranga and a half- dozen other prominent citizens are subsequently held hostage for almost a month and a half, until a ransom of 80,000 pesos can be raised. The French thereupon destroy Santiago’s fortress and burn several buildings before retiring on August 16, sparing the church in exchange for all its silver plate.

LATE AUGUST 1554. The French privateers Barbe and Marguerite under Vincent Bocquet of Dieppe, recently arrived in the West Indies, espy five large merchantmen and nine caravels off San German de Puerto Rico who have departed Santo Domingo around August 20 for Spain. Patiently tracking them across the Atlantic for more than 40 days, as far as the Azores, Bocquet finally seizes the caravel Tres Reyes Magos of the master Benito Garcia when it becomes becalmed early in October, along with the Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe of Alonso Gonzalez and the Santiago of Diego Marin. The Santa Catalina of Francisco Morales Camacho is furthermore ransacked before sinking, while the Maria of Francisco Hernandez de Leon, the San Andrés of Alonso Cano, and the San Juan of Rodrigo Madera all run aground in the Azores and lose most of their cargoes. The triumphant rovers return home ladened with gold, cochinilla, and pearls, leaving the shrunken remnants of this Spanish convoy to limp into Cadiz by December 7.

OCTOBER 1554. French blockaders encircle the entrance of Santiago de Cuba.

French sweeps through the Caribbean in 1555.

MARCH 1555. Three French ships disembark 150 men on southern Cuba, who march inland and burn Sancti Spiritus.

JULY 10, 1555. Sack of Havana. At dawn, two sails are spotted near this port, piloted by a Spanish renegade. They disgorge several score corsairs a mile and a half away at San Lazaro Inlet, under the Huguenot leader Sores. They advance inland and take Havana’s 12-gun Fuerza battery from the rear, burning its wooden door to gain access, and thereby compelling its two-dozen defenders under alcaide Juan de Lobera to surrender by sunup of July 12. The French then occupy the town and bring four vessels into its harbor to careen.

While in possession of Havana, Sores demands a ransom of 30,000 pesos, bread, and meat in ex- change for sparing its buildings, plus 500 pesos for every Spanish captive that he holds and 100 for each slave. Instead, Gov. Dr. Pérez de Angulo (who has managed to escape into the interior) launches a surprise assault at dawn of July 18 with 35 Spanish, 220 black, and 80 Indian volunteers, only to have this attack repelled; the startled French corsairs slaughter their 30 Spanish prisoners (all except Lobera).

The next morning, a wrathful Sores hangs numerous slaves by their heels at prominent places along Havana’s outskirts, using them for target practice in a brutal gesture intended to discourage any further Spanish assaults. His men then level the town and buildings throughout its surrounding countryside up to five miles inland before finally retiring back out to sea on August 5 with the fort’s 12 cannons.

AUGUST 1555. French Huguenots land at Santa Marta, sacking and burning its churches.

SEPTEMBER 30, 1555. A boatload of 12 French raiders from Guy Mermi’s trio of ships-anchored off Mariel (Cuba)-cut out a Spanish caravel laden with hides.

OCTOBER 4, 1555. Mermi’s trio of French ships penetrates Havana’s harbor, landing 50 men to occupy its town. Discovering it to be still defenseless since Sores’s raid in July, they are followed within a few days by at least a dozen other intruders, who rest their crews and careen their vessels. Foraging parties probe inland, securing some commercial booty-principally hides-before putting back out to sea some three weeks later. This same month, a French assault also occurs at Puerto Plata in northern Santo Domingo.

OCTOBER 25, 1555. In Europe, the emperor Charles V abdicates, dividing his territories between his son, who becomes Philip II of Spain and Sicily, and his brother Maximilian, who becomes the new Holy Roman Emperor.

NOVEMBER 10, 1555. Villegagnon in Brazil. Two well-armed vessels arrive outside Rio de Janeiro’s uninhabited Guanabara Bay (known to the French as Iteronne or Geneve), having departed Dieppe on August 14 with a mixed group of 600 Calvinists and Catholics under 45-year-old Nicolas Durand, Seigneur de Villegagnon, knight commander of the Order of Saint John of Malta and vice admiral of Brittany, who is bearing orders from Adm. Gaspar de Chatillon, Comte de Coligny, to found a new settlement in this region to be called France Australe or “Southern France” (also France Antarctique or “Antarctic France”).

His colonists disembark on Ratier (modern Laje) Island, then transfer northwest on November 13 to nearby Sergipe Island, the name of which is in the process of being changed to Villegagnon (modern Villegaignon Island). Atop this island, they erect a redoubt named Fort de Coligny, with a smaller two-gun battery commanding its channel. A town named Henryville is also founded, and a couple of relatively prosperous years ensue, with the settlers planting crops and enjoying peaceable relations with their Tamoio and Tupinamba neighbors.

The Portuguese governor general Duarte da Costa at Salvador (Bahia) is informed early the next year by Sao Vicente’s regional governor Bras Cubas about this French toehold, but the former treats the report dismissively, believing the foreigners’ presence to be merely a transitory shore camp set up by rovers. Upon realizing its permanent nature, though, King Joao III has his ambassador Joao Pereira Dantas lay protests before the government in Paris and on July 23, 1556, appoints the energetic Mem de Sa to replace the Brazilian governor general. Mem de Sa takes ship from Lisbon in late April 1557 but is slowed by a difficult Atlantic crossing.

The French colonists, in the meantime, have been reinforced on February 26, 1557, by a second expedition of three ships under the flagship Rosée that brings an additional 18 cannon and 300 people under Villegagnon’s nephew Paris Legendre, Sieur de Bois le Compte le Meaux. Religious dissension, however, also arrives with this second contingent, eventually fracturing the colony’s harmony and prompting Villegagnon to revert to Catholicism. A group of Calvinist dissidents departs aboard the old ship Jacques on January 4, 1558, followed by Villegagnon himself in October 1559-four months be- fore Mem de Sa’s first Portuguese descent.

EARLY 1556. A lone French vessel raids Santa Marta, Cabo de la Vela, Puerto Plata, Havana, and Margarita Island.

FEBRUARY 5, 1556. In Europe, a truce-the Treaty of Vaucelles-is arranged between France and Spain, which is meant to endure for five years but promptly begins to break down when the French monarch Henri II sends troops under Henri, Duc de Guise, to Italy that same spring in support of the anti-Spanish machinations of Pope Paul IV.

SPRING 1556. Capt. Guillaume Mesmin of La Rochelle appears in the Antilles with a large ship and smaller auxiliary, manned by 150 men in total, and seizes a Spanish ship that becomes wrecked on Bermuda during its homeward passage.

SUMMER 1556. A couple of skirmishes occur off Jamaica, as its local Spanish authorities succeed in capturing a few French smugglers who have come to trade.

SPRING 1557. Hispano-French warfare resumes openly in Europe, with an army invading France and defeating the forces of Henri II outside St. Quintin by August 19.

NOVEMBER 17, 1557. On orders from the Crown directed to Chile’s governor Jeronimo de Aldunate, the Spanish seaman Juan Fernandez Ladrillero sets sail from the port of Concepcion with his ship San Luis and the San Sebastian under Francisco Cortés de Ojeda to chart the Strait of Magellan. A storm separates the vessels on February 15, 1558, the latter being lost and its crew extemporizing a craft from their wreckage named San Salvador, aboard which they regain Valdivia by October 1. Fernandez Ladrillero has meanwhile struggled into the strait’s western entrance by late July 1558, charting much of its shorelines before reemerging early in March 1559, returning into Valdivia by mid-June.

JANUARY 1558. After a storm-tossed Atlantic voyage, Mem de Sa finally reaches Salvador (Bahia) to assume office as Brazil’s new governor general. His first task is to dispatch his son Fernao de Sa to assist Capt. Vasco Fernandes Coutinho at Espirito Santo, as well as to travel himself to Ilhéus, as both captaincies are in the grip of native unrest.

SPRING 1558. French corsairs renew their West Indian depredations, and the Spanish merchantman Ascension of Capt. Bernaldino Rizo is taken off Saona Island. Four French ships out of Bayonne and Saint-Jean-de-Luz also sack Puerto Caballos (modern Puerto Cortés, Honduras).

JUNE 1558. French vessels appear within Santiago de Cuba’s vast harbor, occupying its desolated town for 10 to 12 days before receiving a meager ransom of 400 pesos, then departing.

EARLY 1559. Seven French corsair vessels under Jean Martin Cotes and Jean Bontemps appear off Santa Marta (Colombia), taking a small amount of booty, against token opposition. APRIL 3, 1559. In Europe, the Treaty of Cateau-Cambrésis is signed between Philip II of Spain and Henri II of France, marking an end to the Habsburg- Valois Wars.

Spanish 3rd Class Gunboats

Gunboats “General Blanco” and “Lanao”

Gunboat “General Blanco”

Gunboat General Blanco. Midsection cross-section frame (drawn by one of the crew)

The Spanish Empire, once the greatest in the world, largely disappeared during the Napoleonic era, leaving only a few colonies in Africa (Morocco), the West Indies (Puerto Rico and Cuba), and the Pacific Ocean (the Philippines and smaller island groups, among them the Carolines and Marianas). During the latter years of the 19th century, anticolonial movements emerged in the most important of Spain’s possessions, the Philippines and Cuba. Spain’s Restoration Monarchy, which had been established in 1875, decided to put down these insurgencies rather than grant either autonomy or independence. The Spanish Army crushed the first outbreaks, the Ten Years’ War (1868-1878) in Cuba, and the First Philippine Insurgency (1896-1897).

Spain attempted to gain support from the great powers of Europe but failed to do so. The nation had no international ties of importance, having followed a policy of isolation from other nations during many years of internal political challenges, notably the agitation of Carlists, Basques, Catalonians, and other groups. Wide- spread domestic unrest raised fears of revolution and the fall of the Restoration Monarchy. Given these domestic challenges, Spain did not involve itself in external affairs. The European powers, preoccupied with great issues of their own including difficulties with their own empires, refused to help Spain, having no obligations and no desire to earn the enmity of the United States. Bereft of European support, Spain had to fight alone against a formidable enemy.

