The Boys of '98

“In view of the measures so taken, and other measures as may be necessary to enable me to carry out the express will of the Congress of the United States in the premises, I now recommend to your honourable body the adoption of a joint resolution declaring that a state of war exists between the United States of America and the kingdom of Spain, and I urge speedy action thereon to the end that the definition of the international status of the United States as a belligerent power may be made known, and the assertion of all its rights and the maintenance of all its duties in the conduct of a public war may be assured.

(Signed) “William McKinley.“Executive Mansion, Washington, April 25, 1898.”

The war bill was passed without delay, and immediately after it had been signed the following notice was sent to the representatives of the foreign nations:

“A joint resolution of Congress, approved April 20th, directed intervention for the pacification and independence of the island of Cuba. The Spanish government on April 21st informed our minister at Madrid that it considered this resolution equivalent to a declaration of war, and that it had accordingly withdrawn its minister from Washington and terminated all diplomatic relations.

“Congress has therefore, by an act approved to-day, declared that a state of war exists between the two countries since and including April 21st.

“You will inform the government to which you are accredited, so that its neutrality may be assured in the existing war.”

Before the close of the day John Sherman, Secretary of State, had resigned; Assistant Secretary William R. Day was appointed the head of the department, with John B. Moore as his successor.

The United States squadron sailed from Hongkong, under orders to rendezvous at Mirs Bay, and public attention was turned towards Manila, it being believed that there the first action would take place.

During the evening the tiny steamer Mangrove, a lighthouse tender, captured the richest prize of the war thus far, when she hove to the Panama, a big transatlantic liner, and an auxiliary cruiser of the Spanish navy, which had been plying between New York and Havana.

The Mangrove, Lieut. – Commander William H. Everett commanding, was cruising along the Cuban coast about twenty miles from Havana when she sighted the big steamer, which was armed with two 12-pounders. As the latter came within range the Mangrove sent a shot across her bow; but the Spaniard gave no heed; another missile followed without result, and the third whistled in the air when the two vessels were hardly more than a hundred yards apart, Commander Everett shouting, as the report of the gun died away, that unless the steamer surrendered she would be sunk forthwith.

The only other ship of the fleet in sight was the battle-ship Indiana, three miles to the rear. The Mangrove’s officers admit that they expected the enemy’s 12-pounders to open on them in response to the threat, but the Spaniard promptly came to. Ensign Dayton boarded the prize.

The Indiana had seen the capture, and meanwhile drew up to the Mangrove, giving her a lusty cheer. Lieutenant-Commander Everett reported to Captain Taylor of the battle-ship, and the latter put a prize-crew on board the captive, consisting of Cadet Falconer and fifteen marines.

April 26. The President issued a proclamation respecting the rights of Spanish vessels then in, or bound to, ports in the United States, and also with regard to the right of search.

The United States gunboat Newport carried into Key West the Spanish schooner Piereno and the sloop Paquette, which she captured off Havana, while the monitor Terror took to the same port the coasting steamer Ambrosia Bolivar. This last prize had on board silver specie to the amount of seventy thousand dollars, three hundred casks of wine, and a cargo of bananas.

April 27. The steamers New York, Puritan, and Cincinnati bombarded the forts at the mouth of Matanzas Harbour. The engagement commenced at 12.57, and ceased at 1.15 P. M. The object of the attack was to prevent the completion of the earthworks at Punta Gorda.

A battery on the eastward arm of the bay opened fire on the flag-ship, and this was also shelled. Twelve 8-inch shells were fired from the eastern forts, but all fell short. About five or six light shells were fired from the half completed batteries. Two of these whizzed over the New York, and one fell short.

The ships left the bay for the open sea, the object of discovering the whereabouts of the batteries having been accomplished. In the neighbourhood of three hundred shots were put on land from the three ships at a range of from four thousand to seven thousand yards. No casualties on the American side.

