three
other war-galleots, was keeping watch in that neighbourhood. It was dead
calm as the night fell, and the galleys of Spinola, which had crept close
up to the Dover cliffs, were endeavouring to row their way across in the
darkness towards the Flemish coast, in the hope of putting unobserved
into the Gut of Sluys. All went well with Spinola till the moon rose;
but, with the moon, sprang up a steady breeze, so that the galleys lost
all their advantage. Nearly off Gravelines another States' ship, the
Mackerel, came in sight, which forthwith attacked the St: Philip, pouring
a broadside into her by which fifty men were killed. Drawing off from
this assailant, the galley found herself close to the Dutch admiral in
the Half-moon, who, with all sail set, bore straight down upon her,
struck her amidships with a mighty crash, carrying off her mainmast and
her poop, and then, extricating himself with difficulty from the wreck,
sent a tremendous volley of cannon-shot and lesser missiles straight into
the waist where sat the chain-gang. A howl of pain and terror rang
through the air, while oars and benches, arms, legs, and mutilated
bodies, chained inexorably together, floated on the moonlit waves. An
instant later, and another galleot bore down to complete the work,
striking with her iron prow the doomed St. Philip so straightly and
surely that she went down like a stone, carrying with her galley slaves,
sailors, and soldiers, besides all the treasure brought by Spinola for
the use of his fleet.

The Morning Star was the next galley attacked, Captain Sael, in a stout
galleot, driving at her under full sail, with the same accuracy and
solidity of shock as had been displayed in the encounter with the St.
Philip and with the same result. The miserable, top-heavy monster galley
was struck between mainmast and stern, with a blow which carried away the
assailant's own bowsprit and fore-bulwarks, but which--completely
demolished the stem of the galley, and crushed out of existence the
greater portion of the live machinery sitting chained and rowing on the
benches. And again, as the first enemy hauled off from its victim,
Admiral pant came up once more in the Half-moon, steered straight at the
floundering galley, and sent her with one crash to the bottom. It was not
very scientific practice perhaps. It was but simple butting, plain
sailing, good steering, and the firing of cannon at short pistol-shot.
But after all, the work of those u