Sir Francis Drake (c.1540-96) has gone down is history as an English national hero, the archetypal sea dog of the Elizabethan age. Although remembered as one of his country's great naval commanders, his performance in the service of Queen Elizabeth I was less than glorious. At the moment of Elizabethan England's greatest danger, he deserted his post in search of plunder. A pirate at heart, he was unable to put his country's interests ahead of personal gain. How did such a rakish sea dog become seen as a national hero rather than as a selfish deserter? Did he somehow make up for his actions, or is his position amongst the pantheon of national heroes undeserved?
Francis Drake spent almost his entire nautical career as a privateer rather than as a Queen's officer. He only operated on the Queen's behalf on three occasions, in 1587, 1588 and 1589. The rest of the time he was considered either a pirate or a privateer, depending on how precise you choose to be with legal technicalities. Although he sometimes operated using Royal ships and troops, and co-operated with other sea dogs, he was essentially his own man, a form of Elizabethan pirate king. This freedom and the string of successes he enjoyed as an independent commander sowed the seeds for his questionable actions during the Spanish Armada campaign of 1588.
Drake rose to prominence during the two decades preceding the events of 1588. As an experienced young maritime captain of about 30 (his exact birthdate is unknown), Drake participated in John Hawkins' debacle at San Juan de Ula in 1569, where he was lucky to escape with his ship and his life. Francis Drake was determined to avenge defeat in Mexico, and from 1570 to 1573 he led annual raids against the Spanish Main. In 1572 he attacked Nombre de Dios, the Caribbean terminus for the annual Spanish shipments of Peruvian silver. Although the raid and his subsequent attack on the Spanish silver shipment were failures, he resumed his assaults the next year. This time he came away with a considerable haul of plunder, and returned to England in late 1573 to a hero's welcome. Spain and England were at peace, and his actions were nothing other than acts of piracy. If caught, the Spanish would have undoubtedly executed him as a pirate. Four years later he returned to the Americas with five ships, including his flagship, the 200-ton Pelican. By mid-1578 he was off the tip of South America, but his fleet had been reduced to three. By the time he passed through the Magellan Straits into the Pacific Ocean only the flagship was left. Drake had already renamed her the Golden Hind. On 1 March 1579 he caught up with a Spanish treasure ship nicknamed the Cacafuego. It surrendered to the pirate, yielding a fortune. Rather than return to England around Cape Horn, Drake chose to continue westwards across the Pacific, then returned home via the Indian Ocean and the Cape of Good Hope. Three years after she sailed, the Golden Hind arrived back Plymouth in September 1580. Queen Elizabeth had secretly backed Drake's piratical expedition, and when he returned laden with Spanish booty she was delighted, calling him 'my pirate'. Elizabeth knighted Drake in 1581 signalling a change in national policy. By rewarding a pirate who had made a fortune by plundering the Spanish, the English court was simply confirming their anti-Spanish stance. England and Spain were in the middle of a cold war, and Drake's star was in the ascendant.
Four years later this tense political situation exploded following open English backing for the Dutch Protestants who were struggling to throw off the Spanish yoke in the Netherlands. Sir Francis Drake was invited to take the war to the enemy. In 1585 he sailed from Plymouth at the head of a large privateering expedition, his fleet including warships and troops provided by the Queen, who expected a return for her investment. Drake was given letters of marque, which established him as a bona-fide privateer, and he was even given secret orders from the Queen, inviting him to divert the Spanish from any attempt against England. Although officially she was just a financial backer, the Queen expected Drake to act in the national interest as well as his own. First, Drake sacked Santiago in the Cape Verde Islands, and then he crossed the Atlantic and entered the Spanish Main. A New Year's Eve assault on Santo Domingo led to the capture of the capital of Hispaniola, one of the richest cities in the Caribbean. By January he had burned the town and headed south, bound for the rich Venezuelan city of Cartagena. He captured the port after a brief assault, but disease prevented further large-scale raids in the region. He headed for home via the Florida Straits, attacking the vulnerable Floridian settlement of St Augustine on his way north. The expedition was a financial failure, as all the cities yielded less plunder than had been anticipated. Drake also failed to locate the annual Spanish treasure fleet transporting silver from the New World to Spain. Despite this lack of success, the expedition had provided him with the opportunity to combine privateering (or piracy) with national policy, diverting the Spanish at a time when King Philip II of Spain was planning his great enterprise against England. War fever gripped both countries, and it was clear that Elizabeth would need all of her sea dogs to defend England from invasion.
