from
the Spanish fleet and forts, and during all that time not a man had been
killed and not a ship seriously injured. Meanwhile, the Spanish fleet had
ceased to exist. Its burnt remains lay on the bottom of the bay. The forts
had been battered into shapeless heaps of earth, their garrisons killed or
put to flight. It was an awful example of the difference between accurate
gunnery and firing at random.

Two months later a second example of the same character was made. Spain's
finest squadron, consisting of the four first-class armored cruisers Maria
Teresa, Vizcaya, Almirante Oquendo, and Cristobal Colon, with two
torpedo-boat destroyers, lay in the harbor of Santiago de Cuba, blockaded
by a powerful American fleet of battle-ships and cruisers under Admiral
Sampson. They were held in a close trap. The town was being besieged by
land. Sampson's fleet far outnumbered them at sea. They must either
surrender with the town or take the forlorn hope of escape by flight.

The latter was decided upon. On the morning of July 3 the lookout on the
Brooklyn, Commodore Schley's flag-ship, reported that a ship was coming
out of the harbor. The cloud of moving smoke had been seen at the same
instant from the battle-ship Iowa, and in an instant the Sunday morning
calm on these vessels was replaced by intense excitement.

Mast-head signals told the other ships of what was in view, the men rushed
in mad haste to quarters, the guns were made ready for service, ammunition
was hoisted, coal hurled into the furnaces, and every man on the alert. It
was like a man suddenly awoke from sleep with an alarm cry: at one moment
silent and inert, in the next moment thrilling with intense life and
activity.

This was not a battle; it was a flight and pursuit. The Spaniards as soon
as the harbor was cleared opened a hot fire on the Brooklyn, their nearest
antagonist, which they wished to disable through fear of her superior
speed. But their gunnery here was like that at Manila, their shells being
wasted through unskilful handling. On the other hand the fire from the
American ships was frightful, precise, and destructive, the fugitive ships
being rapidly torn by such a rain of shells as had rarely been seen
before.

Turning down the coast, the fugitive ships drove onward at their utmost
speed. After them came the cruiser Brooklyn and the battle-ships Texas,
Iowa, Oregon, and Indiana, hurling shells from their great guns in their
wake. The New York,