Popular emotions influenced the Madrid government to some extent; many Spaniards believed that the empire had been God’s gift as a reward for the expulsion of the Moors from Europe and believed that no Spanish government could surrender the remaining colonies without dishonoring the nation. War seemed a lesser evil than looming domestic tumult.

GENERAL BLANCO Class gunboats

These steel-hulled vessels were built in 1895-96 at Cavite for service in the Philippines against the insurgents. They were built in lieu of the series of torpedo-boats that were originally planned in the 1887 shipbuilding program.

The vessels of the GENERAL BLANCO class are as follows:


    60 tons, 11 knots., Armament: 1 x 42mm/42cal quick-fire gun, 1 machine gun.

    The vessel was named for General Blanco, who served as general-governor of the Philippines at the time, prior to being sent to Cuba, where he spent the Spanish American War.

    Career: She was built for service on Lanao lake.

    Details and fate are unknown.

LANAO (1895)

    60 tons, 11 knots, Armament: 1 x 42mm/42cal quick-fire gun, 1 machine gun.

    The vessel was named for a lake on the Philippine island of Mindanao.

    Career: She was built for service on Lanao lake.

    Details and fate are unknown.

Specifications: General Blanco, Lanao

General Blanco launched 8/18/1895

Lanao launched 9/22/1895

Displacement 65 tons

Dimensions (length × width × bead height × draft) 25.0 × 4.8 × 2.0 × 1.3 metres

Powerplant 2 propeller shafts, 20 kW

Speed 11 knots

Range 1200 miles (coal 7 tons)

Armament 1 – 42mm, 2 (1 on Lanao) – 25mm, 2 – 11mm mitrailleuse

Crew 29

U.S. Navy (ex-Spanish) gunboat Villalobos

American Gunboat Operations, Philippine Islands

Following the Battle of Manila Bay on May 1, 1898, U. S. Navy ships blockaded Manila until army forces could arrive. In August, army troops captured the city. Over the next five months, gunboats helped U. S. troops seize key positions around the islands. When the Philippine-American War began in February 1899, naval gun- fire helped repulse Filipino attacks on Manila. In the insurgency that followed, U. S. Navy gunboats provided essential mobility to American troops and played a vital role in winning the Philippine- American War. Indeed, gunboats were absolutely essential during an insurgency that theoretically spanned some 7,000 islands and 500,000 square miles of terrain.

Rear Admiral George C. Remey, who commanded the Asiatic Squadron, deployed its gunboats and other small warships to four patrol zones: one on the island of Luzon; the second on the islands of Panay, Mindoro, Palawan, and Occidental Negros; the third on the Moro country of the Sulu group and southern Mindanao; and the last one on the Visayas group composed of Cebu, Samar, Leyte, Bohol, Oriental Negros, and northern Mindanao from the Straits of Surigao to the Dapitan Peninsula. Some gunboats patrolled as far away as Borneo and China to cut off arms shipments to the Filipino guerrillas.

The gunboats patrolled Philippine waters to isolate Filipino forces on individual islands and interdict the flow of arms and supplies to them. The gunboats also supported ground operations with fire- power, escorted troop transports, covered landings, and evacuated endangered garrisons. Ships, particularly the army’s improvised troop transports, frequently ran aground, and gunboats then helped pull them free, frequently under hostile fire. At night, gunboats sailed deep behind insurgent lines, landing and retrieving scouts who reported on enemy positions and strength. The gunboats maintained communication with scattered army and marine garrisons and mobile columns and delivered their supplies, pay, and mail.

To supplement its meager forces, the navy seized 13 former Spanish gunboats and converted yachts and other small civilian craft to naval service. Most of these gunboats, particularly the converted yachts, were of small size. They averaged about 90 feet in length and carried a variety of weapons including 1-, 2-, and 3- pounder guns; 37-millimeter cannon; Colt and Gatling guns, and various small arms. Among them, however, were a few heavily armed warships such as the Petrel, an 892-ton, 176-foot gunboat armed with four 6-inch guns that earned it the nickname “Baby Battleship.” A landing force from the Petrel seized the important port of Cebu in the first weeks of the war.

Despite the acquisition of Spanish and converted civilian ships, the navy could rarely deploy more than two dozen gunboats to patrol the thousands of islands and numerous navigable rivers of the Philippines. Dispersed across the islands, gunboats generally operated singly or in pairs.

Fairly typical of gunboat operations were the final campaigns to secure the island of Samar. Despite earlier campaigns there, including a celebrated effort by Major Littleton W. T. Waller and 300 marines, Filipino insurgents continued to operate on Samar, eluding U. S. forces in its dense jungle and mountainous terrain. In January and February 1902, the gunboats Frolic and Villalobos carried soldiers on a series of raids on Samar that yielded valuable intelligence and led to the capture of Filipino commander Vicente Lukban. Four more gunboats arrived in March, and these allowed their commander, Lieutenant Commander Washington I. Chambers, to blockade the island, cutting off vital supplies to the insurgents, particularly food, which Samar imported from neighboring islands. In April, Chambers’s squadron embarked the troops of Brigadier General Frederick D. Grant and carried them deep into the island along its rivers. These forces overran the insurgents’ main camp and harried them across the island in a three-week campaign that forced their surrender, ending the war on Samar two months before the official proclamation of peace on July 4, 1902.

As the war wound down, the navy shifted gunboats to other operations. Some worked to suppress the slave trade among the Moros in the Sulu archipelago, southern Mindanao, and southern Palawan. Others hunted pirates in Philippine and Chinese waters. Gunboats thus played a vital role in the Philippine-American War. Without them, conquest of the Philippines might well have been impossible.

The English Armada: Battles at Sea I

Engraving of the galley of the Adelantado of Castile, Royal Palace (Palacio Real), Madrid.

A gentle breeze was blowing as dawn broke on Monday, 19 June, and so the Adelantado of Castile ‘set out that morning with nine ships in pursuit of the enemy fleet, which was coming round Cape Saint Vincent’. As the ships sailed out, ‘they encountered a French vessel that was fleeing from the Armada with seventy Englishmen on board; the French were allowed to take everything off them, which they did in such a way that they almost skinned them alive’. That is how the tragic withdrawal of the English Armada began, and as we shall see, their losses were just as great as during the Spanish Armada. Stripped and with their bodies lacerated by their French captors, these Englishmen were the first of what was to become an almost unmanageable number of prisoners that soon gave the Spaniards some serious logistical problems.

Later that same day, ‘a Flemish store ship appeared out at sea and the Adelantado sent across Don Francisco Coloma and Don Juan Puertocarrero with their galleys. They found about fifty Englishmen who were readily handed over by the Flemish without a struggle. Both this ship and the French vessel were allowed to sail for Lisbon.’ Not a great deal was gleaned from interrogating the Englishmen. ‘It was understood from the English that the fleet was heading for Cádiz, and in view of that the Adelantado asked permission from the Cardinal Archduke to take all his galleys to stop the enemy. His Highness granted the request provided that he did not take more than nine of his galleys.’ And so as night fell on Monday, 19 June 1589, the fearless Padilla stayed on course with his nine galleys in pursuit of the English. At the same time, in Lisbon, fifteen caravels with extra men and munitions were being made ready in order to reinforce the strategically important Azores. It is clear that day by day the Spanish recovery was taking shape at the same time that the defeat of the English was being planned, although, as will be seen, adverse winds prevented the reinforcement flotilla for the Azores from setting sail immediately.

The oars of the galley slaves followed the unvarying rhythm set by the overseer. Stroke after stroke the blades of the oars emerged from the water, were turned in the air and then thrust in the water once more. For its part, the gentle northerly breeze helped the galleys’ oarsmen along as they blindly pursued their objective through the darkness of the night. There were only two cannons mounted at the prow and two at the stern on these ships, as there was no room at the sides because of the oars and the low clearance above the level of the sea. However, these cannons had been carefully chosen from among the reinforced culverins of the period. They were long-range cannons and, when fired from under five hundred metres, were very accurate, effective and had great destructive force. In addition, over short distances the power of the muskets and harquebuses could wipe out the decks, topsails, upper decks and embrasures of enemy ships. In this way,

with these nine galleys he [Padilla] went in pursuit of the enemy but without any sight of him, and three hours before daybreak he found himself in the middle of the Armada. To confirm that was where he was, he sent an Englishman, Captain Eduardo Grecio, in a skiff to talk to the nearest ship, where they told him that they were not following the Admiral. From this conversation it was clear that this was the whole fleet and they had been among them without the enemy realizing it until dawn.

So dawn on 20 June found the nine galleys in the middle of the scattered English Armada. It was time to intercept the stragglers, and so Padilla placed his ship like a wedge between them and the rest of the fleet. Sure enough, ‘the Adelantado endeavoured to position himself on the right side of the wind and once he had done so he captured all the ships that were out of position. With his galley he attacked three large supply ships, a tender and a barge and other galleys came to his assistance, especially that of Don Juan Puertocarrero.’ For its part ‘La Patrona, with Don Andrés de Atienza on board, took a supply ship together with La Peregrina, Serena, Leona, Palma, and Florida, and these two stayed with it until it was set alight.’ And so, one by one, the ships that had become separated from the fleet fell into Padilla’a hands.

For his part, Alonso de Bazán ‘attacked a ship from Plymouth which had fallen behind and in the boarding of the ship that followed its Captain Caverley was killed with most of his men. Two other straggling ships were attacked and sunk by the galleys. In one of them Captain Minshaw and his crew fought heroically until they disappeared engulfed in flames.’ There is a different report concerning the fate of Captain Caverley, which gives him as a prisoner, for ‘having abandoned his ship, he escaped in a small boat and was then captured’. Several documents record Bazán’s attack. This is how John Evesham describes it:

On the morning of the 20th and with the sea in a state of calm eight galleys headed in a windward direction towards us and attacked two of our small ships that were said not to have been able to defend themselves due to a lack of gunpowder and munitions. However, as far as I know and thanks to God’s assistance these two escaped. Then the galleys attacked two other small ships head on and upwind and they were caught and set alight and the survivors taken prisoner. In addition, I was told that the William, commanded by Mr Hawkins of Plymouth, whose men, so I heard, sailed off in a small boat, was set fire to two or three times, although the fire went out. Then the Admiral arrived and with one cannon shot ensured that the galleys left him alone. But they pursued the small boat in order to capture the men and although they failed to do so they sank it and all the men drowned. And the (the word ‘burnt’ is struck out) boat was sunk by our own men because there were not enough men to sail it.

