I wrote this about a year ago and someone suggested I stick it on here. It is written from the point of view of a modern travel-writer visiting the Isle of Wight, off the southern coast of England.
Though I am happy with the history upto 1600, the more modern history is very much linked with our own, partly for ironic effect, partly through laziness after all the research that the main section needed:
The Wight wind of change
Wight slowly becomes visible as a misty rising ridge as you drive west along the coast of Sussex. These days the sight of this beautiful island is barely more than another part of the coastal view, so it is sometimes difficult to appreciate just what the looming presence of this island has meant to the British psyche for the last four centuries.
The Solent, throughout the UK’s naval history, should have been our main port and the home of our Navy, as indeed it was until 1588. Instead the events of that year forced the Navy to focus on the Severn ports and Liverpool, while the Solent became the scene of the longest military stand-off in European history, with the Kingdoms of Spain and England eying each other suspiciously across a water-divide that is little more than a kilometre wide at its narrowest point.
Boarding the Ferry at Lymington, overlooked by its impressive example of an English Solent Castle, brings home how tense this stand-off must have been. But how many people know that the occupation of la Isla de Wight was the result of a near naval and military disaster for Spain and that arguably the only reason why Wight is Spanish is due to an easterly wind?
Wight was a bizarre consolation prize for Philip the Second of Spain, following the failure of his Armada to invade England. This impressive fleet, made up of 130 Warships, had fought its way up the English Channel, sheltering briefly at Wight, before making for Dunkirk to rendezvous with the Duke of Palma’s huge invasion army, the dreaded Tercios, with their deadly combination of Pikemen, gunpowder and almost insane bravery. At this point the Spanish were highly vulnerable to an English attack and the whims of the weather.
At the Battle of Gravelines the English set their fire-ships towards the Spanish fleet and at that point history might have played out in a very different way. Fortunately for the Spanish a good easterly wind enabled them to break their defensive formation and make west with haste, though losing 23 ships in the process along with countless lives. Now pursued by the more maneuverable English fleet, and carrying a full invasion army, the Spanish commander, Admiral Alonso de Guzmán El Bueno, 7th Duke of Medina Sidonia, was faced with an impossible situation.
What he did next has been described by some as both one of the biggest acts of naval cowardice and raw Military guts in history. Medina-Sidonia was an unwilling commander of his Armada, preferring dry land at all costs. It can only be assumed that he calculated that the best thing to do with a strong army on a fleet that is being outmaneuvered at every turn is to land that army and regroup. Recalling the sheltered waters of Wight, his army landed at Medina de la Mar (Then called Sandown) on August the Fifteenth 1588, while the fleet sheltered in the now silted up Asilo de Brading (Brading Haven).
What followed turned this sleepy island into the sight of one of the bloodiest invasion battles in English history, the first since the Battle of Hastings over half a millennium earlier and the last to date. While there was extensive harrying of the sheltered Armada, the main concern of the now panicking English was to prevent a bridgehead being established at any cost. The local population were no match for the Spanish and their rapid advance west then north was a bloodbath that many English have still not forgiven the Spanish for.
The largest settlement in Wight was then called Newport. Medina-Sidonia knew that capturing this town was essential to repelling the arrival of a significant English force and his troops showed no mercy in ensuring that the town became theirs, effectively “sacking” the place. This part of the world had suffered many such atrocities at the hands of the French in previous centuries. The Sack of Newport was the invaders’ finale.
Arriving at Castillo de Tercios by ferry leaves one in little doubt that the Spanish intended never to lose this bridgehead so close to one of their main enemies. Its castle, the closest to the English mainland, was extended like a crusader-castle and comes across as a miniature Crac de Chevalier, all huge blank limestone walls and cannon-towers. This incredible castle gave the Spanish effective control of the western entrance to the Solent for a century and was never surpassed by the also impressive Hurst Castle on the opposite shore.
The flag of Wight
Flying from the highest turret of this castle is the flag that has taunted England ever since. Soon after his occupation of Wight, Medina-Sidonia sent word to Philip the Second declaring that what had happened was divine providence and asking for his monarch’s support, both spiritual and military. Privately Philip was livid, mocking his commander for not knowing Britain from Wight, but he was also shrewd enough to realise what a publicity coup the occupation of the Island could be.
