Now the ships that he had left on guard did close in with what speed they could command, while their sweating stokers toiled like demons in the hideous heat of the fire-rooms to produce still greater heat and more steam. As the on-rushing Spaniards cleared the harbor's mouth, every American ship was moving towards them and delivering a fire so incredibly terrific and of such deadly accuracy that its like was never known in the whole history of naval warfare.
At the outset the little Gloucester, commanded by Lieutenant-Commander Richard Wainwright, who had been navigating officer of the Maine at the time of her destruction, made a dash for her legitimate opponents, the two torpedo-boats. They in turn sought shelter behind the Oquendo, and for a minute it looked as though the yacht were about to attack the big cruiser. Then the Texas began to pay particular attention to the Oquendo; and, seemingly content to leave her in such good hands, the Gloucester again started after the destroyers. Suddenly a great shell from the Indiana, hurled over the yacht, struck one of them fairly amidships, and, with a roar heard high above the din of firing, the unfortunate boat plunged to the bottom, carrying with her all on board.
The Gloucester now directed her energies against the remaining destroyer, running well within range of the shore batteries to get at her, and within ten minutes had so riddled her with a storm of small projectiles that she lowered her colors, turned in towards the beach, struck on a reef, and in another moment was being helplessly pounded to pieces by the surf. At the same time small boats from the plucky yacht that had placed her in this sad plight were busily engaged in rescuing such of her crew as could be reached.
In the mean time both the Teresa and Oquendo had received so frightful a fire from the Indiana, Iowa, and Texas, that within six miles of Santiago Harbor the former, enveloped in flames, and no longer capable of defending herself, was also headed for the beach, where the gallant little Gloucester soon afterwards came to her assistance and rescued hundreds of her perishing crew, including brave old Admiral Cervera.
A few minutes later the Almirante Oquendo, with colors lowered and flames pouring from her open ports, also turned slowly inshore, and was beached within half a mile of the Spanish flag-ship. It was only forty minutes since the fight began; but in that short space four of the Spanish squadron had been destroyed, without loss of life to the Americans, and but slight damage to their ships. With the burning Teresa and Oquendo stayed the battle-ship Indiana, her men working in eager emulation with those of the Gloucester to save the lives of their recent enemies.
The next victim to succumb beneath the terrible American fire was the superb Vizcaya, which, pounded to death by the Brooklyn, Oregon, and Texas, was run on the beach at Aserraderos, seventeen miles west of Santiago Bay, a few minutes after eleven o'clock. Like her unfortunate consorts, she also was a mass of flame, and had no sooner struck than scores of her people leaped overboard to escape being roasted alive. Among these swimmers a body of Cuban troops poured a cowardly fire from the beach; but Captain Evans of the Iowa quickly put a stop to that, and stood by the blazing wreck so long as there was a Spaniard left to be rescued from flame or flood.
Of all Cervera's powerful squadron only a single ship was now left, the swift Cristobal Colon, which, by keeping behind the others, had as yet come to little harm. When the Vizcaya was run ashore, the Colon was more than four miles ahead of her leading pursuer, the Brooklyn. Close on the heels of the latter came the wonderful battle-ship Oregon, which had unexpectedly developed such extraordinary speed that, although starting next to the last of the American ships, she now very nearly led the chase. Next behind her came the Texas, while the superb New York, though still far in the rear, was overhauling all three, and had the race been long enough would eventually have exchanged broadsides with the Colon.
But she was not to be granted that satisfaction; for shortly after one o'clock, when the chase had lasted two hours, the Oregon threw a couple of great thirteen-inch shells, at a range of five miles, so close to the flying Spaniard that they deluged her with tons of water. Upon this, to the surprise of every one, and without making any sort of a fight, the finest ship of the Spanish navy lowered her flag and was headed in for the beach. After she had thus surrendered, and before the Americans could board, she was wrecked by her own crew, who opened sea-valves, smashed out dead lights, threw overboard the breech-blocks of their great guns, and in many other ways worked what destruction they could in the time allotted. As a result of this vandalism, the fine ship rolled over on her side soon after striking, and would have slipped off into deep water had not the New York rammed her to a better position higher up the beach.
Thus was destroyed the fine squadron that had been a menace to the Americans ever since the war began. Spain's loss was 600 human lives, 1200 prisoners, and six ships, valued at $12,000,000; while that of the Americans was one man killed and three wounded, all on the Brooklyn, together with a few trifling injuries to the Brooklyn, Iowa, and Texas.
And Ridge Norris, from the deck of the little Speedy, had been a spectator of the whole affair from beginning to end. Thrilled with such excitement as he had never before known, he had seen ship after ship wearing the proud colors of Spain driven helplessly to the beach by the withering blasts of Yankee gunnery, until all were destroyed. Never before had our young American been so proud of his country and his countrymen. Now his wonderful day was to be crowned with a great honor; for, no sooner was it certain that the Colon had surrendered, than a message from the flag-ship bade the Speedy return with all haste to Siboney and land the army officer whom she had brought out, that he might convey the glorious news to General Shafter and the men in the trenches before Santiago.