victory; with a horde of towering hulks, of double-deckers and
store-ships manned by slaves and yellow-skinned retainers, who
despised big guns and loved a close encounter with hand thrusts and
push of pike. Like a huge, wooden octopus this arrogant fleet of
Arragon moved its tentacles around the saucy, new-made pinnaces of the
tight little isle.

"The boats of the English were very nimble and of good steerage,"
writes a Spaniard, "so that the English did with them as they desired.
And our ships being very heavy compared with the lightness of those of
the enemy, it was impossible to come to hand-stroke with them."

This tells the whole story. With a light wind astern--the war ships of
the English bore down easily upon the heavy-bottomed Spanish galleons
and fired their guns at the hulls of the enemy.

"Don't waste your balls upon the rigging," cried Drake through a
trumpet. "Sight low and sink 'em if you can. But keep away from the
grappling hooks so's not to let 'em get hold of you. If they once
do--you're lost!"

Now was the sound of splitting of boards, as the solid shot pumped
great holes in the sides of the high rocking galleons. Dense clouds of
vapor hung over the struggling combatants--partly from a sea fog which
the July sun had not thoroughly burned away, and partly from the
spitting mouths of the cannon. Fire burst from the decks, the roar of
the guns was intermingled with the shrill wails of the slaves, the
guttural cries of the seamen, the screams of the wounded and the
derisive howls of those maddened by battle. The decks were crimson
with blood; sails split and tore as the chain-shot hummed through the
rigging, and the sharp twang of the arquebusques was mingled with the
crash of long-barrelled muskets.

No men can fight like those who are defending their own homes. At
Gettysburg, the Army of the Potomac--twice beaten in an attack upon
the South in the enemy's country--struggled as it had never done
before,--and won. It had nowhere battled as when the foe was pushing
it back upon its own soil and cities.

So here--no fighters ever bled as did the English when the greedy
hands of Spain were clutching at their shores. The light ships hung
near the Spaniards at a distance and did not board until spars were
down and the great rakish hulls were part helpless. Then--with a wild
cheer--the little galleons--often two at a time--would grapple with
the enemy and board--cutlasses swinging, pistols spitting,