History of the United States, Volume 5 - Elisha Benjamin Andrews

It was decided to block the narrow channel by sinking the collier Merrimac across its neck. Just before dawn on June 3d the young naval constructor, Hobson, with six volunteers chosen from scores of eager competitors, and one stowaway who joined them against orders, pushed the hulk between the headland forts into a roaring hell of projectiles. An explosion from within rent the Merrimac’s hull, and she sank; but, the rudder being shot away, went down lengthwise of the channel. When the firing ceased, the little crew, exhausted, but not one of the eight missing, clustered, only heads out of water, around their raft. A launch drew near. In charge was the Spanish admiral, who took them aboard with admiring kindness, and despatched a boat to notify the American fleet of their safety.

The Collier Merrimac Sunk by Hobson at the Mouth of Santiago Harbor.

It was well that “Hobson’s choice” as to the way his tub should sink failed. On July 3d, just after Sampson steamed away to see Shafter, the Maria Teresa was seen poking her nose from the Santiago harbor, followed by the Almirante Oquendo, the Vizcaya, and the Christobal Colon. Under peremptory orders from his Government, Admiral Cervera had begun a mad race to destruction. “It is better,” said he, “to die fighting than to blow up the ships in the harbor.” These had become the grim alternatives.

The Brooklyn gave chase, the other vessels in suit, the Texas and the Oregon leading. As the admiral predicted, it was “a dreadful holocaust.” One by one his vessels had to head for the beach, silenced, crippled, flames bursting from decks, portholes, and the rents torn by our cannonade. Two destroyers, Furor and Pluton, met their fate near the harbor. Only the Colon remained any time afloat, but her doom was sealed. Outdoing the other pursuers and her own contract speed the grand Oregon, pride of the navy, poured explosives upon the Spaniard, until, within three hours and forty minutes of the enemy’s appearance, his last vessel was reduced to junk. Cervera was captured with 76 officers and 1,600 men. 350 Spaniards were killed, 160 wounded. The American losses were inconsiderable. The ships’ injuries also were hardly more than trifling.

So closed the third of July, so opened the glorious Fourth! To Shafter and his men the navy’s victory was worth a reenforcement of 100,000. Bands played, tired soldiers danced, shouted, and hugged each other. Correspondingly depressed were the Spaniards. They endeavored, as Hobson had, to choke the harbor throat with the Reina Mercedes; but she, like the Merrimac, had her steering apparatus shot away and sank lengthwise of the channel. Still, it was not deemed wise to attempt forcing a way in, nor did this prove necessary. Toral saw reenforcements extending the American right to surround him, and out at sea over fifty transports loaded with fresh soldiers. Spanish honor had been signalized not only by the devoted heroism of Cervera’s men but by the gallantry of his own. The Americans offered to convey his command back to Spain free of charge. He therefore sought from Madrid, and after some days obtained, authority to surrender. He surrendered July 16th. Besides the Santiago garrison, Toral’s entire command in eastern Cuba, about 24,000 men, became our prisoners of war.

From a Photograph by F. C. Hemment. Copyright, 1898, by W. R. Hearst.
The Spanish Cruiser Christobal Colon.