It was a grand charge. My first impression was that of a lot of maddened bulls, goaded to desperation, dashing at their tormentors. The storm of projectiles and shells was the hottest imaginable. I wondered where they all came from. Just as the vessels swung around the Brooklyn opened up with three shells, and almost simultaneously the rest of the fleet fired. Our volley was a terrible shock to the Spaniards, and so surprised them that they must have been badly rattled.
When our fleet swung around and gave chase, we not only had to face the fire from the vessels, but were bothered by a cross-fire from the forts on either side, which opened on our fleet as soon as the Spaniards shot out of the harbor. The engagement lasted three hours, but I hardly knew what time was. I remember crashing holes through the Spanish Admiral’s flagship, the Maria Teresa, and giving chase to the Colon.
I was on the bridge of the Brooklyn during the whole engagement, and at times the smoke was so dense that I could not see three yards ahead of me. The shells from the enemy’s fleet were whistling around and bursting everywhere, except where they could do some damage. I seemed to be the only thing on the vessel not protected by heavy armor, and oh! how I would have liked to get behind some of that armor!
I don’t know how I kept my head, but I do know that I surprised myself by seeing and knowing all that was going on, and I could hear my voice giving orders to do just what my head thought was right, while my heart was trying to get beneath the shelter of the armored deck. How do I account for such a victory with so little loss? That would mean how do I account for the rain of Spanish shell not doing more execution? They fought nobly and desperately, but they were not a match for our Yankee officers and sailors.
I was proud of the boys in our fleet during that engagement. They knew just what their guns could do, and not one shot was wasted. Their conduct was wonderful. It was inspiring. It was magnificent. Men who can stand behind big guns and face a black storm of shells and projectiles as coolly as though nothing was occurring; men who could laugh because a shell had missed hitting them; men who could bet one another on shots and lay odds in the midst of the horrible crashing; men who could not realize that they were in danger—such men are wonders, and we have a whole navy of wonders.
Admiral W. S. Schley.
HOBSON’S DARING DEED.
Let your tones of voice be strong and bold, not boisterous, and give to the most spirited lines full force. You are depicting a daring deed, and it must not be done in a weak, timid, hesitating way, but with strong utterance and emphasis. The sinking of the steam collier Merrimac was a famous exploit.