Medina-Sidonia was permitted to place his own coat of arms upon the flag of Burgundy itself, then the flag of the entire Spanish nation. There is speculation that this was done as a deliberate insult to the English. The flag uses the same colours as the English cross of St. George, yet turned them into the St. Andrews cross used by England’s other enemy, the Scots. Not only that, but this cross is a barbed aggressive one, where often such cross based flags have a peaceful simplicity.
No wonder then that when the UK was negotiating its entry into the Union of Europe, in 1976, the issue of changing the Wight flag was raised, unsuccessfully as always. From a British point of view, or should I say English, it is hard to appreciate just how proud of their flag Wightinos are. It is everywhere on the island and huge versions of it continue to fly from the highest points of all Wight’s north-coast castles.
Wight nowadays is the Spain of the North that we have now been able to holiday in for nearly a century, but it might still not have been so. The initial English counter attack from across the Solent was immediate, but the mighty English navy had now been reduced to little more than glorified troop-carriers and the troops were not up to the job. The first Battle of Medina, on the 2nd of September 1588, was a rout, despite the attempts of (English) historians to dress it up as a David and Goliath struggle. The fact is it was a hasty and foolishly mounted attack that was doomed from the start.
Expecting the Spanish to start the invasion proper at any moment the English assembled a mighty force at Portsmouth that winter. Spanish re-supplies were harried all the way up the English Channel, yet the English must have known that, with the Spanish ashore, they had lost their biggest advantage.
Vice-Admiral Francis Drake commanded the English re-invasion force. He had taken personal responsibility for the loss of Wight, having commanded the English fleet the previous year, and had made a promise to Queen Elizabeth, reportedly inconsolable at the loss of a part of her realm, that he would deliver Wight back to her or die trying. He was also reported to be still smarting from the insults poured on him for his arrogance in continuing to play bowls when told of the approach of the Spanish fleet. On March 17th 1589 the Solent became the scene of the opening chapter of the bloodiest battle ever fought on British soil, at least from an English perspective. The English fleet had been heavily guarded at Portsmouth all winter and now it set out to cross the Solent in force. The Spanish response was devastating and an early example of the folly of a frontal assault, driven more by hope of glory than military logic.
One quarter of the fleet of six royal galleons, 60 English armed merchantmen, 60 Dutch flyboats and about 20 pinnaces, carrying 19,000 troops, 4,000 sailors and 1,500 officers, failed to make it to the Island, cut down by a capacity for cannon-fire that the Spanish had spent the previous months perfecting after learning the lessons of their near defeat at Gravelines. Those that did land at Cowes aimed to rapidly take the town, as a base to retake the rest of Wight. The town burned as two massive armies faced one another in the largest urban battle in history prior to Stalingrad. The Spanish Tercios “pike and powder” tactics, which inspired the later New Model Army in the English Civil War, turned out to be more than a match for the English force. Both sides had been told by their commanders that there was no possibility of retreat from the Island and Drake, having landed himself, ordered the English fleet to stand off the coast and not allow any soldier to board until an English victory was complete.
Losses on both sides were unbelievably heavy. It is estimated that within the first 6 hours of fighting the English land-forces had been reduced by half, while Spanish losses were about a third, both sides having begun the battle with about equal numbers. Vice-Admiral Drake was last recorded as attempting to organise a direct assault on Castillo de Cowes (Cowes Castle), but his body was never found. It is entirely possible, given the nature of the battle, that there was no body.
Walking the streets of Cowes, which retains its English name, it is impossible to imagine what happened here. In a few hours the English town was effectively destroyed and the town has none of the traces of medieval English architecture that other Wight towns and villages have, nestled among its more Spanish buildings.
The Needles and Bahía de Alumbre
After the Second Battle of Medina the English and Spanish had to come to terms. Both had been shown how bloody fighting one another on land could be. In the Treaty of Solent, signed at the deck rails of docked Spanish and English ships at a distance equal from English and Spanish territory, it was agreed that the Spanish would make no further attempt to invade Britain, but this was at a cost that many think caused the 56 year old Queen Elizabeth to retreat further into her “Virgin Queen” persona: the concession of part of England to a foreign power. The reign of the Tudors was effectively over. The succession of the Stuarts on New Years Day 1600 was almost a relief to England.