In April 1587, Drake sailed for Spain in command of a fleet of 23, including six royal warships, bound for Cadiz. When Drake arrived off the Spanish port he found that preparations for the Armada were well under way. In a spirited attack, Drake captured or destroyed two dozen Spanish ships lying in the harbour, but powerful shore defences prevented any attempt against the town itself. The Queen's orders to 'singe the King of Spain's beard' had been carried out to perfection. During his return voyage he lay in wait off the Azores for the inbound Spanish treasure fleet, probably in defiance of direct orders to return to England with his fleet, which formed the core of the defensive fleet being formed by Lord Howard of Effingham. Once again the Spanish fleet eluded him, although he was able to snap up a straggling galleon, which he brought back to Plymouth with the rest of his fleet. From this point on, Drake would have to operate under Howard, the High Admiral of England. For Drake, the requirement to co-operate with other commanders as superiors and equals would be a significant test of his character. He was no longer a free-ranging privateer. As a vice-admiral, and second-in-command to Howard, Drake had a vital role as part of a larger enterprise.
In the late afternoon of 29 July 1588, the Spanish Armada was sighted off the Cornish coast. It had been expected for months, and when it appeared, it triggered an English network of coastal warning beacons. The Golden Hind, acting as one of several scouting vessels, had already brought news of the Armada's approach to Plymouth. Commanded by the Duke of Medina Sidonia, the 130 ships that constituted the Armada were formed into a tight defensive formation, then continued sailing to the northeast, towards Plymouth. Although the English knew a lot about the Armada's composition and strength, they were still unsure whether it would attempt a landing on the English coast, or sail on towards Flanders, where it could rendezvous with the veteran Spanish army of the Duke of Parma. In fact, the 19,000 soldiers carried on board the ships were charged with defending the fleet, not with landing, at least not until Parma's troops had waded ashore in Kent.
The bulk of the English fleet was at Plymouth, while a second, smaller squadron guarded the narrows of the English Channel near Dover. On 30 July they put to sea from Plymouth, and during the night they split into two groups, passing on both sides of the Spanish formation. At dawn on 31 July the English lay to windward of the Spanish, somewhere close to the Eddystone Rocks, some 20 miles south-southeast of Plymouth Sound. This allowed the English to sail downwind towards the Spanish whenever they chose, but prevented the Spanish from closing with their enemies at will. To the English the Armada must have looked imposing, the Spanish ships deployed like a half-moon, 'the wings thereof spread out, sailing very slowly, with full sails . . . and the ocean groaning under their weight'. Howard ordered a small English ship to open fire, precipitating the first battle of the campaign, the engagement known as the battle off Plymouth. Howard led an attack on the rear of the Spanish fleet, while other ships further inshore harassed the northern wing of the Armada. As the battle developed, fighting became concentrated around the centre and left (north) of the Spanish formation, as both English and Spanish warships converged on the same patch of water. It has been suggested that Drake commanded the inshore squadron, although he is mentioned leading a detachment of ships along with Frobisher and Hawkins, who were fighting against the Spanish centre. By this stage the fight had degenerated into a long-range artillery duel fought at a range of about 500 yards. The English were unable or unwilling to close within effective range of the Armada's powerful defensive formation. As the main battle was being fought out, the Armada continued its steady progress to the east, sailing under shortened sail, and making three to four knots. Around 1.30 pm, disaster struck. An explosion ripped the sterncastle out of the San Salvador, a large armed merchantman that was well to the south of the fighting. The cause of the explosion has never been satisfactorily explained. While Medina Sidonia was still dealing with that problem, the Nuestra Señora del Rosario, commanded by Don Pedro de Valdés collided with two Spanish warships, which brought down its foremast. The sea was becoming rougher, and the now immobilised Rosario was left to drift on to the east, while the rest of the fleet altered course to the northeast, escorting the crippled San Salvador. Medina Sidonia had decided that to try to rescue the Rosario would place the Armada in jeopardy, and Don Pedro was left to his own devices as darkness fell.
