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When, on the 22d day of April, 1898, Michael Mallia, gun-captain of the United States cruiser Nashville, sent a shell across the bows of the Spanish ship Buena Ventura, he gave the signal shot that ushered in a war for liberty for the slaves of Spain.
The world has never seen a contest like it. Nations have fought for territory and for gold, but they have not fought for the happiness of others. Nations have resisted the encroachments of barbarism, but until the nineteenth century they have not fought to uproot barbarism and cast it out of its established place. Nations have fought to preserve the integrity of their own empire, but they have not fought a foreign foe to set others free. Men have gone on crusades to fight for holy tombs and symbols, but armies have not been put in motion to overthrow vicious political systems and regenerate iniquitous governments for other peoples.
For more than four centuries Spain has held the island of Cuba as her chattel, and there she has revelled in corruption, and wantoned in luxury wrung from slaves with the cruel hand of unchecked power. She has been the unjust and merciless court of last resort. From her malignant verdict there has been no possible appeal, no power to which her victims could turn for help.
But the end has come at last. The woe, the grief, the humiliation, the agony, the despair that Spain has heaped upon the helpless, and multiplied in the world until the world is sickened with it, will be piled in one avalanche on her own head.
Liberty has grown slowly. Civilization has been on the defensive. Now liberty fights for liberty, and civilization takes the aggressive in the holiest war the world has even known.
Never was there a war before in which so many stimulating deeds of bravery were done in such a short time, and this in spite of the fact that the public has been restless for more action. It is almost worth a war to have inscribed such a deed of cool, intelligent heroism as that of Hobson and his men with the Merrimac, in the entrance to the harbor of Santiago de Cuba. That is an event in world history, one never to be forgotten, and in the countries of Europe quite as generously recognized as by our own people. There is a word to say for the Spanish admiral. In his chivalry after that act of heroism, Cervera proved himself a worthy adversary, who could realize and admire bravery in a foe, even when it had been directed against himself with such signal success. Not every commander would be great enough in that circumstance to send a flag of truce to the opposing admiral, in order to inform him that his brave men were safe and that they were honored as brave men by their captors.
Of another sort was the bravery of Dewey at Manila, more notable in its results but in no other way surpassing that of Hobson and his men. Dewey went forward in spite of unknown dangers of torpedoes, to engage an enemy in the place it had selected as most favorable for Spanish arms, an enemy with more ships, more men, more guns than had the American. A day later the nation was at the feet of Dewey and the United States had taken a position among the powers of the world never before admitted by them. In larger degree than ever before, from that moment the United States became a factor in the international history of the world. At this writing one cannot tell what will be the end of the relations of the United States to the Philippines and the Orient, but the solution cannot fail to be of profit to this nation. This was a holy war for the liberty of Cuba, but like many another good deed it is bringing its additional rewards. Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Philippines and the Caroline islands are to be liberated, four colonies of Spain instead of one, and the direct and indirect profit, looked at from a purely commercial basis, will be far more than enough to compensate the United States for the cost of the war. The annexation of the Hawaiian islands as a war measure must be credited to the same cause, for the success of that effort under any other circumstances was problematical.
Yet another sort of bravery was that in the harbor of Cardenas when the little torpedo boat Winslow lay a helpless hulk under the rain of fire from the shore batteries, without rudder or engine to serve, and the Hudson, a mere tugboat with a few little guns on deck, stood by for forty minutes to pass a hawser and tow the disabled vessel out of range. Both were riddled, the Winslow had half her total complement of men killed and wounded by a single shell, but there was no faltering, and they all worked away as coolly as if nothing were happening.
If one started to catalogue the instances of personal bravery that the war brought out in its first few months, the list would be a cumbersome one. It is enough here to say that there have been a hundred times when personal courage was needed to be shown, and never a moment’s hesitancy on the part of any man to whom the call came. Furthermore, in every case in which a particularly hazardous undertaking was contemplated, and volunteers were called for, the number offering has been in every instance far more than was needed. This was eminently notable on the occasion of Hobson’s sinking of the Merrimac, when more than a thousand in the fleet volunteered for a service requiring but six, and from which it seemed impossible that any could come out alive.
The public must know all about the war, and the only avenue of information is the press. Never before has any war been covered as to its news features with the accuracy and energy which have characterized this. American journalism has outstripped the world. The expense of a news service for this war is something enormous, with little return compensation. Yet the work is done, metropolitan papers have from ten to twenty correspondents in the field, and the public has the benefit. Dispatch boats follow the fleets and are present at every battle. They must be near enough to see, which means that they are in as much danger at times as are the ships of the fighting squadron, far more if one remembers that the former are in no way protected. Some of them are heavy sea-going tugs and others are yachts. The expense of charter, insurance and running cost amounts to from $200 to $400 a day each, and yet some metropolitan newspapers have fleets of these boats to the number of six.
All the foregoing facts are related in detail in the volume which these paragraphs introduce. The only object in reiterating them here is that they are entitled to emphasis for their prominence, and it is desired to call special attention to them and their accompanying matter when the book itself shall be read. The number of those who believe we are engaged in a righteous war is overwhelming. The records of the brave deeds of our men afloat and ashore will inspire Americans to be better citizens as long as time shall last. The country has proven its faith in the cause by giving to the needs of war hundreds of thousands of young men to fight for the liberty of others. From every corner of the land regiments of volunteer soldiers have sprung in an instant at the call of the President, while as many more are waiting for another call to include those for whom there was not room the first time. The country which can show such an inspiring movement has little to fear in the race of progress among the nations of the world.
A war for liberty and humanity.
Again at War with a Foreign Power—Spain’s
Significant Flag—
Three Years Without an American Flag in Cuban Waters—Visit
of the
Maine to Havana Harbor—The Maine Blown
Up by Submerged Mine—
Action of President and Congress—Spain
Defies America—Martial
Spirit Spreading—First Guns Are Fired—Cuban
Ports Blockaded—
Many Spanish Ships Captured—Excitement
in Havana—Spain and the
United States Both Declare War—Internal
Dissension Threatens
Spain—President McKinley Calls a Volunteer
Army.
Civilization against barbarism, freedom against oppression, education against ignorance, progress against retrogression, the West against the East, the United States against Spain. In this cause the flag of freedom was again unfurled in the face of a foreign foe, and our nation entered war against the people of another land, carrying the star spangled banner through successive victories in the name of liberty and humanity.
It is a proud banner, which stands the whole world over for freedom and right, with few stains of defeat or injustice upon its folds. The great heart of the nation swelled with pride at the righteousness of the cause, with an assurance that eternal history would praise America for the unselfish work. On land and sea the boys in blue gave new fame to the flag, and their proud record in the past was more than justified by the honors that they won.
Two wars with Great Britain and one with Mexico were the more notable predecessors of this conflict with Spain. If to these should be added the hostilities between the United States and the Barbary pirates of Algiers, Morocco and Tripoli, and the scattered brushes with two or three Oriental and South American countries, the list might be extended. But those affairs are not remembered as wars in the true sense of the word.
Except for protection against Indian outbreaks, the United States had been at peace for thirty years, when the war cloud began to loom in the horizon. It was with a full realization of the blessings of peace that the American people yielded to the demands, of humanity and righteous justice, to take up arms again in the cause of liberty. There was no haste, no lack of caution, no excited plunge into hostilities without proper grounds. The nation made sure that it was right. An intolerable condition of affairs resulting from years of agony in a neighbor island, with half a dozen immediate reasons, any one sufficient, was the absolute justification for this holy war.
Spain is the Turk of the West. Spain is an obsolete nation. Living in the past, and lacking cause for pride to-day, she gloats over her glorious explorations and her intellectual prowess of the middle ages when much of Europe was in darkness. Then Spain’s flag led pioneers throughout the world. But her pride was based on achievements, many of which, to the people of any other nation, would have been the disgrace of its history. No indictment of Spain can ever be more severe, more scathing, if its true significance be considered, than the famous phrase which one of her proudest poets created to characterize her flag of red and yellow.
“Sangre y oro,” he said, “blood and gold—a stream of gold between two rivers of blood.”
It is almost a sufficient characterization to indicate the whole national spirit of Spain, to recall that this phrase is the proud expression used by the Spanish people to glorify their own flag. That sentiment is in no stronger contrast to the American phrase, “the star-spangled banner,” than are the people of Spain to the people of the United States.
“Remember the Maine.”
From the day of the outbreak of the Cuban revolution, early in 1895, until nearly the end of January, 1898, there had been no flag of the United States seen in any harbor of Cuba except upon merchant vessels. Always before, it had been the policy of our government to have ships of war make friendly calls in the harbors of all countries of the world at frequent intervals, and Cuban waters had shared these courtesies.
So careful were the officers of the Cleveland administration to avoid the appearance of offense or threat against the authority of Spain, with which we were living in amity, that immediately upon the outbreak of hostilities in Cuba this practice was suspended, so far as it applied to that island. Our ships cruised through the oceans of the world and called at all ports where they were not needed, but the waters of Havana harbor for three years were never disturbed by an American keel.
Out of deference to the expressed wishes of the local Spanish authorities in Havana, Dr. Burgess, the splendid surgeon of the United States Marine Hospital service in Havana, who for thirty years has guarded our southern ports from the epidemics of yellow fever and smallpox, which would invade us annually as a result of Spanish misgovernment in Cuba, except for his watchfulness, ceased flying the American flag on his steam launch, by means of which he carried out his official duties in those foul waters. The American flag was a disturbing influence upon the minds of the Cubans who might see it flashing in the clear sunlight of the tropic sky, suggested the Captain General.
It must have been the language of diplomacy that was in mind, when the satirist explained that “language was intended as a medium for concealing thought.” President McKinley, in his message to Congress transmitting the report of the naval board concerning the catastrophe to the Maine, explained that for some time prior to the visit of the battle-ship to Havana harbor, it had been considered a proper change in the policy, in order to accustom the people to the presence of our flag as a symbol of good will. The decision to send the vessel to that harbor was reached, it was explained, after conference with the Spanish minister, and, through our diplomats, with the Spanish authorities at Madrid and Havana. It was declared that this intention was received by the Spanish government with high appreciation of the courtesy intended, which it was offered to return by sending Spanish ships to the principal ports of the United States.
We are bound to accept this expression from the officials on both sides as frankly indicative of their feelings. But it is just as necessary to recognize that to the mass of the people in both countries, the significance of the Maine’s courtesy call was very different. Americans believed that it indicated a changed policy on the part of the national government at Washington which would be more strenuous and more prompt in resenting outrages against the life and property of American citizens in Cuba. The people of the Cuban republic believed that the change meant an expression of sympathy and friendship for their cause, with probable interference in their behalf, and took courage from that sign. Finally, the people of Spain resented the appearance of the Maine in the harbor of Havana as an affront, and a direct threat against them and in favor of the insurgents. If the policy of making frequent calls in warships had never been interrupted, they would not have had this sentiment in the matter, but the resumption of the practice after three years’ cessation, carried a threat with it in their minds.
Treacherous destruction of the Maine.
The Maine entered the harbor of Havana at sunrise on the 25th of January and was anchored at a place indicated by the harbor-master. Her arrival was marked with no special incident, except the exchange of customary salutes and ceremonial visits. Three weeks from that night, at forty minutes past nine o’clock in the evening of the 15th of February, the Maine was destroyed by an explosion, by which the entire forward part of the ship was wrecked. In this frightful catastrophe 264 of her crew and two officers perished, those who were not killed outright by the explosion being penned between decks by the tangle of wreckage and drowned by the immediate sinking of her hull.
In spite of the fact that the American public was urged to suspend judgment as to the causes of this disaster, and that the Spanish authorities in Havana and in Madrid expressed grief and sympathy, it, was impossible to subdue a general belief that in some way Spanish treachery was responsible for the calamity. With the history of Spanish cruelty in Cuba before them, and the memory of Spanish barbarities through all their existence as a nation, the people could mot disabuse their minds of this suspicion.
One month later this popular judgment was verified by the finding of the naval court of inquiry which had made an exhaustive examination of the wreck, and had taken testimony from every available source. With this confirmation and the aroused sentiment of the country concerning conditions in Cuba, the logic of events was irresistibly drawing the country toward war with Spain, and all efforts of diplomacy and expressions of polite regard exchanged between the governments of the two nations were unable to avert it.
For a few weeks, history was made rapidly. Conservative and eminent American senators visited Cuba in order to obtain personal information of conditions there, and upon their return, gave to Congress and to the country, in eloquent speeches, the story of the sufferings they had found in that unhappy island. The loss of the Maine had focused American attention upon the Cuban situation as it had never been before, and though there were no more reasons for sympathetic interference than there had been for many months, people began to realize as they had not before, the horrors that were being enacted at their thresholds.
The sailors who died with the Maine, even though they were not able to fight their country’s foes, have not died in vain, for it is their death that will be remembered as the culminating influence for American intervention and the salvation of scores of thousands of lives of starving Cuban women and children. Vessels were loaded with supplies of provisions and clothing for the suffering and were sent to the harbors of Cuba, where distribution was made by Miss Clara Barton and her trusted associates in the American National Red Cross. Some of these vessels were merchant steamers, but others were American cruisers, and Cubans were not permitted to forget that there was a flag which typified liberty, not far away. The strain upon the national patience increased every day, and was nearing the breaking point.
President and Congress act.
After a period of restlessness in Congress which was shared by the whole country, the President finally transmitted an important message. It included a resume of the progress of the Cuban revolution from its beginning and considered in some detail the workings of that devastating policy of General Weyler, known as reconcentration. The message related the progress of diplomatic negotiations with Spain, and disclosed a surprising succession of events in which the Spanish government had submitted to various requests and recommendations of the American government. The message ended with a request that Congress authorize and empower the President to take measures to secure a full and final termination of the intolerable conditions on the island of Cuba. Having exhausted the powers of the executive in these efforts, it was left to the legislative authority of the American people to establish such policies as would be finally efficient.
Congress rose to the occasion. The facts were at command of both houses, their sympathies were enlisted at the side of their reason and there was little time lost in acting. The House and the Senate, after mutual concessions on minor details, passed as a law of the land for the President’s signature, an act directing him and empowering him to require Spain to withdraw her troops and relinquish all authority over the island of Cuba. The President was authorized to employ the army and navy of the United States for the purpose of carrying into effect this instruction and the interference was directed to be made at once. Best of all, from the point of view of the Cuban patriots, the act declared that the people of Cuba are and ought to be free and independent. But a few days more of diplomacy, and war was to begin.
Spain defies America.
It was hardly to be expected that the Spanish government and the Spanish people would yield to the demands of the United States without a protest. So feeble is the hold of the present dynasty upon the throne of Spain, that it was readily understood that any concession upon the part of the Queen Regent would arouse Spanish indignation beyond the limits of endurance. The Queen-mother had to think of her baby son’s crown. If she were to yield to the superior power of the United States without a struggle, Spanish revolutionists would overthrow the dynasty before he could come to the throne. However well she might know that the logical outcome of a war would be overwhelming defeat to Spanish arms, political necessities compelled her to take the position dictated by Spanish pride.
The Spanish Cortes met in special session at Madrid, and on the 20th of April the Queen Regent delivered her speech before that legislative body and declared that her parliament was summoned in the hour of peril to defend her country’s rights and her child’s throne, whatever sacrifice might be entailed. It was on that same day that President McKinley presented the ultimatum of the United States to Spain, in language diplomatic in form, but carrying with it a definite notice to yield Cuba’s freedom and relinquish her pretense of authority in that island without delay. A copy of the ultimatum was forwarded to the Spanish ambassador at Washington, Senor Polo y Bernabe, who responded by asking for his passports and safe conduct out of the country.
Having reached the point where diplomacy no longer availed, the Spanish government for the first time made an aggressive move against the United States. Instead of waiting for the transmission of the ultimatum by American Minister Stewart L. Woodford, the ministry forestalled him and dismissed him from Madrid without affording him an opportunity to present that important document. It had been transmitted to Madrid by cable from the Spanish Minister in Washington, and the government felt no need to wait for formal messages from the enemy’s representative in Spain. Minister Woodford left Madrid without delay, and finally reached the French frontier, after being subjected to many insults and attacks upon his train during the journey from the Spanish capital.
Martial spirit spreading.
A wave of national patriotic enthusiasm swept over the United States. North and South, East and West, there was hardly a discordant note in the great chorus of fervent applause which rose when it was understood that at last the forces of the nation were to be united in the cause of liberty and humanity.
But sentiment could not fight battles, unless backed by material equipment. The nation was preparing for war. From all parts of the United States the troops of the regular army were hurried by special trains southeastward to camps at Chickamauga and Tampa. In every navy yard work was hurried night and day upon all incomplete battleships and cruisers. Already the fleets of the American navy had been concentrated at points of vantage so that little was left to be done on that score. Congress lost no time in providing the sinews of war by generous appropriations for the regular channels of supply, in addition to one passed by unanimous vote of both houses granting $50,000,000 as a special fund to be at the disposal of the President. The war appropriation bill and the naval appropriation bill carried with them emergency clauses. Preparations were made for the reorganization of the regular army to more than double its normal size, and the President was authorized to call for a volunteer army of 125,000 men. Looking to the future, and the possibility of a long and expensive conflict, financial measures were prepared which would raise war revenues through the regular channels of taxation and the issue of bonds. Americans were ready to put their hands in their pockets and pay for the privilege of teaching a worthy lesson to the world.
American sense of humor never fails, and even in this period of stress the people took time to smile over the story of the Spanish Minister’s journey from Washington to Canada. In Toronto, Senor Polo sought to discredit the assaults that had been made on Minister Woodford’s train in Spain, and related that he himself had been the victim of assaults at two or three important cities on his journey through New York, which threatened great danger to himself and the train on which he was riding.
Upon inquiry it was revealed that the assaults which had aroused his fear were not quite as hostile as he believed. At the division stations on the line, the railway employees, according to custom, passed along the cars, tapping the tires of the wheels with steel hammers to test them for a possible flaw or break in the wheel, and it was this that made the Spanish Minister believe that he was the victim of an American outrage.
First guns are fired.
The United States cruiser Nashville of the North Atlantic squadron, with headquarters at Key West, had the honor of firing the first shot in our war with Spain.
Early on the morning of Friday, April 22, the American fleet sailed from Key West, and, steaming southward across the straits of Florida, came in sight of Havana and the frowning fortifications of Morro Castle before six o’clock the same afternoon.
The sailing of the fleet, as dawn was creeping over the Florida keys, was a beautiful sight and a significant one, for from the time the first signals were hoisted until many days after, there was hardly an hour of inactivity. It was at three o’clock in the morning that the signal lights began to flash from the New York, Admiral Sampson’s flagship. Answering signals appeared on the warships all along the line, and in a few moments black smoke began to belch from the funnels of all the ships and the crews woke from quietness to activity.
As soon as day began to break, the cruisers and gunboats inside the harbor hoisted anchors and moved out to join the big battleships which were already lined outside the bar. At five o’clock, when all the fleet were gathered around the battleships, Captain Sampson signaled from the New York to go ahead. The formation of the line had been agreed upon some time before and each vessel was in position for line of battle, the New York in the center and the Iowa and Indiana on either beam. The ships presented a most beautiful appearance as they swept out on the ocean without a vestige of anything not absolutely necessary on the decks. They were stripped of all useless superstructure, awnings, gun-covers and everything that goes to adorn a ship. Officers paced the bridge, marines were drawn up on deck and every man was at his post. They appeared as they were, grim fighting machines, not naval vessels out on cruise nor a squadron of evolution and maneuver, but warships out for business.
First Spanish ship captured.
The fleet had proceeded twelve miles from Sand Key Light, which lies seven miles southeast of Key West, when the Nashville signaled the flagship that a vessel flying the Spanish colors had been sighted. Admiral Sampson signaled from the New York for the Nashville to go and take it. The Nashville bore down on the Spanish ship and fired a blank shot from the port guns aft. This did not stop the Spaniard, and, to give a more definite hint, a solid shot was fired close over its bows. The Spanish ship immediately hove to and waited to know its fate.
The vessel proved to be the Buena Ventura, with a crew of about thirty men, bound from Pascagonla to Rotterdam with a cargo of lumber, cattle and miscellaneous freight. As soon as possible a boat was lowered from the Nashville and an officer was sent aboard the Buena Ventura. When the Spanish captain was informed that his ship could not proceed, he took his capture gracefully, shrugged his shoulders, and said he supposed it was only the fortune of war. It was suggested to him that the capture of a ship bearing that name, which, translated, means “good fortune,” as the first prize of the American fleet in the war, seemed to be a striking coincidence. A prize crew of marines under Ensign T. P. Magruder was placed aboard, and, with the Nashville in the lead, both ships set out for Key West.
Inasmuch as the Buena Ventura was the first capture by the American navy in the war, it had a more definite interest than a success of the same sort would have a few months later. The first shot was fired by Gunner Michael Mallia of the Nashville, who therefore has the distinction of firing the first shot in the war. The prize was a rich one, estimated to be worth, including vessel and cargo, nearly $500,000, and the prize money resulting became a tempting amount. Captain Washburne Maynard, commander of the Nashville, who gained the distinction of making the first capture, is a native of Knoxville, Tenn. He is a son of former United States Senator Horace Maynard, and at the time of the capture was about fifty years old. He entered the Annapolis Naval Academy at the age of seventeen and graduated at the head of his class. He was for a number of years stationed in Alaska, and at the time of gaining his present distinction had been in command of the Nashville for four years.
Blockade of Havana begun.
After the Nashville left the fleet to return to Key West with its prize, the remaining vessels of the squadron steamed onward toward the Cuban coast. Coming within fifteen miles of Morro Castle, the fleet scattered in a more open line of battle, some of the vessels turning to the east and others to the west, and making the blockade of the port complete. No ship could enter or leave the harbor, and every day brought new prizes to the vessels of the blockading squadron.
The blockade of the Cuban metropolis was well in progress by the time the formal notification of it was issued. The President issued warning to the nations of the world that the Cuban ports were sealed by the authority of the United States, in the following formal proclamation:
By the president of the united states: A proclamation.
Whereas, By a joint resolution passed by the Congress and approved April 20,1898, and communicated to the government of Spain, it was demanded that said government at once relinquish its authority and government in the island of Cuba, and withdraw its land and naval forces from Cuba and Cuban waters; and the President of the United States was directed and empowered to use the entire land and naval forces of the United States and to call into the actual service of the United States the militia of the several States to such extent as might be necessary to carry said resolution into effect; and
Whereas, In carrying into effect this resolution the President of the United States deems it necessary to set on foot and maintain a blockade of the north coast of Cuba, including all ports of said coast between Cardenas and Bahia Honda and the port of Cienfuegos, on the south coast of Cuba;
Now, therefore, I, William McKinley, President of the United States, in order to enforce the said resolution, do hereby declare and proclaim that the United States of America has instituted and will maintain a blockade of the north coast of Cuba, including ports on said coast between Cardenas and Bahia Honda, and the port of Cienfuegos on the south coast of Cuba, aforesaid, in pursuance of the laws of the United States and the law of nations applicable to such cases.
An efficient force will be posted so as to prevent the entrance and exit of vessels from the ports aforesaid. Any neutral vessel approaching said ports, or attempting to leave the same, without notice or knowledge of the establishment of such blockade, will be duly warned by the commander of the blockading forces, who will indorse on her register the fact and the date of such warning, where such indorsement was made; and if the same vessel shall again attempt to enter any blockaded port she will be captured and sent to the nearest convenient port for such proceedings against her and her cargo as prize as may be deemed advisable. Neutral vessels lying in any of said ports at the time of the establishment of such blockade will be allowed thirty days to issue therefrom.
In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.
Done at the city of Washington this 22d day of April, A. D. 1898, and of the independence of the United States the one hundred and twenty-second.
By the President: William M’KINLEY.
John Sherman, Secretary of State.
More Spanish prizes taken.
The blockade was not a mere paper blockade, but an exceedingly effective one. Before two days had passed, the prizes taken began to multiply in numbers and in value. The second capture was the Spanish freighter Pedro, of Bilboa, which was taken by the New York in the afternoon of the first day’s cruising.
When the fleet approached the Cuban coast and spread out for patrol duty, the New York turned eastward for her own watch, not knowing what might be found in the neighborhood. Far off against the dim, vague background of Cuban hills, half seen, half guessed, could be traced a faint film of gray smoke, the one visible evidence of a Spanish freighter striving vainly to race out the day without being discovered by the great gray monsters that blackened the sky to the west with a solid mass of black cloud from their roaring furnaces.
Vainly the Spaniard raced. Charging along at trial test speed, the New York soon lay across the bows of the Spanish ship, and the crashing challenge blazed from the deck of the cruiser. A huge puff of white smoke rolled out from the side of the flagship, and far off, just in front of the Spaniard, a fountain of white foam leaped into the air. In a moment the course of the strange Spaniard was changed, and she hove to.
Shortly after, the New York led her prize further out from shore and laid her to. Crew and captain could be seen rushing about the deck of the ship like a nest of ants, hiding their valuables and striving to avert some impending fate they could only guess at in their ignorance. As she came around her name could be clearly read on her stern, Pedro of Bilboa.
As soon as she was laid alongside, the Pedro was boarded by Ensign Frank Marble of the New York. Ensign Marble led a prize crew, consisting of a file of marines and seamen. With great formality the ensign swung aboard and assumed command. A burly, bare-footed American tar shoved the Spanish quartermaster away from the wheel and began to set the course of the Spaniard. The Spanish crew gathered in a terrified huddle near the forecastle and awaited developments.
Hardly had the prize crew been put on board before another freighter was seen going down the coast to the eastward. The New York, leaving the captured Spanish craft in charge of the prize crew, drew across the bows of the stranger and sent a shot into the water directly in front of her bows. She paid no attention to the challenge, but kept steadily on, and a few seconds later another shot was sent hurtling across the water in front of her. After this hostile demonstration she hauled up and soon followed the New York out to sea. It was discovered, however, that she flew the German flag, and consequently was permitted to proceed.
The prize crew from the New York took the captured vessel into port at Key West under its own steam. The ship was bound from Havana to Santiago with a valuable cargo of rice, iron and beer. On the same day two other captures were made, one by the torpedo boat Ericsson, which seized a fishing schooner under the very guns of Morro Castle and by the torpedo boat, Porter, which took the Spanish schooner, Mathilde, after a lively chase and a number of shots. Both of these prizes were taken to Key West to join their unfortunate friends.
Excitement in Havana.
It was nearly five o’clock in the afternoon of that lucky Friday, when the semaphore by the lighthouse in Morro Castle signaled to the people of Havana that a fleet had been sighted. It was said to be without any colors to show its nationality. At that time La Punta, the fort on the side of the harbor opposite Morro Castle, was crowded with curious people, including many ladies. In addition, crowds of people could be seen at various points of vantage, many of them gathering on the roofs of houses. At 6 p. m. the semaphore signaled that it was the United States fleet which was in sight, and at 6:15 p. m. a red flag was run up at the signal station, warning guns were fired from Morro Castle, and afterward from Cabanas fortress, adjoining it. This caused excitement throughout the city, and was the first real note of war. When the first signal came from the semaphore station a British schooner which was in the harbor put to sea. She was immediately followed by the German steamer Remus. Some time afterward the American steamer Saratoga put to sea.
The cannon shots from the fortresses stirred up the regular troops and volunteers throughout Havana and its vicinity and there was a rush to quarters. The signal guns from the fortifications echoed to the palace and through the streets, causing people to rush from their houses, with the result that all the thoroughfares were soon crowded with excited inhabitants. Captain General Blanco heard the shots while at the palace, to which place the generals and commanders of the volunteers promptly reported, full of excitement and warlike enthusiasm. Some time afterward the Captain General, accompanied by his staff, the generals and others, left the palace and was warmly acclaimed by the soldiers and populace. The General then made a brief final inspection of the fortifications and went to a spot from which he could see the approaching fleet.
There was no sign of alarm anywhere. The Spaniards were confident that Havana was prepared for any eventuality, and they had great faith in the strength of their forts, batteries, etc., and in the effectiveness of their heavy artillery. In fact, there was a feeling of satisfaction at the warlike tremors which spread everywhere when it was seen that the hour of battle was apparently approaching and that the Spaniards were soon to give battle to their enemies.
As the time passed, more people crowded to the spot from which the fleets could be most favorably seen. By 8:30 p. m. there was a great movement of the masses through all the streets and on all the squares. The coffee-houses and clubs were crowded with excited people, discussing the arrival of the American war ships. The Spaniards expressed themselves as anxious to measure arms with the “invaders,” and there was no expression of doubt as to the result. The civil and military authorities of Havana were in consultation at the palace, and every precaution possible to the Spaniards was taken to guard against a night surprise and to resist an attack if the bombardment commenced.
Spain’s days of grace expire.
When President McKinley sent his ultimatum to Spain, he indicated that it was to expire at noon on Saturday, April 23, and at that time the period allowed Spain to give up Cuba peacefully was ended. Spain, however, had not waited to take advantage of this time limit, but by her own preparations during the days that had passed, as well as by her diplomatic actions, had indicated plainly that war was to come. The action of Minister Polo in demanding his passport and leaving the United States, and the action of the Spanish government in ejecting Minister Woodford, were sufficient notifications of the policy which was to be pursued. It had been unnecessary, therefore, for the fleet to wait for a more explicit answer before investing Havana. Not until the expiration of the time allotted by President McKinley to Spain, did he take definite action which committed the country to a distinct war policy in advance of the declaration of war by Congress. But at noon on Saturday the President issued the following proclamation calling for 125,000 troops to serve two years if the war should last so long:
By the president of the united states: A proclamation.
Whereas, by a joint resolution of Congress, approved the 22d of April, 1898, entitled “Joint resolution for the recognition of the independence of the people of Cuba, demanding that the government of Spain relinquish its authority and government in the island of Cuba, to withdraw its land and naval forces from Cuba and Cuban waters, and directing the President of the United States to use the land and naval forces of the United States to carry these resolutions into effect,” and,
Whereas, by an act of Congress, entitled “An act to provide for the increasing of the military establishment of the United States in time of war and for other purposes,” approved April 22, 1898, the President was authorized in order to raise a volunteer army to issue his proclamation calling for volunteers to serve in the army of the United States.
Now, therefore, I, William McKinley, President of the United States, by the power vested in me by the constitution and laws, and deeming sufficient occasion to exist, have thought fit to call for and hereby do call for volunteers to the aggregate number of 125,000, in order to carry into effect the purpose of the said resolution, the same to be apportioned, as far as practicable, among the several States and Territories and the District of Columbia, according to population, and to serve for two years unless sooner discharged. The details for this object will be immediately communicated to the proper authorities through the war department.
In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.
Done at Washington this 23d day of April, 1898, and of the independence of the United States the one hundred and twenty-second.
By the President: William McKINLEY.
John Sherman, Secretary of State.
States begin to collect their troops.
Although it was decided that formal notification to the Governors of the states of the call for volunteers should not be made until the following Monday, the first step was taken immediately after the signing of the proclamation, by the issuance of orders to the organized militia of the District of Columbia. Before dinner time the drums were beating and the roll was being called within sight and sound of the White House, and before night the drum beats were heard from the Atlantic to the Pacific and from the Gulf of Mexico to the Great Lakes.
There was no interruption in the sequence of captures by the American fleet around Havana, and two prizes of considerable value were added to the list. On Saturday the gunboat Helena took the big steamer Miguel Jover, a vessel of more than 2,000 tons, with a full cargo of cotton and staves on board. The prize was worth not less than $400,000. Friday night the Helena left Key West to follow the main fleet, but instead of sailing directly for Havana, turned westward toward the west end of the island of Cuba. The dark, cloudy night had barely broken to a brilliant Cuban sunrise, when the Helena saw smoke on the western horizon and gave chase.
It was soon evident that the quarry had sighted the hunter and was making a run for it. The freighter was no match in speed for the gunboat, however, and the Helena was soon near enough to fire a shot. Only one blank shot was required. The fugitive steamer shook out the Spanish flag and hove to. When the Helena came up the captain tried to talk Captain Swinburne out of his prize. He urged that he was from an American port, New Orleans, and knew nothing of a declaration of war. The talk did him no good. He was taken on board the Helena and a prize crew of a dozen sailors and sixteen marines, under Ensigns M. C. Davis and H. G. McFarland, was put aboard the Jover.
The first the fleet knew of the capture was when the Helena came steaming up with her prize and signaled the flagship. The other ships cheered and the Helena, started off for Key West, the Jover being worked by its own men, superintended by the prize crew.
Valuable prize captured.
The most valuable prize yet taken was the transatlantic liner, Catalina, which was taken by the Detroit. The vessel’s tonnage was 6,000, and with its general cargo the prize was considered worth nearly $600,000. The big ship was bound from New Orleans to Barcelona, via Havana, with a large general cargo. Twelve miles before making port the steamer was stopped by two shots, and a prize crew under Ensign H. H. Christy, consisting of sixteen men from the Detroit and New York, was put on board to take the vessel back to Key West.
In addition to these notable captures the torpedo boat, Porter, took the Spanish schooner, Antonio, laden with sugar for Havana, and the revenue cutter, Winona, added the Spanish steamer Saturnina to the list.
If it had not been for the excitement of taking occasional prizes, the blockading of Havana would have been dull business for the Jack Tars aboard the North Atlantic squadron. Saturday night they had to listen to the roar of the guns of Morro Castle and see the flashes of fire from their muzzles, without a reply from the fleet. Havana officials have declared that the discharge of those guns was only for signaling purposes and was not an attack on the fleet, but it would be difficult to make the sailors believe that Spanish marksmanship was not responsible for the fact that no balls fell near them.
Spain declares war.
The Spanish government did not wait for further aggression on the part of the United States, but herself made the next formal move by issuing a declaration of the fact that war existed, and defining the conditions under which the Spanish government expected to carry on the conflict. This decree was gazetted in Madrid on Sunday, April 24, in the following terms:
Diplomatic relations are broken off between Spain and the United States, and the state of war having begun between the two countries numerous questions of international law arise which must be precisely defined chiefly because the injustice and provocation come from our adversaries and it is they who, by their detestable conduct, have caused this grave conflict.
We have observed with strictest fidelity the principles of international law and have shown the most scrupulous respect for morality and the right of government. There is an opinion that the fact that we have not adhered to the declaration of Paris does not exempt us from the duty of respecting the principles therein enunciated. The principle Spain unquestionably refused to admit then was the abolition of privateering. The government now considers it most indispensable to make absolute reserve on this point in order to maintain our liberty of action and uncontested right to have recourse to privateering when we consider it expedient, first by organizing immediately a force of cruisers auxiliary to the navy, which will be composed of vessels of our mercantile marine and with equal distinction in the work of our navy.
Clause 1—The state of war existing between Spain and the United States annuls the treaty of peace and amity of Oct. 27, 1795, and the protocol of Jan. 12, 1877, and all other agreements, treaties, or conventions in force between the two countries.
Clause 2—From the publication of these presents thirty days are granted to all ships of the United States anchored in our harbors to take their departure free of hindrance.
Clause 3—Notwithstanding that Spain has not adhered to the declaration of Paris the government, respecting the principles of the law of nations, proposes to observe, and hereby orders to be observed, the following regulations of maritime law:
1. Neutral flags cover the enemy’s merchandise except contraband of war.
2. Neutral merchandise, except contraband of war, is not seizable under the enemy’s flag.
3. A blockade to be obligatory must be effective—viz.: It must be maintained with sufficient force to prevent access to the enemy’s littoral.
4. The Spanish government, upholding its right to grant letters of marque, will at present confine itself to organizing, with the vessels of the mercantile marine, a force of auxiliary cruisers which will cooperate with the navy according to the needs of the campaign and will be under naval control.
5. In order to capture the enemy’s ships and confiscate the enemy’s merchandise and contraband of war under whatever form, the auxiliary cruisers will exercise the right of search on the high seas and in the waters under the enemy’s jurisdiction, in accordance with international law and the regulations which will be published.
6. Defines what is included in contraband of war, naming weapons, ammunition, equipments, engines, and, in general, all the appliances used in war.
7. To be regarded and judged as pirates with all the rigor of the law are captains, masters, officers, and two-thirds of the crews of vessels which, not being American, shall commit acts of war against Spain, even if provided with letters of marque issued by the United States.
Following is a summary of the more important of the five clauses outlining the rules Spain announced she would observe during the war:
The united states makes reply.
It took the House of Representatives just one minute and forty-one seconds on Monday to pass a declaration of war which replied to that of Spain. The Senate acted almost as promptly, and their respective presiding officers and the President of the United States signed the Act of Congress immediately, so that it became at once a law of the land. The declaration of war was passed by Congress in response to a message from the President requesting that action in the following terms:
To the senate and house of representatives of the united states of America:
I transmit to Congress for its consideration and appropriate action copies of correspondence recently had with the representative of Spain in the United States, with the United States Minister at Madrid, and through the latter with the government of Spain, showing the action taken under the joint resolution approved April 20, 1898, “for the recognition of the independence of the people of Cuba, demanding that the government of Spain relinquish its authority and government in the island of Cuba and to withdraw its land and naval forces from Cuba and Cuban waters, and directing the President of the United States to carry these resolutions into effect.”
Upon communicating with the Spanish Minister in Washington the demand which it became the duty of the executive to address to the government of Spain, in obedience to said resolution, the said Minister asked for his passports and withdrew. The United States Minister at Madrid was in turn notified by the Spanish Minister for Foreign Affairs that the withdrawal of the Spanish representative from the United States had terminated diplomatic relations between the two countries, and that all official communications between their respective representatives ceased therewith.
I recommend to your special attention the note addressed to the United States Minister at Madrid by the Spanish Minister for Foreign Affairs on the 21st inst., whereby the foregoing notification was conveyed. It will be perceived therefrom that the government of Spain, having cognizance of the joint resolution of the United States Congress, and in view of things which the President is thereby required and authorized to do, responds by treating the representative demands of this government as measures of hostility, following with that instant and complete severance of relations by its action whereby the usage of nations accompanies an existent state of war between sovereign powers.
The position of Spain being thus made known, and the demands of the United States being denied, with a complete rupture of intercourse by the act of Spain, I have been constrained, in exercise of the power and authority conferred upon me by the joint resolution aforesaid, to proclaim, under date of April 22, 1898, a blockade of certain ports on the north coast of Cuba lying between Cardenas and Bahia Honda, and of the port of Cienfuegos on the south coast of Cuba; and further, in exercise of my constitutional powers, and using the authority conferred upon me by the act of Congress approved April 22, 1898, to issue my proclamation, dated April 23, 1898, calling for volunteers in order to carry into effect the said resolutions of April 20, 1898. Copies of these proclamations are hereto appended.
In view of the measures so taken, and with a view to the adoption of such other measures as may be necessary to enable me to carry out the expressed will of the Congress of the United States in the premises, I now recommend to your honorable 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.
William McKINLEY. Executive Mansion, Washington, April 25, 1898.
War is declared.
The formal declaration of war as passed by the houses of Congress was short and pointed, worthy of recollection as a model for such unpleasant documents. It read as follows:
A bill declaring that war exists between the united states of America and the kingdom of Spain.
Be it enacted, etc.:
First—That war be and the same is hereby declared to exist and that war has existed since the 2lst day of April, A. D. 1898, including said day, between the United States of America and the Kingdom of Spain.
Second—That the President of the United States be, and he hereby is, directed and empowered to use the entire land and naval forces of the United States and to call into the actual service of the United States the militia of the several States to such extent as may be necessary to carry this act into effect.
Diplomacy was still taking a hand in the war. Spain was indignant at the attack on Spanish possessions and endeavored to arouse sympathy among her European neighbors. The Queen Regent addressed telegrams to all the sovereigns of Europe protesting against the vitiation of the rights of Spain by the United States, and declaring that her government was firmly resolved never to yield until crushed. This was a personal communication from one sovereign to her brother sovereigns of the continental kingdom. At the same time there was made public Spain’s memorandum to all the European powers which was an official utterance of the Spanish ministry and signed by Senor Gullon, the Spanish Minister of Foreign Affairs.
The memorandum began by recording the “moral and material aid the Cuban rebels have received from the United States” in filibustering expeditions and the operations of the junta. It mentioned Spain’s repeated and positive denials to the allegations of cruelty toward the Cubans, and laid great stress upon President Cleveland’s dispatch of Dec. 7, 1896, to the effect that peace would be possible if Spain gave a sufficient autonomy to Cuba.
The memorandum contended that, in the face of the new liberal constitution granted Cuba, which “has already borne fruits,” it was difficult to understand why President McKinley, in his message of Dec. 6, 1897, and General Woodford, in the note of Dec. 20, 1897, should still doubt Spain’s loyalty.
The document then spoke at some length of the Maine accident, and asserted that the Americans, under the pretext of the extra territoriality of the vessel, never allowed the Spanish authorities to visit the wreck for purposes of investigation; and it most solemnly asserted the absolute innocence of Spanish officials and of Spanish subjects generally.
The fairness and loyalty of Spain were then shown by a reference to the equitable treatment which American filibusters, more especially those of the Competitor, received at the hands of Spain, and in order to show more fully how pacific and correct have been the attitude of the Spanish government the memorandum enumerated the four clauses of the Spanish proposals. They were:
Proposals of Spain.
1. An offer to submit all questions arising from the Maine affair to arbitration.
2. An order to Governor-General Blanco to retire into the western provinces and to apply 3,000,000 pesetas for the relief of the agricultural population, with an acceptance by the Spanish government of relief for Cubans sent by the United States, provided such relief were sent in merchant vessels.
3. The co-operation of the Cuban parliament in formulating the extent of the powers to be reserved for the central government.
4. In view of the Cuban parliament not meeting before May 4, the proclamation of an immediate armistice.
The memorandum proceeded to declare that the United States had not accepted even these far-reaching concessions, and that the good offices of the pope had been equally unavailing. It asserted that the Maine accident was used by political parties in America as a means of hurling “most gratuitous and intolerable calumnies at the Spanish government,” and yet, the document said, Mr. Olney, in an official note dated April 4, 1896, to the Spanish minister in Washington, himself expressed very serious apprehensions lest the only existing bond of union in Cuba should disappear in the event of Spain withdrawing from that island. Mr. Olney, as the memorandum argued, feared at that time that a war of races would ensue, all the more sanguinary in proportion to the experience and discipline acquired during the insurrection, and that two republics would at once be formed—one white, the other black—the upshot being that one of the two would swallow the other.
The grave view thus taken by Mr. Olney of the future of Cuba freed from Spain’s rule was then enlarged upon, and inevitable racial wars were foreshadowed, which were “certain to wreck the existence of Cuba as a state, should Spain be deprived of sovereignty” over the island. Thus, being convinced, as Spain was, that right and equity are on her side “she will not and cannot surrender her sovereignty in Cuba.”
Trouble for Spain at home.
Spain’s embarrassments at home were multiplying, and threatening danger only less than that from the hostilities of the United States. Twenty thousand republicans of all shades of opinion in Madrid signed and addressed to Senor Castelar, the republican leader, under the pretext of congratulating him upon his recovery from recent sickness, but in reality offering him their services if he would proclaim a republic.
At the same time Don Carlos, the pretender to the Spanish throne, was a disturbing element, threatening a revolution against the present dynasty if an opportunity were to offer.
During all these complications, which included at one time even a threat that the Spanish ministry would resign, there was no discordant note of any sort in the United States. Secretary of State John Sherman and Postmaster General Gary resigned from President McKinley’s cabinet because of ill health, in order that the government might be in no way handicapped during the time of emergency. Secretary Sherman was succeeded by Assistant Secretary Judge William R. Day of Canton, Ohio, who had displayed remarkable aptitude for the office during his term of service, while Mr. Gary’s successor was the Honorable Charles Emory Smith, of Philadelphia, a newspaper editor and formerly ambassador to Russia.
Along the Cuban coast.
It was the torpedo boats which kept things exciting during the early blockade of Cuban ports. They are like hornets, which travel faster than anything that tries to escape them, sting when they strike, and vanish in an instant. Two of these brisk fighters distinguished themselves on Sunday, while the diplomats were busy in the cabinets of the world. The torpedo boat Porter, which is as fleet as an express train, has a dare-devil crew and an intrepid commander with an honored name. He is Lieutenant John C. Fremont, a son of the famous “Pathfinder,” who himself never hesitated to lead the way, whether in wilderness exploration or any other duty that came before him.
Lieutenant Fremont, with the Porter, made a landing on the north coast of Cuba with a small force of his men, in search of certain information which was desired by Admiral Sampson for the guidance of his plans. It was a dangerous undertaking, for the squad might have been wiped out in spite of their readiness to fight, if they had stumbled upon Spanish troops. None were met, however, the journey was made in safety, and the landing party returned to the fleet in triumph with the distinction of being the first actual invaders of the Cuban soil in this warfare.
Earlier in the same day the torpedo boat Foote, in command of Lieutenant W. L. Rogers, was directed to take soundings of the approach to the harbor of Matanzas, an important city on the north coast of Cuba fifty miles east of Havana. The Foote drew the first fire definitely known to be directed against the blockading squadron. The little scout was taking soundings within three hundred yards of shore, when a Spanish masked battery on the east side of the harbor, commanding the entrance, fired three shots in quick succession. They all went wide of the mark, striking the water nearly a quarter of a mile away from the boat. The officers and men were momentarily startled by the volley, and then continued their observation. The cruiser Cincinnati, which was not far away, was hailed by the torpedo boat and Lieutenant Rogers reported his experience. The orders of Captain Chester, in command of the Cincinnati, did not permit him to shell Matanzas, so the fire from the masked battery was not returned.
The call to arms.
It was on Monday, the 25th of April, that the national authorities notified the governors of each state that they would be expected to furnish volunteers for our war with Spain. The response was immediate. In every state of the Union the call to arms was heard with delight and troops gathered at their armories for prompt enlistment. The speed and facility with which a trained and efficient army could be mobilized was an amazement to those who had not been familiar with the details of the organization of the National Guard of America. Within twenty-four hours after the receipt of the order, thousands of troops were moving to the state encampments where they had been directed to gather. Illinois was an example of this promptness, in sending nearly 5,000 men out of Chicago without delay, but this was no more notable than the record made by many other states in every part of the Union. The cheers and the blessings of hundreds of thousands of loyal citizens stimulated those who were to go to the front with the banner of freedom, and they realized that they were representing the sentiment of a united nation.
Those days near the end of April were exciting times. The whole nation was keyed up to a nervous tension of anxiety to know what would be the next event recorded on land or sea. The armies of the United States were preparing for the struggle, the coast defenses were brought to completion, and the government was ready for any emergency that might arise. Admiral Sampson’s splendid North Atlantic squadron was blockading the ports of Cuba. Admiral Schley, with the flying squadron at Hampton Roads, was ready for prompt action in any direction where it might be effective, whether to protect the Atlantic coast cities from a threatened assault by Spanish warships, or to descend upon the Spanish fleet for a naval battle.
Admiral Dewey with the Asiatic squadron had been driven out of Hong Kong by application of the neutrality laws, and international obligations might embarrass him unless he took the aggressive, and made for himself a base of supplies in the Philippine Islands. It was expected every day that he would make an assault upon Manila, the capital of the Philippines, and that the first naval engagement of consequence in the war would be with the Spanish fleet in those waters. No one doubted that the Asiatic squadron would be able to give a good account of itself, although the fleet which was to oppose it did not lack efficient guns and fighting strength.
The capture of that valuable Spanish colony, in which rebellion against the government was in progress, would be not only a severe blow to the Spanish arms, but would also strengthen the position of the United States in the Orient by the capture of large supplies of coal and naval equipment, as well as a splendid base of operations.
But while these preparations were going on for the conflict which was destined to cost Spain her possessions in the western world, there were a few individuals who were still making desperate efforts to induce the administration at Washington to effect a compromise at any cost. Not even the actual declaration of war, and the call for volunteers, could bring the members of this peace-at-any-price party to a realization of the fact that patience has ceased to be a virtue, that we could no longer turn a deaf ear to the appeals of an oppressed people, and that the brave men who went down with the Maine must be avenged.
Every true American felt that the hour had come when we must defend the honor of our great nation, and it was evident to all that the time was near at hand when actual warfare was to begin both on land and sea.
The insurgents in Cuba, who have been struggling against almost overwhelming odds for so many months, received the glad tidings of American intervention with unbounded joy, and at once sent representatives to the United States to arrange for co-operation in the invasion of Cuba, and to assist in planning a systematic campaign against the Spanish forces. Every arrangement was completed for final action and with men and money, munitions of war and ships, all in ample supply, it was evident that the crucial test was soon to come, and that war was at last an actual fact.
How Columbus found the “Pearl of the Antilles.”
In gratitude of Spain to the Great Discoverer Who Gave Her a New World—How Spain’s Evil Colonial Policy Lost the Western Hemisphere to That Obsolete Nation—Early Settlement of Cuba— Character of the Natives at the Time of the Discovery—Founding of the First Cities—Havana Becomes the Island Capital—Docility of the Natives and Their Extermination by Spanish Oppressors.
Cuba and Columbus are names inseparably connected. This largest and most fruitful island of the Spanish Main was discovered by the great navigator himself on the 28th day of October, 1492, only a short time after his first landing upon the soil of the western hemisphere on the island of San Salvador. There is a sentimental association to Americans in the thought that the discovery of our own continent was due to the pioneer expeditions sent from Spain. But any regret in one’s mind that animosities have risen between the two nations, may be mollified by the memory that Columbus was himself an Italian, that it had required years of his efforts to induce sufficient interest on the part of Spanish monarchs to father his undertaking, and that his life in the service of Spain was marred by the basest ingratitude on the part of those whom he had served.
Upon the handsome monument erected to the memory of Columbus in Seville by Ferdinand and Isabella, is the simple inscription, “A Castile y Leon, nuevo mundo dio Colon”—“to Castile and Leon, Columbus gave a new world.”
This was the tardy recognition granted to the discoverer by those to whom he had made the marvelous gift. Recognition had been denied him in his life, except after years of persistent urging, second only to those years he wasted in his effort to arouse Spanish interest and enterprise. Once he was removed from his West Indian governorship and returned to Spain in chains. The titles and honors which had been promised him before, were denied after he had earned them. He was a victim of foul ingratitude, and no American need permit sentiment to blind him for the sake of Columbus.
The splendid new world which Columbus gave to Spain, was the most marvelous addition of territory that has ever come into the possession of any nation upon earth. It included the whole of South America, except Brazil, which was acquired by Portugal, and the small colonies known as British, Dutch and French Guiana. It included the whole of Central America and Mexico. It included the whole of what is now the United States west of the Mississippi river. It included the whole of the coast of the Gulf of Mexico and the peninsula of Florida to the southern limit of Alabama and Georgia, and except for a few scattered islands, it included every foot of land in the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean sea, all the coral rocks, as well as the greater islands of the West Indies and the Antilles. To-day not a foot of all that enormous possession remains to Spain undisputed, except the islands of Cuba and Puerto Rico. These hundreds of thousands of square miles are inhabited by a free and peaceful people, most of them as republics, and the few exceptions under civilized and liberal colonial policies. Spain’s hold on Cuba has vanished and Puerto Rico is slipping away. Spain could not preserve the gifts of Columbus.
SPAINS colonial policies.
The logic of events and the progress of civilization have commanded that Spain should withdraw from her possessions in the western hemisphere. Never has there been such a record of ferocity and barbarity in conquest, as that which blackens the pages of Spanish history in connection with Spain’s acquisition and subjection of her newly discovered territories. Whether it was the peaceful Indians of the Antilles, the highly civilized Aztecs of Mexico, or the Incas of Peru, the policy pursued was always the same. First, treacherous friendship, then robbery and massacre, then slavery, and finally extermination, was the unvarying programme. And so, instead of winning favor and loyalty with their consequent happiness and prosperity from the native tribes, Spanish conquerors implanted in the possessors of the country an over-mastering and ineradicable hatred, which grew with association, until in colony after colony the bonds were burst by violence.
When Great Britain lost her American colonies by reason of her misgovernment and oppression of them, it was a lesson which her people never forgot. From that day, the colonial policy of the British government was altered, and the spirit of liberality and generosity began to dominate. To-day, every colony of Great Britain that enjoys representative government—Canada, Australia, Cape Colony and many others, owes to the United States the liberty which Great Britain grants.
But Spain could learn no such lessons. Her cruelty and misgovernment aroused colony after colony to rebellion ending in freedom, but her policies remained unaltered. One by one possessions of fabulous wealth dropped away until at last this old crone of nations has been left to shiver alone by her fireside, abandoned in her misery by all the children whose memory of her is nothing but that of vicious cruelty. The only pity to which Spain is entitled, is the pity that is due for her ignorance and her mistakes, not pity for the penalties that these have brought upon her.
Spain was once the intellectual leader of the world, as well as the pioneer of discovery. Spanish universities were centers of learning long before northern Europe had its intellectual birth. Spanish mariners sailed every sea and Spanish adventurers explored every land. If learning and advancement bring obligations, as they are admitted to do, it was Spain’s obligation to be a leader in strife for liberty of mind and body, but the two most notable things in her history are the Spanish inquisition against freedom of thought, and the Spanish ferocities which enslaved a new world for many a year. Now she has reaped the harvest of her own misdeeds.
The early settlement of Cuba.
Every one knows that Columbus was not looking for a western hemisphere, but for the Orient, and that when he found Cuba he believed he had reached the East Indies and the islands of gold and spice which had been reported from that mysterious land. His first island discoveries he believed to be the outlying portions of that eastern archipelago and when the natives told him of a greater land near by, which he reached a few days later, he believed that at last he had reached Cipango, as Japan then was called.
The first name given to the island was Juana, in honor of Prince Juan, the son of Ferdinand and Isabella of Aragon and Castile. After Ferdinand’s death, in his honor the name was changed to Fernandina. Still later it received the name of Santiago, as a mark of reverence for the patron saint of Spain, and another change was made a few years afterward, when the inhabitants, as a proof of their piety, called it Ave Maria, in honor of the Holy Virgin. In spite of all this effort at establishing a Spanish name, the original Indian name of Cuba, which it bore when the great navigator first landed on its shores, has asserted itself triumphantly through all the centuries and is now ineradicable.
According to the accounts given by Spanish writers who were contemporary with the discovery, and the century immediately following, the aboriginal inhabitants of Cuba were a generous, gentle, hospitable people, by no means energetic, but heartily cordial and courteous to the strangers who reached their shores. The mildness of their climate did not stimulate them to much activity in cultivation of the soil, because tropical fruits and vegetables came with scarcely an effort on the part of the natives. Their implements and utensils were crude and their life simple.
The system of government was by no means complicated. The island was divided into nine independent principalities, each under a Cacique, all living in harmony, and warfare being almost unknown. Their religion was a peaceful one, without human sacrifices or cannibalism, but the priests had great power through their pretense of influence with spirits good and evil.
Of all the people discovered by the Spanish in their colonization of the western hemisphere, the Cubans were the most tractable to the influences of Christianity so far as their willingness to accept the doctrines was concerned. Christianity, as practiced by the Spanish conquerors, was scarcely that of the highest type of the faith, and the inducements to accept it were somewhat violent. Nevertheless it must be noted that it is from Spanish sources this testimony as to the docility of the Cuban natives comes. Under these circumstances it becomes a magnified crime that the Spanish conquerors absolutely exterminated the hundreds of thousands of native Cubans whom they found at the time of the discovery, and that within little more than a century, there was absolutely not a trace of native stock to be found anywhere in the island.
When Columbus first rested his eyes on the island of Cuba it seemed to him an enchanted land. He was charmed with its lofty mountains, its beautiful rivers, and its blossoming groves, and in his account of the voyage he said: “Everything is green as April in Andalusia. The singing of the birds is such that it seems as if one would never desire to depart. There are flocks of parrots that obscure the sun. There are trees of a thousand species, each having its particular fruit, and all of marvelous flavor.”
Columbus was first of the opinion that he had found an island, but after following the shores for many miles he concluded that it was a continent. He retained the latter belief until his death, for it was not until 1508 that the island was circumnavigated, when it was discovered that it was of about the same area as England. In a subsequent expedition he reached the coast of South America, but he had no appreciation of the magnitude of that continent, and to him Cuba was the grandest of his discoveries in the New World.
Cuba was twice visited by Columbus after its discovery, in April, 1494, and again in 1502, and these visits but confirmed his first opinion regarding the salubrity of the climate and the wealth of the soil. His sailors wrested from the natives large sums of gold and silver, and this led to the mistaken belief that mines of great richness were within their grasp.
Spain’s heartless treatment of Columbus.
Biography furnishes no parallel to the life of Columbus. Great men there have been who have met with injustice and disappointments, but there is perhaps no other instance of a man whom disappointments and injustice did not dishearten and disgust; who had his greatness recognized in his lifetime, and yet was robbed of the rewards that it entitled him to.
It is probable that before his death Columbus confided his belief in the wealth to be found in Cuba to his son Diego Columbus, for in 1511 the latter fitted out an expedition for the purpose of colonizing the island. This company consisted of about 300 men, under Diego Velasquez, who had accompanied the great explorer on his second voyage. The first settlement was made at Baracoa, in the extreme eastern section, and this village was regarded as the capital of the colony for several years. In the meantime extensive settlements had been made by the Spaniards in the island of Jamaica, and in 1514 the towns of Santiago and Trinidad were founded on the southern coast of Cuba, in order that the inhabitants of the two colonies might be brought into closer communication. As immigration increased, other towns of importance sprung up, and the island became the base for the various operations against Mexico. Baracoa grew largely in population, and the towns of Puerto Principe and Sancti Espiritus were established in the central section, and San Juan de los Remedios on the north coast. In July, 1515, the city of San Cristobal de la Habana was planted, deriving its name from the great Discoverer, but this name was transferred in 1519 to the present capital, and the original town was called Batabano.
In 1518 the capital was fixed at Baracoa, which had by this time become a city of considerable importance, and the diocese of the colony. In 1522 both the seat of government and the bishopric were removed to Santiago de Cuba, In 1538 Havana was reduced to ashes by a French privateer; and to prevent a similar disaster in future, the Castillo de la Fuerza, a fortress which still exists, was built by Fernando de Soto, governor of Cuba, and afterwards famous for his explorations in the southern and western portions of North America, as well as for the discovery of the Mississippi.
Using a modern expression, this great fortress, added to her almost perfect harbor, gave Havana a wonderful “boom,” and the city experienced a remarkable growth. The Spanish merchantmen were actively employed in carrying the wealth of Mexico to the Peninsula, and Havana was a convenient port for them to secure supplies of provisions and water. In 1549 Gonzales Perez de Angulo was appointed governor of the island, and he was so impressed with the beauties of the city, that he chose it as his residence. Several of his successors followed his example, and in 1589 it was legally made the capital of Cuba.
Early government of Cuba.
The early records of the island were kept in so imperfect a manner that it is not possible to give an accurate account of the early governors and their lieutenants. It is certain, however, that the seat of government was at Santiago de Cuba, and that Havana and other towns of minor importance were ruled by lieutenants. In 1538, Hernando de Soto, adelantado of Florida, and also governor of Cuba, landed at Santiago, and remained a few days before proceeding to the mainland. On his departure he left the government of the island in charge of a lady, Dona Isabel de Bobadilla, and gave her for a colleague Don Juan de Rojas, who had at one time been lieutenant governor of Havana. It is from this date that the gradual transference of the seat of power from Santiago to Havana may be said to have arisen.
Don Antonio de Chavez assumed the government in 1547, and he it was who gave Havana its first regular supply of water, bringing it a distance of about six miles from the river Chorrera.
The early settlers devoted themselves principally to the raising of cattle, paying very little attention to agricultural pursuits, or in fact to any means of livelihood that called for manual labor. Much time and money was wasted in explorations for gold and silver, but these were invariably unsuccessful, for while the precious metals have occasionally been found in the island, the quantity has never been sufficient to repay the labor of the search.
A letter written by Columbus.
Nothing more interesting for the conclusion of this chapter can be offered than Columbus’ own account of his first view of the island of Cuba. It is as follows
“When I reached Juana, I followed its coast to the westward, and found it so large that I thought it must be mainland, the province of Cathay; and as I found neither towns nor villages on the sea coast, but only some hamlets, with the inhabitants of which I could not hold conversation, because they all immediately fled, I kept on the same route, thinking that I could not fail to light upon some large cities or towns. At length, after the proceeding of many leagues, and finding that nothing new presented itself, and that the coast was leading me northwards (which I wished to avoid, because the winter had already set in, and it was my intention to move southwards; and because moreover the winds were contrary), I resolved not to wait for a change in the weather, but to return to a certain harbor which I had remarked, and from which I sent two men ashore to ascertain whether there was any king or large cities in that part. They journeyed for three days, and found countless small hamlets, with numberless inhabitants, but with nothing like order; they therefore returned. In the meantime I had learned from some other Indians, whom I had seized, that this land was certainly an island; accordingly, I followed the coast eastward for a distance of 107 leagues, where it ended in a cape. From this cape I saw another island to the eastward, at a distance of eighteen leagues from the former, to which I gave the name of La Espanola. Thither I went and followed its northern coast, (just the same as I had done with the coast of Juana), 118 full miles due east. This island, like all others, is extraordinarily large, and this one extremely so. In it are many seaports, with which none that I know in Christendom can bear comparison, so good and capacious that it is a wonder to see. The lands are high, and there are many lofty mountains, with which the islands of Teneriffe cannot be compared. They are all most beautiful, of a thousand different shapes, accessible, and covered with trees of a thousand kinds, of such great height that they seem to reach the skies. I am told
Spain’s black historical record.
Present Men of Prominence Are Types of Those Who Were Infamous Years Ago—Roman Rule in Spain—Weakness of Spanish Power of Resistance—Discoveries in America—Horrors of the Inquisition— Spanish Rule in Holland—Expulsion of the Moors—Loss of American Colonies—Later History of Spain.
The signal fact that will present itself to the student of Spanish history is that from the earliest times the country has been in a continual state of conflict, internal, with its colonies, and with other nations; and seldom has it been a war of defense. In almost every instance Spain has been the aggressor. The Spaniard has ever been perfidious, avaricious, ferocious. In his veins still flows the blood of Ferdinand, of Torquemada, and of Philip II. Weyler is a prototype of Alva, and in Blanco we find another Antonio de Mendoza. Spain is the China of modern Europe. Her spirit is still the spirit of the inquisition. Her policy is not to conciliate, but to coerce; not to treat justly, but to rob and enslave; and her dependence is the ignorance and superstition of her people.
All reforms wrung from rulers must first be baptized in blood, and it is possible that the end of the present century may see a new nation, built on the ruins of the old, which will be a credit to civilization, instead of a disgrace.
Roman rule in Spain.
Prior to the first war between Rome and Carthage, which ended 241 BC, there is little or no authentic information regarding the history of the country now known to the world as Spain. To the ancients it was a land of mystery and enchantment, the home of the setting sun; and Iberia, as they called it, was but a name for an indefinite extent of territory in the far west, peopled by barbarous Celts and Iberians, with a few Phoenician settlements, for the purposes of trade, on its southern coasts.
At the close of the first Punic war, Hamilcar Barca, at the head of a Carthaginian host, crossed the strait of Gibraltar and commenced the conquest which his son Hannibal completed, and which resulted in the undisputed supremacy of Carthage throughout almost all of Spain. This brings us to 218 B. C. and marks the beginning of the second Punic war, when the Roman legions first entered Spain. After a struggle which lasted for thirteen years the Carthaginians were completely routed, and the country was conquered by the arms of Rome. It was many years, however, before the inhabitants were really subdued, but eventually they became more completely Romanized than any province beyond the limits of Italy. When brought under the iron rule of the Empire they were forced to desist from the intestinal wars in which it had been their habit to indulge, and adopting the language, laws and manners of their conquerors, they devoted themselves to industrial pursuits, and increased remarkably both in wealth and numbers. Their fertile fields formed for a considerable time the granary of Rome, and from the metal-veined mountains an immense amount of gold and silver flowed into Roman coffers. However, these were not voluntary offerings of the natives. They were compelled to labor in the mines for the benefit of strangers, and thus Spain, in the early ages, was the type of Spanish America in the fifteenth and succeeding centuries, with the difference that in the first case the Spaniards were the slaves, and in the second they were the slave-holders.
For more than 300 years Spain remained under Roman rule, until in 409 ad, hordes of barbarians crossed the Pyrenees and swept over the Peninsula. Suevi, Alani and Vandals ravaged with equal fury the cities and the open country, and brought the inhabitants to the lowest depths of misery. They were finally subjugated by a Visigothic host, and in 415, Walia, a war-like and ambitious chief, established the West-Gothic kingdom in Spain, on the ruins of the old Roman province. Walia concluded a treaty with the Emperor Honorius, and, putting himself at the head of the brave Goths, in a three-years’ war he destroyed or drove the barbarians from the land. Spain, thus reconquered, was nominally subject to Rome, but soon became really independent, and began to be the seat of a Christian civilization. This West-Gothic kingdom lasted for about three centuries, from 418 to 711, when it fell before the Moorish invasion.
Weakness of Spanish powers of resistance.
Few things in history are more remarkable than the ease with which Spain, a country naturally fitted for defense, was subdued by a mere handful of invaders. The misgovernment of the Visigoths, the internal factions and jealousies, and the discontent of numerous classes, notably the Jews, co-operated to facilitate the conquest and to weaken the power of resistance. These conquerors were of the Mohammedan faith, but while they were united by religion, they were of different races. Besides the Moors there were the Arabs, the Egyptians and the Syrians, and when the task of conquest was achieved, and the need for unity removed, quarrels arose between them. So difficult was it to prevent these quarrels, that it was found necessary to subdivide the conquered territory, and to allot separate settlements to the different tribes.
During the period of Moorish domination a number of small independent kingdoms were formed in opposition to Moslem rule. These comprised Castile, Leon, Navarre and Aragon, and sometimes separately, sometimes in combination, they were in constant war with the common enemy. The age of the great crusades came, and all Christendom was absorbed in the struggle against the infidel, both in the East and West. Spain, like Palestine, had its crusading orders, which vied with the Templars and the Hospitallers both in wealth and military distinction. The decisive battle was fought in July, 1212, when the combined forces of Castile, Leon, Navarre, Aragon and Portugal met the Mohammedan army, and gained the most celebrated victory ever obtained by the Christians over their Moslem foes, the latter losing, according to the account transmitted to the pope, 100,000 killed and 50,000 prisoners. The king of Grenada was speedily forced to become a vassal of Castile, and from this period all danger from Moorish rule was over.
Following this time until the different kingdoms became as one, there is nothing in their history deserving a detailed account. The history of Spain as a united state dates from the union of Castile and Aragon by the marriage of Isabella and Ferdinand, the respective rulers of those kingdoms, in 1469. Grenada, the last remaining possession of the Moors, fell before the Spanish forces in 1492, and Navarre was acquired in 1512.
Discoveries in America.
The year 1492, during the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, witnessed the discovery of America. Spain had become consolidated into one empire from the Pyrenees to the strait of Gibraltar, and civil wars were at an end. Maritime exploration was the task of the age, and under the patronage of Isabella, Columbus planted the flag of Spain in the West Indies. This grand achievement led to the opening of a splendid continent, teeming with riches, for Spanish adventure and despoliation. In 1498, Columbus landed on the continent of South America, and in a few years the entire western coast was explored by subsequent adventurers. In 1512, Ponce de Leon discovered Florida, and the following year, Balboa crossed the Isthmus of Darien, and gazed for the first time upon the Pacific.
The history of Spain, in connection with its discovery and settlement of the New World, is one long record of revolting crime. New England was settled by a people who came to turn the wilderness into a city, but the Spanish invaders went to the southern shores to turn the cities of the natives into a wilderness. In Mexico and Peru they found a civilization the equal and in many respects the superior of their own. With cross and sword in hand, in the name of religion, but with the lust for gold in their hearts, their coming was invariably a signal for every kind of attack that malignity could devise or avarice invent. Wherever they went, desolation followed them. They looted the towns, pillaged the cities, murdered the people; they burned alike the hovels of the poor, and the palaces of the rich.
The value of the treasure that Spain secured from Mexico and Peru never can be known accurately; but it is certain that within sixty years from the time of the landing of Columbus she had advanced to the position of the richest and most powerful nation in Europe. Victorious in Africa and Italy, Philip II, who was then the reigning monarch, carried war into France, and ruled in Germany, as well as in those provinces now known as Belgium and Holland. The money necessary to carry on these vast wars of conquest was undoubtedly acquired in the New World. When Cortez approached the palace of Montezuma, the King’s messengers met him, bearing presents from their lord. These gifts included 200 pounds of gold for the commander, and two pounds of gold for each of his army. Prescott, in his “Conquest of Peru,” says that when the Spanish soldiers captured the capital of that country they spent days in melting down the golden vessels which they found in temples and palaces. On one voyage a single ship carried to Spain $15,500,000 in gold, besides vast treasures of silver and jewels.
The horrors of the inquisition.
The Inquisition was a tribunal in the Roman Catholic church for the discovery, repression and punishment of heresy and unbelief. It originated in Rome when Christianity was established as the religion of the Empire, but its history in Spain and her dependencies has absorbed almost entirely the real interest in the painful subject.
As an ordinary tribunal, similar to those of other countries, it had existed there from an early period. Its functions, however, in those times were little more than nominal; but early in the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella, on account of the alleged discovery of a plot among the Jews to overthrow the government, an application was made to the Pope to permit its re-organization. But in reviving the tribunal, the Crown assumed to itself the right of appointing the inquisitors, and of controlling their entire action. For this reason Catholic writers regard the Spanish inquisition as a state tribunal, and refer to the bull of the Pope, Sixtus IV., protesting against it. Notwithstanding this protest, however, the Spanish Crown maintained its assumption. Inquisitors were appointed, and in 1483 the tribunal commenced its terrible career, under Thomas de Torquemada.
The inquisition arrested on suspicion, tortured for confession, and then punished with fire. One witness brought the victim to the rack, two to the flames. The prisoner was not confronted with his accuser, nor were their names ever made known to him. The court was held in a gloomy dungeon at midnight, a dim light gleamed from smoking torches, and the grand inquisitor, enveloped in a black robe, glared at his victim through holes cut in the hood. Before the examination, the accused, whether man, maid or matron, was stripped and stretched upon the rack, where tendons could be strained without cracking, bones crushed without breaking and the body tortured without dying.
When the prisoner was found guilty, his tongue was cut out, so that he could neither speak nor swallow. On the morning of the execution a breakfast of rare delicacies was placed before the sufferer, and with ironical invitation he was urged to enjoy his last repast. Then the prisoner was led to the funeral pyre, where an address was given, lauding the inquisition, condemning heresy, and commanding obedience to the Pope and the Emperor. Then, while hymns were sung, blazing fagots were piled about the victim, until his body was reduced to a heap of ashes.
Some conception of the appalling cruelty of the inquisition under Torquemada may be formed from the statement that during the sixteen years of his tenure of office nearly 10,000 persons were condemned to the flames, and the property of 97,000 others was confiscated.
Spanish rule in Holland.
Horrible as the atrocities of the inquisition were in the mother country, it is doubtful if they ever reached the acme of savage cruelty that they attained during the period when Spain was seeking to strengthen the fetters with which she nominally held Holland in her grasp. The Spanish government, from the time when it first acquired a place among nations, has never been satisfied with a reasonable tribute from its dependencies. Its plan ever has been to exact all, and leave nothing to supply more than a miserable existence. So it was in the middle of the sixteenth century, when Philip II., greedy of the treasures of Holland, determined to spoil them of their wealth, and planned to establish the inquisition among them by the sword.
The duke of Alva, already famous for his harshness and bigotry, was named commander of the forces, with almost unlimited powers. He entered the Netherlands with about 20,000 tried troops, ready for cruelties, and all hopes of peace or mercy fled before them. There was a great and desperate exodus of the inhabitants; thousands took refuge in England, Denmark and Germany, and despair and helplessness alone remained to greet the cold Spaniard and his train of orthodox executioners. The Council of Troubles—the “Blood-tribunal”—was immediately established, and the land was filled with blood. In a short time he totally annihilated every privilege of the people, and with unrelenting cruelty put multitudes of them to death.
The more the peasants rebelled, the crueler were the methods of Alva. Men were tortured, beheaded, roasted before slow fires, pinched to death with hot tongs, broken on the wheel, flayed alive. On one occasion the skins of leaders were stripped from their living bodies, and stretched upon drums for beating the funeral march of brethren to the gallows. During the course of six years Alva brought charges of heresy and treason against 30,000 inhabitants, and made the infamous boast that, in addition to the multitudes killed in battle and massacred after victory, he had consigned 18,000 persons to the executioner.
This unholy war with the Netherlands lasted with occasional cessations of hostilities for eighty years, and during its progress Spain buried 350,000 of her sons and allies in Holland, spent untold millions in the attempted destruction of freedom, and sunk from the first power in Europe, an empire whose proud boast it had been that upon her possessions the sun never set, to the level of a fourth-rate country, cruel in government, superstitious in religion, and ever an enemy to progress.
Expulsion of the Moors.
In addition to the terrible drain upon the country from losses in war, the expulsion of the Jews and the Moors was productive of the direst results. In 1609 all the Moriscoes were ordered to depart from the Peninsula within three days. The penalty of death was declared against all who failed to obey, and against any Christians who should shelter the recalcitrant. The edict was obeyed, but it was a blow from which Spain never recovered. The Moriscoes were the back-bone of the industrial population, not only in trade and manufactures, but also in agriculture. The haughty and indolent Spaniards had willingly left what they considered degrading employment to their inferiors. The Moors had introduced into Spain the cultivation of sugar, cotton, rice and silk. In manufactures and commerce they had shown superiority to the Christian inhabitants, and many of their products were eagerly sought for by other countries. All these advantages were sacrificed to an insane desire for religious unity.
The reigns of Philip III. and Philip IV. witnessed a fearful acceleration in the decline of Spain by the contests with the Dutch and with the German Protestants in the Thirty Years’ War, the wars with France, and the rebellion of Portugal in 1640, which had been united to Spain by Philip II. The reign of Charles II. was still more unfortunate, and his death was the occasion of the war of the Spanish succession.
Under Charles III. (1759-1788), a wise and enlightened prince, the second great revival of the country commenced, and trade and commerce began to show signs of returning activity. Previous to his accession to the throne, Spain appeared to be a corpse, over which the powers of Europe could contend at will. Suddenly men were astounded to see that country rise with renewed vigor to play once more an important part on the international stage. Commerce and agriculture were developed, native manufactures were encouraged in every way possible, and an attempt was made to remove all prejudices against trade, among the nobles. Meritorious as these reforms were, it would give a false impression to represent them as wholly successful. The regeneration of Spain was by no means accomplished, and many of the abuses which had been growing for centuries, survived the attempt to effect their annihilation. One of the chief causes of this failure was the corruption and ignorance of the lower officials; and a large portion of the population remained, to a great extent, sunk in sloth and superstition, in spite of all that was done in their behalf.
During the inglorious reign of Charles IV. (1788-1808), who left the management, of affairs in the hands of the incapable Godoy, (at once the queen’s lover and the king’s prime minister), a war broke out with Britain, which was productive of nothing but disaster to the Spaniards. Charles finally abdicated in favor of his son, the Prince of Asturias, who ascended the throne as Ferdinand VII. Forced by Napoleon to resign all claims to the Spanish crown, Ferdinand became the prisoner of the French in the year of his accession, and in the same year, Joseph, the brother of the French emperor, was declared King of Spain, and set out for Madrid to assume the kingdom thus assigned him. But Spanish loyalty was too profound to be daunted even by the awe-inspiring power of the great Napoleon. For the first time he found himself confronted, not by terrified and selfish rulers, but by an infuriated people. The rising on Spain commenced the popular movement which ultimately proved fatal to his power.
In July, 1808, England, on solicitation, made peace with Spain, recognized Ferdinand VII. as king, and sent an army to aid the Spanish insurrection. Joseph invaded the country on July 9, defeated the Spaniards at Rio Seco, and entered Madrid on the 20th. But the defeat of Dupont at Baylen by the veteran Spanish general Castanos somewhat altered the position of affairs, and Joseph, after a residence of ten days in his capital, was compelled to evacuate it.
Meanwhile Sir Arthur Wellesley, afterwards Duke of Wellington, at the head of the British auxiliary force, had landed at Mondego bay, and began the Peninsular war by defeating the French at Roliza and Vimiero. In November, 1808, Napoleon, who had been preceded by Ney with 100,000 men, entered Spain and assumed the command. For a time his armies were completely successful. In less than a week the Spanish forces were broken through and scattered, and Joseph was returned to Madrid. The victory was a short-lived one, however, for, in April, 1809, General Wellesley arrived in Portugal and at once commenced operations. By dint of masterly generalship and bold enterprise he finally succeeded in driving the French from the country. Napoleon, loth to lose his hold in the Peninsula, sent Soult, his most trusted general, to stop the ingress of the British into France, but the battles of the Pyrenees, (24th July 1st August, 1813), and of the Nivelle, Orthez, and Toulouse, in the beginning of 1814, brought to a victorious conclusion this long and obstinate contest.
Loss of American colonies.
After the convulsions it had endured, Spain required a period of firm but conciliatory government, but the ill fate of the country gave the throne at this crisis one of her worst rulers. Ferdinand VII. had no conception of the duties of a sovereign; his public conduct was regulated by pride and superstition, and his private life was stained by the grossest dissipations.
For six years Spain groaned under a “Reign of terror,” and isolated revolts only served as the occasion for fresh cruelties. The finances were squandered in futile expeditions to recover the South American colonies, which had taken advantage of Napoleon’s conquest of Spain to establish their independence. In his straits for money, Ferdinand ventured to outrage national sentiment by selling Florida to the United States in 1819. Louisiana had been ceded to France in 1803, and when Mexico gained her independence in 1822, the last of the territory under Spanish rule in North America was lost to her.
The reign of Ferdinand’s daughter, Isabella II., was disturbed by the Carlist rebellion in 1834-1839, in which England aided the Queen with an army commanded by Sir De Lacy Evans. Spain, under Isabella II., presents a dismal picture of faction and intrigue. Policies of state had forced her into a distasteful marriage with her cousin, Francis of Assisi, and she sought compensation in sensual indulgences, endeavoring to cover the dissoluteness of her private life by a superstitious devotion to religion. She had to contend with continual revolts, and was finally compelled, in 1868, to abdicate the throne and fly to France for her life.
A provisional government was formed with Serrano as President, and a new constitution was formed, by which an hereditary king was to rule, in conjunction with a senate and a popular chamber. The throne was offered to Amadeus of Aosta, the second son of Victor Emmanuel, in 1870, and he made an honest effort to discharge the difficult duties of the office. But he found the task too hard, and too distasteful, and resigned in 1873. A provisional republic was then formed, of which Castelar was the guiding spirit. But the Spaniards, trained to regard monarchy with superstitious reverence, had no sympathy with republican institutions. Don Carlos seized the opportunity to revive the claim of inalienable male succession, and raised the standard of revolt. Castelar finally threw up the office in disgust, and the administration was undertaken by a committee of officers. Anarchy was suppressed with a strong hand, but it was obvious that order could only be restored by reviving the monarchy. Foreign princes were no longer thought of, and Alfonso XII., the young son of the exiled Isabella, was restored to the throne in 1874. His first task was to terminate the Carlist war, which still continued in the North, and this was successfully accomplished in 1876. He died in 1885, and the regency was entrusted to his widow, Christina of Austria. On May 17th, 1886, a posthumous son was born, who is now the titular King of Spain.
Buccaneering and the warfare in the Spanish main.
Spain’s Stolen Treasures from Mexico and Peru Tempt Her European Rivals—The Spanish Main the Scene of Piratical Plundering for Many Years—Havana and Other Cities Threatened—Great Britain Takes Santo Domingo—American Troops from the British Colonies Capture Havana—Victory on Land and Sea Is Saddened by Many Deaths of Brave Americans from Fever—Lessons of the First Capture of Havana.
After the acquisition of rich and populous countries in the western hemisphere had begun, Spain discovered that her new-found wealth was not to be hers without a struggle. From the harbors of Mexico and Peru, Spanish galleons sailed with their loads of treasure, stolen from the Montezumas and the Incas. Year after year, rich argosies, laden with gold and silver to replenish the extravagant treasury of the Spanish crown, crossed the seas. The Atlantic ocean, the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean sea were furrowed with the keels of Spanish fleets, at a time when the European nations scarcely maintained the pretense of friendship with one another.
It was hardly to be expected that these rich prizes should go unmolested. England and France knew quite well that they were plundered from the native treasuries of the new world, and no reason appeared why Spain in turn should not be robbed of her plunder. So the Spanish Main, the Caribbean sea, the Gulf of Mexico, and the adjacent waters, became the haunt of buccaneers and pirates, some under flags of European nations, and others under the black flag. Desperate fights were the lot of almost every Spanish galleon that sailed those seas, and fabulous prizes sometimes were taken under the skull and crossbones. Spanish men of war sailed back and forth to convoy the merchant fleets, but their protection was not always sufficient. Pirates could obtain frigates with guns as good as those of Spain, and with the temptation of wealth before them they braved conflict whenever it was necessary.
The harbors of Key West, the Dry Tortugas and others along the Florida keys, as well as many of those in the Bahamas, the West Indies and the Antilles, were the haunts of buccaneers and privateers who careened their ships on shore for repairs, or held high revel on the beaches after their triumph over some Spanish treasure fleet. Those were bloody days, full of dramatic excitement. From them some of the most notable writers of fiction have drawn their tales, which entertain readers of to-day.
What was done with all the gold thus garnered in sea fights before it reached the ports of Spain, is hard to know. Sometimes mysterious strangers appeared in the seaport towns of France and England and even the American colonies in their younger days, to spend money lavishly for a short time and then disappear as mysteriously as they came. These men were reputed to be pirate chiefs seeking relaxation from their customary life. Others of the buccaneers hoarded their wealth in hiding places known only to themselves, the secret of which must have died with them, while the gold remains undiscovered. All through the Florida keys and the West India islands, as well as along the coasts of Georgia and the Carolinas, traditions still exist in relation to these treasure hoards. Sanguine people are still digging in the sands of these beaches, in the hope that some day they will unearth a sea chest full of Spanish doubloons, or the golden ornaments stripped from Aztec idols. Some finds indeed have been made, but those who make them are not apt to reveal the secret which might guide another to a successful search.
Piratical raids trouble Havana.
Having discovered the wealth that could be obtained by attacks upon the Spanish fleets, the pirates began to think of the cities which were themselves the source of much of this wealth. The result of this was that they began to make descents upon the coasts, not only of Cuba, but of the neighboring islands of Jamaica and Santo Domingo. The expense occasioned by the attempts to suppress these incursions became so great toward the end of the sixteenth century, that it became necessary to impose a special tax to cover it.
Fortresses at all the fortified harbors were improved, and the power of the military officials increased as their importance increased, and that of the civil governors diminished. It was as a direct result of these conditions that the office of Captain General was created, in which the governor shared military and civil authority alike. Havana fortifications were hastened to completion and the preparations for defense began, which never have been materially improved to this day. The three fortresses of El Morro, La Punta and La Cabana were built before the end of the sixteenth century and still were standing as the most effective defenses of Havana when our war with Spain began.
It was during the same period, that African negroes were first introduced into Cuba. Slavery had proved so severe upon the aborigines, that their numbers had almost reached the vanishing point, and there was a lack of sufficient labor for the cultivation of tobacco and sugar cane, the chief products of Spanish agriculture in the island. It was to promote the production of these new luxuries that the African slave trade was begun. A royal license from the King of Spain was obtained to guarantee the privilege of importing negroes.
Then began that foul commerce which was another black stain on the history of Spanish colonization of the western hemisphere. Spanish ships descended upon the African coasts and kidnapped thousands of negroes for service in the Cuban cane and tobacco fields. The horrors of the trade cannot be magnified and are too distressing for repetition. It is sufficient to say that in Havana it is understood that the harbor was free from sharks which now swarm there, until they followed the slave ships from the African coasts in multitudes, for the feast of slaves who were thrown overboard on the long voyage. Scores and hundreds of Africans died during the journey, from the hardships they were compelled to undergo, and Havana harbor itself was the last grave of many of these hapless ones.
Great Britain threatens Spanish possessions.
It was just after the middle of the seventeenth century and during the rule of Oliver Cromwell in England, that the Spanish governors of Cuba began to fear an attack by a British fleet. A squadron sailed in 1655 with the design of capturing Jamaica, a purpose which was easily accomplished. That island was taken by Great Britain, the Spanish forces defending it were utterly defeated, the governor was killed, and many of the inhabitants removed, in consequence, to Cuba. From Jamaica the same fleet sailed for Havana, but the attack was repulsed and the ships abandoned the attempt. Except for the encroachments of the French upon the island of Santo Domingo, and the continual piratical incursions of French and English buccaneers, the Spanish in the West Indies were not threatened with any more hostilities except by their own internal dissensions until 1762. At that time Spain and England were at war, Spain in alliance with the French, and it was decided by the British government that Cuba was a vulnerable possession and a valuable one that ought to be taken.
The capture of Havana by forces under the English flag fills little space in the history of England and Spain, because of the magnitude of the interests involved elsewhere. It is almost forgotten in America, in spite of the bearing of all its contemporary incidents upon the rapidly approaching revolution, and yet it was an achievement of the colonial troops and consequently the first assault upon Cuba by Americans.
It was an event of the first importance in its own day and contained lessons of the first moment for the guidance of those who had to plan the conduct of the war against Spain in 1898. It proved that American troops under efficient officers could take the field with success against double their number of Spaniards fully provisioned and strongly intrenched. It proved that Havana could be successfully assaulted by a combined military and naval force, regardless of her picturesque but obsolete fortifications. Spain’s lack of administrative ability in the later war as well as in the first, destroying any advantage to be derived from balls and cannon. On the other side it proved that Americans had to look forward to a considerable loss of life as a result of climatic conditions, if they attempted to conduct hostile operations in Cuba during the summer season.
The utter incapacity for straightforward, pertinacious fighting, which both Napoleon and the Duke of Wellington found in the Spanish army during the Peninsular war, was as conspicuous fifty years before, when the Americans took Havana, and may rightly be argued as perpetually inherent in the national character; for though the annals of Spain are filled with instances of individual courage of the first rank, demoralization sets in as soon as they come together in numbers in the face of a civilized foe. Their chief maneuver in the course of a century and a half, has been just plain running away. The victorious Wellington, seeing his Spanish allies running for dear life just after he had whipped the opposing French line in the last battle of the peninsular campaign, was moved to remark that he had seen many curious things in his life, but never before 20,000 men engaged in a foot race.
Yet the fight made by the Spaniards in Havana during the attack of the British and colonial forces in 1762 is the one notable instance of a prolonged struggle between men who speak English and men who speak Spanish. History may be searched in vain, either in the old or new world, for a defense as able in point of generalship or as stubborn in resistance as the Spaniards made at the siege of Havana. In all other cases, from the Elizabethan campaigns in Holland to the war with Mexico, the men educated in the Spanish school of arms have been content to spend their energies upon a single assault and then flee, sometimes even when the odds were greatly in their favor.
The English Armada left Portsmouth on March 5th, 1762, under the command of the gallant Admiral Pococke and Lord Albemarle, the force moving in seven divisions. It consisted of nineteen ships of the line, eighteen frigates or smaller men-of-war, and 150 transports containing about 10,000 soldiers, nearly all infantry. At the Island of Hayti, then called Hispanola, the British were joined by the successful expedition from Martinique. Together they sat down before Havana, July 6th, 1762.
Spain’s intellectual dry rot.
Spain, suffering, as it suffers to-day, from intellectual dry rot, had known for weeks of the intended beleaguerment. Then, as now, nothing adequate was done to meet it. The Governor of Havana, the Marquis de Gonzalez, was a gallant soldier, as he was to prove; but that ounce of prevention which is proverbially worth more than the pound of cure, was not taken by him, and the British found the fortifications in a partially ruinous condition, and the fourteen ships of the line which were lying in the harbor before the city in such a state that they could hardly be called in commission. The Spanish army of defense numbered 27,000 men, and was in better condition; but the Spanish sailors were utterly demoralized by the granting of too much shore liberty, and the best use the Spaniard could put his fighting ships to was by sinking them at the entrance to the anchorage to prevent the entrance of the British fleet. Once the enemy was before the city, however, all was activity. The fortifications, which were too newly erected to be quite incapable of repair, were set in order, the guns of Morro Castle and of the fort known as the Puntal, across from it, were trained on the advancing foe, and the Spanish ships were sunk, as has been said.
Those familiar with the history of English administrative methods during this period will find little to choose between them and the methods of Spain. The season of the year most unwholesome to the inhabitants of a temperate climate had already set in, with all its train of pestilences, when the British arrived. Though deluged by the tremendous rains of the tropics from day to day, the water supply was wholly insufficient, and the little obtainable was so tainted as to make its use fraught with danger. There was no pilot who knew the roadstead in order to lead the ships against the Morro and the Puntal for many days. In throwing up the parallels and approaches to the walls of the city on the landward side, the soldiers found such scarcity of earth, the blanket over the rocks being of the thinnest sort, that this necessary material for covering an attack had to be brought from a distance. Then, too, it was charged with the germs of disease, and all who handled it suffered extremely. Despite all the precautions of the officers, the sanitary condition surrounding the camp was horrible, and the troops died like dogs.
Yankees in Cuba.
Meanwhile there was a large force of British regulars in North America, stationed there ever since the fall of the French empire in the new world in 1760. Four thousand of these soldiers were gathered in New York City. To them the colonies of East and West Jersey added a regiment of 500 men, New York another of 800, while Lyman raised a full thousand in Connecticut. When these, too, had been assembled in New York, Lyman was made Brigadier General of the colonial troops,
Americans were wrecked.
Just before the arrival of these welcome reinforcements on July 20, some English merchantmen had come along with cargoes of cotton bags, which were pressed into immediate use for the lines which were now closing around Havana; and in the ships were also found several pilots. Then the forces from the North came amidst general rejoicings, but without Putnam and 500 of his Yankees. These, in a transport which was skirting the dangerous coast much too closely, were shipwrecked on one of the treacherous shoals thereabouts. Putnam, with true New England fertility of resource, extemporized rafts from the fragments of the vessel and got all his men ashore without the loss of a life. They landed near the City of Carthagena, threw up breastworks, and were found ready to repel a force of thousands of Spaniards when the ships from before Havana arrived for their rescue, their own companions wisely pressing on and sending aid back from the headquarters.
