piratediver
Sr. Member
Northern Ireland: In the Armada's wake
Simon Calder traces Spanish gold from Antrim's coast to Belfast, then sums
up the city's appeal
Today, the jagged finger of rock that jabs north from the coast of County
Antrim constitutes part of Ireland's most spectacular shoreline. Lacada
Point stands barely a mile east of Northern Ireland's geological icon, the
Giant's Causeway. Beyond that familiar, naturally hexagonal masonry lie
dangerous waters that sailors accustomed to Ulster's coast have long known
about. Four centuries ago, though, they claimed a Spanish warship and 1,300
lives.
The Girona, a galleass (powered by both sails and oars) was part of the
Armada: 131 ships despatched by Philip II as part of an offensive designed
to overthrow Queen Elizabeth's Protestantism in England and strengthen
Spanish hegemony in the Low Countries. She was wrecked a long way from home,
in waters that the crew never thought they would have to negotiate and for
which they were quite unprepared.
On a fine October day in 2009, the location looks tame. Tourists scamper
across the 40,000 tesselated columns of the Giant's Causeway, gently rinsed
by a calm Atlantic: "rare and superlative natural phenomena", which is why
the shore joined the Unesco World Heritage List. The National Trust, which
looks after the site, encourages visitors to go beyond the strange eruptions
and climb the cliff path. Few do - a shame, because this provides both a
grand view and a better understanding of the fate of the Girona.
The invasion plan hinged on the Armada providing support for tens of
thousands of troops who would board barges at the closest part of the
Spanish Netherlands to England: Gravelines (now in French Flanders, and the
terminus for Norfolkline ferries from Dover.) .
Almost at once things began to go wrong for the "Great and Most Fortunate
Navy", with poor July weather in the Bay of Biscay to the Channel impeding
their progress.
Much of the English fleet was moored in Plymouth, and set off in pursuit of
the Spanish despite their numerical and military disadvantage; Spain's
national coffers, bolstered by earnings from Latin America, had paid for the
best fleet on the planet. But a combination of indecisive leadership,
disorganisation among the land-based forces and nimble tactics from Sir
Francis Drake saw them off.
The surviving ships were ordered to take the long and dangerous route back
to the safety of Iberia: heading north across the North Sea, then sailing
around the far north of Scotland and the north coast of Ireland before
finally running south to Spain.
That, at least, was the theory. In practice, only half the fleet that had
set sail to beat the English made it back to Spain. Many of the ships were
wrecked on the coast of Ireland, which had recently fallen under the control
of the Elizabethan government in London. Any seaman lucky enough to survive
a shipwreck in theory faced summary execution.
The captain of the Girona, Don Alonso Martinez de Levia, took the risk of
landing at Killybegs in Donegal to carry out some makeshift repairs and pick
up sailors from other ships. She then made for Scotland. At midnight on 26
October 1588, as the Girona made her way east along the coast, she struck a
reef just offshore Lacada Point. Only a handful of men survived the wreck;
they were rescued and led to safety by a local lad, Sorley Boy McConnell.
On any normal stretch of coastline this would be quite sufficient a story to
draw visitors. But this part of the County Antrim shore is far from
ordinary, thanks to Giant's Causeway - attributed variously to supercooled
basalt and the island-hopping antics of the legendary Finn MacCool. Tear
yourself away from this collision of geology and geometry and start climbing
towards an equally odd sight: a set of what appear to be organ pipes,
soaring skyward from the side of a hill.
Climb the Shepherd's Steps (161 of them), and the reward is a view that
reveals Donegal retreating into the mist to the North-West, while you might
make out the ghostly shores of Scotland to the North-East.
You will certainly observe the tectonic calamities that have created the
beautiful Antrim coast: an arm of rock laid bare by the elements, exposing
strata that tick off the millennia.
The ship's cargo lay undisturbed for almost four centuries at at what became
known as Port na Spaniag. In 1967, a team of divers led by a Belgian marine
archaeologist, Robert Sténuit, arrived to excavate the wreck. They surfaced
with 12,000 objects, including a trove of treasure that originated in
Spain's American colonies.
Naval officers aboard the Girona, and their comrades in the rest of Philip
II's fleet, carried a remarkable amount of jewellery made from New World
gold. The best of the collection is on display from next Thursday at the
refurbished Ulster Museum, itself something of a treasure rescued from an
unpromising combination of 1920s neo-classicism and 1970s concrete
extension.
Walk in to the white cube of the Ulster Museum's newly created atrium and
you feel you have stepped into the latest gallery in Berlin or Barcelona
rather than Belfast. Steel and glass are deployed to excellent effect to
expose the museum's promise and invite you to explore. The museum has the
tricky brief of being all things to all visitors, from stuffed owls to fine
art and from ancient Egypt to the Troubles. A £17m makeover has opened up
the museum, both internally and to the handsome gardens in which it stands,
with the added benefit of fine views across the city and much more natural
light.
All that glisters on an Ulster afternoon, in the Armada Gallery of the
History Zone at least, is gold that arrived in Northern Ireland in the
possession of doomed Spaniards. The crucifixes, chains and charms now on
display proved futile in delivering salvation. Most ornate of all is the a
gold salamander, studded with rubies, still dazzling after four centuries of
submersion in the Atlantic.
"I sent the Armada against men," said Philip II when the remnants of his
Great and Most Fortunate Navy limped back to Spain, "not God's winds and
waves".
