On Saturday, 30th July, the wind was very light at southwest, with a mist
and drizzling rain, but by three in the afternoon the two fleets could
descry and count each other through the haze.

By nine o'clock, 31st July, about two miles from Looe, on the Cornish
coast, the fleets had their first meeting. There were 136 sail of the
Spaniards, of which ninety were large ships, and sixty-seven of the
English. It was a solemn moment. The long-expected Armada presented a
pompous, almost a theatrical appearance. The ships seemed arranged for a
pageant, in honour of a victory already won. Disposed in form of a
crescent, the horns of which were seven miles asunder, those gilded,
towered, floating castles, with their gaudy standards and their martial
music, moved slowly along the channel, with an air of indolent pomp.
Their captain-general, the golden Duke, stood in his private shot-proof
fortress, on the--deck of his great galleon the Saint Martin, surrounded
by generals of infantry, and colonels of cavalry, who knew as little as
he did himself of naval matters. The English vessels, on the other
hand--with a few exceptions, light, swift, and easily handled--could sail
round and round those unwieldy galleons, hulks, and galleys rowed by
fettered slave-gangs. The superior seamanship of free Englishmen,
commanded by such experienced captains as Drake, Frobisher, and Hawkins--
from infancy at home on blue water--was manifest in the very, first
encounter. They obtained the weather-gage at once, and cannonaded the
enemy at intervals with considerable effect, easily escaping at will out
of range of the sluggish Armada, which was incapable of bearing sail in
pursuit, although provided with an armament which could sink all its
enemies at close quarters. "We had some small fight with them that
Sunday afternoon," said Hawkins.

Medina Sidonia hoisted the royal standard at the fore, and the whole