The American troops went bravely to work, engaging themselves chiefly with the undermining of one of the walls. To reach this it was necessary for them to pass along a narrow eminence where they were in plain view and easy range of the Spaniards. A number were lost in this dangerous enterprise, but their valor was dimmed neither by this nor by the still heavier losses which came upon them through the diseases prevalent in every portion of the British camp. Though men of such hardiness that they must have been equal in resisting power to the British, their losses were comparatively much greater, proving that they occupied positions of greater danger, either from bullets or the fevers of the region.
Morro castle taken.
Five days after the arrival of the reinforcements, Lord Albemarle judged himself sufficiently strong to assault Morro Castle, and the word was accordingly given. The sunken ships were blown up early on the morning of July 25, and the British ships sailed into the fury of the Spanish cannon, belching shot from all along the shore. The big guns of the ships could not be elevated sufficiently to silence the fire from Morro Castle, and this was accordingly left to be carried by assault. The Puntal was silenced, troops landed, and after five days of ferocious fighting, in which the British and American losses were enormous by reason of their exposed position, and where every one concerned exhibited the utmost valor, Morro Castle was carried by the bayonet. The fighting within its walls after an entry had been made was exceedingly fierce. The Marquis of Gonzalez was killed by his own cowardly men for refusing to surrender. The cannon from the other Spanish batteries were turned upon the Morro as soon as the Spanish flag had been lowered, and the British ensign run up in its place; and then the slow and disastrous work of the siege was taken up again.
As the lines grew nearer and nearer, and the last hope of the Spaniard for relief was given up, there was the usual attempt made to buy the attacking party off. Though it would have been a hopeless undertaking at any time, the amount offered for the ransom of the city was so far below the treasure which was known to be in the town that the offer was made a subject for derisive laughter. Fifteen days after Morro Castle had fallen, though the mortality in the trenches was so great that a few weeks more must have seen the abandonment of the enterprise, the city fell, the garrison stipulating for a passage out with all the honors of war, which was freely accorded them, owing to the climatic predicament in which Lord Albemarle found himself. It was also stipulated that private property should be respected. This was strictly observed, though Spain had set repeated examples of giving a captured city over to plunder in the face of a stipulation to the contrary.
August 14, 1762, the British entered, the glory of their victory over such heavy odds even then dimmed by the enormous mortality. It was reckoned that the few days of August had wrought more damage to the invading forces than all the weeks of hard labor and open assault which had gone before. In the city—the Havannah, as it was then called—treasure was found to the amount of $7,000,000, much of it in such shape that there had been abundant time to withdraw it either to Spain or into the interior of the island, had there been any other than Spaniards at the head of affairs.
The occupancy of the British and colonial forces lasted but a few months. Lord Albemarle, with $120,000 of the prize money as his personal share, received notice of the conclusion of the treaty of Paris and withdrew his army to Great Britain. A single ship sufficed to remove the shattered remnant of the soldiers from Connecticut, the Jerseys, and New York. Twenty-three hundred sailed; barely fifty returned. It was a part of the good fortune of America—all of the good fortune, to be exact—which brought Colonel Israel Putnam safely home again, though the paralysis which shortened his labors not many years after the Declaration of Independence was unquestionably due to his exposure to the vertical sun of Cuba and to the poisons of its pestilential coast.
In the hands of George III., then King of England, all this suffering and deprivation amounted to virtually nothing. He was a coward at heart, a man who could not even avail himself of such hardly gained victories. The peace of Paris was signed, and by its terms George yielded up Cuba and the Philippines again to the power that has never ceased to misuse the advantages so obtained.
The belief gained ground in Havana, in 1807, that the English government again contemplated a descent on the island; and measures were taken to put it in a more respectable state of defense, although, from want of funds in the treasury, and the scarcity of indispensable supplies, the prospect of an invasion was sufficiently gloomy. The militia and the troops of the garrison were carefully drilled, and companies of volunteers were formed wherever materials for them could be found. The French, also, not content with mere preparations, made an actual descent on the island, first threatening Santiago, and afterwards landing at Batabano.
The invaders consisted chiefly of refugees from St. Domingo; and their intention seems to have been to take possession with a view to colonize and cultivate a portion of the unappropriated, or at least unoccupied, territory, on the south side of the island, as their countrymen had formerly done in St. Domingo. Without recurring to actual force, the captain-general prevailed on them to take their departure by offering transportation either to St. Domingo or to France.
Commercial development of Cuba.
Efforts of the Early Governors to Encourage Trade—Cultivation
of
Sugar One of the First Industries—Decree
Defining Powers of the
Captain General—Attempted Annexation to
the United States—The
Ostend Manifesto—Its Wonderful Predictions,
in the Light of
Later Events—Exports and Imports Between
Cuba and Spain—The
Future of Commercial Cuba.
The commerce of Cuba has grown in spite of the limitations that have been placed upon it and not because of any encouragement that has been given to it. Columbus called Cuba the most beautiful land that eyes had ever seen. Its resources, granted by a generous nature, have enabled it to recuperate after destructive warfare with a rapidity simply amazing to those accustomed only to the climate and the soil of the temperate zone. The immense industries of Cuba have been hampered from the beginning by Spanish oppression and the fact that they have flourished under such unfavorable conditions is a striking evidence of what may be expected under a policy of encouragement and freedom. Sugar, tobacco, and other tropical products have made fortunes for Cuba every year, only to have them stolen by Spanish officeholders, sent there to plunder all they could get their hands upon. With peace assured, the opportunities for the extension of industries in the “Pearl of the Antilles” will be enormous.
The commercial development of Cuba has come through centuries of disturbance, warfare, and oppression. A simple catalogue of all the evils with which the Cubans have had to contend would fill a volume. All that can be done here is to indicate briefly some of the more notable events in the history of the island after the British conquests and the relinquishment of the prize to the Spanish authorities upon the return of peace. Near the end of the last century there came a period which offered more encouragement to the hope of permanent prosperity in Cuba than had been offered before. The successive governors appointed varied in character, it is true, but several of them were liberal minded, public spirited men who gave to the colony far better administration that it had been accustomed to. One of these was Luis de Las Casas, who imparted a new impulse to the agriculture and commerce of the island. It was under his guidance that trade with the United States began to assume importance, and to his efforts was due the transfer of the remains of Columbus from Santo Domingo to their present resting place in the cathedral at Havana. He encouraged literature, science, the fine arts and the erection of various public charitable and educational institutions. He was the founder of the first public library and the first newspaper which had existed in the island. He showed his ability as an executive by restraining the restless population under the excitement which accompanied the revolution in the neighboring colony of Santo Domingo, which ended by the loss to Spain of that island.
One of the earliest causes of ill feeling between the islanders of Cuba and the people of Spain occurred just at the end of the administration of Las Casas in 1796. In the seventy years prior to that time a great navy yard grew up on the Bay of Havana, and 114 war vessels were built there to convoy the Spanish treasure ships. All at once this flourishing industry was closed on the demand of the ship-builders of Spain that the work should be done in the mother country. As might have been expected, this aroused great indignation among a large number of people in Havana who had been dependent upon the industry.
It was about the same time, or just a hundred years before the outbreak of our war with Spain, that sugar became an important article of general commerce. Even then, however, it was not an article of common consumption, and was held at extravagantly high prices, measured by the present cheapness of the article. Market reports of the time show that the price approximated forty cents a pound, and this at a time when the purchasing power of money was at least twice as great as it is now. As the price has fallen, the product and the consumption have increased, until of late years it has been an enormous source of revenue to the Island of Cuba. When Napoleon Bonaparte abducted the royal family of Spain and deposed the Bourbon dynasty in 1808, every member of the provincial counsel of Cuba took an oath to preserve the island for their legitimate sovereign. The Colonial government immediately declared war against Napoleon and proclaimed Ferdinand VII. as king. It was by this action that the colony earned its title of “The ever-faithful isle,” which has been excellent as a complimentary phrase, but hardly justified by the actual facts. For some years following this action, affairs in the island were in an embarrassing condition, owing to the progress of the Napoleonic wars in Europe, which kept all trade disturbed and Spain in a constant condition of disorder. If it had not been for the fortunate election of one or two of the governors things might have been even worse than they were, and it was considered that Cuba was enjoying quite as much peace and prosperity as were her neighbor colonies and the mother governments of Europe. In 1812 a negro conspiracy broke out and attained considerable success, and as a result of it the Spanish governors began to be more and more severe in their administrations.
Under the influence of the spirit of freedom which was spreading all around them, Cubans became more and more restless. The revolutionary movements in Spanish America had begun in 1810, and after fourteen years of guerrilla warfare, European power had vanished in the Western hemisphere from the Northern boundary of the United States to Cape Horn, except for the Colonies of British Honduras and the Guianas, and a few of the West Indian Islands. In 1821, Santo Domingo became independent, and in the same year Florida came into the possession of the United States. Secret societies, with the purpose of revolution as their motive, began to spring up in Cuba, and the population divided into well-defined factions. There was indeed an attempt at open revolt made in 1823 by one of these societies known as the “Soles De Bolivar,” but it was averted before the actual outbreak came, and those leaders of it who were not able to escape from Cuba were arrested and punished. It was as a result of these successive events that the office of Captain General was created and invested with all the powers of Oriental despotism. The functions of the Captain General were defined by a royal decree of May 28,1825, to the following effect:
His Majesty, the King Our Lord, desiring to obviate the inconveniences that might in extraordinary cases result from a division of command, and from the interferences and prerogatives of the respective officers; for the important end of preserving in that precious island his legitimate sovereign authority and the public tranquillity through proper means, has resolved in accordance with the opinion of his council of ministers to give to your Excellency the fullest authority, bestowing upon you all the powers which by the royal ordinances are granted to the governors of besieged cities. In consequence of this, his Majesty gives to your Excellency the most ample and unbounded power, not only to send away from the island any persons in office, whatever their occupation, rank, class, or condition, whose continuance therein your Excellency may deem injurious, or whose conduct, public or private, may alarm you, replacing them with persons faithful to his Majesty and deserving of all the confidence of your Excellency; but also to suspend the execution of any order whatsoever, or any general provision made concerning any branch of the administration as your Excellency may think most suitable to the Royal Service.
This decree since that time has been substantially the supreme law of Cuba, and has never been radically modified by any concessions except those given as a last and lingering effort to preserve the sovereignty of Spain, when after three years’ progress of the revolution she realized that her colony had slipped away from her authority. The decree quoted in itself offers sufficient justification for the Cuban revolution in the name of liberty.
Attempted annexation to the united states.
During the present century there have been a number of attempts on the part of men prominent in public life, both in the United States and Cuba, to arrange a peaceable annexation by the purchase by this country of the island from Spain. Statesmen of both nations have been of the opinion that such a settlement of the difficulty would be mutually advantageous, and have used every diplomatic endeavor to that end.
During Thomas Jefferson’s term of office, while Spain bowed beneath the yoke of France, from which there was then no prospect of relief, the people of Cuba, feeling themselves imcompetent in force to maintain their independence, sent a deputation to Washington, proposing the annexation of the island to the federal system of North America.
In 1854 President Pearce instructed Wm. L. Marcy, his Secretary of State, to arrange a conference of the Ministers of the United States to England, France and Spain, to be held with a view to the acquisition of Cuba.
The conference met at Ostend on the 9th of October, 1854, and adjourned to Aix-la-Chapelle, where notes were prepared. Mr. Soule, then our Minister to Spain, said in a letter to Mr. Marcy, transmitting the joint report: “The question of the acquisition of Cuba by us is gaining ground as it grows to be more seriously agitated and considered. Now is the moment for us to be done with it, and if it is to bring upon us the calamity of war, let it be now, while the great powers of this continent are engaged in that stupendous struggle which cannot but engage all their strength and tax all their energies as long as it lasts, and may, before it ends, convulse them all. Neither England nor France would be likely to interfere with us. England could not bear to be suddenly shut out of our market, and see her manufactures paralyzed, even by a temporary suspension of her intercourse with us. And France, with the heavy task now on her hands, and when she so eagerly aspires to take her seat as the acknowledged chief of the European family, would have no inducement to assume the burden of another war.”
The result of this conference is so interesting in its application to present conditions that its reproduction is required to make intelligible the whole story of Cuba, and we give it here:
The Ostend manifesto.
Sir: The undersigned, in compliance with the wish expressed by the president in the several confidential despatches you have addressed to us respectively, to that effect, we have met in conference, first at Ostend, in Belgium, on the 9th, 10th, and 11th instant, and then at Aix-la-Chapelle, in Prussia, on the days next following, up to the date hereof.
There has been a full and unreserved interchange of views and sentiments between us, which we are most happy to inform you has resulted in a cordial coincidence of opinion on the grave and important subjects submitted to our consideration.
We have arrived at the conclusion, and are thoroughly convinced that an immediate and earnest effort ought to be made by the government of the United States to purchase Cuba from Spain at any price for which it can he obtained, not exceeding the sum of $...
The proposal should, in our opinion, be made in such a manner as to be presented through the necessary diplomatic forms to the Supreme Constituent Cortes about to assemble. On this momentous question, in which the people, both of Spain and the United States, are so deeply interested, all our proceedings ought to be open, frank and public. They should be of such a character as to challenge the approbation of the world.
We firmly believe that, in the progress of human events, the time has arrived when the vital interests of Spain are as seriously involved in the sale, us those of the United States in the purchase, of the island, and that the transaction will prove equally honorable to both nations.
Under these circumstances we cannot anticipate a failure, unless possibly through the malign influence of foreign powers who possess no right whatever to interfere in the matter.
We proceed to state some of the reasons which have brought us to, this conclusion, and for the sake of clearness, we shall specify them under two distinct heads:
1. The United States ought, if practicable, to purchase Cuba with as little delay as possible.
2. The probability is great that the government and Cortes of Spain will prove willing to sell it, because this would essentially promote the highest and best interests of the Spanish people.
Then, 1. It must be clear to every reflecting mind that, from the peculiarity of its geographical position, and the considerations attendant on it. Cuba is as necessary to the North American republic as any of its present members, and that it belongs naturally to that great family of states of which the Union is the providential nursery.
From its locality it commands the mouth of the Mississippi and the immense and annually increasing trade which must seek this avenue to the ocean.
On the numerous navigable streams, measuring an aggregate course of some thirty thousand miles, which disembogue themselves through this magnificent river into the Gulf of Mexico, the increase of the population within the last ten years amounts to more than that of the entire Union at the time Louisiana was annexed to it.
The natural and main outlet to the products of this entire population, the highway of their direct intercourse with the Atlantic and the Pacific States, can never be secure, but must ever be endangered whilst Cuba is a dependency of a distant power in whose possession it has proved to be a source of constant annoyance and embarrassment to their interests.
Indeed the Union can never enjoy repose, nor possess reliable security, as long as Cuba is not embraced within its boundaries.
Its immediate acquisition by our government is of paramount importance, and we cannot doubt but that it is a consummation devoutly wished for by its inhabitants.
The intercourse which its proximity to our coast begets and encourages between them and the citizens of the United States, has, in the progress of time, so united their interests and blended their fortunes that they now look upon each other as if they were one people, and had but one destiny.
Considerations exist which render delay in the acquisition of this island exceedingly dangerous to the United States.
The system of immigration and labor lately organized within its limits, and the tyranny and oppression which characterize its immediate rulers threaten an insurrection at every moment, which may result in direful consequences to the American people.
Cuba has thus become to us an unceasing danger, and a permanent cause of anxiety and alarm.
But we need not enlarge on these topics. It can scarcely be apprehended that foreign powers, in violation of international law, would interpose their influence with Spain to prevent our acquisition of the island. Its inhabitants are now suffering under the worst of all possible governments, that of absolute despotism, delegated by a distant power to irresponsible agents, who are changed at short intervals, and who are tempted to improve their brief opportunity thus afforded to accumulate fortunes by the basest means.
As long as this system shall endure, humanity may in vain demand the suppression of the African slave trade in the island. This is rendered impossible whilst that infamous traffic remains an irresistible temptation and a source of immense profit to needy and avaricious officials, who, to attain their ends, scruple not to trample the most sacred principles under foot.
The Spanish government at home may be well disposed, but experience has proved that it cannot control these remote depositaries of its power.
Besides, the commercial nations of the world cannot fail to perceive and appreciate the great advantages which would result to their people from a dissolution of the forced and unnatural connection between Spain and Cuba, and the annexation of the latter to the United States. The trade of England and France with Cuba would, in that event, assume at once an important and profitable character, and rapidly extend with the increasing population and prosperity of the island.
2. But if the United States and every commercial nation would be benefited by this transfer, the interests of Spain would also be greatly and essentially promoted.
She cannot but see that such a sum of money as we are willing to pay for the island would affect it in the development of her vast natural resources.
Two-thirds of this sum, if employed in the construction of a system of railroads, would ultimately prove a source of greater wealth to the Spanish people than that opened to their vision by Cortez. Their prosperity would date from the ratification of the treaty of cession.
France has already constructed continuous lines of railways from Havre, Marseilles, Valenciennes, and Strasburg, via Paris, to the Spanish frontier, and anxiously awaits the day when Spain shall find herself in a condition to extend these roads through her northern provinces to Madrid, Seville, Cadiz, Malaga, and the frontiers of Portugal.
This object once accomplished, Spain would become a center of attraction for the traveling world, and secure a permanent and profitable market for her various productions. Her fields, under the stimulus given to industry by remunerating prices, would teem with cereal grain, and her vineyards would bring forth a vastly increased quantity of choice wines. Spain would speedily become what a bountiful Providence intended she should be, one of the first nations of continental Europe—rich, powerful and contented.
Whilst two-thirds of the price of the island would be ample for the completion of her most important public improvements, she might with the remaining forty millions satisfy the demands now pressing so heavily upon her credit, and create a sinking fund which would gradually relieve her from the overwhelming debt now paralyzing her energies.
Such is her present wretched financial condition, that her best bonds are sold upon her own bourse at about one-third of their par value; whilst another class, on which she pays no interest, have but a nominal value, and are quoted at about one-sixth of the amount for which they were issued. Besides, these latter are held principally by British creditors, who may, from day to day, obtain the effective interposition of their own government for the purpose of coercing payment. Intimations to that effect have already been thrown out from high quarters, and unless some new sources of revenue shall enable Spain to provide for such exigencies, it is not improbable that they may be realized.
Should Spain reject the present golden opportunity for developing her resources and removing her financial embarrassments, it may never again return.
Cuba, in her palmiest days, never yielded her exchequer, after deducting the expense of its government, a clear annual income of more than a million and a half of dollars. These expenses have increased to such a degree as to leave a deficit, chargeable on the treasury of Spain, to the amount of six hundred thousand dollars.
In a pecuniary point of view, therefore, the island is an encumbrance instead of a source of profit to the mother country.
Under no probable circumstance can Cuba ever yield to Spain one per cent, on the large amount which the United States are willing to pay for its acquisition. But Spain is in imminent danger of losing Cuba without remuneration.
Extreme oppression, it is now universally admitted, justifies any people in endeavoring to relieve themselves from the yoke of their oppressors. The sufferings which corrupt, arbitrary and unrelenting local administration necessarily entail upon the inhabitants of Cuba cannot fail to stimulate and keep alive that spirit of resistance and revolution against Spain which has of late years been so often manifested. In this condition of affairs it is vain to expect that the sympathies of the people of the United States will not be warmly enlisted in favor of their oppressed neighbors.
We know that the President is justly inflexible in his determination to execute the neutrality laws; but should the Cubans themselves rise in revolt against the oppression which they suffer, no human power could prevent citizens of the United States and liberal-minded men of other countries from rushing to their assistance. Besides, the present is an age of adventure in which restless and daring spirits abound in every portion of the world.
It is not improbable, therefore, that Cuba may be wrested from Spain by a successful revolution; and in that event she will lose both the island and the price which we are now willing to pay for it—a price far beyond what was ever paid by one people to another for any province.
It may also be remarked that the settlement of this vexed question, by the cession of Cuba to the United States, would forever prevent the dangerous complications between nations to which it may otherwise give birth.
It is certain that, should the Cubans themselves organize an insurrection against the Spanish government, and should other independent nations come to the aid of Spain in the contest, no human power could, in our opinion, prevent the people and government of the United States from taking part in such a civil war in support of their neighbors and friends.
But if Spain, dead to the voice of her own interest, and actuated by a stubborn pride and a false sense of honor, should refuse to sell Cuba to the United States, then the question will arise, What ought to be the course of the American government under such circumstances?
Self-preservation is the first law of nature with States as well as with individuals. All nations have, at different periods, acted upon this maxim. Although it has been made the pretext for committing flagrant injustice, as in the partition of Poland and other similar cases which history records, yet the principle itself, though often abused, has always been recognized.
The United States has never acquired a foot of territory except by fair purchase, or, as in the case of Texas, upon the free and voluntary application of the people of that independent State, who desired to blend their destinies with our own.
Even our acquisitions from Mexico are no exception to this rule because, although we might have claimed them by right of conquest in a just way, yet we purchased them for what was then considered by both parties a full and ample equivalent.
Our past history forbids that we should acquire the island of Cuba without the consent of Spain, unless justified by the great law of self-preservation. We must, in any event, preserve our own conscious rectitude and our own self-respect.
Whilst pursuing this course we can afford to disregard the censures of the world, to which we have been so often and so unjustly exposed.
After we have offered Spain a fair price for Cuba, far beyond its present value, and this shall have been refused, it will then be time to consider the question, does Cuba, in the possession of Spain, seriously endanger our internal peace and the existence of our cherished Union?
Should this question be answered in the affirmative, then, by every law, human and divine, we shall be justified in wresting it from Spain, if we possess the power; and this upon the very same principle that would justify an individual in tearing down the burning house of his neighbor if there were no other means of preventing the flames from destroying his own home.
Under such circumstances we ought neither to count the cost, nor regard the odds which Spain might enlist against us. We forbear to enter into the question, whether the present condition of the island would justify such a measure. We should, however, be recreant to our duty, be unworthy of our gallant forefathers, and commit base treason against our posterity, should we permit Cuba to be Africanized and become a second San Domingo, with all its attendant horrors to the white race, and suffer the flames to extend to our own neighboring shores, seriously to endanger, or actually to consume, the fair fabric of our Union.
We fear that the course and current of events are rapidly tending toward such a catastrophe. We, however, hope for the best, though we ought certainly to be prepared for the worst.
We also forbear to investigate the present condition of the questions at issue between the United States and Spain. A long series of injuries to our people have been committed in Cuba by Spanish officials, and are unredressed. But recently a most flagrant outrage on the rights of American citizens, and on the flag of the United States, was perpetrated in the harbor of Havana under circumstances which, without immediate redress, would have justified a resort to measures of war in vindication of national honor. That outrage is not only unatoned, but the Spanish government has deliberately sanctioned the acts of its subordinates, and assumed the responsibility attaching to them.
Nothing could more impressively teach us the danger to which those peaceful relations it has ever been the policy of the United States to cherish with foreign nations, are constantly exposed, than the circumstances of that case. Situated as Spain and the United States are, the latter has forborne to resort to extreme measures.
But this course cannot, with due regard to their own dignity as an independent nation, continue; and our recommendations, now submitted, are dictated by the firm belief that the cession of Cuba to the United States, with stipulations as beneficial to Spain as those suggested, is the only effective mode of settling all past differences, and of securing the two countries against future collisions.
We have already witnessed the happy results for both countries which followed a similar arrangement in regard to Florida.
Yours, very respectfully,
James Buchanan. J. Y. Mason. Pierre Soule.
Hon. Wm. L. MAECY, Secretary of State.
Unfortunately for Cuba the suggestions offered by this commission were not acted upon, although it is not probable that Spain, ever blind to her own interests, would have admitted the justice or reason of the argument, had the offer to purchase been made to her.
Exports and imports.
A table showing the amount of trade between Cuba and Spain during the year 1894 (the last authentic report), is instructive:
Importations in Cuba from Spain $ 7,492,622
Exportation from Cuba to Spain $23,412,376
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Difference in favor of export $15,919,754
Under happier conditions, there can be no doubt that Cuba will speedily attain a much higher state of commercial importance and prosperity than it has yet enjoyed. Great as its productiveness has been in the past, well-informed writers assert that proper development of its resources will increase the value five-fold, and a liberal system of government will enable it to take advantage of its admirable position to gain greater prominence in the commercial world.
Beauties of A tropical island.
A Delightful Climate—Grand Scenic Surprises—The Caves of Bellamar—The Valley of the Yumuri—Under Nature’s Dome—Gorgeous Sunsets—The Palm Tree Groves—The Home of Fruits and Flowers— The Zodiacal Light.
When the little island of Cuba, “The Pearl of the Antilles,” was assigned a place upon the terrestrial globe, Nature must have been in her most generous mood. Certainly no land beneath the skies was given a more perfect combination of mountains and rivers, forests and plains. Situated within and near the border of the northern tropical zone, the temperature of the low coast lands is that of the torrid zone, but the high interior of the island enjoys a delightful climate, and the verdure-clad hills, with the graceful palm and cocoa tree clear against the pure blue sky, may be seen at all seasons of the year.
As in other countries on the borders of the tropics, the year is divided between a hot and wet season, corresponding to the northern declination of the sun, and a cool and dry period. The months from the beginning of May to October are called the wet season, though some rain falls in every month of the year.
With May, spring begins in the island, rain and thunder are of almost daily occurrence, and the temperature rises high, with little daily variation. The period from November to April is called the dry season by contrast.
On a mean of seven years the rain-fall at Havana in the wet season has been observed to be 27.8 inches, of the dry months, 12.7, or 40.5 inches for the year.
July and August are the warmest months, and during this period the average temperature at Havana is 82 F, fluctuating between a maximum of 88 and a minimum of 76. In the cooler months of December and January the thermometer averages 72, the maximum being 78, and minimum 58. The average temperature of the year at Havana on a mean of seven years is 77.
But in the interior, at elevations of over 300 feet above the level of the sea, the thermometer occasionally falls to the freezing point in winter. Frost is not uncommon, and during north winds, thin ice may form, though snow is unknown in any part of the island.
The prevailing wind is the easterly trade breeze, but from November to February, cool north winds, rarely lasting more than forty-eight hours, are experienced in the western part of the island, to which they add a third seasonal change. Hurricanes may occur from August to October, but they are rare and sometimes five or six years pass without such a storm.
Grand Scenic surprises.
Many “globe-trotters” who have never included this little corner of the world in their itinerary, do not appreciate the fact that nowhere under the sun can be found a more perfect climate, grander mountain scenery, more charming valleys, more picturesque ruins, and fertile fields than Cuba offers to their view.
In another portion of this work will be found descriptions of the cities of Cuba, and brief mention here of some of the beauties of the country may not be amiss.
One of the grandest bits of scenery in the known world is to be found in the valley of the Yumuri, rivaling in sublimity the far-famed Lookout Mountain view and the Yosemite of the Sierra Nevadas. The journey leads over a winding trail, easily traversed by the native horses, up a steep hill, until, after a continuous climb of an hour and a half, the road turns around the edge of a grassy precipice, and the beautiful valley, with its patches of green and gold, spreads away in the distance. The little river of Yumuri winds its way through its flower-decked banks until it reaches the bay beyond, while in the distance rise the mighty mountains, clod in their coats of evergreen, and over all the fleecy clouds, and the sky of azure blue.
In this vicinity an opportunity is given the sight-seer to visit a sugar house and gain an idea of the sugar-making process, though on a very small scale, and enjoy a half an hour in the study of the natives, and their home life.
A traveler, in writing of this place, says:
“Our interview with the little black ‘ninos’ was highly amusing. On entering the court yard of the negro quarters, a dozen little black imps, of all ages and sexes and sizes, perfectly naked, rushed towards us, and crossing their arms upon their breasts, fell upon their knees before us, and jabbered and muttered, out of which could be distinguished, ’Master, master, give us thy blessing,’ which we interpreted to mean ‘tin;’ whereupon we scattered sundry ‘medios’ among them! Hey! presto! what a change! The little black devils fell over one another, fought, tugged, and scrambled to secure a prize, while anyone who had been lucky enough to obtain a coin, marched off in a state of dignified delight, his distended little stomach going before him like a small beer barrel, while the owner of it kept shouting out, ‘Medio, yo tengo medio’ (five cents, I have five cents).”
The caves of Bellamar.
One of the most interesting trips that can be made is to the “Caves of Bellamar,” which may be found about two and a half miles southeast of the city of Matanzas.
The journey takes the traveler up a winding and rugged road to the top of a hill, where the “Cave house” is reached, a large frame structure built over the entrance, and containing, among other objects of interest, a large collection of beautiful crystal formations found in the cave.
Here the tourist enters his name in the visitors’ register, pays his dollar, and follows the boy guide down the stairs into the cave. About one hundred and fifty feet from the entrance a small bridge is crossed, and the “Gothic Temple” is reached. The only light comes from a few scattered lanterns, and is consequently very obscure, but one can see the millions of crystals, the thousand weird forms, and realize that it is surpassingly beautiful. The temple is about two hundred feet in length and seventy feet in width, and while it does not equal in size or solemn grandeur the temple of the same name in the Mammoth cave of Kentucky, it greatly excels it in the richness and splendor of its crystal formations and beautiful effects.
The spectator possessed of strongly developed imaginative powers cannot fail to feel himself in fairy land. From the gloomy corners come gnomes and demons, and in the crystal shadows he sees sprites and lovely fairies, keeping gay revel to dreamy airs, played on invisible strings by spirit hands.
One of the most beautiful objects in the cave is the “Fountain of Snow,” a name given to one of the great pillars, called by the natives the “Cloak of the Virgin.” Others are known as “Columbus Mantle,” “The Altar,” and “The Guardian Spirit.”
“Who has not seen the Caves of Bellamar has not seen Cuba.”
Under nature’s dome.
One of the most vivid pieces of descriptive writing, referring to the beauties of Cuban skies, is from the pen of James M. Phillippo:
“The splendor of the early dawn in Cuba, as in the tropical islands in its vicinity, has been referred to. The whole sky is often so resplendent that it is difficult to determine where the orb of day will appear. Small fleecy clouds are often seen floating on the north wind, and as they hover over the mountains and meet the rays of the sun, are changed into liquid gold and a hundred intensely beautiful dyes more splendid than the tints of the rainbow. During the cooler months, the mornings are delightful till about ten o’clock, the air soon after dawn becoming agreeably elastic, and so transparent that distant objects appear as if delineated upon the bright surface of the air; the scenery everywhere, especially when viewed from an eminence, is indescribably rich and glowing; the tops of the rising grounds and the summits of the mountains are radiant with a flood of light, while the vapor is seen creeping along the valleys, here concealing the entrance to some beautiful glen, and there wreathing itself fantastically around a tall spire or groves of palm trees that mark the site of a populous village.
“The finest and most gorgeous sunsets occur in the West Indian Archipelago during the rainy seasons. The sky is then sublimely mantled with gigantic masses of cloud, glowing with a thousand gorgeous dyes, and seeming to collect at the close of day as though to form a couch for the sun’s repose. In these he sinks, flooding them with glory, touching both heavens and earth with gold and amber brightness long after he has flung his beams across the other hemisphere, or perhaps half revealing himself through gauze-like clouds, a crimson sphere, at once rayless and of portentous size.
“The azure arch, which by an optical illusion limits our view on every side, seems here, and in the tropics generally, higher than in England, even higher than in Italy. Here is seen, in a perfection compared to which even Italian skies are vapid and uninteresting, that pure, serene, boundless sky, that atmosphere of clear blue, or vivid red, which so much contributes to enrich the pencil of Claude Lorraine. The atmosphere of Cuba, as everywhere within the tropics, except when the high winds prevail, is so unpolluted, so thin, so elastic, so dry, so serene, and so almost inconceivably transparent and brilliant, that every object is distinct and clearly defined as if cut out of the clear blue sky. All travelers agree in praising the calm depths of the intensely blue and gloriously bright skies of inter-tropical latitudes. In the temperate zone, it is estimated that about 1,000 stars are visible to the naked eye at one time; but here, from the increased elevation and wider extent of the vault, owing to the clearness of the atmosphere, especially as seen from a high mountain chain, the number is greatly augmented. If, however, these luminaries may not be seen here in greater numbers, they certainly shine with greater brilliancy. The different constellations are indeed so greatly magnified as to give the impression that the power of the eye is increased. Venus rises like a little moon, and in the absence of the greater casts a distinguishable shadow.
“The Milky Way, which in the temperate zone has the appearance of a luminous phosphorescent cloud, and, as is well known, derives its brightness from the diffused light of myriads of stars condensed into so small space that fifty thousand of them are estimated to pass across the disc of the telescope in an hour, is here seen divided into constellations, and the whole galaxy is of so dazzling a whiteness as to make it resemble a pure flame of silvery light thrown across the heavens, turning the atmosphere into a kind of green transparency. Besides this, there are vast masses of stellar nebulae of indefinite diversity and form, oval, oblate, elliptical, as well as of different degrees of density, diffused over the firmament, and discoverable through a common telescope, all novel to an inhabitant of temperate climes, and recalling the exclamation of the psalmist: ’The heavens declare the glory of God, ... the firmament showeth forth His handiwork.’
“’The stars
Are elder scripture, writ
of God’s own hand,
Scripture authentic, uncorrupt
by man.’
“An interesting phenomenon sometimes occurs here, as in other islands of the West Indies, which was long supposed to be seen only in the eastern hemisphere. A short time before sunrise or sunset, a flush of strong, white light, like that of the Aurora Borealis, extends from the horizon a considerable way up the zenith, and so resembles the dawn as to prove greatly deceptive to a stranger. As he watches the luminous track he sees it decrease instead of becoming more vivid, and at length totally disappear, leaving the heavens nearly as dark as previous to its appearance. This is the zodiacal light.”
Wealth from nature’s stores in the forests and fields of Cuba.
The Palm Tree, the Queen of the Cuban Forests—Sugar Cane and Its Cultivation—The Tobacco Industry—Tropical Fruits and Flowers— Beauties of a Garden in Cuba—Enormous Shipments to Spain—The Wealth of the Island.
The forests of Cuba are of vast extent, and so dense as to be almost impenetrable. It is estimated that of about 20,000,000 acres of land still remaining perfectly wild and uncultivated, nearly 13,000,000 are uncleared forest. Mahogany and other hard woods, such as the Cuban ebony, cedar, and granadilla, valuable for manufactures, cabinet work and ship building are indigenous, and are exported to a considerable extent.
The palm is the queen of the Cuban forests and is its most valuable tree. It grows in every part of the island, but especially in the west, giving at once character and beauty to the scenery. The royal palm is the most common variety, and frequently grows to a height of one hundred and twenty feet, the branches numbering from twenty to twenty-five, in the center of which are the hearts or buds of the plant, elevating themselves perpendicularly with needle-like points.
This heart, enveloped in wrappers of tender white leaves, makes a most delicious salad, and it is also boiled, like cauliflower, and served with a delicate white sauce. The trunk of the palm is composed of fibrous matter, which is stripped off and dried, forming a narrow, thin board, which the natives use for the walls of their cottages. The boughs are sometimes made to serve for roofing, though palm leaves are usually used for this purpose, as well as for the linings of the walls. “El yarey” is another variety of the palm tree that is of great utility. From it the native women make the palm leaf hats that are worn by almost all the villagers and country people of Cuba.
Tropical fruits in abundance.
The fruits of Cuba are those common to the tropics. Bananas, pineapples, oranges, lemons and bread-fruit all grow in abundance, delicious to the taste and delightful to the eye.
Richard Henry Dana, Jr., after returning from a vacation trip to Cuba, wrote a charming description of a fruit garden that it was his good fortune to visit there:
“The garden contained a remarkable variety of trees, including some thrifty exotics. Here the mango, with its peach-like foliage, was bending on the ground with the weight of its ripening fruit; the alligator pear was marvelously beautiful in its full blossom, suggesting, in form and color, the passion flower; the soft, delicate foliage of the tamarind was like our sensitive plant; the banana trees were in full bearing, the deep green fruit (it is ripened and turns yellow off the tree), being in clusters of a hundred, more or less, tipped at the same time by a single, pendent, glutinous bud, nearly as large as a pineapple. The date palm, so suggestive of the far east, and the only one we had seen in Cuba, was represented by a choice specimen, imported in its youth. There was also the star-apple tree, remarkable for its uniform and graceful shape, full of green fruit, with here and there a ripening specimen; so, also, was the favorite zapota, its rusty coated fruit hanging in tempting abundance. From low, broad spreading trees depended the grape fruit, as large as an infant’s head and yellow as gold, while the orange, lime and lemon trees, bearing blossoms, green and ripe fruit all together, met the eye at every turn, and filled the garden with fragrance. The cocoanut palm, with its tall, straight stem, and clustering fruit, dominated all the rest. Guava, fig, custard apple, and bread-fruit trees, all were in bearing.
“Our hospitable host plucked freely of the choicest for the benefit of his chance visitors. Was there ever such a fruit garden before, or elsewhere? It told of fertility of soil and deliciousness of climate, of care, judgment, and liberal expenditure, all of which combined had turned these half a dozen acres of land into a Gan Eden. Through his orchard of Hesperides, we were accompanied also by the proprietor’s two lovely children, under nine years of age, with such wealth of promise in their large black eyes and sweet faces as to fix them on our memory with photographic fidelity. Before leaving the garden we returned with our intelligent host once more to examine his beautiful specimens of bananas, which, with its sister fruit, the plantain, forms so important a staple of fruit in Cuba and throughout all tropical regions. It seems that the female banana tree bears more fruit than the male, but not so large. The average clusters of the former comprise here about one hundred, but the latter rarely bears over sixty or seventy distinct specimens of the cucumber-shaped product. From the center of its large, broad leaves, which gather at the top, when it has reached the height of twelve or fifteen feet, there springs forth a large purple bud ten inches long, shaped like a huge acorn, though more pointed. This cone hangs suspended from a strong stem, upon which a leaf unfolds, displaying
The tobacco industry.
Cuban tobacco is famous throughout the world, and is one of the most profitable of all its products. Prior to 1791 the crop was sent to the national factories in Spain, by the “Commercial Company of Havana,” under government contract, but during that year the “Factoria de Tobacco” was established in Havana by the government. The tobacco was classified as superior, medium and inferior, and was received from the growers at fixed prices. In 1804 these were six, five and two and a half dollars per arrobe (a Spanish unit of weight, subject to local variations, but averaging about twenty-seven pounds avoirdupois).
By comparing the different prices with the quantity of each class of tobacco produced, we find that the “Factoria” paid an average price of $16 per hundred pounds for the leaf tobacco. With the expense of manufacture, the cigars cost the government seventy-five cents per pound; snuff, fine grain and good color, forty-three cents, and common soft, or Seville, nineteen cents a pound in Havana. In good years, when the crop amounted to 350,000 arrobes of leaf, 128,000 arrobes were manufactured for Spain, 80,000 for Havana, 9,200 for Peru, 6,000 for Buenos Ayres, 2,240 for Mexico, and 1,100 for Caracas and Campeachy.
In order to make up the amount of 315,000 arrobes, (for the crop loses ten per cent. of its weight, in loss and damage in the transportation and manufacture) we must suppose that 80,000 arrobes were consumed in the interior of the island; that is, in the country, where the royal monopoly did not extend. The maintenance of 120 slaves and the expenses of manufacture did not exceed $12,000 yearly; but the salaries of the officers of the “Factoria” amounted to $541,000. The value of the 128,000 arrobes of tobacco sent to Spain, in the abundant years, either in cigars, leaf or snuff, at the customary prices there, exceeded the sum of five million dollars.
It is surprising to see in the returns of the exports from Havana (documents published by the Consulado), that the exports for 1816 were only 3,400 arrobes; for the year 1823, only 13,900 arrobes of leaf tobacco; and in 1825 only 70,302 pounds of cigars and 167,100 pounds of leaf tobacco and strips; but we must remember that no branch of the contraband trade is more active than that in cigars. The tobacco of the Vuelta de Abajo is the most celebrated, but large quantities
Sugar cane and its cultivation.
Maturin Ballou, in his “Cuba Past and Present,” published in 1885, when the sugar industry was in its best days, writes an interesting account of cane cultivation:
“Sugar cane is cultivated like Indian corn, which it also resembles in appearance. It is first planted in rows, not in hills, and must be hoed and weeded until it gets high enough to shade its roots. Then it may be left to itself until it reaches maturity. This refers to the first laying out of a plantation, which will afterwards continue fruitful for years, by very simple processes of renewal. When thoroughly ripe the cane is of a light golden yellow, streaked here and there with red. The top is dark green, with long, narrow leaves depending, very much like those of the corn stalk, from the center of which shoots upward a silvery stem, a couple of feet in height, and from its tip grows a white fringed plume of a delicate lilac hue. The effect of a large field at its maturity, lying under a torrid sun, and gently yielding to the breeze, is very fine, a picture to live in the memory ever after.
“In the competition between the products of beet-root sugar and that from sugar cane, the former controls the market, because it can be produced at a cheaper rate, besides which its production is stimulated by nearly all of the European states, through the means of liberal subsidies both to the farmer and to the manufacturer. Beet sugar, however, does not possess so high a percentage of true saccharine matter as the product of the cane, the latter seeming to be nature’s most direct mode of supplying us with the article. The Cuban planters have one advantage over all other sugar-cane producing countries, in the great and inexhaustible fertility of the soil of the island. For instance, one or two hogsheads of sugar to the acre is considered a good yield in Jamaica, but in Cuba three hogsheads are the average. Fertilizing of any sort is rarely employed in the cane fields, while in beet farming it is the principal agent of success. Though the modern machinery, as lately adopted on the plantations, is very expensive, still the result achieved by it is so much superior to that of the old methods of manufacture, that the small planters are being driven from the market. Slave labor cannot compete with machinery. The low price of sugar renders economy imperative in all branches of the business, in order to leave a margin for profit.
“A planter informed the author that he should spread all of his molasses upon the cane fields this year as a fertilizer, rather than send it to a distant market and receive only what it cost. He further said that thousands of acres of sugar cane would be allowed to rot in the fields this season, as it would cost more to cut, grind, pack and send it to market than could be realized for the manufactured article. Had the price of sugar remained this year at a figure which would afford the planters a fair profit, it might have been the means of tiding over the chasm of bankruptcy which has long stared them in the face, and upon the brink of which they now stand. But with a more than average crop, both as to quantity and quality, whether to gather it or not is a problem. Under these circumstances it is difficult to say what is to become, financially, of the people of Cuba. Sugar is their great staple, but all business has been equally suppressed upon the island, under the bane of civil laws, extortionate taxation, and oppressive rule.
“The sugar cane yields but one crop a year. There are several varieties, but the Otaheitan seems to be the most generally cultivated. Between the time when enough of the cane is ripe to warrant the getting up of steam at the grinding mill, and the time when the heat and the rain spoils its qualities, all the sugar for the season must be made, hence the necessity for great industry on large estates. In Louisiana the grinding lasts but about eight weeks. In Cuba it continues four months. In analyzing the sugar produced on the island, and comparing it with that of the main land, the growth of Louisiana, chemists could find no difference as to the quality of the true saccharine principle contained in each.
“The great sugar estates lie in the Vueltra Arriba, the region of the famous red earth. The face of this region smiles with prosperity. In every direction the traveler rides astonished through a garden of plenty, equally impressed by the magnificent extent, and the profuse fertility of the estates, whose palm avenues, plantain orchards, and cane fields succeed each other in almost unbroken succession. So productive are the estates, and so steady is the demand for the planter’s crop, that the great sugar planters are, in truth, princes of agriculture.
“The imposing scale of operations on a great plantation, imparts a character of barbaric regal state to the life one leads there. Looking at them simply as an entertainment, the mills of these great sugar estates are not incongruous with the easy delight of the place. Everything is open and airy, and the processes of the beautiful steam machinery go on without the odors as without the noises that make most manufactories odious. In the centrifugal process of sugar making, the molasses passes into a large vat, by the side of which is a row of double cylinders, the outer one of solid metal, the inner of wire gauze. These cylinders revolve each on
How Cuba has been robbed by Spain.
Some knowledge of the enormous wealth that has accrued to Spain from her Cuban possessions may be gained from the following quotation from “Cuba and the Cubans,” published in New York in 1850 by Raimundo Cabrera:
“Oh, we are truly rich!
“From 1812 to 1826, Cuba, with her own resources, covered the expenditures of the treasury. Our opulence dates from that period. We had already sufficient negro slaves to cut down our virgin forests, and ample authority to force them to work ...
“By means of our vices and our luxury, and in spite of the hatred of everything Spanish, which Moreno attributed to us, we sent, in 1827, the first little million of hard cash to the treasury of the nation. From that time until 1864 we continued to send yearly to the mother country two millions and a half of the same stuff. According to several Spanish statisticians, these sums amounted, in 1864, to $89,107,287. We were very rich, don’t you see? tremendously rich. We contributed more than five million dollars towards the requirements of the Peninsular—$5,372,205. We paid, in great part, the cost of the war in Africa. The individual donations alone amounting to fabulous sums.
“But of course we have never voted for our own imposts; they have been forced upon us because we are so rich. In 1862, we had in a state of production the following estates: 2,712 stock farms, 1,521 sugar plantations, 782 coffee plantations, 6,175 cattle ranches, 18 cocoa plantations, 35 cotton plantations, 22,748, produce farms, 11,737 truck farms, 11,541 tobacco plantations, 1,731 apiaries, 153 country resorts, 243 distilleries, 468 tile works, 504 lime kilns, 63 charcoal furnaces, 54 cassava-bread factories, and 61 tanneries. To-day I do not know what we possess, because there are no statistics, and because the recently organized assessment is a hodge podge and a new burden; but we have more than at that time; surely we must have a great deal more.
“For a very long time we have borne the expenses of the convict settlement of Fernando Po. We paid for the ill-starred Mexican expedition, the costs of the war in San Domingo, and with the republics of the Pacific. How can we possibly be poor? While England, France and Holland appropriate large sums for the requirements of their colonies, Spain does not contribute a single cent for hers. We do not need it, we are wading deep in rivers of gold. If the fertility of our soil did not come to our rescue, we must, perforce, have become enriched by the system of protection to the commerce of the mother country. ... The four columns of the tariff are indeed a sublime invention.. Our agricultural industries require foreign machinery, tools and utensils, which Spain does not supply, but, as she knows that we have gold to spare, she may make us pay for them very high. And since our sugar is to be sold to the United States .. never mind what they cost. When there are earthquakes in Andalusia and inundations in Murcia, hatred does not prevent us from sending to our afflicted brethren large sums ... (which sometimes fail to reach their destination.)
“We are opulent? Let us see if we are. From the earliest times down to the present, the officials who come to Cuba, amass, in the briefest space of time, fortunes, to be dissipated in Madrid, and which appear never to disturb their consciences. This country is very rich, incalculably rich. In 1830 we contributed $6,120,934; in 1840, $9,605,877; in 1850, $10,074,677; in 1860, $29,610,779. During the war we did not merely contribute, we bled. We had to carry the budget of $82,000,000.
“We count 1,500,000 inhabitants, that is to say, one million and a half of vicious, voluptuous, pompous spendthrifts, full of hatred and low passions, who contribute to the public charges, and never receive a cent in exchange, who have given as much as $92 per capita, and who at the present moment pay to the state what no other taxpayers the world over have ever contributed. Does anyone say that we are not prodigiously, enviably rich?”
The Cubans, and how they live.
Life in the Rural Districts—A Cuban Bill of Fare—The Amusements of the Country People—Sports of the Carnival—Native Dances—An Island Farm—Fruit Used for Bread—Cattle Ranches and Stock Farms —Population of the Island—Education and Religion—Railways and Steamship Lines.
The traveler from the north, landing for the first time on Cuban shores, will discover his greatest delight in the radical changes he finds from everything he has been accustomed to in his own land. If he has read Prescott and Irving, he knows something of Castilian manners and customs in theory, but as the peculiarities of the people, their home life, their amusements, their religious observances, and their business methods are brought before him in reality, he is impressed with the constant charm of novelty.
In times of peace, the native of Cuban soil in the rural districts knows nothing of the struggle for existence which faces the majority of mankind in colder climes. He “toils not, neither does he spin,” for the reason that nature provides so freely that very little exertion is necessary to secure her gifts. Occasionally he may plow, or sow a little grain, or even pick fruit, but, as a rule, he leaves the labor to the negroes. If he lives on a main-traveled road, he may possibly provide entertainment for man and beast, where he delights in gossiping with all who come his way, and is ready to drink whenever invited. Neither does his raiment possess the glory of Solomon’s, for it generally consists of a pair of loose trousers, belted with a leather band, a linen shirt of brilliant hue, frequently worn outside his pantaloons, a silk handkerchief fastened about his head, a palm-leaf hat, and bare feet encased in leather slippers.
He is astute, though frank, boastful, though brave, and superstitious, if not religious. Gambling is his chief delight, and his fighting cocks receive more attention than his wife and family.
His better half is more reserved than her lord, especially with strangers. She is an adept horse-woman, though she sometimes shares the animal’s back with her husband, riding in front of him, almost on the neck of the horse. Her dress is the acme of simplicity (sometimes rather too simple to suit conventional ideas), and consists of a loose frock, and a handkerchief tied around her neck. Like her husband she dispenses with stockings, except on occasions of ceremony. Her pride is her hair, on which she bestows a great deal of attention, and she delights in displaying it at every possible opportunity.
A Cuban bill of fare.
The mode of life among the people of these rural districts is entirely unlike that of the residents of the cities. This difference extends even to their food and the manner of preparing it. In the populous centers, especially among the better classes, the table service is of the French mode, but among the country people will be found the real Cuban cuisine.
The morning meal usually consists of fried pork, of which they are very fond, boiled rice, and roasted plantain, which serves them for bread. Beef, birds or roast pork are served for dinner, together with plantains and a stew composed of fresh meat, dried meat, green plantains, and all kinds of vegetables. These are cooked in a broth, thickened with a farinaceous root called malanga, and flavored with lemon juice. Rice is a staple article of diet, and no meal is complete without it.
Rural amusements.
It is not in gastronomy alone that the Cubans of the country districts differ from their city cousins. They have their special amusements, some of which seem cruel to people of refinement, but it may be said in their defense that football is not a popular game on the island.
Cock fighting is the national sport, and men, women and children will wager their last possession on the result of an encounter between chickens of fighting blood. The goose fight is another cruel sport. Two poles are placed in the ground, with a rope stretched between them, on which a live goose is hung with its feet securely tied, and its head thoroughly greased. The contestants are on horseback, and ride at full speed past the goose, endeavoring to seize its head and separate it from the body as they pass. The fowl usually dies before the efforts are successful, but the rider who finally succeeds in the noble endeavor gains the glory and the prize.
There is a patron saint for every village, for whom there is a feast day, which is celebrated by masses at the church, and afterwards by games and dances. A procession is always arranged on this day, in which a little girl, dressed as an image, rides in a wagon, decorated with banners and flowers. Men in costumes of Indians lead the way, followed by others clad as Moors. A band is a necessary adjunct, and bringing up the rear are the inhabitants, marching and singing to the music of the band. When the church is reached, the people gather about the child, and she recites a composition written for the occasion.
During carnival time, processions of mountebanks, cavaliers, dressed as knights of old, on horses splendidly adorned, races, masques, balls and all manner of revelries are indulged in.
Dancing is a universal accomplishment, in which the young and old find enjoyment in all places and at all seasons. The Zapato, a dance peculiar to Cuba, is performed to the music of the guitar, accompanied by the voices of the dancers. It consists of fantastic posings, fancy marches, and graceful figures, and resembles in some details the “cake walks” of the negroes of our own country.
An island farm.
In the neighborhood of the larger cities are hundreds of “Estancias,” which correspond to what are known as market gardens in the United States. These farms usually consist of less than a hundred acres each, and on them are raised vegetables, chickens, small fruits and other table delicacies, for the city trade. Properly looked after, this business might be one of great profit, but the land is, as a rule, cultivated by tenants, who pay a rental of about five dollars per acre a year, and who are too indolent to give it the care necessary to gain lucrative returns.
The principal vegetable raised on these farms is the sweet potato, of which there are two varieties, the yellow and the white. The soil and the climate are not favorable to the cultivation of the Irish potato, and it is necessary to import this luxury, which accounts for the fact that they are seldom seen outside the cities.
Plantains are raised in large quantities. This product is to the Cuban what bread is to us, and may be characterized as the standard article of food. Though less nutritious than wheat or potatoes, it is produced in vastly larger quantities from the same area, and with far less effort. It closely resembles the banana, and is in fact often regarded as a variety of that fruit. A fanciful name for it among the natives is “Adam’s apple,” and the story is that it was the forbidden fruit of the Garden of Eden.
On a number of these places the business of farming has been entirely abandoned, and kilns built, where the burning of lime is carried on extensively.
Cattle ranches and stock farms.
The raising of cattle is one of the important industries of Cuba, and as it costs comparatively nothing to fit the stock for the market, handsome profits are realized. Herds of vast numbers roam over the prairies, receiving no attention from their owners, and are sold without any preliminary fattening. Fabulous prices are received for the fierce bulls which are used for the bull fights in the cities, and the breeding of these animals brings large returns.
Hides are one of the principal exports of the island, and bone black, prepared from the bones, is sold in immense quantities to the sugar-makers, for use in the manufacture of that article.
The finest horses raised in Cuba come from Puerto Principe, and magnificent specimens of the noble animal they are. They are noted for their powers of endurance, and can journey day after day, covering sixty to seventy miles, at an easy gait, without showing signs of fatigue. As horses were unknown to the original inhabitants of the island, it is supposed that the Cuban horse of to-day comes from Spanish stock, and the fact that it differs so greatly from those animals, both in appearance and quality, is explained by the changed climatic conditions in its breeding. Whatever its origin may be, it is certain that there are no finer specimens of horse flesh than are to be found in Cuba, and the natives take great care of them, almost regarding them as belonging to the family. Like the Irishman who “kept his pig in the parlor,” the Cuban often stables his horse in a room of his house.
Peculiar funeral ceremonies.
One of the strangest customs that is likely to be observed by the tourist in the interior sections, is the ceremony attendant on the burial of the dead. First come small boys, with white linen gowns over their clothes, short enough to display their ragged trousers and dirty shoes. A boy in the center bears a tall pole, upon the top of which is a silver cross, partially draped, while each of the other boys carries a tall candlestick.
Behind them comes the priest, in shabby attire, in one hand his prayer book, from which he is chanting from time to time, while in the other hand, the sun being hot, he carries an umbrella. Following him, a venerable old man comes tottering along, personating the acolyth, the bell-ringer, the sacristan, or other church dignitary, as may be necessary, croning out in his dreary voice, as he swings the burning censor, the second to the chants of the priest. The coffin then makes its appearance, made of rough boards, but covered with black paper muslin, and borne upon the shoulders of four villagers, a crowd of whom, all uncovered, bring up the rear.
Here, as in all other Catholic countries, the spectators uncover their heads at the passing of a funeral cortege. At the church are ceremonies of reading prayers, burning candles, and sprinkling the coffin with holy water, after which the priest goes his way, and the procession takes up its line of march for the newly-made grave, in the dilapidated and neglected cemetery, where the coffin is deposited without further ceremony. No females are present during the whole affair.
A family in mourning in Cuba, not only dress in dark clothes, upon which there is no luster, but they keep the windows of the house shut for six months. In fact, by an ordinance of the government, it is now prohibited to display the corpse to the public through the open windows, as was formerly done, both windows and doors being now required to be shut.
An hospitable people.
The Cuban of the better class is noted for his hospitality. His door is always open to receive whomsoever calls, be he acquaintance, friend or stranger. There is a place at his table for the visitor at all times, without money and without price, and no one having the slightest claim to courtesy of this kind need hesitate to accept the invitation. There is little travel or communication on the island, so even if the guest be an entire stranger, his host will feel amply repaid for his hospitality by the news the traveler brings from the outside world. There is a good old custom among the Danes, that when the first toast is drunk, it is to the roof of the house which covers everyone in it, meaning thereby it is all one family. This same custom might appropriately be kept up amongst the Cuban planters, for when one takes his seat at the table, he is immediately installed as one of the family circle.
Education and religion.
Education is woefully backward on the island. In the absence of recent statistics it is estimated that not one-tenth of the children receive lettered education of any kind, and even among the higher classes of society, liberal education is very far from being universally diffused. A few literary and scientific men are to be found both in the higher and middle ranks, and previous to the revolution, the question of public instruction excited some interest among the creole population.
At Havana is the royal university with a rector and thirty professors, and medical and law schools, as well as an institution called the Royal College of Havana, There is a similar establishment at Puerto Principe, in the eastern interior, and both at Havana and Santiago de Cuba there is a college in which the branches of ecclesiastical education are taught, together with the humanities and philosophy. Besides this there are several private schools, but these are not accessible to the masses. The inhabitants can scarcely be said to have any literature, a few daily and weekly journals, under a rigid censorship, supply almost all the taste for letters in the island.
To show how little liberty of opinion the newspapers of Cuba enjoy, we quote a decree issued by General Weyler, formerly Captain-General of the island:
Don Valeriano Weyler y Nicolau, Marquis of Tenerife, governor-general, captain-general of the Island of Cuba, and general-in-chief of this army.
Under the authority of the law of public order, dated the 23rd of April, 1870.
I Order and Command,
1st. No newspaper shall publish any news concerning the war which is not authorized by the staff officers.
2nd. Neither shall be published any telegraphic communications of a political character without the authority given by the secretary of the governor general in Havana, or by the civil officers in the other provinces.
3rd. It is hereby forbidden to publish any editorials, or other articles or illustrations, which may directly or indirectly tend to lessen the prestige of the mother-country, the army, or the authorities, or to exaggerate the forces and the importance of the insurrection, or in any way to favor the latter, or to cause unfounded alarm, or excite the feelings of the people.
4th. The infractions of this decree, not included in Articles first and sixth of the decree of February 16th last, will make the offenders liable to the penalties named in Article 36, of the law of the 23rd of April, 1870.
5th. All persons referred to in Article 14 of the Penal Code of the Peninsula, which is in force in this Island, will be held responsible for said infractions in the same order as established by the said Article.
6th. Whenever a newspaper has twice incurred the penalty of said offense, and shall give cause for a third penalty, it may be then suppressed.
7th. The civil governors are in charge of the fulfillment of this decree, and against their resolutions, which must be always well founded, the interested parties may appeal within twenty-four hours following their notification.
Valeriano Weyler.
Havana, April 27, 1896.
Population of the island.
Conflicting accounts render it impossible to arrive at anything like a certainty as to the number of inhabitants in Cuba at the time of its conquest, but it may be estimated at from 300,000 to 400,000. There is but little doubt, however, that before 1560 the whole of this population had disappeared from the island. The first census was taken in 1774, when the population was 171,620. In 1791 it was 272,300.
Owing to the disturbed condition of the island, no census of the inhabitants has been taken since that of 1887, when the total population was 1,631,687. Of this number, 1,111,303 were whites, and 520,684 were of negro blood. These figures make questionable the claim that the war for liberty is simply an insurrection of the colored against the Caucasian race.
Havana, the metropolis of the island.
Havana and Its Attractions for Tourists—How to Reach Cuba— Description of the Harbor of Havana—How the Proverbial Unhealthfulness of the City May Be Remedied—Characteristics of the Business Quarter—Residences and How the People Live—Parks and Boulevards—Other Features of Life in the City.
In spite of the little encouragement which American tourists have had for visiting the city of Havana, for many years it has been a popular place of resort for the few who have tried it or have been recommended to it by their friends. With the attractions it has had during Spanish administration, when an air of constraint and suspicion marked the intercourse with every American, it will not be surprising if under changed auspices and in an atmosphere of genuine freedom, Americans will find it one of the most delightful and easily accessible places possible for them to visit. It is not all pleasant, but the unpleasant things are sometimes quite as interesting as the pleasant ones. If the traveler forms his judgments according to the actual comforts he may obtain, he will be pleased from beginning to end of his stay. If the measure of his good opinion is whether or not things are like those to which he is accustomed, he will be disappointed, because novelty reigns. But novelty does not necessarily mean discomfort.
Havana may be reached by a sea voyage of three or four days from New York, on any one of several excellent steamers under the American flag, and even in winter the latter portion of the voyage will be a pleasant feature of the journey. Or the path of the American invading squadron may be followed, and the traveler, after passing through Florida by rail, may journey from Tampa by the mail steamers, and touching at Key West for a few hours, reach Havana after a voyage of two nights and a day.
The Florida straits, between Cuba and the Florida keys, which were the scene of the first hostilities of the war, are but ninety miles wide, and the voyage is made from Key West in a few hours. The current of the gulf stream makes the channel a trifle reminiscent of the English channel, but once under the lee of the Cuban coast the water is still and the harbor of the old city offers shelter.
In the days before the war, Morro Castle had an added interest to the traveler from the fact that behind its frowning guns and under the rocks on which it was built, were the cells of scores of sad prisoners, some of them for years in the dungeons, whose walls could tell secrets like those of the inquisition in Spain if they could but speak. Between Morro Castle and its neighbor across the way, La Punta, the vessels steam into that bay, foul with four hundred years of Spanish misrule and filth, where three hundred years of the slave trade centered, and into which the sewers of a great city poured their filth. Once inside the harbor, Cabana Castle frowns from the hills behind Morro, and on the opposite shore rise the buildings of the city itself.
The harbor always has been a busy one, for the commerce of the island and of the city has been large. In times of peace, scores of vessels lie at anchor in the murky waters. The American anchorage for mail steamers for years has been in the extremest part of the bay from the city of Havana itself, in order to avoid the contagion which was threatened by a nearer anchorage. Until the Maine was guided to her ill-fated station by the harbor master, it had been long since any American vessel had stopped in that part of the harbor.
Perfect sanitary condition easily created.
The shallow harbor of Havana has its entrance from the ocean through a channel hardly more than three hundred yards wide, and nearly half a mile long, after which it broadens and ramifies until its area becomes several square miles. No fresh water stream, large or small, flows into it to purify the waters. The harbor entrance is so narrow, and the tides along that coast have so little rise and fall, that the level of water in the harbor hardly shows perceptible change day after day.
The result of this is that the constant inflow of sewage from the great city pouring into the harbor is never diluted, and through the summer is simply a festering mass of corruption, fronting the whole sea wall and throwing a stench into the air which must be breathed by everyone on shipboard. There is one part of the harbor known as “dead man’s hole,” from which it is said no ship has ever sailed after an anchorage of more than one day, without bearing the infection of yellow fever among its crew.
Along the shores of this very harbor are great warehouses for the sugar and tobacco shipped into the United States by the thousands of tons every year. To preserve our national health, our government has maintained an expensive marine hospital service and quarantine system along our southern ports which trade with Havana, in addition to supporting a marine hospital service under the eminent Dr. Burgess in Havana itself. To the rigid enforcement of this system, and the untiring vigilance of Dr. Burgess, must be credited the immunity which the United States has had from annual epidemics of yellow fever and smallpox.
The guilt of Spain in permitting this shocking condition to continue, cannot in any way be palliated. For four hundred years she has had sway in the island, free to work her own will, and drawing millions of dollars of surplus revenue out of the grinding taxes she has imposed. The installation of a sanitary system of sewage, which should discharge into the open sea instead of into this cesspool which lies at the city’s feet, would have been the first solution of the difficulty. The threat of danger would have been finally averted by the expenditure of a few hundred thousand dollars, which would open a channel from the further extremity of the harbor to the ocean eastward. The distance is but a few miles and the engineering problem a simple one. This and the construction of a jetty northwestward from the point on which Morro Castle stands, would divert a portion of the current of the noble gulf stream into the harbor entrance, and the foul pond of to-day would be scoured of its filth by a perennial flood which could never fail.
Vera Cruz, on the Mexican coast, has proven that it is possible to exterminate yellow fever, and it is a duty owed to civilization that Havana shall follow along the same path. If all other excuses were to be ignored, the United States for years has had ample cause for intervention in Cuban affairs, as a measure of safety to the health of her own citizens, as truly as one man may complain to the authorities if his neighbor maintains a nuisance in the adjoining yard.
The business quarters of Havana.
Once anchored in the safest place in the harbor, the mail steamers are surrounded without delay by a fleet of peculiar boats of a sort seen only in the bay of Havana. For a bit of silver, the traveler is taken ashore, the journey to the landing stage being a matter of but a few moments. The journey through the custom house is not a formidable one, for unless there is suspicion of some contraband goods, the customs officers are not exacting upon travelers. At the door of the custom house, or aduana, wait the cabs, which are cheaper in Havana than in any other city of the new world, and they serve as a conveyance to the hotels, which are all grouped in the same neighborhood.
The streets through which the traveler passes are picturesque, but hardly practical, from the American point of view. Some of them are so narrow that carriages cannot pass, and all traffic must go in one direction. Nearly all of the business streets have awnings extending from one side to the other, between the roofs, as a protection from the tropic sun. The sidewalks on some of the most pretentious streets are not wide enough for three persons to walk abreast, and on others two cannot pass. On every hand one gets the impression of antiquity, and antiquity even greater than the four hundred years of Spanish occupancy actually measures. Spanish architecture, however modern it may be, sometimes adds to that impression and one might believe himself, with little stretch of the imagination, to be in one of the ancient cities of the old world.
Tke streets are paved with blocks of granite and other stone, roughly cut and consequently exceedingly noisy, but upon these narrow streets front some shops as fine as one might expect to discover in New York or Paris. It is true that they are not large, but they do not need to be, for nearly all are devoted to specialties, instead of carrying stocks of goods of the American diversity. The one who wants to shop will not lack for temptations. The selection is ample in any line that may be named, the styles are modern and in exquisite taste, and altogether the shops are a considerable surprise to one who judges them first from the exterior. Stores devoted exclusively to fans, parasols, gloves, laces, jewels, bronzes, silks and the beautiful cloth of pineapple fiber known as nipe cloth, are an indication of the variety that may be found. The shoes and other articles of men’s and women’s clothing are nearly all direct importations from Paris, and where Parisian styles dominate one may be assured that the selection is not a scanty one. Clerks are courteous even to the traditional point of Castilian obsequiousness, and altogether a shopping expedition along this Obispo street is an experience to be remembered with pleasure.
Havana homes.
You notice that everything is made to serve comfort and coolness. Instead of having panes of glass, the windows are open and guarded by light iron railings, and the heavy wooden doors are left ajar. You see into many houses as you pass along, and very cool and clean they look. There are marble floors, cane-seated chairs and lounges, thin lace curtains, and glimpses of courts in the center of each building, often with green plants or gaudy flowers growing in them between the parlor and the kitchen.
You find much the same plan at your hotel. You may walk in at the doors or the dining room windows just as you please, for the sides of the house seem capable of being all thrown open; while in the center of the building you see the blue sky overhead. Equally cool do all the inhabitants appear to be, and the wise man who consults his own comfort will do well to follow the general example. Even the soldiers wear straw hats. The gentlemen are clad in underwear of silk or lisle thread and suits of linen, drill or silk, and the ladies are equally coolly apparelled.
Havana is a dressy place, and you will be astonished at the neatness and style to which the tissue-like goods worn there are made to conform.
But come and see the apartment you are to rest in every night. Ten to one the ceiling is higher than you ever saw one in a private house, and the huge windows open upon a balcony overlooking a verdant plaza. The floor is of marble or tiling, and the bed is an ornate iron or brass affair, with a tightly stretched sheet of canvas or fine wire netting in place of the mattress you are used to. You could not sleep on a mattress with any proper degree of comfort in the tropics. There is a canopy with curtains overhead, and everything about the room is pretty certain to be scrupulously clean. Conspicuous there and everywhere else that you go is a rocking chair. Kocking chairs are to be found in the houses, and in regiments in the clubs.
Havana is the metropolis of the West Indies. It has more life and bustle than all the rest of the archipelago put together. If you are German, English, Scotch, Dutch, American, French or whatever you are, you will find fellow countrymen among its 250,000 souls. There is a public spirit there which is rare in these climes. The theaters astonish you by their size and elegance. The aristocratic club is the Union, but the popular one is the Casino Espanol, whose club house is a marvel of tropical elegance and beauty. Nearly all these attractions are on or near the broad, shady and imposing thoroughfare, the Prado—a succession of parks leading from the water opposite Morro Castle almost across the city.
In one or another of these parks a military band plays on three evenings of the week, and the scene on such occasions is wholly new to English eyes. It is at such times that one may see the beautiful Spanish and Cuban women. They do not leave their houses in the heat of the day unless something requires them to do so, and when they do they remain in their carriages, and are accompanied by a servant or an elderly companion. So strict is the privacy with which they are surrounded that you shall see them shopping without quitting their carriages, waited on by the clerks, who bring the goods out to the vehicles.
But when there is music under the laurels or palms the senoritas, in their light draperies, and wearing nothing on their heads save the picturesque mantilla of Old Spain, assemble on the paths, the seats, the sidewalks and in their carriages, and there the masculine element repairs and is very gallant, indeed.
Here you will listen to the dreamy melody of these latitudes, Spanish love songs and Cuban waltzes so softly pretty that you wonder all the world does not sing and play them. On other nights the walk or drive along the Prado is very interesting. You pass some of the most elegant of the houses, and notice that they are two stories high, and that the family apartments are on the upper stories, so that you miss the furtive views of the families at meals and of the ladies reclining in the broad-tiled window sills that you have in the older one-story sections of the city.
The cities of Cuba.
The Harbor of Matanzas—Sports of the Carnival—Santiago de Cuba and Its Beautiful Bay—Cardinas, the Commercial Center—Enormous Exports of Sugar—The Beauties of Trinidad—Other Cities of Importance.
The city of Havana may be said to stand in the same relation to Cuba that Paris does to France, for in it are centered the culture, the refinement, and the wealth of the island, but there are several other towns of considerable importance, and many of them have become places of interest since the struggle for liberty has attracted the attention of the civilized world.
Chief among these is Matanzas. This city, with a normal population of about 60,000, is situated fifty miles east of Havana, with which it is connected by rail and water. Its shipping interests are second only to those of the capital, as it is the outlet of many of the richest agricultural districts of the island.
The city is situated on the flats on both sides of the San Juan river, which brings down large quantities of mud and greatly impedes inland navigation. As an offset the bay is spacious, easy of access and sheltered from the violent gulf storms which prevail at some seasons. This makes the port a favorite with marine men. A large amount of money has been spent by the government to fortify and protect the city, and it has been connected by rail with all the principal towns and producing centers of the provinces. Thus it is a particularly favorite port of entry for all the supplies required in the plantations—food staples and machinery. Its exports consist principally of sugar, coffee, molasses, tobacco, honey, wax and fruits.
The city is built principally of masonry and in a most substantial manner, though little effort has been made to secure architectural beauty. The pride of the city is the new theater, which is pointed out as the handsomest building in Cuba, The Empresa Academy also takes rank equal with any for the excellence of its educational facilities.
There is no more charming spot in Cuba than Matanzas. The bay is like a crescent in shape, and receives the waters of the Yumuri and Matanzas rivers, two small unnavigable streams. A high bridge separates them. On this ridge back of the town stands a cathedral dedicated to the black virgin. It is a reproduction of a cathedral in the Balearic Islands. The view from its steeple is magnificent. Looking backward the valley of the Yumuri stretches to the right. It is about ten miles wide and sixty miles long, dotted with palms, and as level as a barn floor. The Yumuri breaks through the mountains near Matanzas bay something like the Arkansas river at Canon City. Carpeted with living green and surrounded with mountains this valley is one of the gems of Cuba.
About ten miles from Matanzas, on the left of the road, stand what are known as the Breadloaf Mountains. They rise from the plain like the Spanish peaks in Colorado. These mountains are the headquarters of General Betancourt, who commands the insurgents in the province. The Spaniards have offered $1,000 reward for his head. Several efforts have been made to secure it, but in all cases the would-be captor has lost his own head.
In accordance with the Weyler edict 11,000 reconcentrados were herded together at Matanzas, and within a year over 9,000 of them died in the city. In the Plaza, under the shadow of the Governor’s residence, twenty-three people died from starvation in one day. The province of Matanzas is not larger in area than the state of Delaware, yet 55,000 people have perished from starvation and incident diseases since the order went into effect.
But all the people of Matanzas are not reconcentrados, and even in the midst of war’s alarms they find time for amusement, as the following description of a carnival ball will prove:
“It was our good fortune to be in Matanzas during the last three days of the Carnival; and while the whole time was occupied by noisy processions and grotesque street masqueraders, the crowning ceremonies were on the last Sunday night. Then the whole town used every effort to wind up the season in a ‘feu de joie’ of pleasure and amusement. In almost every town of any importance there is an association of young men, generally known as ‘El Liceo,’ organized for artistic and literary purposes, and for social recreation. A fine large building is generally occupied by the association, with ample space for theatrical representations, balls, etc.; in addition to which there are billiard rooms, and reading rooms, adorned, probably with fine paintings. In Matanzas this association is known as ’El Liceo Artistico y Literario de Matanzas,’ and is a particularly fine one, being composed of the elite of the city, with a fine large house, to which they made an addition by purchasing the ‘Club,’ beautifully situated upon the Plaza.
“Thanks to our letter of introduction, we were, through the kind offices of the members, permitted to enjoy the pleasures of their grand ball, called the ‘Pinata,’ which was indeed a very grand affair, attended by the beauty and fashion of Matanzas. The ball commenced at the seasonable hour of 8 o’clock in the evening; and at entering, each one was required to give up his ticket to a committee of managers, who thus had a kind of general inspection of all those admitted.
“The ball room was a long, large hall, at the other end of which was a pretty stage for theatrical representations; on each side of the room was an arched colonnade, over which were the galleries, where the band was posted. Hanged in double rows of chairs the full length of the room in front of the colonnade, sat hundreds of dark-eyed angels, calm, dignified, and appearing, most of them, to be mere lookers on; not a black coat among them. All of these, with the exception of a few courageous ones that were facing all this beauty, were huddled together at the other end of the room, wanting the courage (it could not be the inclination) to pay their respects to ‘las Senoritas.’
“What is exactly the trouble in Cuba between the gentlemen and the ladies I never have been able to quite understand. The men are polished and gentlemanly, as a general thing—sufficiently intelligent, apparently; while the ladies are dignified and pretty. And yet I have never seen that appearance of easy and pleasant intercourse between the sexes which makes our society so charming.
“I am inclined to believe that it is the fault of custom, in a great degree, which surrounds women in Cuba with etiquette, iron bars and formality. This would seem to apply to the natives only, for nothing can be kinder, more friendly and courteous than the manners of the Cuban ladies to strangers, at least, judging from what is seen. It may be as a lady with whom I was arguing the point said: ’It is very different with strangers, Senor, and particularly with the Americans, who are celebrated for their chivalric gallantry to ladies.’ Now I call that a very pretty national compliment.
“Taking the arm of my friend, we walk up and down to see, as he expresses it, ‘who there is to be presented to,’ and faith, if beauty is to be the test, it would seem to be a hard matter to make up one’s mind, there is so much of it, but after a turn or two around the room, this form is gone through with, and one begins to feel at home and ready to enjoy one’s self.
“When one finds ladies (and there are numbers) who have been educated abroad, either in the United States or Europe, he finds them highly accomplished and entertaining. Several that I had the pleasure of meeting on this and other occasions spoke French perfectly, some English, and one or two both of these in addition to their native tongue.
“But let us return to the ball, which is all the time going on with great eclat. It opens with the advent upon the stage of a dozen or more young men, under the direction of a leader, in some fancy costume very handsomely made, who, after making their bow to the audience, go through some novel kind of a dance. The performers take this means of filling up the intervals of the general dance, and amusing the audience.
“It is now getting late, and the rooms are terribly warm. The fans of the long rows of lovely sitters, who have not moved out of their places the whole evening, keep up a constant flutter, and one begins to sigh for a breath of fresh air, and relief from the discomforts of a full dress suit. But the grand affair of the evening is yet to come off, we are told, so we linger on, and are finally rewarded by the grand ceremony of the ‘Pinata,’ from which the ball takes its name. This word I can hardly give the meaning of as applied to this ceremony, which consists in having pendent from the ceiling a form of ribbands and flowers, the ribbands numbered and hanging from the flowery the rights to pull which are drawn like prizes in a lottery. Of these ribbands, one is fastened to a beautiful crown of flowers, which, when the ribband to which it is attached is pulled, falls into the hands of the lucky person, who has the privilege of crowning any lady he may deem worthy of the honor ‘Queen of the Ball,’ to whom every one is obliged to yield obedience, homage, and admiration. There is, also, the same opportunity afforded to the ladies to crown a king. The whole ceremony is pretty, and creates much merriment and amusement.
“This ceremony over, at midnight we sally out into the open air. But what a sight greets us there! Lights blaze in such profusion that it seems more than day. Music and dancing are everywhere. Songs and mirth have taken complete possession of the place, while people of all ages, sexes and colors are mixed together, in what seems inextricable confusion, intent upon having a good time in the open air while their masters and betters are doing the same thing under cover. This is a carnival sight indeed, and only to be seen in a tropical clime.”
Guantanamo, the home of the pirates.
Approaching Cuba as Columbus did—across the narrow stretch of sea from San Domingo—you first sight the long, low promontory of the eastern tip, which the discoverer named Point Maysi. So different is the prospect from that seen at the other end of the island, as you come down in the usual route from New York or Florida, that you can hardly believe it is the same small country. From Maysi Point the land rises in sharp terraces, backed by high hills and higher mountains, all so vague in mist and cloud that you do not know where land ends and sky begins. Coming nearer, gray ridges are evolved, which look like cowled monks peering over each other’s shoulders, with here and there a majestic peak towering far above his fellows—like the Pico Turquino, 11,000 feet above the sea. Sailing westward along this south shore, the “Queen of the Antilles” looks desolate and forbidding, as compared to other portions of the West Indies; a panorama, of wild heights and sterile shores, and surge-beaten cliffs covered with screaming sea birds. At rare intervals an opening in the rock-bound coast betrays a tiny harbor, bordered by cocoa palms, so guarded and concealed by hills, and its sudden revelation, when close upon it, astonishes you as it did the first explorer.
According to tradition, everyone of these was once a pirate’s lair, in the good old days we read about, when “long, low, suspicious-looking craft, with raking masts,” used to steal out from sheltered coves to plunder the unwary. Each little bay, whose existence was unknown to honest mariners, has a high wooded point near its entrance, where the sea robbers kept perpetual watch for passing merchantmen and treasure-laden galleons, their own swift-sailing vessels safe out of sight within the cove; and then, at a given signal out they would dart upon the unsuspecting prey like a spider from his web. Among the most notorious piratical rendezvous was Gauntanamo, which our warships are said to have shelled two or three times of late. In recent years its narrow bay, branching far inland like a river, has become of considerable consequence, by reason of a railway which connects it with Santiago, and also because the patriot army, hidden in the nearby mountains, have entertained hopes of overcoming the Spanish garrison and making it a base for receiving outside assistance. Before the war there were extensive sugar plantations in this city, now all devastated. The Cobre mountains, looming darkly against the horizon, are the great copper and iron range of Cuba, said to contain untold mineral wealth, waiting to be developed by Yankee enterprise. In earlier days $4,000,000 a year was the average value of Cuba’s copper and iron exports; but in 1867 6,000,000 tons were taken out in less than ten months. Then Spain put her foot in it, as usual. Not content with the lion’s share, which she had always realized in exorbitant taxes on the product, she increased the excise charges to such an extent as to kill the industry outright. For a long time afterward the ore lay undisturbed in the Cobre “pockets,” until the attention of Americans was turned this way. Their first iron and copper claims in these mountains were recognized by the Cuban government about seventeen years ago. Three Yankee corporations have developed rich tracts of mining territory hereabouts, built railways from the coast to their works on the hills and exported, ore to the United States. The oldest of these companies employed 2,000 men, and had 1,600 cars and a fleet of twenty steamers for the transportation of its output. The Carnegie Company, whose product was shipped to Philadelphia, also employed upwards of a thousand men.
Santiago de Cuba.
At last an abrupt termination of the stern, gray cliffs which mark this shore line indicates the proximity of Santiago harbor, and a nearer approach reveals the most picturesque fort or castle, as well as one of the oldest, to be found on the western hemisphere. An enormous rounding rock, whose base has been hollowed into great caverns by the restless Caribbean, standing just at the entrance of the narrow channel leading into the harbor, is carried up from the water’s edge in a succession of walls, ramparts, towers and
It takes a good while to see it all, for new stories and stairways, wings and terraces, are constantly cropping out in unexpected places, but as it occupies three sides of the rounding cliff and the pilot who comes aboard at the entrance to the channel guides your steamer close up under the frowning battlements, you have ample time to study it. Window holes cut into rock in all directions show how extensive are the excavations. A large garrison is always quartered here, even in time of peace, when their sole business is searching for shady places along the walls against which to lean. There are ranges above ranges of walks, connected by stairways cut into the solid rock, each range covered with lolling soldiers. You pass so near that you can hear them chattering together. Those on the topmost parapet, dangling their blue woolen legs over, are so high and so directly overhead that they remind you of flies on the ceiling.
In various places small niches have been excavated in the cliff, some with crucifixes, or figures of saints, and in other places the bare, unbroken wall of rock runs up, sheer straight 100 feet. Below, on the ocean side, are caves, deep, dark and uncanny, worn deep into the rock. Some of them are so extensive that they have not been explored in generations.
The broad and lofty entrances to one of them, hollowed by the encroaching sea, is as perfect an arch as could be drawn by a skillful architect, and with it a tradition is connected which dates back a couple of centuries. A story or two above these wave-eaten caverns are many small windows, each heavily barred with iron. They are dungeons dug into the solid rock, and over them might well be written, “Leave hope behind, ye who enter here!” A crowd of haggard, pallid faces are pressed against the bars; and as you steam slowly by, so close that you might speak to the wretched
Against that old tower, a quarter of a century ago our countrymen of the Virginius were butchered like sheep. Scores of later patriots have been led out upon the ramparts and shot, their bodies, perhaps, with life yet in them, falling into the sea, where they were snapped up by sharks as soon as they touched the water.
The narrow, winding channel which leads from the open sea into the harbor, pursues its sinuous course past several other fortifications of quaint construction, but of little use against modern guns—between low hills and broad meadows, fishing hamlets and cocoanut groves. Presently you turn a sharp angle in the hills and enter a broad, land-locked bay, inclosed on every side by ranges of hills with numerous points and promontories jutting into the tranquil water, leaving deep little coves behind them, all fringed with cocoa-palms. Between this blue bay and a towering background of purple mountains lies the city which Diego Velazquez, its founder, christened in honor of the patron saint of Spain, as far back as the year 1514. It is the oldest standing city in the new world, excepting Santo Domingo, which Columbus himself established only eighteen years earlier. By the way, San Jago, San Diego and Santiago, are really the same name, rendered Saint James in our language; and wherever the Spaniards have been are numbers of them. This particular city of Saint James occupies a sloping hillside, 600 miles southeast from Havana, itself the capital of a department, and ranks the third city of Cuba in commercial importance—Matanzas being second. As usual in all these southern ports, the water is too shallow for large vessels to approach the dock and steamers have to anchor a mile from shore. While waiting the coming of health or customs officials, these lordly gentlemen who are never given to undignified haste, you have ample time to admire the prospect, and if the truth must be told, you will do well to turn about without going ashore, if you wish to retain the first delightful impressions—for this old city of Spain’s patron saint is one of the many to which distance lends enchantment.
Red-roofed buildings of stone and adobe entirely cover the hillside, with here and there a dome, a tower, a church steeple shooting upward, or a tell palm poking its head above a garden wall—the glittering green contrasting well with the ruddy tiles and the pink, gray, blue and yellow of the painted walls. In the golden light of a tropical morning it looks like an oriental town, between sapphire sea and turquoise mountains. Its low massive buildings, whose walls surround open courts, with pillared balconies and corridors, the great open windows protected by iron bars instead of glass, and roofs covered with earthen tiles—are a direct importation from Southern Spain, if not from further east. Tangiers, in Africa, is built upon a similar sloping hillside, and that capital of Morocco does not look a bit more Moorish than Santiago de Cuba. On the narrow strip of laud bordering the eastern edge of the harbor, the Moro at one end and the city at the other, are some villas, embowered in groves and gardens, which, we are told, belong mostly to Americans who are interested in the Cobre mines. The great iron piers on the right belong to the American mining companies, built for loading ore upon their ships.
Cardinas.
Fifty miles east of Matanzas is the city of Cardinas, the last port of any consequence on the north coast of the island. It has a population of 25,000, and is the capital of a fertile district. It is one of the main outlets of Cuba’s richest province, Matanzas, and is the great railroad center of the island, or, more properly speaking, it ought to be, as the railroads of the country form a junction fifteen miles inland, at an insignificant station called Jouvellenes.
In time of peace Cardinas enjoys a thriving business, particularly in sugar and molasses, its exports of the former sometimes amounting to 100,000 tons a year. To the west and south stretch the great sugar estates which have made this section of Spain’s domain a prize to be fought for. The water side of the town is faced with long wharves and lined with warehouses, and its extensive railway depot would do credit to any metropolis.
There are a few pretentious public buildings, including the customs house, hospital and college. Its cobble paved streets are considerably wider than those of Havana, and have two lines of horse cars. There is gas and electric light, and more two-story houses than one is accustomed to see on the island.
But, notwithstanding the broad, blue bay in front, and the Paseo, whose tall trees seem to be touching finger tips across the road, congratulating each other on the presence of eternal summer, Cardinas is not an attractive town. One misses the glamor of antiquity and historic interest which pervades Havana, Matanzas and Santiago, and feels somehow that the town is new without being modern, young but not youthful.
Other cities of importance.
Puerto Principe, or to give it its full name in the Spanish tongue, Santa Maria de Puerto Principe, is the capital of the Central department, and is situated about midway between the north and south coasts, 305 miles southeast of Havana, and forty-five miles southwest of Nuevitas, its port, with which it is connected by railroad. Its population is about 30,000 and it is surrounded by a rich agricultural district, the chief products of which are sugar and tobacco. The climate is hot, moist and unhealthy. It was at one time the seat of the supreme court of all the Spanish colonies in America.
One of the most attractive cities of Cuba is Trinidad, which lies near the south coast, three miles by rail from the port of Casildas. It is beautifully situated on high land overlooking the sea, and on account of its mild and very equable climate it is a favorite resort for tourists and invalids.
Nuevitas, Sancti Espiritu, Baracoa and Cienfuegos are all centers of population with many natural advantages, and with a just form of government, and the advent of American enterprise and capital, they might become prosperous, attractive, and of great commercial importance.
Mutterings of insurrection.
Slavery in Cuba—Horrible Tortures Inflicted—The Conspiracy of Lopez—The United States Interferes—Lopez Captured and Executed —Seizure of American Ships—Our Government Demands and Secures Indemnity From Spain—Enormous Salaries of Cuban Officials— Oppressive Taxation.
Slavery was a demoralizing influence to Cuba as it has been, to every other country in which the system has existed, and to its presence was traced one of the most sensational episodes in all the sensational history of the unhappy island. It is impossible to know to what extent the suspected insurrection of slaves on the sugar plantations about Matanzas was an actual threat. So horrible were the charges made by the accusers that it is almost impossible to believe them. At any rate, such an insurrection was anticipated, and the authorities took measures to crush it out, more severe than any such governmental movement has been since the days of the Spanish Inquisition itself. It was impossible to obtain witnesses by ordinary methods, so the most shocking forms of torture were employed. Those who refused to confess whatever charges happened to be brought against them were tortured till they did confess, and then probably executed for the crimes which they admitted under such circumstances. By such “judicial” processes, 1,346 persons were convicted, of whom seventy-eight were shot and the others punished less severely in various ways. Hundreds of others died from the tortures to which they were subjected, or in the foul prisons in which they were confined, and of these we have no record. Of those convicted and punished under the alleged forms of law, fourteen were white, 1,242 were free negroes, and fifty-nine were slaves. The negroes of Cuba have never forgotten the barbarities to which their parents were subjected in that trying year.
The most notable outbreak of Cuban insurrectionary forces prior to that of the Ten Years’ war, which began in 1868, was that known as the conspiracy of Lopez.
As early as May, 1847, Narcisso Lopez and a number of his associates who had planned an insurrection in the central part of the island, were pursued to the United States by Spanish agents, who had kept track of their conspiracy. The Lone Star Society was in close sympathy with these refugees, and to a certain extent the two were co-existent. Lopez, in 1849, organized a military expedition to invade Cuba. By the exertions of the officers of the United States government the sailing of the expedition was prevented. Notwithstanding the activity of the government, however, Lopez, in the following year, got together a force of 600 men outside of the United States, shipped arms and ammunition to them from this country, and on May 19, 1850, made a landing at Cardenas.
The United States authorities had put the Spanish government in Cuba on the alert for this expedition. President Taylor had issued a proclamation warning all citizens of the United States not to take part in such an expedition or to assist it in any way. The expedition was driven out to sea from Cardenas a few days after it landed, sailed for Key West, and there disbanded. Meantime there were a number of uprisings in the island between groups of unhappy natives who had not the wisdom to co-operate in the effort to resist the oppressive hand of the Spaniards.
In August of 1851, Lopez eluded the United States authorities at the port of New Orleans, and sailed out into the Gulf of Mexico with an expedition 450 strong. His lieutenant on this expedition was a Colonel Crittenden, a native of the State of Kentucky. They landed near Bahia Honda, about thirty miles west of Havana, and found the government forces waiting for them. Colonel Crittenden, with a subdivision of 150 men, was compelled to surrender, and the rest were scattered. Lopez, with fifty others, was captured, taken to Havana, and there executed.
The circumstances attending the Lopez failure, and several Spanish outrages against American citizens and vessels, aroused deep feeling in the United States, and the sentiment was growing rapidly that it was a national duty to our own peace, to do something that would make the troublesome neighbor a pleasant one. It was fifty years before action was taken, but, once begun, it was well done.
It was in 1848, prior to the Lopez invasion, that President Polk made the first approaches to the Spanish government with a suggestion to purchase the island for $100,000,000, but was refused with scant consideration. A few years later came the succession of attacks on American merchant vessels by Spanish ships of war, on the pretext that the intercepted craft were in filibuster service. Some of these were fired on, and the American mail bags opened, the steamships Falcon and Crescent City being in this list.
It was in 1852 that the governments of Great Britain and France tried to draw the United States into an agreement on the question of Cuba, which was happily refused on genuinely American grounds. It was suggested that all the parties should be bound not to acquire Cuba themselves, nor to permit any other power to do so. Our government gave the proposal respectful consideration, but declined to enter into any such arrangement, on the ground that we prefer to avoid entangling foreign alliances, that it would be unwise, if not unconstitutional, to tie our hands for the future regardless of what might happen, and that on geographical grounds, while England and France were making very slight concessions, we were asked to make a very important one.
