fall brought a last broadside on them,
which finished the work. They went down, and the water closed over them.
Rather death to the soldiers of the Cross than surrender to a heretic.

The deadly hail rained on. In some ships blood was seen streaming out of
the scupper-holes. Yet there was no yielding; all ranks showed equal
heroism. The priests went up and down in the midst of the carnage,
holding the crucifix before the eyes of the dying. At midday Howard came
up to claim a second share in a victory which was no longer doubtful.
Towards the afternoon the Spanish fire slackened. Their powder was gone,
and they could make no return to the cannonade which was still
overwhelming them. They admitted freely afterwards that if the attack
had been continued but two hours more they must all have struck or gone
ashore. But the English magazines were empty also; the last cartridge
was shot away, and the battle ended from mere inability to keep it up.
It had been fought on both sides with peculiar determination. In the
English there was the accumulated resentment of thirty years of menace
to their country and their creed, with the enemy in tangible shape at
last to be caught and grappled with; in the Spanish, the sense that if
their cause had not brought them the help they looked for from above,
the honour and faith of Castile should not suffer in their hands.

It was over. The English drew off, regretting that their thrifty
mistress had limited their means of fighting for her, and so obliged
them to leave their work half done. When the cannon ceased the wind
rose, the smoke rolled away, and in the level light of the sunset they
could see the results of the action.

A galleon in Recalde's squadron was sinking with all hands. The _San
Philip_ and the _San Matteo_ were drifting dismasted towards the Dutch
coast, where they were afterwards wrecked. Those which were left with
canvas still showing were crawling slowly after their comrades who had
not been engaged, the spars and rigging so cut up that they could
scarce bear their sails. The loss of life could only be conjectured, but
it had been obviously terrible. The nor'-wester was blowing up and was
pressing the wounded ships upon the shoals, from which, if it held, it
seemed impossible in their crippled state they would be able to work
off.

In this condition Drake left them for the night, not to rest, but from
any quarter to collect, if he could, more food and powder. The snak