On the 14th Farragut completed his preparations, and that night was selected as the time for the movement. His fleet consisted of four ships and three gunboats, besides the mortar schooners and their attendant gunboats. Each of the ships, except the Mississippi, was to have a gunboat lashed to its port side, so that if one were disabled its gunboat could tow it through or out of the fight. The Mississippi could not take a gunboat, because she was a side-wheeler. All the vessels were trimmed by the head, so that if one grounded it would strike bow first and would not be swung round by the current. And the elaborate precautions that had been taken below New Orleans were repeated. The order of the column was this:
The flagship Hartford, with the gunboat Albatross.The Richmond, with the gunboat Genesee.The Monongahela, with the gunboat Kineo.The Mississippi.
The "old spinning wheel" was still commanded by Captain Melancton Smith, with Lieutenant Dewey as his executive officer, as when she participated in the capture of New Orleans.
At Port Hudson there is a sharp bend in the river, and the deep channel runs close under the bluffs of the eastern bank, while the water shoals off to the low western shore. At dusk the signal was displayed for the fleet to form in line and follow the flagship. This was a red lantern hung out over the stern of the Hartford. The order was quietly and promptly obeyed. Like every officer in the fleet, Lieutenant George Dewey was at his post and eager for the adventure. His post now, as before, was on the bridge, to direct the course of the ship.
Every man on board was alert. The splinter nettings were on, and the carpenters were ready to stop shot holes or repair other damage. The marines had their muskets in hand to repel boarders. One officer was making sure that all was in shape for "fire quarters" if that order should be sounded, and another was looking to the rifled gun. The men at the great guns stood with their sleeves rolled up for instant work.
The darkness closed in rapidly, and the night was absolutely calm. The Hartford slowly steamed ahead, and the other ships took their places in the line.
But with all possible quietness of preparation the vigilant Confederates were not to be deceived or surprised. Hardly was the fleet under way when two rockets rose into the air from the right bank of the river, and then the first of the shore batteries discharged its guns. At the same time several great bonfires were lighted, and then everything on the river was in plain sight until the battle had gone on long enough to produce a great pall of cannon smoke. The other shore batteries opened in rapid succession, and the mortar schooners promptly began their work. The great thirteen-inch shells, with their burning fuses, rose in beautiful curves and passed overhead like meteors, to fall and explode within and around the fortifications. As the several ships came within reach of the enemy they opened fire, and in a little time the smoke was so thick that the gunners could only aim at the flashes. But they forged ahead steadily, doing their best under a terrific fire from the batteries on the bluff and the constant rifle practice of sharpshooters on the western bank. The Hartford and her gunboat got by, losing only one man killed and two wounded; but, though she had two of the most skillful pilots, she grounded directly under the enemy's guns, and for a little while was in danger of destruction. By skillful handling of the gunboat she was backed off, and then continued up stream beyond the range of fire. The Admiral now looked for his other vessels, and they were nowhere to be seen.
The Richmond, which had almost run into the Hartford when she grounded, had reached the last battery, and in a few minutes would have been beyond the reach of its guns, when a shot struck her steam pipe near the safety valves and disabled her. The gunboat was not able to take her farther against the strong current, and they were obliged to drop down stream out of the fight. They had lost three men killed and twelve wounded. A cannon shot took off the leg of the executive officer, and he died a few days later. An attempt was made to blow her up with a torpedo, but at the moment of explosion, though it shattered the cabin windows, it was not quite near enough to do serious damage.
The Monongahela grounded on the western shore near the bend of the river, and for half an hour was exposed to a merciless fire. The rudder of her gunboat had been rendered useless, and then a shot wrecked the bridge of the Monongahela, throwing Captain McKinstry to the deck and disabling him, and, passing on, killed three men. Though shots were constantly striking her, and had dismounted three of her guns, perfect coolness was maintained by the officers, with discipline on the part of the crew. The gunboat was shifted to the other side of the ship, and presently she was pulled off into deep water and resumed her course up stream, firing shells and shrapnel into the fortifications. She had almost passed the principal battery when the crank pin of her engine became heated, and she could go no farther. Then she also was obliged to run down with the current out of range. She had lost six men killed and twenty-one wounded.
