"During the fight there were two very interesting moments, the first when the four big cruisers of the enemy came outside of the harbor, firing away with mechanical regularity and presenting a most magnificent spectacle. They were not hitting anything, but that made little difference at that time, they tried hard enough. As we closed in, there came a moment when the fleeing Spanish ships had an almost perfect chance to use their rams on our vessels. I submit now that not a single one changed his course a single inch. They came out of that harbor and ran away, and that was all they attempted to do, fighting as they went.
"The second point was when 'Dick' Wainwright misread a signal. I know he won't admit that he did misread it; however, I'll tell you the incident. In the Gloucester Wainwright was just off the harbor mouth when the two Spanish torpedo boat destroyers were noticed making straight at him. The Indiana signaled 'The enemy's torpedo boats are coming out.' Wainwright read it 'Close in and attack enemy's torpedo boats,' and you know the rest of the story.
"There was a dramatic picture which I want to call your attention to. It was after the Vizcaya had run ashore, and I had to stop the Iowa, some 400 yards away. I saw the survivors on a sand bar, which was merely a narrow strip of about 200 yards from shore, on either side of a small inlet. On one side a school of hungry sharks were making fierce rushes toward the men, and on the other, the Cubans were shooting away, utterly regardless of the fact that they were fighting a helpless foe. Out in front we were not supposed to be very friendly.
"Finally, I saw Captain Eulate, of the destroyed ship, coming toward my vessel in a small boat. Now Eulate is what you call a black Spaniard, one of those fellows that would cry as though his heart would break every few minutes when in trouble. He sat in the stern of a small boat that had belonged to his vessel. She was partly stove in and had about a foot of water, or I should say blood and water, in her bottom.
"As I looked down in the gangway I think it was the most horrible sight that I ever witnessed. In the bottom of the boat lay two dead Spaniards, one with his head completely shot away. The Spanish Captain was wounded in three places, and each of the four men who rowed his boat was more or less cut up. We slung a chair over the side and carefully hauled him on board.
"As he came up to the starboard gangway the marine guard saluted and he was received with all the honors of his rank. As he stepped toward me he burst into tears, threw his hands up in the air, and then, with a gesture of utter despair, but with all the grace of the pretty gentleman, loosed his sword belt and pressing a fervent kiss on the hilt of the weapon he extended it toward me. Every man on that ship knew that that Spaniard was giving up something of value equal to his life. I am not very good-natured, but I could not take that sword."
This met with loud cries of "You did right, Bob," and one lusty-lunged individual announced that there was not a man in the country that would take it. Captain Evans, who recognized the speaker, a friend from the rural districts, answered: "Oh, you don't know what some of those up-country Pennsylvanians would do. It was a pretty good sword."
Continuing, Captain Evans said: "I didn't know exactly what to do with the Spanish Captain to get him into our sick bay. As I was about to ask him of his wound he stepped toward the gangway and looked shoreward. About a quarter of a mile off lay the once magnificent vessel in which he had boasted he would tow the Brooklyn back to Spain.
"She was burning fore and aft, terrific columns of flame shooting up around her, and suddenly, with a burst of tears, Captain Eulate kissed his hand and bade fond farewell to the burning hulk and said with impassioned voice, 'Adios Viscaya.' As he did this the very same instant there came a tremendous roar and the Vizcaya's magazine blew her superstructure hundreds of feet into the air. Had the incident occurred that way on the stage anybody would have said it was too well timed.
"He turned back and we got him into the ship's hospital, where the surgeons placed him on his stomach to shave the hair around a small cut on the back of his head. I stood alongside of him, and rolling his eyes into the starboard corner he said to me, with a rather comical expression, 'I think I have heard of you before.' I told him I did not know how that could have been, and he asked: 'Did you not command the Indiana?' 'Yes,' I said; then he said, shaking his head as well as circumstances would permit, 'Yes, I have heard of you. You are "Bob" Evans.'