"An 8-inch shell struck the gun-deck just under the after-barbette, passed through the side of the ship, and exploded, ranging aft. The damage done by this shell was very great. All the men in the locality must have been killed or badly wounded. The beams were torn and ripped. The fragments of the shell passed across the deck and cut through the starboard side. This shell also cut the fire main."

Shells from the lighter artillery of the American ships riddled the funnels, and cut up the deck-houses. One of these shells, bursting near the forward bridge, wounded Admiral Cervera slightly in the arm. He had come outside the conning-tower the better to watch the progress of his squadron. The armour belt had kept the water-line of the ship intact, and her barbettes and heavy guns were also protected efficiently by the local armour, but the enemy's shell fire had told on the unarmoured structure, inflicted heavy loss, and started two serious fires. All efforts to get these under failed. The blazing tropic heat had scorched the woodwork of the ship into tinder, the movement of the vessel produced a draught that made the burning bunkers and decks roaring masses of flame. The men were driven by the heat from battery and engine-room. The "Maria Teresa," with silent guns and masses of black smoke ascending to the sky, was headed for the land. At a quarter-past ten she drove ashore at Nimanima, 6½ miles west of Morro Castle. Some of the men swam ashore, others were taken off by the boats of the "Gloucester," which came up just in time to help in saving life. Commander Wainwright had to land a party to drive off a mob of Cuban guerillas, who came down to the shore, and were murdering the hapless Spaniards as they swam to the land. One of the "Gloucester's" boats took out of the water Admiral Cervera and his son, Lieutenant Cervera. They were brought on board the yacht, where Wainwright chivalrously greeted the unfortunate admiral with the words: "I congratulate you, sir, on having made as gallant a fight as was ever witnessed on the sea."

At half-past ten another of the Spanish cruisers was a helpless wreck only half a mile westward of the stranded and burning flagship. This was the "Almirante Oquendo," whose station had been last in the line. This drew upon her a converging fire from the guns of the pursuing battleships and cruisers. The destruction was terrible. Two guns of the secondary battery were disabled. A shell came through the roof of the forward turret, killed and wounded all the gun crew, and put the gun permanently out of action. Ventilators and deck-fittings were swept away, the funnels cut up, and the unarmoured part of the sides repeatedly pierced by shells that started several fires amidships. It was these that made further effort to keep up the fight hopeless. After her captain, Juan Lazaga, had been killed by a bursting shell, the "Oquendo," now on fire in a dozen places, was driven ashore to save life. She blew up on the beach, the explosion of her magazines nearly cutting the wreck in two.

Of the Spanish squadron only the "Cristobal Colon" and the "Vizcaya" still survived. The "Colon," best and newest of the cruisers, was making good speed, and was furthest ahead. The "Vizcaya" lagged behind her, hard pressed by several American ships, led by the "Iowa." The "Vizcaya" had suffered severely from the fire of the pursuit. Her coal-bunkers were ablaze on one side, and there was another fire making steady progress in the gun-deck. Schley, in the "Brooklyn," urging his engines to the utmost, rushed past the "Iowa," and attempted to head off the "Vizcaya." Her gallant captain, Antonio Eulate, realized that the "Brooklyn" was the swiftest ship in the pursuit, and that her destruction would materially increase the chance of the "Colon" escaping. So he made a last effort to ram or torpedo the "Brooklyn" before his own ship succumbed. He headed for Schley with a torpedo ready in his bow over-water tube. A shell from the "Brooklyn's" battery struck it fair, exploded the torpedo in the tube, and blew up and set fire to the forepart of the "Vizcaya." Eulate then headed his ship for the land, and she struck the shore under the cliffs at Asseradores, fifteen miles west of Morro, at a quarter-past eleven. The "Brooklyn," the "Iowa," and the "Oregon" were pouring their fire into her as she ran aground. Another explosion blew up part of her burning decks, and Eulate hauled down his flag. The Americans cheered as they saw the flag come down amid the clouds of smoke, but Captain Robley Evans, of the "Iowa," called out from the bridge to stop the cheers of his men. "Don't cheer, boys. Those poor fellows are dying," he said. Evans, with the "Iowa," stood by the burning ship to rescue the survivors.

