Blake did not hesitate. The wind was blowing into the harbour on the 20th of April, 1657; and trusting to the omnipotent instincts of courage, he dashed into the harbour at eight o'clock in the morning. Stayner, who had so lately defeated the Spanish Plate fleet, and destroyed in it the viceroy of Peru, now led the way in a frigate, and Blake followed with the larger ships. His fleet altogether amounted to twenty-five sail. It was received with a hurricane of fire from the batteries on both sides the harbour and the fleet in front; but discharging his artillery right and left, he advanced, silencing the forts, and soon driving the seamen from the front line of galleons into the merchant ships. For four hours the terrible encounter continued, the British exposed to a deadly hail of ball from the shore as well as the ships, but still pressing on till the Spanish ships were all in flames, and reduced to ashes, the troops in them having escaped to land. The question, then, was how to escape out of the harbour, and from the fury of the exasperated Spaniards on the land around. But Blake drew his ships out of reach of the forts and, as if Providence had wrought in his favour--as Blake firmly believed He did--the wind about sunset veered suddenly round, and the fleet sailed securely out to sea.

The fame of this unparalleled exploit rang throughout Europe, and raised the reputation of England for naval prowess to the greatest pitch. Unhappily, death was fast claiming the undaunted admiral. He was suffering at the moment that he won this brilliant triumph, and, sailing homewards, he expired (August 17, 1657) on board his ship, the _St. George_, just as it entered the harbour of Plymouth. Besides the high encomium of Clarendon, he received that of a writer of his own party and time, in the narrative of the "Perfect Politician"--"He was a man most wholly devoted to his country's service, resolute in his undertakings, and most faithful in his performances of them. With him valour seldom missed its reward, nor cowardice its punishment. When news was brought him of a metamorphosis in the State at home, he would then encourage the seamen to be most vigilant abroad; for, said he, it was not our duty to mind State affairs, but to keep foreigners from fooling us. In all his expeditions the wind seldom deceived him, but mostly in the end stood his friend, especially in his last undertaking in the Canary Islands. To the last he lived a single life, never being espoused to any but his country's quarrels. As he lived bravely, he died gloriously, and was buried in Henry VII.'s Chapel, yet enjoying at this time no other monument but what is raised by his valour, which time itself can hardly deface."

Cassell's History of England. Vol III — Part 198