While Farragut was anxiously looking down stream in hope to see the approach of his missing fleet, suddenly a great light shot up into the sky, and the man at the masthead reported that a ship was on fire.
The Mississippi, like the other vessels, had followed steadily after the flagship, feeling her way amid the smoke and rapidly firing her starboard guns, when she, like the other ships, grounded at the turn and "heeled over three streaks to port." The engine was at once reversed, the port guns were run in, and the pressure of steam was increased to the greatest amount that the boilers would bear, but all in vain—she could not move herself off and she had no gunboat to assist.
Meanwhile, three batteries had got her range, and under this terrible cross fire she was hulled at every discharge. Her starboard guns were still worked regularly and as rapidly as possible, to diminish the enemy's fire. Then in quick succession came the commands from Captain Smith:
"Spike the port battery and throw it overboard!"
"Spike the pivot gun and throw it overboard!"
"Bring up the sick and the wounded!"
The spiking was done by the hands of Lieutenant Dewey, Ensign Bachelder, and Assistant-Engineer Tower, but there was no time to throw the guns overboard.
Every man in the ship knew the meaning of these preparations for abandoning her.
Captain Smith was determined that, as he must lose his vessel, nothing should be left of it for the enemy. While he was lighting a cigar he said to Dewey:
"It is not likely that we shall escape, and we must make every preparation to insure the destruction of the ship."
The crew were ordered to throw the small arms overboard, and the engineers to destroy the engine. Then fire was set in the forward storeroom, but very soon three shots that penetrated the side below the line let in enough water to extinguish it. After that she was fired in four places. She had been struck by the enemy's shot two hundred and fifty times.
There were but three small boats, and these were used first to take away the sick and the wounded. At no time was the least confusion or disorder apparent among the crew; but when they saw how rapidly the old ship was approaching destruction, and how limited were the means of safety, some of them jumped overboard and swam for the shore, and these were fired at by sharpshooters on the bank. Dewey, noticing that one of them, a strong swimmer, suddenly became almost helpless, guessed that he had been struck by a bullet. As the lieutenant then had little to do but wait for the return of the boat, he plunged into the stream, struck out for the disabled sailor, and very soon was near enough to recognize him.
"Hello! is that you, Bill Ammon?" said Dewey.
"It is, sir," said Bill, not even in his agony forgetting the etiquette of shipboard.
"What has happened to you?"
"A musket ball in the shoulder, sir."
The lieutenant had now reached him, and with one arm sustained him while he swam slowly to a broken spar that fortunately was afloat at a little distance. Finding that his old schoolmate had strength enough to cling to this till he should be picked up (for the Essex had now come up to assist, and her boats were out), Dewey swam back to the ship.
When all had been taken off except the captain and the executive officer, who were standing on the quarter-deck, Captain Smith said:
"Are you sure she will burn to the water?"
"I will go down and make sure," Dewey answered; and down he went into the wardroom, at the risk of his life, and saw that everything was ablaze.
When he returned to the deck and reported, the captain was satisfied, and then the two officers left in the last boat and passed down to the Richmond under the fire of the batteries.
When the flames had sufficiently lightened the Mississippi she floated off, swung round into the current, and drifted down stream, bow foremost.
The port battery, which had been loaded but not fired, now went off, sending its shot toward the enemy, as if the old craft knew herself and wanted to do her duty to the last. At half past five o'clock in the morning the fire reached her magazine, and the terrific explosion that followed not only blew the vessel to fragments, but was heard and felt at a distance of several miles. She had lost sixty-four of her crew, some of whom were killed by shot, some drowned, and some made prisoners when they swam ashore.
THE CAPTURE OF FORT FISHER.
THE CAPTURE OF FORT FISHER.
The port of Wilmington, North Carolina, on Cape Fear River, about twenty miles from its mouth, was one of the most difficult to blockade, and when the other ports of the Southern States had been closed one after another, this became the Confederacy's main reliance for such supplies as had to be imported. Hence the desire of the national administration and military authorities to seal it up. This could be done only by capturing its defenses, and the principal of these was Fort Fisher, the strongest earthwork then in existence. This fortification, with its outworks, occupied the end of the narrow peninsula between Cape Fear River and the ocean. It mounted thirty-eight heavy guns; the parapets were twenty-five feet thick and twenty feet high; there were heavy traverses, bombproofed; ditches and palisades surrounded it; and outside of these were buried torpedoes connected with electric batteries in the casemates. The garrison consisted of about two thousand men.
