lasted all day. It was neither spirited nor sanguinary. It ought to have
been within the power of the Spaniard to crush his diminutive adversary.
It might have seemed a sufficient triumph for Matelieff to manoeuvre
himself out of harm's way. No vessel on either side was boarded, not one
surrendered, but two on each side were set on fire and destroyed. Eight
of the Dutchmen were killed--not a very sanguinary result after a day's
encounter with so imposing an armada. De Castro's losses were much
greater, but still the battle was an insignificant one, and neither fleet
gained a victory. Night put an end to the cannonading, and the Spaniards
withdrew to Malacca, while Matelieff bore away to Johore. The siege of
Malacca was relieved, and the Netherlanders now occupied themselves with
the defence of the feeble sovereign at the other point of the peninsula.

Matelieff lay at Johore a month, repairing damages and laying in
supplies. While still at the place, he received information that a large
part of the Spanish armada had sailed from Malacca. Several of his own
crew, who had lost their shares in the adventure by the burning of the
ships to which they belonged in the action of 17th August, were reluctant
and almost mutinous when their admiral now proposed to them a sudden
assault on the portion of the Spanish fleet still remaining within reach.
They had not come forth for barren glory, many protested, but in search
of fortune; they were not elated by the meagre result of the expedition.
Matelieff succeeded, however, at last in inspiring all the men of his
command with an enthusiasm superior to sordid appeals, and made a few
malcontents. On the 21st September, he sailed to Malacca, and late in the
afternoon again attacked the Spaniards. Their fleet consisted of seven
great galleons and three galleys lying in a circle before the town. The
outermost ship, called the St. Nicholas, was boarded by men from three of
the Dutch galleots with sudden and irresistible fury. There was a brief
but most terrible action, the Netherlanders seeming endowed with
superhuman vigour. So great was the panic that there was hardly an effort
at defence, and within less than an hour nearly every Spaniard on board
the St. Nicholas had been put to the sword. The rest of the armada
engaged the Dutch fleet with spirit, but one of the great galleons was
soon set on fire and burned to the water's edge. Another, dismasted and
crippled, struck her flag, and all