The little monitor Terror captured her third prize, and the story of the chase is thus told by an eye-witness:

“The Spanish steamer Guido, Captain Armarechia, was bound for Havana. There was Spanish urgency that she should reach that port. Aboard was a large cargo, provisions for the beleaguered city, money for the Spanish troops – or officers. The steamer had left Liverpool on April 2d, and Corunna on April 9th.

“Ten miles off Cardenas, in the early morning, the Guido, setting her fastest pace, made for Havana and the guardian guns of Morro. Ten miles off Cardenas plodded the heavy monitor. The half light betrayed the fugitive, and the pursuit was begun.

“Slowly, very slowly, the monitor gained. It would be a long chase. Men in the engine-room toiled like galley-slaves under the whip. There was prize-money to be gained. The Guido fled fast. Every light aboard her was hid.

“Reluctantly the pursuer aimed a 6-pounder. It was prize aim, and the shot found more than a billet in the Guido’s pilot-house. It tore a part away; the splinters flew.

“Another 6-pounder, and another. It was profitable shooting. The pilot-house, a fair mark, was piece by piece nearly destroyed. Jagged bits of wood floated in the steamer’s wake.

“The gunboat Machias, which was some distance away, heard the sound of the firing, came up, and brought her 4-inch rifle into play, firing one shot, which failed to hit the Spaniard. This, however, brought her to, and Lieutenant Qualto and a prize-crew were put on board.”

A cablegram from Hongkong announced the capture of the American bark Saranac off Manila, by the Spanish gunboat El Correo.

By a conference of both branches of Congress a naval bill of $49,277,558 was agreed upon. It stands as the heaviest naval outlay since the civil war, providing for the construction of three battle-ships, four monitors, sixteen torpedo-boat destroyers, and twelve torpedo-boats.

The U. S. S. Newport captured the Spanish sloop Engracia, and the U. S. S. Dolphin made a prize of the Spanish schooner Lola.

April 29. The flag-ship New York was lying about two miles off the harbour of Cabanas, having just completed a cruise of inspection. With her were the torpedo-boats Porter and Ericsson. On the shore could be seen the white ruins of what may have been the dwelling of a plantation. No signs of life were visible. It was as if war’s alarms had never been heard on this portion of the island.

Suddenly a volley of musketry rang out, repeated again and again, at regular intervals, and the tiny jets of water which were sent up by the bullets told that, concealed near about the ruins of the hacienda, a troop of Spanish soldiers were making what possibly they may have believed to be an attack upon the big war-ship. It was much as if a swarm of gnats had set about endeavouring to worry an elephant, and likely to have as little effect; yet Rear-Admiral Sampson believed it was necessary to teach the enemy that any playing at war, however harmless, was dangerous to themselves, and he ordered that the port battery be manned.

Half a dozen shots from the 4-inch guns were considered sufficient, although there was no evidence any execution had been done, and the big vessel’s bow was turned eastward just as a troop of Spanish cavalry rode rapidly away from the ruin. The horsemen served as a target for a 4-inch gun in the starboard battery, and the troop dispersed in hot haste.

While this mimic warfare was being carried on off Cabanas, a most important capture was made. The Nashville, Marblehead, and the Eagle left the station on the north coast, April 25th, to blockade Cienfuegos, arriving at the latter place on the twenty-eighth.

They spent the day reconnoitring, and, next morning, in order to get better information, steamed close to the mouth of the harbour of Cienfuegos. The Eagle was to the eastward, and in the van. The Marblehead was slightly in the rear, and the Nashville to the westward.

All were cleared for action. Suddenly smoke was seen rising on the western horizon, and the Nashville, because of her position, put on all steam in that direction. Twenty minutes later she fired two shots across the bow of the coming steamer, which promptly hove to. She was the Argonauta. Ensign Keunzli was sent with a prize-crew of nine to take possession of her.

Learning that Spanish soldiers were on board, word was given to send them to the Nashville immediately as prisoners of war, and when this had been done arrangements were made to transfer the passengers and non-combatants to the shore. The women and children were placed in the first boat, and under cover of a flag of truce were soon bound toward the entrance to Cienfuegos. A second crew took the other passengers and landed them about noon.