The "Colon" alone remained. She had a lead of a good six miles, and many thought she would escape. The "Brooklyn" led the pursuit, followed closely by the battleships "Oregon" and "Texas," and the small cruiser "Vixen," with Sampson's flagship, the "New York," far astern, too far off to have any real share in the action. On her trials the "Colon" had done 23 knots. If she could have done anything like this in the rush out of Santiago, she would have simply walked away from the Americans, but she never did more than fourteen. For some time, even at this reduced speed, she was so far ahead that there was no firing. It was not until ten minutes past one that the "Brooklyn" and "Oregon" at last got within range and opened fire with their forward heavy guns. The "Colon," with her empty barbettes, had nothing with which to reply at the long range. In the earlier stage of the fight she had been hit only by an 8-inch shell, which did no material damage. As the pursuers gained on her she opened with her secondary battery. Even now she received no serious injury, and she was never set on fire. But her captain, Moreu, realized that lack of speed had put him at the mercy of the enemy. As they closed in upon him and opened fire with their heaviest guns, he turned his ship into the creek surrounded by towering heights amid which the little Tarquino River runs into the sea, forty-eight miles west of Morro Castle. He hauled down his flag as he entered the creek. Without his orders the engineers opened the Kingston valves in the engine-room, and when the Americans boarded the "Colon" she was rapidly sinking. She went down by the stern under the cliffs on the east side of the inlet, and lay with her bow above water and her after decks awash. It was twenty minutes past one when she surrendered.

The men of the "Iowa" and "Gloucester" had meanwhile rescued many of the survivors of the "Vizcaya," not without serious risk to themselves, for there were numerous explosions, and the decks were red-hot in places. Some of the Spaniards swam ashore, made their way through the bush to Santiago, and joined the garrison. Captain Eulate was brought on board the "Iowa," and received by a guard of marines, who presented arms as he stepped from the gangway. He offered his sword to Robley Evans, but the American captain refused to take it. "You have surrendered," he said, "to four ships, each heavier than your own. You did not surrender to the 'Iowa' only, so her captain cannot take your sword."

Never in any naval action was there such complete destruction of a fleet. Of the six ships that steamed out of Santiago that summer morning, the "Furor" was sunk in deep water off the entrance; the "Pluton" was ashore under the Socapa cliff. At various points along the coast columns of black smoke rising a thousand feet into the sunlit sky showed where the burning wrecks of the "Maria Teresa," the "Oquendo," and the "Vizcaya" lay, and nearly fifty miles away the "Colon" was sunk at the mouth of the Tarquino River.

And never was success obtained with such a trifling loss to the victors. The Spanish gunnery had been wretchedly bad. The only ships hit were the "Brooklyn" and the "Iowa," and neither received any serious damage. The only losses by the enemy's fire were on board the "Brooklyn," where a signalman was killed and two seamen wounded. Nine men were more or less seriously injured by the concussion of their own guns.

It must be confessed that the gunnery of the Americans was not of a high order. Some 6500 shells were expended during the action. The Spanish wrecks were carefully examined, and all hits counted. Fires and explosions perhaps obliterated the traces of some of them, but so far as could be ascertained, the hits on the hulls and the upper works were comparatively few. And of hits by the heavy 13-inch and 12-inch guns, only two could be traced anywhere.

The Spanish squadron had 2300 officers and men on board when it left Santiago. Of these 1600 were prisoners after the action. It was estimated that in the fight 350 were killed and 150 wounded. This leaves some 200 to be accounted for. Nearly 150 rejoined the garrison of Santiago after swimming ashore. This leaves only fifty missing. They were probably drowned or killed by the Cuban guerillas. The fact that three of the Spanish cruisers had been rendered helpless by fires lighted on board by the enemy's shells accentuated the lesson already learned from the battle of the Yalu as to the necessity of eliminating inflammable material in the construction and fittings of warships. The damage done to the "Vizcaya" by the explosion of one of her own torpedoes in her bow-tube proved the reality of a danger to which naval critics had already called attention. Henceforth the torpedo tubes of cruisers and battleships were all made to open below the water-line.