All the ships got safely away except the Revenge. Ninety of her men were lying sick ashore, and her captain, Sir Richard Grenville, would not move till they were aboard. By this time the wind was unfavourable, and he had to choose between fleeing and facing the whole armada. He utterly refused to flee, and said he would pass through the Spaniards in spite of them.

Several of the foremost vessels gave way, but at last, about three in the afternoon, the great San Philip bore down upon him, and brought him to a standstill by keeping the wind away from his sails. Four galleons then came on, and the battle began. The San Philip soon had enough of the combat and moved out of danger; but whenever one vessel went away, another came to take its place.

And the sun went down, and the stars came out far over the

summer sea,

But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and fifty-three. Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built galleons

came,

Ship after ship the whole night long, drew back with her dead and her shame. *

At eleven o'clock Grenville was wounded, but still he had no thought of yielding. By day break the Revenge had hardly any powder left; all her pikes were broken; forty of her hundred fighting men were slain, while most of the others were hurt; her masts were beaten overboard, and her tackle cut asunder, so that she lay like a log upon the water.

When Sir Richard found he could hold out no longer he commanded the master-gunner to blow up the ship, so that she and all aboard should perish rather than

* Tennyson.

fall into the hands of the Spaniards; but some of the sailors thought it would be better to live, that they might fight again for queen and country, than thus to die needlessly.

The Spanish admiral agreed that if the English gave themselves up they should be sent home as soon as a chance occurred, and in the meantime be honourably

treated.

Sir Richard, while not consenting to these terms himself, allowed his men to accept them. When his crew had been taken on board the admiral's ship, a boat was sent for him. He said they might do with his body what they would, for he esteemed it not. Notwithstanding all the care that was taken of him, he did not live long.

When he felt his last hour draw near, he cried,

"Here die I, Richard Grenville, with a joyful and quiet mind; for that I have ended my life as a true soldier ought to do that hath fought for his country, queen, religion, and honour; whereby my soul most joyful departeth out of this body, and shall always leave behind it an everlasting fame of a valiant and true soldier that hath done his duty, as he was bound to do."

The Revenge was the only one of Elizabeth's ships which, through all the long years of fighting, the Spaniards took, and even her they never brought to port. A few days after the battle a great storm arose, and she went down off the island of Tercera.

Five years later a fleet under Sir John Hawkins and Sir Francis Drake set out to attack Philip's West Indian possessions. Misfortune after misfortune befel the expedition. At last Hawkins died, and a great sickness broke out among the crew. Drake himself

was one of the victims of the disease.

The waves became his winding-sheet,

The waters were his tomb,
But for his fame the ocean sea

Was not sufficient room.*

Drake died early in 1596. Later in the same year an attack was made upon Spain itself. A force, con sisting of six thousand seamen under Lord Howard of Effingham, and of seven thousand soldiers under the Earl of Essex, suddenly appeared before Cadiz. Seventy or eighty large war-ships lay in the roads. The English dashed upon them regardless of the forts by which the harbour was defended. The Spaniards took fright, set their vessels on fire, and hurried ashore, "as thick as if coals had been poured out of a sack."

* Prince.

2

The assailants followed, and easily captured the town. The loss to Philip was enormous, and the war was now practically over.

1 Illustrate, to make clear, to show by an example. assailant, one who attacks.

IT has already been said that there were two classes of men who objected to the religious settlement made at the beginning of Elizabeth's reign. One class objected that the departure from the Church of Rome was too great, the other that it was not great enough. Those who made up this second class came afterwards to be called Puritans, because they strove after what they considered to be pure beliefs.

Inwardly the Puritans were filled with a sense of the immediate presence of God; outwardly they lived lives of the severest simplicity. Their food and clothing were of the plainest, they denied themselves every form of amusement, they thought human learning dangerous, as likely to create vanity. Their chief fault was narrow-mindedness. They could see no good in their opponents, and when they became a powerful party they tried to force their own opinions upon every one. They condemned many customs which are harmless enough in themselves; they saw popery, for instance, in using a ring in the marriage ceremony, and in keeping holidays. An enemy described them as

A sect whose chief 3 distinction lies

Yet England owes to them much of her freedom, much of her purity of life. It is true that they trampled

down king, church, and 6 aristocracy, but they made their country feared throughout Europe; it is true that