A 4.7-inch armour-piercing shell punctured her side on the main-deck line, tore up the wooden deck, and, striking the steel deck under this, glanced upward, went through the after engine-room hatch, and, emerging, struck the cylinder of the port 6-inch gun on the quarter-deck, temporarily rendering the gun unfit for use.
In its flight it also struck a box of 3-pounder ammunition, exploding one shell, which in turn slightly wounded one of No. 4 gun’s crew.
One shell pierced her starboard side forward of No. 2 sponson, and lodged in a clothes-locker on the berth-deck; another struck her port beam a little above the water-line, and a few feet forward of, and above this, another shell came crashing across the berth-deck, striking a steam-pipe and exploding behind the starboard blower-engine, but with no serious results. A fragment of a shell went through one of the ventilators, and the colours of the mainmast were shot through.
The concussion from the 8-inch guns on the poop shattered the whaleboats, and they had to be cut adrift. A fragment of a shell that burst over the quarter-deck cut the signal halliards which Lieutenant Brumby held in his hand.
On the Boston a shell came through a port-hole in Ensign Doddridge’s stateroom, and wrecked it badly. The explosion set a fire which was quickly put out. Another shell struck the port hammock netting, where it burst, setting fire to the hammocks. This was also soon extinguished. Still another shell struck the Boston’s foremast, cutting a great gash in it. It came within twenty feet of Captain Wildes on the bridge.
The Raleigh was forced inshore by the strong current, and carried directly upon the bows of two Spanish cruisers. By all the rules of warfare she should have been sunk; but instead, her commander delivered two raking broadsides as she steamed back into place.
Three times the American ships passed back and forth, opening first with one broadside and then with another as the ship swung around, and then the Reina Christina, black smoke pouring from her stacks, and a vapour as of wool coming from the steam-pipes, gallantly sallied out to meet the Olympia.
Between the two flag-ships ensued a duel, in which the Spaniard was speedily worsted to such a degree that she was literally forced to turn and make for the shore. As she swung around, with her stern directly toward the Olympia, an 8-inch shell struck her squarely, and the explosive must have travelled directly through the ill-fated craft until it reached the after boiler, where it exploded, ripping up the decks, and vomiting forth showers of iron fragments and portions of dismembered human bodies.
A gunboat came out from behind the Cavite pier, and made directly for the Olympia. In less than five minutes she was in a sinking condition; as she turned, a shell struck her just inside the stern railing, and she disappeared beneath the waves as if crushed by some titanic force.
Navigator Calkins of the Olympia had soundings taken, and told Commodore Dewey that he could take the ship farther in toward the Spanish fleet.
“Take her in, then,” the commodore replied.
The ship moved up to within two thousand yards of the Spanish fleet. This brought the smaller guns into effective play.
The rain of shell upon the doomed Spaniards was terrific.
The Castilla was in flames from stem to stern. Black smoke poured up from the decks of the Isla de Cuba, and on the flag-ship fire was completing the work of destruction begun by the American shells.
It was 7.35 A. M. when the battle, which began at 5.41, came to a temporary close. The first round was concluded.
There was yet ample time in which to finish the work so well begun, and from the flag-ship Olympia went up the signal:
“Cease firing and follow.”
The fleet was headed for the opposite shore, and, once partially beyond range, “mess-gear” was sounded.
The only casualty worthy of mention which had occurred was the death of Chief Engineer Frank B. Randall, of the steamer McCulloch, who died from heart disease, probably superinduced by excitement, while the fleet was passing Corregidor.
There were handshakings and congratulations on every hand as smoke-begrimed friends, parted during the battle, met again, and loud were the cheers that went up from the various ships in passing.
After breakfast had been served and the ships made ready for the second round, or, in other words, at 10.15 in the forenoon, the Spanish flag-ship Reina Christina hauled down her colours, and the admiral’s flag was transferred to the Isla de Cuba.
At 10.45 a signal was made from the Olympia:
“Get under way with men at quarters.”
Again the fleet stood in toward Cavite, the Baltimore in the lead, but the latter vessel’s course was quickly changed as a strange steamer was observed entering the bay.
Not many moments were spent in reconnoitring; the signal flags soon told that the stranger was flying the English ensign.
Then came the order for the Baltimore to stand in and destroy the enemy’s fortifications, and ten minutes later the battle was on once more.
Now the fire was slow and deliberate, the gunners taking careful aim, bent on expending the least amount of ammunition with the greatest possible execution.
The Baltimore suffered most at the beginning of this second round, because all the enemy’s fire was concentrated upon her.
Soon after this second half of the engagement had begun a Spanish shell exploded on the Baltimore’s deck, wounding five of the crew, and another partially disabled three. It was as if every square yard of surface in that portion of the bay was covered by a missile from the enemy’s guns, and yet no further damage to the American fleet was done.
When the Baltimore was within twenty-five hundred-yard range she poured a broadside into the Reina Christina which literally blew that craft into fragments, and the smoke from the guns yet hung like a cloud above the deck when the ill-fated flag-ship sank beneath the waters of the bay.
The Don Juan de Austria was the next of the enemy’s fleet to be sunk, and then a like fate overtook the El Correo.
The General Lezo was run on shore and abandoned to the flames.
The cruiser Castilla was scuttled by her crew lest the fire which was raging fiercely should explode her magazine.
The Velasco went down before all her men could escape to the boats. The guns of the Don Antonio de Ulloa were fought with most desperate bravery, and even as she sank beneath the surface were the pieces discharged by the brave Spaniards who stood at their posts of duty until death overtook them.
The Concord started after the Mindanao lying close inshore, and was soon joined by the Olympia, who poured 8-inch shells into the transport until she was set on fire in a dozen places.
The entire Spanish fleet had been destroyed; not a vessel remained afloat, and Commodore Dewey turned his attention to the Cavite battery.
It was 12.45 P. M. when the magazine in the arsenal was exploded by a shell from the Olympia, or the Petrel, it is impossible to say which, and the battle of Manila had been fought and won.
Not until the thirteenth of May was Commodore Dewey’s official report received at the Navy Department, and then it was given to the public without loss of time. It is copied below:
“The squadron left Mirs Bay on April 27th. Arrived off Bolinao on the morning of April 30th, and finding no vessels there proceeded down the coast and arrived off the entrance to Manila Bay on the same afternoon. The Boston and Concord were sent to reconnoitre Point Subic… A thorough search of the port was made by the Boston and the Concord, but the Spanish fleet was not found…
“Entered the south channel at 11.30 P. M., steaming in column at eight knots. After half the squadron had passed, a battery on the south side of the channel opened fire, none of the shots taking