till eight o’clock that night.  A thousand Spaniards, among them Admiral Cervera and his son, were brought to our ships, and were well tended.  Most of the Spaniards needed clothes, having thrown aside their garments when jumping into the sea; all needed food; a large number, being wounded, needed the care of our doctors.  What the captain of the Iowa said of his men may be said of the crews of all our other vessels:  “I cannot express my admiration for my magnificent crew.  So long as the enemy showed his flag, they fought like American seamen; but when the flag came down, they were as gentle and tender as American women.”

[Illustration:  Admiral Cervera.]

Admiral Cervera was picked up by the Gloucester, but afterwards was taken to the Iowa, where he was received with due honors.  The bugles were sounded as he came over the side of the ship, the officers saluted him as Admiral, the crew cheered him to show their admiration for his courage.  The Admiral’s kindness to Lieutenant Hobson was remembered by our men, and they showed that they were grateful.  Afterward, the Admiral was asked why the Spanish ships had not left the harbor during the hours of night, and he answered:  “The searchlights of your ships were too blinding.”

What a change had taken place in less than four hours on that Sunday!  The Spanish fleet had been destroyed, six hundred Spaniards had lost their lives, many were wounded, a thousand were in the hands of the Americans.  Our men had won a great victory, had not lost a ship, and had only one man killed and one wounded.

The story of the Gloucester’s fight with the “destroyers” has been graphically told by one who was on board her during that exciting time.

“The Spaniards were beginning to get the range with their deadly automatic one-pounders.  One shot in the right place would sink us.  There was a line of splashes in the water, like that made by jumping fish, tracing accurately the length of our vessel, and gradually coming nearer and nearer.

“Crash! crash! went our guns, and suddenly, when within ten yards of the ship, the splashes ceased.  The man at the gun had been killed.  We were saved temporarily, but still the enemy was fighting for dear life.  Both destroyers were trying their best to sink us; we refused to go down.  Suddenly the pin of number four gun dropped out and it was necessary to remove the breach block and find the pin.  It was all done quietly, quickly, but the nervous strain was awful.  We were now within five hundred yards of the Furor, firing; sometimes at her and sometimes at the Pluton.  At this point the New York went speeding by and cheered us as she passed.  Gradually the Pluton’s guns became silent, and it was evident that she was in distress.  She was making for the shore.

“Suddenly there was a great flash aboard her, a mass of steam rose into the air, and she had exploded, probably in the engine room.  Later we learned that a shot had passed clear through her boilers.  A great cheer went up from the Gloucester’s crew.  But what was the Furor doing?  Coming toward us?  It was the last act of desperation.  Again the starboard battery had come into use.  There was no time to be lost; either we must sink the Furor or she would sink us.