In December, 1864, it was proposed to capture this work by a combined land and naval force. The troops sent for the purpose were commanded by General Butler. The fleet was the largest that ever had been gathered under the American flag, and was commanded by Rear-Admiral David D. Porter. It consisted of fifty-six wooden vessels and four ironclads. The Colorado, commanded by Captain Henry K. Thatcher, was one of the largest wooden ships; she was the one that could not be taken over the bar to participate in the attack on the forts below New Orleans. Her place in this battle was second ship in second division.
Lieutenant George Dewey, after his experience on the Mississippi, had served for a time in the James River flotilla under Commander McComb, and then was ordered to the Colorado, in which he participated in both attacks on Fort Fisher.
An accidental explosion of a boat load of powder, a short time before, which produced a concussion that shook down buildings, suggested the possibility of damaging the fort by similar means, and it was resolved to try the experiment. An old steamer filled with powder and disguised as a blockade runner was taken in close to the fort in the night of December 23d and exploded within three hundred yards of the beach. But no effect whatever was produced upon the fort or its equipment.
The next day two thirds of the fleet—the remainder being held in reserve—steamed slowly in, anchored in their appointed order, and began a bombardment, directing their fire principally at the guns of the fort. This was kept up all day, and there was such a play of bursting shells over and within the works as never had been seen before. Two magazines were exploded, and several buildings were burned. The fire was returned by the fort, and some vessels were injured by the shells, but no casualties resulted from it except by the explosion of a shell in the boiler of the Mackinaw. There were serious casualties in the fleet, however, from the bursting of hundred-pounder rifled guns. There were four of these accidents, by which fifteen men were killed and twenty-two wounded.
The next day, which was Christmas, the troops were landed from the transports, and the fleet renewed the bombardment in the expectation that the troops would be marched to the rear of the fort and storm it. But General Butler and General Weitzel made a reconnoissance, and agreed that the works could not be carried by assault. They therefore re-embarked the troops and steamed back to Fort Monroe. In the two days the fleet had fired fifteen thousand shells, and disabled nine guns in the fort.
This fiasco was a disappointment and mortification to the President and General Grant, who believed they had furnished a force to which they had a right to look for substantial results. They therefore resolved upon a second attempt, and this time the command of the troops was intrusted to General Alfred H. Terry. Porter's fleet renewed its supplies of coal and ammunition, and at the same time kept up a moderate fire on the fort to prevent repair of the works or erection of new ones.
Terry's transports arrived the first week in January, in the midst of a heavy storm. But the vessels rode it out safely, and then preparations were made for an early assault. On the 13th the fleet anchored as near the fort as the depth of water would permit, in the same order as before, and bombarded nearly all day while the troops were debarking. A curious incident occurred when they shelled the woods back of the fort; several hundred cattle there, intended for the garrison, were frightened by the bursting shells and rushed down to the beach, where Terry's men secured them.
Admiral Ammen, who commanded the Mohican in the first division, says: "As the sun went down and the shadows fell over the waters, the spectacle was truly grand; the smoke rose and partially drifted off, permitting glimpses now and then of the earthwork, and the fitful yet incessant gleams from the hundreds of shells bursting on or beyond the parapet illuminated, like lightning flashes, the clouds above and the smoke of battle beneath."
General Terry gave his troops a day to rest, get over the effects of the sea voyage, and throw up intrenchments across the peninsula two miles above the fort. The 15th was fixed upon for the grand assault, and the entire fleet had orders to move up and bombard at an early hour. Admiral Porter thought to assist the army further by detailing sixteen hundred sailors and four hundred marines to land on the beach and assail the sea face of the fort while the army stormed the land side. The sailors were armed with cutlasses and revolvers, and looked upon this new service as a sort of lark, but they found it a serious matter before the day was over. They came in several detachments, from different ships, and, never having been drilled together for any task of this kind, did not know how to work together. But, even if they had, it is doubtful if they could have accomplished anything; for, though they sprang to the assault nimbly enough, a large part of the garrison were called to that side of the work to repel them, and before they could get near enough to use their pistols their ranks were so thinned by grape shot and musketry that they were compelled to fall back and seek shelter. Three times they were rallied by their officers, and once they got within fifty yards of the parapet: but the murderous fire from a dense mass of soldiers behind it was too much for them. Four of their officers were killed and fifteen were wounded, while the number of sailors killed or wounded was about three hundred.
