This bronze statue of Jules Verne in Vigo, Spain, was commissioned by the Women Entrepreneurs of Pontevedra and sculpted by José Morales. It is a fitting tribute to the novelist who made the area world-famous. 22
trast, Philip got 377 tons, the greatest windfall of any Spanish sovereign from a treasure fleet. Despite these well-known facts, hopeful treasure hunters mounted numerous expeditions across the centuries, which Verne’s book only served to encourage. Few of them recovered anything other than rusted cannon, barnacle-encrusted bottles, jugs, or iron pulleys presumably used for loading and unloading cargo. In recent years, the site is looked at less by looters and more by archaeologists armed with side-scan sonar (and government permits), surveying the bottom of Vigo Bay looking for further remains of these vessels. Overall, the allies considered the Battle of Vigo Bay a success, even if it did not produce fabulous riches. It soothed the sting of the Cádiz failure and persuaded the Portuguese king to provide access to Lisbon—a decided advantage. Rooke returned home a hero and would later help capture Gibraltar for the Anglo-Dutch alliance in 1704. Rooke retired from the navy the following year due to poor health. He died in 1709. Thomas Hopsonn received a knighthood from Queen Anne for his actions in the battle and soon afterwards retired from the navy. On the other side, the French suffered greater losses than the Spanish. Louis XIV keenly felt the destruction of so many ships of the line, whereas, fortunately for Philip, all but three of the
galleons lost by Spain were private merchant vessels. Despite the catastrophe, Louis absolved Château-Renault of any blame. The admiral became a marshal of France the following year and died in 1716. Manuel de Velasco was later a governor in Spanish America, but scandal dogged his administration, and he was recalled. And what of the visionary author who made Vigo Bay so famous? A handsome bronze statue next to the city’s Montero Rios Gardens honors his memory. Created by local artist José Morales and installed in 2005, it depicts Verne seated on the curling tentacles of a giant squid, a fitting tribute to the man whose visionary novels still fire the imagination. John S. Sledge is the senior architectural historian for the Mobile Historic Development Commission and a member of the National Book Critics Circle. He holds a bachelor’s degree in history and Spanish from Auburn University and a master’s in historic preservation from Middle Tennessee State University. Sledge is the author of seven books, including Southern Bound: A Gulf Coast Journalist on Books, Writers, and Literary Journeys of the Heart; The Mobile River; and The Gulf of Mexico: A Maritime History. He has been fascinated by the Battle of Vigo Bay since reading Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea in childhood, and visiting Vigo, Spain, as a college student.
photo by zarateman, cc by 1.0 via wikipedia commons
Within hours it was over. That evening, Rooke toured the harbor and tallied the enemy losses, among them Le Fort and its 76 guns “burnt;” L’Espérance “taken, but run ashore and bilged;” Le Solide of 56 guns “burnt;” and Le Triton, 42 guns, “taken afloat and in good condition, to be carried home.” The victory was total, every French and Spanish ship burned, sunk, or captured, with only minor damage to the Alliance, mostly on the Torbay—one witness said her foreyard was “burnt to a Cole” and that some of her gunports were “blewed off.” Casualty estimates vary, but range from highs of 2,000 for the Franco-Spanish and 800 for the allies, to, far more plausibly, 200 for the Franco-Spanish and 100 for the allies. The Battle of Vigo Bay probably looked and sounded much worse than it was with regard to loss of life. Almost as soon as the last guns sounded, salvage efforts began. Allied sailors secured their prizes and readied them for sea. A dozen French and Spanish ships survived the conflagration, but the British lost the galleon Santo Cristo de Maracaibo when she ran on a rock at the bay’s entrance and sank. Besides working to save these ships, the allies retrieved cannon, shot, anchors, and other usable materials from the wrecks. Since many had settled in shallow water, portions of the rig and superstructure remained above the water and early salvage efforts required little in the way of special equipment. Rooke knew that most of the silver had already been unloaded and said so at the time. Unfortunately for the allies, much else of what the galleons carried was destroyed or ruined by fire and salt water—the cotton, indigo, sugar, tobacco, and so on. Ironically, these perishables belonged to private British and Dutch merchants, who were eagerly awaiting their delivery to Amsterdam. Even though most of the silver was safely in Spanish hands, the allies managed to collect two tons and forward them to the London Mint. This was enough to cast commemorative Vigo coins. By con-
SEA HISTORY 177, WINTER 2021–22