The Argonauta had on board Colonel Corijo of the Third Spanish Cavalry, his first lieutenant, sergeant-major, seven other lieutenants, and ten privates and non-commissioned officers. The steamer also carried a large cargo of arms and Mauser ammunition. She was bound from Satabanao, Spain, for Cienfuegos, stopping at Port Louis, Trinidad, and Manzanillo.

Half an hour later the Eagle hoisted a signal conveying the intelligence that she had been fired upon by Spanish boats coming out of the river. She immediately returned the fire with the 6-pounders, and held her ground until the Marblehead came up. Both vessels then fired broadside after broadside up the entrance to the river.

The boats coming down were two torpedo-boats and one torpedo-boat destroyer. After twenty minutes of firing by the Eagle, during the last five of which the Marblehead participated, the Spanish vessels ceased firing.

April 29. A cablegram from St. Vincent, Cape Verde, reported the departure from that port of the Spanish squadron, consisting of the first-class cruisers Vizcaya, Almirante Oquendo, Infanta Maria Teresa, and Cristobal Colon, and the three torpedo-boat destroyers Furor, Terror, and Pluton, bound westward, probably for Porto Rico.

April 30. The American schooner Ann Louisa Lockwood was taken by the Spaniards off Mole St. Nicolas.

The capture of a small Spanish schooner, the Mascota, near Havana, by the torpedo-boat Foote, closed the record of the month of April.

Anxiously awaiting some word from Manila were the people of the United States, and it was as if everything else was relegated to the background until information could be had regarding that American fleet which sailed from Mirs Bay, in the China Sea, on the afternoon of April 27th.

CHAPTER IV.

THE BATTLE OF MANILA BAY

May 1. “Manila, May 1. – The squadron arrived at Manila at daybreak this morning. Immediately engaged the enemy, and destroyed the following Spanish vessels: Isla de Cuba, Isla de Luzon, Reina Christina, Castilla, Don Antonio d’Ulloa, Don Juan d’Austria, Velasco, General Lezo, El Correo, Marques del Duero, Isla de Mindanao, and the water-battery at Cavite. The squadron is uninjured. Few men were slightly injured. The only means of telegraphing is to American consulate, Hongkong. I shall communicate with him.

“Dewey.”

All the world loves a hero, but idolises him when he performs his deeds of valour without too many preliminaries, and, therefore, when on the seventh of May the telegram quoted above was flashed over the wires to an anxiously expectant people, it was as if all the country remembered but one name, – that of Dewey.

April 25. It was known to the public that the Asiatic Squadron had sailed from Hongkong on the 25th of April to avoid possible complications such as might arise in a neutral port, and had rendezvoused in Mirs Bay, there to await orders from the government at Washington.

April 26. So also was it known that on the next day Commodore Dewey received the following cablegram.

“Washington, April 26th.

“Dewey, Asiatic Squadron: – Commence operations at once, particularly against Spanish fleet. You must capture or destroy them.

“Mckinley.”

April 27. On the twenty-seventh came information from Hongkong that the squadron had put to sea, and from that day until the seventh of May no word regarding the commodore’s movements had been received, save through Spanish sources.

Then came a cablegram containing the bare facts concerning the most complete naval victory the world had ever known. It was the first engagement of the war, and a crushing defeat for the enemy. It is not strange that the people, literally overwhelmed with joy, gave little heed to the movements of our forces elsewhere until the details of this marvellous fight could be sent under the oceans and across the countries, thousands of leagues in distance, describing the deeds of the heroes who had made their names famous so long as history shall exist.

During such time of waiting all were eager to familiarise themselves with the theatre of this scene of action, and every source of information was applied to until the bay of Manila had become as well known as the nearest home waters.

For a better understanding of the battle a rough diagram of the bay, from the entrance as far as the city of Manila, may not come amiss.

Twenty-six miles from the entrance to the bay is situated the city of Manila, through which the river Pasig runs, dividing what is known as the old city from the new, and forming several small islands.