But though this assault by the sailors and marines was a failure in itself, it assisted the work of capture by calling a considerable part of the garrison to the sea face while the army assailed the rear of the fort. And the bombardment by the fleet was much more effective than in the first battle. Colonel Lamb, who commanded the fort, says: "In the former bombardment the fire of the fleet had been diffuse, but now it was concentrated and the definite object was the destruction of the land defenses by enfilade and direct fire. All day and night of the 13th and 14th the navy continued its ceaseless torment; it was impossible to repair damages at night on the land face. The Ironsides and the monitors bowled their eleven and fifteen-inch shells along the parapet, scattering shrapnel in the darkness. We could scarcely gather up and bury our dead without fresh casualties. At least two hundred had been killed and wounded in the two days since the fight began."
In those three days the fleet fired nearly twenty-two thousand shells. Terry's troops worked up to positions near the fort, and on the 15th, when the fleet gave the signal for assault by blowing the steam whistles, rushed to the work. In spite of all obstructions, they gained the parapet; but this was only the beginning of the task, for the work was provided with heavy traverses, and the defenders had to be driven from one to another of these, fighting obstinately all the way, until the last was reached and surrender could no longer be avoided. The assailants had lost about seven hundred men, killed or wounded. When Fort Fisher fell, the minor defenses at the mouth of the Cape Fear fell with it, and the port of Wilmington was closed. General Lee, then besieged at Petersburg by Grant, had sent word to its commander that Fort Fisher must be held or he could not subsist his army.
Thus the young officer on the Colorado, who was to become the Hero of Manila thirty-three years later, participating in this great conflict and the resulting victory, received one more lesson in the terrible art of war.
IN TIME OF PEACE.
IN TIME OF PEACE.
Commodore Thatcher, in his report of the attacks on Fort Fisher, paid the highest compliment to Lieutenant Dewey, and that officer, for his meritorious services in those actions, was promoted to the rank of Lieutenant Commander. The next year (1866) he was sent to the European station, on the Kearsarge, the famous ship that fought a duel with the Alabama one Sunday in June, 1864, off the harbor of Cherbourg, and sent her antagonist to the bottom.
Early in 1867 he was ordered to duty at the Portsmouth (New Hampshire) navy yard; and in that city he met Miss Susie Goodwin, daughter of Ichabod Goodwin, the "War Governor" of New Hampshire. In the autumn of that year Commander Dewey and Miss Goodwin were married.
After service in the Colorado, the flagship of the European squadron, he was detailed as an instructor at the Naval Academy, where he spent two years. In 1872 Mrs. Dewey died in Newport, and the same year he was made commander of the Narragansett and sent to the Pacific Coast Survey, on which he spent four years. Then he was lighthouse inspector and secretary of the Lighthouse Board till 1882, when he was assigned to the command of the Juniata in the Asiatic squadron. The fact that he spent two years there was probably one of the reasons that caused the administration to choose him for a much more important mission in those waters sixteen years later. In 1884 he received his commission as captain and was assigned to the command of the Dolphin. This was a new steel vessel, one of the four that formed the original "White Squadron," marking a significant turning-point in naval architecture.
The next year Captain Dewey was in command of the Pensacola, flagship of the European squadron; and in 1889 he was promoted to the rank of commodore and made chief of the Bureau of Equipment and Recruiting at Washington. In 1893 he became a member of the Lighthouse Board, and in 1896 President of the Board of Inspection and Survey.
