“Though our powder and shot was well nigh spent,” said the Lord-Admiral, “we put on a brag countenance and gave them chase, as though we had wanted nothing.”  And the brag countenance was successful, for that “one day’s service had much appalled the enemy” as Drake observed; and still the Spaniards fled with a freshening gale all through the Monday night.  “A thing greatly to be regarded,” said Fenner, of the Nonpariel, “is that that the Almighty had stricken them with a wonderful fear.  I have hardly, seen any of their companies succoured of the extremities which befell them after their fights, but they have been left, at utter ruin, while they bear as much sail as ever they possibly can.”

On Tuesday morning, 9th August, the English ships were off the isle of Walcheren, at a safe distance from the shore.  “The wind is hanging westerly,” said Richard Tomson, of the Margaret and Joan, “and we drive our enemies apace, much marvelling in what port they will direct themselves.  Those that are left alive are so weak and heartless that they could be well content to lose all charges and to be at home, both rich and poor.”

“In my, conscience,” said Sir William Winter, “I think the Duke would give his dukedom to be in Spain again.”

The English ships, one-hundred and four in number, being that morning half-a-league to windward, the Duke gave orders for the whole Armada to lay to and, await their approach.  But the English had no disposition to engage, for at, that moment the instantaneous destruction of their enemies seemed inevitable.  Ill-managed, panic-struck, staggering before their foes, the Spanish fleet was now close upon the fatal sands of Zeeland.  Already there were but six and a-half fathoms of water, rapidly shoaling under their keels, and the pilots told Medina that all were irretrievably lost, for the freshening north-welter was driving them steadily upon the banks.  The English, easily escaping the danger, hauled their wind, and paused to see the ruin of the proud Armada accomplished before their eyes.  Nothing but a change of wind at the instant could save them from perdition.  There was a breathless shudder of suspense, and then there came the change.  Just as the foremost ships were about to ground on the Ooster Zand, the wind suddenly veered to the south-west, and the Spanish ships quickly squaring their sails to the new impulse, stood out once more into the open sea.

All that day the galleons and galeasses, under all the canvas which they dared to spread, continued their flight before the south-westerly breeze, and still the Lord-Admiral, maintaining the brag countenance, followed, at an easy distance, the retreating foe.  At 4 p. m., Howard fired a signal gun, and ran up a flag of council.  Winter could not go, for he had been wounded in action, but Seymour and Drake, Hawkins, Frobisher, and the rest were present, and it was decided that Lord Henry should return, accompanied by Winter and the rest of the inner, squadron, to guard the Thames mouth against any attempt of the Duke of Parma, while the Lord Admiral and the rest of the navy should continue the pursuit of the Armada.