On the evening of April 30th, 1669, Morgan spread his sails, and ran down the lake until he came in sight of the foe. Darkness was then coming on and he cast anchor. The morning of the first of May dawned cloudless, over those vast solitudes of land and water, where a few adventurers from a distance of nearly ten thousand miles had met to crimson the waves with their blood, and to cause forest and lake and mountain to resound with the thunders of their demoniac fightings. With the first gleam of light in the east, Morgan’s fleet weighed its anchors and spread its sails. A fresh breeze from the south swelled their canvas. The fire-ship, with its wooden men and wooden guns, and which was prepared in an instant to flame into a volcano, bore down upon the Magdalen. Promptly the crew cleared the decks for action. Little did they dream of the foe whose resistless fury they were to encounter. The fire-ship ran with a crash against the Spanish frigate. The boat of escape was ready with the men at the oars. The torch was applied at several places to make certainty doubly certain. The boat pushed off with rapid strokes, and scarcely one single moment elapsed before both ships were enveloped in densest smoke and flashing, consuming flame. In an instant it was seen by all that the great achievement was accomplished; that the majestic man-of-war, in all its pride and strength, was doomed to immediate destruction. No escape was possible. No resistance could be of the slightest avail. Not a boat could be launched. There was no time for thought even. Many of the sailors were instantly burned to a crisp as the forked flames encircled among them, wrapping them in its cruel embrace. All, who could, plunged into the sea. Many were drowned. A few strong swimmers reached the other vessels and were saved. Among these was the Admiral Espinosa. The pirates gazed upon the awful spectacle with shouts of exultation. They had sworn to give no quarter. The drowning wretches presented but attractive targets for their sharpshooters. Boats put off from several of their nearer vessels to knock them in the head. The second Spanish ship in size, which was called the St. Louis, mounted, as we have said, thirty-eight guns in all. The crew consisted of two hundred sailors. Seeing the utter destruction of the flagship, and that they were exposed to be attacked by the whole force of the pirates, they ran back beneath the guns of the fort. To prevent the ship from falling into the hands of the pirates they ran her ashore, scuttled her, and took refuge behind the intrenchments.