in the Spanish navy. They had
overpowered Grenville's ship at the Azores. Ralegh determined 'to be
revenged for the Revenge, or to second her with mine own life.' He at
once cannonaded them while waiting for the fly-boats, which were to
board. The five supporting ships were at hand, but behind. Essex in his
flagship now came up. He was eager to join, and anchored beside him.
After a struggle of three hours the Warspright was near sinking. Ralegh
was rowed to Essex's ship. He told the Earl he meant, in default of the
fly-boats, to board from his ship: 'To burn or sink is the same loss;
and I must endure one or the other.' 'I will second you upon my honour,'
cried Essex. Ralegh, on his return after a quarter of an hour's absence,
found that the Nonparilla and the Rainbow had headed the Warspright.
Thomas Howard had on board his ship the Lord Admiral. Nevertheless,
Ralegh would not yield precedence, 'holding mine own reputation dearest,
and remembering my great duty to her Majesty.' Determined to be 'single
in the head of all,' he pushed between the Nonparilla and Rainbow, and
'thrust himself athwart the channel, so as I was sure none should
outstart me again for that day.' Vere pulled the Rainbow close up by a
hawser he had ordered to be fastened to the Warspright's side. But
Ralegh's sailors cut it; and back slipped into his place the Marshal,
'whom,' writes Ralegh, 'I guarded, all but his very prow, from the sight
of the enemy.' At length he proceeded to grapple the St. Philip. His
companions were following his example, when a panic seized the
Spaniards. All four galleons slipped anchor, and tried to run aground,
'tumbling into the sea heaps of soldiers, so thick as if coals had been
poured out of a sack.' The St. Matthew and the St. Andrew, of ten to
twelve hundred tons burden, were captured before there was time for
their officers to burn them. In his wonderfully vivid letter, undated
and unaddressed, known as _A Relation of Cadiz Action_, he does not name
the captor. But a note in his own hand, in his copy of a French account,
_Les Lauriers de Nassau_, affirms, 'J'ay pris tous deux.' The St. Philip
and the St. Thomas were blown up by their captains. A multitude of the
men were drowned, or horribly scorched. 'There was so huge a fire, and
such tearing of the ordnance, as, if any man had a desire to see Hell
itself, it was there most lively figured.' The English, Ralegh says,
spared the lives of all after the victory; t