The United States came as near to the purchase of Cuba in 1854 as it ever was, but Spain gave the plan little encouragement. Three American ministers to European countries, Messrs. Buchanan, Mason and Soule, met at Ostend and formulated a plan for the purchase, signing and issuing what came to be known as the Ostend manifesto. They recommended the purchase of the island for $120,000,000, and that in no event should it be allowed to come under the power of any other European government than the one by which it was held. At this time, and afterward, while filibustering expeditions were frequent and disorder constantly threatening in Cuba, the subject of the acquisition of Cuba was discussed in Congress, but no headway was made in the matter. At last, conditions in the island became intolerable to the patriots there, and the Ten Years’ war began.
It is necessary at this point to relate some of the causes of the frequent disorders and uprisings in the island of Cuba. Some of the features of Spanish misgovernment in the colony have been named, but the catalogue is far from complete.
The most judicial writers, however bitterly they condemn Spain, admit that that peninsular kingdom has itself suffered and that the people have suffered almost beyond endurance themselves. Cuba is not the only land with which we may share a little of our sympathy. But sympathy for Spain must come from other things than oppression from without. Her oppression is within her own borders, and her authorities have tried to shift the burden of it to the colonists across the sea. The debt of Spain has reached enormous proportions, and having fallen from her high estate as a commercial nation, it has become impossible for the great interest charges on her floating debt to be paid by ordinary and correct methods. Says one writer: “To pay the interest necessitates the most grinding oppression. The moving impulse is not malice, but the greed of the famishing; and oppressor and oppressed alike are the objects for sympathy.”
The annual revenue raised in the island of Cuba had reached nearly $26,000,000 by the time of the outbreak of the Ten Years’ war, and preparations were in progress for largely increasing the exactions. The large revenue raised was expended in ways to irritate the Cubans or any one else who had to help pay it. The annual salary of the captain general was $50,000, when the president of the United States was getting only $25,000 a year. Each provincial governor in Cuba got a salary of $12,000, while the prime minister of Spain received only half that.
The bishop of Havana and the archbishop of Santiago de Cuba each received a salary of $18,000. All offices, civil, military and ecclesiastical, were productive of rich perquisites, except in those cases where stealing was simpler. Wholesale corruption in the custom houses was generally known and admitted by all. The thefts in the custom houses in Havana was estimated at forty per cent, and in Santiago at seventy per cent of the entire revenue. All offices except the very lowest, in church and state alike, were filled by men sent from Spain, with the frank understanding that as soon as he could, each new appointee could garner a fortune by fair means and foul combined, he should retire and let another be sent over to have a turn at the plunder. The result of this was that strangers were always in authority, men with no sympathy for local need, and no local reputation to sustain. It is perfectly obvious what sort of a public service such conditions would create.
As might have been expected, the result was the growth of two parties, one the native-born Cubans, and called the insulares, the other of those from Spain, and their adherents, known as the peninsulares. The line between them has been sharply drawn for many years, and they are on opposite sides of everything. It is from the ranks of the continentals that the volunteer corps of Cuba has been drawn, one of the most aggravating and threatening of all influences against peace in Cuba.
Spain imposed differential duties in such a way as to virtually monopolize the trade of the island. At the same time the prices of all imports to Cuba were forced, to an unnatural figure, to the great distress of the people. Petty oppression in postage and in baptismal fees multiplied, so that instead of petty it became great. The increase in taxation of Cuba for use in Spain in two years prior to the outbreak of the Ten Years’ war was more than $14,000,000, and the next year it was proposed to increase it still more. The cities were hopelessly in debt and unable to make the most ordinary and most necessary public improvements. What few schools there had been were nearly all closed. Lacking insane asylums, the unfortunate of that class were kept in the jails. The people saw a country separated from them but by a narrow stretch of water, where freedom reigned. They saw that they were being heavily oppressed with taxation for the benefit of
OUTBREAK OF THE TEN YEARS’ WAR
Cuba Again Stirred to Turmoil—The Taxes of the Island Increased —A Declaration of Independence—Civil Government Organized— Meeting of the Legislature, and Election of Officers—The Edict of a Tyrant.
Before the outbreak of the Ten Years’ War, the reform party in Cuba, which included all the most enlightened, wealthy and influential citizens of the island, had exhausted all the resources at their command to induce Spain to establish a more just and equitable administration of affairs, but all to no avail.
It was proposed that Cuba receive an autonomist constitution. The abolition of the supreme power of the Captain General, the freedom of the press, the right of petition, the regulation of the chief frauds by which elections were so arranged that no Cuban could hold government office, the right of assembly, representation in the Cortes, and complete local self-government were among the reforms asked for. The plans were considered in Spain and were reconsidered, and considered again, and that was about all that ever came of them, except that in June, 1868, Captain General Lersundi was permitted to raise the direct taxes on the island ten per cent.
Finally, driven to a point where they could endure it no longer, they made the start for freedom, and began to fight for it, as brave men should do and have done through the history of the world.
Several months before the revolution in Spain and the abdication of Isabella, measures had been taken to prepare for the effort to achieve independence. At last matters progressed so rapidly in the mother country that the Cubans dared not wait for the completion of their plans, but on October 10, 1868, began the hostilities. On that day, Carlos M. de Cespedes, a lawyer of Bayamo, took the initiative with 128 poorly armed men, and issued a declaration of independence at Yara. This declaration justified itself by referring in the following terms to the grievances that have been outlined:
“In arming ourselves against the tyrannical government of Spain, we must, according to precedent in all civilized countries, proclaim before the world the cause that impels us to take this step, which, though likely to entail considerable disturbances upon the present, will ensure the happiness of the future. ... And as Spain has many a time promised us Cubans to respect our rights, without having fulfilled her promises; and she continues to tax us heavily, and by so doing is likely to destroy our wealth; as we are in danger of losing our property, our lives and our honor under Spanish dominion,” etc.
Within a few weeks Cespedes was at the head of 15,000 men, ill-prepared for war, so far as arms and equipment were concerned, but well provided with resolution, bravery and a just cause. A civil government was organized, and a constitution drawn up, providing for an elective president and vice-president, a cabinet, and a single legislative chamber. It also declared the immediate abolition of slavery. This constitution was promulgated at Guaimaro in Central Cuba, on the 10th of April, 1869. The legislature met soon after, and elected Cespedes president, and Francisco M. Aguilero vice-president.
This insurrection soon assumed formidable dimensions, and the following edict was issued by General Balmaceda:
Inhabitants of the country! The reinforcement of troops that I have been waiting for have arrived. With them I shall give protection to the good, and punish promptly those that still remain in rebellion against the government of the metropolis.
You know that I have pardoned those who have fought us with arms; that your wives, mothers and sisters have found in me the unexpected protection that you have refused them. You know, also, that many of those we have pardoned have turned against us again. Before such ingratitude, such villainy, it is not possible for me to be the man I have been; there is no longer a place for a falsified neutrality; he that is not for me is against me; and that my soldiers may know how to distinguish, you hear the order they carry.
1st. Every man, from the age of fifteen years upward, found away from his habitation (finca), and who does not prove a justified motive therefor, will be shot.
2nd. Every habitation unoccupied will be burned by the troops.
3rd. Every habitation from which does not float a white flag, as a signal that its occupants desire peace, will be reduced to ashes.
Women that are not living in their own homes, or at the houses of their relatives, will collect in the town of Jiguani, or Bayamo, where maintenance will be provided. Those who do not present themselves will be conducted forcibly.
The foregoing determinations will commence to take effect on the 14th of the present month.
El Conde de Balmaceda.
Bayamo, April 4, 1869.
Even Weyler, the “Butcher,” has never succeeded in concocting a manifesto that surpassed this in malicious excuses for the ancient Spanish amusements of pillage, incendiarism and murder.
The cause A just one.
It is now conceded by high Spanish authorities that the insurgents had just grounds for this revolt, and Senor Dupuy de Lome, formerly the Spanish minister to the United States, admits in a letter to the New York Herald that a very large majority of the leading citizens of the island were in sympathy with the struggle for liberty.
The new government received the moral support of nearly all of the South American republics, but as many of them were troubled with internal dissensions, and uncertain of their own security, they were not in a condition to furnish assistance of a more practical nature, and the revolutionists were left to work out their own salvation.
In an exhaustive review of the trouble between Spain and her Cuban possessions, published in 1873, the Edinburg Review said:
“It is well known that Spain governs the island of Cuba with an iron and bloodstained hand. The former holds the latter deprived of civil, political and religious liberty. Hence the unfortunate Cubans being illegally prosecuted and sent into exile, or executed by military commissions in time of peace; hence their being kept from public meeting, and forbidden to speak or write on affairs of state; hence their remonstrances against the evils that afflict them being looked upon as the proceedings of rebels, from the fact that they are bound to keep silence and obey; hence the never-ending plague of hungry officials from Spain to devour the product of their industry and labor; hence their exclusion from public stations, and want of opportunity to fit themselves for the art of government; hence the restrictions to which public instruction with them is subjected, in order to keep them so ignorant as not to be able to know and enforce their rights in any shape or form whatever; hence the navy and the standing army, which are kept in their country at an enormous expenditure from their own wealth, to make them bend their knees and submit their necks to the iron yoke that disgraces them; hence the grinding taxation under which they labor, and which would make them all perish in misery but for the marvelous fertility of their soil.”
The massacre of the Virginius officers and crew.
Excitement in the United States over a Spanish Outrage of Twenty-five Years Ago—The Virginius a Blockade Runner—Severity of the Spanish Court Martial—Insolence to the American Consul— Indignation in the United States—Negotiations Between Washington and Madrid—Settlement an Unsatisfactory One to Most People—No Just Retribution Ever Made.
It was less than twenty-five years before the destruction of the Maine, that another vessel whose crew met its fate in a Spanish port in Cuba was the subject of as intense public interest in the United States as that created by the catastrophe of 1898. The hopeful progress of the Cuban revolution of 1868-78 had stimulated their friends in the United States to aid the insurgents in every way possible, by money, men and the munitions of war. Filibustering was constant and scarcely discouraged by the people of the United States, in spite of the protest of Spain. It was as a result of this condition that the terrible affair of the Virginius occurred.
The case of the Virginius had in it elements of tragedy that made it more spectacular and dramatic than that of the Maine, and American spirit was worked to an even higher tension than it is now, before diplomacy and caution averted a war between the United States and Spain. In the case of the Virginius the facts of Spanish aggression were in no way denied, but, on the contrary, avowed for a time with pride, until the authorities at Madrid subdued their people, who were making a settlement more difficult by their talk. The only controversy was as to whether or not Spain’s action in the matter was within its rights. But the settlement, however it might have left the rights of the vessel still unsolved, was a rebuke to Spain, and for its execution of American citizens with scarcely a formality of law Spain has never been forgiven by those who remember it, whatever diplomacy decided as to being satisfied.
The Virginius was originally an English-built sidewheel steamer called the Virgin, and during the war between the States was one of the most famous of blockade runners until captured by a vessel of the United States. In 1870 she was sold in Washington to an agent of the Cuban Junta at New York, her name was changed to Virginius, and she cleared for Curacoa in the West Indies. From that time till her unhappy fate she was never in United States waters. At Aspinwall and in the ports of Venezuela and the West Indies she was known for three years as the most daring and the most successful of filibusters, making repeated landings on the Cuban coast with supplies of arms, ammunition, food and clothes for the insurgents who were then fighting the Ten-Years’ war. In all her filibustering it was claimed, however, that the Virginius never lost her character as an American ship, though the Cuban flag was kept at the masthead whenever that practice served any good purpose.
The vessel sailed on the fatal voyage from Kingston, Jamaica, October 23, 1873, having cleared at the United States consulate as a United States vessel bound for Port Simon, Costa Rica. The commander was Captain Joseph Fry, a citizen of the United States. The cargo was made up of munitions of war for the Cuban insurgents, and the crew was part of Cuban and part of American citizens. There were also on board a number of enlisted men on their way to join the insurgent army.
It was not until October 31 that the Virginius approached the coast of Cuba to make her landing, and was intercepted by the Spanish gunboat Tornado. The Tornado had been built by the same English firm that constructed the Virginius, also for blockade running, but in the race that followed the Virginius was unable to equal the speed of her Spanish pursuer. The chase lasted eight hours. Finally, at 10 o’clock at night, the Virginius was stopped and surrendered in response to the cannon shots of the Tornado, which had come in range. The captain protested that his papers were regular and that the Virginius was “an American ship, carrying American colors and papers, with an American captain and an American crew.” In response he was told that he was a pirate, his flag was lowered and trampled upon, and the Spanish flag was hoisted in its place.
During the chase after the Virginius, the passengers and crew of the fated vessel were in a state of panic. The cargo, which was made up of war material, was thrown overboard, and all persons on the vessel emptied their trunks of whatever might be considered suspicious. Almost from the instant of the capture the fate of the unfortunate men was assured, and they soon realized the extent of the danger that threatened them.
Verdict of the Spanish court-martial.
When the Tornado and the Virginius reached Santiago de Cuba the next day the 155 men captured were placed in close confinement and a court-martial was convened at once. The various courts-martial condemned most if not all of the prisoners to death, this summary proceeding being, as was alleged, in accordance with Spanish laws, so far at least as the character of the court and the nature of the judicial forms were concerned. The first executions were on the morning of November 4, when four men were shot, one of them being Brigadier Washington Ryan, who claimed British citizenship, as a Canadian, although he had served in the Union army during the late war. The victims were shot in the back, and their bodies were afterward beheaded, the heads displayed on spikes and the trunks trampled by horses. George W. Sherman, the correspondent of the New York Herald, tried to sketch the scene and was imprisoned for four days for his attempt. A guard kept the American consul in his house, so he could not appear to protest.
As the Virginius had displayed the American colors and was chartered and cleared as an American vessel, she had a prima facie claim to protection as such, until her right should be disproved. Hence Mr. E. G. Schmitt, the American vice-consul at Santiago, was prompt and urgent in demanding access to the prisoners, with a view to protecting the rights of the vessel and any on board who might be American citizens. He was treated with great discourtesy by the provincial governor, who told him in effect that it was none of his business, and persisted in declaring that they were all pirates and would be dealt with as such. Mr. Schmitt was even refused the use of the submarine cable to consult with the consul at Kingston, Jamaica. He would thus have been left entirely helpless but for the friendly aid of the British and French consuls.
On the 8th of November twelve more men were executed, and on the 13th thirty-seven were executed, this last batch including the officers and crew of the Virginius and most of the American citizens. At 4 o’clock in the afternoon the condemned men were marched to the place of execution, passing and saluting the American consulate, where the flag was not flying from its staff.
Captain Fry was shot first, and was the only man, though the soldiers stood but ten feet away, who fell dead at the first volley. The majority of the poor fellows, as the firing continued, were wounded, and killed as they lay on the ground by the usual Spanish fashion of firing rifles in the mouths of those who were disabled. The second engineer of the Virginius was among those executed. He had made a declaration to the Spanish that he had tampered with the engines and cut down the speed of the vessel so that she could be captured, and was marched with the rest to prevent his comrades from knowing that he was to be spared. He was shot by mistake while making frantic protests and explanations, but, as he was a traitor in one way or the other, his death was the only one of all that was never regretted.
Protests were unheeded.
During all this time the consuls at Santiago were not idle, but they were helpless. E. G. Schmitt, the American vice-consul, and Theodore Brooks, the British vice-consul, made all sorts of protests that were unavailing. Schmitt was not permitted to see the prisoners before or after the court-martial, until the very end, when he reached Captain Fry and signed his protest with him. He was not permitted the use of the telegraph in order to communicate with the government at Washington by way of Kingston, Jamaica.
He wrote repeated notes to Gen. Burriel, the Spanish commander at Santiago, getting no answer to them, until at last an answer came that was more irritating than silence. Burriel told him that he should have known that the previous day was a day of religious festival, during which he and all his officers were engaged in “meditation of the divine mysteries,” and could not consider temporal affairs. He also informed the consul that he might be expelled from the island for trying to embroil the United States and Spain in difficulties if he were not careful.
Then came the only bright spot in the whole affair. News of what was going on reached Jamaica, and the British gunboat Niobe, Captain Sir Lambton Lorraine, left for the scene of massacre, sailing in such a hurry that he left some of the crew ashore. The Captain landed at Santiago before his ship was anchored, and demanded that the slaughter be stopped instantly. He declared that he represented the United States as well as England, and that he would bombard the city if there was another American citizen executed. Ninety-three men were under sentence of death, many of whom were Americans, but the sentences were immediately suspended and the lives were saved. The Spanish afterward asserted that the executions were stopped because of orders received from Madrid.
The next time Sir Lambton Lorraine was in New York he was offered a reception, which he declined. He was presented, however, with a silver brick, on which were engraved the words: “Blood is thicker than water.” A resolution of thanks to him was laid on the table in the House of Representatives and never passed.
American demands for vengeance.
When the news of all this reached the United States, public indignation rose rapidly. Mass-meetings were held demanding vengeance on Spain. President Grant sent special messages to Congress, and the state department began diplomatic negotiations. Hamilton Fish, secretary of state, declared that the Virginius, having been registered as an American vessel carrying official documents regular upon their face and bearing the United States flag, was entirely beyond the jurisdiction of any other power on the high seas in the time of peace; that if she had secured fraudulent entry or committed any other fraud against the laws of the United States it was for her to be turned over to the United States courts for punishment, and not for her to be captured and punished by some other power.
The Spanish minister of foreign affairs at that time was Admiral Polo de Bernabe, father of the new Spanish minister who succeeded Dupuy de Lome. He wanted to submit the matter to arbitration, and Secretary Fish replied to him that the “United States was ready to refer to arbitration all questions properly subjects for reference, but that the question of an indignity to the flag of the nation and the capture in time of peace on the high seas of a vessel bearing that flag and having also the register and papers of an American ship, is not deemed to be one referable to other powers to determine. A nation must be the judge and custodian of its own honor.”
Most of the men were executed after protests to Madrid began to be made. Madrid mobs made a demonstration against the American minister, General Sickles. November 4, Secretary Fish cabled Sickles: “In case of refusal of satisfactory reparation within twelve days from this date close your legation and leave Madrid.” Ten days later, when the executions were over, he telegraphed: “If Spain cannot redress these outrages, the United States will.” Ten days after that he wired: “If no settlement is reached by the close of to-morrow, leave.” Next day Spain became tractable and war was averted.
By his conduct in Madrid at that time General Sickles made many friends of those Americans who wanted to see energetic action, and many enemies among those who wanted peace at any price. It was alleged afterward that the latter influence became dominant, and that his recall from that post was the result of their work to punish him for his energy that was not always diplomatic in its forms.
Settlement of the trouble.
The terms of settlement of the trouble were that the Virginius should be surrendered to an American warship, with the survivors of those who had been captured with her, and that on December 25 the United States flag should be saluted by the Tornado. The surrender was made in the obscure harbor of Bahia Honda, December 16, the Spanish having taken the Virginius there to avoid the humiliation of a surrender in Santiago or Havana, where it should have been made. Captain W. D. Whiting, the chief of staff of the North Atlantic Squadron, was appointed to receive the surrender of the Virginius, and the gunboat Dispatch was sent to Bahia Honda with him for that purpose. Lieut. Adolph Marix was the flag lieutenant of the Dispatch, the same who was afterwards the judge-advocate of the court of inquiry on the Maine disaster. The Virginius was delivered with the flag flying, but she was unseaworthy, and, struck by a storm off Cape Hatteras, was sunk on her way to New York. The salute to the flag that had been arranged was waived by the United States because the attorney-general gave an opinion that the Virginius had no right to fly the American flag when she was captured.
Major Moses P. Handy, afterwards famous as a journalist, was present at the surrender of the Virginius to the American men of war in the harbor of Bahia Honda, and gives a graphic account of the circumstances attending that ceremony. In concluding the tale he says: “The surrender of the surviving prisoners of the massacre took place in the course of time at Santiago, owing more to British insistence than to our feeble representation. As to the fifty-three who were killed, Spain never gave us any real satisfaction. For a long time the Madrid government unblushingly denied that there had been any killing, and when forced to acknowledge the fact they put us off with preposterous excuses. ‘Butcher Borriel,’ by whose orders the outrage was perpetrated, was considered at Madrid to have been justified by circumstances. It was pretended that orders to suspend the execution of Ryan and his associates were ‘unfortunately’ received too late, owing to interruption of telegraph lines by the insurgents, to whose broad and bleeding shoulders an attempt was thus made to shift the responsibility.
“There was a nominal repudiation of Borriel’s act and a promise was made to inflict punishment upon ‘those who have offended,’ but no punishment was inflicted upon anybody. The Spanish government, with characteristic double dealing, resorted to procrastination, prevarication and trickery, and thus gained time, until new issues effaced in the American mind the memory of old wrongs unavenged. Instead of being degraded, Borriel was promoted. Never to this day has there been any adequate atonement by Spain, much less an apology or expression of regret for the Virginius massacre.”
The amount of money paid to the United States government for distribution among the families of American sufferers by this affair was $80,000. And that is the extent of the reparation made for the shocking crime.
The Virginius, although the most conspicuous, was not the only American victim of Spanish misgovernment in Cuba during the Ten Years’ war. In 1877 the three whaling vessels, Rising Sun, Ellen Rizpah, and Edward Lee, while pursuing their legitimate business under the American flag, outside of Cuban waters, were fired upon and detained for days, with circumstances of peculiar hardship and brutality. The United States government investigated the outrage with care, and demanded of Spain an indemnity of $19,500. The demand, however, was not enforced, and the sum of $10,000 was accepted as a compromise settlement.
Operations op the ten years’ war.
The Two Wars Compared—The Havana Volunteers—The Slaughter at the Villaneuva Theater—The Court Martial of the Students—A Holiday in Havana—The Close of the War—The Treaty of Zanjon.
The reader who has watched closely the struggle in Cuba for the past three years need not be told that Spain has had every advantage in men, money, arms and ammunition. The same state of affairs existed during the Ten Years’ War. In fact, the inequality was even greater, for the Spanish army was then composed of experienced soldiers who were well fed, well clothed and paid regularly. In the present conflict many of them are boys who have been sent from home to make targets for insurgent bullets. They know comparatively nothing of military tactics, they have not been paid for months, and they lack food and clothing. The equipment of the insurgent forces in the former rebellion was even more limited than it has been in this one. While they did not experience serious difficulty in obtaining food, the implements of war in any quantities were beyond their reach. But the same spirit that gave courage to our American heroes in revolutionary times was in them, and for ten years they struggled bravely against overwhelming odds.
It is not possible to tell in detail of the monstrous cruelties practiced by the Spanish army during those years of carnage. Here is the testimony of one officer:
“We captured seventeen, thirteen of whom were shot outright; on dying they shouted, ’Hurrah for Free Cuba, hurrah for independence.’ A mulatto said, ‘Hurrah for Cespedes.’ On the following day we killed a Cuban officer and another man. Among the thirteen that we shot the first day we found three sons and their father. The father witnessed the execution of his sons without even changing color, and when his turn came he said he died for the independence of his country. On coming back we brought along with us three carts filled with women and children, the families of those we had shot, and they asked us to shoot them, because they would rather die than live among Spaniards.”
Another wrote:
“Not a single Cuban will remain in this island, because we shoot all that we find in the fields, on the farms and in every hovel. We do not leave a creature alive where we pass, be it man or animal. If we find cows we kill them, if horses, ditto, if hogs, ditto, men, women or children, ditto. As to the houses, we burn them. So every one receives his due, the men in balls, the animals in bayonet thrusts. The island will remain a desert.”
In the cities, outrages equally barbarous were committed.
The Havana volunteers.
The Havana volunteers, made up of the Spanish-born residents, in whose favor the government of the island has always been arranged, took possession of Havana, and put it under mob rule. In May, 1870, they marched out in front of the Villaneuva theater and fired volleys into the crowds that were entering. They had reason to believe, some of them said, that the performance to be given there was to raise funds for the insurgent cause.
So powerful was this organization that shortly after this outrage they placed the Captain-General of the island under arrest, and finally shipped him to Spain, sending word to the home government that he was not severe enough in his rule to suit their views, and suggesting that in case there were no Peninsulars who had the necessary stamina to govern Cuba according to their ideas, they might feel it advisable to assume command themselves.
On another occasion the dead body of one of these volunteers was placed in a public tomb in Havana, and the repository was found to have been defaced by scurrilous writing on the glass of the door. For no known reason, except a blood-thirsty desire for vengeance on someone, no matter whether guilty or innocent, it was claimed that the outrage was committed by some of the students of the university, and on complaint of the volunteer corps, forty-three of these young men were arrested.
They were arraigned before the military tribunal, and so manifestly unjust was the accusation that an officer of the regular army of Spain volunteered to defend them. There was absolutely no proof against them, and they were acquitted. But the volunteers were determined that their victims should not escape, and taking advantage of the fear in which they were held, even by the Havana officials, they forced the Governor-General to issue an order for a second courtmartial. At this examination they manipulated matters so that two thirds of the members of the trial board were connected with their organization, and a verdict of guilty was quickly rendered against all of the prisoners. Eight of them were sentenced to be shot, and the others to long terms of imprisonment at hard labor.
The day of the execution was a holiday in Havana. Bands of music paraded the streets, followed by the volunteers, 15,000 strong, while behind them, bound in chains, and under military guard, came the eight boys who had been condemned to die. Conscious of their innocence of any crime, they did not falter, but marched bravely to the place of execution, where they faced their murderers and fell, riddled by bullets from the rifles of the volunteers. The report of this affair sent a thrill of horror throughout the whole of the civilized world, and the perpetrators of the outrage were severely censured by the Spanish Cortes, but there was no attempt at punishment, nor were the ones who had been imprisoned released.
Meantime the war was being carried on in the provinces with varying success, but dissensions finally arose between the civil and military authorities of the republic of Cuba, and as “a house divided against itself cannot stand,” the effectiveness of the campaign was destroyed, and, in 1878, concessions were offered by the Spanish government, which were accepted by the revolutionists, and the struggle was abandoned.
What the outcome of the contest might have been, could it have been continued with the leaders united for its success, is an open question. As the years went by the rank and file of the Cuban army seemed to be more determined than ever to throw off the yoke, and the government in Spain became less prompt in sending supplies of men and money to carry on the war. They eagerly seized the opportunity to bring it to a close, and the treaty of Zanjon, which was signed by General Martinez Campos, the Spanish Governor-General of the island, and General Maximo Gomez, Commander-in-Chief of the Cuban army, promised many reforms, and gave amnesty to all who had taken part in the rebellion.
THE PEACE OF ZANJON AND ITS VIOLATED PLEDGES
Spanish Hypocrisy and Deceit—Cubans Denied Representation— Increase of Taxation—The Royal Edicts—A Plausible Argument, Which Is Not Borne Out by Facts—Spain’s Promises Always Broken.
If Spain had been sincere in the promises of reform she made her Cuban colony when the treaty of Zanjon was signed, it is probable that the present war would have never occurred. For while a few of the leaders—notably General Maceo—refused to become pacified, the great majority of the better classes were glad to accept a peaceful settlement on terms that gave them, in fact, if not in name, nearly every concession for which they had fought.
But it did not take them long to learn that they had been duped. Spain granted to Cuba the liberties of Puerto Rico, which had none. On this deceitful ground was laid the new situation, through which ran a current of falsehood and hypocrisy. Spain, whose mind did not change, hastened to change the name of things. The captain-general was called the governor-general. The royal decrees took the name of authorizations. The commercial monopoly of Spain was named coasting trade. The right of banishment was transformed into the law of vagrancy. The brutal attacks of defenseless citizens were called “componte.” The law of constitutional guarantees became the law of public order. Taxation without the consent or knowledge of the Cuban people was changed into the law of estimates (budget) voted by the representatives of Spain.
The painful lesson of the Ten Years’ War was entirely lost on Spain. Instead of inaugurating a redeeming policy that would heal the recent wounds, allay public anxiety, and quench the thirst for justice felt by the people, who were desirous to enjoy their natural rights, the Peninsula, while lavish in promises of reform, persisted in carrying on, unchanged, its old and crafty system, namely: to exclude every native Cuban from every office that could give him any effective influence and intervention in public affairs; the ungovernable exploitation of the colonists’ labor for the benefit of Spanish commerce and Spanish bureaucracy, both civil and military. To carry out the latter purpose it was necessary to maintain the former at any cost.
Mr. Clarence King, a recognized authority on political subjects connected with Cuban affairs, says:
“The main concession for which the insurgents accepted peace was the promise of constitutional reform. As a matter of fact, there promptly followed four royal edicts as follows: June 9, entitling Cuba to elect deputies to the Cortes, one for each 40,000 people; June 9, dividing the island into the present six provinces; June 21, instituting a system of provincial and municipal government, followed on August 16 by the necessary electoral regulations. But the system was immediately seen to be the shadow without the substance of self-government. The Provincial Assembly could nominate only three candidates for presiding officer. It was the inevitable governor-general who had the power to appoint, not necessarily one of the three nominees, but any member of the Assembly he chose. But all this provincial machinery is in reality an empty form, since expressly by law the governor-general was given the power to prorogue the assemblies at will. The deputies have never been able to accomplish anything in the Cortes. Moreover the crux of the whole financial oppression—tariff, taxes, and absolute control and expenditure of the revenue— remained with Spain.”
The loyal Spaniard insists that every agreement entered into by his government was faithfully carried out; that the Cubans were given from time to time even greater liberties than the treaty promised them; and that in several matters of importance, immunities have been granted them that the people of the mother country did not share.
The Assistant Colonial Secretary of Spain concludes a voluminous defense of the policy of his government in Cuba as follows:
There is thus no reason in Cuba to complain of the illiberality of the laws. If there has been any shortcoming in respect to morals, the nation is not to blame; none but the colonial provinces are to blame for this; if we proposed to seek comfort in comparisons, it would not be necessary to look for them in South America, in the countries that have emancipated themselves from the Spanish mother-country, because examples (some of them very recent) of acts of violence, anarchy and scandalous outbreaks could be found in the States of the Union itself.
In respect to another matter, a great deal of foolish talk is indulged in. From the statements of some people it would appear that Cuba does nothing but contribute, by the taxes which it pays, to alleviate the burdens of the peninsular treasury, whereas, in reality, just the contrary is the truth. The nation has, of late, guaranteed the conversion of Spanish debts in Cuba, which took place in 1886 and 1890. Owing to these operations, and to the fact that all taxes which did not have to be met directly by its government have been rigorously eliminated from the budget of Cuba, it was possible to reduce the Cuban budget from forty-six and one-half million dollars, which was its amount at the close of the former war (for the fiscal year of 1878-79) to a little more than twenty-three millions of dollars, as appears from the budget of 1893.
The financial laws have been assimilated, and if the system of taxation has not been entirely assimilated, this is because of the fact that direct taxes are very repugnant to the popular feeling in Cuba, especially the tax on land, which is the basis of the Peninsular budget. It appears, however, that our Cuban brethren have no reason to complain in this respect. The direct tax on rural property is two per cent, in Cuba, whereas in Spain it is seventeen, and even twenty per cent. It is evident that every budget must be based on something; in Cuba, as in all other countries in which the natural conditions are similar, that something must necessarily be the income from customs duties. Notwithstanding this, it may be remarked that in the years when the greatest financial distress prevailed, the Spanish Government never hesitated to sacrifice that income when it was necessary to do so in order to meet the especial need of the principal agricultural product of Cuba. Consequently the Spanish commercial treaty with the United States was concluded, which certainly had not been concluded before, owing to any fault of the Spanish Government. Under that treaty, the principal object of which was to encourage the exportation of Cuban sugar, which found its chief market in the States of the Union, many Spanish industries were sacrificed which have formerly supplied the wants of the people of Cuba, That sacrifice was unhesitatingly made, and now that the treaty is no longer in force, is due to the fact that the new American tariff has stricken sugar from the free list.
Attention may also be called to the fact that the colonial provinces alone enjoy exemption from the blood tax, Cuba never having been obliged to furnish military recruits.
The disqualifications of the Cubans to hold public office is purely a myth. Such disqualifications is found on the text of no law or regulation, and in point of fact there is no such exclusion. In order to verify this assertion it would be sufficient to examine the lists of Cuban officers, especially of those employed in the administration of justice and in all branches of instruction. Even if it were desired to make a comparison of political offices, even of those connected with the functions which are discharged in the Peninsula, the proportion would still be shown in which Spaniards in Cuba aspire to both. The fact is that a common fallacy is appealed to in the language habitually used by the enemies of Spain, who call persons “Peninsulars” who were not born in Cuba, but have resided there many years and have all their ties and interests there, and do not call those “Cubans” who were born there and have left the island in order to meet necessities connected, perhaps, with their occupation. This was done in the Senate, when the advocates of the separation of Cuba only were called “Cubans,” while those only who refused allegiance to the Spanish mother-country were called patriots.
In conclusion, I will relate a fact which may appear to be a joke, but which, in a certain way, furnished proof of what I have just said. When Rafael Gasset returned from Habana, he came and asked me for some data showing the proportion of Cubans holding office under our Government. I asked him, as a preliminary question, for a definition of what we were to understand by “Cuban” and what by “Peninsular.” He immediately admitted that the decision of the whole question was based upon that definition, and I called his attention to the fact that here, in the Ministry of the Colonies, at the present time, there are three high governmental functionaries. One is a representative from Habana, being at the same time a professor in its University, and another, viz., your humble servant, is a Spaniard because he was born in Habana itself. Is the other man a Peninsular, and am I not a Cuban?
Guillermo. Assistant Colonial Secretary of Spain.
This is the argument from the Peninsular standpoint, and it is probably made in good faith. But while the Spanish rule in Cuba may seem to be just and equitable in theory, it is oppressive and tyrannical in fact. While the government may have partly carried out the letter of its promises, there has been no effort to fulfill the spirit of the compact in the slighest degree, and the violated pledges of the treaty of Zanjon only add new chapters to the long record of Spanish treachery and deceit.
Preparations for another rebellion.
Spain’s Policy of Distrust—The Cost of the Ten Years’ War—Work of the Cuban Exiles—Revolutionary Clubs in the Western Hemisphere—An Expedition Checked—Heroism of Cuban Women—The Struggle Begun.
Ever since Spain lost her colonies on the American continent the Cubans have striven to gain their independence. The Ten Years War cost the mother country 300,000,000 pesetas and 100,000 men, most of them victims of yellow fever. When slavery was abolished in 1880 fresh disturbances ensued. The majority of slave holders, who received no compensation, joined the party of independence.
Spain, adhering to her old policy of distrust, retained a large army in Cuba and a navy round about her shores, the expenses of which caused the budget to amount to $46,594,000 at a time when two-thirds of the island was nothing but a mass of ruins, and when Cuba was beginning to feel the effects of the competition with other sugar-producing countries.
While the European manufacturers received important bounties those of Cuba had to pay export duties on their sugar, and the importation of all agricultural and industrial implements was subjected to a tariff almost prohibitive.
Two laws were enacted in 1882 to regulate commerce between Cuba and Spain. By the provisions of these laws the import duties on all Spanish products were to be gradually diminished until their importation in Cuba became entirely free, while the Cubans had to pay on their imports to Spain duties which practically closed the Spanish market to all their products.
Spanish goods, as a rule, are much inferior to those of English, French or American manufacture, but the Cuban consumer was forced to buy Spanish goods or pay an exorbitant price for those which he would have preferred to buy at a fair price. An instance will suffice to illustrate this: When the present war began in 1895 the duty on a hundred kilogrammes of woolen cashmere was fifteen dollars and forty-seven cents if Spanish, three hundred dollars if foreign. These differential duties opened a reign of prosperity for industry in Spain, where foreign goods were imported or smuggled, to be later sent to Cuba as Spanish.
The injustice of these commercial laws was so evident and so detrimental to the interests of Cuba that in 1894 the Planters’ Association, the president of which, the Count de Diana, was a Spaniard, referred to them as “destructive of our public wealth, a source of inextinguishable discontent and the germ of serious dissensions.”
The insular budgets could never be covered, and the result was that the public debt was kept on the increase. The expenditures were classed as follows: For army and navy, 36.59 per cent of the budget’s total; for the debt, 40.89; for justice and government, 19.77, and for public works, 2.75. No public work of any kind was begun in the seventeen years which intervened between the two wars.
The Cuban Treasury, between 1823 and 1864, sent to Spain $82,165,436 in gold. This money entered the Spanish Treasury as “Colonial surplus,” but as a Spanish writer (Zaragoza) says in his book, “Las Insurrecciones de Cuba,” it was absurd to speak of a surplus when not even the opening of a bad road was undertaken.
Politically, the condition of the Cubans after the restoration of peace in 1878, was as bad as it had been before. Laws existed which might lead unobserving persons to believe that the Cubans enjoyed every liberty, but as a matter of fact the Cubans were kept under the most unbearable vassalage. The Spaniards in Cuba before this war numbered only 9.30 per cent of the island’s population, but, availing themselves of a law which gave to them a majority in the electoral census, they were to return twenty-four of the thirty deputies which the island then sent to the Spanish Cortes.
So restrictive was the electoral law that only 53,000 men were qualified to vote in the entire island, although its population was 1,762,000. In the municipal district of Guines, with a population of 12,500 Cubans and 500 Spaniards, the electoral census included 400 Spaniards and thirty-two Cubans. This is one among many similar instances. The Board of Aldermen in Havana, the capital city of the island, has for years been made up entirely of Spaniards, and the same may be said of Cienfuegos and other important cities.
Despite all constitutional provisions the governor-general of the island had the power to deport from the island, without a trial, any person whose presence there he considered dangerous to the security of the State. The island was at peace when Cepeda, Lopez de Brinas and Marquez Sterling, all journalists, were deported. The liberty of the press was and still is a myth. El Pais, the Autonomist organ, was criminally prosecuted in 1889 because it denounced the appointment of one of the sons of the president of the Havana Court of Appeals to a place which he could not lawfully hold.
What liberty of association the Cubans enjoyed may be judged from the fact that a delegate of the government had to be present at their meetings, with power to dissolve them whenever he saw fit to do so.
No Cuban was able to obtain a place in the administration unless he was rich enough to go to Madrid and there become acquainted with some influential politician. Even so, Cubans seldom succeeded in being appointed to places of importance.
The Cuban exiles in Key West, New York and other cities in the United States, and in Costa Rica, Honduras, Santo Domingo and other parts of Spanish America, had been planning a new uprising for several years. The desire of the Cubans for national independence was quickened by what they suffered from Spain’s misgovernment. For two or three years the exiles in the United States and Spanish American countries, veterans of the war of 1868-78, and younger champions of free Cuba, organized clubs, collected a war fund, purchased munitions of war and laid plans with their compatriots in Cuba for a new struggle for independence. There were 140 revolutionary clubs in North and South America, Cuba and other West India islands, affiliated under the name of the revolutionary party, ready to
An expedition checked.
An expedition that planned to sail in the yacht Lagonda from Fernandina, Fla., on January 14, 1895, was broken up by the United States authorities. General Antonio Maceo, its leader, with Jose Marti, the political organizer of the new government, went to Santo Domingo, where they could confer with the revolutionist leaders living in Cuba. There Marti found Maximo Gomez, the veteran of a dozen struggles and a brave and able soldier, and offered him the command and organization of the army. Gomez accepted and began at once to arrange his programme.
The plan of the revolutionists was to rise simultaneously in the six provinces on February 24. The leaders on the island and the organizers abroad had a thorough understanding.
Heroism of Cuban women.
The men of Cuba were not alone in their plans for independence, for their wives and sisters, mothers and sweethearts, were enthusiastic and faithful allies. The island was full of devoted women reared in indolence and luxury who were tireless in their successful efforts to get word from, one scattered rebel band to another, and to send them food, medicines and clothing. These women were far better conspirators than their fathers and brothers, for Cuban men must talk, but the women seem to know the value of silence.
Beautiful and delicate senoritas would disguise themselves in men’s attire and steal out at night to the near-by haunts of lover or brother in the “Long Grass,” as the insurgents’ camps are called, with food secreted in false pockets, or letters, whose envelopes had been dipped in ink, hidden in their black hair. Medicines were carried in canes, and cloth for clothes or wounds was concealed in the lining of coats. One girl, disguised as a vender, frequently carried to the woods dynamite in egg shells deftly put together.
She had many thrilling experiences, but her narrowest escape was when a Spanish soldier by the roadside insisted on taking from the basket an egg, to let its contents drop in a hot and ready pan. He was with difficulty persuaded to forego the meal. The dynamite was made by another woman, who carefully obtained the ingredients at various times and at widely scattered drug stores.
And so, with almost every Cuban man, woman and child united in a fixed determination to make the island one of the free and independent nations of the earth, the final struggle was begun.
The Cuban junta and its work.
Organization Which Has Represented the Insurgents
in the United
States—Splendid Work Done by Senor Tomas
Estrada Palma and His
Staff—Sources of the War Funds—Generosity
of Cuban Cigar Makers
Who Have Supported the Revolution—Liberal
Gifts from Americans—
Some Inside Facts about Filibustering—American
Sailors Do Not
Like to Capture Insurgent Supplies—Palma’s
Address to the
American People.
From the moment of the first outbreak of insurrection in Cuba, in February, 1895, the name of the Cuban Junta has been a familiar phrase to everyone in the United States, and yet its functions and its organization have been by no means well understood. There have been those in Congress and elsewhere who have spoken of it slightingly as an organization banded together for its own profit in some way, not realizing that its members were the trusted representatives abroad of the whole Cuban people.
The parallels between the Cuban insurrection and that of the American colonies against Great Britain in 1776, are far more numerous than has been recognized. The Cuban army has been poorly clothed and scantily fed at times, and equipped with all sorts of obsolete weapons of offence. But these things are m> disgrace, and indeed are the basis of much of the pride that Americans take in the splendid work which their ancestors did in that other insurrection, which, having resulted successfully, is now known as the American Revolution. There have been sneers at the government of the Cuban republic because its officers have had to move from place to place at various times, in order to avoid threatened capture by the Spanish forces. But was there ever a more peripatetic national government than that of the American colonies during the Revolution, when the legislature and its officers sat successively in Philadelphia, Germantown, Princeton, New York and several other places, driven out of each in turn by the same fear of capture by British troops?
Finally, it ought to be remembered, though it may not be, that the colonies maintained an organization exactly similar to that of the Cuban Junta in New York, for the purpose of securing money and support from the people and the governments of Europe, to whom they were accredited. The only country which gave them welcome encouragement was France. But Benjamin Franklin’s position in Paris as the head of what was virtually the American Junta, was then and is now an honor to his name and his countrymen. It enlisted the same aid from France and French citizens that the Cuban Junta in New York has enlisted from the United States and American citizens, and there is no reason to form any less creditable judgment of the latter enterprise than the former.
Character of the work of the junta.
The Junta is the organization through which Cuba’s friends reach the Cubans in the field. In many places these friends are banded together and work for the Cuban cause as organizations. In the United States and Europe there are 300 Cuban revolutionary clubs, with a membership of more than 50,000. These clubs were the outcome of a suggestion originating with Jose Marti, and their organization has been accomplished by the delegation, with whom they are all in closest touch, to whom they all account, and through whom they all make contributions in money, clothing, provisions, arms, and munitions for those who are enduring the hardships of the war. Before the revolution began these clubs had $100,000 in bank as a war fund.
These most vital contributions must reach the army in the field, and it is the business of the delegation to see that they get there. And they have been getting there under most adverse and trying circumstances, and amid perils of land and sea where enemies are watching and where a friendly government has had to guard against the violation of neutrality laws.
For accomplishing its work the Junta has in no way been restricted in authority, the Cuban government having even granted special authority allowing Mr. Palma to issue a limited amount of bonds, coin money, and grant letters of marque.
It has further been the business of the Junta—attended by risk of life to its agents—to keep in communication with the insurgents. This has been done by secret agents who come and go from New York to Key West, from Key West to Havana, from Havana into Spanish cities of Cuba and through the provinces of the island.
The headquarters of the Junta bears no outward sign except that the stars and stripes and the single starred flag of Cuba wave from the third-story window, where is Mr. Palma’s office. A narrow hall and tortuous stairs lead to the office of the delegate, where on every side are signs of active business, with shelves, tables, and desks holding heaps of letters, books of accounts, and documents of various sorts. Here the delegate works, receives his friends, coworkers, and agents.
Off the main room is a private office, where secret agents report and are instructed, and where councils of moment are held and decisions of vital import to the Cuban cause reached, to be followed by orders that are of immense importance to the army of liberation.
The Cuban Junta, with its headquarters, represents the legation of the Cuban republic abroad, and the head of the Junta, as it is called, is T. Estrada Palma. Properly speaking he is the delegate, and with the members of his ministerial and diplomatic household constitutes the delegation of the Cuban republic.
The term “Junta” has been applied because such a body or council was attached to the diplomatic department of Cuba during the Ten Years’ war. As the authority of the Junta frequently restricted the action of the delegate, the promoters of the present revolution decided to eliminate it; yet the name remains, and is used and accepted to designate Mr. Palma and his associates.
Authority of the junta.
This Junta, as the representative of the Cuban republic, acts on high authority, for the delegation was appointed on September 19, 1895, by the Constituent Assembly that formed the government and commissioned Maximo Gomez chief commander of the Cuban army. At the same time it made Mr. Palma delegate and Cuban representative abroad, with authority to appoint ministers to all governments and to have control of all of Cuba’s diplomatic relations and representatives throughout the world. Besides this, Mr. Palma is the duly accredited minister from Cuba to the United States, and in the event of the Cuban republic being recognized would be received as such.
Under his authority Mr. Palma has appointed sub-delegates, or diplomatic agents, in France, Italy, Mexico, and the Central and South American republics. Cuba’s independence not being acknowledged by these nations, her ministers are not officially recognized, but are often unofficially received at the “back door,” and exert an influence for the benefit of Cuba in the countries to which they are appointed.
Mr. Palma is in reality the head of the Cuban revolutionary party abroad, which is one of the three departments of the Cuban revolutionary government, the two others being the civil government and the army of liberation.
This Cuban revolutionary branch was founded by Jose Marti, who is regarded by the Cubans as the apostle and master mind of the Cuban revolution.
Mr. Palma is not only the head and front of the Junta, but he is the one person in whom its authority is centered. He was born in Cuba about sixty years ago, and in his tender youth imbibed the spirit of liberty for the island, a spirit which grew with him until it influenced his every word and act, and finally received his entire devotion. So direct, gentle, yet determined are his methods, and so unassuming and plain is he in speech and manner that he soon became known as the “Cuban Franklin,” and more firmly has the name become attached to him since the potent influence of his policy has been felt throughout the world.
During the Ten Years’ war Mr. Palma was President of the Cuban republic; was made prisoner by Spanish troops, and sent to Spain, where he was imprisoned until the close of the conflict. While in Spain, absolutely suffering under the hardships of imprisonment, he was offered freedom if he would swear allegiance to the Spanish crown.
“No!” was his answer. “You may shoot me if you will, but if I am shot it will be as the President of the Cuban republic.”
Besides Mr. Palma, the only members of the delegation appointed by the Cuban government are: Dr. Joaquin D. Castillo, the sub-delegate; Benjamin J. Guerra, treasurer of the republic abroad, and Gonzalo de Quesada, charge d’affaires at Washington.
Dr. Castillo is vice-delegate and would take Mr. Palma’s place in case of his death or inability to act.
Sources of the war funds.
The Junta, whose duty it has been to provide the funds for the carrying on of the war, has had various sources of income, all of them distinctly creditable, both to the integrity of the Cuban authorities and to the sentiments of those who have contributed the money. The larger portion of the cash has come in small contributions from Cubans living in the United States. The cigarmakers of Key West, Tampa, Jacksonville, New York and other cities where large Cuban colonies have congregated, have proven their patriotism and their adherence to the cause by giving more generously of their earnings than has ever been done before by the people of any country struggling for freedom. There is scarcely an exception to the assertion that every Cuban in America has shared in contributions to the war fund.
The minimum contribution has been ten per cent of the weekly earnings, and this has brought an enormous sum into the coffers of the Junta for war purposes. It is true that a war chest of $50,000 or $100,000 a week would be hardly a drop in the bucket for the conduct of the war after the established methods of organized armies. But this has been a war for liberty, and the conditions have been unique. No soldier in all the armies of Cuba Libre has ever drawn one dollar of pay for his service. Thousands of them have been fighting from the first outbreak of insurrection, without receiving a cent of money for it. If the pay of an army be deducted from the expenses of a war, the largest item is saved.
Nor has it been necessary to purchase many clothes, owing to the mildness of the Cuban climate, which fights in favor of those who are accustomed to it. The commissary department, too, has been almost non-existent, and the soldiers in the field have lived by foraging and by collecting the vegetables and fruits saved for them by the women and children, whose hearts are as deep in the conflict as are their own. The principal demand for money has been to procure arms, ammunition and medical and surgical supplies.
In addition to the contributions which have come from patriotic Cubans, another large source of income to the Junta has been the silent liberality of many American citizens, who have proved their practical sympathy to the cause of freedom by giving of their wealth to aid it. Outside of these sources, the only income has been from the sale of bonds of the Cuban republic, a means of obtaining money which has been used conservatively, so that the infant republic should not be saddled with a heavy debt at the outset of its career as an independent nation.
Aside from the contributions of money to the Cuban powers, enormous quantities of medical and surgical supplies and hospital delicacies have been offered by the generous people of the United States, organized into Cuban Auxiliary Aid Societies in the various cities of the country. American women have taken a prominent part in this movement and have won thereby the undying gratitude of the Cubans.
Some facts about filibustering.
The sailing of vessels from New York and other ports with cargoes of supplies for the Cuban revolutionists has been a frequent occurrence, far more so than has been known to the public. Filibustering is a phrase that has gained honor during these three years, such as it never had before. Carried on in the cause of humanity and liberty, its motives justified its irregularities, and there have been few to condemn the practice. In the fogs of an early morning, some fast steamer would slip away from an Atlantic port, loaded with arms, ammunition, quinine, and all sorts of hospital, medical and surgical supplies, accompanied usually by a band of Cuban patriots, seeking the first opportunity to return to their beautiful island and take up arms for its liberation. There have been a few such expeditions captured, but for everyone captured a score have reached their destination on the Cuban coast without interruption, and have landed their cargo in safety in insurgent camps.
The United States government, in recognition of its diplomatic obligations, spent millions of dollars prior to the outbreak of our war with Spain, in carrying on a patrol service of the Atlantic coast and the Gulf of Mexico, to prevent the sailing of filibustering expeditions. Now that the day of such patrol service in the aid of Spain is ended forever, there can be no harm in telling some of the details that might have been compromising before.
American cruisers and gunboats were stationed in the harbors around the coast, from New York to New Orleans, and particularly on both sides of the Florida peninsula. To one of these vessels would come the news that a suspected filibustering craft was likely to sail from a certain place at a certain time, and orders would be given to intercept the rover if possible. To one who did not know the temper and the spirit of American sailors from highest to lowest in the service of the navy, the actions that followed might have been puzzling. In spite of the proverbial alacrity and readiness with which an American vessel can make sail, there was always a delay at such times. It was almost certain that something would be wrong that would require some time to correct before the anchor could be weighed. It might be necessary to buy provisions or to take on coal before sailing, and then, more than once after the anchor was weighed and the actual start begun, it would be discovered that some minor accident had occurred to the machinery, which would require another halt to repair it. Finally at sea, the cruiser would steam away at full speed in the direction of the reported filibuster, until her hull and even her smoke disappeared far down in the horizon.
Capturing of filibustering vessels.
What happened after that no one ashore could know. But more than once there were grave suspicions that other delays occurred as goon as the vessel was well out of sight, or that the course was changed in pursuit of some other passing vessel, until after a few hours’ chase it would be discovered to be an unoffending craft, and the course would be resumed towards the goal, as first ordered.
However these things may be, it is certain that the capture of a filibustering vessel before her cargo was discharged was an almost unknown event, and that the capture of such a craft after her cargo was discharged could in no way be disastrous to the Cuban cause when nothing could be proved against the boat or her men. Certain it is that no officer or sailor in the American navy ever wanted to capture a filibuster. To an American it was a blot on the honor of the ship that it should be used to intercept arms and ammunition on their way to an oppressed people struggling for their freedom. It is safe to say that the two or three captures which were made of filibusters at such a time that their confiscation and the conviction of their officers could not be avoided, was a distinct grief to every man who participated in the chase and the punishments that followed.
No one can deny the integrity or the ability of the men who are enlisted in the cause of Cuba as the New York Junta, who knows the facts as to their personality and the work they have done. Some of the diplomatic and state papers which have been issued by Senor Palma are worthy to take rank with the utterances of any American who has gained fame in national history for similar work. A notable instance of the dignity and the eloquence with which he speaks, is found in the proclamation to the people of the United States which he issued but a few weeks before the outbreak of our war with Spain. He said:
Senor Palma on the Spanish concessions.
“The persistency with which the American press has during the last few days been treating of supposed administrative reforms to be introduced in Cuba by the government of Spain, compels me to request the publication of the following declarations, which I make in behalf of my government, of the army of liberation of Cuba, and of the Cuban revolutionary party.
“The question of the proposed reforms is not a matter which at all concerns those who have already established an independent government in Cuba and have resolved to shrink from no sacrifice of property or life in order to emancipate the whole island from the Spanish yoke. If the Spanish residents of the island who are favored by the Spanish government with all sorts of privileges and monopolies, and if the handful of Cubans, too pusillanimous or too proud to acknowledge their error, or a few foreigners guided only by selfish interests, are satisfied that Cuba should remain under Spanish domination, we who fight under the flag of the solitary star, we who already constitute the Republic of Cuba, and belong to a free people with its own government and its own laws, are firmly resolved to listen to no compromise and to treat with Spain on the basis of absolute independence for Cuba.
“If Spain has power to exterminate us, then let her convert the island into a vast cemetery; if she has not and wishes to terminate the war before the whole country is reduced to ashes, then let her adopt the only measure that will put an end to it and recognize our independence. Spain must know by this time that while there is a single living Cuban with dignity—and there are many thousands of them—there will not be peace in Cuba, nor even hope of it.
“All good causes must finally triumph, and ours is a good cause. It is the cause of justice treated with contempt, of right suppressed by force, and of the dignity of a people offended to the last degree.
“We Cubans have a thousandfold more reason in our endeavors to free ourselves from the Spanish yoke than the people of the thirteen colonies had when in 1776 they rose in arms against the British government.
Comparisons with the American colonies.
“The people of these colonies were in full enjoyment of all the rights of man; they had liberty of conscience, freedom of speech, liberty of the press, the right of public meeting and the right of free locomotion; they elected those who governed them, they made their own laws and, in fact, enjoyed the blessings of self-government. They were not under the sway of a captain-general with arbitrary powers, who at his will could imprison them, deport them to penal colonies, or order their execution even without the semblance of a court-martial. They did not have to pay a permanent army and navy that they might be kept in subjection, nor to feed a swarm of hungry employes yearly sent over from the metropolis to prey upon the country.
“They were never subjected to a stupid and crushing customs tariff which compelled them to go to the home markets for millions of merchandise annually, which they could buy much cheaper elsewhere; they were never compelled to cover a budget of $26,000,000 or $30,000,000 a year, without the consent of the tax-payers, and for the purposes of defraying the expenses of the army and navy of the oppressor, to pay the salaries of thousands of worthless European employes, the whole interest on a debt not incurred by the colony, and other expenditures from which the island received no benefit whatever; for out of all those millions only the paltry sum of $700,000 was apparently applied for works of internal improvement and one-half of this invariably went into the pockets of the Spanish employes.
“We have thrown ourselves into the struggle advisedly and deliberately; we knew what we would have to face, and we decided unflinchingly to persevere until we should emancipate ourselves from the Spanish government. And we know that we are able to do it, as we know that we are competent to govern ourselves.
“Among other proofs which could be adduced of the ability of the Cuban white and colored to rule themselves, is the strong organization of the Cuban revolutionary party in America, It is composed of more than 20,000 Cubans, living in different countries of the new world and formed into clubs, the members of which yearly elect their leader. This organization has been in existence over five years, during which every member has strictly discharged his duties, has respected without any interruption the regulations and obeyed the elected delegate loyally and faithfully. Among the members of the clubs there are several Spaniards,
“The revolution is powerful and deeply rooted in the hearts of the Cuban people, and there is no Spanish power, no power in the world, that can stop its march. The war, since General Weyler took command of the Spanish army, has assumed a cruel character. His troops shoot the Cuban prisoners, pursue and kill the sick and wounded, assassinate the unarmed, and burn their houses. The Cuban troops, on their part, destroy, as a war measure, the machinery and buildings of the sugar plantations and are firmly resolved not to leave one stone upon another during their campaign.
“Let those who can put an end to this war reflect that our liberty is being gained with the blood of thousands of Cuban victims, among whom is numbered Jose Marti, the apostle and martyr of our revolution. Let them consider that before the sacred memory of this new redeemer there is not a single Cuban who will withdraw from the work of emancipation without feeling ashamed of abandoning the flag which on the 24th of February, 1895, was raised by the beloved master.
“It is time for the Cuban people to satisfy their just desire for a place among the free nations of the world and let them not be accused if to accomplish their noble purpose they are obliged to reduce to ashes the Cuban land.
Tomas Estrada Palma.”
Key west and the Cubans.
Cuban Refugees in Key West—Their Devotion
to the Cause—
Peculiarities of the Town—Odd Sights and
Sounds—Filibusters and
Their Work—The First Authorized Expedition—It
Is a Failure—The
Second More Successful—Landing Supplies
for the Insurgents—
Captain Jose Lacret, and Some of His Adventures.
The island of Key West lies sixty miles south of Cape Sable, the most southerly point of the mainland of Florida, and is seven miles long and from one to two miles broad. The city covers nearly one-half of the island and has a population of about 25,000. Key West has been described as being “to Cuba what Gibraltar is to Ceuta, to the Gulf of Mexico what Gibraltar is to the Mediterranean.” It is one of the chief naval stations of the United States and is strongly fortified.
The most important industry is the making of cigars, which gives employment to thousands of Cubans, who make up a large majority of the population, and many of whom are refugees, charged with political crimes, with a price set upon their heads. One of the most important divisions of the Cuban Junta of the United States has its headquarters here. Almost every Cuban in Key West gives regularly a portion of his earnings to the cause, and many cargoes of arms, ammunition and supplies have been sent to the insurgents by their brethren on this little island. The city is unique in many respects. It is made up of innumerable little wooden houses, without chimneys, but crowded in irregular groups. Many of the houses have wooden shutters in place of glass windows.
On most of the streets there are no sidewalks, but people stumble over the jagged edges of coral rock. There are a great number of public vehicles, and one can be hailed at any corner and engaged for 10 cents. Some of these carriages are quite respectable in appearance. They are generally double-seated affairs, which have been discarded in the north. The horses are wrecks, and they show by their appearance that fodder is dear and that they are not half fed.
One of the sounds of Key West is the whacking of the horses which draw the carriages and the mules which move the street cars from place to place.
The street cars look as if they had been dug up from the neighborhood of the pyramids. Ropes are used for reins, and the only substantial thing about the whole outfit is the great rawhide whip, with which the street-car driver labors incessantly. The people, as a rule, are opposed to excessive exertion, but they make an exception in the case of labor with a whip.
Journalism, climate and dogs.
The town has one struggling newspaper, which is worthy of a better support. It is told of the editor that he came to Key West a barefooted boy from Georgia, and worked his way up to his present eminent position of instructor in etiquette and ethics to the four hundred.
Hundreds of dogs, cats, roosters, goats, and “razorbacks” run at large through the streets, and the three former combine to make night hideous. In the early evening the sound of negro meetings and jubilations predominates. Then the cats begin where the shouters leave off. Later, the dogs, sneaking and sore-eyed, and more numerous than any other species, take up the refrain. They howl and bark and keep on howling and barking, until sleep seems impossible. At last, when the wakeful man thinks the row is over, the roosters, the meanest, skinniest, loudest-mouthed roosters in the world, continue the serenade until death seems a welcome, especially the death of the roosters.
Negroes alone are patriotic.
There is a strange mixture of races at Key West, but the negroes are the most patriotic class. They alone celebrate the Fourth of July and other national holidays. While the town has its enlightened and respectable people, it also has a shoddy class, whose ignorance of the rest of the world carries them to grotesque extremes in their efforts to proclaim their greatness.
Even in its schools Key West is peculiar. The schoolhouses are built like cigar factories, and each has mounted upon the roof the bell of an old locomotive. When the school bells are ringing it is easy to close your eyes and imagine yourself in one of the great railway depots of the north.
The first authorized expedition.
Prior to the commencement of our war with Spain the United States authorities kept a close watch on the Cubans in Key West, and made every effort to prevent the shipment of supplies to the insurgents. But as soon as the conflict was begun there was a change in the policy and the government assisted the work in every possible way. The first expedition was a failure. Under command of Captain Dorst of the United States army the transport steamer Gussie sailed from Key West with two companies of infantry on board, in charge of 7,000 rifles and 200,000 rounds of ammunition, intended for the insurgents of Pinar del Rio. The supplies were to be conveyed to General Gomez by a force of insurgents encamped three miles back from the coast.
But the cargo was not landed, for the reason that the insurgents were unable to meet the landing party at the rendezvous, and Captain Dorst was compelled to return to Key West with his cargo. The second attempt was more successful. Nearly 400 men, with a pack train and a large quantity of arms and ammunition, sailed on the Plant line steamer Florida from Key West, on the night of May 21. These men and the equipment constituted an expedition able to operate independently and to defend itself against any body of Spanish troops which might oppose it.
The expedition was under the command of Captain Jose Lacret, formerly insurgent commander in Matanzas province. He assumed the direction of affairs immediately on the landing of the expedition. Until then General Joaquin Castillo was in control.
In the landing of the expedition the United States army was represented by Captain J. A. Dorst, and Tomas Estrada Palma was represented by J. E. Cartaya, who has been the landing agent of nearly every filibustering expedition for more than a year. Messrs. Castillo, Cartaya and Dorst returned to Key West. General Julio Sanguilly, on his way to report to General Maximo Gomez, was also on the boat.
Most powerful of them all.
This was the most powerful anti-Spanish expedition sent to Cuba up to that date. About 300 of the men were Cubans, the others Americans. The engineer corps of the expedition was composed entirely of Americans under Aurelian Ladd.
The men were dressed in canvas uniforms furnished by the United States government, and the commissary department had rations enough to last fifteen days after the landing. The pack train consisted of seventy-five mules and twenty-five horses. The expedition carried 7,000 rifles and 3,000,000 rounds of ammunition for General Calixto Garcia.
General Sanguilly’s return.
General Sanguilly’s return to Cuba is a remarkable incident in his extraordinary career. His gallant services in the Ten Years’ War, his arrest in Havana at the beginning of the present insurrection, his sentence to death and his release at the intercession of Secretary Sherman on a promise to remain outside of Cuba have made him a conspicuous man.
The expedition was convoyed by the cruiser Marblehead, the torpedo-boat destroyer Eagle and other warships. Two younger brothers of the late General Nestor Aranguren are with the expedition.
Some of Lacret’s adventures.
When the present revolution in Cuba began General Jose Lacret Morlot, by which title he is popularly known, secured passage on the steamer Mascotte for Jamaica on his way to Cuba. The English government had information regarding Lacret’s movements and prevented his sailing for Cuba from Jamaica. He then went to Mexico and later to New York. At the latter place he consulted with the junta and returned to Tampa. Here he embarked on the steamer Olivette for Havana in the garb of a priest.
Still in this disguise he boarded a train for Sagua la Grande. Accompanying him were a large number of Spanish soldiers. His being highly educated, a man of good presence and a “padre” were sufficient to give him entrance into the best Spanish society of Sagua la Grande. Lacret stopped at the finest hotel, and when in the cafe sat at the alcalde’s right hand.
After communicating with the insurgents the “padre” suddenly disappeared from the hotel. He joined the insurgents, and, throwing off his priestly disguise, has since performed valorous service for the cause of Cuban freedom. He was transferred to the province of Matanzas soon after his arrival, and his career there will form an interesting chapter in the history of Cuba. From Matanzas province he was sent to the eastward as a delegate to the assembly held in Puerto Principe last February, at which the new government was formed. From this assembly he was directed to come to this country as a bearer of dispatches to the junta.
When the Florida, escorted by the Osceola, drew up close to the shore at the place selected for the landing, she sent scouts to see if all was clear. These scouts were greeted by Generals Feria and Rojas, with about 1,500 armed insurgents. Therefore, far from there being any hostile demonstration upon the part of the Spaniards, the landing of the expedition was in the nature of a triumphal invasion. The Cubans, who were in waiting for the party, had a brass band and welcomed the newcomers with national airs.
The work of unloading the cargo of the Florida was promptly begun and carried on by the 432 men composing the expedition. There was nothing in the nature of interruption and the work was soon finished.
Had it all their own way.
While the cargo was being unloaded the Osceola, an auxiliary gunboat, with her guns ready for action, scouted about the vicinity looking for an enemy. But the Spaniards apparently had no suspicion of what was taking place. So easily was the dangerous mission accomplished that while some members of the party were getting the supplies ashore others were providing themselves with fruit, sugar and other products of the landing place, a large stock of which was brought back for Key West friends.
The moment the work was concluded the Florida and the Osceola slipped away, leaving the insurgents to convey their re-enforcements into the interior, which was done without any casualty.
The returning members of the Florida party brought with them several hundred private letters, which give a complete insight into the conditions prevailing in the blockaded island.
Another stroke for freedom.
The Beginning of the Revolt—Martial Law Declared in Santiago and Matanzas—Arrival of Campos—The Blacks as Soldiers—No Caste Prejudices—General Santocildes Killed—A Story of Maceo—Campos’ Campaign Fails—He Returns to Spain.
It was the intention of the insurgents to begin operations in the six provinces on the same date, but at the appointed time three of them failed to carry out the plan, and in only one was the aspect at all threatening. In Havana and Matanzas the Spanish officials had no difficulty in suppressing the insurrectionists, and the leader in the former province, the editor of a newspaper, accepted a pardon and returned to his work.
In Santiago, however, which is thinly settled, the movement gained ground steadily. The landing of a party of revolutionists from San Domingo aroused the patriots, and were welcomed warmly, being supplied with re-enforcements wherever they appeared. The government professed to be merely annoyed, nothing more, and pretended to look upon the patriots as mere brigands. Calleja became alarmed at last when the determination of the insurgents became known, and proclaimed martial law in Santiago and Matanzas, and sent forces to both provinces. He could put only nine thousand men in the field, however, and had only seven gunboats for coast duty at his command. The commissary arrangements were miserable, and frequently caused the interruption of important movements. The insurgents were most ubiquitous, and would appear here and there without the slightest warning, making raids on plantations, which they plundered, and from which they enticed away the laborers, disappearing in the swamps, where pursuit was impossible, and appearing again in a day or so in some unexpected spot, and repeating the same maneuvers. In this manner they terrorized the loyalists, and ruined their prospects of raising a crop, and as many depended solely upon the soil for their living this method of warfare struck them a vital blow.
At the end of March, 1895, Antonio Maceo, with sixteen comrades, sailed from Costa Rica and landed at Baracoa, on the eastern end of the island. They were surprised by a Spanish cavalry, but kept up an intermittent fight for several hours, when Maceo managed to elude his enemies and escape. After living in the woods for ten days, making his way westward, he met a party of rebels, was recognized and welcomed with great enthusiasm. He took command of the insurgents in the neighborhood and began to get recruits rapidly. He engaged in several sharp encounters with the Spanish and did such effective service that the moral effect was noticed immediately. He and his brother Jose were made generals.
About the middle of April Maximo Gomez and Jose Marti landed from San Domingo at about the same point where the Maceos had landed. For days they were obliged to secrete themselves in a cave on account of the presence of the enemy’s pickets, but they finally reached an insurgent camp, and Gomez entered upon his duties as commander-in-chief. The insurgents now had an experienced leader at their head, re-enforcements poured in, and they soon had a force of six thousand men.
Arrival of Campos.
The government had issued new calls for troops, and in April no less than twenty-five thousand men were raised. Martinez Campos came over from Spain, arriving at Santiago on April 16, and went at once to Havana, where he relieved Calleja as captain-general. Campos was a veteran, and expected to crush the insurrection at once, but day by day his task grew more difficult.
Gomez and Maceo, instead of being driven hither and thither, led Campos a dance, and he was prevented from solidifying the two trochas he had formed. Gomez never attempted pitched battles or sieges, but harassed the enemy in every way possible, cutting off their convoys, picking them off in detail, getting up night alarms, and in every way annoying them. His hardened soldiers, especially the negroes, could stand hardships and still keep in good fighting condition, but with the Europeans, what between yellow fever and the constant alarms of war, it was a different story. No European soldier could live under the hardships and exposures which seemed to put life into the negro soldiers.
No caste prejudices.
It must be understood that there is no caste feeling between the negro and the pure-blooded Cuban. They march, eat and sleep side by side. Moreover, the negroes make excellent soldiers, with finer physique than the Cubans themselves, and equal powers of endurance.
The Cuban is small in stature compared to the American soldier, but he is well set up, wiry, and apparently has unlimited staying powers. He frequently lives on one meal a day, and that a poor one, but he shows no signs whatever of being ill-fed; in fact, he seems to thrive on it, and he has an uncomfortable habit of marching six hours in the morning on an empty stomach, which would be fatal to the ordinary Anglo-Saxon.
About the first of July, Maceo, still in the province of Santiago, concentrated the forces in the Holguin district and moved against Bayamo, capturing one provision train after another that were en route to that place. Campos took fifteen hundred men, with General Santocildes second in command, and went to the relief of Bayamo. About the middle of July he was attacked several miles from Bayamo by Maceo with twenty-seven hundred rebels. He and his entire staff narrowly escaped capture, and only the bravery of General Santocildes averted this catastrophe. The brave general lost his life and the Spaniards were forced to fly, after having fought for five hours, surrounded on all sides by the rebels. They finally made their escape to Bayamo, the rear guard covering their retreat with great difficulty.
Flor Crombet had fallen in battle several weeks before this fight and Marti had been killed in an insignificant fight at Dos Rios. Gomez had passed into Camaguay to add fire to the insurrection and Maceo had been left in command in the province of Santiago. To him was Campos indebted for his defeat. He escaped capture as if by intuition. A new snare had been spread for him by Maceo after the death of Santocildes, and he was already within its meshes, when, intuitively divining the situation, he came to an about face and fled to Bayamo by an unused road, covered by impassable thickets in the rear of Maceo’s victorious troops.
The Spaniards were rapidly re-enforced after the escape to Bayamo, and Maceo, with Quintin Bandero, began to fall back to his impregnable mountain retreat at Jarahuica. This was in the heart of Santiago de Cuba, over a hundred miles east of Bayamo and twenty-five miles northeast of the port of Santiago. His war-worn army needed rest, recruits, and supplies. Once in his mountain fastness, he was perfectly secure, as no Spanish army would trust itself in the rocky range. News of his movements had reached Santiago and a strenuous effort was being made to head him off at San Luis, a railroad town fifteen miles north-west of that city. Nothing, however, escaped the observation of the Cuban general. With wonderful prescience he anticipated the movements of the Spaniards. His troopers were armed with machetes and the infantry with rifles and ammunition captured at Paralejo. Bandera commanded this band of blacks. The march had been terrific, and horses and men were nearly fagged. With sparse supplies the pace had been kept up for hours. The sun had gone down and the moon was flooding the fronds of the palms with pale, silvery light. Maceo held a short conference with Quintin Bandera, and not long afterward the blacks wheeled in column and disappeared.
Meantime the Cuban cavalry continued its course. By midnight it had reached Cemetery Hill, overlooking the town of San Luis. The moon was half way down the sky. Maceo sat upon his horse surveying the scene below him long and silently. The little town was aglow with electric lights and the whistle of locomotives resounded in the valley. Over three thousand Spanish troops were quartered in the town and their movements were plainly discernible. Trains were arriving hourly from Santiago, bearing strong re-enforcements. Through a field-glass Maceo watched the stirring scene. He turned the glass beyond the town and gazed through it patiently, betraying a trace of anxiety. Finally he alighted and conferred with Colonel Miro, his chief of staff. A moment afterward came the order to dismount. Three hundred troopers obeyed and were about to tether their horses when they were called to attention. A second order reached their ears. They were told to stand motionless, with both feet on the ground, and to await further orders with their right hands’ on their saddles. In the moonlight beneath the scattered palms they stood as silent as if petrified.
A story of Maceo.
Among them there was a newspaper correspondent who had known Maceo many years, and who had parted with him at Port Limon, in Central America, a few months before. He had joined the column just after the battle of Paralejo. In obedience to orders he stood with his arm over the back of his horse, blinking at the enlivening scene below him. Exhausted by the day’s march, his eyes closed and he found it impossible to keep awake. A moment later he fastened the bridle to his foot, wrapped himself in his rubber coat, placed a satchel under his head, and fell asleep in the wet grass. The adjutant soon awoke him, telling him that he had better get up, as they were going to have a fight. He thanked the adjutant, who told him there were over three thousand Spanish soldiers in San Luis and that it was surrounded with fourteen blockhouses. The correspondent soon curled himself on the grass a second time and was in a sound slumber, when he was again aroused by the adjutant, who told him he was in positive danger if he persisted in disobeying the order of General Maceo. A third time his heavy eyelids closed and he was in a dead sleep, when startled by a peremptory shake. Jesus Mascons, Maceo’s secretary, stood over him. “Get up this instant,” said he. “The general wants to see you immediately.”
In a few seconds the correspondent was on his feet. The whistles were still blowing and the electric lights still glowing in the valley, and the moon was on the horizon. He went forward in some trepidation, fancying that the general was going to upbraid him for disobeying his orders. He was surprised to find him very pleasant. Maceo always spoke in a low tone, as he had been shot twice through the lungs.
“Are you not hungry?” he asked.
“No,” the correspondent replied, wondering what was in the wind.
“I thought possibly you might want something to eat,” General Maceo said, with a smile. “I have a boiled egg here and I want to divide it with you.” As he uttered these words he drew out his machete and cut the egg straight through the center. Passing half of it to the correspondent, he said: “Share it; it will do you good.” The newspaper man thanked the general and they ate the egg in silence. He said afterward that the incident reminded him of General Marion’s breakfast with a British officer. He had read the incident in Peter Parley’s history of the revolution, when a schoolboy. Marion raked a baked sweet potato out of the ashes of a camp fire and divided it with his British guest. The officer regretted the absence of salt, and the correspondent said he experienced the same regret when he ate his portion of General Maceo’s egg.
After munching the egg both men sat for some time observing the stirring scene in the valley below them. The moon had gone down, but in the glow of the electric lights they could see that the activity among the Spaniards was as great as ever. Suddenly Maceo turned to the correspondent and said abruptly: “Were you asleep when Jesus called you?”
“Oh, no,” the correspondent replied, “I was not asleep; I was only just tired—that was all.”
The general looked at him searchingly and then said: “Don’t worry; it is all right. We are going through that town in a few minutes. There may be a fierce fight, and you will need a clear head. The egg will give you strength.”
Within twenty minutes the little columns of three hundred men were on the move. They led their horses down the hill about an hour before daybreak, with the general in the lead. Silently and stealthily they entered the outskirts of the town. The columns passed two blockhouses without being observed and at the break of day were beyond the town on the main road to Bauabacoa. Meantime the Spaniards had discovered them. The town was aroused and a hundred and fifty Spanish cavalry headed the pursuit. The road wound through fields of cane. A strong column of Spanish infantry followed the cavalry. Maceo held his men in reserve and continued his march, the Spanish troopers trailing after them like so many wildcats.
Suddenly, to their astonishment, Quintin Bandera’s infantry arose on either side of the road and almost annihilated the pursuing column. Those who escaped alarmed the columns of infantry, who returned to San Luis to fortify themselves. Maceo and Bandera camped on the estate of Mejorana, about six miles away. It was here that Marti, Gomez, the two Maceos, Crombet, Guerra, and Rabi met not long before this to inaugurate the new revolution. Bandera and Maceo found plenty of provisions at the estate, but no bread. A small Cuban boy was sent to the Spanish commander at San Luis with a note requesting him to be so kind
Campos’ campaign fails.
Before the end of the year Campos’ campaign was admitted to be a failure. He could not depart from his humane policy, however, and at the beginning of the year 1896 he returned to Spain. The rabid Spaniards of Havana, having compelled Campos to tender his resignation, demanded from Canovas a captain-general framed in the old iron cast of the Spanish conquerors, not to fight battles and risk his life in the field, but to exterminate the native population. In their belief, women, children, everyone born in Cuba, should be held responsible for the situation. They did not like a soldier with a gallant career and personal courage. They wanted an executioner. Canovas satisfied them and appointed Don Valeriano Weyler y Nicolau to succeed Martinez Campos.
The question may be asked why the insurgents after so many victories did not invest the city of Havana, and end therewith the Spanish dominion. The answer is very clear. After the battle of Coliseo General Gomez reviewed his troops and found that each soldier had only three cartridges. The Cubans in the United States were making vain efforts to send a big expedition to the insurgents, but the policy of our government was non-interference, and they were checked in their plans. At Guira de Helena, on January 4, 1896, the Cubans had to fight with their machetes to enter the Province of Havana.
If history does not afford a parallel of the stern resolution displayed by the Cubans to die or to win in a struggle with all the odds against them, neither does it present a case of stubborn resistance to justice and human rights, and of barbarous cruelty, which equals the record of Spain in Cuba.
Jose MAETI and other Cuban heroes.
A Cuban Patriot—A Life Devoted to the Cause—First Work for Cuba—Banished From His Native Land—He Returns to Fight for Freedom—His Death—Maximo Gomez, General-in-Chief of the Cuban Forces—His Methods of Warfare—Antonio Maceo, the Colored Commander—Other Military Men of Note in the Cuban Army.
When the day comes that Cuba shall take her place among the free and independent nations of the earth, Jose Marti, who probably did more than any other one man to arouse the insurgents to make the final struggle for liberty, will not be among them to share their triumphs. Struck down, by a Spanish bullet, almost at the commencement of the last revolution, he sleeps beneath the, southern skies, and neither the clash of swords nor the thunder of the cannon over his grave can distrub his rest.
Born in Havana, the son of a Spanish army officer, he was taught from his childhood days that the friends of Cuba’s cause were rebels, deserving of death. But as he grew older he commenced to think for himself, and the more he learned of Spanish robbery, injustice and cruelty, the more determined he became to devote his life to the cause of his native land.
While yet a mere boy, he began the work. He published clandestine circulars, he wrote a play in which he depicted the wrongs inflicted upon the island people; “Free Cuba” was his thought by day, his dream at night. Through imprisonment and exile, in Spain, Mexico and the United States, every action of his life was guided by the one ambition.
On April 14th, 1895, in company with Maximo Gomez, Marti landed on the coast of Cuba, at Cobonico. His coming gave the insurgents new courage, and their numbers increased rapidly. He was made a Major General of the army, and in company with Gomez, who had seen service in the previous campaign, he led a number of successful attacks against detachments of the Spanish forces.
After organizing an expedition that was to march to Puerto Principe under Gomez’s command, Marti intended to go to the seacoast in order to return abroad and continue his work there in favor of the secessionist revolution.
About this time a man named Chacon was captured by Colonel Sandoval, of the Spanish forces, and letters from the rebels were found in his possession, and some money with which he was going to make purchases for the insurgent chiefs. This man gave information regarding the enemy’s location, and acting upon this knowledge, Colonel Sandoval, on the 19th of May, brought his army to La Brija. The Hernan Cortez squadron, under Captain Capa, was in vanguard, and attacked a band commanded by Bellito, which had come to meet the column.
When Colonel Sandoval heard of it, he advanced up to the plain of Dos Rios, and ordered his infantry to open fire. A spirited combat ensued, with fatal results to the insurgents, as the Spanish guide, Antonio Oliva, running up to help a soldier who was surrounded by a large group of the enemy, fired his rifle at a horseman, who fell to the ground, and was found to be Jose Marti. Captain Enrique Satue was the first to recognize him. A fight took place upon the spot, the rebels trying hard to carry the corpse away, but they were repulsed. Maximo Gomez was wounded in the encounter, which for some
Gentlemen:—In presence of the corpse of him who in life was Jose Marti, and in the absence of any relative or friend who might speak over his remains such words as are customary, I request you not to consider these remains to be those of an enemy any more, but simply those of a man, carried by political discords to face Spanish soldiers. From the moment the spirits have freed themselves of matter they are sheltered and magnanimously pardoned by the Almighty, and the abandoned matter is left in our care, for us to dispel all rancorous feelings, and give the corpse such Christian burial as is due to the dead.
Maximo Gomez, the general-in-chief.
The General-in-Chief of the Cuban forces is Maximo Gomez, a man of scholarly attainments, great intellect, and long experience in military affairs. Formerly an officer of Spain, he explains his present position in the following words:
“When I gave up, in 1868, my uniform and rank as a Major of the Spanish Army, it was because I knew that if I kept them. I would have some day to meet my own children in the field, and combat against their just desire for liberty. Now, with my many years, I have come to lead and counsel the new generation to ultimate victory.”
Of his methods in war, Thomas Alvord says:
“General Gomez never has more than 300 or 400 men with him. His favorite camp is near Arroyo Blanco, on a high plateau, difficult to approach, and covered with dense thicket. He posts his outer pickets at least three miles away, in directions from which the enemy may come. The Spaniards, whenever possible, march by road, and, with these highways well guarded, Gomez sleeps secure. He knows that his pickets will be informed by some Cuban long before the Spanish column leaves or passes the nearest village
“Sometimes Gomez will move only a mile or two. The Spaniards do not usually give chase. If they do, Gomez takes a keen delight in leading them in a circle. If he can throw them off by nightfall, he goes to sleep in his camp of the morning, happier than if he had won a battle. The Spaniards learn nothing through such experiences. Gomez varies the game occasionally by marching directly towards the rear of the foe, and there, reinforced by other insurgent bands of the neighborhood, falling upon the column and punishing it severely. While his immediate force is but a handful, the General can call to his aid, in a short time, nearly 6,000 men.”
A colored commander.
As soon as the rebellion had assumed such proportions as to make it possible to arrange a regular military organization among the insurgents, Antonio Maceo was made the second in command, under General Gomez, with the title of Lieutenant General. He had risen from the ranks to the position of Major General in the Ten Years’ war, where, notwithstanding his colored blood, he had shown unusual ability as a leader of men. Sons of the first families of Cuba were proud to enlist under his banner, and to recognize him as their superior officer. Space is devoted in another part of this volume to an account of the treacherous manner of his death.
The following letter, written by him to General Weyler, soon after the arrival of the latter named in Cuba, shows that he could fight with his pen as well as with his sword:
Republic of Cuba, Invading Army. Second Corps, Cayajabos, Feb. 27, 1896.
General Valeriano Weyler, Havana:
In spite of all that the press has published in regard to you, I have never been willing to give it belief and to base my judgment of your conduct on its statements; such an accumulation of atrocities, so many crimes repugnant and dishonoring to any man of honor, I thought it impossible for a soldier holding your high rank to commit.
These accusations seemed to me rather to be made in bad faith, or to be the utterances of personal enmity, and I expected that jon would take care to give the lie in due form to your detractors, rising to the height required of a gentleman, and saving yourself from any imputation of that kind, by merely adopting in the treatment of the wounded and prisoners of war, the generous course that has been pursued from the beginning by the revolutionists towards the Spanish wounded and prisoners.
But, unfortunately, Spanish dominion must always be accompanied by infamy, and although the errors and wrongful acts of the last war seemed to be corrected at the beginning of this one, to-day it has become manifest that it was only by closing our eyes to invariable personal antecedents and incorrigible traditional arbitrariness that we could have imagined Spain would forget forever her fatal characteristic of ferocity towards the defenseless. But we cannot help believing evidence. In my march during the period of this campaign I see with alarm, with horror, how the wretched reputation you enjoy is confirmed, and how the deeds that disclose your barbarous irritation are repeated. What! must even the peaceful inhabitants (I say noticing of the wounded and prisoners of war), must they be sacrificed to the rags that gave the Duke of Alva his name and fame?
Is it thus that Spain, through you, returns the clemency and kindness with which we, the redeemers of this suffering people, have acted in like circumstances? What a reproach for yourself and for Spain! The license to burn the huts, assassinations like those at Nueva Paz and the villa El Gato, committed by Spanish columns, in particular those of Colonels Molina and Vicuna, proclaim you guilty before all mankind. Your name will be forever infamous, here and far from here, remembered with disgust and horror.
Out of humanity, yielding to the honorable and generous impulses which are identified with both the spirit and the tendency of the revolution, I shall never use reprisals that would be unworthy of the reputation and the power of the liberating army of Cuba. But I nevertheless foresee that such abominable conduct on your part and on that of your men, will arouse at no distant time private vengeances to which they will fall victims, without my being able to prevent it, even though I should punish hundreds of innocent persons.
For this last reason, since war should only touch combatants, and it is inhuman to make others suffer from its consequences, I invite you to retrace your steps, if you admit your guilt, or to repress these crimes with a heavy hand, if they were committed without your consent. At all events, take care that no drop of blood be shed outside the battle field. Be merciful to the many unfortunate citizens. In so doing you will imitate in honorable emulation our conduct and our proceedings. Yours, A. Maceo.
This letter could have been written by none but a brave and honorable soldier, resolved to present the cause of the oppressed non-combatants, even when he probably knew that his appeal was powerless to lessen their sufferings in the slightest degree.
Love and war.
Among the many brave leaders of the insurgents there is perhaps none who has shown more heroism than young De Robau. After the breaking out of the revolution he was one of the first to join the standard of independence. At that time he was engaged to be married, yet with him the call of duty was paramount over every selfish consideration. After having served for some months with conspicuous credit, he was sent with his command into the neighborhood of his fiance.
The men hitherto, it may be imagined, had not paid much attention to their appearance, but now there was a regular conventional dress parade. A barber was requisitioned, accoutrements were furbished up, and weather-beaten sombreros were ornamented with brilliant ribbons. When the metamorphosis was complete, De Robau placed himself at the head of his dashing troop, and went in state to call upon the lady of his affections.
His march was a triumph, as everywhere he was attended by crowds of enthusiastic people, who had long known him, and who now hailed him as a distinguished champion. How he sped in his wooing may be gathered from the fact that an orderly was soon dispatched for the villa cura, and that there was a wedding which fairly rivaled that of Camacho, so often and so fondly recalled by the renowned Sancho. Since then the Senora de Robau has accompanied her husband throughout the campaign, sharing the hard fare and the dangers of the men, and adding another to the noble band of patriotic Cuban women, who vie with their husbands and brothers in fidelity to their native land.
Other commanders of note.
The cause has many other brave leaders, among whom may be mentioned General Calixto Garcia, General Serafin Sanchez, Francisco Corrillo, and Jose Maria Rodriguez. They are all veterans of the war of 1868-1878, and are ready to sacrifice their lives in the struggle for liberty.
Desperate battles with machete and rifle.
The Sword of Cuba—Battle Cry of the Revolutionists—Cavalry Charges—The Strategies of War—Hand-to-Hand Encounters—Maceo at the Front—Barbarities of the Spanish Soldiers—Americans in the Cuban Army—A Fight for Life—A Yankee Gunner—How a Brave Man Died.
There is a story told of a great Roman General who, after having conquered in many battles, beat his sword into a plowshare, and turned from war’s alarms to the peaceful pursuit of agriculture. The Cuban has reversed the story. When he left his labors in the forests and fields to fight his oppressors, he carried with him the implement with which he had cut the sugar cane on his plantation, and made paths through dense tropic vegetation. The machete is the sword of the Cuban soldier, and it will be famous forever. Its blade is of tempered steel, curved slightly at the end, with one edge sharp as a razor. It has a handle of horn, and is carried in a leather scabbard, attached to a narrow belt.
The weapon in the hands of one who understands its use is terribly effective. Instances have been known where rifle barrels have been cut in two by it, and heads have been severed from their bodies at a single stroke. Its name, shrieked in a wild ferocious way, is the battle cry of the insurgents, and when shouted from an hundred throats, it carries with it so awe-inspiring a sound, that it is little wonder that the enemy is stricken with fear, for it means in reality “war to the knife.”
Cavalry charges.
The Cubans are among the most skillful and daring rough riders of the world, the equals of the cowboys of our western States, and the far-famed Cossacks of Russia. The horses’ backs have been their cradles, and here they possess a decided advantage over their Spanish foes, who know as little of the equestrian art as they seem to understand of other’s rights, or the amenities of war. A mounted band of insurgents, rushing down on a detachment of the enemy, waving aloft the terrible machete, will carry with them terror and death, and conquer twice their number.
The heroic mulatto brothers, Antonio and Jose Maceo, adopted this manner of fighting on every possible occasion, and it is a coincidence worthy of note that they both met their death while leading machete charges against their hated foes.
Lack of ammunition in the Cuban ranks.
The lack of ammunition is one of the weaknesses of the insurgents. Courage, ability and men they possess in abundance, but the lack of cartridges has interfered with many of their best laid plans, and has often prevented them from availing themselves of favorable opportunities. Three or four rounds a man is nothing in action, especially when the Spaniards are always so abundantly supplied. However they are determined, and as Spanish incapacity becomes daily more apparent, they feel that it is only a question of a few months until the cause for which they have so long and bravely fought will be gloriously won.
Maceo at the front.
Within three months of the time that Gomez and Maceo landed at Baracoa they had all Santiago and Puerto Principe in a state of insurrection. They started out with comparatively a handful of men. The most reliable sources agree that there were not more than 300, but they were quickly joined by thousands of Cubans, who brought out from hiding places arms and ammunition which they had been collecting and concealing for years.
General Campos, the Spanish commander, had declared that Puerto Principe would never rise against Spain, and he proposed at once a plan to make it doubly sure. He procured special concessions from Madrid for the foreign railroads, permitting them to import iron bridges to replace their wooden structures, and pledging them $20,000 a month until they had extended their lines and made connections to complete a continuous road through the country, using the money to employ the natives. This was to insure the peace of Puerto Principe and Santa Clara, both considered conservative, and to prevent the people joining the revolutionary party.
After the plan was announced, the revolutionists burned out the wooden bridges, tore up the tracks in many places, and the roads have been, for all practical purposes, in their hands ever since. Campos, meantime, to prevent Gomez moving eastward, placed 10,000 troops on the border between the provinces of Puerto Principe and Santiago, but Gomez crossed the line on May 19th, after a battle at Boca del Dos Bios, where a loss was suffered in the death of General Marti, which was so great a blow to Cuba that Campos announced that the “death blow to the bandits had been struck.”
In Puerto Principe Gomez captured every town he attempted to take, among them Alta Gracia, San Jeronimo and Coscorro. He took Fort El Mulato, and in all the places secured large quantities of ammunition. So enthusiastic was his reception in the provinces of Puerto Principe and Santa Clara that in the latter 400 Spanish volunteers joined him with their arms.
