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.

[Illustration:  Morro Castle, Santiago.]

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.