Drake was ordered to shadow the Armada, while the rest of the English fleet regrouped then followed on behind. Howard sent a pinnace with orders that Drake was to light his stern lanterns to serve as a guide for the other ships. At around 9 pm a small armed merchant vessel probed the wounded Rosario and was driven off by artillery fire. Drake was aware of the Rosario's plight, and of her position. Instead of following the main fleet, he quietly extinguished his stern lanterns, altered course to starboard, and shadowed the Rosario for the rest of the night. Without their guide, the rest of the English fleet lost contact with the main force of the Armada in the darkness. The English fleet became hopelessly scattered. Drake has been criticised for his action, by which he seemed to place his own desire for plunder ahead of his duty as a vice-admiral, charged with maintaining contact with the Spanish throughout the night. Drake was first and foremost a privateer, and he was well aware of the Rosario's predicament. Most probably, he simply found the opportunity presented by the Rosario too tempting to resist. Although in his defence he later claimed that he had set off to the south in pursuit of strange sails, and had forgotten to light his stern lanterns, his claims were half-hearted at best. There seems little doubt that he simply set off in pursuit of the Rosario as a deliberate attempt to capture a valuable prize before someone else did. Drake was first and foremost a privateer, and his fellow privateers had no doubt whatsoever about his motives. In later centuries, any admiral who acted in such a cavalier fashion would be court-martialled and held to account for his actions. Instead, Drake's lapse was largely ignored.
At dawn on Monday morning (1 August), while the Armada was grouped in a relatively tight formation some 20 miles to the south of Devon's Start Point, the English fleet lay scattered to the southwest. During the night the sea had become rougher, which added to the dispersion of the fleet. Only Lord Howard in his flagship the Ark Royal and two small consorts (the Mary Rose and the White Bear) remained in position to windward of the Spaniards. By his actions, Drake had prevented any chance of the English launching a decisive attack against the Spanish fleet while they were still reeling from the previous day's action. Howard had little choice but to wait for the rest of his fleet to join him, giving the Spanish a heaven-sent opportunity to regroup and reorganise. The Duke of Medina Sidonia took full advantage of the respite, and changed his tactical formation from the vulnerable crescent his Armada adopted the previous day into a defensive circle. Based on the Tercio formation used on land, a ring of heavily armed warships protected an inner core of weaker vessels and supply hulks. By mid-afternoon the Armada was continuing unmolested up the English Channel, in a formation that was virtually impregnable to attack.
Far to the south, the Nuestra Señora del Rosario found itself alone, apart from one other small (and unidentified) warship, and two small pinnaces (or launches). Although his crew had worked throughout the night to repair the damage to his flagship, Don Pedro de Valdés knew that his ship would be unable to outmanoeuvre a determined opponent. As the sun rose, the Spaniards saw Drake's Revenge lying off their port quarter, some 500 yards to windward. The armed merchantman Roebuck accompanied the Revenge. Drake later expressed surprise at finding himself so close to the stricken Spanish warship at dawn. His contemporaries were unconvinced by his expressions of surprise. Martin Frobisher, an experienced privateer and sea dog, summed this up perfectly: 'Ay marry, you were within two or three cables length [at dawn, as] you were no further off all night!' In other words, nobody believed Drake's story.