In the long run England’s fortunes do not seem to have been much harmed by the taking of Wight. The period of Imperialism and Empire still followed, while the presence of a Spanish Catholic enclave just off the coast actually strengthened the Protestant resolve of the English, the Irish taking the unfortunate brunt of this over the following century.
In 1607 the entire Spanish fleet was destroyed by the English and Dutch in the Battle of Gibraltar, a battle that one cannot imagine having taken place without the events on Wight. Then in 1704, during the Spanish War of Succession, English and Dutch troops landed on Gibraltar, in southern Spain, and took “The Wight Rock” as it has been called in jest ever since. England’s revenge on Spain was complete. In the Treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, both nations finally and unequivocally recognised the others’ sovereignty over Gibraltar and Wight.
Since that time Wight has developed relatively quietly as a Spanish colony. It’s unusual combination of beautiful English countryside and Spanish culture has made it a favourite place to visit since the mid 18th Century, though direct travel from England to Wight was still not possible until the end of the First World War, the Channel Islands controversially providing the quickest route from England throughout the Nineteenth Century.
In the Spanish Civil War Wight was strongly Republican, and remained so until the restoration of the Spanish monarchy in 1975, with the tacit support of successive UK governments. The only surviving Republican enclave was nicknamed the “Spanish Taiwan” and became a haven for many Leading Spaniards after Franco’s victory in 1939. During World War Two the communist Republicans became ever more popular after the Soviet Union became an ally of the British.
With the coming of the Cold War, relations became a little more tense and there were fears that Wight could become a base for Russian spies, none of which seem to have had any foundation. In reality, as the de facto government of Wight realised it could exploit its status as the nearest foreign country to the UK, barring the Irish border, the Island became something of a tax-haven and tourism was encouraged as the Republicans’ communist rhetoric reduced somewhat. It never, though, became the haven for British criminals that Franco’s Spain became, having its own extradition treaty with the UK.
When you drive around the Island nowadays the place is a constant surprise. In one village the Catholic church will be the English original, while in the next it is purely Spanish in design. More controversial is the Bullring in Brading de Toros, where it has long been considered an honour for the best matadors in Spain to appear.
There are, of course, the incredible castles of the north coast defences, of which Castillo de Tercios is my personal favourite. Then, of course, there is the wonderful town of Puerto Medina and the Castillo de Don Alonso, named after Don Alonso Pérez de Guzmán el Bueno, the Seventh Duke of Medina-Sidonia, the man who made the decision to take the island so many centuries ago. The fact that the Island’s main river was called the Medina is one piece of “evidence” for the divine providence that he reported to Philip II, and was also the reason why this, the largest town on the island, was renamed after that river. The Castillo de Don Alonso lies to the west of Puerto Medina and dominates the town, having been extensively redeveloped first by the English, in the years leading up to the invasion, then by the Spanish even more so. Its fusion of styles is fascinating.
In fact the word Medina is perhaps overused on Wight. The full name of the eastern town where the Spanish first landed is Nuevo Medina-Sidonia de la Mar, this time named after the man and not the river in the style of the Duke’s native Cadiz. “El Duque”, as he is referred to on the Island, regarded the taking of Wight as his greatest achievement, not without reason. Though he did not live there for most of the remainder of his life, his tomb lies on the southernmost tip of the island at Punto de Santo Catherine, near the spectacular Blackgang Chine, and is well worth a visit.
The people of Wight are a curious fusion of the Spanish and English, as is their local dialect. Not all the English left after the invasion and there was a lot of intermarriage, as reflected to this day in surnames, many of which are still very Anglophone. There has also been a large influx of new Spaniards, particularly in the 20th Century, and their presence can be resented. Wight and Gibraltar signed a Treaty of Friendship in 1976, following centuries of mutual dislike, and there is even a sizable Gibraltarian presence on the island.
One cannot help wondering exactly what effect the taking of part of England has had on our history. Without it we would now count ourselves uninvaded in 1000 years, rather than just 400. Would this have been better for us as a nation or worse? We will never know.