The most important battle of the summer occurred at Bayamo in July, just as Gomez was near the Spanish line between Santa Clara and Puerto Principe, where, in an engagement between the two armies, with about 3,000 men on either side, the Spanish forces were completely routed.
From that time on through the summer and far into the autumn, every day was marked by skirmishes, the taking of important places, and the threatening of the larger towns. It kept the Spanish columns moving constantly, and the exposure in the rainy season killed thousands.
Maceo now separated his forces from Gomez’s command, and marched westward, fighting as he went, and everywhere meeting with success. He established the new government in the cities and towns of Mantua, San Cristobal, Remates, Palacios, Paso Real de San Diego, Guane, Consolacion del Sur, Pilotos, Alonso de Rojas, San Luis, San Juan y Martinez, and others of less importance.
Pinar del Rio City, the capital of the province, was the only city of importance that held out, but it was cut off with communication with its port, Colon, and was short of provisions. One supply sent by the Spanish for its relief, 100,000 rations, fell into Maceo’s hands.
In San Cristobal the Spanish flag on the government building was replaced by the emblem of the new republic, a mayor and city officials were appointed, resolutions were adopted by the new authorities, and, after all the arms in the town had been collected, Maco remained a day to rest his men and horses, and moved on the following morning at daybreak.
Generals Navarre and Luque were ordered to crush the insurgent army at all hazards. Their combined forces consisted of 5,000 infantry, 200 cavalry, and 11 pieces of artillery. After a two-days’ march they were joined by General Arizon’s command, which had encountered Maceo’s rear guard the previous day, with disastrous results.
Near Quivera Hacha, Navarre’s skirmishers encountered a small band of insurgents, and fearing that all of Maceo’s army was near, lines of battle were quickly formed. The engagement lasted for less than half an hour, when the insurgent forces withdrew, without serious losses on either side. General Navarro finally discovered that the principal part of Maceo’s forces was at the Armendores estate, and the seat of operations was changed. General Luque succeeded Navarro in command, and several days now passed without any conflict of note. Finally Luque led a charge upon Maceo’s vanguard, in the vicinity of Pinar del Rio, but the moment the attack was made he found himself under fire from the
For some reason the cavalry had not been used. The artillery was just coming up when the action had reached this point. The Spanish found that the enemy had, instead of being routed, simply fallen back and taken a position on another hill, and scattered firing went on for a considerable time, while Luque prepared to attack again. Then, against 2,000 of Maceo’s men, was directed all of Luque’s command, over 4,000 infantry, 200 cavalry, and eleven pieces of artillery.
At least half of Maceo’s army, certainly not less than 2,000 cavalry, had been moving up to Luque’s rear and came upon him, surprising him just as this second attack was being made.
For a time it was a question whether Luque’s command would not be wiped out. They were practically surrounded by Maceo’s men, and for fully an hour and a half the fighting was desperate. It is impossible to unravel the stories of both sides so as to arrive at a clear idea of the encounter.
When the cannonading ceased, four companies of infantry charged up the hill and occupied it before the insurgents, who had been driven out by the artillery, could regain it. Shortly the hill on the left of the road was taken in the same way, and Luque, although at a great loss, had repelled Maceo’s attack from the rear.
The battle had lasted for a little over two hours. Maceo had about forty of his men wounded and left four dead on the field, taking away ten others. Twenty or more of his horses were killed. The Spanish reported that he had 1,000 killed, the next day reduced the number to 300, and finally to the statement that “the enemy’s losses must have been enormous,” the usual phrase when the true number is humiliating. Luque’s losses have never been officially reported, but it is variously estimated at from seventy-five to a hundred men.
The work of fiends.
The Cubans give horrible details of a battle at Paso Heal, between General Luque’s army and a division of Maceo’s forces under Bermudez. Witnesses of the encounter claim that the Spaniards invaded the hospital and killed wounded insurgents in their beds, and that, Bermudez, in retaliation, formed a line, and shot thirty-seven Spanish prisoners.
Luque says in his report of this engagement: “The rebels made a strong defense, firing from the tops of houses and along the fences around the city. The Spanish vanguard, under Colonel Hernandez, attacked the vanguard, center and rear guard of the rebels in the central streets of the town, driving them with continuous volleys and fierce cavalry charges into the outskirts of the town. Up to this point we had killed ten insurgents.”
The people of Paso Keal say this report is true, as far as it goes, but that Luque neglects to add that he then attacked the hospital, and murdered twenty-eight wounded men, firing at them as they lay on their cots, through the windows, and finally breaking down the door, and killing the rest with the bayonet.
Under date of February 8th we have an account of the operations of the Spanish General Sabas Marin, who left Havana a short time before. His campaign in search of General Gomez was disastrous, and the official reports of Spanish victories were misleading. There were losses on both sides, but Marin accomplished absolutely nothing of what he intended to achieve.
The first misfortune which overtook the Spaniards was the rout of Carnellas, on the very day on which Marin left Havana, Gomez sent a detachment under Pedro Diaa to intercept him, and this force reached Saladrigas in the early morning. In this section the country is cut into small fields, divided by stone fences, and facing the road there is a high fence, with a ditch in front of it. Diaz placed 400 infantry behind this fence, and waited himself with 1,000 cavalry back of a hill close by. When the Spanish forces appeared, the advance guard was allowed to pass, and as soon as the main body was fairly in the trap, volleys were poured into them, literally mowing them down. At the sound of the first gun, Diaz led his thousand horsemen upon the enemy’s flank and rear. The charge was irresistible. Half of Diaz’s men did not even fire a shot, but yelling “machete,” they rode furiously upon the Spanish lines, cutting their way through, and fighting with terrible effect.
The Spanish issued no official report of this battle. So far as the records show, it never occurred. One of the Spanish officers, who fought in it, conceded a loss of 200 men, but it is probable that twice that number would be nearer the correct figure.
Americans in the Cuban army.
Colonel Frederick Funston, who returned to New York in January, 1898, told an interesting story of brave Yankee boys serving under General Gomez and General Garcia in Eastern Cuba, and also gave an account of the sad death of W. Dana Osgood, the famous football player, formerly of the University of Pennsylvania.
Colonel Funston was with Gomez’s army when they attacked Guimaro. They had with them a twelve-pound Hotchkiss rifle and four American artillerymen, Osgood of Pennsylvania, Latrobe and Janney of Baltimore, and Devine of Texas.
They attacked Guimaro in the morning, at ranges of from 400 to 600 yards, the infantry being protected by a breastwork of earth, in which openings were left for the guns.
The Spanish garrison consisted of 200 men in eleven forts, and they maintained a hot fire all day. Gradually, however, the Hotchkiss rifle, the fire of which was directed by Osgood, made the largest and nearest fort untenable, and it was abandoned by the garrison. No sooner had the Spanish forces left it than a band of the insurgents took possession, and from this point of vantage the fighting was continued with renewed vigor. As soon as darkness came on one of the Cuban guns was moved forward and stationed in this fort, and on the following day a storm of shot and shell was directed at the other forts.
Naturally the rifles of the garrison were trained most of the time upon the man sighting the Hotchkiss in the captured fort, and there, leaning over his gun in the early morning, the intrepid Osgood was shot through the head. He was carried off by his comrades under fire, and died four hours later. The death of this gallant young soldier was universally lamented, and the Cubans honor his memory as one of the first Americans to give his life while fighting for their cause.
With Gomez, with Garcia, and with Maceo, in every insurgent camp, there were brave men, American born, who fought for the flag of Free Cuba, side by side with the native soldier, and who gave their lives in the war against Spanish tyranny and misrule.
Filibusters from Florida.
First Expeditions—Expense to the United States—President Pierce’s Action—The Uprising in 1868-The Patrol of the Coasts— An Expedition on the “Three Friends”—Arms and Ammunition for the Insurgents—Desperate Chances—A Successful Landing.
The record of the last fifty years is the clearest and most convincing evidence that can be offered against the Spanish contention that the United States is not concerned with the question of government in Cuba, and has not been tremendously injured by the inability of Spanish administration to furnish the Cubans with a peaceful and satisfactory government. The first bit of evidence to be submitted comes from away back in 1848, when President Polk, on behalf of the United States, announced that while the United States was willing that Cuba should be continued under Spanish ownership and government, it would never consent to the occupation of the island by any other European nation.
It was pointed out at that time by the American government that were the United States to admit that Cuba was open to seizure by any government that was able to throw Spain out the fact that it was nearly surrounded, in Central and South America and in other West Indian islands, by territory belonging to twelve other nations would make it the ground of interminable squabbles. And these squabbles were not matters which would be without interest and damage to the commerce and peace of the United States. This was followed by an offer of $100,000,000 to Spain for the island of Cuba. The offer was promptly declined, and the United States was informed that Cuba was not on the market.
First filibustering expedition.
Nevertheless, there was formed in the United States the Lone Star Society, which had as its object “the acquisition of the island of Cuba as part of the territory of the United States.”
The “Conspiracy of Lopez,” which is fully treated of in previous pages of this work, was the first filibustering expedition that attracted particular attention from the authorities, and it was hoped that its disastrous end would deter others from like attempts. But the hope was a vain one, for within two years a similar expedition, led by General Quitman of Mississippi, was organized in the United States. Many men were enlisted and vessels chartered, but the expedition was suppressed by the government of the United States.
Expense to united states.
It will thus be seen that the fact that Spain had not been able to govern Cuba peaceably has caused the United States great expense and irritation for a much longer period than is usually taken into consideration in these days. It is not the fault of the United States that its citizens have been stirred to sympathy with the victims of the Spanish policy of government by robbery and murder. It is not the fault of the United States that this country has been the refuge of men who have been outlawed from the country of their birth because their presence there meant the irrepressible working in them of a desire for freedom, a desire intolerable to Spanish institutions.
It is not the fault of the United States that these refugees, living in the land of civil liberty, should desire to return to their native country and drive out those who made it miserable. But it would have been the fault of the United States, under international law, if these exiled Cubans were permitted to carry out their very natural and laudable desire in concert with the Americans whose sympathy had been stirred by the story of Spanish wrongs. To ferret out the plans for expeditions conceived with such determination and perseverance was not only a task requiring tremendous expenditure of money and energy, but it was a miserably disagreeable and unpopular work for the government to engage in.
On the 31st of May, 1854, President Pierce issued a proclamation instructing citizens of the United States as to their duties in refraining from encouragement, aid, or participation in connection with the Cuban insurrections.
The uprising in 1868.
In the fall of 1868, after scattering uprisings and several battles during the preceding year, plans for a concerted insurrection were arranged. The plan was discovered and the insurrection was started prematurely. There followed a campaign in which Spanish forces, amounting to 110,000 men, were unable to hold in check the Cuban force of about 26,000. In May the filibustering expeditions, that were to prove such an immense expense and annoyance to the United States, began again. The Spanish navy co-operated with the United States government in the efforts to suppress these expeditions, but many of them eluded the authorities, and aided the insurgents with arms and provisions.
This was irritating to Spain and the United States alike, because it cost just as much to keep up an unsuccessful anti-filibustering patrol as it did actually to catch filibusters, and, moreover, every successful expedition weakened the authority of the Federal government. That authority in the Southern States just after the war was none too strong, and it was not a good thing that the spectacle of defiance to the United States should be flaunted along the Southern coast.
From 1878 until 1895, when the present insurrection gained strength to become openly active, the island is supposed to have been at peace, but in the latter year the open war and filibustering expeditions began again. The name of President Cleveland was added to the list of Presidents whose duty it was to interfere with efforts to aid Cuban liberty. He issued appropriate proclamations on June 12, 1895, and July 30, 1896. Revenue cutters and warships constantly patrolled the Florida coast and, indeed, all the waters of the gulf, and sometimes New York harbor, to head off filibustering expeditions. It is said to have cost more to suppress the natural desire of citizens of the United States to relieve the political distress in Cuba than it has cost to enforce customs regulations from the same territory.
The voyage of the “Three friends.”
As evidence of the fact that Cuban sympathizers have been successful in escaping the patrol on American coasts and the enemy’s battleships in Cuban waters, we give the report of one of many expeditions that have been made during the past three years.
The steamer “Three Friends,” of Jacksonville, Florida, in command of Captain Napoleon B. Broward, returned to Jacksonville on March 18th, having succeeded in landing in Cuba, General Enrique Collazo, Major Charles Hernandez, and Duke Estrada, besides fifty-four men taken off the schooner “Ardell” from Tampa, and the entire cargo of arms and ammunition of the schooner “Mallory” from Cedar Key. It was by long odds the most important expedition that has set out from this country, and the Cubans at Jacksonville, when they learned that the “Three Friends” had safely fulfilled her mission, shouted “Viva Cuba!” until they were hoarse.
They declared that it would change the character of the whole war, as the unarmed men would now be armed, and that Maceo, who had before been wary and cautious, would be more aggressive than he had ever been before. The cargo of arms landed by the “Three Friends” and the “Mallory” was as follows: 750,000 rounds of cartridges, 1,200 rifles, 2,100 machetes, 400 revolvers, besides stores, reloading tools, etc.
The “Three Friends” met the “Mallory” at Alligator Key. The “Ardell” had just finished transferring the men to her. While they were rendezvoused there behind the pines in a deep coral-walled creek, three big Spanish men-of-war steamed slowly by, but they did not discover that there was anything suspicious looking in shore, although with a glass men could be seen in their look-outs scanning the horizon, as well as searching the shore. Sunday, about noon, no vessels being in sight, the “Three Friends” took in tow the “Mallory” and steamed southward under a good head of steam.
The “Three Friends” is a powerful tug, and by Monday night was close enough to the Cuban shore to hear the breakers. Several shiplights to the west were seen, one of which was evidently a Spanish man-of-war, for she had a search-light at her bow, and was sweeping the waves with it, but the “Three Friends” was a long way off, and had no light, and so was out of the neighborhood of the Spaniard.
A successful landing.
At ten o’clock that night, by the aid of a naphtha launch and two big surf boats, which had been taken out of Jacksonville, the “Three Friends” landed the men and ammunition from her hold, and from that of the “Mallory.” It took four and a half hours to complete the job. There were hundreds of men on shore to assist, and they did it silently, appreciating the peril of the position.
The Cubans on shore recognized General Collazo immediately, and no words can describe their joy on seeing him. He is a veteran of Cuban wars, and one whom Spain fears. In fact, it is known that during his sojourn in Florida he was shadowed by detectives, who had been instructed to spare no expense to keep Collazo from reaching Cuba. When it was whispered that Collazo was really among them, they seemed not to believe their ears, but came forward and looked, and, seeing that there was really no mistake, threw up their arms and wept for joy. Major Charles Hernandez and Duke Estrada were also enthusiastically welcomed.
It was reported that night that Maceo had received the arms of the first expedition that set forth three days before the “Three Friends” landed. They were not from the “Commodore,” for they reported that they were now on the lookout for that vessel. They said, too, that at the end of the week four expeditions were afloat. Two, including the “Three Friends,” had landed, and two more were on the way. Tuesday morning, as the “Three Friends” was returning, she sighted a steamer that answered to the description of the “Commodore.” She was headed southward, and pushing along apparently at the rate of fifteen knots an hour.
Here is the story of the capture of an expedition, by Commander Butron, of the Spanish gunboat “Mensagera”:
“The ‘Mensagera’ was directed to watch the coast between Cayo Julia and Morrillo, about one hundred miles. It was heard on the afternoon of April 25 that a suspicious schooner had been seen near Quebrados de TJvas. The gunboat followed, and found the ‘Competitor.’ The usual signals were made, but the schooner tried to get closer in shore, so as to land a rapid-fire gun.
“The ‘Mensagera’ was then moved forward and fired a shot, which struck the schooner and exploded a box of cartridges which the men were trying to take ashore. Several occupants of the schooner became alarmed, and threw themselves into the water, fearing an explosion of dynamite. The gunboat’s crew seized rifles and began shooting, killing three men. Several others reached shore.
“Three men were aboard the schooner when it was overhauled, and they surrendered without resistance. Among them was Owen Milton, editor of the Key West Mosquito. Sailors were sent ashore to capture the arms landed. In the skirmish, two men, supposed to be filibusters, and a horse were killed. They secured several abandoned cases of cartridges. A body of insurgents had come to watch the landing
An account of the trial, as sent from Havana, May 8th, reads as follows:
“The court opened at the Arsenal. The prisoners were Alfredo Liaborde, born in New Orleans; Owen Milton, of Kansas; William Kinlea, an Englishman, and Elias Vedia and Teodore Dela Maza, both Cubans. Captain Ruiz acted as president of the court, which consisted of nine other military and naval officers. The trial of the five filibusters captured aboard the ‘Competitor’ was proceeded with against the formal protest presented by Consul General Williams, who declared that the trial was illegal and in violation of the treaty between Spain and the United States.
“The prisoners were not served with a copy of the charges against them and were not allowed to select their own counsel, but were represented by a naval officer appointed by the government, They were not permitted to call witnesses for their defense, the prosecution calling all the witnesses. Owen Milton, of Kansas, testified through an interpreter that he came on the expedition only to correspond for a newspaper. William Kinlea, when called, was in his shirt sleeves. He arose and said in English, ’I do not recognize your authority, and appeal for protection to the American and English consuls.’”
Fortunately for these prisoners, the United States government interfered, and they were eventually released.
Weyler the Butcher.
His Ancestry—A Soldier From His Youth—He Succeeds General Campos—A Master of Diplomacy—A Slave of Spain—His Personal Appearance—His Interview With a Woman—His Definition of War— His Resignation.
Early in 1896, when the Spanish government began to realize that the insurrection was assuming serious proportions, arrangements were made for the recall of General Campos, then Governor-General of the island, and General Weyler was sent to assume the duties of the office. It was the opinion in Spain that Campos was too mild in his treatment of the rebels, and as Weyler was known to have no lamb-like qualities, he was regarded as the ideal man for the position. That he did not succeed in putting down the rebellion was certainly not due to any lack of extreme measures on his part. He is known as the “Butcher,” and his management of affairs in Cuba certainly gives him every right to the title.
Valeriano Weyler y Nicolau, to give him his full name, is only half a Spaniard. His father was a Prussian, though Weyler himself was born in Cadiz in 1839. His parents were in very moderate circumstances and not of noble birth. What Weyler has won he has acquired through his own efforts. He has made his way single-handed. He graduated from the infantry school at Toledo in 1857 and was at once sent to Cuba as a subaltern. He was quickly made a captain and his first work was to subdue a small revolt in San Domingo.
He rose rapidly in rank, and during the first Cuban revolt he was in command in the province of Santiago, where he earned the title that has since made him famous in the eyes of his supporters, but infamous from a civilized point of view. But he put down the revolt. He was rewarded with the appointment of captain general of the Canary islands. His administration was so successful that he was created Marquis of Teneriffe. He was then barely thirty-nine years old. He distinguished himself in the Carlist war and at its conclusion he was made captain general of the Philippines, where he quelled an insurrection and admittedly gave the islands the best administration they had ever known. He returned to Spain in 1889 and was in command at Barcelona until the present Cuban revolution began.
Here is a mental photograph of him by a newspaper correspondent:
“Most men resemble their reputations, and if a life famously spent is in the mind of one who visits a character of world-wide repute, he quite naturally discovers peculiarities, of facial expression and physique which appear to account for the individuality of the man, fighter, philosopher, criminal, reformer or whatever he may be.
“All this is true of General Weyler. He is one of those men who create a first impression, the first sight of whom can never be effaced from the mind, by whose presence the most careless observer is impressed instantly, and yet, taken, altogether, he is a man in whom the elements of greatness are concealed under a cloak of impenetrable obscurity. Inferior physically, unsoldierly in bearing, exhibiting no trace of refined sensibilities nor pleasure in the gentle associations that others live for, or at least seek as diversions, he is nevertheless the embodiment of mental acuteness, crafty, unscrupulous, fearless and of indomitable perseverance.
“I have talked with Campos, Marin and Weyler, the three Captain-Generals to whom Spain has intrusted (thus far unsuccessfully) the reconquest of Cuba. Reconquest seems an ill-chosen word, but one of General Weyler’s staff has so denominated this war, and Cuban revolutions can be settled only by conquests, Campos was an exceptional man. Marin was commonplace. Weyler is unique. Campos and Marin affected gold lace, dignity and self-consciousness. Weyler ignores them all as useless, unnecessary impediments, if anything, to the one object of his existence. Campos was fat, good natured, wise, philosophical, slow in his mental processes, clear in his judgment, emphatic in his opinions, outspoken, and, withal, lovable, humane, conservative, constructive, progressive, with but one project ever before him, the glorification of Spain as a mother-land and a figure among peaceful, enlightened nations.
“Weyler is lean, diminutive, shriveled, ambitious for immortality, irrespective of its odor, a master of diplomacy, the slave of Spain, for the glory of sitting at the right of her throne, unlovable, unloving, exalted, and doubtless justly, in self-esteem, because he is unmistaken in his estimation of his value to his Queen. His passion is success, per se, foul or fair consequences or the conventional ideas of humanity notwithstanding.
“He is a little man. An apparition of blacks—black eyes, black hair, black beard, dark, exceedingly dark, complexion, a plain black attire, black shoes, black tie, a very dirty shirt and soiled standing collar, with no jewelry and not a relief from the aspect of darkness anywhere on his person.
“It is not remarkable that I momentarily hesitated to make certain that this was actually Weyler. Doubt was dispelled with a look at his face. His eyes, far apart, bright, alert and striking, took me in at a glance. His face seemed to run to his chin, his lower jaw protruding far beyond any ordinary sign of firmness, persistence or willpower. His forehead is neither high nor receding, neither is it that of a thoughtful or philosophic man. His ears are set far back, and what is called the region of intellect, in which are those mental attributes that might be defined as powers of observation, calculation, judgment, and execution, is strongly developed. The conformation of his head, however, is not one that is generally accepted as an indication of any marked possession of philoprogenitiveness or its kindred emotions and inclinations. His nose is aquiline, bloodless and obtrusive; When he speaks it is with a high nasal enunciation that is not disagreeable, because it is not prolonged, and his sentences justify every impression that has already been formed of the man. They are short, crisp, emphatic and expressive.
“‘I have an aversion to speech,’ he said. ’I am an enemy of publications. I prefer to act, not to talk. I am here to restore peace. When peace is in the land I am going away. I am a soldier. When I am gone, politicians will reconstruct Cuba, and probably they will upset things again until they are as bad as they are now. I care not for America, England, anyone, but only for the treaties we have with them. They are the law. I observe the law, and every letter of the law. I have my ideas of Cuba’s relation to Spain. I have never expressed them. Some politicians would agree with them, others would not. No one would agree with all of them. I know I am merciless, but mercy has no place in war. I know the reputation which has been built up for me. Things that are charged to me were done by officers under me, and I was held responsible for all things in the Ten-Years’ war, including its victorious end. I do not conceal the fact that I am here solely because it is believed I can crush this insurrection. I care not what is said about me, unless it is a lie so great as to occasion alarm. I am not a politician. I am Weyler.’”
A woman’s interview with Weyler.
The following interview with the “Butcher” is by Mrs. Kate Masterson, who bearded the lion in his den for an American newspaper:
“His Excellency, Captain-General Weyler, graciously gave me an audience to-day. He received me with most charming courtesy, escorted me through his apartments and presented me with a bunch of roses from his own table. Before I left he had honored me with an invitation to dine with him at the Palace.
“‘Your Excellency,’ I said to him through my interpreter, ’the American women have a very bad opinion of you. I am very much afraid of you myself, but I have come to ask the honor of an interview with you, in order that I may write something which will reassure the women of America that you are not treating women and children unmercifully.’
“‘I do not give interviews,’ he said. ’I am willing, however, to answer any question you wish to ask.’
“‘In the United States,’ I said, ’an impression prevails that your edict shutting out newspaper correspondents from the field is only to conceal cruelties perpetrated upon the insurgent prisoners. Will your Excellency tell me the real cause?’
“‘I have,’ replied the General, ’shut out the Spanish and Cuban papers from the field, as well as the American. In the last war the correspondents created much jealousy by what they wrote. They praised one and rebuked the other. They wrote what the prisoners dictated, instead of facts. They even created ill-feeling between the Spanish officers. They are a nuisance.’
“‘Then I can deny the stories as to your being cruel?’
“The General shrugged his heavy shoulders as he said carelessly: ’I have no time to pay attention to stories. Some of them are true and some are not. If you will particularize I will give direct answers, but these things are not important.’
“’Does not your Excellency think that prisoners of war should be treated with consideration and mercy?’
“The General’s eyes glinted dangerously. ’The Spanish columns attend to their prisoners just as well as any other country in time of war,’ he replied. ’War is war. You cannot make it otherwise, try as you will.’
“’Will not your Excellency allow me to go to the scene of battle under an escort of soldiers, if necessary, that I may write of the situation as it really is, and correct the impression that prevails in America that inhuman treatment is being accorded to the insurgent prisoners?’
“‘Impossible,’ answered the General. ‘It would not be safe.’
“’I am willing to take all the danger, if your Excellency will allow me to go,’ I exclaimed.
“General Weyler laughed. ’There would be no danger from the rebels,’ he said, ’but from the Spanish soldiers. They are of a very affectionate disposition and would all fall in love with you.’
“’I will keep a great distance from the fighting, if you will allow me to go.’
“The General’s lips closed tightly, and he said: ’Impossible! Impossible!’
“‘What would happen,’ I asked, ’if I should be discovered crossing the lines without permission?’
“‘You would be treated just the same as a man.’
“‘Would I be sent to Castle Morro?’
“‘Yes,’ he replied, nodding his head vigorously. That settled it. I decided not to go.
“‘Why,’ I asked him, ’is the rule incommunicado placed upon prisoners? Is it not cruel to prevent a man from seeing his wife and children?’
“‘The rule incommunicado,’ said the General, ’is a military law. Prisoners are allowed to see their relatives as a favor, but we exercise discretion in these cases.’
“’There are stories that prisoners are shot in Castle Morro at daybreak each morning, and that the shots can be plainly heard across the bay. Is this true?’
“The General’s eyes looked unpleasant again. ‘It is false!’ he said shortly. ’The prisoners go through a regular court-martial, and no one could be shot at Morro without my orders, and I have not given orders to shoot anyone since I have been here.’
“’Do you not think it very cruel that innocent women and children should be made to suffer in time of war?’
“’No innocent women and children do suffer. It is only those who leave their homes and take part in battle who are injured. It is only the rebels who destroy peaceful homes.’
“‘It is reported,’ I said, ’that thirty women are fighting under Maceo. Is this true?’
“‘Yes,’ replied the General. ’We took one woman yesterday. She was dressed in man’s clothes and was wielding a machete. She is now in Morro Castle. These women are fiercer than men. Many of them are mulattoes. This particular woman was white.’
“‘What will be her fate?’
“‘She will go through the regular form of trial.’
“‘Will no mercy be shown her?’
“’Mercy is always shown to a woman. While the law is the same for both sexes, there is a clause which admits of mercy to a woman.’
“’There are several Cuban women insurgents in Morro and the Cabanas. Would your Excellency,’ I asked, ’allow me to visit them?’
“‘No,’ he said. ’There is a law that no foreigner shall enter our fortresses. It is a military law. We can make no exceptions. You understand that I do not wish to be discourteous, senorita.’
“‘Some of these women,’ I continued, ’are said to be imprisoned for merely having Cuban flags in their homes. Is this possible?’
“‘Treason,’ exclaimed the General, ’is always a crime, punishable by imprisonment.’
“’There is a newspaper correspondent at present in Morro. What was his crime?’
“The General shrugged his shoulders again. ’I know nothing about him,’ he said. ‘I think he has been freed.’
“’Do you not think the life of a newspaper correspondent in Havana is at present a most unhappy one?’
“’I think it must be, for they make me unhappy. If they were all like you it would be a pleasure.’
“’Is it true that thumbscrews are used to extort confessions from prisoners?’
“’Not by the Spaniards. Rebels use all these things, similar to those that were used in the Inquisition tortures.’
“’What does your Excellency think of the Cubans as a race? Do you not think them progressive and brave?’
“‘With the progress of all nations the Cubans have progressed,’ he replied. ’There are many Cubans in sympathy with Spain, but this insurrection is a blot upon the Cuban race which nothing can ever erase. It is a stain made with the blood of the slain and the tears of the women. It injures the Cubans themselves more than any other.’”
In spite of Weyler’s boasts when he assumed command of the Spanish forces in Cuba that he would quickly put down the insurrection, his failure was as complete as that of General Campos had been, and his recall was finally demanded. In his letter of protest to the home government he said:
“If the functions with which the government had entrusted me had been merely those of Governor General of Cuba, I should have hastened to resign. But the twofold character of my mission and my duty as commander-in-chief in the face of the enemy prevent my tendering a resignation.
“Nevertheless, although I can rely upon the absolute, unconditional support of the autonomist and constitutional parties, as well as upon public opinion, this would be insufficient without the confidence of the government, now more than ever necessary to me after the censure of which I have been made the object by the members and journals of the Liberal party and by public opinion in the United States, which latter is largely influenced by the former. This confidence would be necessary to enable me to put an end to the war, which has already been virtually concluded from our lines at Jucaro to Cape Antonio.”
Senor Sagasta replied: “I thank you for your explanation and value your frankness, I wish to assure you that the government recognizes your services and values them as they deserve, but it thinks a change of policy, In order to succeed, requires that the authorities should be at one with the ministry.”
Cuba under the scourge.
The Civil Guards and Their Crimes—Horrible Murder of Eight Innocent Men—A Man After Weyler’s Own Heart—How the Spanish Gain “Victories”—Life, Liberty and Property Sacrificed—The War Not a Race War—Resistance to the Bitter End.
Cuba has been under martial law for over fifty years, and its enforcement by the Civil guards (as the officers appointed by the Spanish government are called) has been responsible for innumerable outrages against the lives and property of the inhabitants. These officials have been guilty of every crime in the calendar, but protected by their positions they have escaped legal punishment, and it has only been on occasions when, driven to desperation, the people have acted as judges and executioners by taking the law into their own hands that any redress has been possible.
If for any reason these guards wish to persecute a man, the fact that he is a non-combatant is no protection to him, nor to his family. They have been the means of adding to the ranks of the insurrectionists, for frequently the man who has seen his relatives and friends shot before his eyes, to satisfy some personal spite, or in order that some officer may get credit for a battle, has left his fields and gone to strike a manly blow for his country and his home.
The story of eight peaceable white men, who were shot without trial, at Campo Florida, near Havana, will serve as an example of the work of these fiends.
These poor fellows were arrested, their arms were tied, and they were taken to the police station. One of them had just completed a coffin for a woman, and he was dragged to the station with a rope about his neck. The next day, without even the pretense of a trial, they were taken two at a time into a ravine near the fort, where a trench had been lately dug, and in spite of the most pitiful pleas for mercy, they were shot down in cold blood by the cruel guards, who seemed to take fiendish delight in their work of blood.
The following statement was seat by Cuban, patriots, with the request that it be given the widest publicity possible, among the people of the United States:
“If the government that unhappily rules the destinies of this unfortunate country should be true to the most rudimentary principles of justice and morality, Colonel Jull, who has been recently appointed Military Governor of Matanzais province, should be in the galleys among criminals. It is but a short time since he was relieved by General Martinez Campos of the military command at Cienfuegos, as he had not once engaged any of the insurgent forces, but vented all his ferocious instincts against innocent and inoffensive peasants.
“In Yaguaramas, a small town near Cienfuegos, he arrested as suspects and spies Mr. Antonio Morejon, an honest and hard-working man, and Mr. Yguacio Chapi, who is well advanced in years, and almost blind. Not being able to prove the charge against them, as they were innocent, he ordered Major Moreno, of the Barcelona battalion, doing garrison duty at Yaguaramas, to kill them with the machete and have them buried immediately. Major Moreno answered that he was a gentleman, who had come to fight for the integrity of his country, and not to commit murder. This displeased the colonel sorely, but, unfortunately, a volunteer sergeant, with six others, was willing to execute the order of the colonel, and Morejon and Chapi were murdered without pity.
“The order of Jull was executed in the most cruel manner. It horrifies to even think of it. Mr. Chapi, who knew the ways of Colonel Jull, on being awakened at three o’clock in the morning, and notified by the guard that he and Morejon had to go out, suspected what was to come, and told his companion to cry out for help as soon as they were taken out of the fort. They did so, but those who were to execute the order of Jull were neither moved nor weakened in their purpose.
A horrible sight.
“On the contrary, at the first screams of Chapi and Morejon they threw a lasso over their heads, and pulled at it by the ends. In a few moments they fell to the ground choked to death. They were dragged on the earth, without pity, to the place where they were buried. All this bloody scene was witnessed by Jull from a short distance. Providence had not willed that so much iniquity should remain hidden forever. In the hurry the grave where these two innocent men were buried was not dug deep enough, and part of the rope with which they were choked remained outside. A neighbor, looking for a lost cow, saw the rope, took hold of it, and, on pulling, disinterred the head of one of the victims. He was terror stricken, and immediately gave notice to the judge, who, on ascertaining that the men had been killed by order of Colonel Jull, suspended proceedings.
“The neighbors and all the civil and military authorities know everything that has been related here, but such is the state of affairs on the island that General Weyler has no objection to appointing this monster, Colonel Jull, Military Governor of Matanzas. Such deeds as those enumerated are common. The people of the town of Matanzas, with Jull as Governor, and Arolas at the head of a column, will suffer in consequence of their pernicious and bloody instincts.
“That the readers may know in part who General Arolas is, it may be well to relate what has happened in the Mercedes estate, near Colon. It having come to his knowledge that a small body of rebels was encamped on the sugar estate Mercedes, of Mr. Oarrillo, General Arolas went to engage them, but the rebels, who were few in numbers, retreated. Much vexed at not being able to discharge one shot at them, he made prisoners of three workmen who were out in the field herding the animals of the estate and without any formality of trial shot them. When the bodies were taken to the Central they were recognized, and to cover his responsibility somewhat, General Arolas said that when he challenged them they ran off, and at the first discharge of musketry they fell dead.”
Life, liberty and property sacrificed.
Life, liberty and property have all been sacrificed by these determined patriots for the sake of the cause they love. Their towns have been burned, their homes pillaged, their wives and children starved, and in many sections of the island nothing but ruin and waste meets the eye. Even their sick and wounded are not safe from the oppressor’s sword, and wherever the insurgents have a hospital, they have a garrison to protect it. Each of the six provinces has an insurgent hospital, with a staff of physicans and nurses, and a detachment of the army.
The largest of these lies in that part of Santa Clara called the Isthmus of Zapata. It is a wild, swampy region, through which the natives alone can distinguish those precarious tracks, where the slightest deviation means being engulfed in the treacherous morass.
A determined resistance.
A prominent Cuban, who may be said to speak for his entire race, makes this declaration:
“The population of the island is, in round numbers, 1,600,000, of which less than 200,000 are Spaniards, some 500,000 are colored Cubans, and over 800,000 white Cubans. Of the Spaniards, a small but not inconsiderable fraction, although not taking an active part in the defense of our cause, sympathize with, and are supporting it in various ways. Of the Cubans, whether colored or white, all are in sympathy with the revolution, with the exception of a few scattered individuals who hold positions under the Spanish government or are engaged in enterprises which cannot thrive without it. All of the Cubans who have had the means and the opportunity to join the revolutionary army have done so, while those who have been compelled for one reason or another to remain in the cities are co-operating to the best of their abilities. If the people of the small section of the western part of the island, which yet remains quiet, were supplied with arms and ammunition they would rise, to a man, within twenty-four hours.
“This revolution of the whole Cuban people against the government of Spain is what the Spanish officials are pleased to describe as a disturbance caused by a few adventurers, robbers, bandits, and assassins! But they have a purpose in so characterizing it, and it is no other than to justify, in some way, the war of extermination which the Prime Minister of Spain himself has declared will be waged by his government against the Cuban people. They are not yet satisfied with the rivers of human blood with which in times past they inundated the fields of Italy, of the Low Countries, of our continent of America, and only a few years ago, of Cuba itself. The Spanish newspaper of Havana, ‘El Pueblo,’ urges the Spanish soldiers to give no quarter, to spare no one, to kill all, all without exception, until they shall have torrents of Cuban blood in which to bathe themselves. It is well. The Cubans accept the challenge, but they will not imitate their tyrants and cover themselves with infamy by waging a savage war. The Cubans respect the lives of their Spanish prisoners, they do not attack hospitals, and they cure and assist with the same care and solicitude with which they cure and assist their own, the wounded Spaniards who may fall into their hands. They have done so from the beginning of the war, and they will not change their humane policy.
“The Spanish officials have also attempted to convince you that the Cuban war is a war of races. Of what races? Of the black against the white? It is not true, and the facts plainly show that there is nothing of the kind. Nor is the war waged by Cubans against the Spaniards as such. No. The war is waged against the government of Spain, and only against the government of Spain and the officials and a few monopolists, who, under it, live and thrive upon the substance of the Cubans. We have no ill feeling against the thousands of Spaniards who industriously and honestly make their living in Cuba.
“But with the Spanish government we will make no peace, and we will make no compromise. Under its rule there will be nothing for our people but oppression and misery. For years and years the Cuban people have patiently suffered, and in the interests of the colony, as well as in the interests of the metropolis, have earnestly prayed for reforms. Spain has not only turned a deaf ear to the prayers, but instead of reforming the most glaring abuses, has allowed them to increase and flourish, until such a point has been reached that the continuation of Spanish rule means for the Cuban people utter destruction.”
Fitzhugh lee to the front.
Importance of the American Consulate at Havana in a Critical Time—General Fitzhugh Lee the Man for the Place—Sketch of the Life of Lee—A Nation’s Confidence in Its Popular Hero—How He Left Havana and How He Promised to Return Wife and Family of General Lee—His Place During the Early Period of the War.
Never was there a more genuine and typical American gentleman in a difficult position where a genuine and typical American gentleman was needed, than Fitzhugh Lee, the American consul-general at Havana during the most critical time prior to the outbreak of our war with Spain. The Cuban consul generalship is an office of much greater importance than others of the same name in other countries where diplomatic representatives are maintained. It includes the obligations of diplomacy as well as those of commerce, and Lee was the man for both.
His predecessor in the office, Ramon Williams, had held the position for many years and it was recognized by him as well as by the authorities at Washington that a change should be made because of the unusual demands upon the office. His long and faithful service in the tropical country had undermined his health so that his energies were lessened thereby, at a time when they were most needed for the safety of American interests.
It was in the spring of 1896 that President Cleveland, believing that a man of unusual ability should represent the United States at Havana, chose Fitzhugh Lee for the post. The selection was approved from the first by everyone who knew him, and not many months had passed until General Lee became an idol and a hero of the whole American people.
His Havana record has been no surprise to those who knew of his exploits during the war, or of his family. Blood will tell, and it has told in the case of General Lee. His family has always been famous in American history. How could the grandson of “Lighthorse Harry, the Revolutionary hero,” or the nephew of Robert E. Lee, be anything else but courageous and possessed of tact and common sense?
The son of a naval officer, he preferred the army as a career. Graduating from West Point, he fought on the frontier for six years before the opening of the Rebellion, and was engaged in several desperate encounters with the Comanche Indians in Texas. On one of these occasions he was pierced through the lungs by an arrow, but he lived to tell the story. On another occasion he grappled with a big Indian in a hand-to-hand encounter, threw his antagonist on the ground and killed him.
Though only twenty-seven years of age, Lee was an instructor in cavalry tactics at West Point when the war broke out. He “followed his State” into the secession movement. His war record is a matter of pride to every Virginian. The dashing young officer was an ideal trooper, fearing nothing and loved by his men. He was modest, too. After some brilliant movement of personal valor his brigade formed in a body and determined to serenade him at his headquarters, expecting, of course, a speech. But Lee got an inkling of the matter, and when he saw them coming he slipped out of his tent and hid in the bushes. After the disappointed troopers had called for him in vain and dispersed he peeped furtively from his hiding place, and in a subdued tone asked, “Have they gone?”
Composure in battle.
General Lee possessed remarkable composure in battle. He never got the least rattled under the most trying conditions, except at Saylor’s Creek, on the retreat from Petersburg; he never betrayed anxiety, and, though often under a rattling fire, no one ever saw him dodge. This cannot be said of many of the bravest men. Sometimes a bullet will unexpectedly whizz close to one’s head, and the impulse to dodge is almost irresistible, though it never did anybody any good.
One of the officers with him said once that the only time he had been moved by the enemy’s fire was at the battle of Winchester. He and General Early met under an apple tree near the summit of a hill and in a very exposed place. There was no firing at the time, but while the two generals, still on their horses, were intently examining a map, one shot was fired. It fell short and they paid no attention to it. But lo! another came, struck the apple tree just above their heads, and as the apples rained down on them they concluded the map could be better examined in a less exposed position—a conclusion in which all others agreed with remarkable unanimity. And nobody stopped to get any apples.
General Lee is a superb horseman. He rode a splendid mare named Nellie. She had the form, the strength, the nimbleness of limb, the tapering neck, the alert poise of the head, the bright and intelligent eyes that made her a model worthy to bear any master. She was all grace and beauty. When the confederate columns were broken in the same battle and the rout began, for it was little less, General Lee was at a very exposed point. The fire of thirty pieces of artillery was directed against it. The air was full of exploding shells; horses were plunging about on three legs, neighing piteously for a place of refuge; others were disemboweled by the furious shot; others were loose, running to and fro, bewildered by the terrible havoc, while the mutilated bodies of men could be seen on every hand; numbers who were crippled were hobbling away, and all seemed doomed to death. It was here that the beautiful Nellie was gored by one fragment of shell and her master’s leg torn by another.
He was noted for his geniality and jollity. He loved humor and fun, and got all there was to be had in those trying times. But his cheerfulness failed at Appomattox. There he cried.
After the war had ended, General Lee settled in Stafford County as a farmer and miller. His life was the quiet and uneventful one of a country gentleman, caring for nothing but his wife, whom he married in 1871, and his children. About 1875 he began to take an active part in politics, and he attended the national convention of 1876 as a delegate. In 1885 he was elected governor of Virginia. It was then that he again became conspicuous. General Lee headed the southern division of the inauguration parade, and his handsome presence and splendid horsemanship
During Mr. Cleveland’s second term he was made collector of internal revenue at Lynchburg, Va.
The man for the place at Havana.
Once settled in his position in Havana, General Lee’s fame began to multiply. The American opinion of him was voiced immediately after the destruction of the Maine, by L. P. Sigsbee, the brother of the commander of that ill-fated ship, when he said: “There’s a man down there looking after the interests of this country who cannot be blinded. He has more sand than anybody I know of, and if there’s anything treacherous in this explosion we’ll know of it without delay. The man I mean is General Fitzhugh Lee.”
The same thought occurred to every American who had watched his career. From first to last everybody had confidence in his Americanism, his bravery and his cool-headedness. He held his office through merit alone, no politician gaining any success in the effort to win from him that position of distinction and profit, after the change of administration when President McKinley assumed the executive chair. The nation recognized that he was first an American and an interference with him on partisan grounds would not have been tolerated.
Jealous of American honor, and firm in insisting upon the rights of his countrymen, he has always kept cool. Courteous and polite as well as courageous, he has never blustered and he has won the respect and admiration of the Spaniards as well as their fear.
Throughout his service in Cuba, General Lee’s figure was a familiar one in Havana, and even by those most antagonistic to him because of their official position, he was heartily admired. No matter what the threat of violence from hot-headed Spaniards, when the relations were most strained between the two countries, General Lee never admitted the slightest danger to himself and refused to accept any guard except that which he himself was able to maintain for himself. Upon the streets and in the hotels and cafes he was exempt from disrespect by the sheer force of his splendid personality. And never until the last day of his stay in Havana when all diplomatic relations were severed, did the Spanish authorities in that city omit any of the forms of courtesy.
General lee promises to return.
On that day, when in company with the British Consul General he went to bid farewell to Captain General Blanco, the latter refused to see him upon the excuse that he was too busy. When the homeward voyage was actually begun, in the little boat that carried to the steamer the Consul General and the last newspaper correspondents who remained in Havana till the end, the malice of the Spanish onlookers at the docks could restrain itself no longer. With imprecations and scornful and insulting epithets they raised their voices against him. With proper dignity General Lee ignored it all, except to say in one definite last message, that he would be back again before long with troops to stand by him.
In his office in the consulate at Havana, General Lee gained the admiration and the confidence of every American who had occasion to meet him. Brave as an American should be, and equally gentle and tender-hearted, he was the man for the place. The Spanish outrages upon American citizens roused in him but two sentiments. One was sympathy and grief for those who suffered. The other was indignation and enmity against those who were guilty. To the extent of all his power he guarded and aided those for whom that first sentiment was roused. He left Cuba with an accumulation of detestation for Spanish outrages in that unhappy island against Americans and Cubans, that would stimulate to deeds of valor through whatever warfare might follow in which he should be a leader. With a great heart, a brilliant mind and a magnificent physique, General Lee combined all the qualities which made him worthy of the American pride which was centered upon him.
Americans in Spanish dungeons.
Spanish Hatred of the American Nation—Instances of Injustice— The Case of Dr. Ruiz—His Death in a Dungeon—Julio Sanguilly— Action of the United States Senate in His Behalf—A Correspondent in Morro Castle—Walter Dygert’s Experiences—General Lee Shows His Mettle in the Case of Charles Scott.
Not content with their cruel and inhuman treatment of Cuban patriots, the Spanish officials have seemed to take special satisfaction in imprisoning and even murdering American citizens on the slightest pretext. The object of their most bitter hatred is the insurgent, but if they are to be judged by their deeds, it would appear that the American occupies a close second place in their black-list.
Time and again our government has been compelled to interfere to save the lives of its citizens, and unfortunately this interference has on several occasions been too late. It is not possible to present a list of all the men and women of American birth who have lost life, liberty and property by Spanish authority, from the massacre of the crew of the Virginius to the wrecking of the Maine, but a few instances may be mentioned, which will prove conclusively that the retribution, of which the glorious victory in Manila bay was but the commencement, came none too soon.
The case of Dr. Ruiz.
One of the most flagrant of these outrages was the imprisonment of Dr. Ricardo Ruiz, a Cuban by birth, but a naturalized citizen of the United States. He was a dentist by profession, having studied in a Pennsylvania dental college, and after receiving his diploma, he returned to his native country to practice his profession.
He was accused of being in sympathy with the revolutionists, arrested and kept in prison for two years, when he died, probably from violence. In the following letter, written from Havana, regarding the case, will be seen the reasons for this supposition:
“Ruiz died, according to the surgeons, from congestion of the brain, caused by a blow or blows. When General Lee and Mr. Calhoun visited the jail in Guanabacoa, they were shown the cell in which the Spanish say that Ruiz died. The guard explained to General Lee and Mr. Calhoun that he heard thumping on the inside of the door, and when he opened it and went in, Ruiz was running at the heavy door and butting it with his head. Ruiz had only one wound on the top of his head. Had he butted this door, as the jailer says, his scalp must necessarily have been lacerated in several places.”
Julio Sanguilly is another American citizen who was tried for treason, and sentenced to life imprisonment. This case attracted a great deal of attention in the United States, and a resolution was passed by the Committee on Foreign Relations of the Senate, making a demand on the Spanish government for his release. During the debate on this resolution, Senator Daniel, of Virginia, said:
“Two years ago yesterday, Julio Sanguilly, an American citizen, was thrown into prison. Two years have gone by and this government has done practically nothing for this citizen. Great Britain would have released him as soon as one of her battleships could reach Havana. He has been brutally treated and condemned on unsworn testimony before military tribunals. This country and all civilization have been disgraced by the treatment meted out to this unfortunate man. Every citizen of this country would have patriotically applauded the President if he had sent a fleet of American battleships and compelled the release, of this American citizen, whose country has been insulted by the treatment accorded to him and to our representative in Cuba.”
The Prime Minister at Madrid, realizing that trouble of a serious nature was likely to come from this affair, cabled Weyler to discharge the prisoner from custody, and banish him from the island.
Sanguilly immediately came to the United States, where he was warmly received by his friends, and he has since been actively engaged in work for Cuba’s freedom.
Charles Scott, an employe of the American Gas Company, was arrested at Regla, charged with having Cuban postage stamps in his possession. He was in solitary confinement, in a damp, empty cell, five feet by eleven, for fourteen days. Once during his imprisonment he was left for two days without even a drop of water. General Lee, then United States Consul at Havana, cabled to Washington, asking that arrangements be made to send war vessels to Havana, in case of necessity, and declaring that unless his requests were complied with, he would leave the island. In this affair, as in many others, General Lee proved that he was the right man in the right place, for it was due to his efforts in Scott’s behalf that he was finally given his liberty.
Mr. Charles Michaelson, a newspaper correspondent, and his interpreter, were imprisoned, in Morro Castle as suspects. It required fine detective work to discover this fact, for they were missing for some time before it was definitely known that they were in the clutches of Weyler, but the “Butcher” finally admitted it, and after a short delay was persuaded by the United States Consul to release them. Mr. Michaelson’s treatment was almost brutal in its nature.
The interior of the castle is like a dungeon, and he was compelled to sleep on the floor, as a hammock sent to him by friends outside was not given to him till the day of his release. His food was thrown to him through the bars of the door, and meals sent in to him were eaten by the guards. Rats were his constant companions, and when, occasionally, he would sink into a light slumber, he would be suddenly awakened to find one of the animals in his hair, another burrowing under his coat, and still another making a meal on his shoes. On one occasion he threw a shoe at a rat, which struck the door of his cell, whereupon the guard threatened to punish him for a breach of prison discipline, the noise being against the rules.
Walter Dygart relates his experience while the enforced guest of the Spanish government. It is evident that the keeper of a prison in Cuba has a profitable occupation.
“A child may weep at
brambles’ smart,
And maidens when their
lovers part;
But woe worth a country
when
She sees the tears of
bearded men.”
“These lines by the poet, Scott, recurred to me when I saw aged men weeping and heart-broken at being separated from their families and shut up in this hell. But why does the Spanish government shut up helpless cripples and non-combatants? This is a question that puzzled me for some time, but I finally solved it, and will answer it after I have described the food and water.
“A little after six in the morning we were, each of us, given a very small cup of coffee. The first meal of the day, if it could be called a meal, came after nine o’clock. It consisted of a little rice, which was generally dirty, a few small potatoes, boiled with their skins on, and often partly rotten, a little piece of boiled salt beef, or beef cut up in small bits, with soup, just about half enough, and of the poorest quality. The meat was often spoiled and unfit for anything but a vulture to eat. The second and last meal of the day came about four in the afternoon, and was the same as the first.
“I had no opportunity to count the prisoners, but I learned that there were about 180 on the average confined there. I learned as definitely as I could, without seeing the contract, that a certain party had the contract to feed these prisoners at twenty-five cents each per day. Thus he gets $45 a day, and I learned that the food costs him only $7 to $8 a day, and, as some of the prisoners did the cooking, his profit can be readily seen. On such a contract he could afford to divide with the judge and army officers to keep the prison full.”
A minister of the gospel in morro castle.
The Southern Baptist Missionary Society has a mission in the city of Havana, and it was formerly in charge of Rev. Alberto J. Diaz, whose home is in the United States. Ever loyal to his flag, and believing in the institutions of his country, he lost no opportunity to preach civil as well as religious liberty, and though often warned to desist, by the Spanish authorities, he continued the course which he regarded as his solemn duty. He gives particulars of his arrest as follows:
“About three o’clock one morning I was aroused by a knock at the door of my house, and when I opened it I saw some fifty or sixty Spanish soldiers, with their guns leveled at me. I quickly shut the door and talked through it. The captain said he must search the house, and I consented to let three men come in. They spent seven hours looking through two trunks full of sermons, and other papers, and when the search was completed they had found no incriminating documents.”
Nevertheless, both Dr. Diaz and his brother were imprisoned in Morro Castle. They were tried for treasonable utterances and sentenced to death. Fortunately one of the sentries of the prison was a member of Dr. Diaz’s church, and through his kind offices, a message was sent to the president of the Southern Baptist Missionary Society in Atlanta. He communicated with the authorities at Washington. This resulted in the execution being postponed, and the brothers were accorded more humane treatment than they had received heretofore.
Dr. Diaz now addressed a telegram to our Secretary of State, giving the particulars of the arrest, trial and conviction, and appealing to him to demand their immediate release. The message was smuggled on board a boat bound for Key West, and Weyler, hearing of it, at once cabled to Washington that Diaz had been released. He, with his brother and his family, was compelled to leave the island by the first steamer, and they returned to the United States.
In our treaty with Spain, which was in force up to the time of the declaration of war, was the following clause:
“No citizen of the United States, residing in Spain, her adjacent islands, or her ultramarine possessions, charged with acts of sedition, treason, or conspiracy against the institutions, the public security, the integrity of the territory, or against the supreme government, or any other crime whatsoever, shall be subject to trial by any exceptionable tribunal, but exclusively by the ordinary jurisdiction, except in the case of being captured with arms in hand.”
This treaty was supposed to protect American citizens from trial by martial law, but it was disregarded by Spanish officials in Cuba time and again, and, in fact, up to the time of General Lee’s arrival in Havana, an American citizen had very little advantage over a Cuban insurgent, when the safety of his property or his person was concerned.
Maceo dead by treachery.
A Great Leader in a Great Cause—A Modern Judas—The Worthy Son of a Noble Sire—The Farewell Letter—An Estimate of Maceo’s Character—Rejoicing Among Spanish Supporters—Their Mistaken Belief—Patriotic Ardor of the Insurgents.
In the death of Antonio Maceo the Cuban cause lost one of its strongest defenders. Besides being a man of acute intellect, and a general of great military skill, he had the rare gift of personal magnetism, and no one ever followed his leadership who did not feel for him the devotion which often gives courage to cowards and makes heroes in the time of need.
That his death was due to treachery there is little doubt. Doctor Zertucha, his physician and trusted friend, is accused of having betrayed him to the Spaniards. An Insurgent officer, who was with the general when he received his death wound, says that they heard gun shots in the vicinity of Punta Brava. Zertucha galloped into the brush a short distance and returned, calling to them to follow him. Maceo at once put spurs to his horse, and, followed by his aides, rode swiftly after the physician, who plunged into the thick growth on the side of the road. They had ridden only a short distance, when Zertucha suddenly bent low in his saddle and swerved sharply to one side, galloping away like mad. Almost at the same moment a volley was fired by a party of Spanish soldiers hidden in the dense underbrush, and Maceo and four of his aides dropped out of their saddles mortally wounded.
The single survivor, the one who tells this story, managed to make his way back to his own men, and brought them up to the scene of the tragedy, but the bodies had been removed, and when they were finally discovered, they had been mutilated in a most shocking manner. It was then learned that one of the victims was Francisco Gomez, a son of the Commander-in-Chief of the Cuban army, who was one of Maceo’s aides. It seems that his wound was not necessarily a fatal one, but he refused to leave his dying commander, and rather than to fall alive in the hands of his foes, he committed suicide. This letter was found in his hand:
Dear Mamma, Papa, Dear Brothers: I die at my post. I did not want to abandon the body of General Maceo, and I stayed with him. I was wounded in two places, and as I did not fall into the hands of the enemy I have killed myself. I am dying. I die pleased at being in the defense of the Cuban cause. I wait for you in the other world. Your son,
Francisco Gomez.
Torro in San Domingo.
(Friends or foes, please transmit to its destination, as requested by one dead.)
Dr. Zertucha surrendered to a Spanish officer shortly after Maceo was killed. He said that the dead leader was discouraged by the continual failures of the insurgents to make any headway against their foes; that, on account of his color, the subordinate officers in the Cuban ranks did not show proper respect for him, or obedience to his commands, and that he had purposely placed himself in range of the enemy’s rifles, deliberately seeking death.
These statements are manifestly false, and go far to confirm the belief that the coward who made them had a guilty knowledge concerning the manner of the death of the brave soldier he maligned.
An estimate of Maceo’s character.
A gentleman who made Maceo’s acquaintance in Havana, prior to the present insurrection, gives this estimate of his character:
“Maceo was a natural politician in that he had the genius of divining popular opinion, and taking the leadership of popular movements. He was in Havana at that time sounding men and scheming for the present revolution. He was always of the sunniest disposition, closely attaching all people to him, and a man of the strictest moral integrity. He never drank wine, he never smoked, and that in a land where tobacco is as common as potatoes in Ireland, and he never played cards. He had a great abhorrence of men who drank to excess, and would not tolerate them about him.
“He always dressed, when in Havana, in the most finished style. His massive frame—he was about five feet ten inches in height and unusually broad shouldered—was displayed to advantage always in frock coat, closely buttoned, and he usually wore a silk hat. He was neat, even to fastidiousness, in his dress. He usually carried a cane.
“When Maceo took the field, however, he roughed it with his men, and dressed accordingly. When in battle he carried a long-barreled 38-caliber revolver with a mother-of-pearl handle, and a Toledo blade made in the form of a machete. The handle of this machete was finely wrought silver and turquoise shell, and had four notches in it, into which the fingers could easily fit. Maceo always had three horses with him on his marches, the favorite being a big white one.”
Probably no event in the war up to that time caused such general satisfaction among the supporters of the existing government, both in Cuba and in Spain, as the death of Maceo. When Jose Marti was killed, they were certain that the loss of that leader would compel the insurrectionists to abandon hopes of success. On the contrary, it inspired them with greater determination than before. But the Spanish sympathizers learned nothing from that experience, and when it was definitely known that Maceo was no longer to be feared, they were unanimous in the belief that the end of the struggle was at hand. Subsequent events have shown how little they knew of the kind of men with whom they were at war.
“The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church,” and every Cuban patriot who has fallen in this conquest of extermination has but added fuel to the fires of liberty, which are sweeping Spanish rule from the island, leaving the tyrants nothing but the ashes of their hopes.
Weyler’s reconcentration policy and its horrors.
The Object of the Plan—Slaves of Spain—The Massacre of the Innocents—Deserted Fields and Farms—A Fearful Mortality—The Cubans the Oldest Americans of Caucasian Blood—Women and Children Doomed to Die—An Appeal for Help—Our Manifest Duty.
When General Weyler promulgated his policy of reconcentration he hypocritically claimed that it was intended to protect the noncombatant peasantry of the island, but his sole object was to compel them to put themselves wholly in the power of the Spanish officials. No one knew better than the “Butcher” that the Cuban peasant, no matter what he might publicly profess, was bound with all his heart to the cause of free Cuba, and that he never lost an opportunity to aid the insurgents by every means in his power. And when he formulated the plan compelling them to abandon their homes in the rural districts, and to herd like sheep in the cities and towns which were still under his rule, it was to prevent them from giving aid and information to the rebels. He must have known that the enforcement of this edict meant certain starvation to thousands of the inoffensive inhabitants, but no thought of the misery and injustice which he thus wrought upon them deterred him in his determination to crush the unhappy people, and keep them still the slaves of Spain.
The order found a very large proportion of the working classes absolutely destitute of money, and the men, knowing there was no work for them in the towns, hesitated about going with their families, while they did not dare to remain in their poor homes, where, at least, they could be sure of food. The consequence was that thousands of homes were deserted. The women and children were sent to the towns to look out for themselves as best they could, while the men joined the insurgent army. In a number of cases wives refused to be separated from their husbands, and followed them into the ranks of the revolutionists, where they fought like the Amazons of old. Some of them found a melancholy pleasure in nursing the sick and wounded, others fought side by side with the men, and the fear of death was not half as strong as the thoughts of the horrors which awaited them at their homes, or among the reconcentrados in the towns. Marriages have been solemnized, and children have been born upon the fields of battle. Spain is nursing a forlorn hope when she counts on subduing patriots like these.
Women and children doomed to die.
Hon. C. W. Russell, an attache of the Department of Justice of the United States, went to Cuba shortly after the order for reconcentration went into effect. It was his purpose to learn by personal observation how much or how little truth there was in the reports that had come to this country regarding the terrible suffering among the reconcentrados. He states the result of his investigations as follows:
“I spent just two weeks in Cuba, visited Havana, went south to Jaruco, southwest to Guines, northeast to Matanzas, eastwardly about two hundred miles through the middle of the country to San Domingo, Santa Clara and Sagua la Grande. I visited Marianao, a short distance west of Havana, and saw along the railroad thirty or forty towns or stations. In Havana I visited the Fossos, the hospital prison at Aldecoa, where I talked with the father of Evangelina Cisneros, and a place called the Jacoba. I found reconcentrados at all three places, and begging everywhere about the streets of Havana.
“The spectacle at the Fossos and Jacoba houses, of women and children emaciated to skeletons and suffering from diseases produced by starvation, was sickening. In Sagua I saw some sick and emaciated little girls in a children’s hospital, started three days before by charitable Cubans, and saw a crowd of miserable looking reconcentrados with tin buckets and other receptacles getting small allowances of food doled out to them in a yard. In the same city, in an old sugar warehouse, I saw stationed around the inside walls the remnants of twenty or thirty Cuban families.
“In one case the remnant consisted of two children, seven or eight years old. In another case, where I talked to the people in broken Spanish, there were four individuals, a mother, a girl of fourteen, and two quite small girls. The smallest was then suffering from malarial fever. The next had the signs on her hands, with which I had become familiar, of having had that dreadful disease, the beri-beri. These four were all that order of concentration had left alive of eleven. At San Domingo, where two railroads join, the depot was crowded with women and children, one of the latter, as I remember, being swollen up with the beri-beri, begging in the most earnest way of the few passengers.
“San Domingo is little more than a railroad station in times of peace, but at present it has a considerable population, living in cabins thatched with the tops of royal palm trees, composed of the survivors of the reconcentrados. The huts are arranged close together in a little clump, and the concentration order required and apparently still requires these people to live within a circle of small block houses, commonly dignified in the dispatches by the name of forts. They had no work to do, no soil to till, no seed to plant, and only begging to live on. I do not know the exact measure of the dead-line circle drawn around them, but there was certainly nothing within it upon which a human being
Deserted fields and farms.
“All along the railroad, as far as could be seen, were stretches of the most fertile and beautiful country, with very few trees, even on the low mountains, and most of these royal palms. I saw many dozens of burned canefields, and one evening, going from Guines to Havana, saw the sky all lighted up along the road with fires, principally of the tall grass of the country, but partly of cane. The whole land was lying perfectly idle, except that I saw two or three or four sugar mills where cane was growing, but in all such instances the mill and cane were surrounded by forts, manned by soldiers, who are paid, I was told, by the owners. Except in the cities, I saw no indication that any relief whatever was being afforded to the starving people. Neither in Havana nor elsewhere did any priest, religious woman or other person seem to be paying any attention to the wants of the starving, except that at the Fossos, and some other places, charitable Cubans were nursing the sick. The Church, being a state institution, was, so far as I could see, leaving the victims without either bodily or spiritual relief. In fact, the general air of indifference to suffering which seemed to prevail everywhere was astonishing.
A fearful mortality.
“As the country was stripped of its population by the order of concentration, it is easy to believe that 400,000 persons were gathered behind the forts without being given food, medicine, or means of any kind to earn a living, except where in the larger cities some few could find employment in menial offices. Judging by the orphans I was shown at Jacoba, Aidecoa and elsewhere, and from all I saw and heard, I believe that half of the 400,000 have died as the result of starvation. I know from the official register of the city of Santa Clara, which ordinarily has a population of about 14,000, that the deaths for November were over 1,000, and the number of deaths for December was over 900, and showed an increase, considering the loss of the former 1,000, from its total population. The exact figures for December are 971. At that city the government was distributing 500 single rations per day out of a total appropriation for the purpose of $15,000. This was not relief, but a mere prolongation of the sufferings of a small part of the reconcentrados of the city.
“So far as any evidence of relief was visible to my eyes or was even heard of by me in all my talks on the island, the surviving 200,000 people are in the same condition and have the same prospect of starvation before them as had their kindred who have died. There is as much need of medicine now as food, and they are getting neither. The reason given by the Spanish sympathizers in Cuba is that the troops must be first fed, and it is certain that many of the soldiers are sick and suffering for want of proper food. I saw many myself that looked so. I was informed on all sides that they had not been paid for eight months, and that most of the civil officials had not been paid for a similar period. It is, therefore, most probable that Spain is practically unable to supply the millions which are immediately necessary to prevent the death of most of the surviving reconcentrados, but this leads to political questions, which I desire to avoid.
Our manifest duty.
“I wish merely to state in such a way as to be convincing that in consequence of the concentration of the people, some 200,000 Cubans are daily suffering and dying from diseases produced by a lack of nourishment, in the midst of what I think must be the most fertile country in the world, and that something must be done for them on a large scale, and at once, or a few months will see their extermination. So far as I could see, they are a patient, amiable, intelligent set of people, some of them whom I saw begging having faces like Madonnas. They are Americans, probably the oldest Americans of European descent. Constant intercourse with the United States has made them sympathize with and appreciate us, who are but six hours by boat from them, if we do not sympathize with or care for them. No order or permission from General Blanco can save the lives of many of them. Indeed, many are too far gone to be saved by the best care and treatment.
“There was no indication of a cessation of hostilities by the insurgents. If they do not voluntarily cease, their tactics are such that Spain cannot conquer them, if at all, before the reconcentrados will have had the finishing stroke. But even the speedy termination of the war would not save many of them. What they need is instant pecuniary assistance to the extent of $20,000 a day, distributed by our consuls. Private charity, it seems, will hardly produce the amount. Twenty thousand dollars would be but ten cents apiece for medicine, clothes and food. When I left Havana I was informed that Consul General Lee had received $5,000 and some hundreds of cans of condensed milk. As there are about 30,000 sufferers in Havana alone, the inadequacy of such contributions is manifest. Whether Congress should make an appropriation, as in the case of the San Domingo refugees and other cases, it is not for me to say, but I beg the charitable to believe the statement of facts which I have made, and try to realize what they mean.”
A correspondent in Cuba gives an interesting account of a case that came under his notice among the reconcentrados in the town of Guadaloupe. It is substantially as follows:
In all misery-ridden Cuba there is no town in which the reign of misery is so absolute as in Guadaloupe. Even the situation of this place might be said to be in “the valley of the shadow of death.” It is not upon the earth’s surface, but far below, in a broad, deep hole. The all-surrounding hills are not green, but black. For these up-sloping fields, upon which many a rich tobacco crop has been raised, lie now under blackening ashes—the work of insurgent torches. In this low-lying town 3,000 reconcentrados are naked, shelterless and starving. That aid has not come to them till now is because of the ingratitude and treachery of two of their own number.
As the two guilty ones have just paid the penalty of their crime, the Red Cross Society will probably have a relief corps in Guadaloupe by the time this letter is printed.
The tragedy of Guadaloupe, to the denouement of which I was an eyewitness, shows that the insurgents have learned the art of butchery as taught by the Spanish, and that a reconcentrado will sometimes betray the Samaritan who helps him. A faithful mule carried me into Guadaloupe at 2 o’clock in the afternoon, the siesta hour. I had come from the coast many miles away, over the hills. As I rode into the town, I said to the mule: “The next artist who is given an order to illustrate Dante’s ‘Inferno’ ought to come here. He could draw from life, pictures more infernal than a mere human mind could conceive.”
Reconcentrados lay everywhere under the broiling sun. The mule picked his way between human heaps that looked like so many little mounds of rags. Skeleton legs and arms protruded from out the heaps. Soft moans of mothers and the wailing of little children gave evidence of so many living deaths.
One kind-hearted Spaniard.
I presented my credentials to the commandante. He was the most genial Spanish official I had met between Havana and Guadaloupe. When he smiled, his face was all kindness. When he spoke of the reconcentrados, tears welled from his eyes. Yet around his mouth and chin were the cruel lines of a nature as stern as it was commiserative. He told me that the hospital was full, always full; there was room in its wards for only 200 patients, and only one doctor for all. All who entered that place of sickness came out of it, not cured, but dead. Three thousand human beings, mostly women and children, had passed away in that town in three months. Nearly all had died of starvation and exposure. When the cemetery was full, they began burying in the still burning tobacco fields on the hillsides.
But it was the siesta hour. The commandante excused himself, saying he would rest awhile and advised me to do the same.
The commandante’s house was in the center of the town. Round about was a circle of the houses of those who had owned the tobacco fields. Beyond these homes of the well-to-do were hundreds of huts. In these lived the reconcentrados, several families in each, or as many as could huddle within and not pull the roughly constructed frame of palm stalks down about their heads. Outside the circle of huts were the blackened fields and hills. On the tops of the hills, at intervals of 200 yards, was a circle of small houses that looked like sentry boxes. They were really little forts, with four soldiers in each. Beyond the forts were, heaven only knows how many, insurgent guerillas, lynx-eyed human watch dogs, always lurking and waiting for a chance to swoop upon one of the little forts, slay the garrison of four and dash back into the bushes.
A soldier’s ghastly burden.
At this moment not a soldier was in sight. Perhaps all were sleeping, like the commandante. Or perhaps the soldiers always remained inside the barricades surrounding their forts, fearing that to step outside would be to attract the bullets of the lurking insurgents. For such is warfare in Cuba’s hills to-day; much the same sort of warfare our American forefathers knew when each man who stepped from his doorway was likely to become a target for the arrows of the lurking and invisible redskins.
I was making a mental note of this picture of war and misery, when suddenly I saw a human form on the hilltop over which I had just come. The peculiar shape of the white hat worn by this apparition told me it was a soldier. In the middle of the white road he stopped, lowered a burden from his shoulders to the ground. What was that soldier doing there and what was the nature of his apparently heavy burden? From my perch on the balcony I beckoned to the sentry, who was pacing up and down in front of the commandante’s house. The sentry came up to the balcony, took one look in the direction of my pointing finger, and then rushed into the house. The next moment the commandante appeared. With a field glass he surveyed the figure on the hilltop.
“He is carrying something,” I said, as I watched the man in the distance reshoulder his burden and begin descending the hill.
“A dead man,” said the commandante. And he closed the glasses, thoughtfully. Then he gave me a long black cigar.
We waited. At the end of half an hour the soldier approached the house. Yes, on his back he was carrying a corpse.
Tell-tale scrap of paper.
He laid his burden down in the road and saluted the commandante. A group of officers and soldiers had gathered round. The body was that of a noted insurgent captain. A scrap of paper was produced. It had been found in the dead man’s pocket by the soldier who had carried the body into town.
The commandante read the paper. His brow contracted. Now he was all sternness.
“Bring the man, Jose Manual, here,” he said to a sergeant,
Five minutes later an old man, all bones and skin, stood before us. The miserable man trembled as with the palsy.
“Si, senor, I did it. I ran over the hill. I informed. I alone am to blame.”
Evidently the wretch knew of what he was accused. It was also apparent that he was not the only guilty one.
“Who wrote this for you?” the commandante asked.
“I did, senor; I wrote it.”
“The man lies,” murmured one of the officers.
“Bring hither the son of Jose Manual,” was the next order.
With that, another skeleton, a young one, stepped forward.
“I am here, senor, and I wrote the note. That is all. We two, senor. I wrote and my father ran. He was stronger, that day, than even my younger bones.”
The commandante compressed his lips. He turned to the sergeant and said: “At sunset have these two men shot.”
The two men merely spat upon the ground. For them death evidently had no terrors. As they were led away they made the sign of the cross again and again upon their naked breasts. A hundred starving wretches followed them in silence.
When we were again alone on the balcony—a broad, square balcony it was—the commandante noticed my look of inquiry.
“The story can be briefly told,” he said. “You are simply the witness of a tragedy that had its beginning on this very balcony one month ago. I sent word by the priest to a lady in Havana—an English lady—that we had 4,000 starving people in this town. Could she help us? Always generous, beneficent, self-sacrificing, the lady responded in person. She came by the coast steamer, landed at broad noon, traversed the two miles over which you came a few hours ago from the coast, bringing with her seven ox-cart loads of provisions, clothing and medicine. With her came her daughter, a young girl just over from England. Their charity was distributed from this very balcony to the starving people. The distribution occupied two entire days. Out of 4,000 people, 2,000 were given food and clothing and medicine. She promised the other half equal relief as soon as she could go to Havana and return again with the stores. On the night before she was to leave us the ladies and gentlemen of the leading families here, together with the officers of my staff, proposed to give the good Samaritans a banquet. The proposal was accepted. All gathered for the banquet on this balcony. I draped the front of the house in the Spanish colors, and hung out all the available lamps. That illumination was our ruin. Thirty-four sat down to dine. Only thirty lived through the first course. Of a sudden a hailstorm of bullets was poured into our midst. A bottle of wine in front of me flew into bits. Not a whole plate or a whole glass was left. We sprang up and fled into the house. Not all of us, though. No. Three men— three of my best officers—had fallen from their chairs, dead. The other—oh, God!”
English Samaritan murdered.
The commandante could not continue. He made a gesture indicating that I was to step into the house.
In his room he opened a huge wardrobe and took out a jacket, a tiny coat, such as might be worn by a soldier boy. The sleeves were loaded with the gold lace and golden stars of a colonel in the Spanish army. On the left side of this jacket or coat was a ragged hole.
“The bullet entered here,” the commandante said, sorrowfully. “It pierced her heart. The poor mother carried her dead back to Havana. That is all.”
I understood. A fatal volley had been poured into that dinner party by insurgents on the hilltops. The house was in the center of the town, and the lamps illuminating the Spanish colors had rendered the balcony the best of targets. These Spanish officers and an innocent young English girl, a Samaritan, were murdered.
And by whom? By the insurgents, who were guided to the hilltops by two of the very reconcentrados whom the victims had saved that day from starvation. One had written a note informing the insurgents of the circumstance, time, and place of the banquet. The other had delivered the note to one of the murderers. Father and son were equally guilty of ingratitude and treachery. The incriminating note had been found on the dead body of the insurgent captain, carried into town by the soldier of Spain.
The sad final scene.
At sunset a squad of twenty men, armed and in charge of a first lieutenant, filed out of the barracks. In front of the squad marched the two prisoners, their arms tied together above the elbows, behind their backs. Behind the soldiers came perhaps a thousand of the wretched and starving.
No murmuring, no uplifting of arms, nothing but solemn silence. In front of a wall, lining one of the blackened fields, the prisoners were made to kneel down. A priest stood over them speaking the last consoling words.
Out of the squad of twenty soldiers, eight stepped forth and leveled their rifles at the kneeling father and son.
The eight shots sounded as one, and one of the blackest crimes of this atrocious war was expiated.
American indignation growing.
The American People Favor Cuba—Influence of the Press—Hatred of Weyler—General Lee’s Reports of the Horrors of the War—The Question of Annexation—Spanish Soldiers Oppose American Aid for the Suffering—Consular Reports From the Island.
The people of the United States, from the commencement of the war, have been deeply interested in the success of the Cuban cause. The leading journals, with hardly an exception, have upheld the revolutionists, and have been largely instrumental in arousing our government to action. The following editorial is one of many on the subject which voiced the popular feeling, and gave hope to the struggling band of patriots, both in the United States and Cuba:
“Cuba bleeds at every pore, and Liberty goes weeping through a land desolated by cruel war and throttled by the iron hand of a foreign despotism. We hold that this government would be justified not only in recognizing Cuban belligerency, but also in recognizing Cuban independence, on the sole ground of the rights and claims of outraged humanity. ... In consequence of Weyler’s barbarous decrees the most harrowing scenes of savagery and brutality are of almost daily occurrence in this beautiful island, which is situated a hundred miles from our Florida coast line. In the midst of these horrifying and terrorizing spectacles Cuba extends her hand in supplication to this land of boasted freedom, asking only for a kindly glance of friendly recognition.
“Shall we refuse this small crumb of comfort from our bounteous board? Spain may have the right to expect American neutrality, but she has no right to demand indifference on our part to the fate of a brave people, whose territory almost touches our own, and is nearer to our national capital than are a number of the States of the Union, and whose heroic struggle for liberty was largely inspired by our glorious example of beneficent free institutions and successful self-government.
“Spanish rule in Cuba has been characterized by injustice, oppression, extortion, and demoralization. She has fettered the energies of the people, while she has fattened upon their industry. She smiled but to smite, and embraced but to crush. She has disheartened exertion, disqualified merit, and destroyed patience and forbearance, by supporting in riotous luxury a horde of foreign officials at the expense of native industry and frugality.
“Irritated into resistance, the Cubans are now the intended victims of increased injustice. But the inhuman design will fail of accomplishment. Cuban patriotism develops with the growth of oppression. The aspiration for freedom increases in proportion to the weight of its multiplied chains. The dawn of Cuban liberty is rapidly approaching.”
Consular reports of suffering in the island.
General Lee’s reports cover the period from November 17, 1897, to April 1, 1898. Much of the correspondence is marked confidential. Only excerpts are given in many instances. General Lee’s first dispatch related to the modifying of General Weyler’s concentration order by General Blanco. In his communication he says:
“First. The insurgents will not accept autonomy.
“Second. A large majority of the Spanish subjects who have commercial and business interests and own property here will not accept autonomy, but prefer annexation to the United States rather than an independent republic or genuine autonomy under the Spanish flag.”
The remainder of the letter is devoted to plans for the relief of the reconcentrados.
“In this city,” he writes, “matters are assuming better shape under charitable committees. Large numbers are now cared for and fed by private subscriptions. I witnessed many terrible scenes and saw some die while I was present. I am told General Blanco will give $100,000 to the relief fund.”
Annexation desired.
General Lee writes on December 13:
“The contest for and against autonomy is most unequal. For it there are five or six of the head officers at the Palace and twenty or thirty other persons here in the city. Against it, first, are the insurgents, with or without arms, and the Cuban noncombatants; second, the great mass of the Spaniards bearing or not bearing arms—the latter desiring, if there must be a change, annexation to the United States. Indeed, there is the greatest apathy concerning autonomy in any form. No one asks what it will be, or when or how it will come.
“I do not see how it could even be put into operation by force, because as long as the insurgents decline to accept it, so long, the Spanish authorities say, the war must continue.”
General Lee then describes the efforts to form an autonomistic cabinet in Cuba and the public disapprobation of the people.
On January 8 General Lee makes the following report:
“Sir—I have the honor to state, as a matter of public interest, that the reconcentrado order of General Weyler, formerly governor-general of this island, transformed about four hundred thousand self-supporting people, principally women and children, into a multitude to be sustained by the contributions of others, or die of starvation or of fevers resulting from a low physical condition and being massed in large bodies, without change of clothing and without food.
“Their homes were burned, their fields and plant beds destroyed, and their live stock driven away or killed.
“I estimate that probably two hundred thousand of the rural population in the provinces of Pinar del Rio, Havana, Matanzas, and Santa Clara have died of starvation or from resultant causes, and the deaths of whole families almost simultaneously, or within a few days of each other, and of mothers praying for their children to be relieved of their horrible sufferings by death are not the least of the many pitiable scenes which were ever present. In the provinces of Puerto Principe and Santiago de Cuba, where the ‘reconcentrado order’ could not be enforced, the great mass of the people are self-sustaining. ...
“A daily average of ten cents’ worth of food to two hundred thousand people would be an expenditure of $20,000 per day, and, of course, the most humane efforts upon the part of our citizens cannot hope to accomplish such a gigantic relief, and a great portion of these people will have to be abandoned to their fate.” ...
On January 12, 13, 14 and 15 General Lee sent brief cablegrams to the department in regard to those rioting and the demonstrations against autonomy and Blanco and the three newspaper offices.
January 13 he said some of the rioters threatened to go to the United States consulate. “Ships,” he said, “are not needed, but may be later. If Americans are in danger ships should move promptly for Havana. Uncertainty and excitement widespread.” The rioting ceased the next day and General Lee reported all quiet.
On March 1 General Lee reports that the distribution of food, medicines, and clothing to the destitute is proceeding satisfactorily. The work, he says, has been well organized and systematized under the supervision and direction of Miss Clara Barton, president of the Red Cross of the United States, and her active, able, and experienced assistant. He inclosed a letter on March 14 from Consul Barker, of Sagua, who requests him to transmit the following letter, which is addressed to him (General Lee):
“Dear Sir—I will thank you to communicate to the department as quickly as possible the fact that military commander and other military officers positively refuse to allow the reconcentrados, to whom I am issuing food in its raw state, to procure fuel with which to cook the food.
“In addition, they prohibited this class of people (I am only giving food to about one-fifth of the destitute—the authorities have quit altogether) from gathering vegetables cultivated within the protection of the forts, telling them ’the Americans propose to feed you, and to the Americans you must look.’”
General Lee reports on March 28 that “instructions have been given, by the civil government of Havana that the alcaldes and other authorities shall not give out any facts about the reconcentrados, and if any of the American relief committees should make inquiries concerning them, all such inquiries must be referred to him.”
General Lee’s dispatches end with a dispatch under date of April 1, transmitting the decree of the governor-general terminating the concentration order.
Consul BARKER’S report.
Consul Barker covers the conditions existing in Santa Clara province in several communications, beginning on November 20, 1897, and closing on March 24 last. His letters constitute one long story of distress, of sickness, destitution and death, until, indeed, the picture, even as drawn in the plain language of official communications, is revolting.
Mr. Barker devoted comparatively little space to political questions. Only one or two of his letters are along these lines. Probably the most notable of these is his communication of January 10 last:
“When Spain will admit defeat,” he writes, “no mortal, in my humble judgment, dare predict. That her plan of settlement— autonomy—is a failure, and that with this failure passes from under her dominion the island, is not to be questioned. Pending this admission on her part thousands of human beings, guiltless of bringing on or having any part in the insurrection, are dying for want of sustenance.”
Mr. Barker then suggests that residents in Cuba be allowed to take out first papers under the naturalization laws before a consul in Cuba, and that by this scheme, he thinks, Spain will be rebuked and change her laws.
He adds that the relief from the United States must be continued or the people must starve, so long as there is an armed Spanish soldier in the country, “since these people, for fear of being murdered, do not go to their country homes.”
On January 15 Mr. Barker writes: “In this consular district a reign of terror and anarchy prevails, which the authorities, if so disposed, are utterly powerless to control or in any measure to subdue. Aside from the suffering and desperation caused by the unparalleled destitution, I regard the situation as rapidly assuming a critical stage. As stated heretofore, in no way have the authorities departed from the policy pursued by the late, but not lamented, General Weyler. Spanish troops, as well as the guerrillas under the cruel chiefs Carreraz, Clavarrietta, and Lazo, continue to despoil the country and drench it with the blood of noncombatants. Although the ‘bando’ of the captain-general provides that laborers may return to estates, it restricts their operations to those having a garrison. Last week a number belonging to the ‘Sta. Ana’ estate, located within a league of Sagua, and owned by George Thorndike of Newport, were driven off after returning, and refused a permit as a protection by the military commander, Mayor Lemo, one of the trusted officers under the Weyler regime.”
Mr. Barker says that from February 15 to March 12 he cared for twelve hundred persons, increasing the number on the relief list after that date to two thousand.
On March 24 Mr. Barker increased his estimate as to the amount of food necessary to keep life in the people of that province. He said that one hundred and fifty tons a month were needful for that time, and that the distress was far greater than his former reports had shown. In the letter of this date he recounts the particulars of a visit to Santa Clara, where, he says, he learned from his own agents and also from the governor of the province that the number of persons in actual want exceeded any estimate which he had previously sent to the government He had said only three days before that he thought twenty tons a month should be added to the eighty tons previously suggested. In a communication of March 20 Mr. Barker says: “The distress is simply heart-rending. Whole families without clothing to hide nakedness are sleeping on the bare ground, without bedding of any kind, without food, save such as we have been able to reach with provisions sent by our own noble people; and the most distressing feature is that fully 50 per cent are ill, without medical attendance or medicine.”
Soldiers oppose aid.
Mr. Barker adds that if $5,000 could be sent to Consul General Lee, blankets, cots, and medicines could be purchased in Santa Clara, and thus save thousands who must die if compelled to await the sending of these supplies from the United States.
“I have,” he says, “found the civil governor willing to lend every aid in his power, but he admits that he can do nothing but assist with his civil officers in expediting relief sent by the United States. The military obstruct in every way possible.”
Consul Hyatt’s report.
Writing on December 5, Mr. Hyatt said: “The reconcentration order is relaxed, but not removed; but many people have reached a point where it is a matter of entire indifference to them whether it is removed or not, for they have lost all interest in the problem of existence. A census of the island taken to-day, as compared with one taken three years ago, I feel confident would show that two-thirds of the residents are missing, and the Spanish army would make no better showing.”
On December 14 Mr. Hyatt wrote: “The order of reconcentration practically has been wiped out, and, so far as the Spanish government is concerned, men go about nearly as they please. The insurgents and their sympathizers will unquestionably take advantage of the revocation to get from the towns and cities what they need and otherwise strengthen their cause. The effects on agricultural pursuits will be disappointing, because the great majority of those who would or should take up the work joined the insurgent forces when compelled to leave their homes, and the portion which came within the lines of reconcentration are women, children, old and sickly people, most of whom seem to have little interest in the problem of life. There is no one to take these people back to the fields and utilize their remaining strength. Their houses are destroyed, the fields are overgrown with weeds, they have no seeds to plant, and, if they had, they could not live sixty or eighty days until the crop matured; which, when grown, would more than likely be taken by one or the other of the contending parties.”
Dying at his door.
“As I write,” Mr. Hyatt closes this communication, “a man is dying in the street in front of my door, the third in a comparatively small time.”
Mr. Hyatt’s letter of December 21 deals largely with the sickness and the death rate on the island, which he characterizes as appalling. “Statistics,” he says, “make a grievous showing, but come far short of the truth. The disease is generally brought on by insufficient food. It is sometimes called paludal fever, and at others la grippe, and it is epidemic rather than contagious. From 30 to 40 per cent of the people were afflicted with it.”
He also reported smallpox and yellow fever as prevailing, and said that out of a total of sixteen thousand soldiers recently sent to Manzanillo, nearly five thousand were in hospitals or quartered on the people. He says that Dr. Gaminero, United States sanitary inspector, reported at that time that there were more than twelve thousand people sick in bed, not counting those in military hospitals. This is at least 35 per cent of the present population. Mr. Hyatt adds that quinine, the only remedy of avail, is sold ten times higher than in the United States. He says that steamers coming into port give out soup once a day to the waiting throngs, and that fresh meat sells at from 50 cents to $1 a pound.
Condemned to A living death.
Every ten days or so crowds of handcuffed men are driven through the streets of Havana, which they will never tread again, on their way to the transport ship which will convey them to the penal settlements on the African coast. Many of these men represent the elite of Cuban society. Seldom is a direct charge brought against them. Police spies denounce them as Cuban sympathizers. They are given no trial, that they may prove the charges false. On administrative order they are sentenced to exile for life, and frequently the source of their misfortune can be traced to private revenge or personal feeling. Since the beginning of the war at least ten thousand prominent citizens have been torn from their native island, families and friends, and sent to life exile in the filthy, overcrowded, deadly swamps of Fernando Po. With a little money and good health it is possible to survive in Ceuta, but none ever returns from Fernando Po. On the 23d of March a large party of citizens of the Matanzas district passed through Havana on their way to the transport. It was a sad procession. Hopeless, jaded, despairing men, with arms tied behind them and feet shackled, forced to leave Cuba and face a slow, horrible death. On the train from Matanzas two of these unfortunates were literally shot to pieces. The guards reported they tried to escape and were shot in the attempt. Their fellow-prisoners told a different story. “The two men were deliberately taken out on the platform between the cars and fired upon. And the soldiers would give no reason.” The action could likely be traced to personal revenge.
For three-quarters of a century the misgovernment of Spain in Cuba was a neighborhood shame and scandal to the people of the United States. Warning off the interference of any other foreign nation, under the policy known as the “Monroe Doctrine,” the American people witnessed the repeated efforts of a less favored nation of this hemisphere to release itself from the grasp of the oppressor. They witnessed at the periods of each of these revolts their own ships of war patroling the southern coast and the waters adjacent to Cuba to intercept any young Americans whose sympathies might lead them to join the Cuban cause, and they acquiesced, because the law as it stood exacted it. They witnessed in more than one of these revolts, when some young Americans, who had eluded the vigilance of United States cruisers, landed on the island and were captured by Spanish troops. These young men stood against the walls of Morro Castle and were shot like dogs, because their government was powerless under the law to aid them. They witnessed the offers on the part of their government at various times to terminate the continued scandal upon civilized government at one of the doorways of their country by the purchase of the island for a generous sum of money, and the rejections of such propositions by Spain.
The American people finally realized that peace could never come to Cuba until it was imposed by the action of the United States, and the opinion gradually grew that neither international obligations nor a desire for the maintenance of friendly relations with Spain could justify our government in permitting these outrages to continue at our doors.
Outrages on Americans in Cuba.
How Spain Pays Her Debts—An Old Soldier’s Experience—The Case of Pedro Casanova—Destruction of Property—Robbery and Murder—A Cruel Attack—The Insurgents to the Rescue—Hiding in a Cane Field—The Appeal to the Consul—Intervention Justifiable.
Many American citizens in Cuba have been confined in Spanish prisons, a number have been sent to the penal colonies, the property of some has been confiscated, and others have been murdered in cold blood. A celebrated case, which shows how slowly the wheels of justice sometimes revolve, was that of Antonio Maximo, a naturalized American citizen. He was condemned to death, and his estates declared the property of the government, by order of a court-martial, in 1870. He was charged with participating in the revolution then going on in Cuba and convicted, in spite of the fact that he was not residing on the island. The United States demanded restitution and indemnification, and in 1873 the Spanish republic admitted that the claim was just. The decree was confirmed in 1876 by the royal government, but the authorities in Cuba delayed its execution until the estates were in ruins. Spain finally offered the sum of 1,500,000 pesos as indemnity, and this offer was accepted in 1886. The Cortes, however, made no appropriation for the payment, and in 1888 the Spanish minister of state attempted to affix to the agreement the new condition that certain claims of Spanish subjects should be adjudicated and settled simultaneously. Secretary Bayard rejected the proposition, and our government continued to urge the Spanish authorities to fufill their contract. On June 12, 1895, Secretary Olney instructed Hannis Taylor, United States minister at Madrid, to ask Spain to give assurances that she would settle the claim within two months. The Spanish government then offered to pay the principal of the claim, and the claimant agreed to forego the interest. On September 14, the original claimant having died, the Spanish government paid $1,499,000, equal to 1,500,000 pesos, in settlement of the long-standing claim.
An old soldier’s experience.
William Ewing, of Buffalo, New York, served in the Seventeenth United States infantry all through the civil war, and is a member of the G. A. R. He went to Cuba, and invested $7,000, all the money he had, in a sugar plantation, and with his wife and daughter and his brother-in-law, William Hamilton, he took up his abode on the island.