Other documents and writers recorded these attacks by the galleys. For example, the Spanish press described it thus:

And so on the morning of the nineteenth of June [the Adelantado] sailed out with nine ships in pursuit of the enemy fleet, which was coming round Cape St. Vincent, and before any encounter they met up with a further six galleys that joined forces with them, and when they came across the enemy fleet they used their cannons against them on the twentieth and the twenty-fifth of June, for there was little wind and they were able to do a great deal of damage. They set fire to three ships, while others said five, they sank two others and took prisoners from them all, causing a lot of damage to the remainder but without the galleys incurring any serious damage in return.

The Portuguese press referred to three sunk and two set on fire. Cabrera de Córdoba wrote of four sunk and an unspecified number of ships burnt. Juan de Arquellada mentions seven sunk or set ablaze, while Duro had four sunk by the Adelantado and three set on fire by Alonso de Bazán. Hume wrote of three sunk or captured and one burnt. More recently, Kelsey wrote of five or six ships lost. However, apart from González-Arnao, no attention was paid to the fate of the ships captured earlier by the English Armada in Cascais, which had come to form part of the fleet. In summary, on 19 June, two of the merchant vessels seized by Drake and manned by captured crewmen were released. One of them, the French one, made its own way to join the galleys. On 20 June, another four supply ships, also with English crewmen, were captured, and in addition most probably a tender and a barge from among the vessels seized by Drake. Between three and five English ships of low-tonnage – the most numerous by far in the English fleet – were also destroyed and others were damaged, a total of between nine and eleven ships and two smaller craft. About seven hundred Englishmen were taken out of action, of whom one hundred and thirty survived the attacks and were taken prisoner.

On 20 June 1589, the Spanish finally achieved what had been denied them ten months earlier: boarding English ships. The galleys, old-world Mediterranean vessels, had as their main weapon a sharp ram which punched into the hull of enemy ships and acted as a boarding bridge. Galleys were attack ships driven by the strength of the galley slaves or oarsmen and the courage of the soldiers on board. The galley slaves were prisoners of war, men sentenced by law or volunteers called buenas bollas (‘good loaves’) because they were better fed. Artillery was mounted on the bow and aimed by steering the whole ship. Propelled by oar and sail, they were more mobile than the heavy galleons, and if there was no wind they could get behind them and bombard them or board them, as happened at Cape Espichel.

While the rearguard was under attack, the rest of the fleet, far from coming to their aid, took advantage of the fact that the Spanish were distracted by their prey and they made their getaway. The English and the Spanish were unanimous in their contempt for Drake’s extremely unhappy position at this time. In a letter on 20 July, the Adelantado explained:

Even though there was little wind, it helped them to crowd together and take refuge, and the cowardice shown by the whole fleet was a sight to see. And it is clear that in this and in what the prisoners say about the hail of bullets that rained down upon them, this was the work of God to rid these heretics of their pride.

Fenner would not have disagreed with this description by Padilla, for he called the resistance which they met as ‘shameful’.

Padilla treated the crew of the support ships well, as indicated in his letter: ‘Some of the officers and sailors of the Flemish and German ships that were seized will be set free because they were taken by the enemy by force and brought to Spain. I do so without expecting anything in return and I will give them payment because it is desirable to have them willingly serve Your Majesty.’ Returning to the naval operations, ‘the two largest supply ships were set on fire within range of Drake’s cannons and the same action was taken with the other ships, but it wasn’t as effective and one was sunk by the artillery of the flagship’. Meanwhile,

Drake’s flagship and another large flagship carrying the infantry general, together with some other large ships, were trying to regroup their fleet, which they were all so eager to do that it required little effort. All five ships mentioned took part in the fighting, and the remaining vessels nearby assisted them with artillery, especially the flagship, which was being towed by two well-armed barges.

Losses in the galleys were surprisingly few, for ‘in all the galleys there were no more than two dead and up to seventy wounded, the best known of these a son of Juan Ruiz de Velasco’. The explanation for the satisfactory part played by the galleys is explained as follows: ‘The speed with which our harquebuses and artillery operated was of great importance and did not allow the enemy to get into the fight. The enemy’s artillery caused no damage to the galleys, although some bullets did reach the flagship and other vessels.’ That campaign of attrition against the defeated English Armada ended in the early afternoon, for ‘the fighting lasted from dawn until two hours after midday, when the galleys withdrew to rest a while in view of the fact that the enemy had regrouped’.

It was fear of the galleys that led to the dispersal of the fleet. Evesham wrote of this fear in his account: ‘So we two did bear in as near Bayona as we durst for fear of the galleys.’ Later the wind allowed the English to move away from the coast:

At five in the afternoon the enemy sailed so far from the coast that scarcely a ship could be seen, and at this the Adelantado went round Cape St. Vincent to take on water because the galleys were in need of it, and there he waited until the enemy went past, as it would have to do if it was heading for Cádiz.

It was impossible to discover the intentions of the English Armada from the nine prisoners taken during that morning. In fact,

Captains, Sub-lieutenants, English gentlemen and an engineer were taken. They were asked many questions about the destination of the fleet and they all said different things and they all agreed that no-one knows but they suspect that it is heading for Cádiz. Others said that the Infantry General will be returning to England with the whole fleet, and Drake, with Dom António on board, is going with forty of the best ships to the Islands and the Indies. On the one hand they are on the right track to go to the Islands and for the fleet to go to England, and on the other hand it seems that if they had to go (to England) they should have gone from Cascais when the Dutch and Zealand and La Rochelle ships were allowed to go.

In any event, Padilla was not far off the mark when he gave his opinion on the matter: ‘I also believe that their lack of personnel, due to the number they have lost and those who have died and are dying from disease, means that it is quite likely that they have to return.’

What was learned from these prisoners was the fleet’s total lack of provisions:

They said that if they hadn’t seized the wheat-carrying ships that were heading for Lisbon, they would have left their men in Portugal without letting them on board, because they had nothing to give them. Now they have to manage with gruel made from flour and boiled wheat, and more of them fall ill every day. But the ones who get this to eat are the soldiers; the sailors are much better fed.

We do not know how much in these statements is accurate, but they are symptomatic of the malaise and demoralization that had passed through the fleet from one ship to the next. It has already been mentioned that the little food there was, was kept for Drake’s sailors. This fact is significant. The proportion of sailors was already low when the English set sail, but now, after so many setbacks and so much time at sea, packed together without even basic conditions of hygiene and with disease rife on the ships’ decks, the scarcity of sailors began to be a determining factor, as will later become quite clear.

Moreover the prisoners were also aware of the desperate attempts by Drake to secure assistance from the Muslims as promised: ‘They said that Drake sent eight ships to Barbary with an ambassador of the Sharif who came while the fleet was in Cascais.’ This information was corroborated in part, for ‘the three galleys that had just arrived from Cádiz brought news that they went round Cape St. Vincent’. Padilla independently drew his own conclusions: ‘The Sharif will deceive him, as he does with all those who have dealings with him.’ But what really moved the Adelantado of Castile was the sight of the state to which the monastery of Santo Antonio had been reduced after the English had passed through: ‘Next to Cascais there is a monastery of discalced monks called Santo Antonio and its heartless neighbours broke up the altar and the choir and did some further minor damage, and it grieved me greatly to see it.’ Padilla was so affected by the sight of it that in his letter to the King, he added:

And I vowed to God and to the Saint that if I am successful against those heretics, I would endeavour to persuade Your Majesty to restore it to its previous state, and if not, I would pay for it myself. May it please Your Majesty to perform this kind act, because I feel that it would be most pleasing to Our Lord.

However, the destruction of the monastery was but a prior warning of the state in which the Iberians would find Cascais.

The military operations on 20 June exacerbated a problem that would get even worse days later and that was the matter of the growing number of prisoners:

Since I have been in charge of these galleys some prominent captains have been taken and held on board, in addition to some important French corsairs, and amongst the English that were taken on the 20th there are also, as I have indicated, some men of standing, so that all told there is a significant number of them and we have to keep a constant eye on them. I ask Your Majesty to command that we be given assurances that they will be placed somewhere where they are no longer our concern, and to determine the treatment that shall be given to the English. They will be given rations like the sailors, whether they are rowers or not. In my opinion this could be justified for those who have been captured since the war started and they can be given these rations for as long as they remain on the galleys, and unless Your Majesty orders otherwise, they will be given volunteer rations. They are dying off quite quickly, thereby leaving fewer of them for us to deal with.

This terrible commentary indicates the virulence of the disease that took hold among the English expedition.

The action on the morning of 20 June brought about the dispersal of the English Armada with a good number of ships going off course. Thereafter it became difficult to continue to follow the path taken by the fleet which was now largely broken up and dispersed. This situation has been attributed to Drake’s inexperience or ineptitude in managing large fleets, for due to the way he acted he exacerbated the damage inflicted by the galleys on the English Armada, even though initially it was limited because the Spanish galleys were few in number. Drake did not give sufficient priority to ordering the fleet to divide into five squadrons, as had been agreed in Plymouth. On the contrary, the pirate-cum-admiral, possibly unduly influenced by the laxity of piracy when commanding his ships, allowed the Spanish attack to create widespread chaos among the considerable number of English vessels because of his neglect. That is when he lost track of many of them and they were lost forever. One of these was the Gregory from London. On 20 June, this ship was fired on by the galleys and could no longer keep up with the fleet. Or the case of William Fenner, with his flagship of the recently arrived reinforcement squadron, which became detached from the fleet after the attack by the galleys and, in desperation, had to head to Madeira where it would later meet up with other ships.38 In any event, the first squadron of the fleet to set sail, which included Essex, the Dutch and the sick among others, gained the open sea before the attack by the galleys and managed to head north. They were sighted a few days later off the coast of Galicia.

