"For many a year they will remember the two stout galleons of Manila." ~ The victory of the Spanish over the Dutch at the Battle of Naval de Manila, AD 1646

Illustration showing the Battle of Naval de Manila to appear in The Story of the Philippines. 

The more one delves into history, the more one is humbled by what one doesn’t know. Case in point...

March 15 is the anniversary of the beginning of a naval campaign fought between two colonial powers in the year 1646 half-a-world away from Europe. 

Having grown up in an English-speaking country, I often catch myself adopting the conventional historical view of the British navy as presented in literature and film as an unconquerable force. Their most common foes—the Spanish and the French—are normally presented as formidable but hapless. They are numerous enough to appear to be a challenge, but ineptitude, laziness and cowardice always lead to their undoing. This perspective creates an impoverished knowledge of naval history which tends to ignore instances where the naval arms of nations not Britain achieve great victories.

One such victory which I have only encountered very recently (while editing a forthcoming book entitled The Story of the Philippines by Phillip Campbell) is La Naval de Manila—a series of naval battles between the Spanish and Dutch in the Philippine archipelago that decided which European power would rule the Philippines for the next 250 years. Featuring an earthquake, desperate acts of courage, five against-all-odds battles, and a healthy amount of divine intervention, La Naval de Manila has all the elements of a fine epic novel, let alone a thrilling action-adventure movie.

The battle pitted a fleet of eighteen well-armed Dutch corsairs against the scanty forces that the Spanish could assemble to meet the threat. The aim of the Dutch was nothing less than to wrest the Philippines from the Spanish and capture their treasure fleet from New Spain (Mexico). To accomplish this feat, the Dutch organized their ships into three squadrons. These were meant to coordinate their attacks at separate points and thereby spread thin what little defense the Spanish could muster.

Further hampering the Spanish, the capital city of their Philippine possessions—Manila—was a wreck, literally. The city had been rocked four months before by a tremendous earthquake as well as several aftershocks. Describing the magnitude of the quake, Fr. Joseph Fayol, an eyewitness, wrote:

In the first shock, one hundred and fifty of the finest buildings, which in other cities would be called palaces, were totally destroyed; all the other houses were so damaged and dangerous that it has been necessary to demolish them completely. It may be said with truth that only a semblance of Manila remains....Whole Indian villages were overthrown, as their huts are built of so light materials, bamboos and palm-leaves; and hills were leveled. Rivers were dried, which afterward flowed again; others leaving their beds, inundated the villages; great fissures and even chasms, appeared in the open fields. In the Manila River, the disturbance and commotion in its waves was so great that it seemed as if they would flood all the country. [Fayol, Relation of the events on sea and land in the Filipinas Islands...]

To meet the Dutch threat, the Spanish pressed two huge galleons into service, the Encarnación and the Rosario. These already ancient vessels had recently arrived from the arduous journey from Nueva España and were in rough shape. Though ponderous, these great ships possessed a powerful array of weaponry, which was further augmented by guns stripped from forts on land, as described by Fr. Fayol:

In [the Encarnación] were mounted thirty-four pieces of artillery, all of bronze and of the reinforced class, which variously carried balls of thirty, twenty-five, and eighteen pounds. The [Rosario] was equipped with as many as thirty pieces, of the same capacity—although on account of the deficiency in this sort of artillery, it was necessary to dismantle some posts in the fortifications of this city and of Cavite.

The governor-general of the Philippines, Don Diego Fajardo, chose General Lorenzo de Orella as commander and chief of the Spanish squadron. Fr. Fayol offers this heroic description of Don Orella:

...General Lorenzo de Orella y Ugalde, a Biscayan, under whose charge the vessels had sailed from Acapulco [was chosen] not only because of his proved bravery, his experience in the art of war, and his services and commands in both the Northern and Southern Seas, as well as in these islands (particularly in Mindanao, where he fought hand-to-hand with a gigantic Moro and killed him), but because of his well-known Christian spirit of modesty—which, for success, are no less important than valor.

Not trusting to mere earthly power, however, Don Fajardo agreed to allow four priests to accompany the flotilla, two in each ship. As both ships bore religious names, they were sent forth under the protection of Our Lady, the Virgin Mary. Fr. Fayol explains:

As a result of excellent teaching and the fervor of these fathers, arrangements were made that all of the men should, in the first place, purify their consciences with the holy sacraments of penance and communion; that they should take as their special patron saint the Virgin of the Rosary; that in order to bind her further, they should vow to her a feast-day in thanksgiving for the victories which they expected to receive through her agency; and that every day all should recite their prayers aloud, on their knees, and in two choirs—the prayers of the rosary before our Lady's image, the litanies of the most holy name of Mary, and finally an act of contrition.

Beyond these acts of piety, Don Fajardo caused the Blessed Sacrament to be exposed in several churches throughout Manila from the time of the departure of the galleons until their expected return. 

When all was made as ready as temporal and spiritual efforts would allow, the Spanish ships boldly sallied forth to meet the more numerous Dutch in what should have been a very lop-sided affair. However, as Fr. Fayol admits, the Spanish had one thing going in their favor. The hoped-for coordination of the Dutch fleets failed and each one arrived on station at different times, allowing the Spanish the opportunity to fight each of them in detail. The first fleet arrived in Spanish waters in early March and were detected by the Spanish on March 15. Fr. Fayol provides an excellent account of the battle which followed, and I am only too happy to allow his voice to describe the proceedings:  

On arriving at the entrances of Mariveles, the [Spanish] ships were placed in battle array, the artillery loaded, the matches lighted and the linstocks ready, the rigging free, and other preparations made. This was done because the sentinels [on Mariveles Island] warned our men that the enemy were, with their squadron, not far from that place; and that they might expect at any moment to encounter the Dutch—although in fact the latter were not descried until the fifteenth of the said month of March. At nine o'clock in the morning of that day, our almiranta [the Rosario] which had pushed ahead of the flagship perhaps half a league, and was sailing with a northwest wind—fired two cannon-shots and lowered the maintop-sail as a signal that it descried the enemy. The flagship put about, and followed her, and from the maintop they soon saw a sail in the distance, but it was impossible to overtake it; and it soon disappeared, because it was favored by a fresher wind than our ships had.