Finally, owing to the unsettled conditions resulting from the war, he sent his family back to the United States, and joined the insurgent army. His brother-in-law also espoused the Cuban cause, and was killed in battle. Discouraged by his reverses, he decided to return to his native land, and made his escape from the island by boarding a blockade runner, which landed him at Atlantic City, from where he walked to New York. Grand Army comrades gave him food and shelter, and assisted him to reach his family. This man has a personal interest in the success of the cause, for when that time comes he hopes to regain possession of his property.
The case of Pedro Casanova.
Pedro Casanova, a citizen of the United States, resided near the little railway station of San Miguel de Jaruca with his family, which consists of his wife and three children and his nephew, the latter born in the United States. He told the story of his wrongs at the hands of the Spaniards to a representative of the New York Herald in the following words:
“I have suffered great outrages from the Spanish soldiers. The soldiers recently passed on the road, and my wife called my attention to the fact that they had broken into a vacant house where valuable property was stored, and were pulling things in pieces. Just then I saw two officers coming toward the house. I was very glad, and went out to meet them, and invited them to enter the house and refresh themselves. They accepted, and said they liked coffee. While they were drinking, one or two soldiers came and spoke to the captain, who asked me, ’Who are the men in the sugar house?’ ‘My employes,’ I replied, ’including one engineer. The others are engaged in repairs.’
“The captain said: ’I hear rebels are hidden there. I must take the men before the major for examination; the major himself will be here to-morrow.’
“After he left I found the door of the house on the hill broken open. A quantity of bottled beer had been taken, also my saddles and bridles, and many other things. Gloves and other articles of woman’s apparel were tossed in the yard. I went to the station. The drug store looked as if it had been visited by a mad bull. All the shelves and drawers were thrown out and smashed. An empty store opposite was in the same condition. The counter was thrown down and the door posts hacked by machetes. The large coffee mill was broken, and all was in disorder. An account of this work was what the soldiers had whispered to the captain. The officer had remarked to me with a sneer: ’The insurgents are very kind to you, as no harm has been done here.’
“I was surprised on the following Wednesday morning to hear shots as of several volleys of musketry. About three hundred soldiers— infantry and cavalry—were, in fact, outside, having surrounded my house. More soon appeared under command of Captain Cerezo Martinez. In most brutal and vulgar terms he ordered all in the house to go outside. The soldiers rushed in and dragged me out by the coat collar. My wife, with her baby, was taken out, a rifle being pointed at her breast. Eleutrie Zanabria, a negro servant, who was badly frightened, tried to hide. He was pulled to the front, and before my eyes a soldier struck him a heavy blow with his machete, cutting him deep in the head and arm, leaving a pool of blood on the floor. The wound was serious.
“An order was then given to take into custody all men on the estate. Near a tree beyond the hill, one hundred yards from the house, I stopped, about forty paces from the others, to talk to the captain, who had been at the house the week before. At that moment a young negro, Manuel Febels, made a dash to escape. Some cavalrymen rushed after him, firing. He fell, and they mutilated his body, taking out his eyes. The officer, enraged at the negro’s flight, pulled out his sabre, and shouted to the others of the party: ‘Get down on your knees!’ They obeyed and he had them bound and kept in that position a quarter of an hour.
“While I was talking to the captain my wife and five-year-old child were begging for mercy for me. The cavalrymen helped themselves to corn for their horses, and finally started. The officers told me that my nephew’s life and my own were only spared because we were Americans, and they did not want to get into trouble with the United States. They then ordered me to leave San Miguel without waiting a moment.
“Their explanation of the raid was that the rebels had fired upon the troops, and that they saw one man run, as he fired, into my house, and that, under the major’s instructions, the whole family should have been killed. My wife and children were in agony while I was away. My employes were all taken away by the troops.
“An officer of high rank in the Spanish army passed my place after I left, came to me here, and said: ’I know what has happened. The man in command is unfit to be an officer of Spain.’ I heard that my men had been taken to the Spanish camp and shot while eating breakfast.”
Destruction of property.
The brothers Farrar, in presenting their claim for indemnity, made the following statement:
“On Saturday, March 21, the dwelling house of the coffee plantation Estrella was the object of a wanton attack by the column of Gen. Bernat, operating in that region. The said building received cannon shots of grape and cannister, breaking the door, one window, several piazza columns, and greatly endangering the lives of the families of my brothers, Don Tasio and Don Luis Farrar, both American citizens.
“In consideration of all the above, and particularly on account of the danger to which his relatives were exposed, and also for the unjustifiable looting on the part of the regular troops in the service of a constituted government, the undersigned does most solemnly protest, and asks an immediate indemnity for the damages suffered, which he values at $5,000, as all work has been stopped on the plantation and everything abandoned.”
A cruel attack.
The case of Dr. Deligado is a particularly pathetic one. His home was in New York, where he was a practicing physician, but he went to Cuba to take possession of some property which he had inherited. His father told the story of their sufferings to a correspondent, and his account was supplemented by additional particulars from the doctor himself. The elder gentleman said:
“Our plantation is called Dolores, the old name being Morales. It was about half past one on the 4th day of March when a regiment of rebels, about four hundred or five hundred men, invaded the place. They told us they were Maceo’s men, and soon after them came Maceo, with twenty-four women, sixteen whites and eight mulattoes. I understood that these women were the wives of the officers.
“Maceo shook hands politely and asked if I would allow them to take breakfast with us. Of course there was nothing to do but say yes, and the men spread themselves over about seventy acres of the plantation, the officers and ladies coming into the house. They had provisions with them, but desired to cook and serve them, which they did. They sat down at the table and were soon joking and laughing. Suddenly we heard rifle shots. Hernandez yelled to his wife to hand him his machete. Then all went out and found that the firing had come from what seemed to be an advance guard of the Spanish troops. There was some skirmishing at a distance, and the insurgents rode away. They did not wish to fight on the plantation, as they were on another mission.
“The Spaniards had fired the cane, thinking there were other insurgents hiding there. Spanish bullets rattled on the tiled roof of the house, and farm hands who were plowing back of the house got frightened and wished to come in.
“After a while I opened the window to see how matters stood and saw two cavalrymen and a captain, with two soldiers. My son and the farm hands went out toward the burning cane in an attempt to save some oxen that were near the cane. When the captain saw them he shouted: ‘Who are those people?’ I told him they were our workmen, and he then gave orders to clear the house. They rushed their horses right through the house, the captain leading them. I took out my American papers and showed them to him to prove that I was a peaceful citizen. ’They are the worst documents you could have,’ said the captain. They answered my son in the same way, and the captain repeated the order to clear the house. Then they ordered us to march on as prisoners and told the women to stay back. My son asked them to let me stay back with the women, and they allowed me to do so. Of course the women were panic-stricken and screaming when they saw their husbands being taken away.
“We heard shots and then a second volley. One of the women cried out: ‘They have killed my husband!’ Her words were true. After about three hours I ventured out, and I saw coming towards the house the old farm hand, a man of about seventy. He seemed to be holding a red handkerchief over his arm, but when I got nearer I saw that it was covered with blood. He cried out when he saw me: ‘They have killed them!’ ‘My son! My son!’ I cried. ’He was the first one they killed,’ he said.
“I took the man in the house and tried to bind up his arm, which had been shattered by a bullet. I endeavored to pacify the women, and told them they should go to the nearest neighbors for help. The two white farm hands, who had been hiding in the cane, then came over toward the house, while I was trying to quiet the women. They were afraid to move, panic-stricken, and would not go for help.
“Suddenly a young man dashed up to the house at full gallop. He drew his revolver and told the farm hands to get cots and pillows and medicine to bring to the missing men in case any of them should be still alive. He said he would shoot them if they disobeyed, and they did as he directed. They made up a litter, and we walked on till we found the place where the men lay in a pool of blood.
“I looked into my son’s face and cried out: ‘My son, my son!’ He opened his eyes and whispered: ‘Father, they have killed us.’”
The old gentleman broke down in a passion of weeping at these recollections of the awful scene, and the son gave his account of the horrible butchery:
“They marched us along,” said the Doctor, “and I spoke to the general: ’General, I am an American citizen, and here are my papers from Mr. Williams.’ ’They are the worst things you could have,’ he said. ’I wish the Consul were here himself, so that I could treat him thus,’ and he struck me three times in the face. Then he sounded the bugle calling the volunteers, and ordered us taken to the rear guard. Of course, we knew that this meant death. They tied us in a line with our hands pinioned. I knew the sergeant and said to him: ’Is it possible that you are going to kill me?’ ‘How can I help it?’ he answered. Then the order was given and the soldiers rushed upon us with machetes. Their knives cut our ropes as we tried to dodge the blows, and the soldiers fired two volleys at us. The first shot grazed my head, and I dropped to the ground as though dead. The old farm hand also threw himself to the earth. This act saved our lives.
“The other four men who tried to fight were killed. At the second discharge a bullet pierced my side. When we all lay as though dead they came up and turned us over and searched our pockets—mine first, of course, as I was better dressed than the other men. One of the soldiers noticed that my breast moved and shouted out: ‘This fellow is not dead yet. Give him another blow,’ and he raised his machete and gave me a slash across the face and throat. Then I became unconscious.”
Delgado’s father took up the story as his son left off: “The brave young man who brought us to the place where my son was, now jumped from his horse and gave orders to the men to lift my son on the litter, as we found he was the only man still living. We put a pillow under his head, and the two farm hands lifted the litter and carried it into the cane field. Meanwhile the women relatives of the dead men came up and began to wail and cry. The young man, whom we afterwards found was an insurgent leader, told them they should be quiet, as their lamentations would bring the Spanish troops upon the scene again.
“Then the litter was carried into the cane field. This young man said: ’You must immediately write to the American consul. I will furnish you with a messenger, and you may rest safely in this cane field with your son. I will put a guard of 500 men around it so that they cannot burn it, as they do when they know people are hiding in the cane.’
“For five days I was in the cane field with my son. It rained upon us, and then I put the pillows over my son’s chest, in order to protect him. I suffered greatly from rheumatism. Only the young man appeared and said that General Maceo had sent a guard to escort me back to my home. With my boy we were taken there and guard kept around our house. The messenger came back from the Consul, and I came on to Havana to see General Weyler, who had my son brought here to the city.”
Stories of outrages on Americans that are unquestionably true might be furnished in numbers sufficient to more than fill this entire volume, but enough have been given to convince the most skeptical that the demand for intervention was justified on our own account, as well as for the sake of the people of Cuba.
McKINLEY succeeds Cleveland.
The Cuban Question Not a New One—The Efforts of Former Administrations to Bring About a Settlement—President Cleveland’s Message—Recommendations of President McKinley—The Spanish Minister’s Insulting Letter—His Resignation Accepted—The Apology of the Spanish Government.
For more than ninety years the United States government has been confronted with a Cuban question. At times it has disappeared from our politics, but it has always reappeared. Once we thought it wise to prevent the island from winning its independence from Spain, and thereby, perhaps, we entered into moral bonds to make sure that Spain governed it decently. Whether we definitely contracted such an obligation or not, the Cuban question has never ceased to annoy us. The controversies about it make a long series of chapters in one continuous story of diplomatic trouble. Many of our ablest statesmen have had to deal with it as Secretaries of State and as Ministers to Spain, and not one of them has been able to settle it. One President after another has taken it up, and every one has transmitted it to his successor. It has at various times been a “plank” in the platforms of all our political parties—as it was in both the party platforms of 1896—and it has been the subject of messages of nearly all our Presidents, as it was of President Cleveland’s message in December, 1896, in which he distinctly expressed the opinion that the United States might feel forced to recognize “higher obligations” than neutrality to Spain. In spite of periods of apparent quiet, the old trouble has always reappeared in an acute form, and it has never been settled; nor has there recently been any strong reason for hope that it could be settled merely by diplomatic negotiation with Spain. Our diplomats have long had an experience with Spanish character and methods such as the public can better understand since war has been in progress. The pathetic inefficiency and the continual indirection of the Spanish character are now apparent to the world; they were long ago apparent to those who have had our diplomatic duties to do.
Thus the negotiations dragged on. We were put to trouble and expense to prevent filibustering, and filibustering continued in spite of us. More than once heretofore has there been danger of international conflict, as for instance when American sailors on the Virginius were executed in Cuba in 1873. Propositions have been made to buy the island, and plans have been formed to annex it. All the while there have been great American interests in Cuba. Our citizens have owned much property and made investments there, and done much to develop its fertility. They have paid tribute unlawful as well as lawful, both to insurgents and to Spanish officials. They have lost property, for which no indemnity has been paid. All the while we have had a trade with the island, important during periods of quiet, irritating during periods of unrest.
Trouble not A new one.
The Cuban trouble is, therefore, not a new trouble, even in an acute form. It had been moving forward toward a crisis for a long time. Still, while our government suffered these diplomatic vexations, and our citizens these losses, and our merchants these annoyances, the mass of the American people gave little serious thought to it. The newspapers kept us reminded of an opera bouffe war that was going on, and now and then there came information of delicate and troublesome diplomatic duties for our Minister to Spain. If Cuba were within a hundred miles of the coast of one of our populous States, and near one of our great ports, periods of acute interest in its condition would doubtless have come earlier and oftener, and we should long ago have had to deal with a crisis by warlike measures. Or if the insurgents had commanded respect instead of mere pity, we should have paid heed to their struggle sooner; for it is almost an American maxim that a people cannot govern itself till it can win its own independence.
When it began to be known that Weyler’s method of extermination was producing want in the island, and when appeals were made to American charity, we became more interested. President Cleveland found increasing difficulty with the problem. Our Department of State was again obliged to give it increasingly serious attention, and a resolute determination was reached by the administration that this scandal to civilization should cease—we yet supposed peacefully—and Spain was informed of our resolution. When Mr. McKinley came to the Presidency, the people, conscious of a Cuban problem, were yet not greatly aroused about it. Indeed, a prediction of war made at the time of the inauguration would have seemed wild and foolish. Most persons still gave little thought to Cuba, and there seemed a likelihood that they would go on indefinitely without giving serious thought to it; for neither the insurgents, nor the Cuban junta, nor the Cuban party in the United States, if there was such a party, commanded respect.
President McKINLEY’S message.
President McKinley sent a message to Congress a few weeks after his inauguration, in which he recommended the appropriation of $50,000 for the relief of American citizens in Cuba. It read as follows:
“Official information from our Consuls in Cuba establishes the fact that a large number of American citizens in the island are in a state of destitution, suffering for want of food and medicines. This applies particularly to the rural districts of the central and eastern parts. The agricultural classes have been forced from their farms into the nearest towns where they are without work or money. The local authorities of the several towns, however kindly disposed, are unable to relieve the needs of their own people, and are altogether powerless to help our citizens. The latest report of Consul-General Lee estimates that 600 to 800 are without means of support. I have assured him that provision would be made at once to relieve them. To that end I recommend that Congress make an appropriation of not less than $50,000, to be immediately available for use under the direction of the Secretary of State.
“It is desirable that a part of the sum which may be appropriated by Congress should, in the discretion of the Secretary of State, also be used for the transportation of American citizens who, desiring to return to the United States, are without means to do so.”
The joint resolution offered by Senator Gallinger, which embodied the recommendations of President McKinley, passed both Houses without a dissenting vote.
An influential journal printed the following editorial concerning this measure:
“It is an essentially new departure in international affairs, and it is in order for the sticklers for precedent to enter fussy protestation, as they did in connection with the Venezuelan question, against the Monroe doctrine, declaring it was not to be found in the code of international law. It is certainly very unusual, if not unprecedented, for the government to make a relief appropriation for its own people in some foreign land, The truth is, this Cuban situation is wholly exceptional. Here is a little island in a state of civil war. It is largely a sectional war, one part of the island being in possession of one of the belligerents, and the other section in possession of the other belligerent.
“Several hundreds of our American citizens are in that section of the island occupied by Spanish armies, and are suffering, in common with the Cubans themselves, from a deliberate policy of starvation. Weyler is trying to conquer by famine. That is his fixed purpose, and, from the nature of the case, no discrimination is made between Spanish subjects in rebellion and American citizens sojourning in the island. If the policy of starvation cannot be maintained without this indiscrimination then so much the worse for Weyler and his policy. Congress has only to make the appropriation asked for, and the relief will go forward, without regard to any collateral consequences.”
De Lome’s insulting letter.
One of the most sensational incidents in connection with Spanish affairs prior to the destruction of the Maine was the publication of a letter, which fell into the hands of the Cuban Junta, written by Senor Dupuy De Lome, the representative of the Spanish government in Washington, to the editor of a newspaper at Madrid. A translation of the letter is given:
My Distinguished and Dear Friend:
You need not apologize for not having written to me. I ought to have written to you, but have not done so on account of being weighed down with work.
The situation here continues unchanged. Everything depends on the political and military success in Cuba. The prologue of this second method of warfare will end the day that the Colonial Cabinet will be appointed, and it relieves us in the eyes of this country of a part of the responsibility of what may happen there, and they must cast the responsibility upon the Cubans, whom they believe to be so immaculate.
Until then we will not be able to see clearly, and I consider it to be a loss of time and an advance by the wrong road, the sending of emissaries to the rebel field, the negotiating with the autonomists, not yet declared to be legally constituted, and the discovery of the intentions and purposes of this government. The exiles will return one by one, and when they return will come walking into the sheepfold, and the chiefs will gradually return.
Neither of these had the courage to leave en masse, and they will not have the courage to thus return. The President’s message has undeceived the insurgents, who expected something else, and has paralyzed the action of Congress, but I consider it bad.
Besides the natural and inevitable coarseness with which he repeats all that the press and public opinion of Spain has said of Weyler, it shows once more what McKinley is—weak and catering to the rabble, and, besides, a low politician, who desires to leave a door open to me and to stand well with the jingoes of his party. Nevertheless, as a matter of fact, it will only depend on ourselves whether he will prove bad and adverse to us.
I agree entirely with you that without military success nothing will be accomplished there, and without military and political success there is here always danger that the insurgents will be encouraged, if not by the government, at least by part of the public opinion. I do not believe you pay enough attention to the role of England. Nearly all that newspaper canaille, which swarm in your hotel, are English, and while they are correspondents of American journals, they are also correspondents of the best newspapers and reviews of London.
Thus it has been since the beginning. To my mind, the only object of England is that the Americans should occupy themselves with us and leave her in peace, and if there is a war, so much the better. That would further remove what is threatening her, although that will never happen. It would be most important that you should agitate the question of commercial relations, even though it would be only for effect, and that you should send here a man of importance, in order that I might use him to make a propaganda among the senators and others, in opposition to the Junta and to win over exiles. There goes Amblarad. I believe he comes too deeply taken up with political matters, and there must be something great or we shall lose. Adela returns your salutation, and we wish you in the new year to be a messenger of peace and take this new year’s present to poor Spain. Always your attentive friend and servant, who kisses your hand,
Enrique Dupuy de Lome.
As soon as this letter was made public, De Lome cabled his resignation to the Spanish government, and withdrew his passports from the State Department in Washington, thus saving himself the mortification of a dismissal. The Spanish government at Madrid sent the following communication to Minister Woodford regarding the affair:
The Spanish Government, on learning of the incident in which Minister Dupuy De Lome was concerned, and being advised of his objectionable communication, with entire sincerity laments the incident, states that Minister De Lome had presented his resignation, and it had been accepted before the presentation of the matter by Minister Woodford. That the Spanish Ministry, in accepting the resignation of a functionary whose services they have been utilizing and valuing up to that time, leaves it perfectly well established that they do not share, and rather, on the contrary, disauthorize the criticisms tending to offend or censure the chief of a friendly State, although such criticisms had been written within the field of friendship and had reached publicity by artful and criminal means.
That this meaning had taken shape in a resolution by the Council of Ministers before General Woodford presented the matter, and at a time when the Spanish Government had only vague telegraphic reports concerning the sentiments alluded to. That the Spanish nation, with equal and greater reason, affirms its view and decision after reading the words contained in the letter reflecting upon the President of the United States.
As to the paragraph concerning the desirability of negotiations of commercial relations, if even for effect and importance of using a representative for the purpose stated in Senor Dupuy De Lome’s letter, the government expresses concern that in the light of its conduct, long after the writing of the letter, and in view of the unanswerable testimony of simultaneous and subsequent facts, any doubt should exist that the Spanish Government has given proof of its real desire and of its innermost convictions with respect to the new commercial system and the projected treaty of commerce.
That the Spanish Government does not now consider it necessary to lay stress upon, or to demonstrate anew the truth and sincerity of its purpose and the unstained good faith of its intentions. That publicly and solemnly, the Government of Spain contracted before the mother country and its colonies a responsibility for the political and tariff charges which it has inaugurated in both Antilles, the natural ends of which, in domestic and international spheres, it pursues with firmness, which will ever inspire its conduct.
The case of Evangelina Cisneros.
A Martyr to the Cause—Filial Devotion—Spanish Chivalry—In a Spanish Prison—An American Rescuer—Yankee Pluck Against Brute Force—The Escape—Arrival in New York—Enthusiastic Reception—A Home in the Land of Liberty.
Spanish officials in Cuba have always denied the charge that they made war on women, and have insisted that the tales of persecution of the weaker sex that have reached this country were inventions of the insurgents, published to gain sympathy for their cause. In direct contradiction to this claim is the story of Evangelina Cisneros, the niece of the president of the Cuban republic. Her father, a Cuban patriot of prominence, was banished to the Isle of Pines, and she showed her filial devotion by leaving a luxurious home to share his exile. While there, her beauty attracted the attention of a Spanish General, who tried by every means in his power to gain her favor. It was natural that she should despise anyone who wore the hated uniform of Spain, and, because she rejected his advances, she was charged with conspiring against the government, and sent to a jail in Havana.
Her unhappy fate attracted the attention of Mr. W. R. Hearst, the proprietor of the New York Journal, and he, actuated no doubt by philanthropic motives, as well as the desire to advance the interests of his paper, determined to make an effort for her release.
How this was accomplished is best told by Mr. Karl Decker, who was Mr. Hearst’s representative in carrying out the plot.
“I have broken the bars of prison and have set free the beautiful captive of Monster Weyler, restoring her to her friends and relatives, and doing by strength, skill and strategy what could not be accomplished by petition and urgent request of the Pope. Weyler could blind the Queen to the real character of Evangelina, but he could not build a jail that would hold against enterprise when properly set to work.
“To-night all Havana rings with the story. It is the one topic of conversation. Everything else pales into insignificance. No one remembers that there has been a change in the Ministry. What matters it if Weyler is to go? Evangelina Cisneros has escaped from the jail, thought by everyone to be impregnable. A plot has been hatched right in the heart of Havana—a desperate plot—as shown by the revolver found on the roof of the house through which the escape was effected, and as the result of this plot, put into effect under the very nose of Spanish guards, Evangelina is free. How was it done? How could it have been done?
Details of the escape.
“These are the questions asked to-night by the frequenters of the cafes throughout the city, where the people of Havana congregate. It is conceded by all, by the officials of the palace included, to be the most daring coup in the history of the war, and the audacity of the deed is paralyzing. No one knows where Evangelina is now, nor can know.
“To tell the story of the escape briefly, I came here three weeks ago, having been told to go to Cuba and rescue from her prison Miss Cisneros, a tenderly-reared girl, descended from one of the best families in the island, and herself a martyr to the unsatisfied desires of a beast in Spanish uniform. I arrived at Cienfuegos late in September, telegraphed to a known and tried man in Santiago de Cuba to meet me in Havana, and then went to Santa Clara, where I picked up a second man, known to be as gritty as Sahara, and then proceeded to Havana.
“Here I remained in almost absolute concealment, so as to avoid the spies that dog one’s steps wherever one may go, and make impossible any clever work of this kind. Both the men who accompanied me, Joseph Hernandon and Harrison Mallory, pursued the same course, and remained quiet until all plans had been completed.
“The fact that Miss Cisneros was incommunicado made the attempt seem at first beyond the possibility of success, but we finally, through Hernandon, who was born on the island, and speaks Spanish like a native, succeeded in sending a note to her through an old negress, who called upon one of her friends in the prison. A keeper got this note through two hands to Miss Cisneros, and three keepers later got to her a package of drugged sweets. Having established communication with her, we began work without losing a day.”
The prison left behind.
Mr. Decker then tells hew he rented a house adjoining the prison, and instructed Miss Cisneros to give the drugged candies to the other women who were in the prison with her. As soon as the drug produced the desired effect on them, the bars of the prison were cut from the outside, and Miss Cisneros was assisted through the window, onto the roof of the house Mr. Decker had rented, kept in concealment for two days, and then smuggled on board a ship, bound for the land of liberty.
Her arrival in New York is thus described:
“Evangeline Cisneros, one week ago a prisoner among the outcast wretches in a Havana prison, is a guest at the Waldorf hotel. Surrounded by luxury and elegance, she is alternately laughing and crying over the events of one short week. One week ago last night a correspondent broke the bars of her cell and led her to liberty over the flat roofs of the Cuban capital. It is the memory of those thrilling few minutes that meant for her a lifetime of captivity or a future of peace and liberty that most often occurs to her now.
“She arrived to-day on the Ward liner, Seneca, and was taken from the steamer by a boat at quarantine, thanks to the courtesy of the Government and the quarantine authorities. When the Seneca sailed from Havana there figured on the passenger list one Juan Sola. A girl who signed the name of Juana Sola to the declaration, exacted by the Custom House officers, was the nearest passenger to making good the lost one. Her declaration was that she brought nothing dutiable into the country.
“If ever that declaration was truthfully made, it was made in the case of this brown-eyed, chestnut-haired girl, who was so anxious to please the man who made her sign. All she had was the simple red gown she had on her back and a bundle that contained a suit of clothes such as a planter’s son might have worn.
“Those were the clothes that Juan Sola wore when he ran up the gang-plank in Havana, with a big slouch hat over the chestnut hair, that even danger of discovery could not tempt her to cut, and a fat cigar between a red, laughing pair of lips that accidentally, maybe, blew a cloud of smoke into the face of the chief of police, who was watching that plank, and made the features of the young man very indistinct indeed.
“There was no reason why the chief of police should scan too closely the young man with the big cigar. Juan Sola’s passport had been duly issued by the Spanish government, and as far as the papers showed, there was no reason to suspect him.
“Of course Juan Sola was the girl the correspondent had rescued from prison, and the fame of whose escape was on every tongue in Havana, the girl for whose capture the police had for three days been breaking into houses and guarding the roads, and yet she passed under their noses with no disguise but a boy’s suit of clothes.
“Miss Cisneros did not court any more danger than was necessary, and at once went to her cabin. The next day, however, when Morro Castle was left far behind, she appeared on deck, transformed into Senorita Juana Sola, alias Evangelina Cisneros.
“When the ship sighted Cape Hatteras light the young woman asked what light it was, and when told that it was an American beacon, she knelt down in the saloon and prayed. After that she wept for joy. She must have been all strung up with excitement over her experiences, and when she saw the light she could contain herself no longer, but simply overflowed.
“Nothing could be seen of the Cuban girl as the Seneca slowed opposite quarantine to permit the boarding of the health officer. The other passengers, after the habit of ocean travelers, grouped amidships to scan the vessel of the tyrant, who had it in his power to lock them all up in quarantine. The girl was hidden away in her stateroom, wondering what reception awaited her in the big city whose sky-line broke the horizon ahead.
“The people on board were kind to her from the moment she revealed her identity, but at this moment when she had reached the haven of refuge, to gain which she and her gallant rescuers had risked death itself, she fled from the new-found friends and would not even look out of the door of her stateroom.”
Miss Cisneros was given a great reception in Madison Square garden, during her stay in New York, where many noted men and women congratulated her on her happy escape, and welcomed her to “the land of the free, and the home of the brave.” Since then she has become the protege of Mrs. John A. Logan, widow of the famous General, and is now a member of her family.
It is suspected that General Weyler connived at the escape of Miss Cisneros, as it is not probable that it could have been accomplished without the knowledge of the prison officials, and as they were not called to account for their negligence, it would seem that they were simply obeying orders in keeping their eyes conveniently closed.
The Military Judge of Havana issued a proclamation commanding Miss Cisneros to return to prison, but it was evident that this was merely a legal formality. There were men in Cuba, occupying high official positions, who could not afford to have the story of the persecutions of which she was a victim, while in voluntary exile with her father in the Isle of Pines, made known, for it would have gained for them the scorn and contempt of the civilized world. Her case had attracted the attention of men and women of prominence, not only in our own country, but in England, France and Germany as well, and it was likely to become an international affair, and Weyler probably decided to escape these complications by allowing her to be “rescued” from her prison cell.
While all the details of the affair go to prove that this supposition is correct, all concerned have guarded the secret well, and it is but just to state that there is no direct proof to support the theory, and both the man who planned and the one who executed deserved all the honors they received.
Work op miss Clara Barton and the red cross,
The Geneva Conference—Miss Barton’s Work in the War of the Rebellion—Organization of the American Red Cross—The Work in Cuba—Appeal to the Public—A Floating Hospital—Correspondence with Admiral Sampson—The Spanish Prisoners in Key West, and What the Red Cross Did for Them.
Many attempts have been made to bring about an international agreement for mitigating the horrors and mortality of battle. The first successful movement of this kind was started at the same time that the civil war was raging in the United States. A conference of jurists and others interested in humanitarian work was held in Geneva, Switzerland, in 1863. They drew up an international compact, which was approved by the Swiss government, and the support and sanction of the French empire were won. It was several years, however, before the articles of agreement were signed by all the civilized nations of the world, and, strange to relate, the United States was the last of the great powers to officially recognize the rights to special protection secured to the bearers of the Red Cross symbol.
In the autumn of 1881 a final effort was made to gain the agreement of the United States to the stipulations of the convention of Geneva, and assurances were given by President Arthur of his willingness to accede. The President and the Senate subsequently formally recognized the association, and the treaty was signed March 16, 1882. Pending this action by the government, a national society was formed and incorporated under the laws of the District of Columbia, bearing the name of the American Association of the Red Cross.
By this international treaty the Red Cross society is given peculiar privileges in times of war, and its agents and officers are permitted to carry on their work without hindrance from either of the belligerents, but they are prohibited from having anything, however remote, to do with military or naval operations. They deal exclusively with the means provided to aid the wounded, relieve the suffering, and care for the sick, in all of which the Red Cross agents know neither friend nor foe. In case of a battle the ambulances, surgeons and nurses of the society go upon the field at soon as it is possible for them to do so and carry out the work of mercy that has been undertaken.
The American society has been generous in extending its aid to other countries in times of war, and during the Franco-Prussian hostilities in 1870-71 it sent to Paris from its own funds $120,000, while the French branch expended $2,500,000. Even the Spanish branch contributed to the humanitarian work of that war in the sum of $4,000. In the Turko-Russian, the Tunisian, the Tonquin, the Madagascar, the Greeco-Turkish and several other wars the Red Cross has carried on its work of mercy.
Miss Clara Barton.
When the war of the Rebellion begun Miss Clara Barton was a clerk in the Patent Office in Washington, She resigned her position to devote herself to the care of wounded soldiers on the field of battle. In 1864 she was appointed by General Butler “lady in charge” of the hospitals at the front of the Army of the James. In 1865 she was sent to Andersonville, Georgia, to identify and mark the graves of Union soldiers buried there, and in the same year was placed by President Lincoln in charge of the search for the missing men of the Union army, and while engaged in this work she traced out the fate of 30,000 men. In 1873 she inaugurated a movement to secure recognition of the Red Cross society by the United States government, and finally, during the administration of President Arthur, she saw her labors rewarded. She naturally became President of the American branch of the society, which was founded in 1882, and she still holds that honored office.
Work in Cuba.
After Weyler’s infamous order of reconcentration went into effect the Red Cross society was not long in realizing that it had work to do among the suffering people of Cuba. An appeal was made to the public, and an expedition was dispatched to the island, with Miss Barton at its head. In speaking of her work during that reign of terror, Senator Proctor said in the course of his address to the Senate:
“Miss Barton needs no endorsement from me. I have known and esteemed her for many years, but had not half appreciated her capability and her devotion to her work. I especially looked into her business methods, fearing here would be the greatest danger of mistake, that there might be want of system, and waste and extravagance, but I found that she could teach me on all those points. I visited the warehouse where the supplies are received and distributed, saw the methods of checking, visited the hospitals established or organized and supplied by her, saw the food distributed in several cities and towns, and everything seems to me to be conducted in the best possible manner.”
When diplomatic relations were broken off between our country and Spain, and the American consuls in Cuba were recalled, it was deemed advisable that the representatives of the Red Cross then in Cuba should come with them. Miss Barton and her assistants returned to New York and immediately commenced the work of preparation to follow our army into Cuba. The following appeal was issued:
The American National Red Cross Relief Corps, acting under the auspices of American National Red Cross, has for its objects the collection of funds for providing medical and surgical attendance, nursing, medical supplies, food, clothing, and such necessary assistance as may be required by the American National Red Cross, upon call of the United States government, in order to unify all endeavors to that end during the present war.
Under the provisions of the Geneva conference, from which every National Red Cross society derives its authority, the American National Red Cross is directed to provide such relief as may be required by all, without recognition of friend or foe, who may suffer from the calamities incidental to war, pestilence or famine.
The Red Cross here, and throughout the civilized world, by a wide and varied experience in recent wars, recognizing by international treaty the sacred obligations of helpfulness for the suffering, wherever found, has so perfected its organization that it becomes the recognized and legitimate channel for contributions from all classes of individuals, and every variety of auxiliary association.
For the purpose of properly systemizing the benevolent impulses of the general public, and of giving proper direction of efficient Red Cross work, the committee solicits the co-operation of individuals and auxiliary associations throughout the country, confident that through such means the various funds and articles collected can most safely and most directly reach their ultimate destination.
The steamer State of Texas was chartered and loaded with food, medicines and hospital supplies, and headquarters were established at Key West.
When Miss Barton joined the State of Texas at Key West on the 29th of April, there seemed to be no immediate prospect of an invasion of Cuba by the United States army, and, consequently, no prospect of an opportunity to relieve the distress of the starving Cuban people. Knowing that such distress must necessarily have been greatly intensified by the blockade, and anxious to do something to mitigate it—or, at least, to show the readiness of the Bed Cross to undertake its mitigation—Miss Barton wrote and sent to Admiral Sampson, Commander of the Naval Forces on the North Atlantic Station, the following letter:
S. S. State of Texas, May 2, 1898.
Admiral W. T. Sampson, U. S. N., Commanding Fleet before Havana:
Admiral—But for the introduction kindly proffered by our mutual acquaintance Captain Harrington, I should scarcely presume to address you. He will have made known to you the subject which I desire to bring to your gracious consideration.
Papers forwarded by direction of our government will have shown the charge intrusted to me; viz., to get food to the starving people of Cuba. I have with me a cargo of 1,400 tons, under the flag of the Red Cross, the one international emblem of neutrality and humanity known to civilization. Spain knows and regards it.
Fourteen months ago the entire Spanish government at Madrid cabled me permission to take and distribute food to the suffering people in Cuba. This official permission was broadly published. If read by our people, no response was made and no action taken until two months ago, when, under the humane and gracious call of our honored President, I did go and distribute food, unmolested anywhere on the island, until arrangements were made by our government for all American citizens to leave Cuba. Persons must now be dying there by hundreds, if not thousands, daily, for want of the food we are shutting out. Will not the world hold us accountable? Will history write us blameless? Will it not be said of us that we completed the scheme of extermination commenced by Weyler?
Fortunately, I know the Spanish authorities in Cuba, Captain-General Blanco and his assistants. We parted with perfect friendliness. They do not regard me as an American merely, but as the National representative of an international treaty to which they themselves are signatory and under which they act. I believe they would receive and confer with me if such a thing were made possible.
I should like to ask Spanish permission and protection to land and distribute food now on the State of Texas. Could I be permitted to ask to see them under a flag of truce? If we make the effort and are refused, the blame rests with them; if we fail to make it, it rests with us. I hold it good statesmanship at least to divide the responsibility. I am told that some days must elapse before our troops can be in position to reach and feed these starving people. Our food and our forces are here, ready to commence at once. With assurances of highest regard, I am, Admiral,
Very respectfully yours,
[Signed] Clara Barton.
At the time when the above letter was written, the American Red Cross was acting under the advice and direction of the State and Navy Departments, the War Department having no force in the field.
Admiral Sampson replied as follows:
U. S. Flagship New York, First Rate, Key West, Fla., May 2, 1898.
Miss Clara Barton, President American National Red Cross:
1. I have received through the senior naval officer present a copy of a letter from the State Department to the Secretary of the Navy; a copy of a letter from the Secretary of the Navy to the Commander-in-Chief of the naval force at this station; and also a copy of a letter from the Secretary of the Navy to the commandant of the naval station at Key West.
2. From these communications it appears that the destination of the S. S. State of Texas, loaded with supplies for the starving reconcentrados in Cuba, is left, in a measure, to my judgment.
3. At present I am acting under instructions from the Navy Department to blockade the coast of Cuba for the purpose of preventing, among other things, any food supply from reaching the Spanish forces in Cuba. Under these circumstances it seems to me unwise to let a ship-load of such supplies be sent to the reconcentrados, for, in my opinion, they would be distributed to the Spanish army. Until some point be occupied in Cuba by our forces, from which such distribution can be made to those for whom the supplies are intended, I am unwilling that they should be landed on Cuban soil.
Yours very respectfully,
[Signed] W. T. Sampson, Rear-Admiral U. S. N.
Commander-in-Chief U. S. Naval Force, North Atlantic Station.
After this exchange of letters Miss Barton had a conference with Admiral Sampson, in the course of which the latter explained more fully his reasons for declining to allow the State of Texas to enter any Cuban port until such port had been occupied by American troops.
On the 3d of May Miss Barton sent the following telegram to Stephen. E. Barton, Chairman of the Central Cuban Belief Committee, in New York:
Key West, May 3,1898.
Stephen E. Barton, Chairman, etc.:
Herewith I transmit copies of letters passed between Admiral Sampson and myself. I think it important that you should present immediately this correspondence personally to the government, as it will place before them the exact situation here. The utmost cordiality exists between Admiral Sampson and myself. The Admiral feels it his duty, as chief of the blockading squadron, to keep food out of Cuba, but recognizes that, from my standpoint, my duty is to try to get food into Cuba. If I insist, Admiral Sampson will try to open communication under a flag of truce; but his letter expresses his opinion regarding the best method. Advices from the government would enable us to reach a decision. Unless there is objection at Washington, you are at liberty to publish this correspondence if you wish.
[Signed] Clara Barton.
On May 6 the Chairman of the Central Cuban Relief Committee replied as follows:
Washington, D. C,, May 6,1898.
Clara Barton, Key West, Fla.:
Submitted your message to President and Cabinet, and it was read with moistened eyes. Considered serious and pathetic. Admiral Sampson’s views regarded as wisest at present. Hope to land you soon. President, Long, and Moore send highest regards.
[Signed] Barton.
Under these circumstances, of course, there was nothing for the Red Cross steamer to do but wait patiently in Key West until the army of invasion should leave Tampa for the Cuban coast.
Meanwhile, however, Miss Barton had discovered a field of beneficent activity for the Red Cross in Key West, where there were nearly 200 Spaniards, mostly fishermen, prisoners on vessels captured while running the blockade, and without means of subsistence. Most of these unfortunate men lived on fish after they were captured and none of them had a chance to obtain other food, as under the law they were not permitted to leave their vessels. The naval officers had no authority to supply the captives with food from the ships in the harbor, so their lot was far from being enviable.
When Miss Clara Barton received word of their plight she sent Dr. Egan, the chief medical officer of the expedition, with several attendants, around among the fleet of prizes to distribute food. On one of the larger smacks Dr. Egan found that the crew had had nothing but fish to eat for several days. The well in the boat, in which there were hundreds of live fish, contained also a large number of dead ones, which were putrefied and were rapidly polluting the living ones. The physician immediately ordered the dead fish removed and fresh water pumped into the well. He then furnished bread, potatoes and salt meat to the crew, so that, the continuity of Friday diet might be changed.
The Red Cross relief boats made a complete and accurate list of the Spanish prizes in the harbor—twenty-two in all—with the numerical strength of every crew, the amount of provisions, if any, on every vessel, and the quantity and kind of food that each would require. This was at once provided, and thus almost the first work done by the Red Cross in our war with Spain was the feeding of representatives of a nation that had forced us into war mainly because of its policy of starvation of the people of Cuba.
On the morning of June 20, the Red Cross steamer State of Texas left Key West for Santiago, stocked with food and medicines, and having on board Miss Barton, Mr. Kennan, and a complete working force of doctors and nurses. They were warmly welcomed on their arrival on Cuban shores, and the State of Texas was the first American ship to enter the harbor of Santiago after the surrender.
The Red Cross has done a grand work on many battlefields in every quarter of the globe, but never has it rendered more efficient aid to suffering humanity than it did on the southern shores of the island of Cuba. On the battlefield, braving the bullets of the foe, in the hospitals, ministering to the wants of the wounded and the dying, among the wretched non-combatants, giving food to the starving, and nursing the fever-stricken refugees, these noble men and women were ever ready to answer to the cry of the needy and the helpless.
The catastrophe to the Maine.
The Board of Inquiry in Session—Its Report Received by Congress —Spanish Officials in Cuba Show Sympathy—The Evidence of the Divers—A Submarine Mine—The Officers and Men of the Maine Exonerated—Responsibility Not Fixed.
The story of the destruction of the battleship Maine has already been told in these pages. The Naval Board appointed to inquire into the causes of the disaster was composed of the following officers of the United States Navy: Captain Sampson, of the Iowa; Captain Chadwick, of the New York; Captain Marix, of the Vermont, and Lieutenant Commander Potter, of the New York.
After an investigation which lasted for more than three weeks, this Board of Inquiry sent its report to President McKinley, who transmitted it to Congress, accompanied by the following message:
To the Congress of the United States:
For some time prior to the visit of the Maine to Havana harbor our consular representatives pointed out the advantages to flow from the visits of national ships to the Cuban waters, in accustoming the people to the presence of our flag as the symbol of good will and of our ships in the fulfillment of the mission of protection to American interests, even though no immediate need therefor might exist.
Accordingly, on the 24th of January last, after conference with the Spanish Minister, in which the renewal of visits of our war vessels to Spanish waters was discussed and accepted, the peninsular authorities at Madrid and Havana were advised of the purpose of this Government to resume friendly naval visits at Cuban ports, and in that view the Maine would forthwith call at the port of Havana. This announcement was received by the Spanish Government with appreciation of the friendly character of the visit of the Maine, and with notification of intention to return the courtesy by sending Spanish ships to the principal ports of the United States. Meanwhile the Maine entered the port of Havana on the 25th of January, her arrival being marked with no special incident besides the exchange of customary salutes and ceremonial visits.
The Maine continued in the harbor of Havana during the three weeks following her arrival. No appreciable excitement attended her stay; on the contrary, a feeling of relief and confidence followed the resumption of the long interrupted friendly intercourse. So noticeable was this immediate effect of her visit that the Consul-General strongly urged that the presence of our ships in Cuban waters should be kept up by retaining the Maine at Havana, or, in the event of her recall, by sending another vessel there to take her place.
At forty minutes past nine in the evening of the 15th of February the Maine was destroyed by an explosion, by which the entire forward part of the ship was utterly wrecked. In this catastrophe two officers and two hundred and sixty-four of her crew perished, those who were not killed outright by her explosion being penned between decks by the tangle of wreckage and drowned by the immediate sinking of the hull.
Prompt assistance was rendered by the neighboring vessels anchored in the harbor, aid being especially given by the boats of the Spanish cruiser Alphonse XII., and the Ward Line steamer City of Washington, which lay not far distant. The wounded were generously cared for by the authorities of Havana, the hospitals being freely opened to them, while the earliest recovered bodies of the dead were interred by the municipality in the public cemetery in the city. Tributes of grief and sympathy were offered from all official quarters of the island.
The appalling calamity fell upon the people of our country with crushing force and for a brief time an intense excitement prevailed, which in a community less just and self-controlled than ours might have led to hasty acts of blind resentment. This spirit, however, soon gave way to the calmer processes of reason and to the resolve to investigate the facts and await material proof before forming a judgment as to the cause, the responsibility, and, if the facts warranted, the remedy. This course necessarily recommended itself from the outset to the Executive, for only in the light of a dispassionately ascertained certainty could it determine the nature and measure of its full duty in the matter.
The usual procedure was followed, as in all cases of casualty or disaster to national vessels of any maritime state. A Naval Court of Inquiry was at once organized, composed of officers well qualified by rank and practical experience to discharge the duties imposed upon them. Aided by a strong force of wreckers and divers, the court proceeded to make a thorough investigation on the spot, employing every available means for the impartial and exact determination of the causes of the explosion. Its operations have been conducted with the utmost deliberation and judgment, and while independently pursued, no source of information was neglected and the fullest opportunity was allowed for a simultaneous investigation by the Spanish authorities.
Report of the board received.
The finding of the Court of Inquiry was reached after twenty-three days of continuous labor, on the 21st of March, and having been approved on the 22d by the commander-in-chief of the United States naval forces of the North Atlantic station, was transmitted to the Executive.
It is herewith laid before Congress, together with the voluminous testimony taken before the court. Its purport is in brief as follows:
When the Maine arrived at Havana she was conducted by the regular government pilot to Buoy No. 5, to which she was moored in from five and one-half to six fathoms of water. The state of discipline on board and the condition of her magazines, boilers, coal bunkers and storage compartments are passed in review, with the conclusion that excellent order prevailed and that no indication of any cause for an internal explosion existed in any quarter.
At eight o’clock in the evening of February 15th everything had been reported secure and all was quiet. At forty minutes past nine o’clock the vessel was suddenly destroyed. There were two distinct explosions with a brief interval between them. The first lifted the forward part of the ship very perceptibly; the second, which was more open, prolonged and of greater volume, is attributed by the court to the partial explosion of two or more of the forward magazines.
The evidence of the divers establishes that the after part of the ship was practically intact and sank in that condition a very few minutes after the explosion. The forward part was completely demolished. Upon the evidence of a concurrent external cause the finding of the court is as follows:
At frame seventeen the outer shell of the ship, from a point eleven and one-half feet from the middle line of the ship, and six feet above the keel, when in its normal position, has been forced up so as to be now about four feet above the surface of the water; therefore about thirty-four feet above where it would be had the ship sunk uninjured.
The outside bottom plating is bent into a reversed V-shape, the after wing of which, about fifteen feet broad and thirty-two feet in length (frame 17 to frame 25), is doubled back upon itself against the continuation of the same place extending forward. At frame 18 the vertical keel is broken in two and the flat keel bent into an angle similar to the angle formed by the outside bottom plate. This break is now about six feet below the surface of the water and about thirty feet above its normal position.
A submarine mine.
In the opinion of the court this effect could have been produced only by the explosion of a mine situated under the bottom of the ship, at about frame 18 and somewhat on the port side of the ship.
The conclusions of the court are: That the loss of the Maine was not in any respect due to fault or negligence on the part of any of the officers or members of her crew;
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
That no evidence has been obtainable fixing the responsibility for the destruction of the Maine upon any person or persons.
I have directed that the finding of the Court of Inquiry and the views of this Government thereon be communicated to the Government of Her Majesty, the Queen Regent, and I do not permit myself to doubt that the sense of justice of the Spanish nation will dictate a course of action suggested by honor and the friendly relations of the two governments.
It will be the duty of the Executive to advise the Congress of the result, and in the meantime deliberate consideration is invoked.
(Signed,) William McKINLEY. Executive Mansion, March 28, 1898.
Report of the investigating board.
The text of the report of the Board of Investigation was as follows:
U. S. S. Iowa, first rate, Key West, Florida, Monday, March 21, 1898.
After full and mature consideration of all the testimony before it, the court finds as follows:
1. That the United States battleship Maine arrived in the harbor of Havana, Cuba, on the twenty-fifth day of January, Eighteen Hundred and Ninety-eight, and was taken to Buoy No. 4, in from five and a half to six fathoms of water, by the regular Government pilot. The United States Consul-General at Havana had notified the authorities at that place the previous evening of the intended arrival of the Maine.
2. The state of discipline on board the Maine was excellent, and all orders and regulations in regard to the care and safety of the ship were strictly carried out. All ammunition was stowed in accordance with prescribed instructions, and proper care was taken whenever ammunition was handled. Nothing was stowed in any one of the magazines or shell rooms which was not permitted to be stowed there.
The magazine and shell rooms were always locked after having been opened, and after the destruction of the Maine the keys were found in their proper place in the Captain’s cabin, everything having been reported secure that evening at eight P. M. The temperatures of the magazines and shell room were taken daily and reported. The only magazine which had an undue amount of heat was the after 10- inch magazine, and that did not explode at the time the Maine was destroyed.
The torpedo warheads were all stowed in the after part of the ship under the ward room, and neither caused nor participated in the destruction of the Maine. The dry gun cotton primers and detonators were stowed in the cabin aft, and remote from the scene of the explosion.
Waste was carefully looked after on board the Maine to obviate danger. Special orders in regard to this had been given by the commanding officer. Varnishes, dryers, alcohol and other combustibles of this nature were stowed on or above the main deck and could not have had anything to do with the destruction of the Maine. The medical stores were stored aft under the ward room and remote from the scene of the explosion. No dangerous stores of any kind were stowed below in any of the other store rooms.
The coal blinkers were inspected daily. Of those bunkers adjacent to the forward magazines and shell rooms four were empty, namely, “B3, B4, B5 and B6.” “A5” had been in use that day and “A16” was full of new river coal. This coal had been carefully inspected before receiving it on board. The bunker in which it was stowed was accessible on three sides at all times, and the fourth side at this time, on account of bunkers “B4” and “B6” being empty. This bunker, “A16” had been inspected Monday by the engineer officer on duty.
The fire alarms in the bunkers were in working order, and there had never been a case of spontaneous combustion of coal on board the Maine. The two after boilers of the ship were in use at the time of the disaster, but for auxiliary purposes only, with a comparatively low pressure of steam and being tended by a reliable watch. These boilers could not have caused the explosion of the ship. The four forward boilers have since been found by the divers and are in a fair condition.
On the night of the destruction of the Maine everything had been reported secure for the night at eight P. M. by reliable persons, through the proper authorities, to the commanding officer. At the time the Maine was destroyed the ship was quiet, and, therefore, least liable to accident caused by movements from those on board.
3. The destruction of the Maine occurred at 9:40 P. M. on the 15th day of February, 1898, in the harbor of Havana, Cuba, she being at the time moored to the same buoy to which she had been taken upon her arrival.
There were two explosions of a distinctly different character, with a very short but distinct interval between them, and the forward part of the ship was lifted to a marked degree at the time of the first explosion.
The first explosion was more in the nature of a report, like that of a gun, while the second explosion was more open, prolonged and of greater volume. This second explosion was, in the opinion of the court, caused by the partial explosion of two or more of the forward magazines of the Maine.
The evidence bearing upon this, being principally obtained from divers, did not enable the court to form a definite conclusion as to the condition of the wreck, although it was established that the after part of the ship was practically intact and sank in that condition a very few minutes after the destruction of the forward part
4. The following facts in regard to the forward part of the ship are, however, established by the testimony: That portion of the port side of the protective deck which extends from about frame 30 to about frame 41 was blown up aft, and over to port, the main deck from about frame 30 to about frame 41 was blown up aft, and slightly over to starboard, folding the forward part of the middle superstructure over and on top of the after part.
This was, in the opinion of the court, caused by the partial explosion of two or more of the forward magazines of the Maine.
5. At frame 17 the outer shell of the ship, from a point eleven and one-half feet from the middle line of the ship and six feet above the keel when in its normal position, has been forced up so as to be now about four feet above the surface of the water, therefore, about thirty-four feet above where it would be had the ship sunk uninjured. The outside bottom plating is bent into a reversed V-shape, the after wing of which, about fifteen feet broad and thirty-two feet in length (from frame 17 to frame 25) is doubled back upon itself against the continuation of the same plating extending forward.
At frame 18 the vertical keel is broken in two and the flat keel bent into an angle similar to the angle formed by the outside bottom plating. This break is now about six feet below the surface of the water and about thirty feet above its normal position.
The officers of the Maine exonerated.
In the opinion of the court this effect could have been produced only by the explosion of a mine situated under the bottom of the ship at about frame 18, and somewhat on the port side of the ship.
6. The court finds that the loss of the Maine on the occasion named was not in any respect due to fault or negligence on the part of the officers or men of the crew of said vessel.
7. In the opinion of the court the Maine was destroyed by the explosion of a submarine mine, which caused the partial explosion of two of her forward magazines.
8. The court has been unable to obtain evidence fixing the responsibility for the destruction of the Maine upon any person or persons.
W. T. Sampson, Captain U. S. N., President.
A. Marix, Lieutenant-Commander U. S. N., Judge Advocate.
Patience at the vanishing point.
Our Former Troubles with Spain Recalled—The
Verdict of the
People—Spanish Rule a Blot on Civilization—The
Attitude of
Other Nations—The Necessity for Delay—The
Message to Congress—
“The War in Cuba Must Stop!”
The American people did not wait for the report of the Naval Board to form an opinion as to the cause of the tragedy. The masses think in events, and not in syllogisms, and this was an event. This event provoked suspicions in the public mind. The thought of the whole nation was instantly directed to Cuba. The fate of the sailors on the Virginius, twenty-five years ago, was recalled. The public curiosity about everything Cuban and Spanish became intense. The Weyler method of warfare became more generally known. The story of our long diplomatic trouble with Spain was recalled. Diplomacy was obliged to proceed with doors less securely shut. The country watched for news from Washington and from Madrid with eagerness. It happened to be a singularly quiet and even dull time in our own political life—a time favorable for the concentration of public attention on any subject that prominently presented itself.
Leslie’s Weekly voiced the popular sentiment in its issue of April 14 in the following language:
“If the report of the board of inquiry is accepted as final, then the destruction of the Maine was an act of war. The Maine was in a Spanish harbor on a peaceful errand. Its location was fixed by the Spanish authorities, and if a mine was planted in the harbor, it could only have been planted by the Spaniards. To think otherwise is to discredit the official report. The verdict may be challenged by the Spanish government. Spain may insist on the raising of the wreck and upon an expert examination. If such an examination is made, and if the weight of evidence controverts the verdict, our position will be humiliating. We take it, therefore, that our government is entirely satisfied with the examination, and that it accepts the verdict of the court of inquiry as final and without appeal. This verdict makes Spain responsible for the loss of the Maine, the sacrifice of the lives of 266 heroes, and for all the consequences involved. The indictment must be answered. Any other nation than this would have demanded an immediate answer. We can wait. On the answer made by Spain the issues of the future must depend. No policy of evasion such as Spain has pursued in all her dealings with us will enable her to escape. She is at the bar of judgment with bloody fingers, and must plead guilty. No other plea can be accepted. And the punishment must fit the crime.”
Causes leading to strife.
The better the condition of Cuba was understood, the more deplorable it was seen to be; the more the government of the island was examined, the wider seemed the divergence between Spain’s methods and our own; the more the diplomatic history of the case was considered, the plainer became Spain’s purpose to brook no interference, whether in the name of humanity or in the name of friendly commercial interests. The calm report of the naval court of inquiry on the blowing up of the Maine and Senator Proctor’s report on the condition of Cuba put the whole people in a serious mood.
These and more made their contributions to the rapidly rising excitement. But all these together could not have driven us to war if we had not been willing to be driven—if the conviction had not become firm in the minds of the people that Spanish rule in Cuba was a blot on civilization that had now begun to bring reproach to us; and when the President, who favored peace, declared it intolerable, the people were ready to accept his judgment.
Congress, it is true, in quiet times, is likely to represent the shallows and the passing excitement of our life rather than its deeper moods, but there is among the members of Congress a considerable body of conservative men; and the demand for war was practically unanimous, and public opinion sustained it. Among the people during the period when war seemed inevitable, but had not yet been declared—a period during which the powers of Europe found time and mind to express a hope for peace—hardly a peace meeting was held by influential men. The President and his Cabinet were known to wish longer to try diplomatic means of averting war, but no organized peace party came into existence. Except expressions of the hope of peace made by commercial and ecclesiastical organizations, no protest was heard against the approaching action of Congress, Many thought that war could be postponed, if not prevented, but the popular mood was at least acquiescent, if not insistent, and it eventually became unmistakably approving.
Not only was there in the United States an unmistakable popular approval of war as the only effective means of restoring civilization in Cuba, but the judgment of the English people promptly approved it—giving evidence of an instinctive race and institutional sympathy. If Anglo-Saxon institutions and methods stand for anything, the institutions and methods of Spanish rule in Cuba were an abomination and a reproach. And English sympathy was not more significant as an evidence of the necessity of the war, and as a good omen for the future of free institutions, than the equally instinctive sympathy with Spain that was expressed by some of the decadent influences on the continent; indeed, the real meaning of the American civilization and ideals will henceforth be somewhat more clearly understood in several quarters of the world.
American character will be still better understood when the whole world clearly perceives that the purpose of the war was only to remove from our very doors this cruel and inefficient piece of medievalism which was one of the great scandals of the closing years of the century.
Notwithstanding the fact that we were on the very verge of war, with all its horrors, all its possibilities of destruction to life and happiness, the nation pursued its accustomed way, transacted its business by day, and slept peacefully at night. Upon the shoulders of the Chief Executive rested the gravest of all responsibilities, and the nation trusted to him to carry it safely. Rash and impetuous demands for hasty and hostile action were heard. Congressmen, under the pressure of their constituents, filled the air with cries for speedy action, but amid all the tumult the President stood serene. He realized, what the country, strangely enough, had not comprehended, that we were drifting into a conflict with a nation that was on a war footing. He knew that we were totally unprepared for war. Munitions, ships, stores, supplies, of vast amount and infinite variety, were absolutely required before a step could be taken. Harbor defenses, a closer connection between exposed points, and the installation of modern armaments—a thousand things had to be done, and done at once. Modern guns required supplies of modern ammunition, of which there was scarcely any to be obtained on this side of the water. This was the situation, as the President, the heads of the army and the navy, and the Cabinet saw it, and it was left discreetly undisclosed to the world.
They understood the necessity of delay as well as the necessity for statesmanship of the highest quality in dealing with the Cuban question. We lost nothing by their delay. We gained untold advantages by their prudence, a prudence that never forsook them, even when the preparations for war were completed. The message to Congress was a calm, dispassionate, judicial presentation of the case, and upon that presentation of facts and of evidence we went before the jury of the nations of the world. There could be but one verdict rendered that the American people could accept, and that verdict, whether it came by peace or war, was, in the language of the President’s message, that “the war in Cuba must stop!”
Events in the American CONQRESS.
Cuba’s Friends in Congress—Senator Proctor’s Address to His Colleagues—A Notable Exhibition of Patriotism—An Appropriation for the National Defense—Relief for the Survivors and Victims of the Maine—The Recognition of Cuban Independence.
From the date of the first attempt of the people of Cuba to secure their independence from Spain, they have had advocates in the American Congress who have worked with voice and vote in their behalf. After the commencement of the revolution in 1895 these champions gradually increased in numbers and influence, until at the time of Mr. McKinley’s inauguration they included in their ranks many of the leaders in both houses.
In February, 1898, several Senators and Representatives went to Cuba for the purpose of studying the conditions on the island, and to gain a personal knowledge of the results of Spain’s policy of rule or ruin.
Senator Proctor was one of this committee, and after their return to the United States, in a speech to his colleagues, he made the strongest argument in favor of intervention in behalf of Cuba that was ever made in the Senate of the United States. He had carefully prepared his address, and he delivered it as an official report of what he had observed on the island. He gave no opinion of what action should be taken by the government. He said the settlement “may well be left to an American President and the American people.” But while he did not make a recommendation in so many words, he left the impression with all who heard him that he favored a declaration by our government of the independence of Cuba. He declared that he was opposed to annexation, and, while many Cubans advocated the establishment of a protectorate by the United States, he could not make up his mind that this would be the best way out of the difficulty. He told his associates that he believed the Cubans capable of governing themselves, and reinforced this statement by the assertion that the Cuban population would never be satisfied with any government under Spanish rule. The senator’s remarkable speech undoubtedly had a powerful effect, both in influencing congressional action, and in swaying public opinion. As an able and responsible member of Congress and an ex-secretary of war, his words would carry weight under any circumstances, but apart from these considerations, the speech was notable because of its evident fidelity to facts, and its restraint from everything resembling sensationalism.
A notable exhibition of patriotism.
There was never a more notable exhibiton of harmony and patriotism in any legislative body in the world than occurred in the House of Representatives when Congressman Cannon presented a bill appropriating $50,000,000 for the national defense and placing this amount in President McKinley’s hands, to be expended at his discretion.
Party lines were swept away, and with a unanimous voice Congress voted its confidence in the administration. Many members who were paired with absent colleagues took the responsibility of breaking their pairs, an unprecedented thing in legislative annals, in order that they might go on record in support of this vast appropriation to maintain the dignity and honor of their country. Speaker Reed, who as the presiding officer, seldom voted, except in case of a tie, had his name called and voted in his capacity as representative. The scene of enthusiasm which greeted the announcement of the vote—yeas, 311; nays, none—has seldom been paralleled in the House. The bill passed the Senate without a dissenting vote, and, on March 9, the President signed the measure, thus making it a law.
Relief for the survivors of the Maine.
On March 21, the House unanimously passed the bill for the relief of the survivors and victims of the Maine disaster. The bill reimbursed the surviving officers and men for the losses they sustained to an amount not to exceed a year’s sea pay, and directed the payment of a sum equal to a year’s pay to the legal heirs of those who perished.
When the President sent to Congress the report of the Naval Board of Examiners the feeling of that body at once found open expression in resolutions proposing a declaration of war, recognition of the independence of Cuba, armed intervention, and other decisive and warlike steps against Spain. Every group of senators talked of Cuba. Constant and continual conferences were held, and all recognized the seriousness of the occasion, On the House side it was apparent that the majority could no longer be controlled by what was known as the conservative element, led by the speaker. Groups of members in a state of excitement were to be seen on every hand. It was generally acknowledged that a serious condition had arisen, that a crisis was at hand.
On April 11 the long expected message was received. In it the President asked Congress to authorize him to take measures to secure a termination of hostilities in Cuba, and to secure in the island the establishment of a stable form of government, and to use the military and naval forces of the United States as might be necessary. The message was received in silence. The most notable criticism made was the entire absence of any reference to Cuban independence. The admission in the message that the President had proposed an armistice to Spain until October provoked vigorous comment. But conservative members were highly pleased with the position taken by the President, and many still hoped that war might be prevented.
However, this did not prevent the purchase of a number of armed cruisers from foreign powers, which were transferred to the United States flag. The ships of several passenger and mail lines were also purchased, or leased as auxiliary cruisers, and were at once remanned and put in commission. The most notable examples were the two American built ships, St. Patil and St. Louis of the American line. The new purchases were fitted for their new uses at once, and the preparations for war went on without delay.
Congress, taking its cue from the President, united upon the following resolutions which were signed by the President on April 20:
Joint resolutions for the recognition of the independence of the people of Cuba demanding that the government of Spain relinquish its authority and government in the island of Cuba, and to withdraw its land and naval forces from Cuba and Cuban waters, and directing the President of the United States to use the land and naval forces of the United States to carry these resolutions into effect.
Whereas, The abhorrent conditions which have existed for more than three years in the island of Cuba, so near our own borders, have shocked the moral sense of the people of the United States, have been a disgrace to Christian civilization, culminating, as they have, in the destruction of a United States battleship, with 260 of its officers and crew, while on a friendly visit in the harbor of Havana, and cannot longer be endured, as has been set forth by the President of the United States in his message to Congress of April 11, 1898, upon which the action of Congress was invited; therefore, be it resolved;
First—That the people of the island of Cuba are, and of right ought to be, free and independent.
Second—That it is the duty of the United States to demand, and the government of the United States does hereby demand, that the government of Spain at once relinquish its authority and government in the island of Cuba and Cuban waters.
Third—That the President of the United States be, and hereby is, directed and empowered to use the entire land and naval forces of the United States, and to call into the actual service of the United States the militia of the several States to such an extent as may be necessary to carry these resolutions into effect.
Fourth—That the United States hereby disclaims any disposition or intention to exercise sovereignty, jurisdiction or control over said island, except for the pacification thereof, and asserts its determination when that is accomplished to leave the government and control of the island to its people.
The Spanish government was deluded by the belief that in the event of war our country would not be able to present a united front, and that sectional animosities would weaken our strength. The action of Congress from the time of the first rumors of war to the end of the session snowed how little ground there was for this belief. The representatives of the people from all sections of our broad land gave President McKinley loyal support in every undertaking, and the South vied with the North, the East with the West, in expressions of devotion to our nation and our flag.
President McKINLEY acts.
The Message to Congress—Loss of American Trade—Terrible Increase in the Death Rate—American Aid for the Starving—The President’s Proposition to Spain—Grounds for Intervention—The Destruction of the Maine—The Addenda.
With the press and public of the entire country at a fever heat of indignation, and the evident determination on the part of a large majority of the members of the Congress of the United States to bring matters to a crisis, it was evident to all that the time for action had arrived.
The President yielded to the popular demand, and on April 11 he sent to Congress the following message:
To the Congress of the United States:
Obedient to that precept of the Constitution which commands the President to give from time to time to the Congress information of the state of the Union, and to recommend to their consideration such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient, it becomes my duty now to address your body with regard to the grave crisis that has arisen in the relations of the United States to Spain by reason of the warfare that for more than three years has raged in the neighboring island of Cuba. I do so because of the intimate connection of the Cuban question with the state of our own Union, and the grave relation the course of which it is now incumbent upon the nation to adopt, must needs bear to the traditional policy of our Government if it is to accord with the precepts laid down by the founders of the Republic and religiously observed by succeeding administrations to the present day.
The present revolution is but the successor of other similar insurrections which have occurred in Cuba against the dominion of Spain, extending over a period of nearly half a century, each of which during its progress has subjected the United States to great effort and expense in enforcing its neutrality laws, caused enormous losses to American trade and commerce, caused irritation, annoyance and disturbance among our citizens, and by the exercise of cruel, barbarous and uncivilized practices of warfare, shocked the sensibilities and offended the humane sympathies of our people.
Since the present revolution began, in February, 1895, this country has seen the fertile domain at our threshold ravaged by fire and sword in the course of a struggle unequaled in the history of the island, and rarely paralleled as to the number of the combatants and the bitterness of the contest by any revolution of modern times, where a dependent people striving to be free have been oppressed by the power of the sovereign State. Our people have beheld a once prosperous community reduced to comparative want, its lucrative commerce virtually paralyzed, its exceptional productiveness diminished, its fields laid waste, its mills in ruins, and its people perishing by tens of thousands from hunger and destitution. We have found ourselves constrained in the observance of that strict neutrality which our laws enjoin, and which the law of nations commands, to police our waters and watch our own seaports in prevention of any unlawful act in aid of the Cubans.
Loss of American trade.
Our trade has suffered, the capital invested by our citizens in Cuba has been largely lost, and the temper and forbearance of our people have been so seriously tried as to beget a perilous unrest among our own citizens, which has inevitably found its expression from time to time in the National Legislature, so that issues wholly external to our own body politic stand in the way of that close devotion to domestic advancement that becomes’s self-contained commonwealth, whose primal maxim has been the avoidance of all foreign entanglements. All this must needs awaken, and has indeed aroused, the utmost concern on the part of this government, as well during my predecessor’s term as in my own.
In April, 1896, the evils from which our country suffered through the Cuban war became so onerous that my predecessor made an effort to bring about a peace through the mediation of this government in any way that might tend to an honorable adjustment of the contest between Spain and her revolted colony, on the basis of some effective scheme of self-government for Cuba under the flag and sovereignty of Spain. It failed, through the refusal of the Spanish Government then in power to consider any form of mediation, or, indeed, any plan of settlement which did not begin with the actual submission of the insurgents to the mother country, and then only on such terms as Spain herself might see fit to grant. The war continued unabated. The resistance of the insurgents was in no wise diminished.
The efforts of Spain were increased, both by the despatch of fresh levies to Cuba and by the addition to the horrors of the strife of a new and inhuman phase, happily unprecedented in the modern history of civilized Christian peoples. The policy of devastation and concentration by the Captain-General’s bando of October, 1896, in the province of Pinar del Rio was thence extended to embrace all of the island to which the power of the Spanish arms was able to reach by occupation or by military operations. The peasantry, including all dwelling in the open agricultural interior, were driven into the garrison towns or isolated places held by the troops. The raising and moving of provisions of all kinds were interdicted. The fields were laid waste, dwellings unroofed and fired, mills destroyed, and, in short, everything that could desolate the land and render it unfit for human habitation or support was commanded by one or the other of the contending parties and executed by all the powers at their disposal.
By the time the present administration took office a year ago, reconcentration—so-called—had been made effective over the better part of the four central and western provinces, Santa Clara, Matanzas, Havana and Piuar del Rio. The agricultural population, to the estimated number of 300,000, or more, was herded within the towns and their immediate vicinage, deprived of the means of support, rendered destitute of shelter, left poorly clad, and exposed to the most unsanitary conditions. As the scarcity of food increased with the devastation of the depopulated areas of production, destitution and want became misery and starvation.
Terrible increase in the death rate.
Month by month the death rate increased in an alarming ratio. By March, 1897, according to conservative estimate from official Spanish sources, the mortality among the reconcentrados, from starvation and the diseases thereto incident, exceeded 50 per centum of their total number. No practical relief was accorded to the destitute. The overburdened towns, already suffering from the general dearth, could give no aid.
In this state of affairs my administration found itself confronted with the grave problem of its duty. My message of last December reviewed the situation, and narrated the steps taken with a view to relieving its acuteness and opening the way to some form of honorable settlement. The assassination of the Prime Minister, Canovas, led to a change of government in Spain. The former administration, pledged to subjugation without concession, gave place to that of a more liberal party, committed long in advance to a policy of reform involving the wider principle of home rule for Cuba and Puerto Rico.
The overtures of this government made through its new Envoy, General Woodford, and looking to an immediate and effective amelioration of the condition of the island, although not accepted to the extent of admitted mediation in any shape, were met by assurances that home rule, in an advanced phase, would be forthwith offered to Cuba, without waiting for the war to end, and that more humane methods should henceforth prevail in the conduct of hostilities.
American aid for the starving.
While these negotiations were in progress, the increasing destitution of the unfortunate recoucentrados and the alarming mortality among them claimed earnest attention. The success which had attended the limited measure of relief extended to the suffering American citizens among them by the judicious expenditure through the Consular agencies of the money appropriated expressly for their succor by the joint resolution approved May 24, 1897, prompted the humane extension of a similar scheme of aid to the great body of sufferers. A suggestion to this end was acquiesced in by the Spanish authorities. On the 24th of December last I caused to be issued an appeal to the American people inviting contributions in money or in kind for the succor of the starving sufferers in Cuba, followed this on the 8th of January by a similar public announcement of the formation of a Central Cuban Relief Committee, with headquarters in New York city, composed of three members representing the National Red Cross and the religious and business elements of the community.
Coincidentally with these declarations, the new Government of Spain continued to complete the policy already begun by its predecessor of testifying friendly regard for this nation by releasing American citizens held under one charge or another connected with the insurrection, so that, by the end of November, not a single person entitled in any way to our national protection remained in a Spanish prison.
The war in Cuba is of such a nature that short of subjugation or extermination a final military victory for either side seems impracticable. The alternative lies in the physical exhaustion of the one or the other party, or perhaps of both—a condition which in effect ended the Ten Years’ War by the truce of Zanjon. The prospect of such a protraction and conclusion of the present strife is a contingency hardly to be contemplated with equanimity by the civilized world, and least of all by the United States, affected and injured as we are, deeply and intimately by its very existence.
Realizing this, it appeared to be my duty in a spirit of true friendliness, no less to Spain than to the Cubans who have so much to lose by the prolongation of the struggle, to seek to bring about an immediate termination of the war. To this end I submitted on the 27th ultimo, as a result of much representation and correspondence through the United States Minister at Madrid, propositions to the Spanish Government looking to an armistice until October 1, for the negotiation of peace with the good offices of the President.
The president’s proposition to Spain.
In addition I asked the immediate revocation of the order of reconcentration so as to permit the people to return to their farms and the needy to be relieved with provisions and supplies from the United States, co-operating with the Spanish authorities so as to afford full relief.
The reply of the Spanish Cabinet was received on the night of the 31st ultimo. It offers as the means to bring about peace in Cuba, to confide the preparation thereof to the Insular Parliament, inasmuch as the concurrence of that body would be necessary to reach a final result, it being, however, understood that the powers reserved by the Constitution to the central government are not lessened or diminished. As the Cuban Parliament does not meet until the 4th of May nest, the Spanish Government would not object, for its part, to accept at once a suspension of hostilities if asked for by the insurgents from the General-in-Chief, to whom it would pertain in such a case to determine the duration and conditions of the armistice.
The propositions submitted by General Woodford and the reply of the Spanish Government were both in the form of brief memoranda, the texts of which are before me, and are substantially in the language above given.
There remain the alternative forms of intervention to end the war, either as an impartial neutral by imposing a rational compromise between the contestants, or as the active ally of one party or the other.
As to the first, it is not to be forgotten that during the last few months the relation of the United States has virtually been one of friendly intervention in many ways, each not of itself conclusive, but all tending to the exertion of a potential influence toward an ultimate pacific result just and honorable to all interests concerned. The spirit of all our acts hitherto has been an earnest, unselfish desire for peace and prosperity in Cuba, untarnished by differences between us and Spain and unstained by the blood of American citizens.
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 sacrifices of life by internecine conflicts beyond their borders, is justifiable on rational grounds. It involves, however, hostile constraint upon both the parties to the contest, as well to enforce a truce as to guide the eventual settlement.
Grounds for intervention.
The grounds for such intervention may be briefly summarized as follows:
First. In the cause of humanity and to put an end to the barbarities, bloodshed, starvation and horrible miseries now existing there, and which the parties to the conflict are either unable to or unwilling to stop or mitigate. It is no answer to say this is all in another country, belonging to another nation, and is therefore none of our business. It is specially our duty, for it is right at our door.
Second. We owe it to our citizens in Cuba to afford them that protection and indemnity for life and property which no government there can or will afford, and to that end to terminate the conditions that deprive them of legal protection.
Third. The right to intervene may be justified by the very serious injury to the commerce, trade and business of our people, and by the wanton destruction of property and devastation of the island.
Fourth. Aid which is of the utmost importance. The present condition of affairs in Cuba is a constant menace to our peace and entails upon this Government an enormous expense. With such a conflict waged for years in an island so near us, and with which our people have such trade and business relations; when the lives and liberty of our citizens are in constant danger and their property destroyed and themselves ruined; where our trading vessels are liable to seizure and are seized at our very door by warships of a foreign nation, the expeditions of filibustering that we are powerless altogether to prevent, and the irritating questions and entanglements thus arising—all these and others that I need not mention, with the resulting strained relations, are a constant menace to our peace and compel us to keep on a semi-war footing with a nation with which we are at peace.
The destruction of the Maine.
These elements of danger and disorder already pointed out have been strikingly illustrated by a tragic event which has deeply and justly moved the American people. I have already transmitted to Congress the report of the Naval Court of Inquiry on the destruction of the battleship Maine in the harbor of Havana during the night of the 15th of February. The destruction of that noble vessel has filled the national heart with inexpressible horror. Two hundred and fifty-eight brave sailors and marines and two officers of our navy, reposing in the fancied security of a friendly harbor, have been hurled to death, grief and want brought to their homes and sorrow to the nation.
The Naval Court of Inquiry, which, it is needless to say, commands the unqualified confidence of the Government, was unanimous in its conclusions that the destruction of the Maine was caused by an exterior explosion—that of a submarine mine. It did not assume to place the responsibility. That remains to be fixed.
In any event the destruction of the Maine, by whatever exterior cause, is a patent and impressive proof of a state of things in Cuba that, is intolerable. That condition is thus shown to be such that the Spanish Government cannot assure safety and security to a vessel of the American navy in the harbor of Havana on a mission of peace and rightfully there.
Further referring in this connection to recent diplomatic correspondence, a despatch from our Minister to Spain, of the 26th ultimo, contained the statement that the Spanish Minister for Foreign Affairs assured him positively that Spain would do all that the highest honor and justice required in the matter of the Maine. The reply above referred to of the 31st ultimo also contained an expression of the readiness of Spain to submit to an arbitration all the differences which can arise in this matter, which is subsequently explained by the note of the Spanish Minister at Washington of the 10th instant as follows:
As to the question of fact which springs from the diversity of views between the report of the American and Spanish boards, Spain proposes that the fact be ascertained by an impartial investigation by experts, whose decision Spain accepts in advance. To this I have made no reply.
In view of these facts and these considerations, I ask the Congress to authorize and empower the President to take measures to secure a full and final termination of hostilities between the Government of Spain and the people of Cuba, and to secure in the island the establishment of a stable government capable of maintaining order and observing its international obligations, insuring peace and tranquillity and the security of its citizens as well as our own, and to use the military and naval forces of the United States as may be necessary for these purposes.
And in the interest of humanity and to aid in preserving the lives of the starving people of the island, I recommend that the distribution of food and supplies be continued, and that an appropriation be made out of the public treasury to supplement the charity of our citizens. The issue is now with Congress. It is a solemn responsibility. I have exhausted every effort to relieve the intolerable condition of affairs which is at our doors.
Prepared to execute every obligation imposed upon me by the Constitution and the law, I await your action.
The addenda.
Yesterday, and since the preparation of the foregoing message, official information was received by me that the latest decree of the Queen Regent of Spain directs General Blanco in order to prepare and facilitate peace, to proclaim a suspension of hostilities, the duration and details of which have not yet been communicated to me. This fact, with every other pertinent consideration, will, I am sure, have your just and careful attention in the solemn deliberations upon which you are about to enter. If this measure attains a successful result, then our aspirations as a Christian, peace-loving people will be realized. If it fails, it will be only another justification for our contemplated action.
(Signed,) William McKINLEY.
Executive Mansion, April 11, 1898.
Strength of the opposing squadrons and armies.
Growth of the White Squadron in a Single Decade—Progress of Our Navy a Gratifying Ode after It Was Fairly Started—How the United States Stands in Comparison with the Other Nations of the World— List of Ships in the American Navy—List of Ships in the Navy of Spain at the Beginning of the War—Interest of All Countries Centered on the Result of Our Naval Battles—Modern Guns and Projectiles—The Armies of the Two Combatants—Coast Defenses of the United States.
Three elements enter into the fighting efficiency of nations at war: the strength of their navies, the strength of their armies and the condition of their coast defences. For the first time in many years general attention of the people of the United States was centered upon these conditions when the outbreak of hostilities began to threaten. Inasmuch as it was an admitted fact that most of the fighting would be done at sea, or at least that the efficiency of our fleets would be the most important factor, most of the attention was directed to a study of the navy.
The constructions of what we call the new navy of the United States, “the white squadron,” which has placed us sixth in the rank of the naval powers of the world, instead of so far down that we were scarcely to be counted at all, has all been done in less than twelve years. It may be that to stand sixth in rank is not yet high enough, but the progress of a single decade certainly is remarkable.
After the Civil War, when hostilities on our own coast and complications abroad seemed to be at an end, the care of the navy was abandoned and ships were sold with scarcely a protest, almost as entirely as had been done eighty years before, at the end of the Revolution. There was even less reason for this policy, because in 1785 the country was poor and needed the money the ships brought, while in the twenty years following the Civil War there was no such excuse of national poverty. By 1885 there was no United States navy at all worthy the name, for the wooden vessels on the list, with their obsolete guns, were of no value whatever in the event of hostilities with a foreign power that had kept up its equipment with rifled guns and ironclads.
The movement to repair the decay began when, in 1881, Secretary of the Navy William H. Hunt appointed the first advisory board, presided over by Rear-Admiral John Bodgers, “to determine the requirements of a new navy.” This board reported that the United States should have twenty-one battleships, seventy unarmored cruisers of various sizes and types, twenty torpedo boats, five rams and five torpedo gunboats, all to be built of steel. The report was received by Congress and the country with the attention it merited, but to get the work started was another matter.
Policy of the economists.
The economists had been praising the policy of idleness in naval construction, claiming first that we were at peace and did not need to spend money on expensive vessels and, next, that naval construction was in an experimental stage and that we should let the European nations go to the expense of the experiments, as they were doing, and when some result had been reached, take advantage of it, instead of wasting our own money in work that would have to be thrown away in a few years.
When the country became convinced that a navy was needed, it was found that we could not follow out that pleasant little theory. Our naval authorities could not obtain the facts and the experience they wanted from other nations, and our shipyards could not build even one of the armored ships. We could not roll even the thinnest of modern armor-plates, and could not make a gun that was worth mounting on a modern vessel if we had it.
The shipyard of John Roach did the first work on the new navy, and during Secretary Chandler’s term of office built the Chicago, the Boston, the Atlanta and the Dolphin. Instead of battleships, the first of the fleet were third-rate cruisers. Armor-plate was bought in a foreign market, and we actually went abroad for the plans of one our largest cruisers—the Charleston.
In 1885 the navy department came under the administration of Secretary William C. Whitney, and it was beginning with his years of service that the greatest progress was made. While our shipyards were learning to build ships, the gunmakers and the makers of armor-plate were learning their craft too, so that progress was along parallel lines. In 1886 the sum of $2,128,000 was appropriated for modern rifled guns. The first contract for armor-plate was signed in 1887. Since that time the plants for construction have been completed and armor-plate equal to the best in the world turned out from them. Ten years of apprenticeship have taught us how to build whatever we need to carry on naval warfare.
Takes the rank of sixth.
By 1894 the United States had risen to the sixth among the naval powers of the world, the first ten and their relative strength expressed in percentage of that of Great Britain being as follows:
Great Britain 100 United States 17 France 68 Spain 11 Italy 48 China 6 Russia 38 Austria 5 Germany 21 Turkey 3
Since that time the relative position of the leaders has not materially changed, although some estimates are to the effect that Russia and Italy have changed places and that Spain has gained slightly on the United States. Of the ones at the foot of the procession all have dropped below the station assigned them, by the advance of Japan, which has come from outside the file of the first ten and is now eighth, ranking between Spain and China. The estimates are based on a calculation of all the elements that enter into the efficiency of the navies, such as tonnage, speed, armor, caliber and range of armament, number of enlisted men and their efficiency. Such calculations cannot be absolute, for they cannot measure at all times the accuracy of the gunnery of a certain vessel. The human equation enters so prominently into warfare that mathematical calculations must be at all times incomplete. Americans will be slow to believe, however, that they are at any disadvantage in this detail, whatever their material equipment may be.
The following table shows the strength of the navy of the United States. In that part of the table marked “first rate” the four ships placed first are first-class battle ships, the Brooklyn and New York are armored cruisers, the Columbia, Olympia and Minneapolis protected cruisers, the Texas a second-class battle ship and the Puritan a double-turret monitor. Among the second-raters all but the Miantonomah, Amphitrite, Monadnock and Terror (monitors) are protected cruisers. The newly bought boats, New Orleans and Albany, belong in this class. The third-raters are a heterogeneous lot, consisting of cruisers, gunboats, old monitors and unprotected cruisers. Of the fourth raters, Vesuvius is a dynamite ship, the Yankee and Michigan are cruisers, the Petrel, Bancroft and Pinta are gunboats and the Fern is a transport. The remaining classes of the table are homogeneous. The government has recently purchased numerous tugs and yachts not accounted for in the table:
Name Displacement Guns in
indicated Hull
(tons)
main battery horsepower
Iowa 11,340 18
12,105 Steel
Indiana 10,288 16
9,738 Steel
Massachusetts 10,288 16
10,403 Steel
Oregon 10,288 16
11,111 Steel
Brooklyn 9,215 20
18,769 Steel
New York 8,200 18
17,401 Steel
Columbia 7,375 11
18,509 Steel
Minneapolis 7,375 11
20,862 Steel
Texas 6,315 8
8,610 Steel
Puritan 6,060 10
3,700 Iron
Olympia 5,870 14
17,313 Steel
Name Displacement Guns in
indicated Hull
(tons)
main battery horsepower
Chicago 4,500 18
9,000 Steel
Baltimore 4,413 10
10,064 Steel
Philadelphia 4,324 12
8,815 Steel
Monterey 4,084 4
5,244 Steel
Newark 4,098 12
8,869 Steel
San Francisco 4,098 12
9,913 Steel
Charleston 3,730 8
6,666 Steel
Miantonomah 3,990 4
1,426 Iron
Amphitrite 3,990 6
1,600 Iron
Monadnock 3,990 6
3,000 Iron
Terror 3,990 4
1,600 Iron
Name Displacement Guns in
indicated Hull
(tons)
main battery horsepower
Hartford 2,790 13
2,000 Wood
Katahdin 2,155 4
5,068 Steel
Ajax 2,100 2
340 Iron
Canonicus 2,100 2
340 Iron
Mahopac 2,100 2
340 Iron
Manhattan 2,100 2
340 Iron
Wyandotte 2,100 2
340 Iron
Detroit 2,089 10
5,227 Steel
Montgomery 2,089 10
5,580 Steel
Marblehead 2,089 10
5,451 Steel
Marion 1,900 8
1,100 Wood
Mohican 1,900 10
1,100 Wood
Comanche 1,873 2
340 Iron
Catskill 1,875 2
340 Iron
Jason 1,875 2
340 Iron
Lehigh 1,875 2
340 Iron
Montauk 1,875 2
340 Iron
Nahant 1,875 2
340 Iron
Nantucket 1,875 2
340 Iron
Passaic 1,875 2
340 Iron
Bennington 1,710 6
3,436 Steel
Concord 1,710 6
3,405 Steel
Yorktown 1,710 6
3,392 Steel
Dolphin 1,486 2
2,253 Steel
Wilmington 1,392 8
1,894 Steel
Helena 1,392 8
1,988 Steel
Adams 1,375 6
800 Wood
Alliance 1,375 6
800 Wood
Essex 1,375 6
800 Wood
Enterprise 1,375 4
800 Wood
Nashville 1,371 8
2,536 Steel
Monocacy 1,370 6
850 Iron
Thetis 1,250 0
530 Wood
Castine 1,177 8
2,199 Steel
Machias 1,177 8
Name Displacement Guns in
indicated Hull
(tons)
main battery horsepower
Vesuvius 929 3
3,795 Steel
Yantic 900 4
310 Wood
Petrel 892 4
1,095 Steel
Fern 840 0
0 Wood
Bancroft 839 4
1,213 Steel
Michigan 685 4
365 Iron
Pinta 550 2
310 Iron
Name Displacement Guns in
indicated Hull
(tons)
main battery horsepower
1-Gushing 105 3 1,720 Steel 2-Ericsson 120 3 1,800 Steel 3-Foote 142 3 2,000 Steel 4-Rodgers 142 3 2,000 Steel 5-Winslow 142 3 2,000 Steel 6-Porter 0 3 0 Steel 7-Du Pont 0 3 0 Steel 8-Rowan 182 3 3,200 Steel 9-Dahlgren 146 2 4,200 Steel 10-T. A. M. Craven 146 2 4,200 Steel 1l-Farragut 273 2 5,600 Steel 12-Davis 132 3 1,750 Steel 13_Fox 132 3 1,750 Steel 14-Morris 103 3 1,750 Steel 15-Talbot 46 1/2 2 850 Steel 16-Gwin 46 1/2 2 850 Steel 17-Mackenzie 65 2 850 Steel 18-McKee 65 2 850 Steel 19-Stringham 340 2 7,200 Steel 20-Goldsborough 247 1/2 2 0 Steel 2l-Bailey 235 2 5,600 Steel Stiletto 31 2 359 Wood
Name Displacement Guns in
indicated Hull
(tons)
main battery horsepower
Fortune 450 0
340 Iron
Iwana. 192 0
300 Steel
Leyden 450 0
340 Iron
Narkeeta 192 0
300 Steel
Nina 357 0
388 Iron
Rocket 187 0
147 Wood
Standish 450 1
340 Iron
Traffic 280 0
0 Wood
Triton 212 0
300 Steel
Waneta 192 0
300 Steel
Unadilla 345 0
500 Steel
Samoset 225 0
450 Steel
Name Displacement Guns in
indicated Hull
(tons)
main battery horsepower
Monongahela 2,100 4
0 Wood
Constellation 1,186 8
0 Wood
Jamestown 1,150 0
0 Wood
Portsmouth 1,125 12
0 Wood
Saratoga 1,025 0
0 Wood
St. Mary’s. 1,025 0
0 Wood
Name Displacement Guns in
indicated Hull
(tons)
main battery horsepower
Franklin 5,170 4
1,050 Wood
Wabash 4,650 0
950 Wood
Vermont 4,150 0
0 Wood
Independence 3,270 .6
0 Wood
Richmond 2,700 .2
692 Wood
Name Displacement Guns in
indicated Hull
(tons)
main battery horsepower
New Hampshire 4,150 .6
0 Wood
Pensacola 3,000 0
680 Wood
Omaha. 2,400 0
953 Wood
Constitution 2,200 4
0 Wood
Iroquois 1,575 0
1,202 Wood
Nipsic 1,375 4
839 Wood
St. Louis 830 0
0 Wood
Dale. 675 0
0 Wood
Minnesota 4,700 9
1,000 Wood
Name Displacement Guns in
indicated Hull
(tons)
main battery horsepower
Kearsarge 11,525 22
10,000 Steel
Kentucky 11,525 22
10,000 Steel
Illinois 11,525 18
10,000 Steel
Alabama 11,525 18
10,000 Steel
Wisconsin 11,525 18
10,000 Steel
Princeton 1,000 6
800 Comp
Plunger 168 2
1,200 Steel
Tug No. 6 225 0
450 Steel
Tug No. 7 225 0
450 Steel
Training ship. 1,175 6
0 Comp
Spain’s navy is A weaker one.
Spain’s navy is decidedly weak when compared with that of the United States. A mere glance at the two tables will be sufficient to show the difference. Spain’s list of unarmored cruisers is long, but four of our battle ships or swift, modern, armored cruisers could blow the lot out of the water. In torpedo boats we compare favorably with Spain. In one respect Spain is stronger, that is in her six speedy torpedo boat destroyers. This table accounts for every war ship Spain has, to say nothing of the few antique merchantmen of the Spanish liner company which can be turned into cruisers.
