According to Commodore Dewey’s report, the shore batteries began firing at a quarter-past five. The Olympia, flying the signal “Remember the Maine,” led the American column, followed closely by the Baltimore, Raleigh, Petrel, Concord, and Boston in the order named. The ships came on in a line approximately parallel to that of the enemy, reserving their fire until within effective range. As the fleet advanced two submarine mines were exploded, but neither did any damage. At twenty minutes to six Commodore Dewey shouted to Captain Gridley in the conning-tower of the flag-ship: “Fire as soon as you get ready, Gridley.” Instantly the Olympia discharged her broadside, the Baltimore followed the lead, and each successive ship in turn discharged every gun that could be brought to bear. The Spanish returned the fire with great energy, but with inconclusive results. Several of the American ships were struck, but no casualties followed. Lieutenant Brumby, of the flag-ship, had the signal halliards shot out of his hands; a shot passed clean through the Baltimore, and another smashed into the foremast of the Boston. Incessantly firing, the battle-line steamed past the whole length of the stationary Spanish fleet, then swung slowly around and began the countermarch. Once Montojo’s flag-ship, the Reina Cristina, made a desperate attempt to leave the line and engage at close quarters, but she was quickly driven back.
A little after half-past seven the American commander ordered the firing to be stopped, and the fleet headed for the eastern side of the bay for breakfast and a redistribution of ammunition for the big guns. The Spaniards, seeing the withdrawal of the American vessels, rashly concluded that the enemy had been repulsed and raised a feeble cheer. In reality they were hopelessly beaten: several of their ships were on fire, the decks of all were covered with dead and dying men, and ammunition was running low.
At a quarter-past eleven the battle was renewed. Several of the Spanish ships were now disabled and on fire, and Admiral Montojo had been forced to transfer his flag to the Isla de Cuba.
A few minutes later the Reina Cristina, his former flag-ship, was blazing from end to end, and the explosion of her magazine completed the destruction of the vessel. One after another the Spanish ships succumbed under the storm of shot and shell, and either surrendered or were cut to pieces. The Don Antonio de Ulloa, riddled like a sieve and on fire in a dozen places, refused to acknowledge defeat, and went down with colors flying. Finally, Admiral Montojo hauled down his flag, and, leaving the Isla de Cuba, escaped to the shore. The arsenal building at Cavité ran up the white flag, and at half-past one Commodore Dewey signalled to his ships that they might anchor at discretion.
BATTLE OF MANILA BAY
Never was victory more decisive. Not a man had been killed on the American side, and but four men were wounded—this through the explosion of a Spanish shell on the Baltimore. None of the American ships received any material damage. On the other hand, the following Spanish ships were completely destroyed: Reina Cristina (flag-ship), Castilla, Don Antonio de Ulloa, Don Juan de Austria, Isla de Luzon, Isla de Cuba, Marquiz del Duero, General Lezo, Correo, Velasco, and Isla de Mandanao. The casualties on the Spanish side amounted to about four hundred men. Moreover, the water-batteries of Cavité had been demolished, the arsenal had been captured, and the city of Manila lay defenceless under the guns of the American fleet.
But Commodore Dewey’s difficulties were by no means at an end. He had immediately proclaimed a blockade of the port. The German Pacific squadron, under Vice-Admiral von Diederich, had arrived at Manila shortly after the battle, and were, of course, in the position of neutrals, having access to the harbor merely on the ground of international courtesy. This privilege the Germans quickly began to abuse, disregarding Commodore Dewey’s regulations at will, and committing various acts inconsistent with the neutrality laws. Their attitude was both annoying and insolent, and it was evident that it must be promptly and effectually checked if the American supremacy were to be maintained.
At last the opportunity came. Commodore Dewey learned, on unquestionable authority, that one of the German vessels had been landing provisions at Manila, thereby violating neutrality. He immediately sent a vigorous protest to Admiral von Diederich—a message that ended with these significant words: “And, Brumby, tell Admiral von Diederich that if he wants a fight he can have it right now.”
That was enough. The German admiral was not quite ready to involve his country in a war with the United States; he made an apology, and the incident was closed.