The situation had become a question of days when the Spanish fleet should find itself exposed to the fire of the American forces ashore. While his ships, in spite of their condition, were yet able to offer fight, Admiral Cervera decided on making a desperate sortie, or attempt to escape. It was the forlornest of forlorn hopes at best, for he had nowhere to flee to with any hope of reaching a place of safety, and turn which way he would, the American ships, well cared for, within easy reach of their base, with almost unlimited supplies, and eager for battle, were waiting for him. The Admiral, in the _Cristobal Colon_, led the way seaward through the narrow entrance to Santiago Bay, and fled down the coast. The other ships followed as best they could. The Americans sought to ram the Spaniards, but could not do so because of the latter’s superior speed. The fleeing admiral’s ship did succeed in getting away for the time being. The other ships as they appeared were fiercely assailed by the American ships. The Spaniards fought with that gallantry and reckless bravery which have been a prized Spanish tradition for centuries, but their shooting was so indifferent that few of the American ships were hit, some were not touched at all, and only one Spanish shell got home effectively on an American ship. The Americans, on their part, fired to hit, and hit they did. The armour of the Spanish ships proved its value, and rang under the blows like anvils under the strokes of mighty hammers, and the ships shivered and heeled under the force of the impact.