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
Pelayo 9,900 22 17.0
Steel
Vitoria (inefficient)7,250 0 11.0
Iron
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
Numancia 7,250 10 11.0 Iron
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
Carlos V 9,235 28 20.0
Steel
Cisneros 7,000 24 20.0
Steel
Cataluna 7,000 24 20.0
Steel
Princess Asturias 7,000 24 20.0
Steel
Almirante Oquendo 7,000 30 20.0
Steel
Maria Teresa 7,000 30 20.0
Steel
Vizcaya 7,000 30 20.0
Steel
Cristobal Colon 6,840 40 20.0
Steel
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
Alfonso XII 5,000 19 20.0
Steel
Lepanto 4,826 25 20.0
Steel
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
Reina Christina 3,520 21 17.5
Steel
Aragon 3,342 24 17.5
Steel
Cartilla 3,342 22 17.5
Steel
Navarra 3,342 16 17.5
Steel
Alfonso XII 3,090 23 17.5
Steel
Reina Mercedes 3,090 21 17.5
Steel
Velasco 1,152 7 14.3
Steel
C. de Venadito 1,130 13 14.0
Steel
Ulloa 1,130 12 14.0
Steel
Austria 1,130 12 14.0
Steel
Isabel 1,130 15 14.0
Steel
Isabel II 1,130 16 14.0
Steel
Isla de Cuba 1,030 12 16.0
Steel
Isla de Luzon 1,030 12 16.0
Steel
Ensenada 1,030 13 15.0
Steel
Quiros 315 0 0
Iron
Villabolas 315 0 0
Iron
—— 935
5 0 Wood
Torpedo boats. [Footnote: Armed with two and four torpedo tubes, six quick fire and two machine guns.]
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
Alvaro de Bezan 830 0 20.0
Steel
Maria Molina 830 0 20.0
Steel
Destructor 458 0 20.0
Steel
Filipinas 750 0 20.0
Steel
Galicia 571 0 20.0
Steel
Marques Vitoria 830 0 20.0
Steel
Marques Molina 571 0 20.0
Steel
Pinzon 571 0 20.0
Steel
Nueva Espana 630 0 20.0
Steel
Rapido 570 0 20.0
Steel
Temerario 590 0 20.0
Steel
Yanez Pinzon 571 0 20.0
Steel
GUNBOATS. [Footnote: There are eighteen others of smaller size, which with the above were built for service in Cuban waters, and are now there.]
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
Hernon Cortes 300 1 12.0
Steel
Pizarro 300 2 12.0
Steel
Nunez Balboa 300 1 12.5
Steel
Diego Velasquez 200 3 12.0
Steel
Ponce de Leon 200 3 12.0
Steel
Alvarado 100 2 12.0
Steel
Sandoval 100 2 12.0
Steel
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
Audaz 400 6 30.0
Steel
Furor 380 6 28.0
Steel
Terror 380 6 28.0
Steel
Osada 380 6 28.0
Steel
Pluton 380 6 28.0
Steel
Prosperina 380 6 28.0
Steel
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
Ariete 0 0 26.1
Steel
Rayo 0 0 25.5
Steel
Azor 0 0 24.0
Steel
Halcon 0 0 24.0
Steel
Habana 0 0 21.3
Steel
Barcelo 0 0 19.5
Steel
Orion 0 0 21.5
Steel
Retamosa 0 0 20.5
Steel
Ordonez 0 0 20.1
Steel
Ejercito 0 0 19.1
Steel
Pollux 0 0 19.5
Steel
Castor 0 0 19.0
Steel
Aire 0 0 8.0
Steel
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
General Concha 520 0 0
Steel
Elcano 524 0 0
Steel
General Lego 524 0 0
Steel
Magellanes 524 0 0
Steel
(Battle ship.)
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
—— 10,000 0 0 Steel
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
—— 10,500 0 0 Steel Pedro d’Aragon 6,840 0 0 Steel
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
Reina Regente 5,372 0 0
Steel
Rio de la Plata 1,775 0 0
Steel
Five of Ariete type and one of 750 tons.
Name. Tonnage. Guns
in Speed in Hull.
Batteries.
knots/hour.
Magellanes 6,932 0 17.0
Steel
Buenos Aires 5,195 0 14.0
Steel
Montevideo 5,096 0 14.5
Steel
Alfonso XII 5,063 0 15.0
Steel
Leon XIII 4,687 0 15.0
Steel
Satrustegui 4,638 0 15.0
Steel
Alfonso XIII 4,381 0 16.0
Steel
Maria Cristina 4,381 0 16.0
Steel
Luzon 4,252 0 13.0
Steel
Mindanao 4,195 0 13.5
Steel
Isla de Panay 3,636 0 13.5
Steel
Cataluna 3,488 0 14.0
Steel
City of Cadiz 3,084 0 13.5
Steel
The puzzle that was troubling every naval authority as well as every statesman in the civilized world, at the outbreak of the war between the United States and Spain, was what would be the results of a conflict at sea between the floating fortresses which now serve as battle-ships. Since navies reached their modern form there had been no war in which the test of the battle-ship was complete. Lessons might be learned and opinions formed and prophesies made from the action of battle-ships in the war between China and Japan, the war between Chili and Peru, and from the disasters which had overtaken the Maine in the harbor of Havana and the Victoria in her collision with the Camperdown, as well as the wreck of the Reina Regente and others. But in all these, combine the information as one might, there was insufficient testimony to prove what would happen if two powers of nearly equal strength were to meet for a fight to a finish.
Whatever was uncertain, it was known at least that there would be no more sea fights like those of the last century and the first half of this, when three-deck frigates and seventy-four-gun men-of-war were lashed together, while their crews fought with small arms and cutlasses for hours. Those were the days when “hearts of oak” and “the wooden walls of England” made what romance there was in naval warfare, and the ships of the young United States won respect on every sea. In the fights of those days the vessels would float till they were shot to pieces, and with the stimulus of close fighting the men were ready to brave any odds in boarding an enemy’s craft. It was well understood that the changed conditions would make very different battles between the fighting machines of to-day.
That a naval battle between modern fleets, armed with modern guns, would be a terribly destructive one both to the ships and to the lives of those who manned them, was conceded by all naval authorities. The destructiveness would come not only from the tremendous power and effectiveness of the guns, but also from the fact that the shell had replaced the solid shot in all calibers down to the one-pounder, so that to the penetrating effect of the projectile was added its explosive power and the scattering of its fragments in a destructive and death-dealing circle many feet in diameter.
Modern guns and projectiles.
The modern armor-piercing shell, made of hardened steel, and with its conical point carefully fashioned for the greatest penetrating power, has all the armor-piercing effectiveness of a solid shot of the same shape, while its explosiveness makes it infinitely more destructive. For the modern shell does not explode when it first strikes the side or armor of an enemy’s ship, but after it has pierced the side or armor and has exhausted its penetrative effect. The percussion fuse is in the base of the shell, and is exploded by a plunger driven against it by the force of the impact of the shell on striking. The time between the impact of the shell and its explosion is sufficient for it to have done its full penetrative work.
It first must be understood that all modern guns on ships-of-war are breech-loading and rifled, and that the smooth bore exists only as a relic, or to be brought out in an emergency for coast defense, when modern guns are not available. From the thirteen-inch down to the four-inch, the guns are designated by their caliber, the diameter of their bore, and the shot they throw, while from that to the one-pounder they take their name from the weight of the shot. Everything below the one-pounder is in the machine-gun class.
The base of rapid-fire work is the bringing together in one cartridge of the primer, powder, and shell. When the limit of weight of cartridge, easily handled by one man, is reached, the limit of rapid-fire action is also reached; and, although the quick-moving breech mechanisms have been applied abroad to guns of as large as eight-inch caliber, such guns would rank as quick, rather than rapid firing, and would require powder and shot to be loaded separately.
On the modern battleships the function of the great guns is the penetration of the enemy’s armor, either at the waterline belt or on the turrets and gun positions, while that of the rapid-firers is the destruction of the unarmored parts or the disabling of the guns not armor protected. The six, three, and one-pounders direct their rain of shots at the turret portholes, gun shields, or unprotected parts of the ship, having also an eye to torpedo-boats, while from the fighting tops, the Gatlings rain a thousand shots a minute on any of the crew in exposed positions. With such a storm of large and small projectiles it would seem to be rather a question of who would be left alive rather than who would be killed.
The guns in use in the United States navy are the 13-inch, 12- inch, 10-inch, 8-inch, 6-inch, 5-inch, 4-inch, 6-pounders, 3- pounders, 1-pounder, Hotchkiss 37 mm. revolver cannon, and the machine guns. In the following table is given the length and weight of these guns, as well as of the shell they carry:
Length Powder weight of gun, charge, of shell, guns. feet. pounds. pounds.
One-pounder 5.1 .3
1
Three-pounder 7.3 1.7
3
Six-pounder 8.9 3.0
6
Fourteen-pounder 11.6 8.0
14
Four-inch 13.7 14.0
33
Five-inch 17.4 30.0
50
Six-inch 21.3 50.0
100
Eight-inch 28.7 115.0
250
Ten-inch 31.2 240.0
500
Twelve-inch 36.8 425.0
850
Thirteen-inch 40.0 550.0
1,100
The 14-pounder, although not included in the navy armament, is given for the purpose of comparison, since it is with guns of this caliber that some of the Spanish torpedo-boat destroyers are armed. The largest gun as yet mounted on our largest torpedo-boats is the 6-pounder, while a single 1-pounder is the gun armament of the ordinary torpedo-boat. The Hotchkiss revolver cannon is not given in the table because its caliber, etc., is the same as that of the 1-pounder, and, in fact, the latter has superseded it in the latest armaments, so that it is now found only on the older ships of the modern fleet. The machine guns are not given because their effective work is practically the same. The Gatling is of 45-caliber, and uses the government ammunition for the Springfield rifle.
A look over the table shows some general principles in the matter of powder and shell used. The powder charge is about half the weight of the shell, while the length of the shell is a little over three times its diameter.
To attain its extreme range a gun must be given an elevation of about fifteen degrees. The greatest elevation given any of the guns on shipboard is about six degrees. This limit is made by two factors—the size of the portholes or opening in the turrets for the larger guns, and the danger of driving the gun backward and downward through the deck by any greater elevation. The practical range of the great guns of a ship, the ten, twelve, and thirteen-inch, is not, therefore, believed to be over five or six miles, and even at that range the chances of hitting a given object would be very small. A city could, of course, be bombarded with, effect at such a range, since a shell would do tremendous damage wherever it might strike, but a city to which a ship could approach no nearer than say seven miles would be safe from bombardment.
The muzzle velocities given the shells from the guns of the navy are something tremendous, while the muzzle energy is simply appalling. The shell from the thirteen-inch gun leaves the muzzle at a velocity of 2,100 feet a second, and with an energy of 33,627-foot tons, or the power required to lift one ton one foot. From this velocity the range is to 1,800 feet a second in the one-pounder, although from the three-pounder at 2,050 feet it averages about the same as the thirteen-inch. The five-inch rapid-fire gun has the greatest muzzle velocity at 2,250 feet. The muzzle energy is, of course, small in the smaller guns, being only twenty-five-foot tons in the one-pounder and 500 tons in the fourteen-pounder.
The power of penetration has already been given in a general way, but the power of penetration of steel is much greater. At its muzzle velocity the thirteen-inch shell will penetrate 26.66 inches of steel, the twelve-inch, 24.16 inches; the ten-inch, 20 inches, and the five-inch, 9 inches. The one-pound shell bursts in piercing one-fourth and nine-sixteenths-inch plates, scattering its fragments behind the target.
It may be interesting to note that the cost of one discharge of a thirteen-inch gun is $800, and that when a battleship like the Massachusetts lets loose her entire battery, both main and secondary, the cost of a single discharge is $6,000.
Battleships and troops begin to move.
The North Atlantic Squadron Sent to Key West—Commodore Schley at Hampton Roads—The Voyage of the Oregon—The Camp at Chickamauga— Where the Initial Work of Mobilizing the Troops Was Done—Life at Camp Thomas—Life on the Famous Battle Field—Rendezvous at Fort Tampa—The Great Artillery Camp.
Immediately following the action of Congress authorizing the President to call into service the army and navy of the United States, the North Atlantic squadron, under command of Captain Sampson, was mobilized at Key West. It consisted of the following vessels: Battleships Iowa and Indiana, armored cruiser New York, the monitors Puritan, Terror and Amphitrite, the gunboats Nashville, Castine, Machias, Wilmington and Helena, the cruisers Detroit, Cincinnati and Marblehead, and the torpedo-boats Cushing, Ericsson, Dupont, Foote, Winslow, Porter and Mayflower.
These comprised a hard fighting aggregation under a cool and daring fighter. The two first-class battleships were not equaled in fighting power by anything in the Spanish navy, and the New York was one of the best fighting ships of her kind in the world.
Commodore Winfield Scott Schley and the fighters of his flying squadron were gathered at Hampton Roads, impatient for orders from Washington to face the foe. Far away in Pacific waters Commodore Dewey was cabled the command to hold himself in readiness to proceed to Manila, and the good ship Oregon, under command of Captain Clarke, was steaming her way around Cape Horn to join the fleet in Cuban waters.
In the army equal activity was shown.
The camp at Chickamauga.
Chickamauga Park, near Chattanooga, Tenn., was the point of concentration for the regular troops which were gathered for the war with Spain. It was the initial camp where the mobilization took place, and from which soldiers and supplies were dispatched to seacoast towns within easy striking distance of Cuba. When orders went out from army headquarters at Washington for the movement of the regulars to Chickamauga a thrill of soldierly pride swelled the breast of every man who wore Uncle Sam’s blue uniform, and there was a hasty dash for the new camp. There is nothing an army man, officer or private, dislikes so much as inactivity. Fighting, especially against a foreign foe, suits him better than dawdling away his time in idleness, and word to “get to the front” is always welcome.
For nearly three weeks troops poured into Chickamauga on every train. They came from all parts of the country, and from every regiment and branch of the service. There were “dough-boys” and cavalry-men, engineers and artillerymen; some regiments were there in force, others were represented by detachments only. There were companies and parts of companies, squadrons and parts of squadrons, batteries and parts of batteries. It was a bringing together of Uncle Sam’s soldier boys from all conceivable sections of the country. They came from posts in California and Texas, from Wyoming and Maine, from Colorado and Minnesota. In time of peace the regular army is badly scattered. It is seldom that an entire regiment is stationed at one post, the companies being distributed over a wide area of territory. A mobilization, therefore, like that at Chickamauga, tended to consolidate and put new life into commands which had been badly dismembered by the exigencies of the service. Old comrades were brought together and there was a sort of general reunion and glorification. Men who had been doing police duty near big cities met those who had been watching Indians on the plains, or chasing greaser bandits on the border line. They exchanged stories and prepared for the stern realities of war with a vigor which boded ill for the foe they were to face.
Uncle Sam’s soldier is a great grumbler when in idleness. He finds fault with his officers, his food, his quarters, his clothing, his pay, and even with himself. Nothing pleases him. He records big, sonorous oaths about his idiocy in swearing away his liberty for a term of years. But let the alarm of war sound, show him active preparations for a scrimmage with the enemy, and the “regular” is happy. This was the condition which prevailed at Chickamauga. The men were full of enthusiasm and worked as hard as the proverbial beavers. Drills once distasteful and shirked whenever possible were gone through with alacrity and the “boy in blue” was a true soldier, every inch of him. There was war in sight.
Life at camp Thomas.
On one point at least there was an accord of opinion in rank and file—the camp was well named. “Camp George H. Thomas” they called it, in memory of old “Pap,” the hero of Chickamauga, and men and officers alike took a very visible pride in being residents of the tented city. The establishment of the community at Camp Thomas was much like the establishment of a colony in an unsettled land, in so far as domestic conveniences were concerned. Everything had to be taken there, and each regiment, which was a small canvas town in itself, had to depend entirely upon its own resources. Dotted here and there throughout the entire expanse of the fifteen-mile reservation, these cities of tents were seen, and the brave men who lived in them depended upon themselves and each other for what little entertainment they got. A description of the quarters of one officer will serve for all. An “A,” or wall tent, 10 by 12 feet, and some of them a size smaller, was his house. On one side a folding camp cot, with a thin yet comfortable mattress and an abundance of heavy, woolen army blankets. A table about twenty inches square, with legs that fold up into the smallest possible space, stood near the door at the foot of the cot. A folding chair or two for his visitors, a large valise or a very small trunk, a bit of looking glass hanging from a tent pole, a tubular lantern, or, if the tenant of the tent was not so fortunate as to possess such a modern light, then a candle attached to a stick in the ground beside his bed. Tie strings attached to the rear wall of the tent afforded a hanging place for “his other shirt” and a pair of extra shoes. His leggings and boots were on his feet, and his belt, pistol and saber stood in a corner. A pad of writing paper, pocket inkstand, a razor strop, unless he had foresworn shaving, a briar or corn-cob pipe, and a bag of tobacco completed the furnishings of his house. Commanding officers, at regimental headquarters, had an extra roof, or “tent fly,” as an awning in front of their quarters, but otherwise lived as other officers did.
The enlisted men, quartered in the conical wall tents now adopted by the army, bunked with heads to the wall and feet toward the center, from nine to twelve in a tent Their bedding and blankets were good and they were as comfortable as soldiers could hope to be in the field. Some of the regiments from the remote Northwest had the Sibley conical tent, which has no wall, but which has a small sheet iron stove. These were more than appreciated during the cold, rainy weather that prevailed at Camp Thomas.
The mess tents and cookhouses are about alike in all the arms of the service. The “cuddy-bunk” oven, made of sheet, iron, bakes well and looks like two iron pans fastened together, one upon the top of the other. Men detailed as cooks and waiters, or “kitchen police,” as they are denominated in the posts, attended to the preparation and serving of the meals, and the soldiers lived well, indeed. Field rations were used when in transit from point to point, but when in camp the company or troop mess purchased fresh meats, vegetables, eggs, fruits, etc., and lived high.
Rendezvous at fort Tampa.
Twenty-eight batteries of artillery, almost the entire complement of this branch of the United States army, were in camp at Port Tampa, Fla., awaiting orders to make a descent upon the Spanish forces in Cuba. This great gathering of artillery was the feature of the camp. Infantry and cavalry troops were held there also, and their number increased every day, but it was in the artillery that the civilian spectators took the most interest. This may be said without disparagement of the “dough boys” and “hostlers,” notwithstanding the fact that there were some of Uncle Sam’s most famous fighters in both lines of service stationed at Tampa, among them being the Ninth cavalry, and the Fourth, Fifth, Ninth, Thirteenth and Twenty-fourth infantry. No cavalry regiment has a finer record than the Ninth, the “buffalo” troopers, who gave the Sioux and Apaches more fighting than they wanted, but Southern people have no use for negro soldiers, and their laudations went to the white artillerymen.
No such aggregation of light and heavy artillery has been gathered before at any one city in the United States, even in war time.
Life in camp at Tampa was much the same as at Chickaanauga, except that the weather was much hotter. To offset this, however, the boys had fine sea bathing, good opportunities for sailing parties, and the best of fresh fish with which to leaven their rations of salt horse and hardtack. It is astonishing how quickly a man learns to forage and cook after joining the regular army. Three months of service will transform the greenest of counter-jumpers into an expert in the art of enticing chickens from their coops and turning them into savory stews. One of the troopers of the Ninth cavalry was called “Chickens,” from his predilections in this line. There were orders against foraging, of course; there always are in friendly territory, but they never amount to much. The officers knew they were disobeyed, but they winked the other eye and said nothing. It is hinted that in this course may be often found an explanation of the lavishness with which the officers’ mess is served. One night Major—was smoking a nightcap cigar just outside his tent, when he caught sight of “Chickens” stealing past in the shade of the trees. “Chickens” of course was halted and asked why he was prowling around at that time of night. Before the culprit could frame an excuse the Major noticed a suspicious bulging of the front of the trooper’s blouse, and an uneasy, twisting motion within. It was plain to him that “Chickens” had been foraging, and was getting back into quarters with his plunder.
“Been foraging, hey?” said the Major. “Don’t you know it’s against orders?”
“Chickens” stammered out a denial, when the Major, making a sudden grab at the front of his blouse, tore it open, and out fell two plump pullets.
“Stealing hens, hey?” said the Major. “You’ll go to the clink for this.”
“Ah didn’t dun steal ’em, Majah,” said “Chickens,” with brazen effrontery. “Ah ’clar to goodness Ah didn’t know dem pullets was dar. Mus’ have crawled into mah blous t’ keep wahm, Majah.”
The reply tickled the veteran so much that he let “Chickens” pass, and the next morning there was one officer at the post who had stewed pullet for breakfast.
One of the most famous regiments of infantry at Tampa was the Thirteenth. It has the well-earned reputation of being a good fighting body. Some of the most distinguished officers of the army have been on its rolls in time past, among them Sherman and Sheridan. The history of the Thirteenth goes back to May 14, 1861, when President Lincoln directed its organization. The first colonel was William T. Sherman, who re-entered the army after a number of years engaged in banking and the practice of law. C. C. Augur was one of the majors, and Philip H. Sheridan was a captain. Sheridan joined the regiment in November, 1861, but was soon appointed chief commissary and quartermaster to the Army of Southwest Missouri, which practically severed his connection with the regiment.
In 1862 the first battalion of the regiment entered on active service in the Mississippi valley. It engaged in the Yazoo expedition under Sherman, who was by that time a major-general of volunteers, and took part later in Grant’s operations around Vicksburg. The battalion won for its colors the proud inscription, “First Honor at Vicksburg,” and lost 43.3 per cent of its force in the attack on the Confederates. Among the dead was its then commander, who died on the parapet. Sherman’s nine-year-old son, Willie, who was with his father at Vicksburg, was playfully christened a “sergeant” of the Thirteenth battalion, and his death of fever in October, 1863, called forth a sorrowful letter from General Sherman to the commander of the Thirteenth. “Please convey to the battalion my heartfelt thanks,” he wrote, “and assure each and all that if in after years they call on me or mine, and mention that they were of the Thirteenth regulars when Willie was a sergeant, they will have a key to the affections of my family that will open all it has; that we will share with them our last blanket, our last crust!”
After the war the regiment was transferred to the West. It was employed in Kansas, Montana, Dakota, Utah, Wyoming and elsewhere until 1874, for a large part of the time serving almost continuously against hostile Indians. In 1874 it was moved to New Orleans, and was engaged on duty in the Department of the South for six years. During the labor riots of 1877 all but two companies were on duty at Pittsburg, Scranton, Wilkesbarre and other points in Pennsylvania. Then back to the West it went again, and, with some slight vacations, remained on the frontier until October, 1894, when it was transferred to various posts in New York State.
Diplomatic relations terminate.
Grave Responsibilities Bravely Met—The Ultimatum to Spain—The Spanish Minister of Foreign Affairs Sends Minister Woodford His Transports—Our Consuls in Cuba Leave the Island—Fate of Americans Left Behind—Spanish Spies at Work—Playing a Desperate Game.
None but those who were close to the men at the head of our Government just prior to the commencement of the war with Spain can realize with what solicitude they watched the development of the preliminary proceedings.
With full appreciation of their grave responsibilities, knowing the power inherent in their positions to effect results, and yet cognizant as the days went by of their inability to prevent the fulfillment of fate, they endeavored to guide events so far as they could in a course which will hold them and the people blameless in the sight of the world for whatever might follow. That they withstood the strain so well bears testimony to their mental poise and strength of character.
The President’s demeanor underwent a noticeable change. The affable, cheery mood which formerly characterized him, gave way to a sternness of manner which befits a humane but just judge called upon to execute a righteous sentence. A curious illustration of Mr. McKinley’s temperament was shown in the difference in his bearing after the passage of the resolutions which made war inevitable. So long as there was the slightest chance for peace the pressure of uncertainty bore heavily upon him, and his face assumed a wan and haggard look. That look did not entirely disappear, but it was no longer marked by anxiety. From the moment the decision was reached which imposed upon him the leadership of a nation at war, he seemed to have experienced a sense of relief, for he saw his pathway straight before him, no matter how rough it might be.
Immediately after signing the resolutions declaring for intervention by our Government, the President sent an ultimatum to Spain, quoting the act of Congress, and notifying her that her army and navy must be withdrawn from Cuba by noon of April 23.
The Spanish Minister, Polo y Bernabe, at once applied for his passports, and left the country. The Spanish Government, without waiting for Minister Woodford to deliver the ultimatum of the United States Government, sent him his transports, thus taking the initiative and practically declaring war against this government. The official notification to General Woodford, from the Spanish Minister of Foreign Affairs, was as follows:
Dear Sir:
In compliance with a painful duty, I have the honor to inform you that there has been sanctioned by the President of the Republic a resolution of both chambers of the United States which denies the legitimate sovereignty of Spain, and threatens immediate armed intervention in Cuba, which is equivalent to a declaration of war.
The Government of Her Majesty has ordered her Minister at Washington to retire without loss of time from the territory of North America with all of the personality of the Legation. By this act the diplomatic relations which formerly existed between the two countries, and all official communications between their respective representatives cease. I am obliged to inform you, so that on your part you can make such arrangements as you believe convenient.
I beg that at a suitable time Your Excellency will acknowledge receipt of this and take this opportunity to reiterate the assurance of my most distinguished consideration.
Pio Gullon.
General Woodford then turned over the Legation to the care of the British Government, and ordered all American Consuls in Spain to cease their offices and leave the country at once. He then made his own preparations to leave and started for Paris without delay.
Consuls in Cuba leave the island.
Anticipating the action taken by Congress, a peculiar form of notice had been agreed upon between Consul-General Lee and the Consuls some weeks previously. The telegram notifying them to leave the island was to be in these words: “Appropriation for relief of American citizens is exhausted.” This form was devised for a reason which had its bearing upon the unhappy fate of the Americans left on the island. Spaniards of the vindictive class never got over the action of the United States in undertaking the support of its citizens in Cuba. That action was in striking contrast “with the course of the Spanish Government. The Spaniards lost no opportunity to show their resentment toward the Americans. When local measures of relief were planned, the Americans were taunted, and told to look to the United States for help and protection. The charity extended by the United States brought upon the beneficiaries persecution at the hands of the Spaniards. General Lee, realizing the strength of this unworthy sentiment, thought that a message in the language quoted would be so grateful to Spanish eyes that it would be put through to the Consuls without delay. He was right about that. The government attempted to make provision for the removal of the Americans on the island at the same time that the Consuls were notified to withdraw. Results showed that only a comparatively small number availed themselves of the opportunities to go. A ship made its way along the south coast of Cuba and removed from Santiago, Manzanillo and Cienfuegos between 200 and 300 refugees, conveying them to Jamaica. This was hardly one-half. From the northern coast the number taken off the island was much smaller. At Havana there were on the rolls of the Consulate over 600 Americans, of whom perhaps 200 elected to take passage on the ships sent by the United States. At Matanzas, Consul Brice had about 400 Americans. Consul Barker, at Sagua,
Spanish spies at work.
Just prior to the breaking out of actual hostilities between this country and Spain the military attache of the Spanish legation at Washington was compelled to leave this country, because it was known he had been seeking to learn certain facts relative to the strength of our forts and their defensive equipment. This man was Lieutenant Sobral, and in plain and uncompromising English, he was a spy, or member of the Spanish secret service, which implies the same thing.
Before he left this country he had been ejected from several forts along the South Atlantic coast, where he had been found endeavoring to gain access to those mysteries which no man, unless he wears the blue of the United States army, can righteously know aught of, even in times of peace. This was the first intimation this country had that Spain would introduce here the same system of espionage she employs at home. Following Sobrap’s expulsion from the country came the knowledge that Spanish spies were working in Washington, watching every move made there; that they swarmed in Key West and in New York city, where they maintained a strict surveillance over the members of the Cuban Junta.
Many of these spies were American citizens, or at least nominally so, for their work was done under the direction of a well-known detective agency, acting, of course, with the Spanish representatives here. These men were principally engaged in preventing the shipment of stores and arms to Cuba. At one time it was impossible to enter or leave the building where the Junta had its headquarters without observing one or more men hanging about the place, apparently with nothing to do and making a vain effort to do it as gracefully as possible. These were thrilling times in the annals of the Junta, when Rubens, Palma and Captain O’Brien were regularly followed to and from their homes to their headquarters. These were good times, too, for the American detective agency. But all this was mere clumsy work, more of an annoyance than anything else, and scarcely any hindrance to the shipping of arms and stores when the Junta was fortunate enough to have the arms and stores to ship.
But after the declaration of war, the spy question assumed an aspect as serious as it was unlocked for. Spain worked silently, secretly and through one of the best-handled branches of her government and with all the Latins’ natural love of intrigue. She no longer paid much heed to Palma or Rubens, or to Captain O’Brien. She was playing a bigger game. American detectives no longer represented her interests here—an impossibility under existing conditions, of course. Under Polo was established a most complete department of espionage, which he controlled from the refuge Canada offered him.
The gathering together of information and those facts which usually concern the operation of secret service of civilized countries seemed to be a side issue with this particular department. The scope of its operations was along different lines from those usually followed by the mere spy.
Polo’s intention appeared to be to carry the war into America in a new and startling manner—startling, because his movements could not be seen or foretold until the blow was struck. He made use of the corps under his control to place the bomb of the anarchist and apply the torch of the incendiary under our arsenals and to those buildings where the government stored its supplies for the army and navy.
For a time he was successful in his cowardly scheming and his emissaries celebrated his success with many tons of good American gunpowder, and at the cost of some good American lives. Bombs were found in the coal reserved for use aboard our men-of-war. They were even taken from the coal bunkers of our ships and they were found in certain of the government buildings at Washington. Indeed, the situation became so serious that finally strangers were not allowed to visit a man-of-war or enter a fort.
It must be remembered that there are in America thousands of Spaniards who, unless they commit some overt act of violence, can enjoy all the privileges accorded to a citizen. This, together with our mixed population, in many quarters made up largely of the peoples of Southern Europe, all more or less of one type, all speaking languages which, to untrained ears at least, are almost identical one with the other, gave the Spanish spy in America a protection and freedom from suspicion and surveillance he would hardly meet with in any other country, and which, by the inverse, offered no opportunity for the American spy in Spain, had we chosen to make use of the same methods.
Playing A desperate game.
These Spaniards were playing a desperate game, however. It was literally at the peril of their necks, for should a man be apprehended, there would be no possibility of escaping the ignominious death that usually awaits on such services. Sobral was allowed to go, though there was no question but that his conduct was so incriminating that he was liable to arrest, trial, and, if convicted, death, had this country cared to hold him. His fate abroad would be easy to foretell. His guilt was almost as great as that which brought Major Andre to his death in the times of the Revolution.
First guns and first prizes of the war.
Capture of the LaFayette—The Government Orders Her Release— Towing Prizes Into Key West—The Spanish Set a Trap—The Vicksburg and the Morrill Take the Bait—The Spanish Gunners Poor Marksmen— Another Narrow Escape.
Shortly after the proclamation of the blockade of Cuban ports a capture was made which threatened international complications. The French mail steamer LaFayette was held up almost under the guns of Morro Castle.
The Annapolis hailed her in the harbor offing and receiving no answer but a show of the French tricolor plumped a six-pounder across her bows and brought her up standing.
Prayers and tears in staterooms.
Of the 161 cabin passengers on the steamer eighty were women and children. They locked themselves in the staterooms when the warning shot was fired and the Annapolis and Wilmington approached, and gave themselves up to prayers and tears.
Most of the passengers were Spaniards or Cubans, and there were a few Mexicans. Nearly all were bound for Havana.
The steamer was filled to the hatches with medicines, provisions, wines and cotton goods consigned to merchants in Havana and Vera Cruz, Mexico. It is estimated that the value of the ship’s cargo was nearly $500,000. Her net tonnage is 4,000 tons. She hails from Santander, France, and cleared from Corunna, Spain, April 23, two days after the President issued the blockade proclamation, although Captain Lechapelane declared he was not notified.
As soon as official notice of her capture reached Washington telegrams were sent ordering immediate release.
The explanation for this action on the part of the administration is given in the statement which follows and which was issued from the White House:
“The LaFayette was released in pursuance of orders which were issued by the Navy Department previous to her seizure, but which had not been received by the commanding officers of the vessels that made the capture. The facts are that on April 29 the French Embassy made an informal inquiry as to whether the LaFayette, which left Saint Nazaire, France, for Vera Cruz, by way of Havana, before war was declared or information of the blockade was received, would be allowed to land at Havana certain passengers, her mail bags and the dispatch bag of the Consulate-General of France and take some French passengers on board. An assurance was given that, if this privilege should be granted, the steamer would be forbidden by the French Consul to land goods.
“The matter was duly considered and it was decided that, without regard to the strict law of blockade and as an act of courtesy, the request of the French Government should be acceded to. Orders were accordingly sent on the 2d of May. When information was received of the capture of the steamer and of her having been brought to Key West, these orders were communicated to the captors, with instructions to release the steamer and see that the orders were duly delivered, so that they might be carried into effect. No demand was made, either by or on behalf of the French Government, directly or indirectly, for the steamer’s release. The Wilmington will escort the LaFayette to Havana to-night.”
On May 8th the British tramp steamer Strathdee, Captain Currie, attempted to run the blockade, but was overhauled by the gunboat Machias. The Captain of the Strathdee claimed that the vessel was loaded with sugar and that he had on board a number of Spanish refugees from Sagua la Grande. He also said that the steamer was bound for Matanzas, where it was desired to disembark some of the refugees. The commander of the Machias was skeptical of the story, however, and warned the Captain of the Strathdee that if he attempted to take the vessel into Matanzas she would be fired on, whereupon the Strathdee put about and steamed away in the direction of New York.
Three small prizes towed into key west.
Three prizes were brought in May 9th. They were the brigantine Lorenzo, taken by the Montgomery near Havana, on Friday, while bound for Rio de la Plata with a cargo of dried beef.
The Espana, a little fishing sloop, was taken by the Morrill about three miles off Mariel just after a sharp engagement. The Newport was close at hand at the time, and a prize crew made up from both ships brought the capture in.
The third vessel taken was the schooner Padre de Dios, Master Mateo Herrera, laden with fish. It was taken by the Newport off Mariel, and was brought in by a petty officer and a prize crew. All three accepted one blank shot apiece as sufficient
Making her prize work as towboat.
One captive was seen taking another to port on the morning of May 9th. Both are prizes of the gunboat Newport, and were captured between Mariel and Havana.
It was about sunrise, just after an inexplicable shot had been fired from a Havana battery, that a dispatch boat off Morro Castle sighted the Newport with a big Norwegian tramp steamer, the Bratsberg, following obediently. Suddenly the Newport’s stack blew clouds of black smoke, and, looking for the cause, a pretty two-masted schooner was seen, her sails wing and wing, flying from the northwest for Havana.
A blank shot sounded over the waters. The schooner stood no chance, but she kept her course until a solid six-pounder from the Newport skimmed across to her, and dropped ahead of the bowsprit. Then she dropped her jib and came about quickly, sailing toward the warship, as one has seen a dog run to his master at the snap of a lash. She was the Fernandito, avaricious of the bounty Captain-General Blanco offered for fish delivered to hungry Havana. A line was put aboard her, and the Bratsberg was compelled to take the other end and go to Key West.
The Spanish set a trap one day during the blockade. The wily Spaniards arranged a trap to send a couple of our ships to the bottom. A small schooner was sent out from Havana harbor to draw some of the Americans into the ambuscade. The ruse worked like a charm. The Vicksburg and the Morrill, in the heat of the chase and in their contempt for Spanish gunnery, walked straight into the trap that had been set for them. Had the Spaniards possessed their souls in patience but five minutes longer, not even their bad gun practice would have saved our ships, and two more of our vessels would lie at the bottom within two lengths of the wreck of the ill-starred Maine.
Friday evening the Vicksburg and the Morrill, cruising to the west of Morro Castle, were fired on by the big guns of the Cojimar batteries. Two shots were fired at the Vicksburg and one at the Morrill. Both fell short, and both vessels, without returning the fire, steamed out of range. It would have been folly to have done otherwise. But this time the Spaniards had better luck. The schooner they had sent out before daylight ran off to the eastward, hugging the shore, with the wind on her starboard quarter. About three miles east of the entrance to the harbor she came over on the port tack. A light haze fringed the horizon and she was not discovered until three miles off shore, when the Mayflower made her out and signaled the Morrill and Vicksburg.
They take the bait.
Captain Smith, of the Morrill, and Commander Lilly, of the Vicksburg, immediately slapped on all steam and started in pursuit. The schooner instantly put about and ran for Morro Castle before the wind. By doing so she would, according to the well-conceived Spanish plot, lead the two American warships directly under the guns of the Santa Clara batteries. These works are a short mile west of Morro, and are a part of the defenses of the harbor. There are two batteries, one at the shore, which has been recently thrown up, of sand and mortar, with wide embrasures for eight-inch guns, and the other on the crest of the rocky eminence which juts out into the water of the gulf at the point.
The upper battery mounts modern 10-inch and 12-inch Krupp guns behind a six-foot stone parapet, in front of which are twenty feet of earthwork and a belting of railroad iron. This battery is considered the most formidable of Havana’s defenses except Morro Castle. It is masked and has not been absolutely located by the American warships. It is probably due to the fact that the Spanish did not desire to expose its position that the Vicksburg and Morrill are now afloat.
The Morrill and Vicksburg were about six miles from the schooner when the chase began. They steamed after her at full speed, the Morrill leading until within a mile and a half of the Santa Clara batteries. Commander Smith, of the Vicksburg, was the first to realize the danger into which the reckless pursuit had led them. He concluded it was time to haul off and sent a shot across the bow of the schooner.
Nearly hit by shrapnel shells.
The Spanish skipper instantly brought his vessel about, but while she was still rolling in the trough of the sea, with her sails flapping, an 8-inch shrapnel shell came hurtling through the air from the water battery, a mile and a half away. It passed over the Morrill between the pilothouse and the smokestack and exploded less than fifty feet on the port quarter. The small shot rattled against her side. It was a close call.
Two more shots followed in quick succession, both shrapnel. One burst close under the starboard quarter, filling the engine room with the smoke of the explosion of the shell, and the other, like the first, passed over and exploded just beyond.
The Spanish gunners had the range and their time fuses were accurately set. The crews of both ships were at their guns. Lieutenant Craig, who was in charge of the bow 4-inch rapid-fire gun of the Morrill, asked for and obtained permission to return the fire. At the first shot the Vicksburg, which was in the wake of the Morrill, slightly in-shore, sheered off and passed to windward under the Morrill’s stern.
Another narrow escape.
In the meantime, Captain Smith also put his helm to port, and was none too soon, for as the Morrill stood off a solid 8-inch shot grazed her starboard quarter and kicked up tons of water as it struck a wave 100 yards beyond. Captain Smith said afterward that this was undoubtedly an 8-inch armor piercing projectile, and that it would have passed through the Morrill’s boilers had he not changed his course in the nick of time.
All the guns of the water battery were now at work. One of them cut the Jacob’s ladder of the Vicksburg adrift, and another carried away a portion of the rigging. As the Morrill and the Vicksburg steamed away their aft guns were used, but only a few shots were fired. The Morrill’s 6-inch gun was elevated for 4,000 yards and struck the earth-works repeatedly. The Vicksburg fired but three shots from her 6-pounder.
The Spaniards continued to fire shot and shell for twenty minutes, but the shots were ineffective. Some of them were so wild that they roused the American “Jackies” to jeers. The Spaniards only ceased firing when the Morrill and Vicksburg were completely out of range.
If all the Spanish gunners had been suffering from strabismus their practice could not have been worse. But the officers of both the Morrill and Vicksburg frankly admit their own recklessness and the narrow escape of their vessels from destruction. They are firmly convinced that the pursuit of the schooner was a neatly planned trick, which almost proved successful.
If any one of the shots had struck the thin skin of either vessel it would have offered no more resistance than a piece of paper to a rifle ball.
The accurate range of the first few shots is accounted for by the fact that the Spanish officers had ample time to make observations. The bearings of the two vessels were probably taken with a range-finder at the Santa Clara battery, and, as this battery is probably connected by wire with Morro, they were able to take bearings from both points, and by laborious calculations they fixed the positions of the vessels pretty accurately. With such opportunity for observation it would have been no great trick for an American gunner to drop a shell down the smokestack of a vessel.
As soon as the ships sheered off after the first fire, the Spanish gunners lost the range and their practice became ludicrous. If they had waited five minutes longer before opening fire, Captain Smith says it would have been well-nigh impossible to have missed the target.
Prior to the invasion of Cuba by our army large stores of arms and ammunition were sent to the insurgents. One of the most notable of these expeditions was made by the tug Leyden, which carried 50,000 rounds of rifle cartridges and two chests of dynamite. She left Key West with Colonel Acosta and some twenty-five other Cubans on board, who were to join General Gomez in Santa Clara Province. The tug reached the Cuban coast and after landing her passengers in safety steamed to a point seventeen miles west of Havana, where she was met by General Perico Delgado with about 100 Cubans on the beach. The Leyden’s crew began landing the ammunition, when a small body of Spanish cavalry appeared some little distance back from the shore, and, dismounting, began firing upon the Leyden. Several bullets had penetrated the tug’s smoke-stack, when the boat drew off the shore some three miles, where it met the gunboat Wilmington.
Returning under the protection of the gunboat, the Leyden again began landing its cargo. The Spaniards soon returned, and, ignoring a lively fusillade from Degaldo’s insurgents, resumed their attack on the Leyden. The Wilmington, which had taken up a position further off shore, sent a three-pound shell into the midst of the cavalry, wounding several of them and putting them to flight. The Leyden then finished the work of landing the ammunition, and returned to Key West.
Declaration of war.
The Spanish Minister in Washington Demands His Passports— Minister Woodford Leaves Madrid—Formal Declaration of War—Our Government Declares Its Intentions—The War Feeling in Spain— Effect of the Declaration in Cuba—Opinion of the Vice-President of the Cuban Republic.
Spain was given until Saturday, April 23, at noon, to answer the demand of our government expressed in, the joint Cuban resolutions, passed by both Houses of Congress, and signed by the President. In default of an answer by that time, the President declared his intention to carry out the purpose of the ultimatum. A copy of this ultimatum was delivered to Senor Polo, the Spanish Minister at Washington. Senor Polo instantly demanded his passports, declared all diplomatic relations between himself as Minister and the United States no longer possible, and within a few hours was on his way to Canada.
At Madrid, before our Minister could comply with his instructions, he was notified by the Spanish Minister of Foreign Affairs that diplomatic relations were at an end. He at once asked for his passports, and the same day left for Paris.
President McKinley rightly regarded the conduct of Spain in breaking off diplomatic intercourse and refusing even to receive his demand, as an equivalent to an absolute refusal. There remained no reason to await action till Saturday noon, as no possible reply could be expected to a demand the very presentation of which had been positively rejected. In short, Spain instantly showed that it regarded the act of Congress and President as practically a declaration of war, and there remained no resort except to arms.
On Monday, April 25, the President sent to Congress a message asking for a joint resolution declaring that a state of war existed between Spain and the United States, and a bill was at once introduced into the House declaring that war did exist, and had existed, since and including April 21, which passed in less than two minutes. The Senate promptly concurred and the bill became a law.
While the United States was not a party to the Declaration of Paris, the government made known its intention to maintain its four cardinal principles: (1) Privateering abolished. (2) Neutral flags to exempt an enemy’s goods from capture, except contraband of war. (3) Neutral goods under an enemy’s flag not to be seized (4) Blockade to be binding must be effective. Spain, on her part, issued a decree recognizing the fact that a state of war existed, breaking off all treaties with the United States, and promising to observe the rules just given, except that she maintained her right to grant letters of marque to privateers. But this exception was modified by Spain’s declaring her intention to send out only auxiliary cruisers taken from the mercantile marine and kept under naval control. One consideration which may have influenced this decision was the self-evident fact that the European Powers would certainly interfere, in the event that Spain attempted to carry on privateering under the old methods.
The war feeling in Spain.
In Spain the war feeling was high. The Queen Regent, in her speech to the Cortes, declared “the unalterable resolution of my government to defend our rights, whatsoever sacrifices may be imposed upon us in accomplishing this task.” She said further:
“Thus identifying myself with the nation, I not only fulfil the oath I swore in accepting the regency, but I follow the dictates of a mother’s heart, trusting to the Spanish people to gather behind my son’s throne and to defend it until he is old enough to defend it himself, as well as trusting to the Spanish people to defend the honor and territory of the nation.”
The policy of the administration.
The President and Congress undoubtedly acted on the lines of good policy in making a formal declaration of war. As Mr. McKinley said in his message to Congress, the trend of events compelled him to take measures of a hostile kind. A blockade had been established and Spanish vessels had been captured. While every civilized power on earth immediately learned the facts, there still remained the necessity of going through the formal act of notifying them of this government’s intentions. In this instance, as in others in the nation’s history, the actual hostilities were begun before it seemed necessary for the government to make a formal declaration. According to the authorities on international law, “a declaration may be necessary, but is not essential.” In this case, when it became so evident that a general conflict was imminent, the administration did fairly by the commercial nations of the world in formally stating its position, and giving them all warning as to the consequences which might follow in the case of vessels attempting to enter Cuban waters.
The resolutions were admirably brief and concise, merely declaring the existence of a state of war, and authorizing the President to do whatever he thought best with the army and the navy.
By this act, while the situation was in itself no way changed, the nation assumed a definite diplomatic status as a power at war, and was free to proceed to any such acts as came within the laws of civilized nations in time of war.
Effect of the declaration in Cuba.
When the news of the action of the administration reached the insurgents in Cuba it caused great rejoicing among them, for they felt that the hour of their deliverance was at last at hand. In speaking of it, Dr. Capote, Vice-President of the Cuban Republic, said:
I desire to thank the great American people and their government for the resolution they have made to free us from the tyrannical rule of Spain. The people of Cuba believe in the good faith of the people of America. They believe in their honesty of purpose to free Cuba and are confident of their ability to do so; but it must be borne in mind that the loadstar of the Cuban is not merely freedom from the dominion of Spain, but independence from outside control, however beneficent that control might be, and absolute non-interference by others in the management of our own affairs. “Cuba free and independent” is the watchword of Cuban liberty.
The Cuban commanders await some decisive step on the part of your generals. If you can open up and maintain communication with the Cuban armies, and give us a plentiful supply of arms and ammunition, we will free Cuba without the loss of an American soldier. Our position on the field is precarious. For lack of supplies, we cannot concentrate our troops. Our camps shift from place to place, according to food conditions. We are hampered and embarrassed for lack of ammunition. We cannot arm the men we are able to put in the field. Open up communication, give us arms and supplies, and we ask no more.
As to the eventual settlement of the island, when the war is ended and when the last Spanish soldier has left Cuba, the work of the provisional government will be ended. The people of Cuba, whatever the class or sympathy, will then say how we shall be governed. There will be no reprisals, no confiscation, no distinctions.
Call for the national guard, our citizen soldier.
Enthusiastic Answer to the Call—Requirements of the War Department—Who May Enlist—How the Army was Formed—In the Training Camps—The American Makes the Best Soldier—The “Rough Riders”—Cowboys and Society Men—Their Uniforms and Their Weapons—Their Fighting Leaders.
If all the men who showed a desire to answer the call to arms had been accepted, no nation in the world could have boasted of a larger army. The demand was so limited and the supply so great that many more had to be refused than were accepted, and many of the National Guard, who were given the preference in all the States, were rejected at the final examination, because they lacked some of the qualifications necessary in a soldier of the United States.
According to the requirements of the war department applicants for enlistment must be between the ages of 18 and 35 years, of good character and habits, able-bodied, free from disease and must be able to speak the English language. If one is addicted to the bad habit of smoking cigarettes it is quite likely that he will not pass the physical examination. A man who has been a heavy drinker is apt to be rejected without ceremony.
Married men will only be enlisted upon the approval of the regimental commander.
Minors must not be enlisted without the written consent of father, only surviving parent, or legally appointed guardian. Original enlistment will be confined to persons who are citizens of the United States or who have made legal declaration of their intention to become citizens thereof.
These requirements fulfilled a man is permitted to take the physical examination. Few understand just how rigid this examination is. Many have been rejected who thought that they were in perfect physical condition. A number of applicants who were confident that they would be allowed to enlist were rejected by the physicians on account of varicose veins. Varicose veins are enlarged veins which are apt to burst under the stress of long continued exertion. Closely allied to this is varicocele, which threw out a surprisingly large proportion of the National Guard and the recruits.
After a man is weighed and his height taken, he is turned over to the doctor, who places the applicant’s hands above his head and proceeds to feel his flesh. If it is soft and of flabby fiber the physician is not well pleased and if he finds that the bones are too delicate for the amount of flesh he turns the applicant down. Fat men, however, get through if their bones are solid and there is no organic weakness of any description. To discover the condition of the heart the applicant is made to hop about five yards on one foot and back again on the other. The doctor then listens to the beating of the heart. He lifts his head and says to some apparently fine-looking specimen of manhood the simple word:
“Rejected.”
This man has heart trouble, and, strange to say, he does not know it. If a man be of a pale complexion or rather sallow, the doctors will question him with regard to his stomach. Of course the lungs are thoroughly tested. It is not often, however, that any one presents himself who is suffering from lung trouble. One man in particular was rejected because of the formation of his chest. He was what is commonly known as “pigeon-breasted.” The doctors said that there was not enough room for air in the lungs, and yet the rejected applicant was a well-known athlete.
But after all organic centers have been found in excellent condition several things yet remain to be tested. A man’s feet must not blister easily. His teeth must be good, because bad teeth interfere with digestion and are apt to develop stomach troubles. Of course other things taken into consideration a particular defect may be overlooked according to the discretion of the doctor. A man with his index finger gone stands no show.
A bow-legged man will be accepted, but a knocked-kneed man rarely.
The final test is of the eyes. At a, distance of twenty feet one must be able to read letters a half inch in size. Many tricks were played to read the letters when the eager candidate could see only a blur before him. The favorite method was to memorize the letters from those who had taken the examination and knew in just what order the letters were situated.
How an army is formed.
The making of an army—that is what it means to turn men of peace to men of war, to fit the mechanic or the business man, the farmer or the miner, for a passage at arms with a foreign foe—has been for the present generation a matter of conjecture and of lessons drawn from previous passages in the nation’s chronicles. In our war with Spain it became a fact, and the progress made in the various stages forms a chapter in the public history which is as interesting as any of those conquests of either peace or war which brighten for every American the pages of the achievements of the Union of the States.
It is impossible to tell just how an army is made. During the long debates which preceded the declaration of war, eloquent men on both sides of the chambers of Congress pictured the strength of American arms, the shrillness of the scream of the eagle, and the sharpness of his talons, and applauding galleries saw in the coming combat little but the calling out of the vast body of the reserve strength of the American people, its marching upon the enemy, and return, bearing captured standards and leading prisoners in chains, to the music of the applauding nations, and the thanksgiving of a people made free by their struggles. The other side was never touched. The nights of toil by staff officers, the multiplied forces of mills and factories, the shriek of the trains crossing the continent, bearing men and munitions, and the hours of waiting for the completion of those warlike implements which the peaceful American has never before contemplated in the expansion of his industrial institutions, were entirely overlooked.
Not by all, however, for, from the moment the conflict seemed inevitable, stern-eyed men who had fought before began to count, not the cost, but the hours between the giving of an order and its fulfillment, between the calling and the coming, and finally when the results of their labors were completed the story of what they did may be partly told.
All the processes of making a soldier are as distinct as are those which mark the seed time and the harvest, the milling and the making of the loaf. It can be readily seen that in a country where the standing army is but 25,000, and the militia forces of the various States bears such a slight proportion to the population, that manufactures of materials of use only in time of war could not flourish. Thus it was that at the time of the commencement of hostilities there was available in the United States equipment for an army of less than one-fifth the size of that which afterwards took the field, and patriotism and fidelity were shown as much in the outfitting of that force, as can be shown in actual battle by any volunteer or regular officer, whether he be posted in fort or field, and win glory by brilliant dash, or simply doing his duty by holding his post.
The ready response to the President’s call for volunteers was sufficient to prove that the people were eager to take up arms and ready to go to the front. But enthusiasm, patriotism and readiness never make an army. An army is a great machine, of which each individual is a part, and there even the militia men of the various States, who had spent so much time in preparing themselves for just such a struggle, lacked the one great element without which no army can hope for success: the capacity to move in unison. Few of the States had given their men the training which makes of the simple company or regiment a wheel in the brigade or division.
In the great camps at Chickamauga, at Camp Alger, at Tampa, and at San Francisco the task of making an army from men who a month before had been working in the store, the mill or the field, went on. This meant long, thorough drilling under competent instructors. Careful study of the tactics and intelligent comprehension of the meaning of an order makes the soldier. It is not possible to imagine anything more difficult than the thorough training of the arms bearer, and for this task the American seems better fitted than the men of any other country. In an analysis of the soldiers of the world an authority would place the American, combining as he does the blood of nations, at the head of the list, for the reason that with his finer sensibility, his greater capacity to think while acting and to act while thinking, all tend to produce in him that character capable of high and perfect development in the soldier.
At Chickamauga, under General Wade; at Washington, under General Graham; at Tampa, under General Shafter; at San Francisco, under General Merriam, and on the New York and New England coasts under brigadiers who had served East and West, the raw material was formed, until at length the perfect soldier was produced, the soldier of whom it could be said:
“Theirs not to
reason why,
Theirs but to
do and die.”
About the rough riders.
Those who are acquainted with the nature of the service usually required of cavalry in time of war will not question the usefulness of the cowboy regiment—rough riders as they are called—that were raised in the West to take part in the invasion of Cuba.
The cowboy is a rapidly passing type. Barbed wire, the fencing in of the range, together with the irrigation and cultivation of those regions which were once marked as deserts on the maps—have been responsible for his undoing and he has made what may prove to be his last stand, as a soldier.
The cowboy regiment was the idea of the assistant secretary of the navy, Theodore Roosevelt, who had had some experience himself as a cowboy on his Wyoming ranch and who was an expert in such matters as branding, rope-throwing, broncho breaking and those other practices which are peculiar to the “cow-puncher.”
Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt’s regiment, which figures on the army records as the “1st regiment of rifle rangers,” but which the general public from the first preferred to call “Roosevelt’s rough riders,” or more simply still, “Teddy’s terrors,” was made up almost entirely of cowboys, with a small sprinkling of society men, who had both a fondness and an aptitude for horsemanship, which had found no other outlet than that offered by the hunting field and the polo ground.
Made up almost entirely of cowboys.
In organization the regiment was not widely different from the famous Texas Rangers, but the uniform was the same as that of the cavalrymen of the regular army, slightly modified. Its personnel, with the exception of the millionaire members—was about the same, however, as that of the Rangers. It included men from almost every State in the Union, and they could one and all ride well, and shoot well, and many of them smelled powder in more than one Indian war.
While Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt took the most active part in its formation, he did not command the regiment. That responsibility was delegated to Colonel Wood, who was almost as well known in the West as Roosevelt was in the East. He entered the army as a surgeon, but he probably had much more to do with the making of wounds than their healing.
It is said of him that when he was first assigned for duty to an Arizona post he arrived at the post one night at 7 o’clock, and the next morning at 4 was in the field and at work. This was during the Apache campaign in 1885, and Surgeon Wood soon won for himself the name of the fighting doctor. He was conspicuous in the famous Geronimo outbreak, having command at various times of the infantry and scouts engaged in the chase after that wily savage.
The regiment was armed with the Krag-Jorgensen carbine and revolvers, without which no cowboy would be complete even in time of peace. And instead of the regular cavalry sword, which is a rather unwieldy instrument except in the hands of men trained to its use, the rough riders adopted the Cuban machete, which even the inexperienced can use successfully; but it was not intended that they should be swordsmen; their reliance was on the rifle and revolver. The machete was carried merely as a possible dependence should ammunition fail, or a hand-to-hand encounter with the cavalry of the enemy occur. In the development of this plan of action it can be seen that Colonel Wood and Lieutenent-Colonel Roosevelt in the tactics they employed followed closely those used by the mounted riflemen of the revolution. It was a band of this sort that after a ride of sixty miles the last day met and utterly routed the English under Colonel Ferguson.
Blockade of Cuban ports.
Contraband of War—Confiscation of Cargoes—Establishment of a Blockade—Notice to Other Nations—Prizes, Lawful and Unlawful— Privateering Abolished—Distribution of Prize Money—The Use the Government Makes of Its Share.
While the great blockade was in progress the air was full of talk about “prizes,” “contraband,” “search,” and “seizure,” and some of the terms proved rather puzzling to the average citizen who had never had occasion to study the rules of war.
First about “contraband.” It is one of the strictest rules of war that neutral nations must not interfere nor in any way give help to either party. To furnish ships or arms or ammunition might greatly prolong the conflict or even change its result, especially where this assistance is extended to a nation—like Spain to-day— ill supplied and of small resources. This would be manifestly unfair, and for a neutral to offer or abet such aid is a grave offense. For remissness in an aggravated case of this sort (that of the Alabama) England was forced to pay us heavy damages. Neither national sympathy nor national interests afford any excuse.
That is why we restrained and punished those who organized expeditions to help the Cubans while we were still at peace with Spain. But nations engaged in war must not ask too much. They may insist that a neutral shall allow no hostile operations to be carried on within its territory, but they have no right to demand that it shall punish its private citizens for engaging in trade in articles that may be helpful to the enemy, for that would be imposing too much trouble and expense upon a nation which has no concern in the quarrel. Such trade is punishable, but it is the business of the nation injured by it to catch the ships engaged in it and enforce the penalty—which is usually confiscation of the goods as “contraband of war.” To do this it may stop and search any ships—except warships—which it finds at sea; and so long as no outrages are committed the neutral must submit and has no ground for complaint. Trade in contraband goods is tolerated, but it is carried on at the trader’s own risk. His government will not undertake to protect him from the legitimate consequences of his venture.
As has been stated, the contraband goods are confiscated by the captor. The vessel, however, must be captured while the guilty goods are still on board; to seize the proceeds after the cargo has been sold and landed is not allowable, though it has sometimes been done. If the ship belongs to the same owner as the forfeited goods, it, too, is confiscated; otherwise it goes free after the goods are taken off.
It is very important to know just what articles are contraband and what are not; but this is often hard to decide. There is no question about weapons, military equipments and ammunition. These are plainly contraband, and the materials from which they are made are classed with them whenever they seem intended for military uses. Thus sulphur and saltpeter are always contraband. The detached parts of cannon and naval engines do escape by the trick of separation.
Cloth is not contraband in itself, but if of a quality evidently designed for the manufacture of uniform it would probably be seized. Horses are so useful in war that most nations treat them as contraband—though, oddly enough, Russia has never done so. Still more objectionable, nowadays, is coal, which will never be allowed to reach the bunkers of hostile warships if it can be prevented. This shows plainly how uncertain and changeful is the list, for fifty years ago coal was as free as provisions, though even food must not be run through the lines of a blockade.
Articles, such as coal, which are of great value in war, but are also largely used for peaceful purposes, are called “occasional contraband” and their seizure has given rise to endless disputes. There is no justice in treating them as contraband except when they are obviously destined for hostile use. Sometimes, in doubtful cases, such goods, instead of being confiscated, are seized and paid for to prevent their reaching the enemy. This is called “pre-emption;” but, fair as it seems, there is much danger that it will be made a pretext for appropriating goods which ought to go quite free, and the practice is generally condemned.
Search at sea is extremely annoying, and ships entirely innocent of contraband are often subjected to great inconvenience. That must be endured; to attempt to resist or escape would make them liable to confiscation, whatever their cargo might prove to be. Only properly commissioned vessels, however, are entitled to hold up merchantmen for this purpose. Another kind of meddling in war for which a neutral citizen may be punished by confiscation, but for which his government is not held responsible, is blockade running.
A blockade, such as we maintained around Cuba, is established by stationing war vessels at the entrances of harbors and at intervals along the blockaded coast. Its purpose is to cut off supplies and stop all communication with the enemy by sea. The merchant ships 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 here makes no difference. If the 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. And unlike vessels merely guilty of carrying contraband, she is no less liable to seizure on her return voyage, after her cargo has been disposed of. Altogether, blockade running is perilous business. It is usually attempted under cover of night or 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 dispatches.
Neutral ships, however, are entitled to some sort of warning that a blockade exists. Notice is therefore sent to all neutral governments, announcing the fact and stating exactly the extent of coast covered. Besides this, until the blockade has lasted for some time and thus has become generally known it is customary for the officers of the blockading fleet to visit and warn every ship that approaches, the warning, with the date, being entered upon her register. If, after that, she approaches the forbidden coast, she is liable to confiscation—though possibly great stress of weather might excuse her provided she landed no cargo. Instructions of this sort were issued by President McKinley to our squadron blockading Cuba. A reasonable time, also, was granted to ships that were lying in the blockaded ports at the time when the blockade was declared, to make their escape. President McKinley allowed thirty days for this purpose, which was unusually liberal.
Nations engaged in war have sometimes assumed that they could establish a blockade by simply issuing a proclamation forbidding neutrals to approach the enemy’s coast, without stationing ships to enforce it. For example, during the Napoleonic wars, France declared the whole coast of England to be blockaded at a time when she scarcely dared send out a ship from her ports, having been soundly thrashed at Trafalgar. But these “paper blockades” are a mere waste of time and ink. They are not valid, and except in the way of angry and contemptuous protest, no nation would consider them worthy of the slightest attention. If Spain, for instance, should attempt a desperate game of bluff by declaring New Orleans, New York and Boston under blockade, all neutral ships would come and go just the same, and she would meddle with them at her peril. This question—if it ever was a question—was finally decided by the epoch-making convention of the powers at the
And now a few words about “prizes”—a particularly interesting and timely theme, for during the very first week of the war our fleet captured no fewer than fifteen of them.
In time of war properly commissioned ships are entitled to capture not only the armed vessels but also the helpless merchantmen of the enemy. It does seem a good deal like piracy, but it has been the universal practice from time immemorial. These captured vessels are taken to some convenient port of the captor’s own country that the courts may pass judgment on them, and if there has been no mistake made in the seizure they are forthwith condemned as “lawful prize.” Then they are sold, and “prize money” is awarded the captors in proportion to the value of the prize. The cargo is treated in the same way, unless it happens to belong to a neutral, in which case it is free; though the owner must put up with the inconvenience and delay resulting from the seizure, since he deliberately took that risk when he placed his goods in a hostile craft. Formerly his property was sometimes confiscated under these circumstances, but the treaty of Paris, already mentioned, put a stop to that. Formerly, too, the goods of enemies could be taken from neutral ships and confiscated in the same manner as contraband of war, but the treaty of Paris made an end of that also.
Another excellent rule adopted on that notable occasion abolished privateering. Privateers were armed ships belonging to private citizens who had obtained from their own government a commission (letter of marque) which authorized them to make prize of the enemy’s merchant vessels and appropriate the proceeds. The abolition of privateering was a long step in the right direction, for the privateer’s motive was mainly plunder, and the whole business was really close kin to piracy. Neither the United States nor Spain signed the original agreement, but both have acceded to it now—Spain, evidently, very much against her will, for her citizens thirsted for the rich booty of our commerce, a fact which makes supremely ridiculous her crazy ravings against our legitimate captures as “American piracy.”
Distribution of prize money.
The prize money adjudged to captors is distributed in the following proportions:
1. The commander of a fleet or squadron, one-twentieth part of all prize money awarded to any vessel or vessels under his immediate command.
2. To the commander of a division of a fleet or squadron, a sum equal to one-fiftieth of any prize money awarded to a vessel of the division under his command, to be paid from the moiety due the United States, if there be such moiety; if not, from the amount awarded the captors.
3. To the fleet captain, one-hundredth part of all prize money awarded to any vessel of the fleet in which he is serving, in which case he shall share in proportion to his pay, with the other officers and men on board such vessel.
4. To the commander of a single vessel, one-tenth of all the prize money awarded to the vessel.
5. After the foregoing deductions, the residue is distributed among the others doing duty on board, and borne upon the books of the ship, in proportion to their respective rates of pay.
All vessels of the navy within signal distance of the vessel making the capture, and in such condition as to be able to render effective aid if required, will share in the prize. Any person temporarily absent from his vessel may share in the captures made during his absence. The prize court determines what vessels shall share in a prize, and also whether a prize was superior or inferior to the vessel or vessels making the capture.
The share of prize money awarded to the United States is set apart forever as a fund for the payment of pensions to naval officers, seamen and marines entitled to pensions.
Spanish dissensions at home.
Spain Threatened with Interior Difficulties—Danger that the Crown Might Be Lost to the Baby King of Spain—Don Carlos and the Carlists Are Active—Castelar Is Asked to Establish a Republic— General Weyler as a Possible Dictator—History of the Carlist Movement and Sketch of “the Pretender.”
While these events were in progress in the international relations of the United States and Spain, with a threat of a hopeless war hanging over the latter, the embarrassments of the government of the peninsular kingdom as to the conflict of its own affairs at home multiplied daily. Altogether aside from the prospective operations of the war itself the Queen Regent and her Ministry had more than one local difficulty to face.
It was frankly recognized in their inner councils that a succession of Spanish defeats, in all probability, would lose the throne to the dynasty and that the boy king would never wear the crown of his father. A second threat of danger was that in the midst of difficulties abroad there would be an uprising of the adherents of Don Carlos “The Pretender,” who would take advantage of the situation to start a civil war and seize the authority. In addition to all this, the republicans of Spain, growing more restless under the misgovernment they saw, united in an address to Castelar, who was formerly the president of the Spanish republic, urging that he declare the
Don Carlos and the Carlists.
Spain has been the scene of many revolutions, a fact easily understood when the character of the government is known. Dishonesty and oppression in an administration always breed the spirit of rebellion. Don Carlos, who regards Alfonso as a usurper, and believes himself the true King of Spain, issued, April 13, from his retreat in Switzerland, a manifesto to his supporters. In this he arraigned the government, sought to inflame the excited Spanish populace against the Queen Regent, her son and her ministers, and declared that they had permitted the Spanish standard to be dragged in the mud. He said in part:
Twenty years of patriotic retirement have proved that I am neither ambitious nor a conspirator. The greater and better part of my life as a man has been spent in the difficult task of restraining my natural impulses and those of my enthusiastic Carlists, whose eagerness I was the first to appreciate, but which nevertheless I curbed, although it rent my heart to do so. To-day national honor speaks louder than anything, and the same patriotic duty which formerly bade me say “Wait yet a while,” may lead me to cry, commanding the Carlists, “Forward,” and not only the Carlists, but all Spaniards, especially to the two national forces which still bravely withstand the enervating femininities of the regency, the people and the army.
If the glove which Washington has flung in the face of Spain is picked up by Madrid I will continue the same example of abnegation as before, wretched in that I cannot partake in the struggle other than by prayers and by the influence of my name. I will applaud from my soul those who have the good fortune to face the fire, and I shall consider those Carlists as serving my cause who embark in war against the United States.
But if everything leads me to fear that the policy of humiliation will again prevail, we will snatch the reins of government from those who are unworthy to hold them and we will occupy their places.
While their leader was talking in this strain, his supporters were preparing to act. They believed that the conditions for a revolution were more favorable than they had been for years, that the present dynasty was doomed, and that Spain would be forced to choose between republicanism and Don Carlos. The only chance, they said for the retention of the present dynasty, would be for Spain to defeat the United States, and they were not so blind as to believe that such would be the outcome of a war between the two powers.
Ready for action.
Don Carlos himself believed that the time had come to act. He journeyed to Ostend, where he consulted with Lord Ashburnham and other Catholic Englishmen who were his supporters, and mapped out a plan of campaign. He stood ready at any convenient moment to cross the frontier and place himself at the head of his supporters.
Never since there was a pretender to the throne of Spain, and Don Carlos is the third of the name, had the outlook been so favorable for the fall of the constitutional monarchy.
Discontent has been widespread in Spain and it has been fomented by the Carlists, with a splendid organization, with more than 2,000 clubs scattered in various parts of the kingdom.
Causes for discontent have not been lacking, and the Cuban and Philippine revolts, together with the threatened trouble with the United States, were not the only reasons for popular dissatisfaction. Spain was bankrupt and found it difficult to borrow money from the money lenders of London and Paris. With the increased expenses due to the revolution there had been a decrease in receipts for the same cause—the usual revenues from Havana being lacking. The people were poor and thousands of them starving. Additional taxation was out of the question, for the people were taxed to the limit.
These were the causes to which the strength of the Carlist agitation was due. And that it was strong there can be no doubt. The birthday of Don Carlos, March 30, was celebrated this year with an enthusiasm and unprecedented degree of unanimity throughout the kingdom, and the government did not feel itself strong enough to interfere with them.
Toasted as king.
There were hundreds of fetes in cities, towns and villages, and many of them were held in the open air, where the pretender was toasted as “El Key” or “the king,” and Alfonso was ignored.
This inaction could be due only to the fact that the government was powerless. To say that they did not fear Don Carlos would be ridiculous, as the latest manifesto of Don Carlos was suppressed, and the government was really in fear and trembling. A more plausible reason would be that the ministry wished to be in the good graces of Don Carlos should he win, and they were not ready to trust themselves to absolute loyalty to the present dynasty.
Meanwhile, as this chapter is written, reports from Spain tell of unprecedented Carlist activity. They are arming themselves. Arms are pouring across the frontier in such quantities as to show that the Carlists are preparing for an early rising, and all of the actions and utterances of the leader show that they are only waiting for a favorable opportunity to begin the revolution. Strong proof of this is to be found in the fact that since Don Carlos secured his second wife’s vast fortune he has been penurious, and it is not believed that he would spend money in arms unless he believed the expenditure would bring about some practical advantage to his cause.
His agents have been working among the army officers, and it is said that they have secured many recruits for their cause. The throne of Spain, like the throne of Russia, during the last century, or that of Borne in the days of the empire, rests largely upon the army, and if the army, discontented and dissatisfied as it certainly is, were to revolt, Don Carlos’ success would be almost certain.
Ever since his marriage in 1894 with the Princess de Rohan, who brought him a large fortune, Don Carlos has been watching a favorable opportunity for a coup. There cannot be a better one than that which will be offered when Spain is defeated by the United States, and it would not be surprising to see Don Carlos unfurl his banner to the breeze and call for troops to rally to his standard.
Those who are supporters of the pretensions of Don Carlos believe they have right on their side. His supporters love him with the loyalty of the legitimists to the house of Stuart during the period before the restoration in England. His personality is attractive. He has all the elements of personal popularity with the masses. He is brave and dashing. He does not sit and weep over the fallen glories of his race, but he is always ready for action. He is ready at any moment to lead an army in a forlorn cause and will fight, for what he believes to be his rights.
Flower of Spain.
The position occupied in Spanish affairs by Don Carlos is similar to that occupied by Prince Charles Edward toward the throne of Great Britain during the last century. His family has been dispossessed for about the same length of time and he has made a fight just as romantic, but with more brilliant prospects, and at the head of the heroic highlanders, dwellers in the Basque mountains. His followers are the flower of Spain, the most aristocratic families in the kingdom, willing to risk all in his support, setting property and life itself as worth naught compared with their honor.
There have been three Carlist pretenders to the throne of Spain. The first was Carlos V., born in 1788. He laid claim to the throne on the death of his brother, Ferdinand VII., in 1833.
Ferdinand had had a stormy reign, torn by dissensions between the court and the popular party. Napoleon compelled him to resign in favor of Joseph Bonaparte, but he returned to the throne of his ancestors upon the fall of Bonaparte. During twenty-eight years he married five wives in succession. By four of these he had no children, but a daughter was born to the last, who had been Princess of Naples. She secured an absolute mastery of the king, who was an imbecile unfitted to reign. The heir apparent to the throne was the grandfather of the present Don Carlos, Carlos V., the brother of Ferdinand. Between Carlos and his brother there had been a long enmity.
Christina used her influence with her husband to persuade him to disinherit his brother. By the Salic law females were excluded from inheriting the throne of France. But through the influence of Ferdinand and his spouse the cortes was persuaded to repeal the law, the more willingly since Carlos was in favor of absolutism, while with a woman as ruler the chances would be better for the perpetuation of constitutionalism. The Carlists claim that during the last days Ferdinand repented his act and issued documents which would have established Carlos’ right to the succession, but that these were suppressed. However that may be, upon the death of Ferdinand his baby daughter was declared Queen of Spain, with her mother as regent.
For five years there was civil war. The youth and weakness of the baby queen proved her strength. The liberals believed that with her as the nominal ruler the continuance of the constitutional monarchy would be assured. For the same reasons France and England supported Isabella. These were odds against which Carlos could not effectually fight, and in 1869 he retreated from Spain, and the historians treat the succession as settled in favor of the young girl, who even at that time was not in her teens.
Queen Isabella’s reign.
Isabella II., or rather her mother, for the latter was the real ruler, did not rule with prudence. Scandals disgraced the reign, and led to the regent’s removal from the regency. Queen Isabella’s ill-fated marriage and other intrigues led to domestic disturbances which kept alive the pretensions of the Carlists.
Upon the death of the first pretender, in 1853, a second arose in the person of his son, Don Carlos, Count de Montemolim. He attempted to cause a revolution in 1860, but was arrested with his brother, and they were not liberated until they had signed a renunciation of their claims to the throne.
The second pretender died in 1861, and then the present Don Carlos arose. He was the son of Don Juan, and a brother of the two who had renounced their claims to the Spanish throne, and he claimed that their renunciation could not be binding on him. This was the Don Carlos who is now the leader of the legitimists, and he has never renounced his claim to the throne of his ancestors.
His name in full is Don Carlos de los Dolores Juan Isidore Josef Francisco Quirino Antonio Miguel Gabriel Rafael. He was born in the little village of Laibach in the Austrian Alps, while his parents were on a journey through the country, and from his infancy his career has been surrounded with a romance which has endeared him to the hearts of his followers. His father, Don Juan, was an exile from Spain and a royal wanderer seeking a place where he could end his life in peace.
He and his wife were befriended by the Emperor Ferdinand of Austria, who placed the young Don Carlos under the care of a Spanish priest, who educated him for the priesthood. Even in his infancy he cared nothing to become a priest in spite of his devout devotion to the Roman Catholic faith, but dreamed of the clay when he would rule as King of Spain.
Don Carlos was only seventeen years of age when he met and fell in love with Margaret, the daughter of the Duke of Parma. She was only fourteen, and the mother of the young prince persuaded them to postpone the marriage for three years. With his wife the pretender received a large fortune and he has been able to maintain a court in the semblance of royalty for several years.
Thirty years ago Carlos might have been king. The crown was then offered him by Prim and Sagasta, who journeyed to London for the purpose. They said it should be his if he would support the liberal constitution proposed for the country and would favor the separation of church and state. It was the latter idea that led to his rejection of the proffered honor. His strict Roman Catholic training made him refuse, for religion was more to him than anything else.
Carlos’ scornful refusal.
“When I come to my throne,” he declared, “I shall rule my land as I see fit.”
These were the words with which he scornfully spurned their offer.
The republicans never forgave him, and later when, after the dethronement of Isabella, his name was again proposed in the cortes by his supporters, Prim and Sagasta were his most bitter enemies.
On Don Carlos’ behalf, insurrections—speedily repressed—took place in 1869 and 1872. But the insurrection headed by him in person in 1873 proved much more formidable and kept the Basque provinces in a great confusion till the beginning of 1876, when it was crushed.
Before the commencement of the war of 1872-76, Don Carlos defined clearly his position and views in various manifestos addressed to the people of Spain. He declared that with him the revolutionary doctrine should have no place. What Spain wanted, said Don Carlos, was that no outrage should be offered to the faith of her fathers, for in Catholicity reposed the truth, as she understood it, the symbol of all her glories, the spirit of all her laws and the bond of concord between all good Spaniards. What Spain wanted was a real king and a government worthy and energetic, strong and respected.
The opportunity for Don Carlos was found in the troublous times that led to and followed the abdication of Amadeo I., Duke of Aosta, who had been elected by the cortes. The four years’ war commenced in spring, 1872, and a year later Amadeo abdicated in a message saying that he saw Spain in a continual struggle, and the era, of peace more distant; he sought remedies within the law, but did not find them; his efforts were sterile.
Thereupon the two chambers combined as the sovereign power of Spain and voted for a republic. The two years of the republic were the stormiest in Spanish history, and it was then that the Carlists made the greatest progress. They numbered probably one-third of the people of Spain. A republic was not suited to the disposition of the Spaniards, and Castelar, who had the helm of the ship of state, gave up his task in disgust. Then Alfonso XII., son of the exiled Isabella, was proclaimed heir to the throne. Alfonso XIII., is his son.
Alfonso XII.’s first task was to suppress the Carlists, and in this he succeeded. The people were tired of the continual strife. Royalists and republicans alike welcomed the new monarch.
The number of his followers gradually dwindling and finding that continued resistance would be unavailable, Don Carlos was finally convinced that it would be useless to continue the struggle. So early in 1876 his army disbanded. Accompanied by his bodyguard he crossed the Pyrenees. As he stepped his foot on French soil he turned as if to bid farewell to Spain, but his last words, energetically pronounced, were: “Volvere, volvere! I will return, I will return!” And it is the belief of his followers that his time is near at hand.
His loyal followers.
No man has more devoted followers. The army that fought for Mm during the Carlist revolution was one of the most heroic that has ever been gathered together. To his standard came young men of good family from every nation. He was regarded as the representative of the old regime of monarchists, and in his ranks were those who hoped for the re-establishment of the now obsolete divine right of kings. He was the head of the house of Bourbon in all Europe. Except for the existence of Maria Theresa, daughter of Ferdinand of Modena, married the Prince Louis of Bavaria, Don Carlos would be the legitimate representative of the royal house of Stuart, and, barring the English act of settlement, King of Great Britain and Ireland.
This fact may have had something to do with the cold shoulder that was turned to him by all of the powers of Europe. Don Carlos was regarded as the representative of the half-dozen pretenders to the throne who live in exile amid little courts of their own and build air castles peopled with things they will do when they mount the thrones of which they believe themselves to have been defrauded.
The Carlists believe that with the support of one of the great governments they would have won. But they could obtain no recognition even of their belligerency, and that was in spite of the fact that, as early as 1873, the president of the Spanish Republic has declared in the cortes: “We have a real civil war. ... It has a real administrative organization and collects taxes. You have presented to you one state in front of another. It is in fact a great war.”
Yet in spite of this declaration and in spite of the fact that the five successive heads of the Madrid government recognized the belligerency of the Carlists by conventions; that treaties were made for the running of railroads and for other purposes, and that the Carlists, had a mint, postoffice and all of the equipments of a regular government, recognition was withheld by the powers. Everything depended upon England, and General Kirkpatrick, a brigadier general in the civil war, who represented the Carlists as charge d’affaires at London, was unable to secure that boon from Gladstone, and none of the continental powers would act until England had led the way.
After his retirement from Spain, when the war had exhausted his resources, Don Carlos lived humbly and quietly at Paris. He had ceased to love his wife and they led a miserable domestic life. He would sell his war horse and fling the money to her on the bare table, telling her to buy bread with it. Then his friends would buy the horse back again. Once he disposed of the badge of the Order of Golden Fleece that had decorated the son of his illustrious ancestor, Charles V. The discreditable part of this action was not so much in the actual act of pawning as that he put the blame for it on an old general who had served him with fidelity for twenty years. He claimed that the general had stolen it, imagining that the old soldier’s devotion to his interests would induce him to remain silent. But the general at once told all of the facts in the case, and also told how Don Carlos had used the money to satisfy the demands of a notorious demi-mondaine.
His financial difficulties came to an end with the death of the Comte and Comtesse de Chambord, who bequeathed the larger part of their immense wealth to their favorite niece, wife of Don Carlos. The duchess kept the money in her own hands, but gave him all he needed. At her death she was quite as provident, leaving the money in trust for her children and giving only a small allowance to her husband, from whom she had lived apart for fifteen years.
Married A fortune.
This threw the pretender again into financial straits, for he has expensive tastes which require a large fortune to support. So he looked around for a bride. His followers were startled to hear of his marriage to the wealthy Princess Marie Berthe de Rohan. The marriage took place April 29, 1894, and, although she was handsome and exceedingly rich and a member of the illustrious Rohan family, which alone of all the noble families of France and Austria has the privilege of calling the monarch cousin—it was regarded as a mesalliance by all of the Carlists in Spain and legitimists everywhere. They believed that Don Carlos should have not married any but the scion of a royal house.
By his first marriage Don Carlos had five children, among them Don Jaime, now in his twenty-eighth year, who is regarded as heir to the throne by the Carlists. Don Jaime is said to possess to a high degree the strength of will and the determined character of his father. He was educated in England and Austria, and is now serving in the Russian army. Military science is his hobby, and he will be able to fight for his throne, as his father has done, if it becomes necessary.
Don Carlos is now in Switzerland, that home of the exiled from other lands, and where he spends his summers. His winter residence is at the Palais de Loredane in Venice.
At the present date the Carlist party is one of the strongest political parties in Spain. This does not appear in the representation in the Spanish cortes, for under the present system the right to exercise the franchise freely is a farce.
There is no doubt that Don Carlos’ popularity is greater than that of the little king. The queen is regarded as a foreigner and the king is too young to awaken any admiration in spite of the fact that every opportunity is taken to make him do so. To popularize the little king the queen regent promenades the poor child through the provinces. He makes childish speeches to the populace, touches the flags of the volunteers and in every way seeks to revive the enthusiasm for the house of Austria. But without avail. The wretched peasants, ground down by taxes, find little to stir them in the sight.
On the contrary, Don Carlos is a great military hero, whose actions have stirred the people to admiration in spite of his many bad qualities.
That the present dynasty will endure when all of the evils from which Spain suffers are considered, seems hard to believe. Unless a miracle happens or the powers bolster up the throne of the little king, the people are likely to turn to Don Carlos for relief. There are those who believe that republicanism is also rampant and that the Carlist agitation masks republican doctrines, and that Weyler will be dictator. This may be. But Don Carlos seems nearer the throne than he has been at any time during his career.
The Philippines, Puerto Rico, and other colonies of Spain.
The Philippines Another Example of the Shocking Misgovernment of Spain’s Outlying Possessions—Interesting Facts About the Philippines—Spanish Oppression and Cruelty—Manila, the Capital of the Islands—Manufactures and Trade of the Eastern Archipelago—Puerto Rico and Its History—The Products and People —Spirit of Insurrection Rife—The Colonies Off the Coast of Africa Where Spain Exiles Political and Other Offenders—The Canaries, Fernando Po and Ceuta.
From the very beginning of our war with Spain the peninsular kingdom had reason to fear that the loss of Cuba would be but one of the disasters to befall it in the war with the United States. It was recognized in all quarters that the Queen Eegent would have been willing to let the Cuban insurrectionists have their island without further protest, had it not been for the fact that giving up probably would have incited an insurrection at home, resulting in a loss of the crown to her son before he should have a chance to wear it.
It was quite well understood as a like probability that the Philippine islands, that splendid colony of Spain in the East Indies, would be lost to Spanish control at the same time, and that the island of Puerto Rico, the last remnant of Spain’s great colonial possessions in the Western hemisphere, after Cuba’s loss, would gain its freedom too. The Queen Regent having spurned the only course in Cuban affairs which the United States would permit, with American war-ships threatening Manila, it became immediately apparent that the other horn of the dilemma which had been chosen was as fatal to Spanish sovereignty as the first would have been.
Even Cuba, with all its abominations, scarcely afforded so remarkable a picture of Spanish oppression, miscalled government, as may be seen in the Philippines. It is only the remoteness and isolation of these unhappy islands that has prevented the atrocities there perpetrated from arousing the indignation of the whole world. Readers are familiar enough with the shocking barbarities practiced in times of disorder by the Spanish authorities, and they do not need to be multiplied here, but in the Philippines is demonstrated the utter incapacity of the Spanish for the exercise of civilized government over a dependent province even in times of so-called peace.
The Philippines are extremely interesting in themselves, but are seldom visited by tourists, partly in consequence of their lying out of the ordinary lines of travel and partly because of the policy of Chinese seclusion cultivated by the government. The climate, too, is unhealthy, even beyond what is usual in the tropics, and the unsettled state of the country, swarming with exasperated savages and bandits of the worst description, makes excursions beyond the limits of the principal cities very perilous. About 600 islands are included in the group, and the total area is considerable—some 150,000 square miles, three or four times that of Cuba, Exact data, however, are difficult to obtain. There are a multitude of insignificant islets hardly known except upon the charts of navigators; but Luzon almost equals Cuba in extent. Altogether the islands probably contain less than 8,000,000 souls; so that Spanish cruelty finds plenty of raw material to work upon.
Characteristics of the population.
And most of it is raw to the last degree—a medley of diverse and hostile races, ranging from the puny and dying remnant of the Negritos, who live like wild beasts in the highlands, subsisting upon the roots which they claw out of the ground, to the fierce and unsubdued Mohammedan tribes that still keep up the bloody war of creeds which raged in Spain itself for so many centuries. These latter are chiefly of Malay origin and many of them are professional head-hunters, well qualified to retort Spanish outrages in kind. There are also Chinese in large numbers and half-castes of all varieties. The proportion of Europeans is small, even in the cities. The resident Spaniards are all soldiers or officials of some sort and are there simply for what they can make by extortion and corrupt practices.
The Philippine islands were discovered in 1521 by Magellan, the circumnavigator, and were conquered by Spain and made a colony in the reign of Philip II., for whom they were named, half a century later. Spanish sway never has extended over more than half of the 1,400 islands of the archipelago, the others remaining under their native wild tribes and Mohammedan rulers. The conjectural area is about 120,000 square miles, and the estimated population about 7,500,000.
The history of the Philippines has included a succession of revolutions against Spanish authority, put down by ferocious warfare and cruelty on the part of the victors. The conversion and subjugation of the islands were not accompanied by quite the horrors that characterized the Spanish conquest of South America, but the record is second only to that. Manila was captured by the English in 1762 and was held by them for two years until ransomed by the Spanish by a payment of 1,000,000 pounds. Contests with rebellious tribes, attacks by pirates, volcanic eruptions, earthquakes and tornadoes help to break the monotony of the history.
Manila, the capital of the colony.
Manila, the capital city of the colony and of Luzon, the largest island, lies 628 miles, or sixty hours’ easy steaming, southeast of Hong-kong, and twice that distance northeast of Singapore. The population of the city is about 330,000, of whom only 10,000— including troops, government officials and clergy—are Europeans, and not more than 500 are English-speaking people. A few American houses have branches in Manila, so that there is an American population of perhaps 100. The city faces a fine bay, into which flows the River Pasig. Most of the Europeans live in Binondo, a beautiful suburb on higher ground, across the river. There are many native dialects, but the social, official and business idiom is Spanish. The army of Spanish civil, religious, military and naval officials is a leech on the people in the same fashion as it was in Cuba. All the places of profit are monopolized by them, appointments to choice offices in the Philippines being given to those whom it is desired to reward for service to the government in Spain. It is quite well understood that such an appointee is expected to gain a fortune as rapidly as he can, by any method possible, so that he may give way for some one else to be brought over from Spain for a similar reward. The policy is the same as the colonial policy of Spain in Cuba was, and the same results have followed.
But, indeed, pillage of the wretched natives is the almost open aim of the government—the sole end for which it is organized and maintained; so why should petty officials be scrupulous? It is the old Roman provincial system, denounced by Cicero 2,000 years ago, but in Spain unforgotten and unimproved. What other use has she for dependencies, except as a source of revenue wrung by torture from the misery of slaves, and incidentally as a battening ground for her savage war dogs? Here the detestable Weyler is said to have accumulated a fortune of several millions of dollars in three years—more than twenty times the whole amount of his salary!
The methods employed in this legalized system of robbery are medieval in character, but often highly ingenious. One of them is the “cedula personal,” a sort of passport. Every person in the islands and over eighteen years of age and accessible to the authorities is required to take out one of these documents; even the women are not exempt. The cedula must be renewed annually and the cost is from $1.50 to $25, according to circumstances—the chief circumstances being the victim’s ability to pay. This in a country where wages sometimes fall as low as five cents a day! And any one who holds a cedula costing less than $3 is further required to render the government fifteen days of unremunerated labor.
Instances of petty extortion.
But the cedula is only one device out of many for extracting gold from the refractory ore of poverty. A hungry native cannot kill his own hog or buffalo for meat without a special permit—which, of course, must be paid for. He is not allowed to press out a pint of cocoanut oil from the fruit of his own orchard until he has obtained a license, and this also has its price. The orchard itself is taxed; everything is taxed in the Philippines.
The resident Chinese are further subjected to a special tax— whether for existing or for not being something else is not stated. They are not popular and are treated with the most shameless injustice. This the following incident will illustrate:
Fires are very frequent in Manila and very destructive, most of the houses being of wood, while the poorer districts are a mere jumble of bamboo huts, thousands of which are sometimes consumed in a day without exciting much comment. A fire in the business portion, however, arouses more interest; it affords opportunities that are not to be neglected. On one such occasion, where the scene of conflagration was a quarter chiefly occupied by Chinese shops, the street was soon thronged with an eager mob. The poor Chinamen, acting much like crazed cattle, had fled into their upper chambers and locked the doors, apparently preferring death by fire to the treatment they were likely to receive outside. But there was no escape.
The “rescuers”—Spanish soldiers—quickly broke in with axes and after emptying the money boxes, hurled the wretched Mongolians and all their goods into the street, to be dealt with at discretion. It was a mere pretext for robbery and outrage, as many of the shops were remote from the fire and in no danger. The next morning the middle of the street was piled high with soiled and broken goods; and any one who cared to bribe the sentries was allowed to carry away as much as he pleased. All day long the carts went to and fro, openly conveying away the plunder. The owners were not in evidence; what had become of them is not recorded. Such is the “fire department” in Manila.
Taxes are imposed for “improvements,” but no improvements are permitted even when backed by foreign capital. The roads remain impassable canals of mud, education is a farce, the introduction of machinery is frowned upon and progress is obstructed.
The natural resources of the Philippines are very good, and under a civilized administration these islands would be rich and prosperous, But the mildew of Spanish misgovernment is upon everything and its perennial blight is far more disastrous than the worst outbreaks of savagery in time of war. His total inability to maintain an endurable government in time of peace is what marks the Spaniard as hopelessly unfit to rule.
Manila has cable connection with the rest of the world, and regular lines of passenger steamers. The European colony has its daily papers, which are, however, under strict censorship, religious and military, and keeps up with the news and the fashions of the day. Until the insurrection of the last two years, the army, except two Spanish brigades of artillery and a corps of engineers, was composed of natives and consisted of seven regiments of infantry and one of cavalry. There was also a body of Spanish militia in Manila, a volunteer corps similar to the one which was always maintained in Havana under Spanish rule, which could be called out by the captain-general in the event of need.
Spain’s feeble control of the islands.