Though I am happy with the history upto 1600, the more modern history is very much linked with our own, partly for ironic effect, partly through laziness after all the research that the main section needed:
The Wight wind of change
Wight slowly becomes visible as a misty rising ridge as you drive west along the coast of Sussex. These days the sight of this beautiful island is barely more than another part of the coastal view, so it is sometimes difficult to appreciate just what the looming presence of this island has meant to the British psyche for the last four centuries.
The Solent, throughout the UK’s naval history, should have been our main port and the home of our Navy, as indeed it was until 1588. Instead the events of that year forced the Navy to focus on the Severn ports and Liverpool, while the Solent became the scene of the longest military stand-off in European history, with the Kingdoms of Spain and England eying each other suspiciously across a water-divide that is little more than a kilometre wide at its narrowest point.
Boarding the Ferry at Lymington, overlooked by its impressive example of an English Solent Castle, brings home how tense this stand-off must have been. But how many people know that the occupation of la Isla de Wight was the result of a near naval and military disaster for Spain and that arguably the only reason why Wight is Spanish is due to an easterly wind?
Wight was a bizarre consolation prize for Philip the Second of Spain, following the failure of his Armada to invade England. This impressive fleet, made up of 130 Warships, had fought its way up the English Channel, sheltering briefly at Wight, before making for Dunkirk to rendezvous with the Duke of Palma’s huge invasion army, the dreaded Tercios, with their deadly combination of Pikemen, gunpowder and almost insane bravery. At this point the Spanish were highly vulnerable to an English attack and the whims of the weather.
At the Battle of Gravelines the English set their fire-ships towards the Spanish fleet and at that point history might have played out in a very different way. Fortunately for the Spanish a good easterly wind enabled them to break their defensive formation and make west with haste, though losing 23 ships in the process along with countless lives. Now pursued by the more maneuverable English fleet, and carrying a full invasion army, the Spanish commander, Admiral Alonso de Guzmán El Bueno, 7th Duke of Medina Sidonia, was faced with an impossible situation.
What he did next has been described by some as both one of the biggest acts of naval cowardice and raw Military guts in history. Medina-Sidonia was an unwilling commander of his Armada, preferring dry land at all costs. It can only be assumed that he calculated that the best thing to do with a strong army on a fleet that is being outmaneuvered at every turn is to land that army and regroup. Recalling the sheltered waters of Wight, his army landed at Medina de la Mar (Then called Sandown) on August the Fifteenth 1588, while the fleet sheltered in the now silted up Asilo de Brading (Brading Haven).
What followed turned this sleepy island into the sight of one of the bloodiest invasion battles in English history, the first since the Battle of Hastings over half a millennium earlier and the last to date. While there was extensive harrying of the sheltered Armada, the main concern of the now panicking English was to prevent a bridgehead being established at any cost. The local population were no match for the Spanish and their rapid advance west then north was a bloodbath that many English have still not forgiven the Spanish for.
The largest settlement in Wight was then called Newport. Medina-Sidonia knew that capturing this town was essential to repelling the arrival of a significant English force and his troops showed no mercy in ensuring that the town became theirs, effectively “sacking” the place. This part of the world had suffered many such atrocities at the hands of the French in previous centuries. The Sack of Newport was the invaders’ finale.
Arriving at Castillo de Tercios by ferry leaves one in little doubt that the Spanish intended never to lose this bridgehead so close to one of their main enemies. Its castle, the closest to the English mainland, was extended like a crusader-castle and comes across as a miniature Crac de Chevalier, all huge blank limestone walls and cannon-towers. This incredible castle gave the Spanish effective control of the western entrance to the Solent for a century and was never surpassed by the also impressive Hurst Castle on the opposite shore.
The flag of Wight
Flying from the highest turret of this castle is the flag that has taunted England ever since. Soon after his occupation of Wight, Medina-Sidonia sent word to Philip the Second declaring that what had happened was divine providence and asking for his monarch’s support, both spiritual and military. Privately Philip was livid, mocking his commander for not knowing Britain from Wight, but he was also shrewd enough to realise what a publicity coup the occupation of the Island could be.
