A series of sharp, crackling sounds followed, like exploding Chinese crackers, and then the thunderous roars and a vast volume of smoke rolled over the bay and enveloped the warships that were pouring their deadly fire into the Spanish vessels.  The American ships, in order to disconcert the aim of the batteries of the enemy, moved slowly in their terrible ellipses or loops, their sides spouting crimson flame and answered by the shots of the Spaniards, who fought with a courage deserving of all praise.  The manoeuvring of the American ships led the breathless swarms on shore to believe they were suffering defeat, and an exultant telegram to that effect was cabled to Madrid, nearly ten thousand miles away, where it caused a wild but short-lived rejoicing.

At half-past seven there was a lull.  Commodore Dewey drew off to replenish his magazines, of whose shortness of supply he had received disturbing reports.  Advantage was taken of the cessation to give the men breakfast, for it is a well accepted principle that sailors as well as soldiers fight best upon full stomachs.  As the wind blew aside the dense smoke, it was seen that the Reina Cristina, the Spanish flagship, was in flames.  Hardly two hours later the American squadron advanced again to the attack, and Admiral Montojo was observed to transfer his flag from the doomed Reina Cristina to the Isla de Cuba, which soon after was also ablaze.  Amid the crash and roar of the ponderous guns sounded the shrieks and cries of mortal agony from the Spanish crews, victims to the matchless gunnery of the Americans.

[Illustration:  THE “OLYMPIA” IN MANILA BAY.]

The latter pressed their advantage remorselessly.  The Don Juan de Austria was the centre of the heaviest fire, and suddenly a part of the deck flew upward in the air, carrying with it scores of dead and wounded.  A shot had exploded one of her magazines, and at the sight of the awful results Admiral Montojo threw up his arms in despair.  The crew refused to leave the blazing ship, and cursing and praying they went down with her.  Then the Castilla burst into one mass of roaring flame, and the rest of the defeated fleet skurried down the long narrow isle behind Cavite.  Others dashed up a small creek, where they grounded, and those that were left ran ashore.  By half-past eleven the batteries of Cavite were silenced, the Spanish fleet was destroyed, and the victorious Americans broke into ringing cheers.  The battle of Manila, one of the most remarkable in naval annals, was won and Commodore Dewey took rank among the greatest of all the heroes of the sea.

What a marvellous record!  Of the Spaniards, the dead and wounded numbered nearly a thousand, while not a single life had been lost by the American squadron.  Several were wounded, but none seriously.  No such victory between ironclads has thus far taken place in the history of the world.  In the face of mines, torpedoes and shore batteries, Commodore Dewey had won an overwhelming and crushing victory.  The power of Spain in the Philippines was forever destroyed, and another glorious victory had been added to the long list that illumines the story of the American navy.