Read Ebook: Young Peoples' History of the War with Spain by Holmes Prescott

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Then the guns of the ships sent an iron storm among the rocks and trees and the soft sands. They drove the Spaniards to shelter, and then they knocked the cable-house, the fort and the light-house to bits. It was not intended at first to destroy the light-house, but when it was discovered that the Spaniards used it for a shelter while firing upon the Americans, the gunners were ordered to cut it down, and in a short time nothing remained of it but a heap of ruins.

The personal bravery of the men in the boats was wonderful. Although untried in warfare, they conducted themselves like veterans in the hour of trial. Cable cutting is one of the new features of modern warfare, but that made no difference to the brave jackies and marines that volunteered for the work. One of their number was killed and several were wounded, but officers and men performed their work with the utmost coolness and bravery.

Before we leave the subject of cutting an enemy's cables, and thus destroying one of their best means of communication, I will tell you of another exploit. The St. Louis, which was one of the big ocean steamships that the Government hired during the war, was the vessel that performed it. A few days after the cables were cut at Cienfuegos, the St. Louis was ordered to Santiago to cut the cables at that point. One very dark night the boats left the big ship and began to grapple for the cables. About three o'clock in the morning they returned with a long piece which they had cut out of one of the cables. About eight o'clock the St. Louis went to work to find the other cable, and after working for three hours, the batteries on shore opened fire on her. They kept up a furious fire for three-quarters of an hour, but the St. Louis replied so vigorously that the batteries were silenced and the garrisons sent running in all directions. Then they found the cable, hauled it on board and cut it. Afterwards the St. Louis cut another cable at San Juan, the capital of Porto Rico.

Do you wonder why these three ports were thought to be the best for the Spanish fleet to enter? You know that Havana is the capital of Cuba; most of the citizens were Spaniards; thousands of Spanish soldiers were there; all the chief officers also. So it was thought that the Spanish Navy would try to unite with the Spanish Army. From Matanzas and from Cienfuegos the troops from the Spanish ships could go easily by railroad to Havana, through a part of the country still in the hands of the Spaniards. I may have told you more than you care to hear about the coming of the enemy's fleet, but I want to give you an idea of the great anxiety felt by our Government at this time, and to help you to understand what follows. You must remember that we had not vessels enough to blockade every port, so we blockaded the ports that seemed most dangerous.

Where was the Spanish fleet all this time, while our Navy was so troubled? If you look at a map of Cuba you will find that the eastern end of the island--the eastern province--is called Santiago de Cuba. The chief city of the province is on the southern coast, and bears the same name. The city of Santiago is next in importance to Havana, and is said to be the oldest city in the Western Hemisphere.

Santiago is a picturesque city, five miles from the coast. It was founded by Don Diego de Velasquez, who named it for the patron saint of Spain. Santiago, San Diego and St. Jago are really one name, which is translated St. James in our language. The city is built along a sloping hillside, and its massive buildings are tinted pink, blue, green and purple. There are plenty of red-tiled roofs, among which rise towers, steeples and palms. The houses are low and built around courtyards, where flowers and palms grow in profusion. The floors are of brick or marble. There is a plaza, or central square, and a great cathedral. The streets are narrow and dirty, and in the quarters where the poorer class live, babies and pigs roll together in the gutters, and boys and girls without a rag of clothing on them hold out their hands for alms.

The first impression of Santiago is one of filth and poverty, dilapidated buildings and general decay; but if you climb the hills that encircle the city and look over the red-topped buildings to the glistening bay, the prospect is lovely.

As you approach the mouth of the harbor from the coast, you can at first see nothing but a break in the hills; but soon you discover, perhaps, the most picturesque fort in the western hemisphere. It is the Morro Castle, one hundred years older than its namesake at Havana, perched on a rock at the entrance to the channel. This channel is very narrow, but it winds and twists about until it opens into a broad, land-locked bay--the famous harbor of Santiago--with houses running down to the water's edge.

Into this beautiful harbor, while our ships were watching other ports and looking in other directions, Admiral Cervera and his fine Spanish ships quietly sailed at daybreak on the 19th of May. It was a strange port for the Spaniards to seek, and it was a fatal one.

While Sampson was looking in one direction for Admiral Cervera's ships, Commodore Schley, with another squadron, was close upon their track. For awhile he thought they were in Cienfuegos, but when he found they were not there, he kept on up the coast. His flagship was the splendid cruiser Brooklyn, and among his ships were the Massachusetts, the Texas and the Iowa--all immense battleships. He also had a number of smaller vessels, and the swift St. Paul, another of the famous ships hired by the Government. The St. Paul was commanded by Captain Sigsbee, who, you will remember, was in command of the Maine when she was blown up in Havana harbor.

