THE YANKEES IN BATTLE.
For courage and dash there is no parallel in history to this action of the Spanish Admiral. He came, as he knew, to absolute destruction. There was one single hope. That was that the Spanish ship Cristobal Colon would steam faster than the American ship Brooklyn. The spectacle of two torpedo-boat destroyers, paper shells at best, deliberately steaming out in broad daylight in the face of the fire of battleships can only be described in one way. It was Spanish, and it was ordered by the Spanish General Blanco. The same may be said of the entire movement.
In contrast to the Spanish fashion was the cool, deliberate Yankee work. The American squadron was without sentiment apparently. The ships went at their Spanish opponents and literally tore them to pieces. Admiral Cervera was taken aboard the Iowa from the Gloucester, which had rescued him, and he was received with a full Admiral’s guard. The crew of the Iowa crowded aft over the turrets, half naked and black with powder, as Cervera stepped over the side bareheaded. The crew cheered vociferously. The Admiral submitted to the fortunes of war with a grace that proclaimed him a thoroughbred.
The officers of the Spanish ship Vizcaya said they simply could not hold their crews at the guns on account of the rapid fire poured upon them. The decks were flooded with water from the fire hose, and the blood from the wounded made this a dark red. Fragments of bodies floated in this along the gun deck. Every instant the crack of exploding shells told of new havoc.
The torpedo boat Ericsson was sent by the flagship to the help of the Iowa in the rescue of the Vizcaya’s crew. Her men saw a terrible sight. The flames, leaping out from the huge shot holes in the Vizcaya’s sides, licked up the decks, sizzling the flesh of the wounded who were lying there shrieking for help. Between the frequent explosions there came awful cries and groans from the men pinned in below. This carnage was chiefly due to the rapidity of the American fire.
From two 6-pounders 400 shells were fired in fifty minutes. Up in the tops the marines banged away with 1-pounders, too excited to step back to duck as the shells whistled over them. One gunner of a secondary battery under a 12-inch gun was blinded by smoke and saltpetre from the turret, and his crew were driven off, but sticking a wet handkerchief over his face, with holes cut for his eyes, he stuck to his gun.
Finally, as the 6-pounders were so close to the 8-inch turret as to make it impossible to stay there with safety, the men were ordered away before the big gun was fired, but they refused to leave. When the 3-inch gun was fired, the concussion blew two men of the smaller gun’s crew ten feet from their guns and threw them to the deck as deaf as posts. Back they went again, however, and were again blown away, and finally had to be dragged away from their stations. Such bravery and such dogged determination under the heavy fire were of frequent occurrence on all the ships engaged.
Captain R. D. Evans.