Such is the record of an eminent naval officer in time of peace. But though the record is brief and makes a very simple story, the services that it represents were long and important. From the firing of the last gun in the civil war to the first in the war with Spain, a period of thirty-three years—the life of a generation—had elapsed. In that interval naval architecture, naval gunnery, and naval tactics underwent a greater change than any that they had seen since the days of Antony and Cleopatra. If George Dewey had stepped out of the naval service when the smoke rolled away after the battle of Fort Fisher, in 1865, he could not have been the man to win a victory that astonished the world in 1898. The maxim "In time of peace prepare for war" never was better observed than by the United States Government in its construction and treatment of the new navy in the eighties and the nineties; and it recognized the vital point when it secured the highest possible development of gun power by furnishing the man behind the gun with plenty of ammunition, however costly, for constant target practice, and established prizes for good shots. The idea of a modern torpedo boat darting at a great cruiser and with one charge of a high explosive sending her to the bottom is a terror, but the terror is transferred to the other deck when the torpedo boat finds herself met with a shower of balls, every one having great penetrating power and aimed with deadly precision. It is said that the credit for the system of target practice belongs primarily to Dewey's classmate and lifelong friend, Rear-Admiral Francis M. Bunce.
In those years of peace George Dewey gained many friends and admirers by his evident ability, his modest firmness of character, his kindly courtesy, and his wide range of interest. In one respect he resembles General Grant. A brother officer says of him: "I have known him fairly well for twenty years, and I have never heard him swear or brag."
THE BATTLE OF MANILA.
THE BATTLE OF MANILA.
Three centuries ago the power of Spain in the western hemisphere covered a larger area than the foreign possessions of any other country in Europe. And in the same year in which Cortes, by a romantic and amazing military exploit, brought her the kingdom of Mexico, Magellan discovered for her another rich empire in the Pacific, which she governed, robbed, and oppressed for three hundred and seventy-seven years, until she lost it—probably forever—one May morning, when an American fleet sailed into the bay of Manila and won a victory as complete and astonishing as that of Cortes. The greater part of the reasons why such a victory was possible are indicated in the foregoing pages, but the circumstances that gave occasion for it need explanation.
Spain's misrule in her colonies finally produced in most of them a chronic state of insurrection, and one after another they slipped from her grasp. Peru, Bolivia, Colombia, the Argentine, Mexico, Louisiana, Florida, and the greater part of the West Indies once were hers. She ceded Louisiana to France in 1800, and Florida to the United States in 1819, and two years later Mexico achieved her independence. She still had the rich islands of Cuba and Porto Rico in the West Indies, and the Philippine group in the East.
Though there have been revolutions and counter revolutions in Spain since the beginning of this century, the colonies have profited by none of them. Whether the home government was republic or monarchy, it was equally impressed with the idea that colonies were for plunder only. In 1848 the United States offered to buy Cuba for one hundred million dollars, but the offer was indignantly rejected with the remark that there was not gold enough in the world to buy that island from Spain. Of the many insurrections there, the most serious were that which lasted from 1868 to 1878, costing Spain a hundred thousand lives and Cuba nearly sixty thousand, and that which broke out in 1895. In the former of these, forty thousand prisoners who were captured by the Spanish troops were deliberately put to death; and in the latter such barbarous measures of repression were resorted to as subjected, not men alone, but women and children, to the most cruel suffering. Meanwhile, the United States Government was doing its utmost to enforce the laws of neutrality, and a part of its navy was kept busy watching the coasts and thwarting filibustering schemes, some of which were successful in spite of them.
The feelings of horror excited among the American people by the atrocities of the Spanish commander in Cuba began to demand that somehow or other an end be put to them; and every comment on the great powers of Europe for permitting the massacre of Armenians by the Turks, suggested a parallel criticism in regard to the United States and Cuba.
A similar insurrection was in progress in the Philippine Islands. That group is about two hundred miles from the coast of China. The largest of them, Luzon, is about as large as the State of Ohio, and the next, Mindanao, is almost as large; while the smallest are mere islets. There are nearly two thousand in all. The total area is estimated at one hundred and fourteen thousand square miles (about equal to the combined areas of New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Maryland), and the total population at seven million (about equal to that of the State of New York). Of this population more than half are on the island of Luzon. Here also is the capital city, Manila, with a population (including suburbs) of a quarter of a million.
Some of the original tribes remain in the islands, but the present inhabitants are largely Malay, with about ten thousand Spaniards and a good many Chinese. The principal exports were hemp, sugar, rice, coffee, cocoa, and tobacco. The annual revenue before the war was about fourteen million dollars.