In spite of everything, following the attack by the galleys the majority of the fleet gradually managed to reassemble and so ‘on Tuesday the 20th, at three in the afternoon, they reappeared above Cape Espichel and the town of Sesimbra, whereupon the Duke of Aveiro took up arms in Setúbal, where Your Highness had ordered him, and very bravely and diligently prepared to resist’. All that Drake could do with the calm waters and the westerly breezes was to bring his ships together and wait for favourable winds. The English Armada could no longer undertake any action of significance and their situation grew worse by the day. Moreover, they could no longer land on that coast due to the maximum alert ordered by the Duke of Aveiro, ‘with most captains having arms at the ready for any surprise attack’.

But with the English fleet now at sea, the Iberians focused on Peniche, where five hundred men of the garrison that Norris had assigned on 28 May to provide cover if required were still waiting, with growing unease, for a rescue flotilla to enable them to get away. But amid the chaos and dispersion caused by the galleys and the sea conditions, the rescue ships did not appear. Hence, ‘so that they could attack the enemy in Peniche and take their artillery and prevent them from doing further damage … Dom Martinho quickly wrote to His Highness and to the Counts Fuentes and Vila de Orta’. In this way, ‘that same day (20th) Don Pedro de Guzmán and Don Sancho Bravo set out with their mounted harquebusiers and horsemen under Gaspar de Alarcón, and four hundred harquebusiers with Captains Castillo and Ocampo, heading for Peniche where the enemy had left five hundred men’. That march from Lisbon had to proceed at the pace of the infantry, so that it inevitably took them some time to reach Peniche.

The English Armada: Battles at Sea II

Map: 25 May–20 June, Lisbon.

1.25 May. A council of war held off Peniche where it is decided to undertake an expedition on land, ruling out a naval attack on Lisbon on 26 May. Difficult disembarkation on Consolaçao beach; of the thirty-two landing craft, fourteen went under with over eighty men drowned. First skirmish on the beach: two hours and three charges with 250 Spanish and 150 Portuguese under Captain Alarcón and Juan González de Ateide. Death of Captains Robert Piew and Jackson plus other men. Death of a standard-bearer and fifteen Spaniards. 12,000 soldiers are landed.

2.27 May. Contact with the Portuguese at Peniche and Atouguia. Preparations for the march. Attack by the cavalry of Captain Gaspar de Alarcón: five dead plus one French prisoner who speaks Spanish: he reports that the English Armada is bringing 20,000 men. Surrender of the fortress to Dom António.

3.28 May. The English army reaches Lourinha, where it has proved impossible to raise a Spanish–Portuguese army. Start of the Spanish tactics to cut off supplies and communications. The army begins to starve.

4.28 May. Drake sets sail from Peniche to Cascais with the whole fleet and 3,200 men. A further five hundred, left as a garrison in Peniche, will be killed or captured.

5.28 May. Movement of Spanish troops transported in galleys from Lisbon to São Julião and Oeiras to strengthen the naval front.

6.29 May. The English army reaches Torres Vedras. Nobles in the area take flight. Fear in Lisbon. Locals who live outside the walls take refuge in the city.

7.30 May. Iberian military parade in Queluz, where the new headquarters has been set up.

8.30 May. Drake drops anchor between Cascais and São Julião, adopting a crescent shape.

9.30–31 May. The English enter Loures. Dom António announces that he will enter Lisbon on 1 June, the feast of Corpus Christi, but on the night of 31 May there is a surprise Spanish attack with more than two hundred dead.

10.1 June. The English reach Alvalade. Arms are distributed to the Portuguese infantry.

11.2–4 June. The English army reaches Lisbon. They are bombarded from the Saint George castle. Billeting in Lisbon. On 3 June there is a great attack of the besieged against the English barracks.

12.5 June. Night-time withdrawal by the army to Cascais, pursued by Spanish detachments. More than five hundred dead.

13.15 June. Arrival of the Adelantado of Castile with fifteen galleys and six fireships.

14.19–20 June. The English Armada sails on a westerly wind, the galleys set off in pursuit and sink or capture nine ships, a tender and a barge. The fleet is dispersed.

As dawn broke on Wednesday, 21 June 1589, it was clear that the English Armada was still in sight of land. While the first detachment of the fleet continued its slow voyage northwards, Drake was to spend that day sailing into the light onshore wind and tacking off the coast before reaching Cascais. For its part, the damaged Gregory, which was lost out at sea, struggled to sail northwards, while Fenner, who was even more lost and who had to endure a storm in the night, headed off to the islands of Madeira, which were relatively close by. These names make up for the anonymity of many other lost ships of which we know nothing further. Meanwhile, the fifteen caravels that had been made ready in Lisbon to come to the aid of the Azores were unable to set sail due to the calm seas and westerly winds. While all this was happening at sea, with the Duke of Aveiro remaining on full alert on land, the detachment of Guzmán and Bravo reached Torres Vedras, where they learned of the situation at Peniche from Martinho Soares.

Westerly winds continued to blow on 22 June, and nothing of significance changed at sea, although it did at Peniche. In fact, as Guzmán and Bravo’s detachment reached Lourinhã on their way there, they received

a report from a spy at Peniche that the enemy were trying to embark and take the artillery from the Tower. They all set off in haste towards Peniche, where they discovered some of the enemy already embarked on a small ship and a barge which were already in the water (and) about 40 of them got on board, while of those still on land they killed or captured almost 300.

Although English sources do not appear to confirm that there were any survivors apart from Captain Barton, there must have been some, for ‘although they were making haste, before they arrived they received news of the embarkation, and so spurring on their horses as much as they could they arrived with some two hundred yet to board and killed them or took them prisoner’. About two hundred, therefore, remained on land, and they were killed or captured together with others who were already on board. It is not known how many others managed to escape, but if disease had not taken too great a toll in the English garrison at Peniche, it could have been a sizeable number. What is clear is that, given the great urgency to prevent the men from getting on board, the only ones to arrive in time to prevent it were the cavalry. In any event, the haste to embark was such that ‘a chest full of papers belonging to Dom António was found, and amongst some important ones there was one written in his own hand that described everything that had happened to him from the time he had declared himself king to the day he arrived in this kingdom’. These papers would help to thwart Dom António’s plans once and for all.

Following this bloody encounter, the Iberians reclaimed the castle and its artillery. ‘In case any ships arrived, Pedro García’s company of Maestre de Campo Francisco de Toledo’s regiment, remained in the castle.’ With this new victory, ‘Don Pedro de Guzmán and Don Sancho Bravo, with their infantry and cavalry, returned to Lisbon with about 60 prisoners.’ The failure of the English expedition and the subsequent feeling of relief on the Iberian side loomed larger by the day.

As he had on previous days, Drake continued to sail close to the Portuguese coast during the morning of Friday, 23 June in order to make progress northwards and that is how the English Armada found itself off the coast at Peniche. He then sent in the rescue boats but, as fate would have it, the men who had been looking for such a sign of deliverance from the battlements of Peniche were no longer there. The ships – there were nine or ten of them – were kept at bay from Peniche by cannon fire and they returned to the fleet. Meanwhile, the English Armada was stretched out along the coast like the net of a fishing trawler or the Santa Compaña that by night seizes anyone that looks at it. Yet another merchant ship – a Hanseatic supply ship from Lübeck – fell into their clutches that day. But the extraordinary thing was that its captain was held on Drake’s Revenge until they reached Plymouth – perhaps because it was a ship captured at sea and to prevent any attempt to escape. Once he was back on the Peninsula, the captain, whose name was Juan Antonio Bigbaque, wrote a very interesting account of what happened.

That day a north-east wind got up after all the calms and westerlies and Drake set off for the open sea. That is when the fleet appeared to head for the Azores; as Hume put it: ‘After sailing ostensibly for the Azores, Drake turned back.’ But given the state of the fleet and the diverse nature of its composition, to attempt such a voyage of conquest seemed like an act of recklessness. Bigbaque, who witnessed the events, reported: ‘(Drake’s) principal objective was to end up in the Cíes Islands, but because the weather was so changeable from one day to the next, he decided to head for the island of Madeira. He sent barges to inform all the ships of the fleet, but later when the wind turned, he set course for Bayona and the Cíes Islands.’ With adverse winds for the return to England, with the coast on a war footing and swarming with galleys, with the great prize of merchant ships, and above all with the state of the fleet worsening rapidly and making it increasingly necessary to stop in order to recuperate, the Madeira Islands could be seen as an appropriate place for a stopover after six perilous and pointless days at sea. In any event, 23 June was the last day that the fleet was sighted from the vicinity of Lisbon and Peniche.

With the English Armada out to sea, the Spanish were suffering the same degree of uncertainty on Saturday, 24 June, as they had at the beginning of May: not knowing where a new landing by the English might take place. However, the situation was not the same, both on account of the drastic reduction in the power of the English fleet and the arrival of Philip’s troops in Portugal, including Juan del Águila’s infantry and Luis de Toledo’s cavalry. Hence Fuentes ordered that

as an attempt could be made between the Douro and Minho or in Galicia, it seemed advisable that the infantry and cavalry under Don Juan del Águila and Don Luis de Toledo should be accommodated in Coimbra and the surrounding area, for it is situated at the centre of the region and should the need arise they can reach any part of the area.

The Count also ordered that ‘in order for the billeting to be acceptable and convenient for the locals,’ everything should be done under the supervision of the Count of Portoalegre, and ‘they should be given excellent treatment there’.

On the same day, Fuentes sent two more caravels with men and supplies to reinforce the two that were tailing the English Armada. In addition, he began the recruitment of sailors for the new Armada that was being prepared for the following year. For his part, Alonso de Bazán, who had been called upon by the King for this new Armada, wrote to him on that day to say that with the invaders now definitely gone from Lisbon, he would travel to the Court immediately.

As for the English, it was on the Saturday that Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, more or less unwittingly rendered one last service to the expedition by providing Cerralbo with the same major headaches as he had suffered in May and in the process making the Vigo estuary more vulnerable. In fact, the first sighting of the first squadron of the English Armada occurred on that day in the Rías Altas, off the Costa de la Muerte. It included the favourite Devereux with many other nobles, a good number of English ships carrying the sick and the discharged Dutch vessels. This sighting created a counterproductive movement of Galician troops, for when Cerralbo thought that the English Armada was going to attack Corunna again, he ordered the three companies that were stationed in Pontevedra as reinforcements for Vigo and the Rías Bajas to return at once to Corunna. It would have been far better in this game of cat and mouse for these veteran soldiers to have remained in Pontevedra, for this would have spared them gruelling and futile marches across the Galician countryside that took them away from the place where the final attack by the English Armada would be unleashed shortly afterwards.

