ble cannonade from which the Armada had
already suffered so frightfully. It seemed that morning as if the
English were using guns of even heavier metal than on either of the
preceding days. The armament had not been changed. The growth was in
their own frightened imagination. The Duke had other causes for
uneasiness. His own magazines were also giving out under the unexpected
demands upon them. One battle was the utmost which he had looked for. He
had fought three, and the end was no nearer than before. With resolution
he might still have made his way into St. Helen's roads, for the English
were evidently afraid to close with him. But when St. Dominic, too,
failed him he lost his head. He lost his heart, and losing heart he lost
all. In the Solent he would have been comparatively safe, and he could
easily have taken the Isle of Wight; but his one thought now was to
find safety under Parma's gaberdine and make for Calais or Dunkirk. He
supposed Parma to have already embarked, on hearing of his coming, with
a second armed fleet, and in condition for immediate action. He sent on
another pinnace, pressing for help, pressing for ammunition, and
fly-boats to protect the galleons; and Parma was himself looking to be
supplied from the Armada, with no second fleet at all, only a flotilla
of river barges which would need a week's work to be prepared for the
crossing.

Philip had provided a splendid fleet, a splendid army, and the finest
sailors in the world except the English. He had failed to realise that
the grandest preparations are useless with a fool to command. The poor
Duke was less to blame than his master. An office had been thrust upon
him for which he knew that he had not a single qualification. His one
anxiety was to find Parma, lay the weight on Parma's shoulders, and so
have done with it.

On Friday he was left alone to make his way up Channel towards the
French shore. The English still followed, but he counted that in Calais
roads he would be in French waters, where they would not dare to meddle
with him. They would then, he thought, go home and annoy him no further.
As he dropped anchor in the dusk outside Calais on Saturday evening he
saw, to his disgust, that the _endemoniada gente_--the infernal
devils--as he called them, had brought up at the same moment with
himself, half a league astern of him. His one trust was in the Prince of
Parma, and Parma at any rate was now within touch.

LECTURE IX

DEFEA