ior in that of men; their hopes were supported
by the aid which they received from the land; and during four hours they
fought with the most determined bravery. Driven from the galleons, the
crews retreated to the second line of merchantmen, and renewed the contest
till they were finally compelled to save themselves on the shore. At two in
the afternoon every Spanish ship was in possession of the English, and in
flames. Still there remained the difficulty of working the fleet out of the
harbour in the teeth of the gale. About sunset they were out of reach of
the guns from the forts; the wind, by miracle, as Blake persuaded himself,
veered to the south-west, and the conquerors proceeded triumphantly out to
sea. This gallant action, though it failed of securing the treasure which
the protector chiefly sought, raised the reputation of Blake in every
part of Europe. Unfortunately the hero himself lived not to receive the
congratulations of his country. He had been during a great part of three
years at sea; the scurvy and dropsy wasted his constitution; and he
expired[b] in his fifty-ninth year,

[Sidenote a: A.D. 1657. April 20.]
[Sidenote b: A.D. 1657. August 7.]

as his ship, the St. George, entered the harbour of Plymouth.[1]

Blake had served with distinction in the army during the civil war; and the
knowledge of his talents and integrity induced the parliamentary leaders to
entrust him with the command of the fleet. For maritime tactics he relied
on the experience of others; his plans and his daring were exclusively his
own. He may claim the peculiar praise of having dispelled an illusion which
had hitherto cramped the operations of the British navy--a persuasion that
it was little short of madness to expose a ship at sea to the fire from a
battery on shore. The victories of Blake at Tunis and Santa Cruz served to
establish the contrary doctrine; and the seamen learned from his example
to despise the danger which had hitherto been deemed so formidable. Though
Cromwell prized his services, he doubted his attachment; and a suspicion
existed that the protector did not regret the death of one who professed to
fight for his country, not for the government. But he rendered that justice
to the dead, which he might perhaps have refused to the living, hero. He
publicly acknowledged his merit, honouring his bones with a funeral at the
national expense, and ordering them to be interred at Westminster, in Henry
the Seventh's chap