After that, our galleons were left becalmed until one o'clock; and at that hour were descried from the flagship four hostile sails, which were sailing toward her aft, with an east wind. It was two hours before they reached the flagship, and in that space of time the men were stationed, the ships cleared, the posts reconnoitered, and all other arrangements made, both spiritual and temporal, required by the occasion. The almiranta fell two ship-lengths astern of the flagship, and in this position the ships awaited the enemy, in order to fight them.

As soon as the enemy came near, they extended all their ships, and without attempting to give a broadside to our flagship, passed, in line to larboard, and the enemy's flagship began the battle by firing a cannon. Our commander immediately commanded that response be made with two shots—one with a thirty-pound ball and a cylinder of the same weight, which tore open all their cutwater at the bow. The enemy's ship went on in this condition, and the others continued to exchange shots with our flagship. Recognizing their own strength, the enemy tried to approach the almiranta, which they supposed was not so well armed, being a smaller ship. But they were received with equal valor and spirit on our side, our vessels firing so often and throwing so many balls that they could not be counted.

The fight lasted about five hours, and the mortality and damage were so great that all the anxiety that the heretics had felt to reach our ships when they thought to conquer us was now directed to separating themselves from us. They anxiously awaited the night, which was now approaching, to make their cowardly escape, which they did with lights extinguished. But the enemy's almiranta did not succeed in doing this in safety. It had been the most persistent in the attack upon our flagship, and remained to our leeward. It was so badly damaged that its cannon could not be fired, and hardly could it flee. Our ship was so near it that our commander had the men ready at the bow to board the Dutch ship, but the darkness of night forced us to abandon the chase, on account of the danger from the shoals which the pilots declared were in that place. It was noticed that the enemy did not use lanterns as they had formerly done, seeking protection for their armada. Our commander ordered that they be used in our ships, and that the lights be allowed to shine very brightly, in order that the enemy might come to look for us.

Our people fully intended to renew the pursuit at daybreak, to finish their defeat, but when day came our two galleons found themselves alone, and did not know what course the enemy had taken. They followed the Dutch, in the direction which they thought most probable, as far as Cape Bojeador, which is at the farthest end of this island of Manila. From there our ships returned, as the coasts were now secure, to the port of Bolinao, in order to send to this city dispatches announcing the result of the battle.

This was regarded as a brilliant victory, not only because of the disparity in the number of ships, but because of the little damage our side had sustained. In that battle not a man was killed, and comparatively few were wounded. It was evident that the enemy's loss was great, although we could not then ascertain it correctly. But afterwards we learned that many had been killed and wounded, and that two of their vessels were rendered useless. 

This Spanish victory was only the first in a series of battles which would take place over the next seven months. In each, the elderly Spanish galleons would prove too much for their nimble Dutch adversaries, continuously repulsing their attacks but proving too slow and poorly manned to capture them. 

After the third battle, Don Orella retired and was replaced by Don Sebastian Lopez who was in command of the Spanish ships when the Dutch made their final effort in October of 1646. This battle again ended in failure for the Dutch whose flagship was barely able to escape after a severe mauling. This repulse effectively ended Dutch pretensions in the Philippines. Fr. Fayol concludes his accounts of the battles, saying: 

All these exploits are worthy of great praise...According to the estimate made by well-informed persons, although we fired, in these battles, over 2,000 cannon-shots, and the enemy over five thousand, we had only fourteen killed, and comparatively few wounded. While the enemy, besides the vessels which we sank, arrived at their forts so damaged, and had lost so many men, that for many a year they will remember the two stout galleons of Manila....

Thanksgiving was celebrated by a solemn fiesta, a procession, divine worship, and [a parade of] the squadron, with other demonstrations in fulfillment of the vow made to the Virgin of the Rosary, the city making a new vow to continue this anniversary every year.

[All of the above quotes are taken from Fray Joseph Fayol's Relation of the events on sea and land in the Filipinas Islands during the recent years, until the earthquake and destruction on the feast of St. Andrews in 1645; and the battles and naval victories over the Dutch in 1646. The English translation of this work is taken from The Philippine Islands, 1493-1898, Volumes 34-35, edited by Emma Helen Blair, James Alexander Robertson, 1906.]

The image of Our Lady of La Naval de Manila.

And indeed, this the Fiesta of La Naval de Manila continues to be celebrated in the Philippines to this day. The feast includes a procession of the statue of Our Lady of the Most Holy Rosary of La Naval de Manila, a life-sized figure of the Blessed Virgin that predates the battles, having been carved from elephant ivory in AD 1593. A look at the historical celebration of this feast and the statue of our Lady may be found here. 

Given the circumstances of the battles, the victories were declared miraculous in nature by the Archdiocese of Manila in 1662. Pope St. Pius X bestowed a canonical crown upon the image in 1907, while Ven. Pius XII recognized the image in an Apostolic letter sent on the 300th anniversary of the victories in 1946. Pope St. John Paul II blessed the statue at a public Mass during his visit to the Philippines in 1981.