Hamilton Fish died a few minutes after receiving his wound. I passed him just after he was shot, and directed some of the skirmishers where to move. He thought I was speaking to him, and, raising himself on his elbow, said: "I am wounded; I am wounded!" and died a few minutes after that.
We thought at first that the Spaniards were using explosive bullets, but we found they were merely brass-covered bullets.
A detailed description of the Santiago fight is told by the
Gloucester crew, which was first to sight Cervera's fleet as it
steamed out of the harbor on the morning of Sunday, July 3. Ensign
Sawyer's letter reads:
Last evening we went into Guantanamo and saw the camp where our marines had so gallantly held their own. The Marblehead, with McCalla, was there, also the New York, the Iowa and that hero of the battle, the Oregon. The Gloucester also was there.
The greatest desire naturally possessed us to hear the details of the wonderful battle in which the Cape Verde fleet was destroyed. The Gloucester's story, though we had but a few moments, was most interesting so far as we have heard. She was lying closest to the entrance, and had just finished Sunday morning inspection when the lookout hailed: "They're coming out!"
ORDER OF THE EXIT.
Instantly all eyes were directed on the familiar harbor mouth, and they could hardly believe their eyes to see those magnificent ships standing out in broad daylight. The Maria Teresa, Vizcaya, Oquendo and Colon swung to the windward, and not a shot was fired at the Gloucester. Evidently she was too small to waste shell on, or else all eyes were on the larger vessels. Following those grand ships came the destroyers Pluton and Furor, which have been so much dreaded. The Gloucester immediately stood for them full speed and opened fire, the Pluton and Furor firing rapidly, but not striking. The Gloucester finally got in between them and rained shell upon them from her rapid-fire guns. The Iowa also let go her battery, and one of her large shells literally tore the stern out of the Furor. The Gloucester simply overwhelmed the Pluton with her shells, and a white flag was shown, whereupon Lieutenant Wood went over as quickly as possible to save the lives of the crew. She was a perfect hell on board. On fire below, one engine was still going, and there were only eight men not killed. He put these in the boat, tried to go below to save the vessel if possible, but could not on account of the fire. The boat shoved off to transfer the men to his vessel, when the Pluton blew up with a terrible explosion and sank. The boat was just a few feet clear when the magazine or boilers exploded.
Meantime the armored cruisers of the enemy stood to the west and were engaged by the Brooklyn, Oregon, Texas, Indiana and Iowa. The Maria Teresa and Oquendo were run ashore, burning fiercely, five and one-half or six miles west of the harbor. The Vizcaya and Colon engaged in a running fight with the Oregon, Texas and Brooklyn, but the first was practically destroyed and run ashore thirty-four miles west, and the latter surrendered sixty miles west of Santiago.
It was a terrible battle, and our escape from terrible loss is nothing short of miraculous. The Spaniards were really fighting four ships against five, and the superiority of the Americans was due more to their skill than material. If the Americans had manned Cervera's fleet the victory would have been ours just the same.
The Massachusetts and Newark were at Guantanamo coaling. The New York had gone five miles farther to the east than her usual station to allow the admiral to communicate with Shafter. The Oregon distinguished herself by overhauling and passing the Brooklyn and forced the Colon's surrender. We have not yet seen any of the fellows on the vessels that took part in the pursuit.