The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1898-04-01

are extremely foul, our stores failing,
our men fallen sick through badness
of drink. Our only comfort is that we
have God to lean upon, although we
walk in darkness and see no light"
And yet Blake's iron will kept the
ships for nearly two years on their
watch outside Cadiz, Nelson's long
watch off Toulon, or Collingwood's off
Cadiz in the year previous to Trafalgar
is not so wonderful as Blake's block
ade in the seventeenth century.
Then came that amazing dash at
Santa Cruz, which formed the last and
greatest Of Blake's exploits. Stayner
had intercepted one squadron of
treasure ships Immediately off Cadiz
With three ships he had attached six,
sunk some, and captured the rest
They were magnificent prize, no less
than 100000 being found in one ship
alone. But the largest squadron of
plate-ships lay at Santa Cruz, under
the great Peak of Teneriffe, kept by
the terror of Blake's name from at
tempting to reach the Spanish coast,
and upon these Blake made his famous
dash.
Santa Cruz is deep and narrow bay
guarded by heavy batteries, with a
difficult approach. Owing to the high
land a 1leet might easily be becalmed
under the heavy guns of the batteries
and so be destroyed: or if the wind
carried the ships into the bay, while
it prevailed there was no chance of
| escaping out of it. 1t was at Santa
Cruz that Nelson suffered his one
defeat and lost his arm. 1t is not the
least of Blake's titles to fame that he
| succeeded where Nelson\failed.
On the morning of April 20 Blake,
| with his squadron appeared off the bay.
A fleet of sixteen great galleons was
drawn across the bottom of the bay,
and Blake's swift soldierly glance told
him a moment that these ships would
act as a screen between his own squad
! ron and the great Spanish batteries on
| the shore. Blake led in to the attack
with the same lightning-like decision
Nelson showed at the Nile. The
| British fleet ran, with all sail spread,
| but in grim silence, past the batteries
| at the entrance to the bay. The fire
was loud and fierce, but the Spanish
| craftsmanship bad. His leading ships,
| under his favorite officer, Stayner,
| Blake launched at the galleons, but
| with the remainder Of the squadron
Blake himself rounded on the batteries,
covering Stayner from their fire. For
four hours the 700 guns and batteries
sent their tremendous waves of sound
up the slopes of Teneriffe. The
| Spaniards fought with great courage,
but Blake's fire, by it's speed and dead
liness, was overwhelming. At two
o'clock the fleet of galleons was in
| flames; by three o'clock nothing was
| left of them but half-a-dozen drifting
blackened wrecks. Then came sudden
change of wind, and Blake's ships ran
safely past the forts again to the open
sea. They had done their work. They
had not merely signed the King OF
| Spain's beard" they had emptied his
pockets and broken his strength. "The
! whole action" saws Clarendon, was
SO miraculous that all men who knew
| the place concluded that no sober nan,
with what courage soever endued,
would ever undertake it," Yet Blake
Gid this miraculous" thing, and the
daring that inspired the exploit is not
so wonderful as the genius which kept
this scurvy- wasted, barnacle-covered
| fleet in the heroic temper which made
it eager to accomplish whatever Blake
planned.
| Nothing is more pathetic than the
story of Blakes home -consing. On an
| august afternoon in 1851 the fiect--the
| battered flagship, the George, leading
was in sight of Plymouth. The green
hills of Devonshire, the spires and
roofs of the smoky city. tire masts of
the ships We're in full view. The piers
and shores were crowded with thou
sands waiting to welcome the greatest
sailor of his generation back to Eng
| land All the church-bells in Plymouth
were ringing. But at that moment
Blake lay dying in his cabin. His
captains, with those rare and reluctant
tears that brave men weep running
| down their weather. beating faces
were standing round his bed bidding
| farewell to their great chief Just as
the slow moving George dropped her
anchor Blake breathed his last. Never
| has England had a Drawer a less
| selfish, a more simply and loyal
servant. His corpse was roWed by his
sailors up the Thames, carried in state
to Westminster Abbey, and laid in
Henry wills ohapel-the nohlest bit OF
human dust in even that mausoleum OF
kings. 1t is one of the things to be
remembered against Charles H. that
after the Restoration, he had Blake's
bones dragged from their resting-place
| and cast into some nameless grave
| The English monarch, however, who
sold Dunkirl and filled his pockets
with French gold could hardly be
| expected to respect, or even to under
| stand, Blake's fame. Perhaps, indeed
| the fame of the noblest and bravest of
| English sailors was a secret sting to
| the conscience of the worst of English
kings.-Cornhill Magazine.