The capital is in latitude fifteen degrees north, about the same as that of Porto Rico, and the southern point of Mindanao is within five degrees of the equator. The group has a length, north and south, of twelve hundred miles. The capital city contained a cathedral, a university, and a palace for the governor. It is on a beautiful land-locked harbor, twenty-six miles from the entrance. This entrance is twelve miles wide, but it is divided by two islands, giving one channel two miles wide and another five miles. The city is divided by the River Pasig, the old town being on the south side, and the new town on the north. The principal fortifications were at Cavité, on a promontory seven miles south of the city, but there were others on Corregidor Island, at the entrance.
In the autumn of 1897 Commodore Dewey's health was impaired—possibly from indoor service—and he was advised to apply for sea duty to restore it. Various accounts are given of his next assignment, not all of which can be true, but on the last day of November he was made commander of the Asiatic squadron, and a month later he hoisted his flag on the Olympia at Nagasaki, Japan.
The growing feeling in the United States of horror and indignation at the state of affairs in Cuba and the Philippines found free expression; this roused the resentment of the Spanish Government and people, and it became evident that not much was required to bring on a war between the two nations. An occurrence most deplorable—whether caused by accident or by design—in the harbor of Havana, in the night of February 14, 1898, brought on the crisis. This was the blowing up of the United States battle ship Maine by a submarine mine or torpedo. The vessel was completely wrecked, and two hundred and sixty-six lives were destroyed. She was riding at anchor, on the spot selected for her by the Spanish harbor authorities, and the greater part of the crew were asleep in their hammocks. Probably nine tenths of the American people believed that the ship had been blown up by treachery, but the moderation and forbearance of both people and Government, while they waited for the result of an official investigation, were remarkable. The Court of Inquiry was composed of experienced officers of high rank, who sat twenty-three days and employed divers and experts. Their unanimous verdict, delivered on March 21st, declared that "the ship was destroyed by the explosion of a submarine mine, which caused the partial explosion of two or more of her forward magazines, and no evidence has been obtainable fixing the responsibility for the destruction of the Maine upon any person or persons." If it was proved that the wreck was the work of a submarine mine, it was not difficult to guess where the responsibility lay. Congress boldly attributed the disaster to "the crime or the criminal negligence of the Spanish officials," and the people generally agreed with Congress on this point.
Several members of Congress, notably Senator Proctor, formerly Secretary of War, visited Cuba to see the condition of affairs for themselves; and their reports, with the sickening details, increased the determination of the American people to interfere in the cause of humanity.
On March 9th, at the President's request, Congress passed unanimously a bill appropriating fifty million dollars as an emergency fund to be used for the national defense.
In a special message, April 11th, the President recited the facts, and said: "The forcible intervention of the United States as a neutral to stop the war, according to the large dictates of humanity, and following many historical precedents where neighboring states have interfered to check the hopeless sacrifice of life by internecine conflicts beyond their borders, is justifiable on rational grounds." Eight days later Congress passed a joint resolution declaring war. This date, April 19th, was the anniversary of the first bloodshed in the American Revolution (1775), and also of the first in the civil war (1861). Measures for increasing both the army and the navy had been taken already.
The United States naval squadron at Hong Kong included most of our force in the Pacific and was well supplied; and the cruiser Baltimore, with a large quantity of stores and ammunition, was added. It now consisted of four protected cruisers—the Olympia, the Baltimore, the Boston, and the Raleigh—from 3,000 to 5,870 tons each, and the gunboats Concord and Petrel. It carried in all one hundred and thirty-three guns. Its commander, George Dewey, was of the same age as Farragut at the beginning of the civil war—sixty.
The Commodore had received provisional orders, instructing him, in case of war with Spain, to capture or destroy the Spanish fleet in the Pacific and take possession of the Philippine Islands; and he was now promptly notified that he might carry them out. The British authorities at Hong Kong gave notice that the fleet must leave that port at once, in accordance with the laws of neutrality, and on April 27th Dewey sailed for the Chinese port in Mirs Bay, and there completed his preparations. One day later, having given the American consul time to get away from Manila, he sailed for Subig Bay, thirty miles north of that city, expecting to find the Spanish fleet there; but it had just gone to Manila Bay, where it could have the protection of shore batteries.
This fleet was commanded by Admiral Montojo. Its fighting vessels were seven cruisers—the Reina Maria Cristina, the Castilla, the Velasco, the Don Antonio de Ulloa, the Don Juan de Austria, the Isla de Cuba, and the Isla de Luzon—the gunboats El Cano and General Lezo, and four torpedo boats. The size of the cruisers was from 1,030 to 3,520 tons, and the whole number of guns carried was one hundred and thirteen.