At last Commodore Schley became satisfied that the long-looked-for fleet was in the harbor of Santiago. On the morning of May 29, Captain Sigsbee, in the St. Paul, ran close enough to the mouth of the harbor to see some of the Spanish ships inside, and the long game of hide-and-seek was over. Commodore Schley at once established a strict blockade, and then sent word to Admiral Sampson that the Spanish ships had been found and that he had them safe. He very shrewdly said:

"We have bottled them up, and they will never get home!" A few days later, the two squadrons were consolidated, with Commodore Schley the second in command.

I want to tell you a little about Commodore Schley--one of the finest officers of the navy. He graduated from the Naval Academy at Annapolis, at the head of his class, and from that time entered upon a career in which he served his country in nearly every quarter of the globe. When the Civil War broke out, he staid by the old flag when many of his brother officers went with the Confederacy, and during the war performed many gallant and meritorious services. He had seen all kinds of naval service, and was at home among conditions that required dash and courage, zeal and persistency, before he was given the command of the "Flying Squadron," and sent to find the Spanish ships.

He had done such things as to rescue seven men who were starving to death in the Arctic regions. He had been sent by the Government to do this, and, realizing that it must be done quickly, he pushed on so fast that he found the seven men alive. If he had been slower in his movements they would have been dead, for they were in the last stages of starvation and exhaustion. At another time, some of his sailors were stoned in the city of Valparaiso, and one of them was killed. Schley trained his guns upon the city and kept them there until the murderers were given up to justice. He was the right kind of a man to have around the coasts of Cuba, wasn't he?

Now I am going to tell you the names of the Spanish vessels, and give you an idea of the blockade.

Within the harbor were four large Spanish ships and two new, fast torpedo-boat destroyers, all commanded by Admiral Cervera. The ships were the Infanta Maria Teresa, named for a Spanish princess; the Vizcaya, named for a province in Spain; the Crist?bol Col?n, which is the Spanish name for Christopher Columbus; and the Almirante Oquendo. Many years ago Spain had a famous admiral whose name was Oquendo, and in recognition of his services the Spanish Government made a law that there should always be a ship in their navy bearing his name. That is how they had the Almirante Oquendo, which means Admiral Oquendo. The names of the torpedo-boat destroyers were the Furor and the Pluton. All these warships were splendid vessels, and were commanded by brave men. We shall hear about them later.

Our ships were outside the harbor--a few miles from its mouth, in a line like a half-circle. Our big ships were the New York, the Brooklyn, the Texas, the Iowa, the Oregon, the Indiana, and the Massachusetts. There were a number of smaller vessels, and one of them, the Gloucester, afterwards gained great fame. Our ships could not anchor, as the water was too deep, so they were always moving back and forth.

As I have told you, between the sea and the harbor, or bay, is a long, narrow channel with high cliffs on each side, and on these cliffs are forts, which guard the entrance to the harbor.

Our men could not see the Spanish ships in the harbor, but could see only the narrow channel and the hills and forts above it. Our men watched carefully, to see that no Spanish ship came out. For the first few nights of the blockade a bright moon lighted up the channel, but after the moon failed, the place was wonderfully lighted by the great "search-lights" of our ships. Four battleships took turns of two hours each in standing at the entrance of the channel and moving the "searchlights." The ships were always headed toward the shore, and steam was kept up.

And so our great gray vessels, grim monsters of the sea, waited and watched near the harbor of Santiago de Cuba.

Blockading work is very hard upon officers and men. It requires ceaseless vigilance at all hours of the day and night. Besides preventing an enemy's ships from coming out of a blockaded port, it is very important to prevent vessels with supplies from running in. During the Cuban blockade our vessels captured at least one large ship loaded with coal that was intended for Admiral Cervera's fleet. When nations are at war, they do not allow other nations to supply their enemies with anything that will help them. There are international laws about this, and if a warship belonging to a nation which is at war with another, puts into a neutral port for coal or provisions, it is only allowed to buy enough to last it to its nearest home port. It is not allowed to remain in a neutral port more than twenty-four hours, either.

The purpose of a blockade is to cut off supplies and stop all communication with the enemy by sea. When this is done, merchant vessels of all nations are therefore forbidden to pass or even to approach the line, and the penalty for disobedience is the confiscation of both ship and cargo, whether the latter is contraband or not. If a ship does not stop when hailed, she may be fired upon, and if she is sunk while endeavoring to escape, it is her own fault. Blockade running is perilous business, and is usually attempted under cover of night, or in stormy weather, and it is as full of excitement and adventure as war itself. The motive is usually either to take advantage of famine prices, or to aid the enemy by bringing supplies or carrying despatches. Neutral ships are entitled to some sort of warning that a blockade exists, and in the case of Cuba, the United States notified neutral Governments, announcing the fact, and stating exactly the extent of coast covered.

