mitting their dead to
the sea. Now they seemed advancing directly upon inevitable destruction.
As the wind stood there was still room for them to wear and thus escape
the banks, but they would then have to face the enemy, who seemed only
refraining from attacking them because while they continued on their
present course the winds and waves would finish the work without help
from man. Recalde, De Leyva, Oquendo, and other officers were sent for
to the _San Martin_ to consult. Oquendo came last. 'Ah, Senor Oquendo,'
said the Duke as the heroic Biscayan stepped on board, 'que haremos?'
(what shall we do?) 'Let your Excellency bid load the guns again,' was
Oquendo's gallant answer. It could not be. De Leyva himself said that
the men would not fight the English again. Florez advised surrender. The
Duke wavered. It was said that a boat was actually lowered to go off to
Howard and make terms, and that Oquendo swore that if the boat left the
_San Martin_ on such an errand he would fling Florez into the sea.
Oquendo's advice would have, perhaps, been the safest if the Duke could
have taken it. There were still seventy ships in the Armada little hurt.
The English were 'bragging,' as Drake said, and in no condition
themselves for another serious engagement. But the temper of the entire
fleet made a courageous course impossible. There was but one Oquendo.
Discipline was gone. The soldiers in their desperation had taken the
command out of the hands of the seamen. Officers and men alike
abandoned hope, and, with no human prospect of salvation left to them,
they flung themselves on their knees upon the decks and prayed the
Almighty to have pity on them. But two weeks were gone since they had
knelt on those same decks on the first sight of the English shore to
thank Him for having brought them so far on an enterprise so glorious.
Two weeks; and what weeks! Wrecked, torn by cannon shot, ten thousand of
them dead or dying--for this was the estimated loss by battle--the
survivors could now but pray to be delivered from a miserable death by
the elements. In cyclones the wind often changes suddenly back from
north-west to west, from west to south. At that moment, as if in answer
to their petition, one of these sudden shifts of wind saved them from
the immediate peril. The gale backed round to S.S.W., and ceased to
press them on the shoals. They could ease their sheets, draw off into
open water, and steer a course up the middle of the North Se