On Sunday, 25 June, the northerly winds and rough weather intensified. As night fell, Drake, who had sailed out to sea on 23 June, was sighted off Oporto. These facts suggest that Drake took advantage of the north-easterly wind on 23 June, sailed west-northwest at the start of what was to be a long tacking movement (that led some to think that he was heading for the Azores). At some point on 24 June, now at some distance from the coast and with the wind from the north, the tacking took them several miles out to sea. Following the change in direction and sailing into the wind as much as possible in order to get as far north as he could, he started a new tack, this time back towards the Portuguese coast. Finally, on 25 June, with the ships leaning hard to starboard, he completed the tack which took him to within five miles of Oporto. As far as the first squadron of the English Armada was concerned, it tacked using the northerly wind to reach Finisterre, while trying not to lose too much of the northern advance already made.

The northerly wind was still blowing on Monday, 26 June, and Drake was tacking gently off the north coast of Portugal between Vila do Conde and Esposende under the watchful eye of Pedro Bermúdez, commander of the military garrison in that sector. The first squadron of the fleet was doing the same off the Galician coast and was seen again that day from Finisterre. On the Spanish side, that was the day that the fifteen caravels at last set sail to reinforce the Azores. Meanwhile, the Gregory from London which, as mentioned earlier, had been hit by the guns from the galleys days before, ‘was not sailing as well as the rest’ and had got detached from the fleet, managed to join up with them again. According to Evesham’s account that was also the night when, in addition to the gradual dispersal of individual ships, the second squadron of the English Armada was in turn split in two. Evesham described how during the night Drake lit a beacon on the Revenge, which by daybreak had disappeared along with sixty ships.

On Tuesday, 27 June, the wind continued to blow, resulting in the virtual standstill of the English ships, which were becoming more and more spread out as they tried to sail into the wind off the Portuguese and Galician coasts. Tragically, they were being held back, with the vessels beginning to look more like mortuaries owing to the relentless increase in hunger, thirst, sickness and death.

By 28 June, most of the second squadron of the English Armada was close to the Portuguese–Galician border between Viana and Caminha. In fact, a number of ships showed signs of attempting to land on Ancora beach next to the river. But the same day the wind veered to the south, and so they were able to sail towards the estuaries which offered unparalleled respite for any ship exhausted from being at sea. However, they did not all anchor in Vigo as a number of them headed straight off to England. One of these was the Gregory, which headed north after abandoning a lost supply ship that it had come across and which decided to stay. Shortly afterwards, the Gregory came across another ship on its own, the Bark Bonner from Plymouth, and they decided to keep each other company on the tough voyage that awaited them on their homeward journey.

But on 29 June Drake finally managed to drop anchor off Vigo and, throughout that day, a large number of ships came to join him there. In conclusion, Drake had the wind in his favour to head for the Azores and against him to return to England. But what he wanted was to go home and, from setting sail from Cascais on 18 June until a southerly wind got up on 28 June, he had tacked against the wind in order to make some headway north. And during that time, disease and hunger began to seriously ravage the fleet.

The Knight of the Black Eagle

Titian‘s Equestrian Portrait of Charles I of Spain and V of the Holy Roman Empire (1548) celebrates Charles’ victory at Mühlberg
“Battle of Mühlberg, 1547”, Ángel García Pinto

If there is no way to avoid an engagement before I arrive, I cannot enjoin you too strongly to inform me post haste.


War marked Europe in the late 1540s. It was the first time that a major European war had been fought in Germany. On the one side was a Catholic emperor standing not only for the unity of Christendom but for universal Christian power and, on the other, the Protestant states articulating special particularism. Charles, now a widower and usually melancholy in time of peace, was happy to be in an army again: “There goes the happiest man in the world,” his brother Ferdinand’s ambassador Martín de Salinas had written in 1536 about Charles and the war in Provence. (It was Salinas who ensured that Ferdinand received so much information about the Indies.)

On June 26, 1546, the Farnese pope, Paul III, signed a treaty agreeing to support Charles against the Protestants. But France and England on June 6 had concluded a treaty at Guînes, in the Pas de Calais, then, of course, an English possession, which freed them both from obligations to Charles. On July 26, an army of Protestant princes reached the Danube and threatened to cut off Charles, who, in his litter, marched to the river Inn, and on August 13, joined with papal troops. Next day, the Protestant Schmalkaldic League formally challenged him, sending him a herald in the traditional manner. Charles assembled his army of thirty thousand infantry and five thousand cavalry. He then amalgamated these forces with those of the Dutch count Egmont, who had five thousand cavalry. The first battle was on August 31 at Ingolstadt, Charles taking part at the head of his men, supported by Alba and Egmont. Through his victory there, Charles won control of south Germany by the end of 1546. This was the victory of Alba, then at his best as a commander.

At Christmas 1546, Charles was at Heilbronn in Württemberg. He was then weary, having slept in forty different places since August. Next spring, in April—supported by his brother, Ferdinand, with his son Maximilian, and by the treacherous Maurice of Saxony—he defeated the elector John Frederick of Saxony at Mühlberg, near Leipzig, on the Elbe. Charles commented “Vine, vi y Dios conquistó.” John Frederick was not aware that Charles could cross the Elbe at Mühlberg. Alba brought the elector as a prisoner to Charles, who treated him scornfully. The Emperor then continued north to Wittenberg, the scene of Luther’s first challenge, which John Frederick surrendered on June 4 to avoid a siege. This marked Charles’s greatest triumph and enabled him to summon a diet at Augsburg. The Battle of Mühlberg is known as the occasion for Titian’s masterpiece; it is a unique example of a great victory inspiring a great picture.

Early in 1548, Charles wrote to his son and regent, Philip, who was then just twenty-one: “Seeing that human affairs are beset with doubt, I can give you no general rules save to trust in God. You will show this by defending the faith … I have come to the conclusion that a general council [of the Church] is the only way ahead … Peace will depend not so much on your actions as on those of others. It will be a difficult task for you to preserve it, seeing that God has bestowed so many great kingdoms and principalities on you … You know yourself how unreliable Pope Paul III [Farnese] is in all his treaties, how, sadly, he lacks all [real] zeal for Christendom, and how badly he has acted in this affair of the council [of the Church] above all. Nevertheless, honour his position. He is old [he had been born in 1468, so he was eighty]. Therefore, take careful heed to the instructions which I have given my ambassador [the clever Diego Hurtado de Mendoza] in case of a [papal] election … France has never kept faith and has always sought to do me harm … Never yield to them so much as an inch … Defend Milan with good artillery, Naples with a good fleet. Remember that the French are always discouraged if they do not succeed immediately in anything which they undertake. The Neapolitans, remember, are much given to revolt. Let them be constantly reminded how the French once sacked their city … You can never manage without Spanish troops in Italy … To preserve peace, I have allowed my demands for our ancient hereditary land, for the duchy of Burgundy, to lapse. But do not altogether forget your rights there … And do not at any time be persuaded to renounce Piedmont.”

It was an emperor who wrote and one who did not forget his more remote possessions. For he went on to advise Philip to keep a watch over his fleet. It was his best defense against pirates in the Mediterranean, and it would also keep the French from interfering in the Indies. Philip should cultivate Portugal for the same reason: “Do not cease to keep yourself well informed of the state of those distant lands, for the honour of God and the care of justice. Combat the abuses which have risen in them.” Charles also urged Philip to marry again soon, since he would need more children. (His first wife, María, had died.) He suggested Elizabeth of Valois, daughter of the new king Henry of France, or Jeanne d’Albret, daughter of King Henry of Navarre, who was “very attractive and clever.”

“And as for the Indies, take care to keep a good watch to see if the French want to send an armada there, dissimulating or otherwise, and ensuring that the governors of those parts keep a good look out so that, when it is necessary, they can resist the said French; … and you should establish good intelligence with Portugal … And as for the division of the Indians, about which there have been so many conflicting reports and advice, we have even consulted Don Antonio de Mendoza, the Viceroy of New Spain, so as to be properly informed.”

The princely recipient of this letter was, however, himself now on the move. Though quite unconvinced of the need to travel as his father had done, or in the same restless fashion, he had decided to visit his future dominions in the north of Europe. On October 2, 1548, Philip left Valladolid, ignoring the determined opposition of the cortes to such a journey. With him there were the Duke of Alba, both his and his father’s chief military adviser; Ruy Gómez da Silva, the future prince of Eboli, a Portuguese courtier who would become in effect a chief minister; his longtime secretary, Gonzalo Pérez; Honorat Juan, who had been his tutor in mathematics; the clever and original Fray Constantino Ponce de la Fuente; and Juan Cristóbal Calvete de Estrella, the Prince’s learned majordomo, who would write an account of the journey. There were also the musician Luis Narváez and the blind composer Antonio de Cabezón. Vicente Álvarez, the steward, would write an account. They were a strange gathering: Alba represented the hereditary nobility, Silva the noblesse de robe; Honorat Juan was a learned preceptor of the Prince from the Borgias’ town of Játiva; Ponce de la Fuente was Christophorus Fontanus, an Erasmian preacher, a converso, and one who as a result would die in prison; and Calvete was Philip’s teacher in Latin and Greek, who wrote a fine account of La Gasca’s triumph over Gonzalo Pizarro.

The Prince’s court spent three nights at Montserrat; they stayed at Barcelona with Estefanía de Requessens, widow of Juan de Zúñiga and a foster mother to Philip, and subsequently went to Rosas, in the Ampurdán, where on November 2, 1548, they boarded a vessel in a fleet of fifty-eight galleys commanded by the unconquered Andrea Doria. Then they set off for Genoa, stopping at Cadaqués, Collioure, Perpignan, Aigues-Mortes (where they waited six days because of the wind), Hyères, Savona, and then Genoa itself (on November 25), where Philip was put up by Doria in his palace for sixteen days.

