Almost at the same moment the same startling signal broke out from a masthead of the _Texas_, which opened the battle with the mighty roar of a twelve-inch shell. The _Brooklyn_ was also flying signal 250--"The enemy is escaping"--and within three minutes from the discovery of that moving smoke behind the Morro her forward eight-inch battery was in full play against the _Maria Teresa_, first of the Spaniards to show her glistening hull around the point. Dashing at full speed from the harbor-mouth, outlined by the smokeless flames of her forward turret and port batteries, Admiral Cervera's flag-ship was quickly headed to the westward, and for the most open point of the blockade. Behind her steamed the _Vizcaya_, _Colon_, _Oquendo_, and the torpedo-boats _Furor_ and _Pluton_. During the whole long blockade, the one standing order given by Admiral Sampson to cover an emergency like the present had been, "Should the enemy come out, close in and engage." Now the ships that he had left on guard did close in with what speed they could command, while their sweating stokers toiled like demons in the hideous heat of the fire-rooms to produce still greater heat and more steam. As the on-rushing Spaniards cleared the harbor's mouth, every American ship was moving towards them and delivering a fire so incredibly terrific and of such deadly accuracy that its like was never known in the whole history of naval warfare. At the outset the little _Gloucester_, commanded by Lieutenant-Commander Richard Wainwright, who had been navigating officer of the _Maine_ at the time of her destruction, made a dash for her legitimate opponents, the two torpedo-boats. They in turn sought shelter behind the _Oquendo_, and for a minute it looked as though the yacht were about to attack the big cruiser. Then the _Texas_ began to pay particular attention to the _Oquendo_; and, seemingly content to leave her in such good hands, the Gloucester again started after the destroyers. Suddenly a great shell from the _Indiana_, hurled over the yacht, struck one of them fairly amidships, and, with a roar heard high above the din of firing, the unfortunate boat plunged to the bottom, carrying with her all on board. The _Gloucester_ now directed her energies against the remaining destroyer, running well within range of the shore batteries to get at her, and within ten minutes had so riddled her with a storm of small projectiles that she lowered her colors, turned in towards the beach, struck on a reef, and in another moment was being helplessly pounded to pieces by the surf. At the same time small boats from the plucky yacht that had placed her in this sad plight were busily engaged in rescuing such of her crew as could be reached.