Before we were at war with Spain, the Government restrained and punished those who organized expeditions to help the Cubans. We were obliged to do this because we were a neutral nation. But after our war with Spain began, we sent all kinds of war material to the Cubans, so as to help them to fight Spain. I will tell you about one of these expeditions.

About the middle of May, the steamer Florida sailed from a port in the State for which she was named, with supplies for the Cuban army. In addition to a great quantity of provisions, clothing, shoes and medicines, she carried several thousand rifles and an immense amount of ammunition. Down in the hold were a hundred horses and mules, and among the passengers were several hundred recruits for the Cuban army.

The Florida reached the Cuban coast in safety, and was met at the appointed place by more than a thousand Cubans. It required three days and one night to unload the cargo. Small boats conveyed the stores to the eager hands that hurried them inland. The mules and horses swam ashore. Women and children flocked to the scene, bringing fruit and vegetables to exchange for coffee and meat--the first they had tasted for a long time.

When the cargo was all ashore, the Florida prepared to return to the United States. Then the Cuban soldiers ranged themselves along the shore; women and children grouped behind the ranks, and a Cuban marching song burst from happy hearts as the Florida steamed away.

A great deal of blockading duty was done by the small vessels of the fleets, the torpedo-boats and the armed tugboats. Many strange encounters took place during those nights when these little craft rolled about in the Caribbean swells, or moved along in hostile waters without a light visible on board.

The tug-boat Leyden had one of these. With her two or three small guns she held up a big ship one night, firing across her bow, and demanding, "What ship is that?" It was the same vessel that had the encounter with the Nashville, the story of which I have told you; and so the answer came back:

"This is Her Majesty's ship, Talbot."

The idea of a tug-boat like the Leyden halting a warship in this fashion was not particularly pleasing to the British Captain. Neither was he better pleased when some one on the tug-boat called out, "Good night, Talbot!" But he took it as a new experience, and solemnly replied:

"You may go, Leyden."

The spirit that animated the officers of our navy in these trying times was well expressed by Lieutenant Fremont, who commanded the torpedo-boat Porter. Fremont was the son of John C. Fremont, whom you may possibly remember as a noted explorer and pioneer in the western part of the United States, and a general during the Civil War; and he possessed the bravery and daring of his father. Some one said to him:

"Those Spanish destroyers have heavier batteries than yours. What would you do if you ran across one of them out here?"

"Well," replied Fremont, "it's my business to keep them from getting in among the fleet. I'd try to do it. I'd engage a destroyer, and if I found his battery was too heavy for me I'd close in. If a chance offered, I'd torpedo him. If not--well, this boat has made twenty-six knots. I'd go at him full speed. I think the Porter would go half way through him before we stopped."

"And then?"

"And then, I think, there would be a swimming match. It saves time to have your mind made up in advance in such matters."

THE BATTLE OF MANILA BAY.

The greatest event of the war between the United States and Spain took place in a strange part of the world, far from both of those countries. If you look on a map of Asia, you will find a large group of islands in the Pacific Ocean, east of the China Sea. They are called the Philippine Islands. The largest of them is called Luzon, and its chief city is Manila, on a large bay of the same name.

Have you ever heard any one speak of the Filipinos? They are natives of the islands, descendants of the Spanish settlers; besides these there are the native savage tribes, still living in many places. The Filipinos had often tried to gain their independence, but had not been successful. When they heard of the rebellion in Cuba, they thought they would make another attempt against Spain, and so began a new rebellion. And this is just how matters stood when the war began between the United States and Spain.

The United States, having some ships in one of the ports of China, sent word to their commander, Commodore Dewey, to turn his attention to the Philippine Islands. So Commodore Dewey prepared his fleet in the best way possible and started for Manila. The ships sailed Wednesday afternoon, April 27th.

You must not think that Commodore Dewey had big battleships in his fleet. He had only what we call "cruisers," not big battleships. The ship on which the commander of a whole fleet sails is always the "flagship." Then, of course, each ship has its own captain and other officers. Would you like to know the names of the ships that won such fame in Manila Bay? The "flagship" was the Olympia; then there were five other cruisers: the Baltimore, the Boston, the Raleigh, the Concord, the Petrel; and a small vessel called the Hugh McCulloch. There were also two steamers carrying coal and provisions. All the fleet had been newly painted gray, to match our other vessels in this war.