At Savona, Columbus’s father’s town, the Regent was introduced to the famous bankers Lomellini, Pallavicino, and Grillo—all of whom, or their families, were to become important in the Indies. On December 19, Philip left Genoa for Milan, of which he was already the duke. He was there nineteen days, a time filled with balls, theaters, tournaments, banquets, and local tours, and there he met the painter Titian for the first time. He set off for the Catholic Church’s congress at Trent, where he was welcomed by the elector Maurice of Saxony (his father’s ally, though a Lutheran) and the cardinals of Augsburg and Trent. The council of the Church had actually gone to Bologna because of plague in Trent. Then, after five more days of celebrations, Philip and his party set off for the Netherlands via Bolzano and Innsbruck. This journey lasted six months. It was a serious education. It was the first time he had visited his northern European dominions.

By February 13, 1549, the princely party was in Munich, with its clean streets and small houses; there was much hunting, and many dinners and picnics. Then at Augsburg they visited the all-important Fuggers. At Ulm, there was a joust on the Danube. At Vaihingen, they were greeted by Prince Albert of Hohenzollern, who escorted them to Heidelberg, a Catholic enclave in a Protestant valley, where the Prince had four days of hunting, picnicking, dancing, and drinking. Then the expedition went on to Speyer, Luxembourg, Namur, and finally Brussels, where the Prince was greeted by his aunt, the Regent María. There followed a formal reunion with the emperor Charles at the royal palace.

Charles—though, as usual in those days, ill—held many celebrations, balls, hunting parties, and tournaments in honor of Philip. The Spanish Prince met all the grandees of the Low Countries, such as the Prince of Orange and Count Egmont, both fatally associated with him later in life. On July 12, Charles and his son went on a tour of the Netherlands, which lasted till the end of October. There was a formal swearing in of Philip as the heir to the throne, and also a celebration at the beautiful palace of Binche, between Charleroi and Mons, at the end of August 1549. At Binche, Philip saw The Descent from the Cross by Rogier van der Weyden, which he had copied by Michel Coxcie and which he bought many years later. Probably he bought other Flemish paintings at this time, including several by Bosch and the popular landscapist Joachim Patinir.

Queen Mary of Hungary had in 1540 held a carnival to honor the Spanish conquest of Peru. But there was now a new chivalric feast in 1549 at Binche, with performances based on the novel Amadís de Gaula, characterized by a storming of magic castles and liberation of prisoners. At a later stage in the “chivalrous entertainment,” knight after knight failed to defeat a certain “knight of the black eagle,” and they were imprisoned in a “dark castle” till a new, unknown gentleman, who called himself Beltenbrós (the name adopted by Amadís during his amorous penance), defeated his adversary and, by drawing forth an enchanted sword from a stone, revealed that he was the knight for whom this adventure was reserved. This unknown, of course, turned out to be Philip.

In September, there were organized for Philip two celebratory processions entering cities: first Antwerp, then Rotterdam.

Next year, 1550, with Philip still in the Netherlands, there were further celebrations. Thus there was a carnival in February at Brussels. Three famous Spanish preachers covered themselves with glory by pronouncing sermons. This was the last night that Philip spent in Brussels: “That night His Highness did not go to bed. He stayed in the main square conversing with the ladies as they sat at their windows. A few gentlemen, young and even some old, accompanied him. The talk was of love, stories were told, there were tears, sighs, laughter, jests. There was dancing in the moonlight to the sound of orchestras which played all night.” These were happy days, which were never to recur for Philip in the Low Countries.

An expedition including Charles as well as Philip then went by boat to Louvain, Aachen, Cologne, and Bonn, on the Rhine, though stopping at night on land. They went, too, to Mainz, Worms, Speyer, and Augsburg. In the last named, the imperial Diet met in July 1550. Here or nearby in southern Germany, Philip spent a year. There he commissioned Titian’s famous Poesie, as well as a portrait of himself by the same Italian master.

There was discussion, too, at Augsburg about the future inheritance of Philip. Charles hoped to leave his son everything, in a last fling of his desire to maintain a Habsburg union, a single constitution, a single confession, and a single ruler. But his patient brother, Ferdinand, the king of the Romans, wanted the imperial throne. Ferdinand’s son Maximilian came from Spain, where he was co-regent, to argue his case. Ferdinand and Charles disputed in public. Eventually, in March 1551, a formal agreement (drafted by the adroit Granvelle) between Charles and Ferdinand arranged that, after the former’s death, the latter would be emperor, while Philip would be elected King of the Romans and be emperor after Ferdinand. He would make a similar arrangement in Spain for his cousin Maximilian. Thus European power would remain in the hands of the Habsburgs, though it was not quite evident which line it would be.

In July of this same year, Charles wrote to both the young Maximilian and his wife, María, in their capacities as regents of Spain, about the most important matter on his mind: “The fleet which goes for the gold and silver of Peru will set off, we don’t know when but we do know that any delay at all is very damaging … The people of the Council of Finance write about their problems and costs and what they have to provide this year, taking into account that, in addition to the 200,000 ducats which we permit ourselves to take from the gold and silver of Peru, another 500,000 will be needed for the settling of various other liabilities.”

Another letter of this same time dealt with the idea of contracting with the great admiral of Spain Álvaro de Bazan to guard the merchant fleets sent to the New World.

Charles was again talking of gold from the Indies before the end of the year: Thus, on December 30, 1550, he wrote from Augsburg, “La Gasca had brought 200,000 ducats from Peru, of which we will avail ourselves this year. There will be 85,000 ducats which will be remitted and have to be balanced against the fact that costs will amount to 91,716 ducats and another 60,000 ducats which, with interest, will add up to 84,200 ducats and the last slice of 20,000 ducats which, with interest, will make 20,800 ducats which altogether would mean that, from the gold and silver of Peru, we would make either 376,000 or 403,570 ducats.” Charles’s interest in money was as eternal as his incapacity with dealing with it.

In fact, between 1551 and 1555, the Spanish Crown imported from the Indies more than three and a half million pesos and private people imported more than 6 million. Charles, the mirror of chivalry and the inheritor of the great Burgundian traditions, spent hours puzzling over these figures and sums.

On May 25, 1551, Philip at last left Augsburg for Spain, traveling back via Mantua (where La Gasca explained to him in detail what had befallen him in Peru, with its 346 rich encomenderos and about eight thousand colonists). Philip went on to Barcelona, where he arrived on July 12 and as usual stayed with the widow Estefanía de Requessens. He left Barcelona only on July 31 and set off for Saragossa, Tudela, Soria, and Valladolid, his birthplace and de facto capital, which he reached on September 1. No Spanish king had spent so much time abroad, no Spanish monarch would ever know so much of the way of living in other countries, no ruler of Spain was so well prepared to be an international emperor.

On June 23, 1551, the emperor Charles sent general instructions to Philip for the government of the Indies. These included: “That you examine all the offices which become free in the Indies in a spirit of justice, alongside the president and council of that enterprise, except for those in the Casa de la Contratación, the Viceroyalties, the presidents of the audiencias and the office of fundidor and inspector of forges, as well as the other principal governors I would reserve for myself … All the other dignities and benefits should be guaranteed by the Prince.” These declarations read like statements in the Emperor’s will.

In July, Charles wrote more optimistically from Augsburg: “By letter from Seville on the 12th last, I have gathered that the fleet of the Indies has arrived in Sanlúcar with the galleons coming from all parts [that is, Peru, New Spain, the other Indies, and the islands], and everything on board has been unloaded.”

Philip wrote back on November 24, 1551: “And inasmuch as we are talking of the Indies, they say that the latest reports which have been sent are satisfactory and that, from the treasure brought from Peru by the bishop of Palencia [La Gasca], there remains to be taken to Barcelona only 130,000 ducats. And in respect of the other amount from the Indies, that is from Tierra Firme [Venezuela and Colombia], New Spain and Honduras, they say that only 80,765 ducats have yet to be delivered.” The letter went into much detail as to how the money from the Indies should be spent. In December, Philip wrote again, from Madrid: “What would be really sensible would be to establish a fleet to guard the coast of Andalusia, from cape Saint Vincent to the straits of Gibraltar, to ensure the safety of the vessels which go to and come from the Indies which is now the main route of the merchants in Seville and Andalusia and where damage can be done by the French. And this fleet could be paid for by a grant which Your Majesty could make and be financed by a tax which could be levied on all merchandise coming from the Indies.”

The naval fleet of ships named to protect the merchant ships was always exposed to illegal or even corrupt practice. Thus as much as a quarter of the galleons were carrying goods that overweighed them. The captains of these ships argued that they were rendering their vessels unfit for fighting. But these critics were told that so long as the gundecks were free, a cargo in the hold made the ships steadier. The curious part of this story was that the captains carried their illegal cargoes above decks, where they could easily be seen. Captains sometimes made 100,000 pesos from this illegal freight and more from the sale of offices on their ships to merchants.

In early 1552, Philip was at Madrid, and La Gasca, the victor of Peru, who was becoming an imperial adviser of the first rank, was with the princess María at Linz negotiating for Ferdinand with Prince Maurice of Saxony. Charles’s brother, Ferdinand, continued to show concern for the Indies, putting many questions to La Gasca, who received as a present from Ferdinand eight plates richly worked; and Gasca bought a triptych to give to the church of El Barco de Ávila, very close to his birthplace.

Charles, despite his triumph at Mühlberg, did not escape further difficulties—on the contrary. He passed the winter of 1551–52 at Innsbruck, the great city associated with his grandfather Maximilian. In the spring of 1552, he heard that the Protestant Princes, outraged by the Emperor’s treatment of their colleagues, would receive the backing of the new king Henry of France, who, with Maurice of Saxony, was ready to fall on the fortresses of Metz, Toul, and Verdun. Charles was on the point of becoming a prisoner. On March 3, 1552, Charles sent a chamberlain, Joachim de Rye, Sieur de Balançon, with instructions to his brother, begging him to try to persuade the Princes to seek peace because the Turkish peril was surely far more grave. But Maurice of Saxony (now known in imperial circles as the “kinglet”) nevertheless sent his army against Charles, and on May 23 entered Innsbruck. Charles and what there was of the court only escaped by fleeing south across the Brenner Pass into Italy in driving rain. La Gasca, the Peruvian veteran, was, remarkably, with his master in this crisis.