Some of the Spanish officials cherished certain delusions that appear to have originated with the Spanish newspapers. One was, that if the United States Government engaged in a foreign war the Southern States would again secede. Another was, that the United States navy was without discipline and without competent officers, and that the crews were the mere riffraff of all nations, attracted thither by the liberal pay. The Governor-General of the Philippines issued a boastful proclamation in which he set forth these ideas, and added (more truthfully, perhaps, than he suspected), "The struggle will be short and decisive."
Whether justly or not, there were suspicions of the genuineness of the neutrality to be observed by other powers, and an incident at Hong Kong showed that Commodore Dewey was not to be trifled with in the discharge of his duty. The German Emperor's brother, Prince Henry, called on Dewey in the flagship, and said in the course of the conversation, "I will send my ships to Manila, to see that you behave." "I shall be delighted to have your Highness do so," Dewey answered, "but permit me to caution you to keep your ships from between my guns and the enemy."
The American fleet followed the Spanish fleet to Manila Bay without loss of time, and early Sunday morning, May 1st, the Spaniards were astonished to see their enemy sailing in through the south channel. When half the squadron had passed in, one of the land batteries opened fire, but without effect. The ships continued at slow speed across the great bay, looking for their antagonists, and found them in a smaller bay—known as Baker Bay—anchored in line across its entrance, their left and right protected by batteries on the inclosing peninsula and on the mainland. Two mines were exploded ahead of the American flagship as it advanced, but produced no damage. When the fleets were nearly parallel with each other, the distance being two thousand to five thousand yards, the Commodore said to the captain of the Olympia: "You may fire when you are ready, Gridley," and at once the battle began. Then was seen the advantage of training and target practice to the men behind the guns. The American fire was remarkable for its precision, and almost every shot told, while the Spanish fire, though vigorous, was ineffective. The Spanish flagship attempted to leave the line and go out to engage the Olympia at close range, but at once the entire battery of the Olympia was concentrated on her, and she retreated to her former place.
Following the example set by Du Pont at Hilton Head in 1861, the fleet steamed steadily by and returned in a long ellipse, firing the starboard broadsides as they went up, and the port broadsides as they came back. This was repeated five times. The land batteries near the city, as well as those on Cavité point, opened fire on the fleet, but the Americans did not reply to them, their first business being with the Spanish vessels. Dewey sent word to the Governor-General that unless the city batteries ceased the city would be shelled, and this had the desired effect. The terrific assault crippled the Spanish vessels, set two of them on fire, and killed a great many men; but the Spanish sailors were not so deficient in courage as in skill, and they stood by their guns manfully.
Admiral Montojo says in his report: "The enemy shortened the distance between us, and, rectifying his aim, covered us with a rain of rapid-fire projectiles. At half past seven one shell completely destroyed the steering-gear. I ordered to steer by hand while the rudder was out of action. In the meanwhile another shell exploded on the poop and put nine men out of action. Another carried away the mizzen masthead, bringing down the flag and my ensign, which were replaced immediately. A fresh shell exploded in the officers' cabin, covering the hospital with blood and destroying the wounded who were being treated there. Another exploded in the ammunition room astern, filling the quarters with smoke and preventing the working of the hand steering-gear. As it was impossible to control the fire, I had to flood the magazine when the cartridges were beginning to explode. Amidships several shells of smaller caliber went through the smokestack, and one of the large ones penetrated the fire room, putting out of action one master gunner and twelve men serving the guns. Another rendered useless the starboard bow gun. While the fire astern increased, fire was started forward by another shell which went through the hull and exploded on the deck. The broadside guns, being undamaged, continued firing until only one gunner and one seaman remained unhurt for working them, as the guns' crews had been frequently called upon to substitute those charged with steering, all of whom were out of action. The ship being out of control, ... I gave the order to sink and abandon her before the magazines should explode."