Sixteen miles from the sea is the town and arsenal of Cavite, which, projecting as it does from the mainland, forms a most commodious and safe harbour. Cavite was well fortified, and directly opposite its fort, on the mainland, was a heavy mortar battery. Between the arsenal and the city was a Krupp battery, at what was known as the Luneta Fort, while further toward the sea, extending from Cavite to the outermost portion of Limbones Point, were shore-batteries, – formidable forts, so it had been given out by the Spanish government, such as would render the city of Manila impregnable.

Between Limbones and Talago Point are two islands, Corregidor and Caballo, which divide the entrance of the bay into three channels. On each of these islands is a lighthouse, and it was said that both were strongly fortified with modern guns. North of Corregidor, nearly opposite, but on the inner shore, is the point of San José, where was another water-battery mounting formidable guns. That channel between Corregidor and San José Point is known as the Boca Grande, and is nearly two miles wide. The middle channel, or the one situated between the two islands, is shallow, and but little used. The third, which separates Caballo Island from Limbones Point, is nearly three miles in width, at least twenty fathoms deep, and known as the Boca Chica.

All of these channels, as well as the waters of the bay, were said to have been thickly mined, and the enemy had caused it to be reported that no ship could safely enter without the aid of a government pilot.

In addition to the vessels of the American fleet, as set down at the conclusion of this chapter, were two transports, the steamers Nanshan and Zafiro, which had come into the port of Hongkong laden with coal shortly before Commodore Dewey’s departure, and had been purchased by him, together with their cargoes, in anticipation of the declaration of war.

And now, the details having been set down in order that what follows may be the better understood, we will come to that sultry Sunday morning, shortly after midnight, when the American fleet steamed along the coast toward the entrance to Manila Bay, the flag-ship Olympia leading, with the Baltimore, the Raleigh, the Petrel, the Concord, and the Boston following in the order named. In the rear of these came the two transports, the Nanshan and Zafiro, convoyed by the despatch steamer McCulloch.

The commodore had decided to enter by the Boca Grande channel, and the fleet kept well out from Talago Point until the great light of Corregidor came into view.

Then the crews of the war-vessels were summoned on deck, the men ordered to wash, and afterwards served with a cup of coffee. All lights were extinguished except one on the stern of each ship, and that was hooded. All hands were at quarters; all guns loaded, with extra charges ready at hand; every eye was strained, and every ear on the alert to catch the slightest sound.

Perhaps there was not a man from commodore to seaman, who believed it would be possible for the war-vessels to enter the bay without giving an alarm, and yet the big ships continued on and were nearly past Corregidor Island before a gun was fired.

The flag-ship was well into the bay, steaming at a four-knot speed, when from the smoke-stack of the little McCulloch a column of sparks shot up high into the air. In the run her fires had fallen low, and it became necessary to replenish them. The firemen, perhaps fearing lest they should not be in at the death, were more energetic than prudent, and thus a signal was given to the sleepy garrison of Corregidor.

“Perhaps they will see us now,” the commodore remarked, quietly, as his attention was called to this indiscretion.

A flash of light burst from the fort; there was a dull report, and in the air could be heard that peculiar singing and sighing of a flying projectile as a heavy missile passed over the Olympia and the Raleigh.

The garrison on Corregidor was awakened, but not until after the last vessel in that ominous procession had steamed past.

It was the first gun in the battle of Manila Bay, and it neither worked harm nor caused alarm.

Again and again in rapid succession came these flashes of light, dull reports, and sinister hummings in the air, before the American fleet gave heed that this signal to heave to had been heard.

Then a 4-inch shell was sent from the Concord directly inside of the fortification, where it exploded.

The Raleigh and the Boston each threw a shell by way of salute, and then all was silent.

The channel, which had been thickly mined, according to the Spanish reports, was passed in safety, and the fleet, looking so unsubstantial in the darkness, had yet to meet the mines in the bay, as well as the Spanish fleet, which all knew was lying somewhere near about the city.