Charles was now at war with France on every front, and in April, Metz was seized by the constable of France, the brilliant and powerful friend of the late King Francis I, Anne de Montmorency. Metz was a city proud of being a Free Imperial City but it was free within the Holy Roman Empire just as if it were a state. Francis, duke of Guise (Le Balafré) as governor ruthlessly pulled down the suburbs and even moved the body of King Louis the Pious from Saint Arnulf’s, outside the walls, to the cathedral of Saint-Etienne, within the city. Only in the autumn did troops come from Spain, which enabled the Emperor in person to besiege Guise in Metz; but the duke was a brilliant defender in a siege, and Charles failed to recapture the place.

Philip wanted to help his father. He wrote in May from Madrid: “I have no information about the news that Peru has sent to Panama and Nombre de Dios over 335,000 pesos.” He wrote again in June, saying that he was anxious to ensure that the Spaniards who came back from the Spice Islands would be well received: “Let them be good informers about the state of those islands.” Then in July, the Casa de la Contratación reported that the treasure brought back by La Gasca amounted to 1,906,082 escudos. Of these, 600,000 would be sent to Germany, 400,000 to the Low Countries, 200,000 to Parma, and only 200,000 to Castile, while 100,000 would be a loan to the pope.

Given the increased reliance of the Spanish Crown on its income from the Indies, the Casa de la Contratación now received new rules of conduct, following the similar reorganization that we have seen of the Council of the Indies. The headquarters would still be in Seville, but there would be a daily Mass and fixed hours of work. Functionaries who did not attend would be fined. They would have to live in the Casa and take an oath on introduction. The discussions in the afternoons would deal with licenses to go to the Indies. Votes would be by a simple majority. Grave disputes would be referred to the Council of the Indies. Sections 27 to 30 of the new rules forbade officials to receive gifts for any services or to do anything commercial in the Indies. Sections 121 to 126 listed those people forbidden to go to the Indies—Moors, new Christians (conversos), and descendants of those punished by the Inquisition—and also merchandise that was similarly prohibited, which would include “profane books and stories, books whose contents are untruthful,” with the only books permitted being those that dealt with Christianity and virtue. There was a specific decree repeating the banning of the import of romances into the New World; it was still thought that Indians might doubt the scriptures if they realized that these books were fictional. But this law had little effect.

Scientific books were not banned, but the Council of the Indies wanted strict censorship of both historical and geographical works dealing with the Indies. Sections 144 to the end of the rules of conduct dealt with how ships should sail to the Indies. Two-thirds of the water that was carried should be in well-prepared casks. The rest could go in clay pots or vats or pitchers, which were less good than casks since they sometimes broke and water was wasted.

These rules were signed in August 1552 by Philip and then were widely distributed to colonial officials, a copy being placed on every ship.

On October 7, 1552, Philip wrote to his father from Monzón, where he was attending the cortes of Aragon, to say that, in respect of paying the expenses that he had previously listed, “the principal recourse for those necessities is the Indies.”

We find Charles replying, from Metz, no less, “Insofar as the perpetuity of the encomiendas is concerned, we think that this is not the time to treat of that … All the same, we think that we have done well by arranging a contract with Hernán Ochoa for the sale of 23,000 African slaves for the Indies.”

On November 12, 1553, Philip wrote again to the emperor Charles that every year more corsairs sailed out of France intending to sack Spanish imperial ports. In the previous July, they had destroyed La Palma, in the Canaries. Yet, had it not been for the sums that now regularly reached Castile from the Indies, Spain would probably have had to abandon northern Europe.

In Spain, Hernando Pizarro, the eloquent victor of Cuzco, seemed a reproach to all. He had been condemned for the illegal execution of Almagro. He was first ordered to be sent to a prison colony in North Africa. That sentence was commuted and Hernando found himself confined in a fortress in Madrid. Finally, he was sent in June 1543 to the Castillo de la Mota, just outside Medina del Campo, city of imagination (Bernal Díaz del Castillo) and of fantasy (Amadís de Gaula). Hernando reached there in June 1543, and he remained there till May 1561. He lived comfortably, but confined all the same. At first, he lived with Isabel Mercado of Medina del Campo. Then in 1552, he married his niece, the daughter of his brother Francisco Pizarro, Francisca, who was then aged seventeen. The idea of such a marriage to Francisca had occurred at one time to Gonzalo Pizarro.

Hernando, once married to such a very rich girl as his niece, devoted his time to centralizing the management of his family’s estates in Peru, part of which had been managed by royal officials after the final defeat of Gonzalo. When eventually Hernando and Francisca left La Mota, free, in 1561, they went to live at La Zarza. That village outside Trujillo had always belonged to the Pizarro family, of which Hernando was now the head. They embarked there on “a strategy of reconstruction of their finances” and built a new palace in the main square of Trujillo (which still survives). They lived in the shadow of the coat of arms granted to Francisco Pizarro. They had also inherited Francisco’s marquessate, which, from 1576, was named as “of the Conquest.” Hernando died two years later, a survivor of extraordinary deeds into what seemed a calmer age. Francisca lived until 1598, having married again to Pedro Arias Portocarrero, son of the count of Puñonrostro.

Hernando’s fortune was large. In about 1550, it was almost as big as that of the family of Cortés—32,000 pesos a year, in comparison with the family of Cortés’s 36,800. Nor does this figure for Hernando’s income include the product of his mercantile adventures and mines. In the end, Hernando gained control of most of the estate (including the Porco mines) that the Pizarro brothers had acquired during the conquest.

When Allah met Odin I

At about the same time as Harald Bluetooth was erecting his great monument to Viking Christianity at Jelling, and the Wessex dynasty was completing the first unification of England with the expulsion of Harald’s brother-in-law Erik Bloodaxe from York, seafaring Vikings of the old-fashioned sort (Erik perhaps among them) were making, after an interval of almost a century, a second series of violent investigations of the territory and peoples of al-Andalus (Muslim Spain and Portugal), and the northern and western shores of Africa.

Muslim civilization had grown dramatically since the founding of the religion in Mecca in about 610 and Mohammed’s emigration to Medina in 622. The territorial and cultural expansion eastward and westward during the period of the Umayyad caliphs in the eighth century created an empire that extended from the borders of China to the Atlantic Ocean, from the Sahara to the Caspian Sea, from India to al-Andalus. With the rise to power of the Abbasid caliphs in the middle of the eighth century, the capital of the Islamic empire moved east, from Damascus to Baghdad. A dramatic rise in interest in Hellenistic and Persian culture followed, and the writing of local, Arab-nationalist literature that had characterized the Umayyad period was replaced by a universal literature. Much of it was scientific. As well as mathematics and cosmography, it reflected a vivid interest in the history and geography of the many peoples with whom the expansion of the seventh and eighth centuries had brought the Arabs into contact. The postal service of the Islamic empire assumed an important role in this trend, facilitating communication and knowledge of the routes and roads that bound the far-flung and disparate parts of the vast empire together; its head of staff was a leading political figure who was also chief of the security service. Books written initially for the purpose of describing the routes connecting the empire presently evolved into textbooks that nurtured an abstract interest in the history and geography of the peoples of the world, and most of what we know of the encounters between Vikings and Arabs in the territories bordering on the east and west of the Muslim empire is derived from books written in this spirit of enlightenment.

In the east, the Arab geographers and historians used the term ar-Rus for the Scandinavians they met in Russia and the surrounding regions; those in Spain and western Europe used the term al-madjus. The term al-madjus was not coined for the Vikings but was applied to them by Arab scholars in the belief that they were fire-worshippers, like the Persian Zoroastrians, whom they erroneously believed to practise cremation of the dead. ‘Their religion is that of the Magi,’ wrote the late thirteenth-century historian Al-Watwat, ‘and they burn their dead with fire.’ Ibn Said, a thirteenth-century geographer and traveller, offered a persuasive logic when he explained the worship of fire among northern peoples by the fact that ‘nothing seems more important to them than fire, for the cold in their lands is severe’. Al-madjus derives from Old Persian magush, which is also the etymological root of the Spanish word mago meaning ‘wizard’ or ‘astrologer’, and of the English word ‘magician’. It is familiar in Christian culture from the story of the three wise men, or magi, who travelled to Bethlehem to hail the birth of the infant Christ. The Vikings were also known as Lordomani and Lormanes in western Latin and Spanish sources. From the earliest times, Arab scholars were aware of the fact that they were dealing with the same people, whether they encountered them east of the Baltic, on Spain’s Atlantic coast, or in the Mediterranean: a geographical study written in 889 by al-Yaqubi refers to the Viking attack on Seville in 844 as ‘by the Magus, who are called the Rus’.

This raid on Seville is generally regarded as announcing the start of the Iberian Viking Age, although the Scandinavian arabist Arne Melvinger noted that Ibn al-Atir, the thirteenth-century historian, used the term al-madjus to identify a force that came to the aid of Alphonse II, king of Galicia, during his campaign against the Arabs in 795. Based on this, Melvinger went on to contemplate the possibility of a Viking presence on the peninsula a full half-century prior to this. He accordingly found it less easy than other commentators have done to dismiss, as poetic licence or simple factual error, Notker the Stammerer’s description of Charlemagne’s distress as the emperor sat at supper in an unnamed coastal town in Narbonensian Gaul and watched a small fleet of longships carrying out a raid on the harbour, for he was able to suggest a possible connection between Notker’s Vikings and the al-madjus who fought for Alphonse II in 795. The Arab military actions against Bayonne in 814, and in 823 and 825 in the Mundaka–Guernica fjord area of what is now Biscay, have all been related to the possible presence of al-madjus bases in these areas. These al-madjus can hardly have been Persian Zoroastrians, but the persistent use by Arab writers of the same term to denote both groups makes certain identification impossible. An objection to the argument for a Viking presence on the peninsula at such an early date is that they had almost certainly not yet established themselves sufficiently in either Ireland or western Francia, the natural staging-posts such bases would seem to require for the undertaking to be logistically credible. There is also the view of a school of Basque historians who posit a late conversion to Christianity in the Vascony area, and take all references to al-madjus in the Arab histories of raids and battles of the ninth and tenth centuries to be to Heathen Basques rather than Vikings.

