ing of six royal galleons and sixteen other large ships, had taken refuge in one of the Canary Islands. He at once resolved to go in quest of it. Calling in all his cruisers, he suddenly set sail, on the 13th of April, with a fleet of twenty-five ships and frigates, for what proved to be the scene of his last triumph. Seven days later he was off the island of Teneriffe, and sighted the famous harbour of Santa Cruz. Notwithstanding the celerity of his movements, Don Diego Diagues, the governor of Santa Cruz, had been apprised of his design, and had skilfully laboured to strengthen and enlarge the already formidable defences of the harbour. Every point of vantage was armed with heavy ordnance. The inner shore of the bay was protected by six powerful batteries. Cannon of the largest calibre were mounted on the castle which protected the harbour-mouth, and the galleons so stationed that their broadsides also commanded it. But these were difficulties which could not daunt a man of Blake's intrepid genius and phlegmatic courage. He rose from his sickbed to reconnoitre the position; called a council of war ; and announced his intention to push straight into the fire-girdled harbour, and destroy the galleons at their moorings. Between six and seven o'clock in the morning, after prayers had been solemnized and the crews had breakfasted, the attack was delivered. Stayner's division bore away steadily for the harbour-mouth, to force a passage and burn the galleons. Blake directed his own. ships against the land defences. Regardless of the terrible fire that crashed and thundered around him, Stayner-hero that he was, and no unworthy second to Robert Blake-drove straight into the inner basin, and HIS CROWNING VICTORY. 173 fiercely cannonaded the galleons, while his admiral, following closely in his wake, drew off the attention of the batteries, and made them the mark of his deadly guns. It was a fearful fight, and both sides fought with heroic ardour; but by two o'clock the Spaniards were beatentwo ships were sunk—and every vessel in the harbour, galleon or merchantman, was in flames. The destruction was complete; not a ship escaped the catastrophe of that memorable day. By a singular providence, the wind, which all day had blown inland, now veered to the south-west, enabling Blake to bring his victorious fleet out of the bay without a single mishap. His ships had suffered severely in their spars and rigging, but his loss, in the fierce encounter, of men killed, had been only 50, of wounded 150. On the other hand, the calamity to Spain was almost irreparable. Ships, treasure, stores, guns, ammunitionall had been consumed. "The whole action," writes the Royalist historian, "was so miraculous, that all men who knew the place concluded that no sober man, with what courage soever endued, would ever undertake it; whilst the Spaniards comforted themselves with the belief that they were devils and not men who had destroyed them in such a manner." Even scurrilous Heath, in his Flagellum, is Englishman enough to recognize the wonderful character of Blake's final victory. "Of all the desperate attempts," he exclaims, "that were ever made in the world against an enemy by sea, this of the noble Blake's is not inferior to any." When the news of the success reached England, the Lord-Protector addressed to his illustrious admiral the following letter: TO GENERAL BLAKE, AT SEA. "Whitehall, 10th June 1657. "SIR,—I have received yours [of the 20th of April last], and thereby the account of the good success it hath pleased God to give you at the Canaries, in your attempt upon the king of Spain's ships in the bay of Santa Cruz. "The mercy therein, to us and this Commonwealth, is very signal; both in the loss the enemy hath received, and also in the preservation of our ships and men; which, indeed, was very wonderful, and according to the goodness and loving-kindness of the Lord, wherewith this people hath been followed in all these late revolutions, and doth call on our part, that we should fear before him, and still hope in his mercy. "We cannot but take notice, also, how eminently it hath pleased God to make use of you in this service; assisting you with wisdom in the conduct, and courage in the execution-and have sent you a small jewel [of the value of £500], as a testimony of our own and the Parliament's good acceptance of your carriage in this action. We are also informed that the officers of the fleet, and the seamen, carried themselves with much honesty and courage, and we are considering of a way to show our acceptance thereof. In the meantime, we desire you to return our hearty thanks and acknowledgments to them. "Thus, beseeching the Lord to continue his presence with you, I remain, your very affectionate friend, “OLIVER, P.” * Our narrative of this memorable achievement may fitly terminate with the graphic summary afforded by the * Thurloe, "State Papers," vi. 342. HOMEWARD BOUND. 175 eloquent pen of Thomas Carlyle:-" Blake arrives there in time this Monday morning early (April 20); finds the fleet fast moored in Santa Cruz Bay; rich silver-ships, strong war ships, sixteen as we count them; stronger almost than himself, and moored here under defences unassailable apparently by any mortal. Santa Cruz Bay is shaped as a horse-shoe: at the entrance are castles, in the inner circuit are other castles, eight of them in all, bristling with great guns; war-ships moored at the entrance, war-frigates moored all round the beach, and men and gunners at command: one great magazine of sleeping thunder and destruction: to appearance, if you wish for sure suicide to run into, this must be it. Blake, taking measure of the business, runs into it, defying its loud thunder-much out-thunders it-mere whirlwinds of fire and iron hail, the Old Peak never heard the like; silences the castles; sinks or burns every sail in the harbour; annihilates the Spanish fleet; and then, the wind veering round in his favour, sails out again, leaving Santa Cruz Bay much astonished at him!"* CHAPTER VI.-HOMEWARD BOUND. His health AT Santa Cruz closed Blake's warrior-career. was rapidly failing, and the sun was setting in a dying glory. He was fifty-nine years old, and his frame and mind for twelve or thirteen years had borne no ordinary strain. "Want of rest," says Mr. Dixon, "want of fresh food and wholesome wine, strain of heart and of intellect, the fester of an unhealed wound, the wrack and waste of * Carlyle, "Oliver Cromwell's Letters and Speeches." a cruise unexampled in activity and in success, had done their work even on his vigorous constitution. gained his victory, but he had sacrificed his life. only to come home and die." He had After a rapid visit to Sallee, whose Mauresque searovers he compelled to release their Christian captives and conclude a treaty of peace with England-and this without firing a single shot or shedding one drop of blood-Blake gladly obeyed the instructions he had received from Cromwell, and turned his prow homeward. He knew that he was dying, and with the instinct so strong in humanity, desired to die in his native land. He longed to see its grassy lanes, its shadowy combes, its rippling brooks again, before he passed away and was at peace. The bird to his nest and the lion to his lair, when death is at hand! Hoisting his pennon on board the St. George, Blake set sail from Cadiz, and made all haste to reach his beloved England. A marked change for the worse was apparent when he arrived off Lisbon, and as his ship tossed and rolled in the seething waters of the Bay of Biscay, his disease grew upon him daily, until the most sanguine could no longer dare to hope. As his physical strength declined, so did his desire to gaze once more upon the gleaming cliffs and verdurous hills of the Old Land increase in impatient fervency. "Are they yet in sight?" he constantly inquired of the sorrowful faces gathered around his bed. He was not permitted to realize his hope. The shadows of death had folded closely round him when the St. George, with drooping flag and silent decks, stood into Plymouth Sound; and his ears were deaf to the loud welcome shouted by ten thousand lusty |