When the latest insurrection began, Spain shipped to its far-off colony all the men who could be spared from service in Cuba, and after a few months of fighting it was announced that the rebellion was crushed. As a matter of fact, however, Spain has control of but a comparatively small part of the islands, and the natives elsewhere are as free from obligation to pay Spanish taxes as they were before the discovery.
Trade restrictions have hampered the commercial progress of the colony, but in spite of that fact their trade with the outside world is a large one. For many years after the conquest but one vessel a year was permitted to ply between Manila and the Spanish-American port of Acapulco. Then the number was increased to five. Then a Spanish chartered company was given a monopoly of the trade of the islands. When that monopoly expired, other houses began business, until finally many large English and German firms shared the trade, while American houses and American ships were by no means at the foot of the list. The total volume of the exports and imports is about $75,000,000 annually.
The manufactures of the Philippines consist chiefly of textile fabrics of pineapple fiber, silk and cotton; hats, mats, baskets, rope, furniture, pottery and musical instruments. Vegetable products of great value are indigo, cocoa, sugar, rice, bamboo, hemp and tobacco. Coffee, pepper and cassia grow wild in sufficient quantity and quality to provide a living for those who wish to take advantage of what nature has provided. Coal, gold, iron and copper are mined with profit. The soil is exceedingly fertile, and although the climate is tropical, with little change except between wet and dry seasons, it has not been
Puerto Rico.
Puerto Rico, the smaller of the two islands which Spain held in the West Indies, was discovered by Columbus in 1493 and occupied by soldiers under Ponce de Leon early in the sixteenth century. It lies well outside the Caribbean sea, in the open Atlantic, and for this reason it is not at all affected climatically, as Cuba is, by proximity to the continent. Its climate is determined mostly by the ocean, whose breezes sweep constantly over the entire island, tempering deliciously the tropical heat, of the sun.
The surface of the island is equally favorable to excellent climatic conditions. It has no mountains, but it has hills that extend from end to end of it and form a perfect watershed and afford drainage for plains and valleys. Thirteen hundred rivers, forty-seven of them navigable, drain 3,500 square miles of territory, a territory as large as the state of Delaware. All over its extent are, besides the principal range of hills that are by some called mountains, round-topped hills of finest soil, which are nearly every one cultivated. In summer the heat is not excessive in the valleys and in winter ice never forms oil the hills. It is a purely agricultural country and the great majority of the natives are farmers. In the population of 810,000 are 300,000 negroes, who are now free, and since their freedom have gone into the towns and cities and found work in the sugar mills and at similar employments.
The native Puerto Ricans adhere to the soil. Their labors are not severe where the soil is loose and rich, as it is every where except near the seashore, and for reasons already stated the climate is very favorable to a comfortable existence. The only drawback perhaps to this comfort for dwellers on the island is lack of substantial bridges over the many streams and the absence of good roads.
There are a number of extensive forests on the island, and while they resemble in their main outlines those of the other West India islands, certain varieties of trees and shrubs exist there that are not seen elsewhere. Baron Eggers, who in 1883 had a coffee farm of 2,000 acres just coming into bearing, found leisure from his other employments to explore some of the forests and—he being an authority on the subject—the facts he discovered and reported have been regarded of interest by travelers and students. He found palms and a strange variety of orchid, but the palms were not so lofty, nor the orchids so rich as they both are on the Caribbean islands. But he found trees of great beauty and great utility in manufactures that are not abundant on the other islands, if, indeed, they are ever found on any of them.
The Baron describes with rapture the sabino, so called by the natives, but by him called the talauma; it is from fifteen to twenty feet high, with spreading branches, having large silvery leaves and bearing immense white, odorous flowers. The hietella is another tree that has remarkable leaves and yields beautiful crimson flowers. He describes still another tree, without naming it, as having orangelike foliage, large purple flowers, and as having in its neighborhood other trees, different from it, but resembling it and evidently allied to it. This tree, he says, is not found elsewhere. Still another tree, the ortegon, whose flowers are purple spikes a yard long, and whose wood is used for timber, is common on the high lands near the coast. And there are dye woods, mahogany and lignum vitae. Hence it is seen that the forests of Puerto Rico are generally beautiful, and strange in some of their features.
The words Puerto Rico are, when translated, Rich Port, and they are very applicable to this snug spot in the Atlantic ocean, only a short distance off the United States coast. Every variety of soil is adapted to the growth of a particular kind of crop. The highest hills, as the lowest valleys, are cultivated with reference to what they will best produce. On the hills, rice; in the valleys, coffee, cotton and sugar cane; on the rising grounds between the valleys and hills, tobacco. Puerto Rico rice, unlike that of the Carolinas, grows on dry lands, even on the highest hills, without watering. It is the staple food of the laborers. The consular report to Washington for 1897 says the product of coffee that year was 26,655 tons; of sugar, 54,205 tons, and of tobacco, 1,039 tons. The number of bales of cotton is not given, but the consul expatiates on its fine quality. The richness of the sugar lands may be judged from this item in the report: “Three hogsheads of sugar is an average yield per acre, without using fertilizers of any kind.”
Puerto Rico is one of the finest grazing countries in the world. Its herds of cattle are immense, and from them are supplied cattle of a superior quality to the other West India islands. Great quantities of hides are shipped to various countries.
Though richly agricultural as the island is, and entitled as it is to be regarded as exclusively agricultural, in past times considerable mining was done there, in gold, copper and salt. Indeed, copper is still mined to a small extent, and salt is still so plentiful that the government finds a profit in monopolizing the sale of it.
Puerto Rico is only 100 miles in length and from fifty to sixty miles in breadth, and as square as a dry-goods box. East and west and north and south its coast lines run almost as regularly as if projected by compass. It is the delight of the sailorrnan, as its fertile soil is the joy of the agriculturist.
The harbor of San Juan is the chief in Puerto Rico, and one of the best of its size in the Caribbean sea. It is safe and sheltered, large and land-locked, and though the entrance is somewhat “foul,” ships drawing three fathoms can enter and find anchorage within, good holding ground being had at any depth up to six fathoms. The bay is broad as well as beautiful, and opens toward the north, so that a vessel laying her course from New York could, if there were no obstructions en route, sail directly into the harbor.
The fortifications which surround the city of San Juan are, like the Spanish pedigrees, ancient, flamboyant, beautiful to look at, but as worthless withal. This city of about 25,000 inhabitants is completely inclosed within imposing walls of stone and hardened mortar from 50 to 100 feet in height. They have picturesque gates and drawbridges, portcullises and demilunes, quaint old sentry boxes projecting into the sea, frowning battlements, and all that; but most of their cannon date back from the last century.
In ancient times the chief fort or castle was called the “morro,” or Moorish tower, because it was generally round; and San Juan, like Havana, has its Morro as the most prominent point of its fortifications. It stands on a bluff jutting out from the city walls and has a lighthouse immediately in the rear of it. Against the seaward front of the massive walls the ocean pounds and thunders, but the landward harbor is quiet and safe for any craft. A broad parade ground is inclosed within the walls, westward from the citadel, and not far off is the oldest house in the city, no less a structure than the ancient castle of Ponce de Leon, one-time governor here and discoverer of Florida. His ashes are also kept here, in a leaden case, for Ponce the Lion-Hearted was a great man in his day and cleaned out the Indians of this island with a thoroughness that earned him an exceeding great reward.
Just under the northern wall of the castle is the public cemetery, the gate to it overhung by an ornate sentry box, and the bones of evicted tenants of graves whose terms of rental have expired, are piled in the corners of the inclosure. The prevailing winds by day are from the sea landward; by night, from the inland mountains toward the coast. Far inland rises the conical summit of the great Luquillo, a mountain about 4,000 feet in height, and from whose sides descend streams that fertilize the island.
It is about ninety miles from San Juan to Ponce, the southern port, by a fine road diagonally across the island. The Spaniards generally are poor road-builders, but in this island they have done better than in Cuba, and one may travel here with a fair amount of comfort to the mile. There are several lines of railroads building, a system being projected around the island 340 miles in length.
The city of Ponce is the largest, with a population of about 38,000 and an export trade of vast extent. It is the chief sugar-shipping point, though it has no good harbor, and lies nearly three miles from the sea. It is a rather fine city, with a pretty plaza and a grand cathedral, and its houses, like those of San Juan, are all built of stone.
Other harbors are: On the east coast, Fajardo and Humacao; on the north, besides San Juan, Arrecibo; on the west, Aguadilla. and Mayaguez, at the former of which Columbus watered his caravels in 1493, and where the original spring still gushes forth.
Going with Puerto Rico are two small islands called Culebra and Vieque, mainly inhabited by fishermen, but with fine forests of dye and cabinet woods to be exploited. The commerce of the island is mainly with the United States. We gained $1,000,000 a year in exports to this island for the last ten years, and nearly $3,000,000 in imports. With a staple government and under wise control, Puerto Rico will more nearly attain to its full productiveness. The annual sugar yield is estimated at near 70,000 tons; that of coffee, 17,000 tons; bananas, nearly 200,000,000; cocoanuts, 3,000,000, and tobacco, 7,000,000 pounds. Gold was originally abundant here, and copper, iron and lead have been found. With enterprise and protection to life and property they will be profitably exploited.
Colonial possessions of Spain.
The loss of Cuba and Puerto Rico did not leave Spain without colonial possessions, as the subjoined table will show:
Area—English
Possessions in Asia square
miles. Population.
Philippine Islands 114,326
7,000,000
Sulu Islands
950 73,000
Caroline Islands and Palaos
560 36,000
Marianne Islands
420 10,172
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Total Asiatic possessions 116,256
7,121,172
Possessions in Africa
Rio de Oro and Adrar
243,000 100,000
Ifni
27 6,000
Fernando Po, Annabon, Corsico, Elobey, San Juan
850 30,000
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Total African possessions
243,877 136,000
The Sulu archipelago lies southwest of the Island of Mindanao, and directly south of Manila and the Mindora sea. The chief island gives its name to the group, which extends to the three-mile limit of Borneo. The area of the whole is estimated at 950 square miles; the population at 75,000 Melanesians.
The Caroline and Marianne, or Ladrone Islands, are more numerous, but scarcely as important or as populous as the Sulu group. They belong to what is sometimes known as Micronesia, from the extreme diminutiveness of the land masses. The two groups are east and northeast of the Philippines, and in easy sailing reach from Manila. From east to west they are spread over 30-odd degrees of longitude, and from north to south over 20 degrees of latitude.
The inhabited islands are of coral formation, generally not over ten or twelve feet above high water mark. They are, in fact, heaps of sand and seaweed blown over the coral reefs. Most of these islands are narrow bands of land from a few yards to a third of a mile across, with a lagoon partly or wholly inclosed by the reef. Cocoanuts and fish are the chief reliance of the natives, who are an inferior species, even for Polynesians.
First and most attractive of the African dependencies, both by reason of natural resources and of their advantages as a naval base, are the Canaries, which are regarded as a part of the Spanish kingdom proper, so long and so secure has been the hold of Spain upon them.
More extensive in area, if not more attractive for residence purposes, is the sandy, partially desert stretch bearing the names of Rio de Oro (River of Gold), and Adrar. The imaginary line familiar to schoolboys under the name of the Tropic of Cancer has an especial fondness for this region, passing near the north and south center. The district is close to the Canaries on its northern edge, and it is ruled by a sub-governor under the Governor of the Canaries. There are two small settlements on the coast The only glory Spain gets from this possession is that of seeing its color mark on the maps of Africa.
Of the other African possessions enumerated some are hardly big enough to be seen on an ordinary map without the aid of a microscope. Corisco is a little stretch of coast around an inlet just south of Cape St. John, near the equator. Fernando Po Island will be found right in the inner crook of the big African elbow. Annabon Island is off Cape Lopez.
Another possession or claim of the decadent peninsula monarchy remains to be catalogued—the country on the banks of the Muni and Campo rivers, 69,000 square miles, and containing a population of 500,000. The title to this section is also claimed by France.
Progress of hostilities.
Eagerness to Fight—Matanzas Bombarded—Weyler’s Brother-in-law a Prisoner of War—The Situation in Havana—Blanco Makes a Personal Appeal to Gomez—The Reply of a Patriot—“One Race, Mankind”—The Momentum of War—Our Position Among Nations.
The striking peculiarity at the commencement of the war was the general eagerness to fight. There have been wars in which there was much maneuvering and blustering, but no coming to blows. There have been campaigns on sea and land in which commanders exhausted the devices of strategy to keep out of each other’s way, but in this war the Americans strained strategy, evaded rules, and sought excuses to get at the Spaniards.
Given a Spanish fortified town and an American fleet, and there was a bombardment on short notice. Given a Spanish fort and a Yankee gunboat, and there was a fight. There were no “all-quiet-on-the-Potomac” or “nothing-new-before-Paris” refrains. The Americans knew they were right, and they went ahead.
Matanzas bombarded.
The first actual bombardment of Cuban forts took place on April 27th at Matanzas, when three ships of Admiral Sampson’s fleet, the flagship New York, the monitor Puritan, and the cruiser Cincinnati, opened fire upon the fortifications. The Spaniards had been actively at work on the fortifications at Punta Gorda, and it was the knowledge of this fact that led Admiral Sampson to shell the place, the purpose being to prevent their completion.
A small battery on the eastern side of the bay opened fire on the New York, and the flagship quickly responded with her heavy guns. Probably twenty-five eight-inch shells were sent from the battery at our ships, but all of them fell short. A few blank shells were also fired from the incomplete battery.
One or two of those whizzed over Admiral Sampson’s flagship. After completing their work the ships put out to the open sea, the flagship returning to its post off Havana, while the Cincinnati and the Puritan remained on guard off Matanzas. While the flagship New York, her sister cruiser, the Cincinnati, and the monitor Puritan were locating the defenses of Matanzas harbor the batteries guarding the entrance opened fire on the New York. Their answer was a broadside from Admiral Sampson’s flagship, the first fire being from the forward eight-inch gun on the port side. The monitor attacked the Point Maya fortification, the flagship went in close and shelled Rubalcaya Point, while the Cincinnati was soon at work shelling the fortification on the west side of the bay. In less than twenty minutes Admiral Sampson’s warships had silenced the Spanish batteries.
The explosive shells from the forts fell wide of the ships. The last one fired from the shore was from Point Rubalcaya. The monitor Puritan let go with a shot from one of her twelve-inch guns, and its effect was seen when a part of the fortification went into the air. The battery at Maya was the stronger of the two and its fire more constant, but all its shells failed to hit our ships.
The target practice of the flagship was an inspiring sight. At every shot from her batteries, clouds of dust and big pieces of stone showed where the Spanish forts were suffering. The New York, after reducing the range from over six thousand to three thousand yards, fired shells at the rate of three a minute into the enemy’s forts, each one creating havoc. The Puritan took equally good care of Point Maya. When she succeeded in getting the range, her gunners landed a shell inside the works at every shot.
When permission was given to the Cincinnati to take part in the first battle between Yankee and Spanish forces, the cruiser came up to within 2,000 yards of the shore, and almost immediately her guns were at work. Cadet Boone on the flagship fired the first gun in answer to the Spanish batteries.
The Spanish mail steamer Argonauta, Captain Lage, was convoyed into Key West harbor by the United States cruiser Marblehead on May 3. Colonel Vicente De Cortijo of the Third Spanish cavalry, who, with nineteen other army officers, was taken on the prize, is a brother-in-law of Lieutenant General Valeriano Weyler. Colonel De Cortijo and the other officers were transferred to the Guido and the privates to the Ambrosio Bolivar, two other trophies of the first week of the war.
The Argonauta herself was no mean prize, being of 1,000 tons burden, but the value of the capture was mainly in the prisoners of war and the mail matter going to General Blanco. Her cargo was general merchandise, with a large quantity of ammunition and supplies for the Spanish troops in Cuba.
The situation in Havana.
A correspondent wrote from Havana, on the 3d of May, as follows:
“The dispatch boat succeeded again to-day in opening communication with Havana, and your correspondent brought away with him the morning papers of yesterday.
“The City of Havana is a sad sight. There are still a few of the reconcentrados about the streets now, but starvation has ended the misery of most of them, and their bones have been thrown into the trenches outside of the city.
“Starvation now faces the Spanish citizens themselves. Havana is a graveyard. Two-thirds of the inhabitants have fled. The other third is beginning to feel the pangs of hunger.
“The prices rival those of Klondike. Beefsteak is $1 a pound. Chickens are $1 each. Flour is $50 a barrel. Everything is being confiscated for Blanco’s army. Sleek, well-fed persons are daily threatened with death to make them divulge the whereabouts of their hidden stores of provisions.
“Several provision stores in the side streets have been broken into and looted. General Blanco is being strongly urged to sink artesian wells to provide water in the event of a siege, as a joint attack by the Cuban and American forces would destroy the aqueduct. It is not thought that Blanco will attempt this, as he will not have sufficient time.
“A bulletin posted on the wall of the palace this morning announced that the mail steamship Aviles from Nuevitasa and the Cosine Herra from Sagua arrived last night. It is also stated that the Spanish brig Vigilante arrived at Matanzas from Montevideo with food supplies for the government.
“The palace of the Captain General is practically deserted since the blockade began. Blanco has personally taken command of Mariena battery, and is directing the erection of new sand batteries all along the water front west of the entrance to Havana Bay. Lieutenant General Perrado is making Guanabacoa his headquarters, and is planting new batteries and strengthening the fortifications as much as possible. Over 300 draymen are engaged in the hauling of sand from the mouth of Almandres for use in the construction of the earthworks along the coast, and in the city suburbs all draymen have been ordered to report for volunteer duty with their drays. The streets are riotous with half-drunken Spanish volunteers crying for American and Cuban blood.
“At night the city is wrapped in darkness, all gas and electric lights being shut off by order of Blanco. Spanish soldiers are taking advantage of this to commit shocking outrages upon unprotected Cuban families. In spite of these direful circumstances Blanco has ordered the decoration of the city, hoping to incite the patriotism of the populace.”
Blanco makes A personal appeal to Gomez.
On May 4 General Blanco made a supreme effort to win over the Cuban forces, writing a letter to General Gomez. A copy of this letter and the answer of General Gomez were found upon Commander Lima, who was picked up by the Tecumseh fifteen miles from Havana. The letter of General Blanco was as follows:
General Maximo Gomez, Commander-in-Chief of the Revolutionary Forces:
Sir—It cannot be concealed from you that the Cuban problem has radically changed. We Spaniards and Cubans find ourselves facing a foreign people of different race, of a naturally absorbent tendency, and with intentions not only to deprive Spain of her flag over the Cuban soil, but also to exterminate the Cuban people, due to its having Spanish blood.
The supreme moment has, therefore, arrived in which we should forget our past misunderstandings, and in which, united by the interests of our own defense, we, Spaniards and Cubans, must repel the invader.
General, due to these reasons, I propose to make alliance of both armies in the City of Santa Clara. The Cubans will receive the arms of the Spanish army, and with the cry of “Viva Espana!” and “Viva Cuba!” we shall repel the invader and free from a foreign yoke the descendants of the same people.
Your obedient servant,
Ramon Blanco.
To this General Gomez replied as follows:
Sir—I wonder how you dare to write me again about terms of peace when you know that Cubans and Spaniards can never be at peace on the soil of Cuba. You represent on this continent an old and discredited monarchy. We are fighting for an American principle, the same as that of Bolivar and Washington.
You say we belong to the same race and invite me to fight against a foreign invader, but you are mistaken again, for there are no differences of races and blood. I only believe in one race, mankind, and for me there are but good and bad nations, Spain so far having been a bad one and the United States performing in these movements toward Cuba a duty of humanity and civilization.
From the wild, tawny Indian to the refined, blond Englishman, a man for me is worthy of respect according to his honesty and feelings, no matter to what country or race he belongs or what religion he professes.
So are nations for me, and up to the present I have had only reasons for admiring the United States. I have written to President McKinley and General Miles thanking them for American intervention in Cuba. I don’t see the danger of our extermination by the United States, to which you refer in your letter. If it be so, history will judge. For the present I have to repeat that it is too late for any understanding between my army and yours.
Your obedient servant,
Maximo Gomez.
One race—mankind.
The reply of Gomez to Blanco will live in history. Blanco’s strange appeal to the Cuban general was characteristic of a Spaniard. It would seem that an intelligent man would not have made such an appeal, well knowing that it would be useless. For three years Gomez had waged what to many seemed to be a hopeless fight. After these years of sacrifice he obtained the United States as an ally,
General Blanco based his appeal upon the claim that the Cuban and the Spaniard belonged to the same race and worshiped at the same shrine. He sought to stir up within Gomez’ breast racial and religious prejudices, and went so far as to suggest that in the event Gomez united his forces with those of Blanco, Spain would give liberty to Cuba, and would “open her arms to another new daughter of the nations of the new world who speak her language, profess her religion and feel in their veins the noble Spanish blood.”
Gomez’ letter was interesting for several reasons. To those who had pictured him as a coarse, illiterate man this letter was a revelation. It was not, however, a surprise to those who had carefully studied Gomez’ career and who understand that he was a scholarly man as well as a thorough soldier.
“I only believe in one race, mankind,” said Gomez, and that sentence will occupy a conspicuous place in the history of this continent.
“From the wild, tawny Indian to the refined, blond Englishman,” said Gomez, “a man for me is respectful according to his honesty and feelings, no matter to what country or race he belongs or what religion he professes. So are nations for me.” Such excellent sentiments were doubtless wasted on the Spaniard, but men of all civilized nations, even we of the United States, may find great value in these splendid expressions by the Cuban general.
The man who believes that there is but one race to whom we owe allegiance, that that race is mankind, and that to that race he owes all allegiance, must have his heart in the right place. The man who discards the consideration of accident of birth and, apart from patriotic affairs, applies the term “comrade” to all of God’s creatures, that man has not studied in vain the purposes of creation. The man who forms his estimate of individuals according to the manhood displayed by the individual, banishing from his mind all racial and religious prejudices, must certainly have studied the lesson of life to good advantage.
“I only believe in one race, mankind.” That is a sentiment that the religious instructors and the sages have endeavored to impress upon us. But the combined efforts of all the instructors and all the sages in teaching of the brotherhood of man have not been so impressive as was the simple statement of this splendid patriot wherein he repelled the temptation to racial and religious prejudice.
Mankind is the race, and the honest man’s the man, no matter to what country he belongs or what religion he professes. That was a sentiment of Maximo Gomez, the Cuban patriot, the clean-cut American, a sentiment to which the intelligence of the world will subscribe and in the light of which prejudice must finally fade away.
The momentum of war.
As far as the American people were concerned, the destruction of the Maine was the beginning of hostilities. The Nation dropped, on the instant, the slow-going habits of peace, and caught step to the intense and swift impulse of war. Great events crowded one another to such an extent that we made more history in sixty days than in the preceding thirty years. The movement was not a wild drifting, but was as straight, swift, and resistless as that of a cannon ball. There was an object in view, and the government and the people went straight at it,
When the Maine was destroyed our navy was scattered, our army was at thirty different posts in as many States, there were no volunteers in the field, no purpose of war in the minds of the people. The Spanish hold on Cuba seemed secure; no one thought of Spain’s yielding Puerto Rico or the Philippine islands. The people could not be brought to serious consideration of the Cuban question, and they were indifferent to the fate of Hawaii. They held back when any one talked of our rights in the Pacific, and had little enthusiasm in the plans to strengthen our navy and our coast defenses. All these questions were urgent, but the people hesitated and Congress hesitated with them.
The explosion that destroyed our battleship and slaughtered our seamen cut every rope that bound us to inaction. In a week the navy was massed for offensive movement. In three weeks $50,000,000 had been placed at the disposal of the President to forward the preparations for national defense. In a month new war vessels had been purchased, the old monitors had been repaired and put in commission, the American liners had been transferred to the navy. In two months war had been declared, the reorganized North Atlantic squadron had blockaded Cuban ports, and the regular army was moving hurriedly to rendezvous in the South. In another week 125,000 volunteers were crowding the State capitals.
Under the momentum of war we swept forward in a few weeks to the most commanding position we had ever occupied among nations. Without bluster or boast we impressed the world with our strength, and made clear the righteousness of our cause. We proved that a republic wedded to peace can prepare quickly for war, and that a popular government is as quick and powerful as a monarchy to avenge insult or wrong.
Sea fight off Manila, Americans victorious.
The Eyes of the World Fixed on the First Great Naval Battle of Our War with Spain—Asiatic Waters the Scene of the Notable Conflict—Importance of the Battle in Its Possible Influence on the Construction of All the European Navies—Bravery of Admiral Dewey and the American Sailors of His Fleet—A Glorious Victory for the Star-Spangled Banner—Capture of Manila and Destruction of the Spanish Fleet.
Seldom has the attention of all the world been so directed upon an expected event in a remote quarter of the globe, as during the few days at the end of April when the American fleet in Asiatic waters was steaming toward an attack on Manila, the capital of the Philippine islands. The eyes of every civilized country were strained to see what would be the result of the encounter which was certain to come.
It was recognized frankly by the authorities on warfare everywhere, that the outcome of this first great naval battle would go far toward deciding the fortunes of the entire war. But the importance of the event from this point of view was less than that from another which interested the governments of all Europe. This first test of the modern fighting machine at sea was expected to furnish lessons by which the merits of such vessels could be definitely judged. It might be that they would prove far less efficient than had been calculated by the lords of the admiralty, and that the millions and millions invested in the fleets of Europe would be found virtually wasted. It was this, quite as much as its bearing on the war, that made universal attention direct itself upon the meeting of the squadrons in the Philippines.
All America rejoiced at the news that came flashing over the cables on Sunday, May 1, when the first word of the battle reached the United States. Even Spanish phrases could not conceal the fact that the encounter had been a brilliant victory for the valor of American sailors, and the strength of American ships. A Spanish fleet of superior size virtually annihilated, a city in terror of capture, the insurgent armies at the gates of Manila, the losses of Spanish soldiers and sailors admittedly great, and finally the sullen roar of discontent that was rising against the government in Madrid—all these things indicated that the victory had been an overwhelming one for the Asiatic squadron under Admiral George Dewey.
As the details of the engagement began to multiply, in spite of Spanish censorate over the cables, which garbled the facts as generously as possible in favor of the Spanish forces, the enthusiasm of the people throughout the cities and villages of America swelled in a rising tide of joy and gratitude for the victory that had been given to them. From Eastport to San Diego, and from Key West to Seattle, flags flashed forth and cheers of multitudes rose toward the sky. Around the newspaper bulletins, throngs gathered to read the first brief reports, and then scattered to spread the news among their own neighbors. Seldom has an event been known so widely throughout the country with as little delay as was this news of an American victory in the antipodes. There was a sense of elation and relief over the result, and an absolute assurance grew in every one’s mind that no reverse to American arms could come in the threatened conflicts ashore or at sea.
A nation in suspense.
But after the first news of victory was received there came a period of delay. It was learned that the cable between Manila and Hongkong had been cut, and the only means of immediate communication was suspended.
Then came fretful days of waiting and not a word further as to the great battle. To add to the anxiety, from time to time came ugly rumors about Admiral Dewey being trapped, and when all the circumstances of the case were considered it is not strange that something like a chill of apprehension began to be felt as to the fate of the American fleet and its gallant commander. Manila bay was known to be mined, and electric connections might again have been made. The guns of the forts on the landlocked bay might not have been silenced, and Spanish treachery and guile might have accomplished what in open battle Spain’s fleet had been unable to do.
But the morning of the 7th of May brought word from Hongkong that sent a thrill of patriotic pride through all America. Our Yankee tars had won the fight, and won it without the loss of a man.
Even those who witnessed the overwhelming victory could scarcely understand how the ships and the men of Admiral Dewey’s vessels came out of the battle unhurt and practically unmarked.
Soon after midnight on Sunday morning, May 1, the American fleet, led by the flagship Olympia, the largest vessel among them, passed unnoticed the batteries which were attempting to guard the wide entrance to the harbor. Each vessel had orders to keep 400 yards behind the preceding one, and as there were nine vessels, including the two transports and colliers Nanshan and Zafiro, in the American fleet, the line was nearly a mile and three-quarters long, and at the rate of steaming it was perhaps three-quarters of an hour from the time the Olympia came within range of the shore batteries until the two transports were safely inside the harbor.
The Olympia, Baltimore, Kaleigh, Petrel and Concord passed in safety and the land batteries might never have suspected the presence of the fleet but for a peculiar accident on the McCulloch. The soot in the funnel caught fire. Flames spouted up from it, and the sparks fell all over the deck. The batteries must have been awake and watching. Five minutes later, or just at 11:50, signals were seen on the south shore, apparently on Limbones point. The flying sparks from this boat made her the only target in the American line. She continued to steam ahead, and at 12:15, May 1, just as she came between the fort at Eestingo and the batteries on the island of Corregidor she was fired upon by the fort at the south.
The Boston, just ahead, had her guns manned and ready, and she responded to the shore fire with great promptness, sending an eight-inch shell toward the curl of smoke seen rising from the battery. This was the first shot fired by the Americans. It was not possible to judge of its effect. There was another flash on shore and a shell went singing past, only a few yards ahead of her bow. If it had struck fairly it would have ripped up the unarmored cutter. This was the McCulloch’s only chance to get into battle. She slowed down and stopped and sent a six-pound shot at the shore battery and followed immediately with another.
The Spaniards answered, but this time the shot went wild. The McCulloch then sent a third shell, and almost immediately, the Boston repeated with one of her big guns. After that the shore battery ceased, and the last half of the fleet steamed into the bay without further interruption. At no time did the batteries on Corregidor fire. All the firing by the Spanish came from the south battery, which was much nearer. Five or six shells were fired by the Americans, and the Spanish shot three times, doing absolutely no damage. There were conflicting reports among the naval officers as to the firing at the entrance to the bay, but it is certain that the McCulloch fired three shots. During this firing, the chief engineer of the McCulloch died of nervous shock.
When Spanish ships were sighted.
After passing through the channel the American line moved very slowly. The men on the McCulloch were in a fighting fever after the brush at the entrance to the harbor, and were expecting every minute to hear cannonading from the heavy ships ahead. The fleet crept on and on, waiting under the cover of darkness, and not certain as to their location or at all sure that they would not run into a nest of mines at any moment.
It was nearly 1 o’clock when they were safely in the bay. Between that hour and 4:30 the fleet, moving slowly in a northeasterly direction, headed for a point perhaps five miles to the north of Manila. After covering about seventeen miles, and with the first light of day, the Spanish ships were sighted off to the east under shelter of the strongly fortified naval station at Cavite. The batteries and the town of Cavite are about seven miles southwest of Manila, and are on an arm of land reaching northward to inclose a smaller harbor, known as Baker bay. From where the fleet first stopped, the shapes of the larger Spanish cruisers could be made out dimly, and also the irregular outlines of the shore batteries behind. It was evident, even to a landsman, that the Spanish fleet would not fight unless our vessels made the attack, coming within range of the Cavite batteries.
The signaling from the flagship and the hurried movement on every deck showed that the fleet was about to attack. In the meantime the McCulloch received her orders. She was to lie well outside, that is, to the west of the fighting line, and protect the two cargo ships, Nanshan and Zafiro. The position assigned to her permitted the American fleet to carry on their fighting maneuvers and at the same time to keep between the Spanish fleet and the three American ships which were not qualified to go into the battle.
Governor-general’s proclamation.
Shortly before 5 o’clock Sunday morning and when every vessel in the fleet had reported itself in readiness to move on Cavite, the crews were drawn up and the remarkable proclamation issued by the governor-general of the Philippine islands, on April 23, was read to the men. Every American sailor went into battle determined to resent the insults contained in the message, which was as follows:
Spaniards! Hostilities have broken out between Spain and the United States. The moment has arrived for us to prove to the world that we possess the spirit to conquer those who, pretending to be loyal friends, have taken advantage of our misfortune and abused our hospitalities, using means which civilized nations count unworthy and disreputable.
The North American people, constituted of all the social excrescences, have exhausted our patience and provoked war with their perfidious machinations, with their acts of treachery, with their outrages against laws of nations and international conventions. The struggle will be short and decisive, the God of victories will give us one as brilliant and complete as the righteousness and justice of our cause demand. Spain, which counts on the sympathies of all the nations, will emerge triumphantly from the new test, humiliating and blasting the adventurers from those states that, with out cohesion and without history, offer to humanity only infamous tradition and the ungrateful spectacle of chambers in which appear united insolence, cowardice and cynicism. A squadron, manned by foreigners possessing neither instructions nor discipline, is preparing to come to this archipelago with the ruffianly intention of robbing us of all that means life, honor and liberty.
Pretending to be inspired by a courage of which they are incapable, the North American seamen undertake as an enterprise capable of realization the substitution of protestantism for the Catholic religion you profess, to treat you as tribes refractory to civilization, to take possession of your riches as if they were unacquainted with the rights of property, and kidnap those persons whom they consider useful to man their ships or to be exploited in agricultural or individual labor. Vain design! Ridiculous boasting! Your indomitable bravery will suffice to frustrate the attempt to carry them into realization. You will not allow the faith you profess to be made a mockery, impious hands to be placed on the temple of the true God, the images you adore to be thrown down by unbelief. The aggressors shall not profane the tombs of your fathers. They shall not gratify their lustful passions at the cost of your wives’ and daughters’ honor or appropriate the property that your industry has accumulated as a provision for your old age. No! They shall not perpetrate the crimes inspired by their wickedness and covetousness, because your valor and patriotism will suffice to punish and abase the people that, claiming to be civilized and cultivated, have exterminated the natives of North America instead of bringing to them the life of civilization and progress. Men of the Philippines, prepare for the struggle, and united under the glorious Spanish flag, which is ever covered with laurels, let us fight with the conviction that victory will crown our efforts, and to the calls of our enemies let us oppose with the decision of the Christian and patriotic cry of “Viva Espana.” Your governor,
Basilio AUGWS’PIN DIVILIO.
Exploding the mines.
If the cry ef “Remember the Maine” were not enough to put the American sailors in a fighting mood as the warships moved forward in battle line, the memory of this insulting proclamation helped to put them on their mettle.
The Olympia headed straight for the Spanish position a few minutes before 5 o’clock. She was moving at moderate speed. The other vessels followed in the same order which had been observed in entering the bay. The Spaniards were impatient and showed bad judgment. At 5:10 o’clock there was a puff of smoke from one of the Cavite batteries and a shell dropped into the water far inshore from the flagship. Several shots followed, but the range was too long. While the American ships continued to crowd on, two uplifts of the water far in the wake of the Olympia, and off at one side, were seen. Two mines had been exploded from their land connections. They did not even splash one of our boats, but those who were watching and following behind, held their breath in dread, for they did not know at what moment they might see one of the ships lifted into the air. But there were no more mines. The Spaniards, in exploding them, had bungled, as they did afterward at every stage of their desperate fighting.
Already there was a film of smoke over the land batteries and along the line of Spanish ships inshore. The roar of their guns came across the water. Our fleet paid no attention.
The Olympia, in the lead, counted ten Spanish warships, formed in a semi-circle in front of the rounding peninsula of Gavite, so that they were both backed and flanked by the land batteries. The ten vessels which made the fighting line were the flagships Eeina Christina, the Castilla, the Antonio de Ulloa, the Isla de Cuba, the Isla de Luzon, the El Correo, the Marquis del Duero, the Velasco, the Gen. Lezo and the Mindanao, the latter being a mail steamer which the Spaniards had hastily fitted with guns. The Castilla was moored head and stern, evidently to give the fleet a fixed spot from which to maneuver, but the other boats were under steam and prepared to move.
The Olympia opened fire for the American fleet when two miles away from the enemy. She began blazing away with her four eight-inch turret guns. The thunders of sound came rolling across the water and the flagships were almost hidden in smoke. Now our ships circled to the north and east in the general direction of the city of Manila. That is, the American fleet circling toward the northeast and further in toward shore all the time, turned and came back in a southwesterly direction, passing in parade line directly in front of the Spanish fleet and batteries, so that the first general broadside was from the port side, or the left of the ships as one stands on the stern and faces the bow. The McCulloch had taken its position so that the fleet, in delivering this first broadside, passed between it and the enemy. The McCulloch and the Nanshan and Zafiro played in behind the heavy line like the backs of a football team.
Having delivered the port broadside, the American fleet turned, heading toward the shore, and moved back toward the northeast, delivering the starboard broadside.
As our ships passed to and fro, the stars and stripes could be seen whirling out from the clouds of smoke, and as the line passed the second and third times without a sign of any ship being injured, the sailors began to feel that the Spaniards were not so formidable after all. Their shots went tearing away over our ships or splashed the water farther in shore. Some of the men who fought at the guns said that after the first general broadside, the sailors laughed at the wild shots, and exposed themselves recklessly, feeling that they were in no particular danger.
The story of the first general engagement is that the Americans moved in front of the Spanish line five times, pouring in broadsides with all the available guns. Each time the fleet drew nearer to shore, and each time the firing became more terribly effective, while the Spaniards failed to improve in marksmanship. Our gunners fired first the port broadsides, then the starboard, then the port again, then the starboard and then the port guns for a third time, and at this last, or fifth, return for an engagement along the line they were within 1,500 yards of the Spanish position. Our whole line was choked with smoke, but still unhurt. The Spanish fleet was already wounded beyond recovery.
Duel of the flagships.
It was during the delivery of this last attack that the Reina Christina made a valiant attack. Up to that time not a Spanish ship had left the line of battle. As the Olympia approached, Admiral Montejo gave orders, and the Reina Christina moved out from the line to engage the big flagship of the American fleet. Admiral Dewey’s boat welcomed the battle. Every battery on the Olympia was turned on the Reina Christina. In the face of this awful fire she still advanced. The American sailors had ridiculed the gunnery of the Spaniards, but they had to admire this act of bravery. She came forward and attempted to swing into action against the Olympia, but was, struck fore and aft by a perfect storm of projectiles. With the Olympia still pounding at her, she swung around and started back for the protection of the navy yard. Just after she had turned a well-aimed shell from one of the Olympia’s eight-inch guns struck her, fairly wrecking the engine-room and exploding a magazine. She was seen to be on fire, but she painfully continued her way toward the shelter of Cavite and continued firing until she was a mass of flames. It was during this retreat that Captain Cadarso was killed. The bridge was shot from under Admiral Montejo. The Spanish sailors could be seen swarming out of the burning ship and into the small boats. Admiral Montejo escaped and transferred his pennant to the Castilla. He had been on the Castilla less than five minutes when it was set on fire by an exploding shell.
Toward the close of the decisive engagement, and just after the Reina Christina had been sent back, hammered to pieces and set on fire, two small torpedo boats made a daring attempt to slip up on the Olympia. A pall of smoke was hanging over the water. Taking advantage of this, they darted out from the Spanish lines and headed straight for the American flagship. They were fully 800 yards in advance of the Spanish line (or more than half of the way toward the Olympia) when they were discovered. Admiral Dewey signaled his men to concentrate all batteries on them. Every gun on the port side of the Olympia was leveled on the two little craft which came flying across the water. A fierce fire was opened, but they escaped the first volley and came on at full speed. The flagship stopped. A second broadside was delivered. The torpedo boats were either injured or else alarmed, for they turned hastily and started for the shore. An eight-inch shell struck one. It exploded and sunk immediately, with all on board. The other, which had been hit, ran all the way to shore and was beached. These were the only two attempts the Spanish made to offer offensive battle.
It would be difficult to describe in detail these first two hours of terrific fighting. The sounds were deafening, and at times the smoke obscured almost the whole picture of battle. The American commander himself could not estimate the injury to the enemy until after he had withdrawn from the first general engagement and allowed the smoke to clear away. Unfortunately, our fleet had no supply of smokeless powder. All during the fighting of Sunday morning, Admiral Dewey stood with Captain Lambertson on the forward bridge of the Olympia. He was absolutely exposed to the heaviest firing, because the Spanish fleet and the land batteries as well continually made a target of our big flagship. Captain Wildes, on the Boston, carried a fan as he stood on the bridge, and at one time drank a cup of coffee while continuing to give orders to his gunners.
It was 7:45 when the American fleet withdrew out of range, not because it had suffered any reverses, but merely to ascertain the damages and hold a consultation.
Not until the commanders had reported to Admiral Dewey did he learn of the insignificant loss which his fleet had sustained. Not one man had been killed and not one vessel was so badly injured but that it was ready to put to sea at once. Through the glasses it could be seen that the Keina Christina and the Castilla were burning. The smaller vessels had taken refuge behind the arsenal at Cavite. The Mindanao had been driven ashore. Already the victory was almost complete. The American sailors were wild with enthusiasm. Although hardly one of them had slept the night before, and they had been fighting in a burning temperature, they were more than anxious to return to the engagement and finish the good work. It was thought best, however, to take a rest for at least three hours. The decks were cleaned and the guns readjusted, and after food had been served to the men, the fleet formed and headed straight for Cavite again. The remnant of the Spanish squadron offered very little resistance, but the forts at Cavite continued their wild efforts to strike an American warship.
Making the second attack.
This time the Baltimore was sent in advance. She headed boldly to within range of the Cavite batteries. By this time the Americans had a contempt for Spanish marksmanship. The Baltimore opened fire and pounded away for thirty minutes. At the end of that time every gun of the batteries had been silenced. Of the Spanish war-ships the Antonio de Ulloa was the only one which came out of refuge to offer battle with the Baltimore and she met with horrible punishment. Her decks were literally swept with shell, but even after she was apparently wrecked her lower guns were used with wonderful persistence.
The Baltimore, having silenced the forts, turned all her guns on the Spanish cruiser and actually riddled her. She sank and all her crew went down with her. That was the end of Spanish resistance. Admiral Dewey ordered his light-draught vessels to enter the navy yard and destroy everything that might give future trouble. The Boston, the Concord and the Petrel were detailed for this duty, but the Boston, drawing twenty feet, ran aground twice, not knowing the shoals, and had to leave the work to the Petrel and Concord. By the time these two vessels reached the navy yard they found the vessels there abandoned and most of them on fire. They destroyed the fag end of the Spanish fleet, and when Sunday afternoon came there was nothing left above water to represent the Spanish naval force in Asiatic waters except the transport Manila. The arsenal had been shelled to pieces.
At 12:45 o’clock the signal was given that the Spanish had surrendered. The word was passed rapidly from ship to ship. The American sailors were crazy with delight. There was tremendous cheering on every ship. The enthusiasm became even greater when the word was passed that not one of our men had been killed and not one American vessel had been injured. The eight men who were hurt by the explosion on the Baltimore continued to fight until the end of the battle. The Boston was struck once and the officers’ quarters set on fire.
For some reason the Spanish gunners seemed to think that the Baltimore was especially dangerous, having the general build of a battleship, and, next to the flagship, she had to withstand the greatest amount of firing, and was struck several times, with no great damage. Except for the torn rigging and a few dents here and there few signs could be discovered that the vessels had engaged in one of the most decisive naval battles of modern times.
The Concord and the Petrel were not hit at all, although the latter went deeper into the enemy’s position than any other vessel in our fleet The Olympia made a glorious record. She was struck thirteen times, counting the shells which tore through her rigging, but she came out as good as she went in.
Loss of the Spanish.
Compared with these trivial losses the damage done to the Spanish was fearful. Five hundred and fifty of them were killed and 625 wounded. Eleven of their ships were totally demolished, and the Americans captured one transport and several smaller vessels. Their money loss by reason of the battle was not less than $5,000,000.
During the naval action a battery of 10-inch guns at Manila opened an ineffectual fire on our fleet as it was moving into action north of Oavite. The admiral did not return’ the fire out of mercy for the people of Manila, as any shots passing over the shore batteries would have landed in a populous portion of the city.
On Monday, May 2, the Kaleigh and Baltimore were sent to demand the surrender of the forts at the mouth of the bay. These forts were taken without resistance. The troops had fled and only the commandant remained to surrender himself.
In regard to the cutting of the cable, Admiral Dewey regarded the action as necessary. He sent word to the governor by the British consul that if he was permitted to send his dispatches to the United States government the cable would not be cut. The governor refused to promise and Admiral Dewey decided to stop all communication between Manila and Madrid.
On Monday, when the cable was cut, the commander established a marine guard at Cavite to protect the hospitals and the Spanish wounded. Surgeons and the hospital corps of the American fleet were detailed to care for the wounded Spaniards, and they cared for them as tenderly as if they were brothers in arms instead of enemies. On Wednesday, May 4, several hundred of the wounded Spaniards were conveyed under the Red Cross flag to Manila and were cared for in the hospitals there.
The Spaniards in Manila no longer feared the Americans, but they were in dread of capture by the insurgents. The rebels were over-running Cavite and pillaging houses. The country back of Manila was full of burning buildings and wrecked plantations. The reckless insurgents were applying the torch right and left.
Admiral MONTEJO’S private papers.
The most interesting capture made by the Americans was a bundle of private papers belonging to Admiral Montejo. One of these communications, bearing his signature, showed that it was his intention to have a general review and inspection of the fleet at 7 o’clock on Sunday morning. This proves that he was not expecting the American fleet so soon.
Other papers showed that it had been his intention at one time to intrust the defense of Manila to the land batteries and take the fleet to Subig bay, north of Manila, believing that he could there take up a strong position and have an advantage over an attacking fleet.
According to the reports from Manila the admiral first went ashore at Cavite and had his wounds dressed. He succeeded in evading the insurgents, who wished to capture him, and arrived in Manila twelve hours after the fight.
There are some very interesting figures as to the amount of firing done by our ships during the battle. The Olympia fired 1,764 shells, aggregating twenty-five tons in weight. The Baltimore did even heavier firing, being called upon to reduce the forts after the first engagement, and sent no less than thirty-five tons of metal into the Spanish ships and the land batteries. The remainder of the fleet shot a total of eighty tons of metal, making a grand total of 140 tons.
The Spanish officers attributed the American victory to the rapidity and the accuracy of our fire rather than to the weight of projectiles used. Also, the fact that the American ships were painted a lead color and did not stand out boldly against the water made them very unsatisfactory targets and kept the Spanish gunners guessing as to the correct range.
In spite of his overwhelming defeat Admiral Montejo did not forget the courtesies of the occasion. On Monday he sent word by the British consul to Admiral Dewey that he wished to compliment the Americans on their marksmanship. He said that never before had he witnessed such rapid and accurate firing. Admiral Dewey, not to be outdone in the amenities of war, sent his compliments to the Spanish admiral and praised the Spaniards very highly for their courage and resistance. He said that the Spanish force was stronger than he had believed it would be before his arrival at the harbor, and he had really expected a shorter and less stubborn battle. It is said that this message, although complimentary to the Spanish, did not give Admiral Montejo any real comfort.
The Spanish ships destroyed were: The Reina Christina, flagship of Admiral Montejo; Cruiser Castilla (wooden); Cruiser Don Antonio de Ulloa; Protected Cruiser Isla de Luzon; Protected Cruiser Isla de Cuba; Gunboat General Lezo; Gunboat Marquis del Duero; Gunboat El Cano; Gunboat El Velasco; the Steamer Mindanao, with supplies, burned.
These were captured: Transport Manila, with supplies; Gunboat Isabella I; Cruiser Don Juan de Austria; Gunboat Rapido; Gunboat Hercules; two whaleboats; three steam launches.
Secretary Long sent this dispatch immediately to Acting Admiral Dewey:
The President, in the name of the American people, thanks you and your officers and men for your splendid achievement and overwhelming victory. In recognition he has appointed you Acting Admiral, and will recommend a vote of thanks to you by Congress as a foundation for further promotion.
Dewey’s new rank.
The Senate unanimously confirmed the President’s nomination making George Dewey a rear admiral in the United States navy. Congress made the place for him, and the President promoted him.
He bears on his shoulders two stars and an anchor instead of two anchors and a star. His pay has been increased from $5,000 a year to $6,000 a year, while at sea and until he retires. He was presented with a sword, and medals were struck for his men. His elevation in rank, his increase in pay, are gratifying tributes to his greatness. But there is a rank to which the President could not elevate him, a position that Congress could not create, for he created it himself. In the hearts of the people Admiral Dewey is the Hero of Manila, holding a place prouder than a king’s, a place in the love and admiration and gratitude of a great nation.
Greater than Farragut, greater than Hull, greater than Hawke or Blake or Nelson, Dewey is the greatest of fleet commanders, the grandest of the heroes of the sea. It will be recorded of him that he was faithful to duty, true to his flag, magnanimous to his enemies and modest in the hour of triumph.
Hawaii, and our annexation policy.
Location of the Islands—Their Population—Honolulu, the Capital and the Metropolis—Political History—The Traditional Policy of the United States—Former Propositions for Annexation— Congressional Discussion—The Vote in the House of Representatives—The Hawaiian Commission.
A work of this character would be incomplete without mention of the Hawaiian Islands, and their intimate political and commercial connection with our own country. For many years prior to the commencement of the war with Spain there had been a growing sentiment in favor of their annexation to the United States, and events in Washington during the first month of that conflict showed conclusively that a large majority of the members of both houses of Congress were strongly in favor of the measure.
The Hawaiians are a group of eight inhabited and four uninhabited islands lying in the North Pacific Ocean, distant from San Francisco about 2,100 miles, from Sidney 4,500 miles, and from Hongkong 4,800 miles. They are the most important in the Polynesian group, and were discovered by Captain Cook in 1788. Their combined area is 6,640 square miles, and their population is about 85,000. The islands are to a great extent mountainous and volcanic, but the soil is highly productive. Sugar, rice, and tropical fruits grow in abundance, and over ninety per cent of the trade is with the United States.
Fortunes easily made.
The world knows comparatively nothing about the great fortunes that have been amassed in Hawaii in the last thirty years. The children of the Yankee missionaries who sailed from Boston and Gloucester around the Horn to carry the gospel to the Sandwich islands in the ’30s and ’40s are the richest and most aristocratic people in Honolulu. For mere songs the sons of missionaries obtained great tracts of marvelously fertile soil for sugar planting in the valleys of the island, and with their natural enterprise and inventive spirit they developed the greatest sugar cane plantations in the world.
When the United States gave a treaty to the Hawaiian kingdom putting Hawaiian raw sugar on the free tariff list, the profits of the sugar planters went up with a bound. For twenty-five years the dividends of several of the Yankee companies operating sugar plantations and mills on the islands ranged from 18 to 30 per cent a year. The Hawaiian Commercial Sugar Company paid 25 per cent dividends annually from 1870 to 1882. The world has never known productiveness so rich as that of the valleys of Maui and Hawaii for sugar cane. The seed had only to be planted and the rains fell and nature did the rest. One tract of 12,000 acres of land on Maui was given to a young American, who married a bewitching Kanaka girl, by her father, who was delighted to have a pale-faced son-in-law. It was worth about $200 at the time. The tract subsequently became a part of a great sugar plantation. It was bought by Claus Spreckels for $175,000 and is worth much more than that now. The Spreckles, Alexander, Bishop, Smith and Akers accumulated millions in one generation of sugar cultivation in the Hawaiian islands.
Hundreds of volcanoes.
The volcanoes of Hawaii are a class by themselves. They are not only the tallest, but the biggest and strangest in the whole world. Considering that they reach from the bottom of the Pacific ocean (18,000 feet deep here) to over 15,000 feet above sea level, they really stand 33,000 feet high from their suboceanic base to their peaks. The active craters on the islands number 300, but the dead craters, the ancient chimneys of subterranean lava beds, are numbered by the thousands. The islands are of lavic formation. Evidences of extinct volcanoes are so common that one seldom notices them after a few weeks on the islands. Ancient lava is present everywhere. The natives know all its virtues, and, while some ancient deposits of lava are used as a fertilizer for soils, other lava beds are blasted for building material and for macadamizing roads. Titanic volcanic action is apparent on every side. Every headland is an extinct volcano. Every island has its special eruption, which, beginning at the unfathomable bottom of the sea, has slowly built up a foundation and then a superstructure of lava. On the island of Hawaii and on Molokai are huge cracks several thousands of feet deep and many yards wide which were formed by the bursting upward of lava beds ages and ages ago. The marks of the titanic force are plainly visible.
Mark Twain is authority for saying that the two great active volcanoes, Mauna Loa and Kilauea, on the island of Hawaii, are the most interesting in the world. Certainly they are the most unique. Mauna Loa is 14,000 feet above sea level. Every six or seven years there is an eruption from its sides and several times the flow of lava has threatened the ruin of the town of Hilo, thirty miles away. The crater on Mauna Loa is three miles in diameter and 600 feet deep. Over the crater hangs an illuminated vapor which may be seen at night over 200 miles distant. When Mauna Loa is in violent eruption a fountain of molten lava spouts every minute over 250 feet in the air, bursting into 10,000 brilliantly colored balls, like a monstrous Roman candle pyrotechnic.
Then there is Kilauea—a shorter and flatter volcanic mountain sixteen miles distant. It has the greatest crater known—one nine miles across and from 300 to 800 feet deep. And such a crater! In it is a literal lake of molten lava all the time. At times the lava is over 100 feet deep and at other times it is 200 feet, according to the pressure on it deep in the bowels of the earth. Signs of volcanic activity are present all the time throughout the depth of the molten mass in the form of steam, cracks, jets of sulphurous smoke and blowing cones. The crater itself is constantly rent and shaken by earthquakes. Nearly all tourists go to see the marvelous eruptions on Mauna Loa and Kilauea. Hotels have been built on the mountain sides for the accommodation of sightseers, and there are plenty of guides about the craters.
Oahu has many places of interest outside of Honolulu. One may visit the sugar plantations, rice farms, and may go to Pearl harbor or the Punchbowl. The latter is an extinct volcano rising a few hundred feet above the town. Another resort is the Pali, the highest point in the pass through the range of mountains that divides Oahu. It is the fashion, and a very good fashion it is, to see the Pali and praise its charms. It is the Yosemite of Hawaii. The view from this height sweeps the whole island from north to south. In the direction of the capital the land slopes to a level two miles from the sea and then spreads flatly to the shore. The hillsides are not, as a rule, in a state of cultivation, although the soil is fertile. The land is now cumbered with wild guava, which bears fruit as big as the lemon, and with the lantana, the seeds of which are scattered broadcast by an imported bird called the minah. On the lower ground small farmers, mostly orientals, make their homes, and there are several cane plantations.
Honolulu, the capital and chief city, has a population of about 25,000, and presents more of the appearance of a civilized place than any other town in Polynesia. Although consisting largely of one-story wooden houses, mingled with grass huts half smothered by foliage, its streets are laid out in the American style, and are straight, neat and tidy. Water-works supply the town from a neighboring valley, and electric lights, telephones, street car lines, and other modern improvements are not lacking.
The arrangement of the streets in Honolulu reminds many Americans of those in Boston or the older part of New York. All the streets are narrow, but well kept, and, with a few exceptions, they meander here and there at will. A dozen thoroughfares are crescent shaped and twist and turn when one least expects. All the streets are smooth and hard under a dressing of thousands of wagon loads of shells and lava pounded down and crushed by an immense steam roller brought from San Francisco.
The independence of the islands declared.
In 1843 the independence of the Hawaiian Islands was formally guaranteed by the English and French governments, and for a number of years they were under a constitutional monarchy. On the death of King Kalakaua in 1891, his sister, the Princess Liliuokalani, succeeded to the throne, and soon proved herself to be an erratic and self-willed ruler. She remained constantly at variance with her legislature and advisers, and in January, 1893, attempted to promulgate a new constitution, depriving foreigners of the right of franchise, and abrogating the existing House of Nobles, at the same time giving herself power of appointing a new House. This was resisted by the foreign element of the community, who at once appointed a committee of safety, consisting of thirteen members, who called a mass meeting of their class, at which about 1,500 persons were present. The meeting unanimously adopted resolutions condemning the action of the Queen, and authorizing a committee to take into further consideration whatever was necessary to protect the public safety.
The committee issued a proclamation to the Hawaiian people, formed itself into a provisional government, took possession of the national property, and sent commissioners to the United States inviting this republic to annex the islands. The United States did not respond, but continued the old relation of friendly guarantor.
A constitutional convention held session from May 20 to July 3,1894, and on July 4 the constitution was proclaimed, the new government calling itself the “Republic of Hawaii.”
In refusing to grant this appeal for annexation, the officials at the head of the United States government at that time were of the opinion that such action would be in direct opposition to our traditional policy, and the same argument has since been advanced by the opponents of the plan.
We were thus brought face to face with the question, “What is American policy?” Many statesmen of recent years have declared that our great growth and increasing importance among nations imposed obligations which should force us to take greater part in the affairs of the world. Following the lead of European statecraft, they also asserted that we should adopt this policy to encourage and protect our expanding commercial interests. Not only were we facing problems the war directly presented, but other nations seemed to think that we were about to cast aside the advice of Washington concerning entangling alliances, and establish the relation of an ally with Great Britain.
Edward Everett foresaw the extension of the republican idea, and declared that “in the discharge of the duty devolved upon us by Providence, we have to carry the republican independence, which our fathers achieved, with all the organized institutions of an enlightened community—institutions of religion, law, education, charity, art and all the thousand graces of the highest culture— beyond the Missouri, beyond the Sierra Nevada; perhaps in time around the circuit of the Antilles, perhaps to the archipelagoes of the central Pacific.”
The treaty of 1783 with Great Britain defined the western boundary of the United States as the Mississippi river, down to the Florida line on the 31st parallel of north latitude. The original colonies comprised less than half of this area, the rest being organized several years later as the Northwest Territory. In 1803 the United States purchased from Napoleon for $15,000,000 the province of Louisiana, over 1,000,000 square miles in area, including Louisiana, Missouri, Arkansas, the Indian Territory, most of Kansas, Nebraska, Iowa, Minnesota, the two Dakotas, Montana, Colorado, Idaho, Oregon, Washington and most of Wyoming. With this cession came absolute ownership and control of the Mississippi.
By the treaty of February 12, 1819, with Spain, Florida was next acquired, and Spain abandoned all claims upon the territory between the Kocky mountains and the Pacific, embraced in the Louisiana purchase. Texas was annexed in 1845. Under the treaty of Guadaloupe Hidalgo, in 1848, which ended the Mexican war, California, Nevada, parts of Colorado and Wyoming, Utah, New Mexico and Arizona became a part of the United States, The Gadsden purchase of 1853 acquired the portion of this territory south of the Gila river. Fourteen years later the territory of Alaska was purchased from Russia,
Territorial acquisition has been the policy of successive periods of American politics. Hitherto annexation has been confined to contiguous territory, except in the case of Alaska, separated only by narrow stretches of sea and land. But in the case of the Hawaiian Islands an entirely different problem confronted us.
Hawaiian annexation in history.
The question of annexation of the Hawaiian Islands has been before the American people in some form for nearly fifty years. In 1851 a deed of provisional cession of the islands to the United States was executed by King Kamehameha Ill., and delivered to the United States Minister at Honolulu—the act being subsequently ratified by joint resolution of the two Houses of the Hawaiian Legislature. In 1854 a formal treaty of annexation was negotiated between King Kamehameha and the Hon. David L. Gregg, in the capacity of commissioner, and acting under special instructions of Secretary Marcy, then Secretary of State under President Pierce. The King died, however, before the engrossed copy of the treaty had been signed, which prevented the completion of the act. But for this there is every reason to believe that annexation would have been an accomplished fact at that time, as the administration of President Pierce was thoroughly committed to it. The policy then distinctly enunciated was not to have the islands come in as a State but as a Territory.
President Grant was a zealous advocate of annexation, and in 1874 a reciprocity treaty with the islands was entered into by Secretary Fish, under which the Hawaiian government bound itself not to “lease or otherwise dispose of or create any lien upon any port, harbor, or other territory ... or grant any special privilege or right of use therein to any other government,” nor enter into any reciprocity treaty with any other government. Thirteen years later (1887), under the administration of President Cleveland, there was a renewal of this treaty, to which was added a clause giving to the United States authority for the exclusive use of Pearl River (or harbor) as a coaling and repair station for its vessels, with permission to improve the same. Article IV of this treaty bound the respective governments to admit certain specified articles free of duty and contained the following provision:
“It is agreed, on the part of his Hawaiian Majesty, that so long as this treaty shall remain in force he will not lease or otherwise dispose of or create any lien upon any port, harbor, or other territory in his dominions, or grant any special privilege or rights of use therein, to any other power, state, or government, nor make any treaty by which any other nation shall obtain the same privileges, relative to the admission of any articles free of duty, hereby secured to the United States.”
This treaty was to remain in force seven years (until 1894), but, after that date, was declared to be terminable by either party after twelve months’ notice to that effect.
There have been two treaties relating to annexation before Congress within the last five years, the first negotiated by Secretary of State John W. Foster during the administration of President Harrison in 1893, the other by Secretary Sherman under the McKinley administration on the 16th day of June, 1897. The first was withdrawn by President Cleveland after his accession to the Presidency. Both were ratified by the Hawaiian Legislature in accordance with a provision of the constitution of the republic, and that body, by unanimous vote of both Houses, on May 27, 1896, declared:
“That the Legislature of the republic of Hawaii continues to be, as heretofore, firmly and steadfastly in favor of the annexation of the Hawaiian Islands to the United States of America, and in advocating such policy it feels assured that it is expressing not only its own sentiments but those of the voters of this republic.”
The necessity for a closer relation of the two republics than that provided for by a commercial treaty, terminable at the pleasure of either, has been recognized by nearly every President and Secretary of State from John Tyler down to President McKinley, by none more strongly than by Daniel Webster in 1851 and by Secretary Marcy in 1854, while like views have been favored by Secretaries Seward, Fish, Bayard, Foster, and Sherman since.
The strategic value of the islands in case of war and their commercial value at all times are so bound up together that it is impossible to separate them. The former has been testified to by such eminent military and naval authorities as General J. M. Schofield and General Alexander of the United States army and Captain A. T. Mahan, Admiral Belknap, Admiral Dupont, and George W. Mellville, Engineer in Chief of the United States navy, and many others. Their commercial value is demonstrated by the fact that their trade with the United States for the fiscal year, ending June, 1897 (amounting to $18,385,000), exceeded that with either of the following States and confederations: Argentina, Central America, Spain, Switzerland, Venezuela, Russia, or Denmark; was more than twice that with Colombia or Sweden and Norway; nearly three times that with Chile; four times that with Uruguay; nearly four times that with Portugal; nearly seven times that with Turkey; ten times greater than that with Peru, and greater than that of Greece, Peru, Turkey, Portugal, and Sweden and Norway combined.
Vote for annexation.
By a vote of 209 to 91 the House of Eepresentatives on the afternoon of June 15 adopted the Newlands resolutions, providing for the annexation of Hawaii. The debate, which was continued without interruption for three days, was one of the most notable of Congress, the proposed annexation being considered of great commercial and strategic importance by its advocates, and being looked upon by its opponents as involving a radical departure from the long-established policy of the country and likely to be followed by the inauguration of a pronounced policy of colonization, the abandonment of the Monroe doctrine and participation in international wrangles. More than half a hundred members participated in the debate.
Notable speeches were made by Messrs, Berry, Smith and Hepburn for, and by Messrs. Johnson and Williams against the pending measure. Few members were upon the floor until late in the afternoon and the galleries had few occupants. As the hour of voting drew near, however, members began taking their places and there were few more than a score of absentees when the first roll call was taken. The announcement of the vote upon the passage of the resolutions was cheered upon the floor and applauded generally by the spectators.
The resolutions adopted in a preamble relate the offer of the Hawaiian republic to cede all of its sovereignty and absolute title to the government and crown lands, and then by resolution accept the cession and declare the islands annexed. The resolutions provide for a commission of five, at least two of whom shall be resident Hawaiians, to recommend to Congress such legislation as they may deem advisable. The public debt of Hawaii, not to exceed $4,000,000, is assumed, Chinese immigration is prohibited, all treaties with other powers are declared null, and it is provided that until Congress shall provide for the government of the islands all civil, judicial and military powers now exercised by the officers of the existing government shall be exercised in such manner as the President shall direct, and he is given power to appoint persons to put in effect a provisional government for the islands.
Mr. Fitzgerald spoke against the Newlands resolutions. In the course of his speech he emphasized the failure of the majority of Hawaiians to express their desire relative to annexation. He insisted that every people had the right to the government of their choice. Speaking further, Mr. Fitzgerald opposed annexation on the ground that an injurious labor element would be brought into competition with American laborers.
Supporting the resolution Mr. Berry devoted much of his time to showing that annexation was in line with democratic policy. He reviewed the territorial additions to the original states to show that practically all had been made by democrats.
Mr. Berry digressed to speak of the Philippine situation, and while not advocating the retention of the islands he declared the United States should brook no interference upon the part of Germany. He said America should resent any intervention with all her arms and warships. Mr. Berry’s remarks in this connection were applauded generously.
William Alden Smith, member of the committee on foreign affairs, advocating annexation, said:
“Annexation is not new to us. In my humble opinion the whole North American continent and every island in the gulf and the Caribbean sea and such islands in the Pacific as may be deemed desirable are worthy of our ambition. Not that we are earth hungry, but, as a measure of national protection and advantage, it is the duty of the American people to lay peaceful conquest wherever opportunity may be offered.
“It has been argued that our constitution makes no provision for a colonial system, but if President Monroe had been merely a lawyer, if he had contented himself by looking for precedent which he was unable to find, if he had consulted the jurisprudence of his time and planned his action along academic lines the greatest doctrine ever announced to the civilized world, which now bears his name, though in unwritten law, but in the inspiration, the hope, the security of every American heart, would have found no voice potent enough and courageous enough to have encircled the western hemisphere with his peaceful edict.
“Precedent, sir, may do for a rule of law upon which a fixed and definite superstructure must be built, but it is the duty of statesmanship to cease looking at great public questions with a microscope and sweep the world’s horizon with a telescope from a commanding height.”
Mr. Johnson then was recognized for a speech in opposition. He laid down the three propositions that annexation was unnecessary as a war measure in the present conflict with Spain; that annexation was unnecessary to prevent the islands from falling into the hands of some other power to be used against us, and that the proposition to annex was inherently wrong and was the opening wedge upon an undesirable and disastrous policy of colonization.
Advancing to the danger of annexation being the first step in colonization, he said gentlemen could not deny that the holding of the Philippines was contemplated already. What was more deplorable and significant, he said, was the expressed fear of the President lest Spain should sue for peace before we could secure Puerto Rico. Mr. Johnson said men were already speaking disparagingly of the Cubans and their capacity for government, and it was useless to attempt to hide the truth that American eyes of avarice were already turned to Cuba, although but two months since action was taken to free and establish that island as independent.
Reply by Mr. Dolliver.
Mr. Dolliver, speaking in support of the resolutions, complimented the speech of the Indiana member, but suggested its success as an applause-getter would be greater than as a maker of votes.
“I cannot understand,” declared Mr. Dolliver, “how a man who distrusts everything of his own country can fail utterly to suspect anything upon the part of other great powers of the world.” Concluding, Mr. Dolliver refuted the charge that annexationists had any hidden motives looking to colonial expansion. As to the future of the Philippines, Cuba and Puerto Rico, he declared that he knew nothing, but he had faith that in the providence of God the American people would be guided aright and these questions would be met and disposed of properly when occasion should arise.
Mr. Cummings, in a ten-minute speech, supported annexation and indulged in severe denunciation of former President Cleveland for his effort to re-establish the monarchy in Hawaii and the hauling down of the American flag by Commissioner Blount.
Mr. Hepburn was recognized to conclude in support of the resolutions. He believed the people of the country were familiar with the issue involved, and the time was opportune for a vote and final action. Answering the claim that annexation would mean launching upon colonization, he disavowed any such understanding. He said he hoped to see every Spanish possession fall into the possession of this country in order to contribute to the enemy’s injury, and that being accomplished the question of their disposition would arise and be met when the war should end.
The House resolution extending the sovereignty of the United States over Hawaii was adopted in the Senate by a vote of forty-two to twenty-one, and President McKinley’s signature added that country to our possessions. The President appointed as commissioners to visit the islands and draw up for the guidance of Congress a system of laws for their government, the following gentlemen: Senator Shelby M. Cullom, of Illinois; Senator John T. Morgan, of Alabama; Representative Robert R. Hitt, of Illinois; President Sanford B. Dole, of Hawaii; Justice W. F. Frear, of Hawaii.
Continued success for American soldiers and sailors.
The Bombardment of San Juan—The Engagement at Cardenas—The Voyage of the Oregon—The Battle at Guantanamo—Santiago Under Fire—Landing the Troops in Cuba—The Charge of the Rough Riders —The Sinking of the Merrimac—The Destruction of Cervera’s Fleet— The Fall of Santiago.
On the morning of May 12, a portion of the fleet, commanded by Admiral Sampson, made an attack on the forts of San Juan de Puerto Rico. The engagement began at 5:15 a. m. and ended at 8:15 a. m. The enemy’s batteries were not silenced, but great damage was done to them, and the town in the rear of the fortifications suffered great losses. The ships taking part in the action were the Iowa, Indiana, New York, Terror, Amphitrite, Detroit, Montgomery, Wampatuck, and Porter.
At 3 o’clock in the morning all hands were called on the Iowa, a few final touches in clearing ship were made, and at 5 “general quarters” sounded. The men were eager for the fight.
The tug Wampatuck went ahead and anchored its small boat to the westward, showing ten fathoms, but there was not a sign of life from the fort, which stood boldly against the sky on the eastern hills hiding the town.
The Detroit steamed far to the eastward, opposite Valtern. The Iowa headed straight for the shore. Suddenly its helm flew over, bringing the starboard battery to bear on the fortifications.
At 5:16 a.m. the Iowa’s forward twelve-inch guns thundered out at the sleeping hills, and for fourteen minutes they poured starboard broadsides on the coast. Meanwhile the Indiana, the New York, and other ships repeated the dose from the rear. The Iowa turned and came back to the Wampatuck’s boat and again led the column, the forts replying fiercely, concentrating on the Detroit, which was about 700 yards away, all the batteries on the eastward arm of the harbor. Thrice the column passed from the entrance of the harbor to the extreme eastward battery.
Utter indifference was shown for the enemy’s fire. The wounded were quickly attended, the blood was washed away, and everything proceeded like target practice.
Morro battery, on the eastward arm of the harbor, was the principal point of attack. Bear Admiral Sampson and Captain Evans were on the lower bridge of the Iowa and had a narrow escape from flying splinters, which injured three men. The Iowa was hit eight times, but the shells made no impression on its armor. The weather was fine, but the heavy swells made accurate aim difficult.
The broadsides from the Iowa and Indiana rumbled in the hills ashore for five minutes after they were delivered. Clouds of dust showed where the shells struck, but the smoke hung over everything. The shells screeching overhead and dropping around showed that the Spaniards still stuck to their guns.
The enemy’s firing was heavy, but wild, and the Iowa and New York were the only ships hit. They went right up under the guns in column, delivering broadsides, and then returned. The after-turret of the Amphitrite got out of order temporarily during the engagement, but it banged away with its forward guns. After the first passage before the forts, the Detroit and the Montgomery retired, their guns being too small to do much damage. The Porter and Wampatuck also stayed out of range. The smoke hung over everything, spoiling the aim of the gunners and making it impossible to tell where our shots struck. The officers and men of all the ships behaved with coolness and bravery. The shots flew thick and fast over all our ships.
The men of the Iowa who were hurt during the action were injured by splinters thrown by an eight-inch shell, which came through a boat into the superstructure, and scattered fragments in all directions. The shot’s course was finally ended on an iron plate an inch thick.
At 7:45 a. m. Admiral Sampson signaled “Cease firing.” “Retire” was sounded on the Iowa, and it headed from the shore.
After the battle was over Admiral Sampson said:
“I am satisfied with the morning’s work.
I could have taken San
Juan, but had no force to hold it. I merely wished
to punish the
Spaniards, and render the port unavailable as a refuge
for the
Spanish fleet. I came to destroy that fleet and
not to take San
Juan.”
The man killed by the fire from the forts was Frank Widemark, a seaman on the flagship New York. A gunner’s mate on the Amphitrite died during the action from prostration caused by the extreme heat and excitement.
The Iowa, Indiana, New York, Terror, and Amphitrite went close under the fortifications after the armed tug Wampatuck had piloted the way and made soundings.
The Detroit and Montgomery soon drew out of the line of battle, their guns being too small for effective work against fortifications.
Three times the great fighting ships swung past Morro and the batteries, roaring out a continuous fire. Whenever the dense smoke would lift, great gaps could be seen in the gray walls of Morro, while from the batteries men could be seen scurrying in haste.
The Spanish fire was quick enough, but ludicrously uncertain. This was shown after Admiral Sampson had given the order to cease firing and retire. The monitor Terror evidently misunderstood the order, for it remained well in range of the Spanish guns and continued the bombardment alone. The few guns still served by the Spaniards kept banging away at the Terror, and some of the shots missed it at least a mile. It remained at its work for half an hour before retiring, and in all this time was not once hit.
The first Americans killed.
America’s first dead fell on the 11th of May in a fierce and bloody combat off Cardenas, on the north coast of Cuba. Five men were blown to pieces and five were wounded on the torpedo boat Winslow. The battle was between the torpedo boat Winslow, the auxiliary tug Hudson, and the gunboat Wilmington on one side, and the Cardenas batteries and four Spanish gunboats on the other. The battle lasted but thirty-five minutes, but was remarkable for terrific fighting. The Winslow was the main target of the enemy, and was put out of service. The other American vessels were not damaged, except that the Hudson’s two ventilators were slightly scratched by flying shrapnel. The Winslow was within 2,500 yards of the shore when the shells struck. How it came to be so close was told by its commander, Lieutenant John Bernadou. He said:
“We were making observations when the enemy opened fire on us. The Wilmington ordered us to go in and attack the gunboats. We went in under full steam and there’s the result.”
He was on the Hudson when he said this, and with the final words he pointed to the huddle of American flags on the deck near by. Under the Stars and Stripes were outlined five rigid forms.
List of the killed: Worth Bagley, ensign; John Daniels, first-class fireman; John Tunnel, cabin cook; John Varveres, oiler. The wounded: J. B. Bernadou, lieutenant, commanding the Winslow; R. E. Cox, gunner’s mate; D. McKeowan, quartermaster; J. Patterson, fireman; F. Gray.
The story of the fight, as told by the Hudson’s men, is as follows:
The Winslow, the Hudson, the Machias, and the Wilmington were among the ships off Cardenas on the blockade, the Wilmington acting as flagship. The Machias lay about twelve miles out. The others were stationed close in, on what is called the inside line. At a quarter to 9 o’clock the Hudson, under Captain F. H. Newton, was taking soundings in Diana Cay bars and Romero Cay, just outside Cardenas, so close to shore that it grounded, but it floated off easily into the shallow water.
At half past 11 the Wilmington spoke the Hudson and the Winslow and assigned them to duty, the Winslow to start to the eastern shore of, Cardenas Bay and the Hudson to the western shore, while the Wilmington took its station in mid-channel. This work occupied two hours. Nothing was discovered on either shore, and the boats were approaching each other on their return when a puff of smoke was observed on shore at Cardenas, and a shell whistled over them. The Winslow was on the inside, nearer the shore. The Hudson and the Winslow reported to the Wilmington, and orders came promptly to go in and open fire; but the Spaniards had not waited for a reply to their first shot. The Cardenas harbor shore had already become one dense cloud of smoke, shot with flashes of fire and an avalanche of shells was bursting toward the little Winslow:
This was at five minutes past 2 o’clock, and for twenty minutes the firing continued from the shore without cessation, but none of the shots had at that time found their mark, though they were striking dangerously near. Meanwhile the Hudson’s two six-pounders were banging away at a terrific rate. How many of the torpedo boat’s shots took effect is not known. The first two of the Hudson’s shells fell short, but after these two every one floated straight into the smoke-clouded shore. The Spaniard’s aim in the meantime was improving and it was presently seen that two empty barks had been anchored off shore. It was twenty-five minutes before 3 o’clock when a four-inch shell struck the Winslow on the starboard beam, knocking out its forward boiler and starboard engine and crippling the steering gear, but no one was injured.
Lieutenant Bernadou was standing forward watching the battle with calm interest and directing his men as coolly as if they were at target practice. By the one-pounder amidships stood Ensign Bagley, the oiler, the two firemen, and the cook. The little boat gasped and throbbed and rolled helplessly from side to side. Lieutenant Bernadou did not stop for an examination. He knew his boat was uncontrollable. The Hudson was a short distance off still pounding away with her guns. It was hailed and asked to take the Winslow in tow. It was a vital moment. Guns roared from shore and sea. Lieutenant Scott, in charge of the Hudson’s aft gun, sat on a box and smoked a cigarette as he directed the fire.
Captain Newton stood near Lieutenant Meed at the forward gun and watched its workings with interest. Chief Engineer Gutchin never missed his bell. A group of sailors was making ready to heave a line to the Winslow, and Ensign Bagley and his four men stood on the port side of the latter vessel, waiting to receive it. A vicious fire was singing about them. The Spaniards seemed to have found the exact range.
Killed by A bursting shell.
There was a momentary delay in heaving the towline, and Ensign Bagley suggested that the Hudson’s men hurry. “Heave her,” he called. “Let her come; it’s getting pretty warm here.” The line was thrown and grabbed by the Winslow’s men. Grimy with sweat and powder, they tugged at it and drew nearer foot by foot to the Hudson. Almost at the same instant another four-inch shell shrieked through the smoke and burst directly under them. Five bodies went whirling through the air. Two of the group were dead when they fell—Ensign Bagley and Fireman Daniels. The young ensign was literally disemboweled, and the entire lower portion of the fireman’s body was torn away. The other three died within a few minutes. A flying piece of shrapnel struck Lieutenant Bernadou in the thigh and cut an ugly gash, but the Lieutenant did not know it then. With the explosion of the shell the hawser parted and the Winslow’s helm went hard to starboard, and, with its steering gear smashed, the torpedo boat floundered about in the water at the mercy of the enemy’s fire, which never relaxed.
The fire of the Americans was of the usual persistent character, and the nerve of the men was marvelous. Even after the Winslow’s starboard engine and steering gear were wrecked the little boat continued pouring shot into the Spaniards on shore until it was totally disabled.
Meanwhile the Wilmington from its outlying station was busy with its bigger guns and sent shell after shell from its four-inch guns crashing into the works on shore, and their execution must have been deadly. Not a fragment of shot or shell from the enemy reached the Wilmington.
The Hudson quickly threw another line to the Winslow, and the helpless torpedo boat was made fast and pulled out of the Spaniards’ exact range. The tug then towed it to Piedras Cay, a little island twelve miles off, near which the Machias lay. There it was anchored for temporary repairs, while the Hudson brought the ghastly cargo into Key West, with Dr. Kichards of the Machias attending to the wounded. Not until this mournful journey was begun was it learned that Lieutenant Bernadou had been injured. He scoffed at the wound as a trifle, but submitted to treatment and is doing well.
When the Hudson drew up to the government dock at Key West the flags at half mast told the few loiterers on shore that death had come to some one, and the bunting spread on the deck, with here and there a foot protruding from beneath, confirmed the news. Ambulances were called and the wounded were carried quickly to the army barracks hospital. The dead were taken to the local undertaker’s shop, where they lay all day on slabs, the mutilated forms draped with flags. The public were permitted to view the remains, and all day a steady stream of people flowed through the shop.
The American boats made furious havoc with Cardenas harbor and town. The captain of the Hudson said:
“I know we destroyed a large part of their town near the wharves, burned one of their gunboats, and I think destroyed two other torpedo destroyers. We were in a vortex of shot, shell and smoke, and could not tell accurately, but we saw one of their boats on fire and sinking soon after the action began. Then a large building near the wharf, I think the barracks, took fire, and many other buildings were soon burning. The Spanish had masked batteries on all sides of us, hidden in bushes and behind houses. They set a trap for us. As soon as we got within range of their batteries they would move them. I think their guns were field pieces. Our large boats could not get into the harbor to help us on account of the shallow water.”
Amid a perfect storm of shot from Spanish rifles and batteries the American forces made an attempt to cut the cables at Cienfuegos, on the 11th of May. Four determined boat crews, under command of Lieutenant Winslow and Ensign Magruder, from the cruiser Marblehead and gunboat Nashville, put out from the ships, the coast having previously been shelled, and began their perilous work. The cruiser Marblehead, the gunboat Nashville and the auxiliary cruiser Windom drew up a thousand yards from shore with their guns manned for desperate duty.
One cable was quickly severed and the work was in progress on the other when the Spaniards in rifle pits and a battery in an old lighthouse standing out in the bay opened fire. The warships poured in a thunderous volley, their great guns belching forth massive shells into the swarms of the enemy. The crews of the boats proceeded with their desperate work, notwithstanding the fact that a number of men had fallen, and, after finishing their task, returned to the ships through a blinding smoke and a heavy fire. Two men were killed, and seven wounded by the fire of the enemy. Captain Maynard had a narrow escape from death. A rifle shot hit his side close to the heart, but caused only a flesh wound and he kept at his post to the end. The officers of the Windom were enthusiastic over the work of the men in the launches. They fired in regular order and shot well. The Windom demolished the lighthouse, which was in reality a fort, and not one stone was left standing upon another.
On May 14 Admiral Sampson ordered Captain Goodrich to cut the French cable running from Mole St. Nicholas, Hayti, to Guantanamo, Cuba, about thirty miles to the eastward of Santiago. In compliance with this order the St. Louis and the Wampatuck appeared off Guantanamo about daylight, and the Wampatuck, with Lieutenant Jungen in command and Chief Officer Seagrave, Ensign Payne, Lieutenant Catlin and eight marines and four seamen on board, steamed into the mouth of the harbor, and, dropping a grapnel in eight fathoms of water, proceeded to drag across the mouth of the harbor for the cable.
About 150 fathoms of line were run out when the cable was hooked in fifty fathoms of water. This time the lookout reported a Spanish gun-boat coming down the harbor and a signal was sent to the St. Louis, lying half a mile outside. She had already discovered it, and immediately opened fire with her two port six-pounders. The Wampatuck then commenced firing with her one three-pounder. The gunboat, however, was out of range of these small guns and, the shells fell short.
The Spaniards opened fire with a four-inch gun, and every shot went whistling over the little Wampatuck and struck in the water between her and the St. Louis. Being well out of range of the six-pounders the gunboat was perfectly safe, and she steamed back and forth firing her larger guns. For about forty minutes the tug worked on the cable, while the shells were striking all around her, but she seemed to bear a charmed life.
Captain Goodrich, seeing that he could not get the gunboat within range of his small guns, while that vessel could easily reach the St. Louis and Wanipatuck with her heavier battery, signaled the tug to withdraw. The grappling line was cut and both vessels steamed out to sea, leaving the cable uncut.
As the tug turned and started out it was noticed that riflemen on shore were firing at her. Lieutenant Catlin opened up with the Gatling gun mounted aft and the Spaniards on shore could be seen scattering and running for shelter. The French cable was cut the next morning off Mole St. Nicholas, well outside of the three-mile limit.
Lieutenant Catlin was formerly on the battleship Maine, and perhaps he took more than ordinary interest in firing his guns.
“You could tell by the grim smile on his face as he fired each shot,” one of his brother officers said, “that he was trying to ‘get even,’ as far as lay in his power, for the awful work in Havana harbor.”
Second call for volunteers.
The President issued a proclamation calling for 75,000 more volunteers on May 25. This made the total army strength, regular and volunteer, 280,000.
The official call issued by the President in the form of a proclamation was as follows:
Whereas, An act of Congress was approved on the 25th day of April, 1898, entitled “An act declaring that war exists between the United States of America and the kingdom of Spain,” and,
Whereas, By an act of Congress, entitled “An act to provide for temporarily increasing the military establishment of the United States in time of war and for other purposes,” approved April 22,1898, the President is authorized, in order to raise a volunteer army, to issue his proclamation calling for volunteers to serve in the army of the United States,
Now, therefore, I, William McKinley, President of the United States, by virtue of the power vested in me by the constitution and the laws and deeming sufficient occasion to exist, have thought fit to call forth, and hereby do call forth, volunteers to the aggregate number of 75,000 in addition to the volunteers called forth by my proclamation of the 23d day of April, in the present year; the same to be apportioned, as far as practicable, among the several States and Territories and the District of Columbia, according to population, and to serve for two years unless sooner discharged. The proportion of each arm and the details of enlistment and organization will be made known through the war department.
In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.
Done at the city of Washington, this 25th day of May, in the year of our Lord, 1898, and of the independence of the United States, the 122d.
William McKINLEY.
By the President, William K. Day, Secretary of State.
Running down his prey.
Four weeks after the victory of Rear-Admiral Dewey at Manila, Commodore Schley, in command of the flying squadron, had his shrewdness and pertinacity rewarded by finding the Spanish fleet in the harbor of Santiago de Cuba.
For ten days he had, in the face of conflicting rumors, insisted that the ships of Spain were trying to make a landing on the southern coast of Cuba. This was evidently not in consonance with certain official information and his opinion was not given much weight.
The captain of the British steamer Adula, who was interviewed at Cienfuegos, told of seeing the Spanish fleet in the vicinity of Santiago de Cuba, evidently awaiting an opportunity to get in. Captain Sigsbee of the St. Paul related how he had captured a Spanish coal vessel going into the harbor of Santiago, and Commodore Schley argued from these two incidents that the fleet of Spain was waiting in some haven near by until such time as a visit, fruitless in its results, should be made there by the Americans when, upon their departure, the Spanish fleet would run in.
Consequently, Commodore Schley determined to find it. Himself in the lead with the flagship, he started toward the harbor. The Spanish troops at the works and batteries could be seen, through glasses, preparing in haste to give the American ships as warm a reception as possible.
When about five miles from the batteries the lookouts reported the masts of two ships, and Flag Lieutenant Sears and Ensign McCauley made out the first to be the Cristobal Colon. Two torpedo boats were also made out and a second vessel of the Vizcaya class was seen.
All this time Commodore Schley was upon the afterbridge of the Brooklyn making good use of his binoculars. Arrived at the harbor entrance, when the ships were sighted from the deck, he turned his eyes from the glasses long enough to wink and say: “I told you I would find them. They will be a long time getting home,”
The voyage of the Oregon.
The voyage of the Oregon from San Francisco to Florida is a matter of historic interest, for it was the first craft of the kind to weather the famous cape. When it anchored off Sand Key, Fla., it had completed the longest trip ever made by a battleship. Altogether she sailed 18,102 miles in eighty-one days, and this includes the days she spent in coaling. Prior to this trip the record for long voyages had been held by a British flagship, which steamed from England
Hobson Wins fame.
On Thursday, June 2, Admiral Sampson decided to send the collier Merrimac into the bay of Santiago and sink it in the channel’s narrowest part, for the purpose of holding Cervera and his fleet in the harbor, until the time when their capture or destruction seemed advisable. He called for volunteers, explaining that it was a desperate mission, death being almost certain for all those who ventured in.
Then the navy showed the stuff of which it is made. Admiral Sampson wanted eight men. He could have had every officer and man in the fleet, for all were more than ready. Lieutenant Eichmond P. Hobson was selected to command the expedition, and Daniel Montague, George Charette, J. C. Murphy, Osborn Deignan, George F. Phillips, Francis Kelly and B. Clausen were detailed to accompany him.
Just before 3 o’clock on the morning of the 3d the collier, deeply laden with, ballast material and some coal, was headed without preliminary maneuver straight for the entrance, over which the remaining batteries from Morro frowned from one side, and those from Socapa from the other. In the darkness of the early morning the Merrimac, without a light showing anywhere, dashed within the line of the forts before it was discovered, Sampson’s ships thundering at the enemy’s batteries to divert their attention from the collier. The Spaniards soon detected it, however, and brought every possible gun to bear. In the face of a terrific fire of shot and shell from Spanish guns the Merrimac ran into the narrow channel, where it was swung across and anchored. Then Lieutenant Hobson blew a hole in the ship’s bottom and with his seven men took to a boat. They first made an effort to row out of the harbor and regain the American fleet, but soon realizing that, to attempt to pass the aroused batteries would mean certain death to all, they turned and rowed straight towards the Spanish squadron, and surrendered to Admiral Cervera, who held them as prisoners of war.
The Spanish commander sent his chief of staff, Captain Oviedo, under a flag of truce to Admiral Sampson, bearing the information of the safety of the heroes. The Spanish officers were enthusiastic in their praise of the bravery shown by Hobson and his men, and looked upon them with amazement as heroes whose gallantry far exceeded any Spanish conception of what men might do for their country, and it was with great chagrin that Admiral Cervera was prevented by the Madrid authorities from returning the heroic young officer and his brave men to Admiral Sampson, but was compelled to deliver them to the military authorities ashore as prisoners of war.
Thrown into A dungeon by Linares.
General Linares, with the brutal instinct that had marked his conduct of Cuban affairs already intrusted to him, deliberately placed Hobson and his men in Morro Castle as a shield against the fire of Sampson’s squadron. Here Hobson was locked up for five days in solitary confinement in a filthy dungeon under conditions which must have soon resulted in his serious illness and perhaps in death. The treatment he received and the scanty food given him were no better than that accorded to a common criminal condemned to execution.
This punishment, however, was of short duration on account of the vigorous protest which was made through a neutral power to Spain, coupled with Admiral Sampson’s notice to the Spanish admiral that he would be held personally responsible for Hobson’s welfare. Under these circumstances Admiral Cervera interposed his influence with General Linares; and Hobson, with his men, was transferred to the barracks in the city. Here his solitary confinement continued, but he could look out of a window to the hills on the east and see the smoke from the American rifles of General Shatter’s men firing from their intrenchments with the consolation that his captivity would be of short duration.
After the assault on Santiago arrangements were made by the commanders of the two armies for the exchange of Lieutenant Hobson and his men for Spanish prisoners held by the Americans, and a truce was established for that purpose. The place selected for the exchange was under a tree between the American and Spanish lines, two-thirds of a mile beyond the intrenchments occupied by Colonel Wood’s Bough Eiders, near General Wheeler’s headquarters, and in the center of the American line.
The American prisoners left the Keina Mercedes hospital on the outskirts of Santiago de Cuba, where they had been confined, in charge of Major Irles, a Spanish staff officer, who speaks English perfectly.
The prisoners were conducted to the meeting place on foot, but were not blindfolded. Colonel John Jacob Astor and Lieutenant Miloy, accompanied by Interpreter Maestro, were in charge of the Spanish prisoners. These consisted of Lieutenants Amelio Volez and Aurelius, a German, who were captured at El Caney, and Lieutenant Adolfo Aries and fourteen non-commissioned officers and privates. Lieutenant Aries and a number of the men were wounded in the fight at El Caney. The Spanish prisoners were taken through the American lines mounted and blindfolded.
The meeting between Colonel Astor and Major Irles was extremely courteous, but very formal, and no attempt was made by either of them to discuss anything but the matter in hand. Major Irles was given his choice of three Spanish lieutenants in exchange for Hobson, and was also informed that he could have all of the fourteen men in exchange for the American sailors. The Spanish officers selected Lieutenant Aries, and the other two Spanish officers were conducted back to Juragua.