As a development of the large-scale penetration by river of the northern territories of the Frankish empire, the first serious Viking attack on the Iberian peninsula in 844 came from a fleet that had navigated its way up the Garonne as far as Toulouse before retracing its route and heading south into the Bay of Biscay, following the coastline west past the tiny kingdoms of Asturia, Cantabria and Galicia that divided Christian Europe from Muslim Spain, raiding in Gijon and La Coruña on the way before being met and heavily defeated by Asturian forces under King Ramiro I. Many longships were lost in the attack and the fleet retreated to Aquitaine (or, if we allow the possibility, to a base in Bayonne).

A few months later a fleet of eighty longships, with square brown sails that ‘covered the sea like dark birds’, appeared off Lisbon, in the estuary of the Tagus, and over a thirteen-day period engaged in three sea-battles with local ships before heading further south. The harbour at Cadiz was occupied, and while one group made its way inland to Medina-Sidonia, the main body of the fleet sailed up the Guadalquivir into the very heartland of al-Andalus and established a base on an island not far from Seville. The city was taken, seemingly without resistance, for most of the inhabitants had fled to Carmona or up into the mountains north of Seville, and for some two weeks the city was in Viking hands. With the banks of the great river a noted centre for the breeding of horses they were able to range far and wide across the region in their plundering. As other ships arrived to join the occupying force, those occupants who had not managed to flee were massacred. Others – women and children – were taken captive. It seems the sheer unexpectedness of the raid on Seville astounded the authorities in the capital of Cordova, for it was some time before the emir Abd al-Rahman II thought to order the army out against them. With the help of catapult-machines the army drove the Vikings out of the city and some 500 of them were killed. Four Viking ships were captured intact.

In the middle of November the Vikings were again defeated, again with heavy loss of life. Thirty longships were burnt, and the corpses of Viking captives hung from the palm trees of Seville and Talyata. In symbolic triumph, the heads of the expedition leader and 200 of his men were sent to the Berber emir in Tangier. What remained of the fleet made its way back north up the coast. Abd al-Rahman II’s response to the dreadful novelty of these raids from the sea was to build a number of warships of his own and to establish a chain of lookout posts along the Atlantic coast. Seville was restored, its defences strengthened and an arsenal established.

There is no record of any further Viking activity in the region until the arrival in 859 of a second fleet of sixty Viking ships. Two that were sailing in advance were spotted and captured off the coast of the Algarve, complete with their cargo of booty and slaves. The rest sailed on, passing the Guadalquivir, which was now too well guarded to force, and making land at Algeciras, where they burnt down the mosque. Resuming their voyage, probably with the intention of entering the Straits of Gibraltar, they were driven by bad weather down the Atlantic coast of Morocco as far as Asilah. Making their way back to the Straits they entered the Mediterranean and followed the coast of North Africa as far as Nakur, a town identified as modern Nador, near what is now the small Spanish enclave of Melilla. Over the course of the next eight days they raided the beaches for slaves. This fleet was probably the same one that then went on to raid in the Balearic Islands of Formentera, Majorca and Minorca, landed at Rosellon near present-day Perpignan, plundered and burnt the monastery on the banks of the river Ter and even reached the north Italian city of Luna (now Lucca). Returning along the coast of al-Andalus, they attacked Pamplona and captured García, king of Navarra, whom they ransomed for 70,000 gold coins. A long and well-established Viking Age tradition holds that the leaders of this expedition were Hasting (aka Anstign, aka Hastein, aka Astignus) and Bjørn Ironside.

The attack on Luna was made, according to Dudo, because Hasting erroneously believed it to be Rome and was unable to resist the lure of an assault on the very heart of institutionalized Christianity. Feigning contrition for his evil ways, Hasting contacted local Christian leaders and allowed himself to be baptized. Returning to his men he outlined the plan: they were to pretend he had died and request permission for his body to receive a Christian burial within the city. Once inside the walls, it was a simple matter for him to leap from the coffin and lead his men in a massacre of the innocents of the city. Luna was certainly plundered; but the tactics used to gain entry to the city are less certain, and the ruse of ‘playing dead’ was a familiar example of Viking and Norman cunning that was also attributed to other heroes of the age, including the legendary Danish King Frodo, Robert Guiscard, the eleventh-century Norman duke of Apulia, and the eleventh-century king of Norway, Harald Hardrada.

As a postscript to this first round of ninth-century Viking raids on the Iberian peninsula and beyond, the Fragmentary Annals of Ireland for 867 offer a dramatized account of the background to the Africa campaign which ingeniously relates it to the arrival of the Great Heathen Army in England, and again emphasizes the role of slave-taking and slave-trading in such enterprises:

At this time came the Aunites (that is, the Danes) with innumerable armies to York, and they sacked the city, and they overcame it; and that was the beginning of harassment and misfortunes for the Britons; for it was not long before this that there had been every war and every trouble in Norway, and this was the source of that war in Norway: two younger sons of Albdan (Halfdan), king of Norway, drove out the eldest son, i.e. Ragnall son of Albdan, for fear that he would seize the kingship of Norway after their father. So Ragnall came with his three sons to the Orkneys. Ragnall stayed there then, with his youngest son. The older sons, however, filled with arrogance and rashness, proceeded with a large army, having mustered that army from all quarters, to march against the Franks and Saxons. They thought that their father would return to Norway immediately after their departure.

Then their arrogance and their youthfulness incited them to voyage across the Cantabrian Ocean and they reached Spain, and they did many evil things in Spain, both destroying and plundering. After that they proceeded across the Gaditanean Straits, so that they reached Africa, and they waged war against the Mauritanians, and made a great slaughter of the Mauritanians. However, as they were going to this battle, one of the sons said to the other, ‘Brother,’ he said, ‘we are very foolish and mad to be killing ourselves going from country to country throughout the world, and not to be defending our own patrimony, and doing the will of our father, for he is alone now, sad and discouraged in a land not his own, since the other son whom we left along with him has been slain, as has been revealed to me.’ It would seem that that was revealed to him in a dream vision; and his other son was slain in battle; and moreover, the father himself barely escaped from that battle—which dream proved to be true.

While he was saying that, they saw the Mauritanian forces coming towards them, and when the son who spoke the above words saw that, he leaped suddenly into the battle, and attacked the king of the Mauritanians, and gave him a blow with a great sword and cut off his hand. There was hard fighting on both sides in this battle, and neither of them won the victory from the other in that battle. But all returned to camp, after many among them had been slain. However, they challenged each other to come to battle the next day. The king of the Mauritanians escaped from the camp and fled in the night after his hand had been cut off. When the morning came, the Norwegians seized their weapons and readied themselves firmly and bravely for the battle. The Mauritanians, however, when they noticed that their king had departed, fled after they had been terribly slain.

Thereupon the Norwegians swept across the country, and they devastated and burned the whole land. Then they brought a great host of them captive with them to Ireland. For Mauri is the same as nigri; ‘Mauritania’ is the same as nigritudo. Now those black men remained in Ireland for a long time.

The Arabic records that tell of the third series of Viking raids on the peninsula that began in June 966 sound a weary and frightened echo of the responses of Anglo-Saxon and Frankish chroniclers at their reappearance, and at the predictably violent nature of their errand. The experiences of previous encounters over 100 years earlier had etched itself on the communal memory. The thirteenth-century Moroccan scholar Ibn al-Idari wrote of the response to the sighting of a fleet of twenty-eight ships off the coast of what is now Alcacer do Sal, in the province of Alentejo, just south of Lisbon, ‘that the people of the region were very alarmed, because in former times al-magus had been in the habit of attacking al-Andalus’. Descriptions of the size of the fleets, their movements and doings have the same fearful precision of the western chroniclers, and their sentences are punctuated in the same way by outbursts of pious despair: ‘May Allah destroy them!’ Ibn al-Idari cries out, in the middle of a tale of how the caliph, al-Hakam, hit upon a plan of disguising some ships in his own fleet as longships, in the hope that they would function as decoys and lure the Vikings into the Guadalquivir harbour.

The nucleus of this Viking fleet was the large remainder of an army of Danish Vikings which had arrived in the duchy of Normandy early in the 960s at the request of Duke Richard I to give him military assistance in a regional conflict. Some returned home once the business was settled; some accepted Richard’s offer of land in return for baptism; the remainder set off raiding in Galicia and Leon in the north-west of Spain, even-handedly attacking both Christian and Muslim targets along the way. After encountering some resistance, they were joined in 968 by a fleet of 100 ships under a leader known to the Muslims as Gunderedo and threatened the Galician town of Santiago de Compostela, by this time a place of pilgrimage to the shrine of Saint Joseph (Jakob) and, as a result, a very wealthy town. They landed at the head of the Arousa inlet and, while the bishop of Compostela tried to organize resistance, spread terror through the region, burning down buildings, killing and thieving. When at length the bishop arrived at the head of an armed force they withdrew to a place called Fornelos. In a later engagement, the bishop was killed by an arrow and the demoralized Galician troops fled the field of battle and left the people to the mercies of the Vikings. For the next three years they remained a dominant and terrifying presence in the area. Why this dominance in Galicia did not translate into formal possession is not clear; but the last recorded raid in this particular series was an overland advance in June 972 to the Algarve by a Viking army.

A fourth and final wave of Viking attacks that lasted from 1008 to 1038 was notable for the involvement of Olav Haraldson, a future king of Norway, whose redemptive career as a crusader among his own people we shall consider later. The raids were concentrated in the south-west of Galicia. In the most notorious of them, the Vikings sailed up the Miño river to the town of Tui, which they burnt and destroyed. Bishop Don Alfonso was captured, along with a great number of other Christian officials, presumably for ransom, though the records do not say so. Olav’s court poets, Sigvat and Ottar the Black, both refer to their master’s adventures in Spain. The fact that Snorri does not do so in his Saga of St Olav may be a discretionary omission by a Christian author who was self-consciously writing a hagiography in which such details had no place. Twenty years later the Vikings were back in Galicia, briefly this time but apparently again successfully, for their commander made himself a name there and was remembered as ‘the Galician Wolf’.