It seemed that all the vessels of the blockade had caught the alarm at the same time, and the flagship's signal was quickly changed for another—"Clear ship for action!"
But it was quite unnecessary. On every ship men were dropping off the white clothes which they had donned for general muster, and hurrying to their quarters without waiting for a command. Every wooden thing was tumbled overboard, water-tight compartments were hastily shut, hose was coupled up and strung along the decks ready to fight fire, battle-hatches were lowered, and in less time than it takes to tell of it all this was accomplished. Then at the sudden blast of a bugle the five hundred and more men to a ship stood at their posts, each one where he would be most needed in battle, and all perfectly silent. Doubtless every eye was turned toward Estrella Point, where the Spanish vessels, if indeed coming out, must first show themselves, and there presently a huge black hull appeared. It came out far enough to show a turret, and from that came a flash, and then the boom of a heavy shot, instantly answered by a six-pounder from the Iowa. The battle had begun, and "Fighting Bob" Evans had fired the first shot.
That ship just coming out was the Maria Teresa, and she was followed by the Vizcaya, the Cristobal Colon, and the Almirante Oquendo. All the American ships were standing in toward the harbor to meet them, firing rapidly from every gun that could be brought to bear. It was uncertain at first which way the Spaniards would turn when they had passed the shoals that extend half a mile beyond the mouth of the harbor. If they turned eastward they would have to run into the midst of the most formidable ships of our squadron. If they went directly west they might outrun the battleships and escape. The Brooklyn was the fastest ship on the blockade, and was also in the best position to head off the Spaniards should they take that course. But it was possible she might be lost, as she was no match for the number of the enemy that would be in a position to engage her when she came up to them. Commodore Schley says that the possibility of losing his ship in that way entered very clearly into his calculations, but also that in sinking the Brooklyn the Spaniards would be delayed long enough for the battleships to come up to them and that then there would be no reason to fear their escape. The difficulty was that because the Brooklyn was on a parallel course with the Spaniards, and going in a directly opposite direction, she would have to make a complete circle in order to chase them; and had they had the speed with which they were credited, that would have put the Brooklyn out of the fight, one of her engines being uncoupled, and in consequence her speed greatly reduced.
But the Spanish vessels fell far behind their estimated speed, so that the Brooklyn was able to circle about and still overhaul the fleetest of them, and the Texas, the slowest of our battleships, held its own in the race.
The Maria Teresa passed the shoals and turned west. The little Vixen, lying near the Brooklyn, when she saw the Maria Teresa turn toward her, fired off her six-pounders, then slipped away, while the rest of the American ships came rushing down toward the enemy with their funnels belching black smoke, and turrets, hulls, and tops spurting out red flames and yellow smoke. They steamed toward the foe as fast as possible, at the same time firing fiercely from every gun that could be brought to bear, and paying no attention to the shore batteries which were firing upon them. The Indiana was nearest the shore and nearest the Maria Teresa, the leading ship of the enemy, when the fight began. It is said that the water fairly boiled with the flood of projectiles from Morro and the broadside with which the Maria Teresa opened battle. As she turned toward the west the shot from the Indiana struck her more than once; but after that the Indiana gave her attention to the Vizcaya.
By this time all the American ships were engaged, but in the dense smoke it was almost impossible to make out how great was the success of any single one.
But Commodore Eaton, who was watching the fight from the tug Resolute, says: "As the Vizcaya came out I distinctly saw one of the Indiana's heavy shells strike her abaft the funnels, and the explosion of this shell was followed by a burst of flame, which for a time obscured the after part of the stricken ship." The Iowa and Oregon, belching forth great clouds of smoke until they looked like huge yellow clouds on the water, steamed straight toward the fleeing enemy. Says Mr. Abbott: "As the battleships closed in on their prey, they overlapped each other, and careless use of the guns or failure to make out accurately the target might have resulted in one of our ships firing into another. But so skilfully were they handled that at no time were they put in jeopardy from either the guns or the rams of each other, though at one time the Oregon was firing right across the deck of the Texas."
The end of the Maria Teresa, the first ship to leave the harbor, came upon her very swiftly, and was frightful. The shells and small projectiles searched out every part of her, spreading death and ruin, and soon setting her woodwork ablaze. The scarlet flames like snakes' tongues darted viciously from her sides; but her gunners stood manfully to their guns. Little smoke hung about her, and her bold black hulk seen against the green background of the hills made her a perfect target. A shot from the Brooklyn cut her main water-pipe, and a shell—probably from the Oregon—entered her hull and exploded in the engine room; a six-inch shell from the Iowa exploded in her forward turret, killing or wounding every man at the guns; while the storm of smaller projectiles swept her decks, and with the noise of their bursting made it impossible for the men to hear their officers' commands.
Admiral Cervera was on that vessel. One of his officers, telling of it afterward, said: "He expected to lose most of his ships, but thought the Cristobal Colon might escape; that is why he transferred his flag to the Maria Teresa, that he might perish with the less fortunate." And this is the story told an American journalist by another officer who stood by the admiral's side while that dreadful fight went on. Of a shell from the Brooklyn he said: "It struck us in the bow, ploughing down amidships; then it exploded. It tore down the bulkheads, destroyed stanchions, crippled two rapid-fire guns, and killed fifteen or twenty men." Of a shell from the Iowa he said: "It struck the eleven-inch gun in the forward turret of the cruiser, cutting a furrow as clean as a knife out of the gun. The shell exploded halfway in the turret, making the whole vessel stagger and shake in every plate. When the fumes and smoke had cleared away so that it was possible to enter the turret, the other gunners were sent there. The survivors tumbled the bodies which filled the wrecked turret through the ammunition hoist to the lower deck. Even the machinery was clogged with corpses. All our rapid-fire guns aloft soon became silent, because every gunner had been either killed or crippled at his post and lay on the deck where he fell. There were so many wounded that the surgeons ceased trying to dress the wounds. Shells had exploded inside the ship, and even the hospital was turned into a furnace. The first wounded who were sent there had to be abandoned by the surgeons, who fled for their lives from the intolerable heat."
The Teresa came under the fire of our guns about 9.35 that morning. Fifteen minutes later smoke was rising from her ports and hatches, showing that she had been set afire by the American shells. The shot from the Brooklyn that cut her water-main made it impossible to extinguish the flames, and the fire from the American ships grew more accurate and deadly every minute; so she was beached and her flag hauled down in token of surrender.