But after the first news of victory was received there came a period of delay.  It was learned that the cable between Manila and Hongkong had been cut, and the only means of immediate communication was suspended.

Then came fretful days of waiting and not a word further as to the great battle.  To add to the anxiety, from time to time came ugly rumors about Admiral Dewey being trapped, and when all the circumstances of the case were considered it is not strange that something like a chill of apprehension began to be felt as to the fate of the American fleet and its gallant commander.  Manila bay was known to be mined, and electric connections might again have been made.  The guns of the forts on the landlocked bay might not have been silenced, and Spanish treachery and guile might have accomplished what in open battle Spain’s fleet had been unable to do.

But the morning of the 7th of May brought word from Hongkong that sent a thrill of patriotic pride through all America.  Our Yankee tars had won the fight, and won it without the loss of a man.

Even those who witnessed the overwhelming victory could scarcely understand how the ships and the men of Admiral Dewey’s vessels came out of the battle unhurt and practically unmarked.

Soon after midnight on Sunday morning, May 1, the American fleet, led by the flagship Olympia, the largest vessel among them, passed unnoticed the batteries which were attempting to guard the wide entrance to the harbor.  Each vessel had orders to keep 400 yards behind the preceding one, and as there were nine vessels, including the two transports and colliers Nanshan and Zafiro, in the American fleet, the line was nearly a mile and three-quarters long, and at the rate of steaming it was perhaps three-quarters of an hour from the time the Olympia came within range of the shore batteries until the two transports were safely inside the harbor.

The Olympia, Baltimore, Kaleigh, Petrel and Concord passed in safety and the land batteries might never have suspected the presence of the fleet but for a peculiar accident on the McCulloch.  The soot in the funnel caught fire.  Flames spouted up from it, and the sparks fell all over the deck.  The batteries must have been awake and watching.  Five minutes later, or just at 11:50, signals were seen on the south shore, apparently on Limbones point.  The flying sparks from this boat made her the only target in the American line.  She continued to steam ahead, and at 12:15, May 1, just as she came between the fort at Eestingo and the batteries on the island of Corregidor she was fired upon by the fort at the south.

The Boston, just ahead, had her guns manned and ready, and she responded to the shore fire with great promptness, sending an eight-inch shell toward the curl of smoke seen rising from the battery.  This was the first shot fired by the Americans.  It was not possible to judge of its effect.  There was another flash on shore and a shell went singing past, only a few yards ahead of her bow.  If it had struck fairly it would have ripped up the unarmored cutter.  This was the McCulloch’s only chance to get into battle.  She slowed down and stopped and sent a six-pound shot at the shore battery and followed immediately with another.