In the afternoon the Morgan cut a path of white foam down the channel, and her lead was followed by the Vigilance, San Marcos, Clinton, Yucatan, Stillwater, Berkshire, Olivette, Santiago, Arkansas, Seneca, Saratoga, Miami, Leona, Breakwater and Comal. By the time these vessels had moved away darkness had enveloped the remaining ships, from whose sides glimmered long rows of lights. The Knickerbocker, numbered thirteen, and the Orizaba had much to take on during the night. The last to load were eager to complete the task for fear they might be left. By daylight all the ships except the Seguranca had moved down the bay. At 9 o’clock the Seguranca, amid cheers and the blowing of whistles, followed.
General Shatter and his staff were the last to leave. The last orders were handed to Lieutenant Miley, an aid to General Shafter, and immediately the flagship started.
Sampson again shells Santiago.
Rear-Admiral Sampson’s fleet bombarded the batteries at Santiago de Cuba for the third time at daylight on the morning of June 16.
For hours the ships pounded the batteries at the right and left of the entrance, only sparing El Morro, where Lieutenant Hobson and his companions of the Merrimac were in prison.
As a preliminary to the hammering given the batteries the dynamite cruiser Vesuvius at midnight was given another chance. Three 250- pound charges of gun cotton were sent over the fortifications at the entrance. The design was to drop them in the bay around the angle back of the eminence on which El Morro is situated, where it was known that the Spanish torpedo-boat destroyers were lying. Two charges went true, as no reports were heard—a peculiarity of the explosion of gun cotton in water. The third charge exploded with terrific violence on Cayo Smith.
From where the fleet lay the entrance to the harbor looked, in the black night, like a door opening into the livid fire of a Titanic furnace. A crater big enough to hold a church was blown out of the side of the Cayo Smith and was clearly seen from the ships.
Coffee was served to the men at 3:30 in the morning, and with the first blush of dawn the men were called quietly to quarters. The ship steamed in five-knot speed to a 3,000-yard range, when they closed up, broadside on, until a distance of three cable-lengths separated them. They were strung out in the form of a crescent, the heavy fighting ships in the center, the flagship on the right flank and the Massachusetts on the left flank. The line remained stationary throughout the bombardment. The Vixen and Scorpion took up positions on opposite flanks, close in shore, for the purpose of enfilading any infantry that might fire upon the ships.
When the ships got into position it was still too dark for any firing. The Admiral signaled the ships not to fire until the muzzles of the enemy’s guns in the embrasures could be seen by the gun captains.


