80; of surgeons and
surgeons' assistants eighty-five only for the whole fleet.

In the middle of May he sent down his last orders. The Duke was not to
seek a battle. If he fell in with Drake he was to take no notice of him,
but thank God, as Dogberry said to the watchman, that he was rid of a
knave. He was to go straight to the North Foreland, there anchor and
communicate with Parma. The experienced admirals who had learnt their
trade under Santa Cruz--Martinez de Recalde, Pedro de Valdez, Miguel de
Oquendo--strongly urged the securing Plymouth or the Isle of Wight on
their way up Channel. This had evidently been Santa Cruz's own design,
and the only rational one to have followed. Philip did not see it. He
did not believe it would prove necessary; but as to this and as to
fighting he left them, as he knew he must do, a certain discretion.

The Duke then, flying the sacred banner on the _San Martin_, dropped
down the Tagus on the 14th of May, followed by the whole fleet. The
_San Martin_ had been double-timbered with oak, to keep the shot out. He
liked his business no better. In vain he repeated to himself that it was
God's cause. God would see they came to no harm. He was no sooner in the
open sea than he found no cause, however holy, saved men from the
consequences of their own blunders. They were late out, and met the
north trade wind, as Santa Cruz had foretold.

They drifted to leeward day by day till they had dropped down to Cape
St. Vincent. Infinite pains had been taken with the spiritual state of
everyone on board. The carelessness or roguery of contractors and
purveyors had not been thought of. The water had been taken in three
months before. It was found foul and stinking. The salt beef, the salt
pork, and fish were putrid, the bread full of maggots and cockroaches.
Cask was opened after cask. It was the same story everywhere. They had
to be all thrown overboard. In the whole fleet there was not a sound
morsel of food but biscuit and dried fruit. The men went down in
hundreds with dysentery. The Duke bewailed his fate as innocently as
Sancho Panza. He hoped God would help. He had wished no harm to
anybody. He had left his home and his family to please the King, and he
trusted the King would remember it. He wrote piteously for fresh stores,
if the King would not have them all perish. The admirals said they could
go no further without fresh water. All was dismay and confusion. The
wind at last fell round south