Medina-Sidonia was permitted to place his own coat of arms upon the flag of Burgundy itself, then the flag of the entire Spanish nation. There is speculation that this was done as a deliberate insult to the English. The flag uses the same colours as the English cross of St. George, yet turned them into the St. Andrews cross used by England’s other enemy, the Scots. Not only that, but this cross is a barbed aggressive one, where often such cross based flags have a peaceful simplicity.
No wonder then that when the UK was negotiating its entry into the Union of Europe, in 1976, the issue of changing the Wight flag was raised, unsuccessfully as always. From a British point of view, or should I say English, it is hard to appreciate just how proud of their flag Wightinos are. It is everywhere on the island and huge versions of it continue to fly from the highest points of all Wight’s north-coast castles.
Wight nowadays is the Spain of the North that we have now been able to holiday in for nearly a century, but it might still not have been so. The initial English counter attack from across the Solent was immediate, but the mighty English navy had now been reduced to little more than glorified troop-carriers and the troops were not up to the job. The first Battle of Medina, on the 2nd of September 1588, was a rout, despite the attempts of (English) historians to dress it up as a David and Goliath struggle. The fact is it was a hasty and foolishly mounted attack that was doomed from the start.
Expecting the Spanish to start the invasion proper at any moment the English assembled a mighty force at Portsmouth that winter. Spanish re-supplies were harried all the way up the English Channel, yet the English must have known that, with the Spanish ashore, they had lost their biggest advantage.
Vice-Admiral Francis Drake commanded the English re-invasion force. He had taken personal responsibility for the loss of Wight, having commanded the English fleet the previous year, and had made a promise to Queen Elizabeth, reportedly inconsolable at the loss of a part of her realm, that he would deliver Wight back to her or die trying. He was also reported to be still smarting from the insults poured on him for his arrogance in continuing to play bowls when told of the approach of the Spanish fleet. On March 17th 1589 the Solent became the scene of the opening chapter of the bloodiest battle ever fought on British soil, at least from an English perspective. The English fleet had been heavily guarded at Portsmouth all winter and now it set out to cross the Solent in force. The Spanish response was devastating and an early example of the folly of a frontal assault, driven more by hope of glory than military logic.
One quarter of the fleet of six royal galleons, 60 English armed merchantmen, 60 Dutch flyboats and about 20 pinnaces, carrying 19,000 troops, 4,000 sailors and 1,500 officers, failed to make it to the Island, cut down by a capacity for cannon-fire that the Spanish had spent the previous months perfecting after learning the lessons of their near defeat at Gravelines. Those that did land at Cowes aimed to rapidly take the town, as a base to retake the rest of Wight. The town burned as two massive armies faced one another in the largest urban battle in history prior to Stalingrad. The Spanish Tercios “pike and powder” tactics, which inspired the later New Model Army in the English Civil War, turned out to be more than a match for the English force. Both sides had been told by their commanders that there was no possibility of retreat from the Island and Drake, having landed himself, ordered the English fleet to stand off the coast and not allow any soldier to board until an English victory was complete.
Losses on both sides were unbelievably heavy. It is estimated that within the first 6 hours of fighting the English land-forces had been reduced by half, while Spanish losses were about a third, both sides having begun the battle with about equal numbers. Vice-Admiral Drake was last recorded as attempting to organise a direct assault on Castillo de Cowes (Cowes Castle), but his body was never found. It is entirely possible, given the nature of the battle, that there was no body.
Walking the streets of Cowes, which retains its English name, it is impossible to imagine what happened here. In a few hours the English town was effectively destroyed and the town has none of the traces of medieval English architecture that other Wight towns and villages have, nestled among its more Spanish buildings.
The Needles and Bahía de Alumbre
After the Second Battle of Medina the English and Spanish had to come to terms. Both had been shown how bloody fighting one another on land could be. In the Treaty of Solent, signed at the deck rails of docked Spanish and English ships at a distance equal from English and Spanish territory, it was agreed that the Spanish would make no further attempt to invade Britain, but this was at a cost that many think caused the 56 year old Queen Elizabeth to retreat further into her “Virgin Queen” persona: the concession of part of England to a foreign power. The reign of the Tudors was effectively over. The succession of the Stuarts on New Years Day 1600 was almost a relief to England.