All this was on the flagship, and the other Spanish vessels had been used only a little less roughly when the American fleet drew off to rest the men and have breakfast. How much the rest and refreshment were needed can be realized only by those who themselves have been at work in "the iron dens and caves" while the battle was raging overhead. A stoker on the Olympia, giving an account of his experiences during the fight, said: "The battle hatches were all battened down, and we were shut in this little hole, the ventilating pipes being the only things left open. The temperature was nearly up to two hundred degrees, and it was so hot our hair was singed. There were several leaks in the steam pipes, and the hissing steam made things worse. The clatter of the engines and the roar of the furnaces made such a din it seemed one's head would burst. When a man could stand it no longer he would put his head under the air pipe for a moment. We could tell when our guns opened fire by the way the ship shook. Once in a while one of the apprentice boys would come to our ventilating pipe and shout down to tell us what was going on."
Soon after eleven o'clock the American fleet returned to the attack, and at this time the Spaniard's flagship and most of his other vessels were in flames. At half past twelve the firing ceased, for the task was substantially completed; one after another the hostile ships had been sunk or driven ashore and burned, and the Americans had also poured such a fire into the batteries at Cavité as compelled their surrender. Dewey's fleet then anchored near the city, leaving the gunboat Petrel to complete the destruction of the smaller Spanish boats that remained, which was done.
Thus in about four hours of fighting the American had annihilated the Spanish power in the Pacific and won a new empire. Admiral Montojo reported his losses as three hundred and eighty-one men killed or wounded. In the American fleet seven men were slightly wounded, but none were killed. Some of the ships were struck by the Spanish shot, but not one was seriously injured.
A pretty anecdote is told of Dewey after the battle. When the order had been given to strip for action a powder boy lost his coat overboard. He asked permission to go for it, but was refused. He went to the other side of the ship, went over, and recovered his coat, and was then placed under arrest for disobedience; and after the battle he was tried and found guilty. When the sentence was submitted to the Commodore he was curious to know why any one should risk his life for a coat, and asked the boy. The little fellow, after some hesitation, told him it was because his mother's picture was in the pocket. The tears came to Dewey's eyes as he gave orders for his release, saying, "A boy that loves his mother enough to risk his life for her picture can not be kept in irons on this fleet."
While no American had any doubt of the result of a war with Spain, the whole world was astonished at a battle that had completely destroyed one fleet without serious damage to the other. It was evident that a people who had produced John Paul Jones, Hull, Porter, Stewart, Bainbridge, Perry, Decatur, Farragut, Worden, and Winslow had not yet lost the power of producing worthy successors to those naval heroes.
If one wishes to muse on the historic achievements of sea power, it is not necessary to visit Copenhagen or the Nile, or sit on the shore of Trafalgar Bay; the Mississippi and Manila Bay will answer quite as well. The United States navy has often been criticised at home and sneered at abroad; but it is notable that in every war in which it has engaged it has surpassed all expectations; and there is no reason to suppose it will not continue to do so as long as the nation endures.
AFTER THE BATTLE.
AFTER THE BATTLE.
The first reports of the victory in Manila Bay were received with amazement and with considerable incredulity. Among Americans there was little doubt—perhaps none at all—as to the result of the war; but they did not think to get through it without considerable losses, and they expected the heaviest ones to fall on the navy. The reason for this was in the new and untried character of naval architecture and armament. From the sailing vessels that fought the famous battles of 1812 to the steamers with which Farragut passed the batteries on the Mississippi the change was not so great and radical as from these to the fleet commanded by Dewey. The cruiser of to-day, with its massive sides of metal, its heavy rifled guns with improved projectiles, its rapid fire, its electric lights and signals, its search-lights and range-finders, and other apparatus contributing to celerity and accuracy of work, is more dangerous and destructive, so long as it remains intact, than anything that Hull or Bainbridge, Du Pont or Farragut, ever saw. But it is a complicated machine, and nobody knew what it would do if seriously crippled, the probability being that it would go to the bottom and leave not a floating plank to which any poor sailor could cling. At the same time a great deal of money and ingenuity had been spent in building torpedo boats—more by European governments than by ours—and it was apprehended that these at sea would be like the proverbial snake in the grass on land—able to dart quickly and inflict a mortal wound on greater and nobler creations than themselves. And then came the construction of the still swifter craft known as torpedo-boat destroyers, with appalling stories of their deadly nature. And with all these complex forces afloat there was a very natural dread of seeing them tried in actual battle, for it was feared that even the victor could not attain his victory without fearful disaster.