During the voyage, the men were very busy getting ready for a battle, for they knew that the Spaniards had ships in Manila Bay, and that they would fire upon the new comers. Everything made of wood that might be shot and splintered, was thrown overboard; for flying splinters are very dangerous on shipboard. Tables, benches, chests, and rails were thrown into the sea. The men were told what to do in time of battle, and how to help the wounded, and the doctors arranged the rooms to be used as hospitals, so that every thing would be handy.

We have seen that the fleet sailed Wednesday afternoon, and the next Saturday morning land was sighted--the island of Luzon. On, on, the ships sped, and that evening they reached the entrance to Manila Bay. Then they stole along in the darkness, with their lights covered, so that the Spaniards might not see them. Our men were doing a daring deed. They were entering a strange bay, by night, where not one of them had ever been before; they did not know the soundings, they had no harbor pilot. The entrance to the bay was guarded by fortresses containing big Krupp guns, and there was good reason to think that there were "mines" in the water, which might blow the ships to pieces. Still, every man was ready to do his duty.

Some of the forts did discover our ships, and fired a few shots; but no harm was done, and our ships steamed on. At daybreak they drew near the city of Manila. The Spaniards were expecting them, having had notice of their approach. The Spanish ships, under Admiral Montojo, were waiting at a place called Cavit?, seven miles from Manila. They were protected by batteries on the shore. Having steady guns on the shore should have been a great help to the Spaniards, as it is easier to fire a steady gun than to fire a gun on a ship that is riding up and down on the waves.

The battle began a little after five o'clock, Sunday morning, May 1st, 1898. The Spaniards fired the first shot. All the vessels of our fleet were out in the bay, but, as soon as the Spaniards began to fire, our fighting ships started forward. They did not answer the Spanish fire at first, but steamed up the bay, in a wide circle, toward the city of Manila, then turned and came back toward Cavit?. The Olympia led the way. After her came the Baltimore, Raleigh, Concord, Petrel, and Boston. All had their battle-flags flying.

Uninjured by the enemy's shots, the Olympia and her train drew near the Spanish forts and ships. At a distance of a little more than four thousand yards, the Olympia fired, and the roar of her first gun was the signal to her companions to open fire. Then the firing from both sides became fast and furious. Our ships moved rapidly about, up and down, past Cavit? five times. Admiral Montojo came out in his flagship, the Reina Christina, to attack the Olympia. The Olympia poured such a storm of shot at her that she was compelled to turn back toward the harbor. But the Reina Christina had met her doom. As she turned, a huge shell from the Olympia struck her, set her on fire, and killed her captain and many of her men. Admiral Montojo changed his flag to another ship and came forward again, but soon had to turn back. But a moment of great peril came to the Olympia. Two fierce little torpedo-boats came toward her, ready to hurl her to destruction. The gunners of the Olympia instantly opened such a shower of shells from the smaller guns that the surface of the water was covered with foam. The little boats, without having had time to send forth a torpedo, were overcome. One of them blew up, then sank, with her crew, beneath the waves. The other, pierced with shots, turned toward the shore and ran upon the beach, a wreck.

After more than two hours of fierce fighting, Commodore Dewey led his ships out into the center of the bay, and the battle ceased for a time. The true reason for this movement was known only to some of the officers. The men were told that they were to haul off to get a little rest and some breakfast. The men believed that they had done great damage to the Spaniards, and were eager to finish the battle at once. In fact, no one really knew then how much damage had been done to the Spanish fleet. The results were not known till afterward. Though the men were hopeful and in good spirits, Commodore Dewey and his staff thought the situation serious. Three of the Spanish ships were on fire, and the Boston had also broken out in flames. The Olympia had not enough ammunition to continue the fight two hours longer. Our ships were far from home, and could not get a supply of ammunition in less than a month's time. There was good reason to think that the Spanish forts were well supplied.

The Spaniards thought, when our ships drew away from the shore, that the Americans had been overcome and were leaving in order to bury their dead. They found themselves sadly mistaken.

Our men, strengthened by the rest and a breakfast of bread and cold meat, started again to battle a little before eleven o'clock. Soon several of the Spanish ships were on fire, and some of them sank. After the Spanish fleet had been destroyed, some of our ships attacked the forts on the shore and made them surrender. At five minutes after one o'clock the Spaniards hauled down their flag.

The Spaniards did many brave things that day, and fought desperately, but they were not good marksmen. They did not aim their guns well. They lost eleven ships, and had many men killed and wounded. Our ships were not much injured, only seven of our men were wounded, and none were killed.

When our ships drew together after the battle, and our men found that they had suffered so little, and that no one had been killed, they knew not how to control their feelings. Some of them cried like little children. But such tears are not childish. It is said that when the Spanish forts gave the signal of surrender, Commodore Dewey turned to his officers near him, and said: "I've the prettiest lot of men that ever stepped on shipboard, and their hearts are as stout as the ships."

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