Hurrah! they are broken—
Hurrah! boys, they fly—
None linger save those
Who but linger to die.
THE GREAT NAVAL BATTLE OF SANTIAGO.
Hold your body erect, but not awkwardly stiff, let every nerve be tense, your voice full and round, and let your manner indicate that you have a grand story to relate, as you recite Admiral Schley’s thrilling description of the great naval battle at Santiago. You are depicting the scene as though you were there and yourself won the brilliant victory.
One hour before the Spaniards appeared my quartermaster on the Brooklyn reported to me that Cervera’s fleet was coaling up. This was just what I expected, and we prepared everything for a hot reception. Away over the hills great clouds of smoke could be faintly seen rising up to the sky. A little later and the smoke began to move towards the mouth of the harbor. The black cloud wound in and out along the narrow channel, and every eye on board the vessels in our fleet strained with expectation.
The sailor boys were silent for a full hour and the grim old vessels lay back like tigers waiting to pounce upon their prey. Suddenly the whole Spanish fleet shot out of the mouth of the channel. It was the grandest spectacle I ever witnessed. The flames were pouring out of the funnels, and as it left the channel the fleet opened fire with every gun on board. Their guns were worked as rapidly as possible, and shells were raining around like hail.