enemy's power. "God make us all thankful again and again," he observed,
"that we have, although it be little, made a beginning upon the coast of
Spain." And modestly as he spoke of what he had accomplished, so with
quiet self-reliance did he allude to the probable consequences. It was
certain, he intimated, that the enemy would soon seek revenge with all
his strength, and "with all the devices and traps he could devise." This
was a matter which could not be doubted. "But," said Sir Francis, "I
thank them much that they have staid so long, and when they come they
shall be but the sons of mortal men."

Perhaps the most precious result of the expedition, was the lesson which
the Englishmen had thus learned in handling the great galleys of Spain.
It might soon stand them in stead. The little war-vessels which had come
from Plymouth, had sailed round and round these vast unwieldy hulks, and
had fairly driven them off the field, with very slight damage to
themselves. Sir Francis had already taught the mariners of England,
even if he had done nothing else by this famous Cadiz expedition,
that an armada, of Spain might not be so invincible as men imagined.

Yet when the conqueror returned from his great foray, he received no
laurels. His sovereign met him, not with smiles, but with frowns and
cold rebukes. He had done his duty, and helped to save her endangered
throne, but Elizabeth was now the dear friend of Alexander Farnese, and
in amicable correspondence with his royal master. This "little"
beginning on the coast of Spain might not seem to his Catholic Majesty
a matter to be thankful for, nor be likely to further a pacification,
and so Elizabeth hastened to disavow her Plymouth captain.'

["True it is, and I avow it on my faith, her Majesty did send a ship
expressly before he went to Cadiz with a message by letters charging