On the forward bridge of the Olympia stood Commodore Dewey, his chief of staff, Commander Lamberton, Lieutenant Rees, Lieutenant Calkins, and an insurgent Filippino, who had volunteered as pilot.

In the conning-tower was Captain Gridley, who, much against his will, was forced to take up his position in that partially sheltered place because the commander of the fleet was not willing to take the chances that all the chief officers of the ship should be exposed to death on the bridge.

The word was given to “slow down,” and the speed of the big ships decreased until they had barely steerageway.

The men were allowed to sleep beside their guns.

The moon had set, the darkness and the silence was almost profound, until suddenly day broke, as it does in the tropics, like unto a flash of light, and all that bay, with its fighting-machines in readiness for the first signal, was disclosed to view.

From the masthead of the American vessels rose tiny balls of bunting, and then were broken out, disclosing the broad folds of the stars and stripes.

Cavite was hardly more than five miles ahead, and beyond, the city of Manila.

The Reina Christina, flying the Spanish rear-admiral’s flag, lay off the arsenal. Astern of her was moored the Castilla, her port battery ready for action. Slightly to seaward were the Don Juan de Austria, the Don Antonio de Ulloa, the Isla de Cuba and Isla de Luzon, the El Correo, the Marques del Duero, and the General Lezo.

They were under steam and slowly moving about, apparently ready to receive the fire of the advancing squadron. The flag-ship Reina Christina also was under way.

“Prepare for general action! Steam at eight-knot speed!” were the signals which floated from the Olympia as she led the fleet in, keeping well toward the shore opposite the city.

The American fleet was yet five miles distant, when from the arsenal came a flame and report; but the missile was not to be seen. Another shot from Cavite, and then was strung aloft on the Olympia a line of tiny flags, telling by the code what was to be the American battle-cry: “Remember the Maine,” and from the throat of every man on the incoming ships went up a shout of defiance and exultation that the moment was near at hand when the dastardly deed done in the harbour of Havana might be avenged.

Steaming steadily onward were the huge vessels, dropping astern and beyond range the transports as they passed opposite Cavite Point, until, having gained such a distance above the city as permitted of an evolution, the fleet swung swiftly around until it held a course parallel with the westernmost shore, and distant from it mayhap six thousand yards.

Every nerve was strained to its utmost tension; each man took a mental grip upon himself, believing that he stood face to face with death; but no cheek paled; no hand trembled save it might have been from excitement.

The ships were coming down on their fighting course when a shell from one of the shore-batteries burst over the Olympia; the guns from the fort and from the water-batteries vomited jets of flame and screaming missiles with thunderous reports; every man on the American fleet save one believed the moment had come when they should act their part in the battle which had been begun by the enemy; but up went the signal:

“Hold your fire until close in.”

Had the American fleet opened fire then, the city of Manila would have been laid in ashes and thousands of non-combatants slain.

The Olympia was yet two miles from Cavite when, directly in front of the Baltimore, a huge shaft of water shot high into the air, and with a heavy booming that drowned the reports of the Spanish guns.

“The torpedoes!” some one on the Olympia said, in a low tone, with an indrawing of the breath; but it was as if Dewey did not hear. With Farragut in Mobile Bay he had seen the effects of such engines of destruction, and, like Farragut, he gave little heed to that which might in a single instant send his vessel to the bottom, even as the Maine had been sent.

Then, so near the Raleigh as to send a flood across her decks, another spouting of water, another dull roar, and the much vaunted mines of the Spaniards in Manila Bay had been exploded.

The roar and crackle of the enemy’s guns still continued, yet Dewey withheld the order which every man was now most eager to hear.

The Spanish gunners were getting the range; the shells which had passed over our fleet now fell close about them; the tension among officers and men was terrible. They wondered how much longer the commodore would restrain them from firing. The heat was rapidly becoming intense. The guns’ crews began to throw off their clothes. Soon they wore nothing but their trousers, and perspiration fairly ran from their bodies.