Drake was in a perfect position to lie off the stern of Don Pedro's flagship and to rake her, firing into her hull while denying the Spanish the chance to return his fire. The Nuestra Señora del Rosario was defenceless. The small warship escorting her took the opportunity to escape and some of the English and Irish crewmen on board the Spanish flagship were given permission to escape in one of the accompanying pinnaces. For them, capture would have meant certain death as traitors. Drake called on Don Pedro to surrender, and after an initial refusal the Spanish commander agreed to discuss terms with Drake on board the Revenge. He agreed to surrender his ship, along with all its cargo. The Rosario carried part of the Armada's paychest, some 50,000 gold ducats (or escudos), a fortune in 1588, and more than Drake captured on some of his most successful raids against the Spanish Main. The ship also contained the extensive personal wealth of its officers, which probably amounted to the same figure again. Although Drake was usually careful to prevent personal looting, and his officers supervised the transfer of the booty from the Rosario to the Revenge, it is highly probable that he allowed a certain amount of larceny. Certainly the treasure handed over to the Royal authorities seemed to be less than that accounted for by subsequent interrogation of the Spanish officers and an examination of the ship's papers. Drake's critics, including Frobisher, claim that only a portion of the plunder was handed over to the Crown, and this was almost certainly true. History will probably never know exactly how much plunder Drake gathered from the Rosario, but it was certainly more than his previous hauls at the expense of the Spanish crown. The armed merchantman Roebuck towed the Rosario into Dartmouth (some accounts say Weymouth), and Drake sailed north in the Revenge along with his plunder and the leading Spanish officers, who would be ransomed to produce an even greater profit. The most senior of these was Don Pedro de Valdés.
By mid-afternoon, Drake had rejoined the main fleet, and Howard called him aboard his flagship to explain his actions. While the meeting between the two English commanders was held in private, there can be little doubt that Howard vented his fury at Drake's dereliction of duty. More publicly, Howard met Don Pedro on the quarterdeck of the Ark Royal, and expressed his sympathy for his circumstances. Any public castigation of Drake was impossible if the English fleet was to remain a united force capable of halting the progress of the Armada. Drake returned to his ship, and joined Howard in his pursuit of the now re-formed Spanish Armada. He had managed to get away with it.
Later historians have dismissed the importance of Drake's lapse, and have even argued that it was tactically advisable to ensure that the powerful Rosario was captured. In fact the Rosario offered no threat to the Armada, and its crew were unable to complete the repairs they required to make the flagship fit for service again. Any small ship or squadron could have captured her. For the second-in-command of the main English fleet to abandon his post in pursuit of a prize was simply inexcusable. What is extraordinary is that the sea dog was so sure of his position that he knew he could avoid official castigation. He was simply too important a part of England's defensive plans, and as later actions during the campaign showed, Howard seemed incapable of forcing Drake to accept the discipline required by a holder of such an important post.
So much for Sir Francis Drake's lapse of responsibility off the Devon coast. Historians and subsequent generations have come to see him as the archetypal English sea dog, and any flaws in his performance or character have for the most part been overlooked. How did he get away with it? Why were the English so willing to portray Drake as a national hero, when his actions off Devon verged on the act of a traitor at worst or a deserter at best? The reason was simple. England needed Drake, and nothing could be allowed to dent his public image. At the start of the Armada campaign, Drake's personal stock was high. He was immensely wealthy, he was a favourite of the Queen, and he was widely acclaimed as a hero by the English populace. Much like the British public during the Battle of Britain, who had to believe in the superiority of their fighter aces and aircraft, in 1588, the English had to rely on the abilities of the sea dogs. Drake was the most popular of them all, and through his successes on the Spanish Main and in his attack on Cadiz he was widely regarded as the best commander England had available. He was a man who could not be allowed to look vulnerable or unpatriotic and the Queen and Lord Howard were jointly prepared to overlook his excesses in return for his active participation in the campaign. It is almost certain that Drake was given a major private castigation by his commander, as for the remainder of the campaign he displayed his usual flair and initiative but remained firmly within the fold; one of several such sea dogs who helped ensure England's final victory. It is also fairly certain that both the Queen and her High Admiral maintained strong reservations about Drake because of his performance during the Rosario incident. When he commanded the expedition to Santander in Spain in April 1589 (together with Sir John Norris), his mission was an almost impossible one. With 126 ships and 21,000 men, it was effectively an Armada in reverse. But Drake failed to capture his objective, and became embroiled in a major diplomatic scandal over the capture of neutral German ships off Lisbon. His force sacked La Coruna and Vigo, but failed to capture the returning treasure fleet. By the time the expedition returned, half of his men were dead, and many of the royal or hired private ships that participated were so worn that they had to be condemned or else required extensive repairs. He was castigated by Queen Elizabeth for looting, and there still remains some question as to whether the Queen received the full share she expected from the plunder, and whether Drake retained some of the royal share for his own use. This was seen as the final straw, and once the Queen's disapproval of Drake became public knowledge, his fall from grace was swift. He returned to Plymouth in disgrace, and remained on his private estates in Devon for another five years, ostracised by his Queen, the court and the government. It seems as if Elizabeth and Howard had simply jumped on the opportunity to publicly punish Drake for the Rosario.
