It had been just one month, to a day, since Hobson sunk the Merrimac at the harbor's mouth to keep Cervera in, and for nearly one month and a half the fleets of Schley and Sampson had lain, like watch-dogs before the gate, without for one moment relaxing their vigilance. The quiet of Sunday morning brooded over the scene. Even the winds seemed resting from their labors and the sea lay smooth as glass. For two days before, July 1st and 2d, the fleets had bombarded the forts of Santiago for the fourth time, and all the ships, except the Oregon, had steam down so low as to allow them a speed of only five knots an hour. At half-past nine o'clock the bugler sounded the call to quarters, and the Jackies appeared on deck rigged in their cleanest clothes for their regular Sunday inspection. On board the Texas the devout Captain Philip had sounded the trumpet-call to religious services. In an instant a line of smoke was seen coming out of the harbor by the watch on the Iowa, and from that vessel's yard a signal was run up—"The enemy is escaping to the westward." Simultaneously, from her bridge a six-pounder boomed on the still air to draw the attention of the other ships to her fluttering signal. On every vessel white masses were seen scrambling forward. Jackies and firemen tumbled over one another rushing to their stations. Officers jumped into the turrets through manholes, dressed in their best uniforms, and captains rushed to their conning towers. There was no time to waste—scarcely enough to get the battle-hatches screwed on tight. Jingle, jingle, went the signal-bells in the engine-rooms, and "Steam! Steam!" the captains cried through the tubes. Far below decks, in 125 to 150 degrees of heat, naked men shoveled in the black coal and forced drafts were put on.
One minute after the Iowa fired her signal-gun she was moving toward the harbor. From under the Castle of Morro came Admiral Cervera's flagship, the Infanta Maria Teresa, followed by her sister armored cruisers, Almirante Oquendo and Vizcaya—so much alike that they could not be distinguished at any distance. There was also the splendid Cristobal Colon, and after them all the two fine torpedo-boat destroyers, Pluton and Furor. The Teresa opened fire as she sighted the American vessels, as did all of her companions, and the forts from the heights belched forth at the same time. Countless geysers around our slowly approaching battleships showed where the Spanish shells exploded in the water. The Americans replied. The battle was on, but at a long range of two or three miles, so that the secondary batteries could not be called into use; but thirteen-inch shells from the Oregon and Indiana and the twelve-inch shells from the Texas and Iowa were churning up the water around the enemy. At this juncture it seemed impossible for the Americans to head off the Spanish cruisers from passing the western point, for they had come out of the harbor at a speed of thirteen and one-half knots an hour, for which the blockading fleet was not prepared. But Admiral Sampson's instructions were simple and well understood—"Should the enemy come out, close in and head him off"—and every ship was now endeavoring to obey that standing command while they piled on coal and steamed up.
Meanwhile, from the rapidly approaching New York the signal fluttered—"Close into the mouth of the harbor and engage the enemy;" but the admiral was too far away, or the men were too busy to see this signal, which they were, nevertheless, obeying to the letter.
It was not until the leading Spanish cruiser had almost reached the western point of the bay, and when it was evident that Cervera was leading his entire fleet in one direction, that the battle commenced in its fury. The Iowa and the Oregon headed straight for the shore, intending to ram if possible one or more of the Spaniards. The Indiana and the Texas were following, and the Brooklyn, in the endeavor to cut off the advance ship, was headed straight for the western point. The little unprotected Gloucester steamed right across the harbor mouth and engaged the Oquendo at closer range than any of the other ships, at the same time firing on the Furor and Pluton, which were rapidly approaching.
It then became apparent that the Oregon and Iowa could not ram, and that the Brooklyn could not head them off, as she had hoped, and, turning in a parallel course with them, a running fight ensued. Broadside after broadside came fast with terrific slaughter. The rapid-fire guns of the Iowa nearest the Teresa enveloped the former vessel in a mantle of smoke and flame. She was followed by the Oregon, Indiana, Texas, and Brooklyn, all pouring a rain of red-hot steel and exploding shell into the fleeing cruisers as they passed along in their desperate effort to escape. The Furor and Pluton dashed like mad colts for the Brooklyn, and Commodore Schley signaled—"Repel torpedo-destroyers." Some of the heavy ships turned their guns upon the little monsters. It was short work. Clouds of black smoke rising from their thin sides showed how seriously they suffered as they floundered in the sea.
REAR-ADMIRAL JOHN C. WATSON.
Commander of the Blockading Fleet at Havana.
The Brooklyn and Oregon dashed on after the cruisers, followed by the other big ships, leaving the Furor and Pluton to the Gloucester, hoping the New York, which was coming in the distance, would arrive in time to help her out if she needed it. The firing from the main and second batteries of all the battleships—Oregon, Iowa, Texas—and the cruiser Brooklyn was turned upon the Vizcaya, Teresa, and Oquendo with such terrific broadsides and accuracy of aim that the Spaniards were driven from their guns repeatedly; but the officers gave the men liquor and drove them back, beating and sometimes shooting down those who weakened, without mercy; but under the terrific fire of the Americans the poor wretches were again driven away or fell mangled by their guns or stunned from the concussions of the missiles on the sides of their ships.
Presently flames and smoke burst out from the Teresa and the Oquendo. The fire leaped from the port-holes; and amid the din of battle and above it all rose the wild cheers of the Americans as both these splendid ships slowly reeled like drunken men and headed for the shore. "They are on fire! We've finished them," shouted the gunners. Down came the Spanish flags. The news went all over the ships—it being commanded by Commodore Schley to keep everyone informed, even those far below in the fire-rooms—and from engineers and firemen in the hot bowels of the great leviathans to the men in the fighting-tops the welkin rang until the shins reverberated with exuberant cheers.