Pirate Diver
Simon Calder traces Spanish gold from Antrim's coast to Belfast, then sums
up the city's appeal
Today, the jagged finger of rock that jabs north from the coast of County
Antrim constitutes part of Ireland's most spectacular shoreline. Lacada
Point stands barely a mile east of Northern Ireland's geological icon, the
Giant's Causeway. Beyond that familiar, naturally hexagonal masonry lie
dangerous waters that sailors accustomed to Ulster's coast have long known
about. Four centuries ago, though, they claimed a Spanish warship and 1,300
lives.
The Girona, a galleass (powered by both sails and oars) was part of the
Armada: 131 ships despatched by Philip II as part of an offensive designed
to overthrow Queen Elizabeth's Protestantism in England and strengthen
Spanish hegemony in the Low Countries. She was wrecked a long way from home,
in waters that the crew never thought they would have to negotiate and for
which they were quite unprepared.
On a fine October day in 2009, the location looks tame. Tourists scamper
across the 40,000 tesselated columns of the Giant's Causeway, gently rinsed
by a calm Atlantic: "rare and superlative natural phenomena", which is why
the shore joined the Unesco World Heritage List. The National Trust, which
looks after the site, encourages visitors to go beyond the strange eruptions
and climb the cliff path. Few do - a shame, because this provides both a
grand view and a better understanding of the fate of the Girona.
The invasion plan hinged on the Armada providing support for tens of
thousands of troops who would board barges at the closest part of the
Spanish Netherlands to England: Gravelines (now in French Flanders, and the
terminus for Norfolkline ferries from Dover.) .
Almost at once things began to go wrong for the "Great and Most Fortunate
Navy", with poor July weather in the Bay of Biscay to the Channel impeding
their progress.
Much of the English fleet was moored in Plymouth, and set off in pursuit of
the Spanish despite their numerical and military disadvantage; Spain's
national coffers, bolstered by earnings from Latin America, had paid for the
best fleet on the planet. But a combination of indecisive leadership,
disorganisation among the land-based forces and nimble tactics from Sir
Francis Drake saw them off.
The surviving ships were ordered to take the long and dangerous route back
to the safety of Iberia: heading north across the North Sea, then sailing
around the far north of Scotland and the north coast of Ireland before
finally running south to Spain.
That, at least, was the theory. In practice, only half the fleet that had
set sail to beat the English made it back to Spain. Many of the ships were
wrecked on the coast of Ireland, which had recently fallen under the control
of the Elizabethan government in London. Any seaman lucky enough to survive
a shipwreck in theory faced summary execution.
The captain of the Girona, Don Alonso Martinez de Levia, took the risk of
landing at Killybegs in Donegal to carry out some makeshift repairs and pick
up sailors from other ships. She then made for Scotland. At midnight on 26
October 1588, as the Girona made her way east along the coast, she struck a
reef just offshore Lacada Point. Only a handful of men survived the wreck;
they were rescued and led to safety by a local lad, Sorley Boy McConnell.
On any normal stretch of coastline this would be quite sufficient a story to
draw visitors. But this part of the County Antrim shore is far from
ordinary, thanks to Giant's Causeway - attributed variously to supercooled
basalt and the island-hopping antics of the legendary Finn MacCool. Tear
yourself away from this collision of geology and geometry and start climbing
towards an equally odd sight: a set of what appear to be organ pipes,
soaring skyward from the side of a hill.
Climb the Shepherd's Steps (161 of them), and the reward is a view that
reveals Donegal retreating into the mist to the North-West, while you might
make out the ghostly shores of Scotland to the North-East.
You will certainly observe the tectonic calamities that have created the
beautiful Antrim coast: an arm of rock laid bare by the elements, exposing
strata that tick off the millennia.
The ship's cargo lay undisturbed for almost four centuries at at what became
known as Port na Spaniag. In 1967, a team of divers led by a Belgian marine
archaeologist, Robert Sténuit, arrived to excavate the wreck. They surfaced
with 12,000 objects, including a trove of treasure that originated in
Spain's American colonies.
Naval officers aboard the Girona, and their comrades in the rest of Philip
II's fleet, carried a remarkable amount of jewellery made from New World
gold. The best of the collection is on display from next Thursday at the
refurbished Ulster Museum, itself something of a treasure rescued from an
unpromising combination of 1920s neo-classicism and 1970s concrete
extension.
Walk in to the white cube of the Ulster Museum's newly created atrium and
you feel you have stepped into the latest gallery in Berlin or Barcelona
rather than Belfast. Steel and glass are deployed to excellent effect to
expose the museum's promise and invite you to explore. The museum has the
tricky brief of being all things to all visitors, from stuffed owls to fine
art and from ancient Egypt to the Troubles. A £17m makeover has opened up
the museum, both internally and to the handsome gardens in which it stands,
with the added benefit of fine views across the city and much more natural
light.
All that glisters on an Ulster afternoon, in the Armada Gallery of the
History Zone at least, is gold that arrived in Northern Ireland in the
possession of doomed Spaniards. The crucifixes, chains and charms now on
display proved futile in delivering salvation. Most ornate of all is the a
gold salamander, studded with rubies, still dazzling after four centuries of
submersion in the Atlantic.
"I sent the Armada against men," said Philip II when the remnants of his
Great and Most Fortunate Navy limped back to Spain, "not God's winds and
waves".
Pirate Diver