In 1595 he was recalled to public service, partly as a result of constant lobbying and of continued public support for their hero. Drake and Hawkins were given joint command of an expedition bound for the Spanish Main. Off Puerto Rico the commanders argued and fell out, a problem solved by Hawkins' death from fever in late November. Drake failed to capture the island, and went on to the Central American coast, where he harried Spanish ports and shipping until his own death off Porto Bello in February 1596.
His death ensured his immortality as a naval hero, dying in easily romanticised circumstances, serving his Queen while devastating the Spanish Main. If he had been kept out of the public eye, and had not been called back to the colours, he would probably have died of old age in Devon, a half-forgotten privateer from an earlier age. He and Frobisher might have continued what would be called today a battle of the memoirs. Instead, he died in the limelight, and has remained there ever since. One final factor ensured Drake's continued popularity. During the rest of the Armada campaign, he fought with conspicuous gallantry, audacity and intelligence. During the battle off Portland, he diverted part of the English fleet on his own initiative, and attacked the rear of the Spanish Armada as it was strung out. His actions almost brought on the decisive battle that would elude the English until the battle off Gravelines a week later. During the pursuit of the Armada down the Channel the ships under his command were extremely aggressive in harassing the Spanish rearguard, and once again, Drake almost forced the Duke of Medina Sidonia to break his formation and to fight a battle on terms of Drake's choosing. Above all, he helped devise the fireship strategy that would lay the foundations for an English victory. A staunch advocate of the tactic, he even offered some of his own privateer and merchant vessels to be used as fireships. The ensuing attack off Calais forced the Spanish Armada to collectively cut their anchor cables, therefore ensuring that they were unable to remain off Calais to rendezvous with the Spanish invasion force of the Duke of Parma. This led to the chaotic battle off Gravelines, when Drake led his squadron to within pistol shot of the enemy, causing so much damage that many of the Spanish ships were rendered unseaworthy. Many of these vessels foundered on the long voyage home to Spain around the coasts of Scotland and Ireland.
His achievements during the Spanish Armada campaign of 1588 were indeed worthy of a great naval commander, and their merits alone would have ensured his place among the top national heroes of the Elizabethan age. This, coupled with his attacks on the Spanish in the Caribbean basin and his circumnavigation of the globe have combined to make him a creature of legend; a devil to the Spanish and a great hero to the English. The campaign also brought out less desirable traits in his personality, and showed that he was willing to risk the success of his country's arms for the sake of personal aggrandisement. Drake was certainly a national hero worthy of much of the glory that still surrounds him today. He was also an unscrupulous looter, a deserter and an embezzler. In different times and circumstances, he would have been struck from the history books. Instead, he was the right man at the right time, and helped save the England of Queen Elizabeth at the time of its greatest peril. For all his faults, and despite his appalling lapse during the Rosario incident, this remains his lasting legacy. Then as now, his image could not be tarnished.
by Angus Konstam
About the Author
Angus Konstam has written several books for Osprey, mainly on 18th-century subjects. His recent works include Campaign 44: Pavia 1525 and Elite 67: Pirates 1660-1730. Angus previously worked as a Curator of Weapons at the Royal Armouries, Tower of London, and Chief Curator of the Mel Fisher Maritime Museum.
Further Reading
Howarth, D. The Voyage of the Armada: The Spanish Story (New York, 1981)
Konstam, A. Campaign 86: The Armada Campaign 1588 (Osprey, 2001)
McKee, A. From Merciless Invaders: The Defeat of the Spanish Armada (London, 1963)
Martin, C & Parker, G. The Spanish Armada (London, 1988)
Mattingly, G. The Armada (Boston, 1959)