In the long run England’s fortunes do not seem to have been much harmed by the taking of Wight. The period of Imperialism and Empire still followed, while the presence of a Spanish Catholic enclave just off the coast actually strengthened the Protestant resolve of the English, the Irish taking the unfortunate brunt of this over the following century.
In 1607 the entire Spanish fleet was destroyed by the English and Dutch in the Battle of Gibraltar, a battle that one cannot imagine having taken place without the events on Wight. Then in 1704, during the Spanish War of Succession, English and Dutch troops landed on Gibraltar, in southern Spain, and took “The Wight Rock” as it has been called in jest ever since. England’s revenge on Spain was complete. In the Treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, both nations finally and unequivocally recognised the others’ sovereignty over Gibraltar and Wight.
Since that time Wight has developed relatively quietly as a Spanish colony. It’s unusual combination of beautiful English countryside and Spanish culture has made it a favourite place to visit since the mid 18th Century, though direct travel from England to Wight was still not possible until the end of the First World War, the Channel Islands controversially providing the quickest route from England throughout the Nineteenth Century.
In the Spanish Civil War Wight was strongly Republican, and remained so until the restoration of the Spanish monarchy in 1975, with the tacit support of successive UK governments. The only surviving Republican enclave was nicknamed the “Spanish Taiwan” and became a haven for many Leading Spaniards after Franco’s victory in 1939. During World War Two the communist Republicans became ever more popular after the Soviet Union became an ally of the British.
With the coming of the Cold War, relations became a little more tense and there were fears that Wight could become a base for Russian spies, none of which seem to have had any foundation. In reality, as the de facto government of Wight realised it could exploit its status as the nearest foreign country to the UK, barring the Irish border, the Island became something of a tax-haven and tourism was encouraged as the Republicans’ communist rhetoric reduced somewhat. It never, though, became the haven for British criminals that Franco’s Spain became, having its own extradition treaty with the UK.
When you drive around the Island nowadays the place is a constant surprise. In one village the Catholic church will be the English original, while in the next it is purely Spanish in design. More controversial is the Bullring in Brading de Toros, where it has long been considered an honour for the best matadors in Spain to appear.
There are, of course, the incredible castles of the north coast defences, of which Castillo de Tercios is my personal favourite. Then, of course, there is the wonderful town of Puerto Medina and the Castillo de Don Alonso, named after Don Alonso Pérez de Guzmán el Bueno, the Seventh Duke of Medina-Sidonia, the man who made the decision to take the island so many centuries ago. The fact that the Island’s main river was called the Medina is one piece of “evidence” for the divine providence that he reported to Philip II, and was also the reason why this, the largest town on the island, was renamed after that river. The Castillo de Don Alonso lies to the west of Puerto Medina and dominates the town, having been extensively redeveloped first by the English, in the years leading up to the invasion, then by the Spanish even more so. Its fusion of styles is fascinating.
In fact the word Medina is perhaps overused on Wight. The full name of the eastern town where the Spanish first landed is Nuevo Medina-Sidonia de la Mar, this time named after the man and not the river in the style of the Duke’s native Cadiz. “El Duque”, as he is referred to on the Island, regarded the taking of Wight as his greatest achievement, not without reason. Though he did not live there for most of the remainder of his life, his tomb lies on the southernmost tip of the island at Punto de Santo Catherine, near the spectacular Blackgang Chine, and is well worth a visit.
The people of Wight are a curious fusion of the Spanish and English, as is their local dialect. Not all the English left after the invasion and there was a lot of intermarriage, as reflected to this day in surnames, many of which are still very Anglophone. There has also been a large influx of new Spaniards, particularly in the 20th Century, and their presence can be resented. Wight and Gibraltar signed a Treaty of Friendship in 1976, following centuries of mutual dislike, and there is even a sizable Gibraltarian presence on the island.
One cannot help wondering exactly what effect the taking of part of England has had on our history. Without it we would now count ourselves uninvaded in 1000 years, rather than just 400. Would this have been better for us as a nation or worse? We will never know.