It was then not later than 4 o’clock, and just as everything was finished and the two parties were separating Irles turned and said, courteously enough, but in a tone which indicated considerable defiance and gave his hearers the impression that he desired hostilities to be renewed at once:
“Our understanding is, gentlemen, that this truce comes to an end at 5 o’clock.”
Colonel Astor looked at his watch, bowed to the Spanish officer, without making a reply, and then started back slowly to the American lines, with Hobson and his companions following.
The meeting of the two parties and the exchange of prisoners had taken place in full view of both the American and Spanish soldiers who were intrenched near the meeting place, and the keenest interest was taken in the episode.
Santiago under fire.
On the morning of June 6 the American fleet engaged the Spanish batteries defending the entrance of the harbor of Santiago de Cuba, and, after three hours’ bombardment, silenced nearly all the forts, destroyed several earthworks, and rendered the Estrella and Cayo batteries, two of the principal fortifications, useless.
The fleet formed in double column, six miles off Morro Castle, at 6 o’clock in the morning, and steamed slowly 3,000 yards off shore, the Brooklyn leading, followed by the Marblehead, Texas and Massachusetts, and turned westward. The second line, the New York leading, with the New Orleans, Yankee, Iowa and Oregon following, turned eastward.
The Vixen and Suwanee were far out on the left flank, watching the riflemen on shore. The Dolphin and Porter did similar duty on the right flank. The line headed by the New York attacked the new earthworks near Morro Castle. The Brooklyn column took up a station opposite the Estrella and Catalina batteries and the new earthworks along the shore.
The Spanish batteries remained silent. It is doubtful whether the Spaniards were able to determine the character of the movement, owing to the dense fog and heavy rain which were the weather features this morning.
Suddenly the Iowa fired a twelve-inch shell, which struck the base of Estrella battery and tore up the works. Instantly firing began from both Rear-Admiral Sampson’s and Commodore Schley’s column, and a torrent of shells from the ships fell upon the Spanish works. The Spaniards replied promptly, but their artillery work was of a poor quality and most of their shots went wild. Smoke settled around the ships in dense clouds, rendering accurate aiming difficult. There was no maneuvering of the fleet, the ships remaining at their original stations, firing steadily. The squadrons were so close in shore that it was difficult for the American gunners to reach the batteries on the hilltops, but their firing was excellent.
Previous to the bombardment, orders were issued to prevent firing on Morro Castle, as the American Admiral had been informed that Lieutenant Hobson and the other prisoners of the Merrimac were confined there. In spite of this, however, several stray shots damaged Morro Castle somewhat.
Commodore Schley’s line moved closer in shore, firing at shorter range. The Brooklyn and Texas caused wild havoc among the Spanish shore batteries, quickly silencing them. While the larger ships were engaging the heavy batteries, the Suwanee and Vixen closed with the small in-shore battery opposite them, raining rapid-fire shots upon it and quickly placing the battery out of the fight.
The Brooklyn closed to 800 yards and then the destruction caused by its guns and those of the Marblehead and Texas was really awful. In a few minutes the woodwork of Estrella fort was burning and the battery was silenced, firing no more during the engagement. Eastward the New York and New Orleans silenced the Cayo battery in quick order and then shelled the earthworks located higher up. The practice here was not so accurate, owing to the elevation of the guns. Many of the shells, however, landed, and the Spanish gunners retired.
Shortly after 9 o’clock the firing ceased, the warships turning in order to permit the use of the port batteries. The firing then became a long reverberating crash of thunder, and the shells raked the Spanish batteries with terrific effect. Fire broke out in Catalina fort and silenced the Spanish guns. The firing of the fleet continued until 10 o’clock, when the Spanish ceased entirely, and Admiral Sampson hoisted the “Cease firing” signal.
After the fleet retired the Spaniards returned to their guns and sent twelve shots after the American ships, but no damage was done. In fact, throughout the entire engagement none of our ships was hit and no American was injured.
One purpose of Admiral Sampson, it appears, was to land troops and siege guns at Aguadores, after reducing the defenses of the place, and then make a close assault upon Santiago, which, in view of the present condition of its fortifications, may be expected to yield soon.
A landing of American troops was effected near Baiquiri, some distance east of Aguadores, and near the railroad station connecting with Santiago de Cuba. Later an engagement took place between the American force and a column of Spanish troops which had been sent against the landing party. The Spaniards were driven back.
The marines at Guantanamo.
Lieutenant-Colonel R. W. Huntington’s battalion of marines landed from the transport Panther on Friday, June 10, and encamped on the hill guarding the abandoned cable station at the entrance to the outer harbor of Guantanamo. On Saturday afternoon a rush attack was made on them by a detachment of Spanish regulars and guerrillas, and for thirteen hours the fighting was almost continuous, until re-enforcements were landed from the Marblehead.
The engagement began with desultory firing at the pickets, a thousand yards inland from the camp. Captain Spicer’s company was doing guard duty and was driven in, finally rallying on the camp and repulsing the enemy at 5 o’clock. The sky was blanketed with clouds, and when the sun set a gale was blowing out seaward. Night fell thick and impenetrable. The Spanish squads concealed in the chaparral cover had the advantage, the Americans on the ridge furnishing fine targets against the sky and the white tents.
The Spaniards fought from cover until midnight, discoverable only at flashes, at which the marines fired volleys. Shortly after midnight came the main attack. The Spaniards made a gallant charge up the southwest slope, but were met by repeated volleys from the main body and broke before they were one-third of the way up the hill; but they came so close at points that there was almost a hand-to-hand struggle. The officers used their revolvers. Three Spaniards got through the open formation to the edge of the camp. Colonel Jose Campina, the Cuban guide, discharged his revolver, and they, finding themselves without support, beat a hasty retreat down the reverse side of the hill. During this assault Assistant Surgeon John Blair Gibbs was killed. He was shot in the head in front of his own tent, the farthest point of attack. He fell into the arms of Private Sullivan and both dropped. A second bullet threw the dust in their faces. Surgeon Gibbs lived ten minutes, but he did not again regain consciousness. Four Americans were killed and one wounded in this engagement.
Sunday brought no rest. Every little while the p-a-t of a Mauser would be heard, and a spatter of dust on the camp hillside would show where the bullet struck. During the day the enemy kept well back, scattering a few riflemen through the trees to keep up a desultory fire on the camp. There was no massing of forces, evidently for fear of shells from the Marblehead, which lay in the harbor close by. But when night came on again the Spanish forces were greatly augmented and in the dark were bolder in their attacks.
Lieutenant Neville was sent with a small squad of men to dislodge the advance pickets of the enemy, and his men followed him with a will. The Spaniards, who had been potting at every shadow in the camp, fled when the American pickets came swinging down their way. As the Americans pressed along the edge of the steep hill, following a blind trail, they nearly fell into an ambush. There was a sudden firing from all directions, and an attack came from all sides.
Sergeant-Major Henry Good was shot through the right breast and soon died. The Americans were forced back upon the edge of the precipice and an effort was made to rush them over, but without success. As soon as they recovered from the first shock and got shelter in the breaks of the cliff their fire was deadly. Spaniard after Spaniard went down before American bullets and the rush was checked almost as suddenly as it was begun, causing the enemy to fall back. The Americans swarmed after the fleeing Spaniards, shooting and cheering as they charged, and won a complete victory. The Spanish forces left fifteen dead upon the field. The American loss was two killed and four wounded.
The night attack was picturesque, and a striking spectacle—the crack of the Mausers, tongues of fire from every bush encircling the camp, the twitter of the long steel bullets overhead, while the machine guns down on the water were ripping open the pickets, and the crash of the field guns could be heard as they were driving in canister where the fire of the Spaniards was the thickest. Then there was the screech of the Marblehead’s shells as she took a hand in the fight, and the sharp, quick flashing of the rapid-firing one-pounder guns from the ships’ launches.
On Tuesday the brave marines, who had been exposed for three days and nights to the fire of a foe they could but blindly see, weary of a kind of warfare for which they were not trained, went into the enemy’s hiding place and inflicted disastrous punishment. The primary object of the expedition was to destroy the tank which provided the enemy with water. There are three ridges over the hills between the camp from which the Americans and their Cuban allies started and the sea. In the valley between the second and third was the water tank. The Spanish headquarters were located at cross-roads between the first and second ridges, and it was against this place that a detachment of fifty marines and ten Cubans under Lieutenants Mahoney and Magill was sent. Their instructions were to capture and hold this position. Captain Elliot with ninety marines and fifteen Cubans went east over the last range of hills, and Captain Spicer with the same number of men went to the west. A fourth party of fifty marines and a Cuban guide under command of Lieutenant Ingate made a detour and secured a position back of Lieutenant Mahoney.
The first fighting was done by the men under Lieutenant Magill with the second platoon of Company E. These parted from the others, going over the first hill to the second one. They had advanced but a short distance when they came to a heliograph station guarded by a company of Spaniards. Shooting began on both sides, the Mausers of the Spanish and the guns of the Americans snapping in unison. Our men had toiled up the hillside in the boiling sun, but they settled down to shooting as steadily and as sturdily as veterans could have done. The skirmish lasted fifteen minutes. At the end of this time the Spaniards could no longer stand the methodical, accurate shooting of Magill’s men, and they ran helter-skelter, leaving several dead upon the field. Lieutenant Magill took possession of the heliograph outfit without the loss or injury of a man.
But this was in truth only a skirmish, and the real fighting was at hand. Captains Spicer and Elliot and Lieutenant Mahoney led their men up the second range of hills. A spattering of bullets gave note that the news of their coming was abroad, but they toiled up to the top of the hill. Here they found the Spanish camp situated on a little ridge below them. There was one large house, the officers’ quarters, and around this was a cluster of huts, in the center of which was the water tank which they had come to destroy. Quickly they moved into line of battle, and advanced down the mountain, the enemy’s bullets singing viciously, but going wildly about them.
Gradually the Americans and Cubans descended the slope, shooting as they went, and closing in upon the enemy in hiding about the huts and in the brush. Then the order came to make ready for a bayonet charge, but it had scarcely been given when the Spaniards broke from cover and ran, panic-stricken, for a clump of brush about one hundred yards further on. Then there was shooting quick and fast. There were dozens of Spanish soldiers who did not reach the thicket, for the American fire was deadly, and man after man was seen to fall.
The fighting blood of the Americans was up. Elliot’s command made straight for the thicket to which the Spanish had fled, routed them out, and drove them on before. Up the ridge they forced them, shooting and receiving an answering fire all the way. Pursuers and pursued moved on over the crest of the hill, and there the Spaniards received a new surprise. Lieutenant Magill and his men had made a detour and were waiting for them. As the enemy came within rifle shot over the hill and started to descend Lieutenant Magill’s men emptied their rifles. The Spanish turned back dismayed, and wavered for a time between the two fires of our troops, uncertain which way to turn. Then they assembled at the top of the hill. This was a fatal mistake, for the Dolphin had taken up a position to the sea side of the hills in the morning, and the moment her commander espied the Spaniards on the summit of the ridge he opened fire upon them.
The slaughter was terrific, but it is but just to record the fact that the enemy made a brave fight. They would not surrender, and made an attempt to fight their way along the summit of the ridge, but they were routed and ran in all directions to escape.
While the Americans were destroying the blockhouse, tank and windmill the Cubans rounded up a Spanish lieutenant and seventeen privates. These were spared and compelled to surrender. The lieutenant gave the Spanish loss in the battle at sixty-eight killed and nearly 200 wounded. Not an American was killed, and no one seriously wounded.
Transports filled with troops.
After weeks of waiting and preparation the first army of invasion to start from the eastern shores of the United States departed under the command of General Shatter on the morning of June 14 at 9 o’clock. The fleet of transports consisted of thirty-five vessels, four tenders and fourteen convoys. The actual embarkation of the troops began on Monday, June 6. The work proceeded diligently until late on Wednesday afternoon, when, after the departure of several vessels, an important order came, calling a halt in the proceedings. The alleged cause of the delay was the report that the Hornet while out scouting had sighted several Spanish war vessels.
Like a wet blanket came the order to halt. Cheerfulness was displaced by keen disappointment. Two questions were on every tongue—“Has Spain surrendered?” “Has our fleet met with a reverse?” The former met with the readiest belief, many believing the words in the order “indefinitely postponed” meant peace.
General Miles and his staff went to Port Tampa Sunday morning at 6:30’ to deliver parting instructions. During a heavy rain squall on Saturday night at 8 o’clock while the transports were straining at their cables the little tug Captain Sam steamed from ship to ship megaphoning the order: “Stand ready to sail at daylight.” Above the roar of the storm wild cheers were heard and a bright flash of lightning revealed the soldiers standing in the rain waving their wet hats and hurrahing. When the morning broke, piers were lined with transports, the docks were crowded with box cars, flat cars, stock cars, baggage and express cars. Most of these were crowded with soldiers who were cheered until their ears ached, and who cheered in return until hoarse.
Bright-colored dresses and fragile parasols in the crowds of blue-coats indicated the presence of the fair sex. Horses and mules were kicking up clouds of dust and the sun poured down its hot rays on the sweltering mass of humanity. Thus Sunday passed, the transports at the docks and those in midstream receiving their quotas of men and the necessaries to sustain them.
Stirring scenes continued.
General Miles again went to the port on Monday on the early train. The stirring scenes continued; the mad rush had not abated. General Miles from the observation end of his car watched the crowd as it passed near him. The transports swinging at their moorings were plainly in view, as were also many of those at the docks. The embarkation of animals was progressing satisfactorily.
Shortly after 9 o’clock the funnels of the transports began to pour forth volumes of black smoke. The Olivette, Margaret, Mateo and Laura were visiting the fleet, giving water to one, troops to another, animals and equipments to another. Along the pier could be heard the voices of the transport commanders as they gave their orders to cut loose. The gangplanks were pulled in, the hatchways closed, lines cast off and the engines were put in motion.
The vessels backed into the bay and anchored to await the order to sail. The Matteawan hove her cable short at 10 o’clock. All eyes were riveted on the Seguranca, the flagship, and when the final signal came a mighty cheer arose. From the lower row of portholes to her tops hats waved in wild delight. The anchor was quickly weighed and the great vessel pointed her prow down the bay. In a few minutes the City of Washington, Kio Grande, Cherokee, Iroquois and Whitney followed. As these boats picked their way through the anchored fleet men shouted and bands played. Every vessel elicited a wild display of enthusiasm. These were the only vessels to depart in the forenoon, some of them going over to St. Petersburg to procure water.
General Miles, evidently becoming impatient, embarked on the Tarpon at 12:30 and went out among the fleet, going as far down the bay as St. Petersburg and not returning until 4 o’clock. In the meantime other transports were steaming down the bay.
In the afternoon the Morgan cut a path of white foam down the channel, and her lead was followed by the Vigilance, San Marcos, Clinton, Yucatan, Stillwater, Berkshire, Olivette, Santiago, Arkansas, Seneca, Saratoga, Miami, Leona, Breakwater and Comal. By the time these vessels had moved away darkness had enveloped the remaining ships, from whose sides glimmered long rows of lights. The Knickerbocker, numbered thirteen, and the Orizaba had much to take on during the night. The last to load were eager to complete the task for fear they might be left. By daylight all the ships except the Seguranca had moved down the bay. At 9 o’clock the Seguranca, amid cheers and the blowing of whistles, followed.
General Shatter and his staff were the last to leave. The last orders were handed to Lieutenant Miley, an aid to General Shafter, and immediately the flagship started.
Sampson again shells Santiago.
Rear-Admiral Sampson’s fleet bombarded the batteries at Santiago de Cuba for the third time at daylight on the morning of June 16.
For hours the ships pounded the batteries at the right and left of the entrance, only sparing El Morro, where Lieutenant Hobson and his companions of the Merrimac were in prison.
As a preliminary to the hammering given the batteries the dynamite cruiser Vesuvius at midnight was given another chance. Three 250- pound charges of gun cotton were sent over the fortifications at the entrance. The design was to drop them in the bay around the angle back of the eminence on which El Morro is situated, where it was known that the Spanish torpedo-boat destroyers were lying. Two charges went true, as no reports were heard—a peculiarity of the explosion of gun cotton in water. The third charge exploded with terrific violence on Cayo Smith.
From where the fleet lay the entrance to the harbor looked, in the black night, like a door opening into the livid fire of a Titanic furnace. A crater big enough to hold a church was blown out of the side of the Cayo Smith and was clearly seen from the ships.
Coffee was served to the men at 3:30 in the morning, and with the first blush of dawn the men were called quietly to quarters. The ship steamed in five-knot speed to a 3,000-yard range, when they closed up, broadside on, until a distance of three cable-lengths separated them. They were strung out in the form of a crescent, the heavy fighting ships in the center, the flagship on the right flank and the Massachusetts on the left flank. The line remained stationary throughout the bombardment. The Vixen and Scorpion took up positions on opposite flanks, close in shore, for the purpose of enfilading any infantry that might fire upon the ships.
When the ships got into position it was still too dark for any firing. The Admiral signaled the ships not to fire until the muzzles of the enemy’s guns in the embrasures could be seen by the gun captains.
Fifteen minutes later, at 5:25 am, the New York opened with a broadside from her main battery at the works on the east of the entrance to the harbor. All the ships followed in red streaks of flame. The fleet, enveloped in smoke, pelted the hills and kicked up dirt and masonry.
Though the gun captains had been cautioned not to waste ammunition, but to fire with deliberation, the fire was so rapid that there was an almost continuous report. The measured crash of the big thirteen-inch guns of the battleships sounded above the rattle of the guns of the secondary batteries like thunder-claps above the din of a hurricane. A strong land breeze off the shore carried the smoke of the ships seaward, while it let down a thick curtain in front of the Spanish gunners.
The dons responded spiritedly at first, but their frenzied, half-crazed fire could not match the cool nerve, trained eyes and skilled gunnery of the American sailors. Our fire was much more effective than in preceding bombardments. The Admiral’s ordnance expert had given explicit directions to reduce the powder charges and to elevate the guns, so as to shorten the trajectory and thus to secure a plunging fire.
The effect of the reduced charges was marvelous. In fifteen minutes one western battery was completely wrecked. The Massachusetts tore a gaping hole in the emplacement with a 1,000- pound projectile, and the Texas dropped a shell into the powder magazine. The explosion wrought terrible havoc.
The frame was lifted, the sides were blown out and a shower of debris flew in every direction. One timber, carried out of the side of the battery, went tumbling down the hill.
The batteries on the east of Morro were harder to get at, but the New Orleans crossed the bows of the New York to within 500 yards of shore and played a tattoo with her long eight-inch rifles, hitting them repeatedly, striking a gun squarely muzzle-on, lifting it off its trunnions and sending it sweeping somersaults high in the air.
When the order came, at 6:30, to cease firing, every gun of the enemy had been silenced for ten minutes, but as the ships drew off some of the Spanish courage returned and a half-dozen shots were fired spitefully at the Massachusetts and Oregon, falling in their wakes.
Went ashore with A rush.
Sea and weather were propitious when, on June 22, the great army of invasion under General Shatter left their transports in Baiquiri harbor, and landed on Cuban soil. The navy and the army co-operated splendidly and as the big warships closed in on the shore to pave the way for the approach of the transports and then went back again, three cheers for the navy went up from many thousand throats on the troop-ships and three cheers for the army rose from ship after ship.
The Cuban insurgents, too, bore their share in the enterprise honorably and well. Five thousand of them in mountain fastness and dark thickets of ravines, lay all the previous night on their guns watching every road and mountain path leading from Santiago to Guantanamo. A thousand of them were within sight of Baiquiri, making the approach of the Spaniards under cover of darkness an impossibility.
There is a steep, rocky hill, known as Punta Baiquiri, rising almost perpendicularly at the place indicated. It is a veritable Gibraltar in possibilities of defense. From the staff at its summit the Spanish flag was defiantly floating at sunset; but in the morning it was gone, and with it the small Spanish guard which had maintained the signal station. Between nightfall and dawn the Spaniards had taken the alarm and fled from the place, firing the town as they left.
The flames were watched with interest from the ships. Two sharp explosions were heard. At first they were thought to be the report of guns from Spanish masked batteries, but they proved to be explosions of ammunition in a burning building.
Three hours’ waiting made the men on the transports impatient to get ashore and in action, and every move of the warships was closely watched by the soldiers.
A little before 9 o’clock the bombardment of the batteries of Juragua was begun. This was evidently a feint to cover the real point of attack, Juragua being about half-way between Baiquiri and Santiago. The bombardment lasted about twenty minutes. The scene then quickly shifted back again to the great semi-circle of transports before Baiquiri.
At 9:40 o’clock the New Orleans opened fire with a gun that sent a shell rumbling and crashing against the hillside. The Detroit, Wasp, Machias and Suwanee followed suit. In five minutes the sea was alive with flotillas of small boats, headed by launches, speeding for the Baiquiri dock. Some of the boats were manned by crews of sailors, while others were rowed by the soldiers themselves. Each boat contained sixteen men, every one in fighting trim and carrying three days’ rations, a shelter tent, a gun and 200 cartridges. All were ready to take the field on touching the shore should they be called upon.
The firing of the warships proved to be a needless precaution, as their shots were not returned and no Spaniards were visible.
General Shafter, on board the Seguranca, closely watched the landing of the troops. Brigadier-General Lawton, who had been detailed to command the landing party, led the way in a launch, accompanied by his staff, and directed the formation of the line of operation.
A detachment of eighty regulars was the first to land, followed by General Shafter’s old regiment, the First infantry. Then came the Twenty-fifth, Twenty-second, Tenth, Seventh and Twelfth infantry in the order named, and the Second Massachusetts and a detachment of the Ninth cavalry.
The boats rushed forward simultaneously from every quarter, in good-natured rivalry to be first, and their occupants scrambled over one another to leap ashore. As the boats tossed about in the surf getting ashore was no easy matter, and the soldiers had to throw their rifles on the dock before they could climb up. Some hard tumbles resulted, but nobody was hurt. At the end of the pier the companies and regiments quickly lined up and marched away.
General Lawton threw a strong detachment for the night about six miles west, on the road to Santiago, and another detachment was posted to the north of the town among the hills. The rest of the troops were quartered in the town, some of them being housed in the buildings of the iron company.
Some of the troops were quartered in deserted houses, while others preferred the shelter of their tents in the adjoining fields.
The morning’s fire, it was seen, had destroyed the roundhouse, the repair shops and several small dwellings. The town was deserted when the troops landed, but women and children soon appeared from the surrounding thickets and returned to their homes.
Part of the sun-bronzed troops quickly searched the buildings and beat up the thickets in search of lurking foes and then at nightfall marched into the unknown country beyond, with long, swinging strides and the alert bearing of the old frontier army men, ready to fight the Spaniards Sioux-fashion or in the open, wherever they could be found.
The landing was accomplished without loss of life, the only accident being the wounding of an insurgent on the hills by a shell from one of the warships.
Victory is dearly bought.
On Friday morning, June 24, four troops of the First cavalry, four troops of the Tenth cavalry and eight troops of Roosevelt’s Rough Riders—less than 1,000 men in all—dismounted and attacked 2,000 Spanish soldiers in the thickets within five miles of Santiago de Cuba. A bloody conflict ensued, and the Americans lost sixteen men, including Captain Allyn M. Capron and Hamilton Fish, Jr., of the Rough Riders.
Practically two battles were fought at the same time, one by the Rough Riders under the immediate command of Colonel Wood, on the top of the plateau, and the other on the hillsides, several miles away, by the regulars, with whom was General Young.
The expedition started from Juragua—marked on some Cuban maps as Altares—a small town on the coast nine miles east of Morro Castle, which was the first place occupied by the troops after their landing at Baiquiri.
Information was brought to the American army headquarters by Cubans that forces of Spanish soldiers had assembled at the place where the battle occurred to block the march on Santiago.
General Young went there to dislodge them, the understanding being that the Cubaas under General Castillo would co-operate with him, but the latter failed to appear until the fight was nearly finished. Then they asked permission to chase the fleeing Spaniards, but as the victory was already won General Young refused to allow them to take part in the fight.
General Young’s plans contemplated the movement of half of his command along the trail at the base of the range of hills leading back from the coast, so that he could attack the Spaniards on the flank while the Rough Riders went off to follow the trail leading over the hill to attack them in front. This plan was carried out completely. The troops left Juragua at daybreak. The route of General Young and the regulars was comparatively level and easy of travel. Three Hotch-kiss guns were taken with this command.
The first part of the journey of the Rough Riders was over steep hills several hundred feet high. The men carried 200 rounds of ammunition and heavy camp equipment. Although this was done easily in the early morning, the weather became intensely hot, and the sun beat down upon the cowboys and Eastern athletes as they toiled up the grade with their heavy packs, and frequent rests were necessary. The trail was so narrow that for the greater part of the way the men had to proceed single file. Prickly cactus bushes lined both sides of the trail, and the underbrush was so thick that it was impossible to see ten feet on either side. All the conditions were favorable for a murderous ambuscade, but the troopers kept a close watch, and made as little noise as possible.
The Rough Riders entered into the spirit of the occasion with the greatest enthusiasm. It was their first opportunity for a fight, and every man was eager for it. The weather grew swelteringly hot, and one by one the men threw away blankets and tent rolls, and emptied their canteens.
The first intimation had by Colonel Wood’s command that there were Spaniards in the vicinity was when they reached a point three or four miles back from the coast, when the low cuckoo calls of the Spanish soldiers were heard in the bush.
It was difficult to locate the exact point from which these sounds came, and the men were ordered to speak in low tones.
As soon as the enemy could be located a charge was ordered, and the Americans rushed into the dense thicket regardless of danger. The Spaniards fell back, but fired as they ran, and the battle lasted about an hour.
The Spaniards left many dead on the field, their loss in killed being not less than fifty.
The Spanish had carefully planned an ambush and intended to hold the Americans in check. They became panic-stricken at the boldness of the rush made by the invading force. The position gained was of great advantage.
Where the battle took place a path opens into a space covered with high grass on the right-hand side of the trail and the thickets. A barbed wire fence runs along the left side. The dead body of a Cuban was found on the side of the road, and at the same time Captain Capron’s troops covered the outposts the heads of several Spaniards were seen in the bushes for a moment.
It was not until then that the men were permitted to load their carbines. When the order to load was given they acted on it with a will and displayed the greatest eagerness to make an attack. At this time the sound of firing was heard a mile or two to the right, apparently coming from the hills beyond the thicket. It was the regulars replying to the Spaniards who had opened on them from the thicket. In addition to rapid rifle fire the boom of Hotchkiss guns could be heard.
Hardly two minutes elapsed before Mauser rifles commenced to crack in the thicket and a hundred bullets whistled over the heads of the Rough Riders, cutting leaves from the trees and sending chips flying from the fence posts by the side of the men. The Spaniards had opened and they poured in a heavy fire, which soon had a most disastrous effect. The troops stood their ground with the bullets singing all around them. Private Colby caught sight of the Spaniards and fired the opening shot at them before the order to charge was given.
Sergeant Hamilton Fish, Jr., was the first man to fall. He was shot through the heart and died instantly. The Spaniards were not more than 200 yards off, but only occasional glimpses of them could be seen. The men continued to pour volley after volley into the brush in the direction of the sound of the Spanish shots, but the latter became more frequent and seemed to be getting nearer.
Colonel Wood walked along his lines, displaying the utmost coolness. He ordered troops to deploy into the thicket, and sent another detachment into the open space on the left of the trail. Lieutenant Colonel Roosevelt led the former detachment and tore through the brush, urging his men on. The shots came thicker and faster every moment, and the air seemed filled with the singing and shrieking sound of the Mauser bullets, while the short pop of the Spanish rifles could be distinguished easily from the heavier reports of the American weapons. Sometimes the fire would come in volleys and again shots would follow each other in rapid succession for several minutes.
Captain Capron stood behind his men, revolver in hand, using it whenever a Spaniard exposed himself. His aim was sure and two of the enemy were seen to fall under his fire. Just as he was preparing to take another shot and shouting orders to his men at the same time, his revolver dropped from his grasp and he fell to the ground with a ball through his body. His troop was badly disconcerted for a moment, but with all the strength he could muster he cried, “Don’t mind me, boys, go on and fight.” He was carried from the field as soon as possible and lived only a few hours. Lieutenant Thomas of the same troop received a wound through the leg soon afterward and became delirious from pain.
Roosevelt’s narrow escape.
The troops that were in the thicket were not long in getting into the midst of the fight. The Spaniards located them and pressed them hard, but they sent a deadly fire in return, even though most of the time they could not see the enemy. After ten or fifteen minutes of hot work the firing fell off some, and Lieutenant Colonel Roosevelt ordered his men back from the thicket into the trail, narrowly escaping a bullet himself, which struck a tree alongside his head.
It was evident the Spaniards were falling back and changing their positions, but the fire continued at intervals. Then the troops tore to the front and into more open country than where the enemy’s fire was coming from. About this time small squads commenced to carry the wounded from the thicket and lay them in a more protected spot on the trail until they could be removed to the field hospital.
It was not long before the enemy gave way and ran down the steep hill and up another hill to the blockhouse, with the evident intent of making a final stand there.
Colonel Wood was at the front directing the movement and it was here that Major Brodie was shot. Colonel Wood and Lieutenant Colonel Roosevelt both led the troops in pursuit of the fleeing Spaniards and a hail of bullets was poured into the blockhouse. By the time the American advance got within 600 yards of the blockhouse the Spaniards abandoned it and scattered among the brush up another hill in the direction of Santiago, and the battle was at an end.
During all this time just as hot a fire had been progressing at General Young’s station. The battle began in much the same manner as the other one, and when the machine guns opened fire the Spaniards sent volleys at the gunners from the brush on the opposite hillside. Two troops of cavalry charged up the hill and other troops sent a storm of bullets at every point from which the Spanish shots came. The enemy was gradually forced back, though firing all the time until they, as well as those confronting the Rough Riders, ran for the blockhouse only to be dislodged by Colonel Wood’s men.
General Young stated afterwards that the battle was one of the sharpest he had ever experienced. It was only the quick and constant fire of the troopers, whether they could see the enemy or not, that caused the Spaniards to retreat so soon. General Young spoke in the highest terms of the conduct of the men in his command, and both Colonel Wood and Lieutenant Colonel Roosevelt were extremely gratified with the work done by the Rough Riders on the first occasion of their being under fire.
When it became evident that the Spaniards were giving up the fight, searching parties went through the thicket and tall grass, picking up the dead and wounded. The latter were carried to a field hospital half a mile to the rear and all possible attention was given them, while preparation was made to remove them to Juragua.
Army in A baptism of fire.
After a period of comparative idleness the campaign was opened in earnest Friday, July 1, when General Shafter’s army began an attack at dawn upon the Spanish fortifications. Shatter had come from Cuero to El Caney with his army, making headquarters at Siboney. From these points the Spanish troops under General Linares had retreated a short distance and taken San Juan hill, from which they had accurate range of the American batteries. Shafter’s forces were without sufficient guns, while the Spaniards had more and of a heavier caliber than was anticipated.
The American army slept Thursday night within sight of its battlefield of the morrow. At daylight Friday morning the forward movement began. Hard fighting was expected at El Caney, guarding the northeastern approach to Santiago, and against this position were massed the commands of Generals Lawton and Wheeler, supported by Capron’s battery of light artillery. Both General Wheeler and General Young were sick, so General Sumner was assigned to the command of the former and Colonel Wood of the Rough Riders was placed in command of General Young’s cavalry brigade. Colonel Carroll of the Sixth cavalry took General Sumner’s place at the head of the First brigade of cavalry. Under General Lawton were three brigades—Colonel Van Horn’s, consisting of the Eighth and Twenty-second infantry and the Second Massachusetts volunteers; Colonel Miles’, consisting of the First, Fourth and Twenty-fifth infantry, and General Chaffee’s, consisting of the Seventh, Twelfth and Seventeenth infantry. On the eve of battle Colonel Van Horn was replaced by General Ludlow. Under General Sumner were four troops of the Second cavalry and eight troops of the First volunteer cavalry; under Colonel Wood the Rough Riders, the Tenth cavalry and four troops of the First cavalry. These two cavalry commands occupied the left of the San Juan plain for the attack on the blockhouse at that point. They were supported by Colonel Carroll’s brigade, consisting of the Third, Sixth and Ninth cavalry, and by Captain Grimes’ battery of the Second artillery.
The southeastern approaches to the city were commanded by General Kent’s division. His First brigade was commanded by General Hawkins and consisted of the Sixth and Sixteenth regular infantry and the Seventy-first New York volunteers. Colonel Pearson commanded the Second brigade, composed of the Second, Tenth and Twenty-first regular infantry, while the Third brigade, commanded by Colonel Worth, consisted of the Ninth, Thirteenth and Twenty-fourth regular infantry. Aguadores was their objective point. Grimes’ battery of artillery and the Rough Riders were to support General Kent in his attack on Aguadores, while General Duffield, with the Thirty-third and a battalion of the Thirty-fourth Michigan volunteers, was in advance of Kent’s left.
Captain Capron opens the fight.
The first shot of the engagement came at 6:45 o’clock Friday morning. It was fired by Captain Allyn M. Capron’s Battery E of the First artillery. The privilege of opening the engagement was granted this officer because of the killing of his son among the Rough Riders who fell near Sevilla. The Spanish answered the challenge from their forts and trenches about Caney, and immediately the battle was on. The Spaniards for a time fought desperately to prevent the town from falling into the hands of our forces, but before the fighting had been long under way the Americans and Cubans under Garcia gained advanced ground. Foot by foot the enemy was driven back into the village. The enthusiasm of the American forces was intense and their spirit quickly spread to the Cuban troops.
At one time during this fight one of the big military balloons used by the signal corps for reconnoissance hung over San Juan, not over 500 yards from the enemy, and for five minutes the Spaniards below tried to puncture it, but they were unable to get the range. This balloon proved of inestimable service in the engagement. It floated just over the tree tops, and was easily guided along three miles of the road toward the lines of the enemy. Whenever it halted for the purpose of taking a photograph of the fortifications below, the Spaniards seized the occasion for taking pot shots.
In the fighting at San Juan a Spanish shell two and a half inches in diameter burst in the midst of Captain Puritier’s Battery K of the First artillery, wounding several. Among those injured was. Private Samuel Barr. Eoosevelt’s Rough Eiders were also in this fight and bore themselves with as much credit as in the battle of last Friday in the bush. Several of the Rough Riders were wounded.
The fight before Caney.
Meanwhile the battle was raging fiercely at Caney and Aguadores. In General Lawton’s division the Second Massachusetts up to the middle of the day sustained the heaviest loss, although other regiments were more actively engaged. During the afternoon the fight for the possession of Caney was most obstinate, and the ultimate victory reflects great credit upon the American troops. It was a glory, too, for Spain, though she never had a chance to win at any time during the day. Her men fought in intrenchments, covered ways and blockhouses, while the American forces were in the open from first to last. The Spanish soldiers stuck to their work like men, and this, the first land fight of the war, may well cause Spain to feel proud of her men. The American soldiers attacked the intrenchments through open ground, and, from the firing of the first shot until they were on the hills above Caney, they fought their way forward and the Spanish were driven backward. General Chaffee’s brigade held the right of the line with the town of Caney. General Ludlow’s division was in the center and Colonel Miles held the left.
The firing at times was very heavy during the morning, but the Spaniards in the covered way made a most obstinate defense and refused to yield an inch. Time and again the shells from Captain Capron’s battery drove them to cover, but as soon as his fire ceased they were up and at it again. Despite the heavy firing of the American troops they were able to make but little apparent progress during the morning, although eventually they steadily drew in and inclosed the town on all sides.
At noon it became evident that the fire from the covered way could not be stopped by the artillery alone and that no permanent advance could be made until the place was taken, and General Lawton decided to capture it by assault. Accordingly he sent a messenger to General Chaffee, with instructions to take the position by a charge. General Chaffee thereupon closed in with his men rapidly from the north, while Captain Capron maintained a heavy fire on the fort, keeping the Spaniards in the covered way and putting hole after hole into the stone walls of the fort. Shortly afterward he threw a shot from the battery, which tore away the flagstaff, bringing the Spanish flag to the ground. From that time no banner waved above it.
No finer work has ever been done by soldiers than was done by the brigades of General Ludlow and Colonel Miles as they closed in on the town. The Spanish blazed at them with Mausers and machine guns but without effect. Nothing could stop them and they pushed in closer during the afternoon, and by the time General Chaffee’s men were in form Miles and Ludlow were in the streets of the town, holding with tenacity the Spaniards from retreating toward Santiago, while Chaffee closed in on the right.
The fighting for hours in front of Colonel Miles’ line at a hacienda known as “Duero” was very fierce. The Spanish defense was exceedingly obstinate. The house was guarded by rifle pits, and as fast as the Spaniards were driven from one they retreated into another and continued firing.
When the final closing-in movement was begun at 6 p. m. the town of Caney was taken and a large number of prisoners was captured. The Spanish loss was 2,000 in all.
Attack on Aguadores.
The only movement of the day which did not meet with success was General Duffield’s attempt to occupy the sea village of Aguadores. The New York, the Suwanee and the Gloucester shelled the old fort and the rifle pits during the forenoon, drove all the Spaniards from the vicinity and bowled over the parapet from which flew the Spanish flag; but, owing to the broken railway bridge, General Duffield’s troops were unable to get across the river which separated them from the little town, and were compelled to go back to Juragua.
Saturday at dawn the Spaniards, encouraged by Linares at their head, attempted to retake San Juan hill. Hotchkiss guns mowed them down in platoons. They were driven back into the third line of their intrenchments, and there their sharpshooters, reported to be among the finest in the world, checked the Americans. The batteries of Grimes, Parkhurst and Burt were compelled to retire to El Paso hill. Lawton came with the Ninth Massachusetts and the Thirty-third and Thirty-fourth Michigan and the Spaniards began to retreat.
Sampson then began bombardment of the outer forts of Santiago. The Oregon shot down Morro’s flag and battered the old castle into dust. The batteries at Punta Gorda were blown up by the Oregon and the Indiana. Not one of the American ships was hit by the Spanish fire.
At Guantanamo the Cuban forces under Garcia and Castillo killed 300 Spanish soldiers and routed the enemy’s army there. Castillo’s forces forced their way to within five miles of Santiago.
Shatter’s reports of the fight.
The nation was thrown into a fever of excitement Friday when the following bulletin was posted at the War Department, in Washington:
Camp, Near Sevilla, Cuba 5—Action now going on. The firing only light and desultory. Began on the right near Caney, Lawton’s division. He will move on the northeast part of the town of Santiago. Will keep you continually advised of progress. Shafter.
For several hours this was the only information from the seat of war, but later a dispatch came from Colonel Alien, in charge of the signal station at Playa del Este. He said that the fight was growing furious in all directions. At the time he sent the telegram eight Americans and nine Cubans had been wounded. All through Saturday rumors of American reverses were rife, and to make public information definite, so far as it went, the War Department thought it wise to post a dispatch which it had received early that morning. This was as follows:
Siboney, via Playa del Este, July l.—I fear I have underestimated to-day’s casualties. A large and thoroughly equipped hospital ship should be sent here at once to care for the wounded. The chief surgeon says he has use for forty more medical officers. The ship must bring a launch and boats for conveying the wounded. Shafter, Major-General.
The next message made public sent a wave of apprehension over the country. The text was as follows:
Camp Near Sevilla, Cuba, via Playa del Este, July 3.—We have the town well invested in the north and east, but with a very thin line. Upon approaching it we find it of such a character and the defense so strong it will be impossible to carry it by storm with my present forces. Our losses up to date will aggregate 1,000, but list has not yet been made. But little sickness outside of exhaustion from intense heat and exertion of the battle of day before yesterday and the almost constant fire which is kept up on the trenches. Wagon road to the rear is kept open with difficulty on account of rains, but I will be able to use it for the present. General Wheeler is seriously ill and will probably have to go to the rear to-day. General Young is also very ill, confined to his bed. General Hawkins slightly wounded in the foot during sortie enemy made last night, which was handsomely repulsed. The behavior of the troops was magnificent. General Garcia reported he holds the railroad from Santiago to San Luis and has burned a bridge and removed some rails; also that General Pando has arrived at Palma and that the French consul, with about 400 French citizens, came into his line yesterday from Santiago. I have directed him to treat them with every courtesy possible. Shafter, Major-General.
General Miles sent the following dispatch to General Shafter:
Headquarters of the Army, Washington, D. C., July 3.—Accept my hearty congratulations on the record made of magnificent fortitude, gallantry, and sacrifice displayed in the desperate fighting of the troops before Santiago. I realize the hardships, difficulties, and sufferings, and am proud that amid those terrible scenes the troops illustrated such fearless and patriotic devotion to the welfare of our common country and flag. Whatever the results to follow their unsurpassed deeds of valor, the past is already a gratifying chapter of history. I expect to be with you within one week, with strong reinforcements.
Miles, Major-General Commanding.
General Shafter’s reply was as follows:
Playa, July 4, Headquarters Fifth Army Corps, Near Santiago, July 3—I thank you in the name of the gallant men I have the honor to command for splendid tribute of praise which you have accorded them. They bore themselves as American soldiers always have. Your telegram will be published at the head of the regiments in the morning. I feel that I am master of the situation and can hold the enemy for any length of time. I am delighted to know that you are coming, that you may see for yourself the obstacles which this army had to overcome. My only regret is the great number of gallant souls who have given their lives for our country’s cause. Shafter.
In the light of these sorrowful, if triumphant, facts it must not be forgotten that the enemy also suffered a terrible loss. In the fatuous sortie upon the American position on the night of July 2 General Linares, commanding in Santiago, was wounded in the foot and shoulder and 500 of his soldiers died upon the field. Scarcely a man in our intrenchments was hurt. Of the Spanish 29th battalion defending El Caney less than 100 survived. General Vara de Rey, its commander, was buried with military honors, General Ludlow taking possession of his sword and spurs.
The Spanish fought stubbornly throughout, and their retreat, though steady, was slowly and coolly conducted. They contested every inch of the way and fought with unexpected skill, their officers handling the troops with bravery and good judgment, and demonstrating that in them our boys in blue were fighting with foemen worthy of their steel.
The gallantry of the American officers was conspicuous throughout the battle. Major-General Wheeler, who was seriously indisposed and suffering from an attack of fever, ordered an ambulance to convey him to the front, where the sound of fighting seemed to give him new life, and in a short time he called for his horse and personally directed his division in the attack.
General Hawkins, commanding the First Brigade, Ninth Division, was conspicuous for the manner in which he exposed himself to Spanish bullets. After taking the redoubt on the hill with his command he stood for a long time on the summit watching the fight. A heavy fire at times was concentrated on the spot, but he surveyed the field of battle while the bullets were whizzing past by hundreds.
Shafter demands the surrender of the city.
On July 3 General Shafter sent the following communication to General Toral, commanding the Spanish army in the province of Santiago:
Headquarters of United States Forces, Near San Juan River, Cuba, July 3, 8:30 A. M.—To the Commanding General of the Spanish Forces, Santiago de Cuba—Sir: I shall be obliged, unless you surrender, to shell Santiago de Cuba. Please inform the citizens of foreign countries and all women and children that they should leave the city before 10 o’clock to-morrow morning. Very respectfully, your obedient servant, W. R. Shafter, Major-General, U. S. A.
General Toral made this reply:
Santiago de Cuba, July 3, 2 pm.—His Excellency, the General Commanding the Forces of the United States, San Juan River—Sir: I have the honor to reply to your communication of to-day written at 8:30 A. M. and received at 1 pm, demanding the surrender of this city; on the contrary case announcing to me that you will bombard the city, and asking that I advise the foreign women and children that they must leave the city before 10 o’clock to-morrow morning. It is my duty to say to you that this city will not surrender and that I will inform the foreign Consuls and inhabitants of the contents of your message.
Very respectfully, Jose Toral, Commander in Chief, Fourth Corps.
The British, Portuguese, Chinese, and Norwegian Consuls requested that non-combatants be allowed to occupy the town of Caney and railroad points, and asked until 10 o’clock of the next day for them to leave Santiago. They claimed that there were between 15,000 and 20,000 people, many of them old, whose lives would be endangered by the bombardment. On the receipt of this request General Shafter sent the following communication:
The Commanding General, Spanish General, Spanish Forces, Santiago de Cuba—Sir: In consideration of the request of the Consuls and officers in your city for delay in carrying out my intention to fire on the city, and in the interest of the poor women and children who will suffer greatly by their hasty and enforced departure from the city, I have the honor to announce that I will delay such action solely in their interest until noon of the 5th, providing during the interval your forces make no demonstration whatever upon those of my own.
I am with great respect, your obedient servant, W. R. Shafter, Major-General, U. S. A.
On July 6 the flag of truce which had been flying over Santiago for a day or two was still displayed, but a smaller flag was presently seen coming from the city in the hands of a man in uniform.
A party was sent from General Shafter’s headquarters to receive the bearer of the flag. It was found that he was a commissioner from General Toral. lie announced to those who met him that he had an important communication to deliver to the commander of the American army, coming direct from General Toral, and he desired to be taken to General Shafter.
Ordinarily such a messenger going through the lines would be blindfolded. Our position was so strong, however, and our offensive works so impressive, that it was decided to give the commissioner the free use of his eyes, so that he might see all the preparations that have been made to reduce the city. The siege guns and mortar batteries were pointed out to him, and he was entertained all the way to head-quarters with a detailed explanation of the number of our forces, our guns, and other matters that must have been of interest to him. In fact, he was very much impressed by what he heard and saw.
Arriving at General Shafter’s headquarters the communication from the Spanish commander was delivered with some ceremony. It was quite long. General Toral asked that the time of the truce be further extended, as he wanted to communicate with the Madrid government concerning the surrender of the city. lie also asked that cable operators be sent to operate the line between Santiago and Kingston. He promised on his word of honor as a soldier that the operators would, not be asked to transmit any matter except that bearing on the surrender, and that he would return them safe to El Caney when a final reply was received from Madrid. This request for operators was made necessary by the fact that the men who had been operating the Santiago cable were British subjects, and they had all left the city under the protection of the British consul when the Americans gave notice that the city would be bombarded unless it surrendered.
The commissioner said that General Toral wanted to consult with the authorities in Madrid, for the reason that he had been unable to communicate with Captain-General Blanco in Havana.
It was finally arranged that the truce, which expired at four o’clock on the 6th, should be extended until the same hour on Saturday, July 9th.
The commissioner was escorted back through another part of the camp which was filled with bristling guns. The British consul having given his consent to the operators returning to the city, messengers were sent to El Caney to learn if the men would go. They expressed their willingness, and were escorted to the Avails of the city, where they were met by a Spanish escort and taken to the office of the cable company.
Destruction of Cervera’s fleet.
On the morning of July 3, Admiral Cervera, commander of the Spanish fleet in the harbor of Santiago de Cuba, made a bold dash for liberty by a desperate attempt to break through the American line, in the hope of reaching the open sea.
In the face of overwhelming odds, with nothing before him but inevitable destruction or surrender if he remained any longer in the trap in which the American fleet held him, he made a dash from the harbor at the time the Americans least expected him to do so, and fighting every inch of his way, even when his ship was ablaze and sinking, he tried to escape the doom which was written on the muzzle of every American gun trained upon his vessels.
The Spaniards made a daring venture, and with a less vigilant foe they might have succeeded. It was known in the fleet that General Shatter was closing in on the city and that Admiral Cervera’s position was desperate, but it was supposed that he would remain in the harbor and train his guns on the American land forces as long as possible, and that he would blow up his ships rather than allow them to fall into the hands of the enemy. It is certain that Admiral Sampson did not expect Cervera to make a break for liberty, although the American commander has known for several days that the sinking of the Merrimac did not completely block the channel entrance to Santiago harbor.
At 9:35 on Sunday morning the flagship New York, with Admiral Sampson on board, was many miles to the eastward, bearing the admiral to a conference with General Shafter. The fleet as a whole was much farther off shore than usual. Any one looking seaward from Morro Castle and seeing the distant specks on the water would not have realized that the port was effectively blockaded. Evidently the Spaniards had been waiting for the American fleet to become thus scattered. They thought our fleet was napping, and that this was the time to make a quick exit and start homeward.
Very soon after the New York had started to Siboney the shore batteries opened fire on the American fleet. As the vessels were practically out of range and not in the usual line formation this firing from the shore caused some surprise. In the first place, these batteries had been shelled the day before, and it was supposed that they had been silenced, and in the second place it seemed foolish of the Spaniards to undertake haphazard firing.
At that time the vessels of the blockading squadron were at varying distances of from three to ten miles from the harbor entrance. Most of the American cruisers were at the usual Sunday morning quarters, and not one ship was really prepared for immediate action. Almost as soon as the batteries opened fire a Spanish cruiser, the Cristobal Colon, was seen to emerge from the channel entrance and head toward sea, firing her forward battery as she came. Then the signals hurried from one ship to another, and on every American vessel there was a rush of activity. In every engine room there was a signal for full speed. The entire fleet began to move in toward the shore, heading for the channel entrance. At 9:45 the Oquendo slipped out of the channel. By this time the Cristobal Colon had turned to the west, and with a good headway was attempting to slip past the blockaders. The Maria Teresa, the Vizcaya, the two torpedo-boat destroyers, the Furor and the Pluton, and a gunboat were all clear of the channel entrance and racing for liberty when the American vessels opened fire at long range. The Brooklyn, Massachusetts, Texas, Oregon and Iowa bore down upon the Spaniards and opened fire, but they were too far away to get a good range. As for the Spaniards, they began to shoot as soon as they came out of the harbor and continued to blaze away until they were utterly defeated, but they showed poor judgment and bad marksmanship.
The Gloucester’s good work.
As the Americans came in closer and closer the fighting became general. The Gloucester had been lying off Aguadores, three miles east of Morro, when the Spaniards came out. She hurried to join in the attack, and at first opened fire on one of the large cruisers. Already they were being pounded with terrific effect by the battleships, however, so the little Gloucester turned her attention to the two torpedo-boat destroyers which had slipped out of the harbor behind the cruisers. The Gloucester was one of the swiftest boats in the navy, and although she was equipped with nothing heavier than six-pound guns she made a resolute attack on the two destroyers, and the chase began. They headed to the west at high speed, and she flew after them, pouring shot after shot with such wonderful accuracy, that by the time the destroyers were five miles to the west of Morro both were on fire and plainly disabled. They had persistently returned the fire, and a shower of little shells fell around the yacht, but once more the American gunners showed their superiority, for the Gloucester was comparatively unhurt.
The Furor turned at last and gave battle to the Gloucester. Here was another instance of American good luck and Spanish inefficiency. The Furor sent torpedoes against the Gloucester, but they failed to explode. As soon as the Spanish destroyer stopped the Gloucester simply raked her fore and aft with rapid-fire guns, and the Furor again headed west to escape the terrible punishment. The smoke was pouring out of her sides, and soon she turned in toward shore, evidently in a sinking condition. The members of the crew flocked to the small boats and abandoned their craft. Later on most of them were taken prisoners on shore. The Furor was floating about, a mass of flame.
The Pluton also was disabled, and headed for the shore. She was beached under a low bluff, where a heavy sea was running, and was soon pounded so that she broke in two in the middle. Only about half of the crew reached the shore alive.
Having disposed of the two destroyers the Gloucester lowered her small boats and sent them ashore to rescue the Spanish sailors. The Furor drifted about until the fire reached her magazines, and then there were two terrific explosions which shattered her hull. Her stern sunk quickly, and as it went down her bow rose until it stood almost straight up in the air, and in this position she disappeared from sight.
Test of battleships.
While the little yacht had been gaining this notable victory over the two famous destroyers the big battleships had been following the line of Spanish cruisers and pounding them with great persistence. The four Spanish cruisers were under the direct fire of the Brooklyn, and the four battleships, the Massachusetts, the Texas, the Iowa and the Oregon. It was the first time that any first-class battleship had ever been put to the test in a naval battle. The huge fighting vessels kept close after the fast cruisers and fired their big guns with deadly certainty. The American fire was so rapid that the ships were surrounded by clouds of smoke.
The Spanish gunners seemed unable to get the proper range and many of their shots were very wild, though a number of them fell dangerously near to the mark.
Two guns of the battery just east of Morro also took part in the game and their shells fell around the American ships. Many of them struck the upper works of the fleeing Spaniards and must have resulted in killing and wounding many of their men.
The Spanish ships had now reached a point about seven miles west of Morro and a mile or two beyond the place where the Furor was burning and the Pluton broken in two against the cliff.
The flagship and the Oquendo were the first to show signals of distress. Two thirteen-inch shells from one of the battleships had struck the Maria Teresa at the water line, tearing great holes in her side and causing her to fill rapidly. The Oquendo suffered about the same fate and both ships headed for a small cove and went aground 200 yards from the shore, flames shooting from them in every direction.
The Gloucester, after sending a boat ashore to the Pluton, steamed along the coast to where the armored cruisers were stranded and went to their assistance. There was danger from the magazines, and many of those on board jumped into the water and swam to the shore, though a number were unable to reach the small strip of sandy beach in the cove and were thrown against the rocks and killed or drowned. Many of the wounded were lowered into the ships’ own boats and taken ashore, but this task was a most difficult one.
The Gloucester had all her boats out and one seaman swam through the surf with a line from the Maria Teresa, making it fast to a tree on the shore. By this means many on the flagship, including Admiral Cervera, lowered themselves into the Gloucester’s boats. The wounded were taken to the Gloucester as rapidly as possible, and the lower deck of the yacht was soon covered with Spanish sailors mangled in limb and body by the bursting of shells.
Chase of the Cristobal Colon.
The Brooklyn, Oregon, Massachusetts and Texas and several smaller vessels continued the chase of the Cristobal Colon, and in less than an hour were lost to view of the burning ships on shore. The Iowa and Texas both gave assistance to the imperiled crew of the Vizcaya. Her Captain surrendered his command and the prisoners were transferred to the battleship. The Vizcaya probably lost about sixty men, as she carried a complement of 400 and only 340 were taken aboard the Iowa.
Soon after Admiral Cervera reached the shore and surrendered he was taken to the Gloucester, at his own request. There was no mistaking the heartbroken expression upon the old commander’s face as he took the proffered hand of Captain Wainwright and was shown to the latter’s cabin, but he made every effort to bear bravely the bitter defeat that had come to him. He thanked the Captain of the Gloucester for the words of congratulation offered on the gallant fight, and then spoke earnestly of his solicitude for the safety of his men on shore. He informed Captain Wainwright that Cuban soldiers were on the hills preparing to attack his unarmed men and asked that they be protected.
For hours after Admiral Cervera went aboard the Gloucester the Infanta Maria Teresa, Almirante Oquendo and Vizcaya continued to burn and every now and then a deep roar, accompanied by a burst of flame and smoke from the sides of the ships, would announce the explosion of more ammunition or another magazine.
It may be mentioned as a coincidence that Lieutenant-Commander Wainwright, the Commander of the Gloucester, was executive officer of the Maine at the time of the disaster, and, although he remained in Havana harbor two months after the explosion, he lived on board the dispatch boat Fern and steadfastly refused to set his foot within the city until the time should come when he could go ashore at the head of a landing party of American blue jackets. To-day it was his ship that sank two Spanish torpedo-boat destroyers and afterward received the Spanish Admiral aboard as a prisoner of war.
From his position on the bridge of the Gloucester Lieutenant-Commander Wainwright watched the flames and smoke as they enveloped the decks of the three greatest warships of the Spanish navy, which were soon to be reduced to nothing but shattered masts and twisted smokestacks protruding above the water.
The prisoners of war included the captains of both boats. None offered any resistance and all were glad to go to the Gloucester, as they feared an attack from the Cubans.
When asked to make some statement in regard to the result of the battle Admiral Cervera said: “I would rather lose my ships at sea, like a sailor, than in a harbor. It was the only thing left for me to do.”
The work of the American battleships was as rapid as it was terrible. At 9:35 the first vessel headed out past Morro Castle. At 10 o’clock the two destroyers were wrecked and deserted. At 10:15 the Oquendo and Maria Teresa were encircled by the Iowa, Indiana and Texas. At 10:40 both were on the rocks. A few minutes later the Vizcaya was abandoned.
The Cristobal Colon, having the lead, ran farther along the coast before the persistent firing by the Brooklyn and Massachusetts brought her to a stop. She fought for twenty minutes. At noon she was on the rocks, perforated and tattered. Spain’s greatest fleet was destroyed in about three hours.
Chief Yoeman Ellis of the Brooklyn was the only American killed In three hours of incessant fighting, while the Spanish loss reached 600 killed, 400 wounded and 1,100 taken prisoners.
Admiral Sampson’s official report.
Following is the official report sent by Admiral Sampson to the navy department at Washington:
United States Flagship New York, First Rate, Off Santiago de Caba, July 15, 1898.—Sir: I have the honor to make the following report upon the battle, with the destruction of the Spanish squadron, commanded by Admiral Cervera, off Santiago de Cuba on Sunday, July 3, 1898:
The enemy’s vessels came out of the harbor between 9:35 and 10 am, the head of the column appearing around Oayo Smith at 9:31 and emerging from the channel five or six minutes later. The positions of the vessels of my command off Santiago at that moment were as follows: The flagship New York was four miles east of her blockading station and about seven miles from the harbor entrance. She had started for Siboney, where I intended to land, accompanied by several of my staff, and go to the front to consult with General Shafter. A discussion of the situation and a more definite understanding between us of the operations proposed had been rendered necessary by the unexpectedly strong resistance of the Spanish garrison of Santiago. I had sent my chief of staff on shore the day before to arrange an interview with General Shafter, who had been suffering from heat prostration. I made arrangements to go to his headquarters, and my flagship was in the position mentioned above when the Spanish squadron appeared in the channel.
The remaining vessels were in or near their usual blockading positions, distributed in a semi-circle about the harbor entrance, counting from the eastward to the westward in the following order: The Indiana, about a mile and a half from shore; the Oregon—the New York’s place between these two—the Iowa, Texas and Brooklyn, the latter two miles from the shore west of Santiago. The distance of the vessels from the harbor entrance was from two and one-half to four miles—the latter being the limit of day—blockading distance. The length of the arc formed by the ships was about eight miles.
The Massachusetts had left at 4 A. M. for Guantanamo for coal. Her station was between the Iowa and the Texas. The auxiliaries Gloucester and Vixen lay close to the land and nearer the harbor entrance than the large vessels, the Gloucester to the eastward and the Vixen to the westward. The torpedo boat Ericsson was in company with the flagship, and remained with her during the chase until ordered to discontinue, when she rendered very efficient service in rescuing prisoners from the burning Vizcaya.
The Spanish vessels came rapidly out of the harbor at a speed estimated at from eight to ten knots and in the following order: Infanta Maria Teresa (flagship), Vizcaya, Cristobal Colon and the Almirante Oquendo. The distance between these ships was about 800 yards, which means that from the time the first one became visible in the upper reach of the channel until the last one was out of the harbor an interval of only about twelve minutes elapsed. Following the Oquendo at a distance of about 1,200 yards came the torpedo-boat destroyer Pluton, and after her the Furor. The armored cruisers, as rapidly as they could bring their guns to bear, opened a vigorous fire upon the blockading vessels and emerged from the channel shrouded in the smoke from their guns.
The men of our ships in front of the port were at Sunday “quarters for inspection.” The signal was made simultaneously from several vessels, “Enemy ships escaping” and “general quarters” was sounded. The men cheered as they sprang to their guns, and fire was opened probably within eight minutes by the vessels whose guns commanded the entrance. The New York turned about and steamed for the escaping fleet, flying the signal “Close in towards harbor entrance and attack vessels,” and gradually increased her speed, until toward the end of the chase she was making sixteen and a half knots, and was rapidly closing on the Cristobal Colon. She was not at any time within the range of the heavy Spanish ships, and her only part in the firing was to receive the undivided fire of the forts in passing the harbor entrance and to fire a few shots at one of the destroyers, thought at the moment to be attempting to escape from the Gloucester.
The Spanish vessels, upon clearing the harbor, turned to the westward in column, increasing their speed to the full power of their engines. The heavy blockading vessels, which had closed in toward the Morro at the instant of the enemy’s appearance and at their best speed, delivered a rapid fire, well sustained and destructive, which speedily overwhelmed and silenced the Spanish fire. The initial speed of the Spaniards carried them rapidly past the blockading vessels and the battle developed into a chase, in which the Brooklyn and Texas had at the start the advantage of position. The Brooklyn maintained this lead. The Oregon, steaming with amazing speed from the commencement of the action, took first place. The Iowa and Indiana, having done good work and not having the speed of the other ships, were directed by me, in succession, at about the time the Vizcaya was beached, to drop out of the chase and resume the blockading station. The Vixen, finding that the rush of the Spanish ships would put her between two fires, ran outside of our own column, and remained there during the battle and chase.
The skillful handling and gallant fighting of the Gloucester excited the admiration of every one who witnessed it and merits the commendation of the navy department. She is a fast and entirely unprotected auxiliary vessel—the yacht Corsair—and has a good battery of light rapid-fire guns. She was lying about two miles from the harbor entrance, to the southward and eastward, and immediately steamed in, opening fire upon the large ships. Anticipating the appearance of the Pluton and Furor, the Gloucester was slowed, thereby gaining more rapidly a high pressure of steam, and when the destroyers came out she steamed for them at full speed and was able to close at short range, where her fire was accurate, deadly and of great volume.
During this fight the Gloucester was under the fire of the Socapa battery. Within twenty minutes from the time they emerged from Santiago harbor the careers of the Furor and the Pluton were ended and two-thirds of their people killed. The Furor was beached and sunk in the surf, the Pluton sank in deep water a few minutes later. The destroyers probably suffered much injury from the fire of the secondary batteries of the battleships Iowa, Indiana and the Texas, yet I think a very considerable factor in their speedy destruction was the fire at close range of the Gloucester’s battery. After rescuing the survivors of the destroyers the Gloucester did excellent service in landing and securing the crew of the Infanta Maria Teresa.
The method of escape attempted by the Spaniards—all steering in the same direction and in formation—removed all tactical doubts or difficulties and made plain the duty of every United States vessel to close in, immediately engage and pursue. This was promptly and effectively done.
As already stated, the first rush of the Spanish squadron carried it past a number of the blockading ships, which could not immediately work up to their best speed, but they suffered heavily in passing, and the Infanta Maria Teresa and the Oquendo were probably set on fire by shells fired during the first fifteen minutes of the engagement. It was afterwards learned that the Infanta Maria Teresa’s fire main had been cut by one of our first shots and that she was unable to extinguish the fire. With large volumes of smoke rising from their lower decks aft, these vessels gave up both fight and flight and ran in on the beach-the Infanta Maria Teresa at about 10:15 A. M. at Nima Nima, six and one-half miles from Santiago harbor entrance, and the Almirante Oquendo at about 10:30 A. M. at Juan Gonzales, seven miles from the port.
The Vizcaya was still under the fire of the leading vessels; the Cristobal Colon had drawn ahead, leading the chase, and soon passed beyond the range of the guns of the leading American ships. The Vizcaya was soon set on fire, and at 11:15 A. M. she turned in shore and was beached at Aserraderos, fifteen miles from Santiago, burning fiercely, and with her reserves of ammunition on deck already beginning to explode.
When about ten miles west of Santiago the Indiana had been signaled to go back to the harbor entrance, and at Aserraderos the Iowa was signaled to “resume blockading station.” The Iowa, assisted by the Ericsson and the Hist, took off the crew of the Vizcaya, while the Harvard and the Gloucester rescued those of the Infanta Maria Teresa and the Almirante Oquendo.
This rescue of prisoners, including the wounded, from the burning Spanish vessels was the occasion of some of the most daring and gallant conduct of the day. The ships were burning fore and aft, their guns and reserve ammunition were exploding, and it was not known at what moment the fire would reach the main magazines. In addition to this a heavy surf was running just inside of the Spanish ships. But no risk deterred our officers and men until their work of humanity was complete.
There remained now of the Spanish ships only the Cristobal Colon, but she was their best and fastest vessel. Forced by the situation to hug the Cuban coast, her only chance of escape was by superior and sustained speed. When the Vizcaya went ashore the Colon was about six miles ahead of the Brooklyn and the Oregon, but her spurt was finished and the American ships were now gaining upon her. Behind the Brooklyn and the Oregon came the Texas, Vixen and New York. It was evident from the bridge of the New York that all the American ships were gradually overhauling the Colon, and that she had no chance of escape.
At 12:50 the Brooklyn and the Oregon opened fire and got her range, the Oregon’s heavy shell striking beyond her, and at 1:10 she gave up without firing another shot, hauled down her colors and ran ashore at Rio Torquino, forty-eight miles from Santiago. Capt. Cook of the Brooklyn went on board to receive the surrender. While his boat was alongside I came up in the New York, received his report and placed the Oregon in charge of the wreck to save her, if possible, and directed the prisoners to be transferred to the Resolute, which had followed the chase.
Commodore Schley, whose chief of staff had gone on board to receive the surrender, had directed that all their personal effects should be retained by the officers. This order I did not modify. The Cristobal Colon was not injured by our firing, and probably is not much injured by beaching, though she ran ashore at high speed. The beach was so steep that she came off by the working of the sea. But her sea valves were opened and broken, treacherously, I am sure, after her surrender, and despite all efforts she sank. When it became evident that she could not be kept afloat she was pushed by the New York bodily up on the beach, the New York’s stem being placed against her for this purpose—the ship being handled by Capt. Chadwick with admirable judgment—and sank in shoal water and may be saved. Had this not been done she would have gone down in deep water and would have been to a certainty a total loss.
I regard this complete and important victory over the Spanish forces as the successful finish of several weeks of arduous and close blockade, so stringent and effective during the night that the enemy was deterred from making the attempt to escape at night and deliberately elected to make the attempt in daylight. That this was the case I was informed by the commanding officer of the Cristobal Colon.
It was ascertained with fair conclusiveness that the Merrimac, so gallantly taken into the channel on June 3, did not obstruct it. I therefore maintained the blockade as follows:
To the battleships was assigned the duty, in turn, of lighting the channel. Moving up to the port at a distance of from one to two miles from the Morro—dependent upon the condition of the atmosphere—they threw a searchlight beam directly up the channel, and held it steadily there. This lighted up the entire breadth of the channel for half a mile inside of the entrance so brilliantly that the movement of small boats could be detected.
When all the work was done so well it is difficult to discriminate in praise. The object of the blockade of Cervera’s squadron was fully accomplished, and each individual bore well his part in it —the commodore in command on the second division, the captains of ships, their officers and men. The fire of the battleships was powerful and destructive and the resistance of the Spanish squadron was in great part broken almost before they had got beyond the range of their own forts. The fine speed of the Oregon, enabled her to take a front position in the chase, and the Cristobal Colon did not give up until the Oregon had thrown a 13- inch shell beyond her. This performance adds to the already brilliant record of this fine battleship and speaks highly of the skill and care with which her admirable efficiency has been maintained during a service unprecedented in the history of vessels of her class.
The Brooklyn’s westerly blockading position gave her an advantage in the chase, which she maintained to the end, and she employed her fine battery with telling effect. The Texas and the New York were gaining on the chase during the last hour, and had any accident befallen the Brooklyn or the Oregon, would have speedily overhauled the Cristobal Colon. From the moment the Spanish vessel exhausted her first burst of speed the result was never in doubt. She fell, in fact, far below what might reasonably have been expected of her. Careful measurements of time and distance give her an average speed from the time she cleared the harbor mouth until the time she was run on shore at Rio Tarquino—of 13.7 knots. Neither the New York nor the Brooklyn stopped to couple up their forward engine, but ran out the chase with one pair, getting steam, of course, as rapidly as possible on all boilers. To stop to couple up the forward engines would have meant a delay of fifteen minutes—or four miles—in the chase.
Several of the ships were struck, the Brooklyn more often than the others, but very slight material injury was done, the greatest being aboard the Iowa. Our loss was one man killed and one wounded, both on the Brooklyn. It is difficult to explain this immunity from loss of life or injury to ships in a combat with modern vessels of the best type; but Spanish gunnery is poor at the best, and the superior weight and accuracy of our fire speedily drove the men from their guns and silenced their fire. This is borne out by the statements of prisoners and by observation. The Spanish vessels, as they dashed out of the harbor, were covered with the smoke from their own guns, but this speedily diminished in volume and soon almost disappeared. The fire from the rapid-fire batteries of the battleships appears to have been remarkably destructive. An examination of the stranded vessels shows that the Almirante Oquendo especially had suffered terribly from this fire. Her sides are everywhere pierced and her decks were strewn with the charred remains of those who had fallen.
W. T. Sampson,
Rear Admiral United States Navy, Commander in Chief United States Naval Force, North Atlantic Station. The Secretary of the Navy, Navy Department, Washington, D. C.
Burning of the Alfonso XII.
Two batteries silenced; two gunboats put to flight; the Alfonso XII., a transport of 5,000 tons, loaded with ammunition, beached and burned; those were the Spanish losses in the second battle of Mariel on Wednesday, July 6. The Hawk, Prairie and Castine fought it, destroying the most valuable ship and cargo that Spanish daring employed to run into Havana’s relief after the blockading squadron stationed itself before Morro.
The Hawk began the battle Tuesday night off Havana. Lieutenant Hood had taken his destroyer yacht far in under the guns to watch the western approach to the harbor. Twenty minutes before midnight he reached the eastern limit of his patrol, six miles west of Morro, and went about, swinging farther in shore as he turned. The Hawk had not finished circling when the forward lookout sighted a huge four-masted steamer creeping along in the shade of the shore a quarter of a mile nearer the beach, a mile to the westward. His “sail ho” warned the master of the steamer that he was discovered and he put about at the cry and steamed furiously away toward Mariel.
Lieutenant Hood was after him in an instant. Eastward within call lay six warships, but Lieutenant Hood wanted the steamer for his own prize, and started after her without calling for aid. Mile after mile the two vessels reeled off, the Hawk waiting to get its prey well away from the squadron before striking. Twenty miles from Morro the steamer began drawing away from the destroyer. The Hawk’s men were at their quarters, and when Lieutenant Hood saw his prize slipping from his grasp his forward six-pounders began to speak. Some of the shells must have landed, for the Spaniard ran for shoal water, apparently hoping to catch the Hawk among the rocks.
Lieutenant Hood was game, however, and the light-draught Hawk kept hammering away with her rapid-fire guns and burning signals for help from the bridge. Two miles east of Mariel the hunted Spaniard broke for the narrow harbor mouth, and Lieutenant Hood’s jackies, pumping steel across the moonlit waters, groaned in the fear that she might escape. The raining six-pound shells upset the pilot, however, and the fleeing ship struck hard on the bar at the west side of the entrance and stuck fast. With wild cheers the Hawk’s crew tumbled into the boats and boarded the prize, but the steamer’s rail was lined with riflemen and the popping Mausers drove the Hawk’s tars back to their ship.
The Hawk guarded the prize till morning and then, seeing her fast aground, ran back to Havana to report to the fleet and to ask help in taking her. The Castine was sent down to aid in the work, but the shore batteries opened on the ships when they appeared. After two hours’ fruitless fighting the Hood went back to the fleet for re-enforcements. The Prairie, manned by Massachusetts reserves, was dispatched to engage the batteries, and at 1 o’clock in the afternoon Captain Train took a position two miles from Martello tower and began pitching six-inch shells into the tower and sand batteries. Ten shells silenced the three guns in the tower and sent the artillerymen streaming back over the hill toward the city.
Two gunboats inside the harbor poured five-inch shells at the Prairie, but nine shells from that ship routed them and drove them back to the city. The sand batteries were harder to silence, but fifteen shells did that work and wrecked the barracks besides. The infantry in the rifle pits supporting the batteries were driven out by five-inch shells from the Castine, which fired during the morning and afternoon 250 shots. The Prairie used thirty-eight of her six-inch shells and about 100 six-pounders. The Castine and Hawk had taken the steamer, and the Hawk then reported to the fleet at Havana. The Spanish vessel was so badly riddled that the name could not be deciphered.
General miles assumes command in Cuba.
On July 13 General Miles arrived at the front and assumed personal command of the army around Santiago. Negotiations for the peaceful surrender of the city had been going on for several days between General Shafter, commander of the American forces, and General Toral of the Spanish army, but it was not until the 16th that a final agreement was reached. On this date conditions of surrender were offered, the principal articles of which were as follows:
First, that all hostilities shall cease pending the agreement of final capitulation.
Second, that the capitulation includes all the Spanish forces and the surrender of all war material within the prescribed limits.
Third, that the transportation of the troops to Spain shall be furnished at the earliest possible moment, each force to be embarked at the nearest port.
Fourth, that the Spanish officers shall retain their side arms and the enlisted men their personal property.
Fifth, that after the final capitulation the Spanish forces shall assist in the removal of all obstructions to navigation in Santiago harbor.
Sixth, that after the final capitulation the commanding officers shall furnish a complete inventory of all arms and munitions of war and a roster of all soldiers in the district.
Seventh, that the Spanish general shall be permitted to take the military archives and records with him.
Eighth, that all guerrillas and Spanish irregulars shall be permitted to remain in Cuba, giving a parole that they will not again take up arms against the United States unless properly released from parole.
Ninth, that the Spanish forces shall be permitted to march out with all the honors of war, depositing their arms to be disposed of by the United States in the future, the American commissioners to recommend to their Government that the arms of the soldiers be returned to those “who so bravely defended them.”
By the terms of this agreement the southeastern end of Cuba—an area of about 5,000 square miles—the capital of the province, the forts and their heavy guns, and Toral’s army, about 25,000 strong, passed into our possession.
The ceremony which sealed the capitulation of Santiago was simple and short. Promptly at 9 o’clock in the morning all division and brigade commanders and their staffs reported to General Shafter at his headquarters. With Major-General Wheeler at his left, General Lawton and General Kent behind, and the other officers, according to rank, following, the little cavalcade, escorted by a detachment of Rafferty’s mounted squadron, rode around the base of San Juan hill and west on the royal road toward Santiago. Just about midway between the American and Spanish lines of rifle pits stands a lordly ceiba, 125 feet high to the crown, nearly 10 feet in diameter at the trunk and spreading 50 feet each way from the polished tree shaft. Under this tree General Toral and a score of his officers awaited the Americans. As General Shafter came down the slope toward the tree General Toral advanced a few feet and raised his hat. General Shafter returned the salute, and then the quick notes of a Spanish bugle, marking the cadence of a march, sounded on the other side of the hedge which bordered the road, and the king’s guard, in column of twos, came into view. Before they arrived on the scene the American cavalrymen had lined up with drawn sabers at a carry, each man and horse motionless.
The Spanish soldiers came through a gap in the hedge in quick time, the Spanish flag leading the column and two trumpeters sounding the advance. The soldiers marched in excellent order, but as they passed General Shafter their eyes moved to the left and they glanced curiously at the men who had served as their targets only a few days before. About 200 soldiers and officers were in the king’s guard, and the little command, after moving down the entire front of the detachment of cavalry, countermarched, and, swinging into line, halted facing the Americans, about ten yards distant.
For a few minutes Americans and Spaniards faced each other, silent and motionless. Then the two trumpeters gave tongue to their horns again; a Spanish officer shouted a command; the Spanish colors dipped in a salute; the Spanish soldiers presented arms and the Spanish officers removed their hats. Captain Brett’s quick, terse command, “Present sabers,” rang over the hillside, and American swords flashed as the sabers swept downward. General Shafter removed his hat, and his officers followed his example. For half a minute—and it seemed longer—the
The formal part of the proceedings came to an end with this little ceremony, then Spanish and American officers mingled, shook hands and exchanged compliments. While the king’s guard and the American cavalrymen were saluting each other the 5th army corps stood on the crest of the parapet of the rifle pits, forming a thin line nearly seven miles long. Only a small part of the army could see the groups of Spanish and American soldiers under the ceiba tree, but every one of the men who had been fighting and living in our trenches strained his eyes to catch a glimpse, if possible, of the proceedings which put an end to hostilities in this part of Cuba.
On the way to Santiago.
After a few minutes of informal talk General Toral and his officers escorted General Shafter and his military family to Santiago.
General Shafter’s entrance was hardly the triumphant march of a victor, for the procession of Americans and Spaniards ambled quietly and unostentatiously over the cobble and blue flag stones, around the little public circles and squares, past ancient churches and picturesque ruins of what once were the homes of wealthy Spaniards, through narrow, alleylike streets to the Plaza de Armas, with the cathedral, the Cafe de Venus, the governor-general’s palace and San Carlos club facing the square.
General Toral was the first to spring from his horse, and he held out his hand and welcomed General Shafter to the “palace.” This was a few minutes after 10 o’clock.
Here General Shafter received the local council and other civic officials, and the governor, seeking to do the honors properly, gave a luncheon to the general and his principal officers.
By this time the 9th infantry had marched into the square and formed two lines, facing the palace, and the band had taken its station in the center of the broad walk, with the American officers grouped in front. Just five minutes before noon General Shafter, General Wheeler, General Lawton and General Kent came from the palace and joined the officers, and Lieutenant Miley, General Shafter’s chief aid-de-camp; Captain McKittrick and Lieutenant Wheeler, General Wheeler’s son, swarmed over the red roof tiles to the flagstaff. Then followed five long, expectant, silent minutes. Some of the officers held watches in their hands, but most of them kept their eyes on the little ball of bunting
And when the last notes of the national air died away and the rifle butts had come to an “order” on the pavement, and the sabers had been slipped into their sheaths, men whose faces and throats were deep brown, whose cheeks were thin, whose limbs trembled with fatigue and Cuban fever, whose heads wore bandages covering wounds made by Spanish bullets, but who stood straight, with heads erect, were not ashamed to wipe from their eyes the tears which came when “old glory” spread its protecting folds over Santiago.
Yellow fever in Shafter’s army.
Yellow fever broke out in the army on July 11, spreading with frightful rapidity among the men, but it fortunately proved to be of a mild type, and in comparatively few instances was the dreaded disease attended with fatal results.
When the landings at Baiquiri and Juragua were made there were many men to be handled, the facilities were limited and the landings were made in great haste. No building was burned, no well was filled, no sink was dug. Several of the enthusiastic young aids seized pretty vineclad cottages as headquarters for their respective generals. Cubans and Americans filed into the empty houses of the town without inquiry as to their antecedents.
Major LeGarde, in charge of the beach hospital, recommended earnestly on landing that every building be burned. Major Wood and Colonel Pope indorsed this, but the recommendation went by default. The camp was established in the heart of the Spanish town and the first yellow-fever case was that of Burr Mclntosh, the actor and newspaper man, who had been sleeping at General Bates’ headquarters in one of the pretty vine-covered cottages mentioned.
Dr. Lesser and his wife, “Sister Bettina,” the New York workers of the Red Cross, were among the first victims, and Katherine White, another Red Cross nurse, was also sent to the yellow-fever camp.
After the fever was discovered every effort was made to check it and stamp it out, but the camp had already been pitted with it. Cases were taken out of the surgical wards of the hospital tents and out of the officers’ tents, General Duffield being one of the victims.
Owing to the unhealthful climate and the lack of proper food, medicines, clothing, and shelter, the army was soon threatened with an epidemic of disease, and it was evident that the detention of the troops in Cuba would result in loss of life to thousands of brave men. In order that the authorities at Washington might have a thorough understanding of the situation, the officers of the 5th army corps united in the following letter which was addressed to General Shafter, and which was transmitted by him to the war department in Washington:
We, the undersigned officers commanding the various brigades, divisions, etc., of the army of occupation in Cuba, are of the unanimous opinion that this army should be at once taken out of the island of Cuba and sent to some point on the northern seacoast of the United States; that it can be done without danger to the people of the United States; that yellow fever in the army at present is not epidemic; that there are only a few sporadic cases; but that the army is disabled by malarial fever to the extent that its efficiency is destroyed, and that it is in a condition to be practically destroyed by an epidemic of yellow fever which is sure to come in the near future.
We know from the reports of competent officers and from personal observation that the army is unable to move into the interior and that there are no facilities for such a move if attempted, and that it could not be attempted until too late. Moreover, the best medical authorities of the island say that with our present equipment we could not live in the interior during the rainy season without losses from malarial fever, which is almost as deadly as yellow fever.
This army must be moved at once or perish. As the army can be safely moved now the persons responsible for preventing such a move will be responsible for the unnecessary loss of many thousands of lives.
Our opinions are the result of careful personal observation, and they are also based on the unanimous opinion of our medical officers with the army, who understand the situation absolutely.
J. Ford Kent, Major-General Volunteers, Commanding First Division Fifth Corps.
J. C. Bates, Major-General Volunteers, Commanding Provisional Division.
Adna R. Chaffee, Major-General Commanding Third Brigade, Second Division.
Samuel S. Sumner, Brigadier-General Volunteers,
Commanding First
Brigade Cavalry.
Will Ludlow, Brigadier-General Volunteers,
Commanding First
Brigade, Second Division.
ADELBERT Ames, Brigadier-General Volunteers, Commanding Third Brigade, First Division.
Leonard wood, Brigadier-General Volunteers, Commanding the City of Santiago.
Theodore Roosevelt, Colonel, Commanding Second Cavalry Brigade.
As a result arrangements were completed as quickly as possible for the transportation of the troops to the United States, and immunes were sent to Santiago for garrison duty in their places.
Another naval engagement.
On the morning of July 18 the vessels on blockade duty in the vicinity of Manzanillo approached the harbor of that city from the westward. The Wilmington and Helena entered the northern channel towards the town, the Scorpion and Osceola the mid-channel, and the Hist, Hornet and Wampatuck the south channel, the movement of the vessels being so timed as to bring them within effective range of the shipping at about the same moment. An attack was made on the Spanish vessels in the harbor, and after a deliberate fire lasting about two and a half hours, three transports, El Gloria, Jose Garcia and La Purrissima Concepcion, were burned and destroyed.
The Pontoon, which was the harbor guard and storeship for ammunition, was burned and blown up. Three gunboats were destroyed, one other was driven ashore and sunk, and another was entirely disabled. No casualties occurred on board any of the American vessels. The Spanish loss was over 100 in killed and wounded, and the Delgado, Guantanamo, Ostralia, Continola and Guardian, gunboats of the Spanish navy, were sent to join Cervera’s fleet.
The invasion of Puerto Rico.
General Miles’ Landing at Ponce—The American Army Received with Cheers and Open Arms by the Native Puerto Ricans—News of Peace Stops a Battle and Brings Hostilities to a Close.
The United States military expedition, under command of Major-General Nelson A. Miles, commanding the army of the United States, left Guantanamo bay on the evening of Thursday, July 21, and was successfully landed at the port of Guanica, island of Puerto Rico, on July 25.
The ships left Guantanamo bay suddenly Thursday evening with the Massachusetts, commanded by Capt. F. J. Higginson, leading. Captain Higginson was in charge of the naval expedition, which consisted of the Columbia, Dixie, Gloucester and Yale. General Miles was on board the last-named vessel. The troops were on board the transports Nueces, Lampasas, Comanche, Rita, Unionist, Stillwater, City of Macon and Specialist.
As soon as the expedition was well under way General Miles called for a consultation, announcing that he was determined not to go by San Juan cape, but by the Mona passage instead, land there, surprise the Spaniards and deceive their military authorities. The course was then changed, and the Dixie was sent to warn General Brooke, who was on his way with his army from the United States, with instructions to meet General Miles at Cape San Juan.
Early on the morning of July 25 the Gloucester, in charge of Lieutenant-Commander Wainwright, steamed into Guanica harbor in order to reconnoiter the place. With the fleet waiting outside, the gallant little fighting yacht braved the mines which were supposed to be in the harbor, and found that there were five fathoms of water close in shore.
The Spaniards were taken completely by surprise. Almost the first they knew of the approach of the army of invasion was in the announcement contained in the firing of a gun from the Gloucester, demanding that the Spaniards haul down their flag, which was floating from a flagstaff in front of a blockhouse standing to the east of the village.
The first couple of three-pounders was fired into the hills right and left of the bay, purposely avoiding the town, lest the projectiles should hurt women and children. The Gloucester then hove to within about 600 yards of the shore, and lowered a launch having on board a Colt rapid-fire gun and thirty men under the command of Lieutenant Huse, which was sent ashore without encountering opposition.
Quartermaster Beck thereupon told Yoeman Lacy to haul down the Spanish flag, which was done, and they then raised on the flagstaff the first United States flag to float over Puerto Rican soil.
Spaniards open fire.
Suddenly about thirty Spaniards opened fire with Mauser rifles on the American party. Lieutenant Huse and his men responded with great gallantry, the Colt gun doing effective work.
Almost immediately after the Spaniards fired on the Americans the Gloucester opened fire on the enemy with all her three and six pounders which could be brought to bear, shelling the town and also dropping shells into the hills to the west of Guanica, where a number of Spanish cavalry were to be seen hastening toward the spot where the Americans had landed.
Lieutenant Huse then threw up a little fort, which he named Fort Wainwright, and laid barbed wire in the street in front of it in order to repel the expected cavalry attack. The lieutenant also mounted the Colt gun and signaled for re-enforcements, which were sent from the Gloucester.
Presently a few of the Spanish cavalry joined those who were fighting in the street of Guanica, but the Colt killed four of them. By that time the Gloucester had the range of the town and of the blockhouse and all her guns were spitting fire, the doctor and the paymaster helping to serve the guns.
Soon afterward white-coated galloping cavalrymen were seen climbing the hills to the westward and the foot soldiers were scurrying along the fences from the town.
By 9:45, with the exception of a few guerrilla shots, the town was won and the enemy was driven out of its neighborhood. The Red Cross nurses on the Lampasas and a detachment of regulars were the first to land from the transports.
After Lieutenant Huse had captured the place he deployed his small force into the suburbs. But he was soon re-enforced by the regulars, who were followed by Company C of the 6th Illinois and then by other troops in quick succession. All the boats of the men-of-war and transports were used in the work of landing the troops, each steam launch towing four or five boats loaded with soldiers. But everything progressed in an orderly manner and according to the plans of General Miles. The latter went ashore about noon, after stopping to board the Gloucester and thank Lieutenant-Commander Wainwright for his gallant action.
On Wednesday, July 27, the Wasp, Annapolis, and Dixie steamed from the port of Guanica to Ponce, prepared, if necessary, to shell the town. The Wasp was the first to arrive, and she found the people of the town waiting, as the news of her coming had preceded her. The Spanish garrison, 350 strong, was paralyzed with fear and wished to surrender or leave, but Colonel San Martin, who was in command, declared that he could not surrender.
The Wasp steamed up close to the shore, with all her guns bearing on the town, and found, instead of an enemy prepared to give battle, a great congregation of people awaiting their arrival. Lieutenant Ward and Executive Officer Wells sent Ensign Rowland Curtin with four men ashore, bearing a flag of truce. They suspected treachery on the part of the Spaniards, and the gunners of the Wasp stood ready to fire at a second’s warning. Ensign Curtin put for the beach as though he had no suspicion of treachery, and as he stepped from the boat the people crowded around him, forcing presents upon him and his men, and welcoming them with rousing cheers.
A message was sent to the Spanish commander, demanding the immediate and unconditional surrender of the city, and Ensign Curtin returned to the Wasp for instructions. In a short time a reply was received from Colonel San Martin, offering to surrender upon the conditions that the garrison should be permitted to retire; that the civil government remain in force; that the police and fire brigade be permitted to patrol without arms, and that the captain of the port should not be made a prisoner. He also imposed the condition that the American soldiers should not advance from the town within forty-eight hours.
Commander Davis, who was anxious to complete the surrender, accepted these conditions and the armor-plated soldiers and policemen then fled to the hills. The Spaniards left 150 rifles and 14,000 rounds of ammunition behind them.
Lieutenant Haines, commanding the marines of the Dixie, went ashore and hoisted the American flag over the custom-house at Port of Ponce amid the cheers of the people. After this Lieutenant Murdoch and Surgeon Heiskell got into a carriage and drove to the city proper, two miles distant, where they received a tremendous ovation. The streets were lined with men, women and children, white and black. Everybody was dancing up and down and yelling: “Viva los Americanos!” “Viva Puerto Rico Libre!”
The storekeepers offered their whole stock to the officers, and declared that they would take no pay for anything. In the Plaza of Justice the people tore down the wooden-gilded crown and would have trampled upon it if the officers had not interfered and saved it as a souvenir.
When General Wilson landed, the firemen lined up to receive him, and the local band played “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Everybody took off his hat and cheered. The custom-house was taken for the American headquarters. The troops landed during the day were the Second and Third Wisconsin and the Sixteenth Pennsylvania regiments.
When the ships arrived all the people who could get small boats rowed out to them and offered to pilot them in. General Wilson at once started in to learn the condition of affairs. He sent men into the town immediately and put a sentry at each foreign consulate. He also detailed a detachment of soldiers to the work of guarding the roads.
General Wilson and General Miles agreed that the conditions of the surrender relating to the movement of troops were not binding.
Despite the arrival of the troops the celebration in the town went on. All the Spanish stores were closed, but the Puerto Ricans and the foreigners kept open house. Women and men alike were all dressed in their finest attire.
Miles issues his proclamation.
At 10 o’clock General Miles issued his proclamation to the inhabitants, which was as follows:
In the prosecution of the war against the kingdom of Spain by the people of the United States, in the cause of liberty, justice and humanity, its military forces have come to occupy the island of Puerto Rico. They come bearing the banners of freedom, inspired by a noble purpose, to seek the enemies of our government and of yours and to destroy or capture all in armed resistance. They bring you the fostering arms of a free people, whose greatest power is justice and humanity to all living within their fold. Hence, they release you from your former political relations, and it is hoped this will be followed by your cheerful acceptance of the government of the United States.
The chief object of the American military forces will be to overthrow the armed authorities of Spain and give the people of your beautiful island the largest measure of liberty consistent with this military occupation. They have not come to make war on the people of the country, who for centuries have been oppressed, but, on the contrary, they bring protection not only to yourselves but to your property, promote your prosperity and bestow the immunities and blessings of our enlightenment and liberal institutions and government.
It is not their purpose to interfere with the existing laws and customs which are wholesome and beneficial to the people so long as they conform to the rules of the military administration, order and justice. This is not a war of devastation and desolation, but one to give all within the control of the military and naval forces the advantages and blessings of enlightened civilization.
In the afternoon General Miles and his staff were invited to the city hall to see the city officials. The city hall was surrounded by a vast crowd of people, and a band was stationed in the park. When the carriages of General Miles and his staff appeared the band played “Lo, the Conquering Hero Comes.” General Miles appeared upon the balcony of the city hall and took off his hat. The crowd cheered him wildly, and the band played “The Star-Spangled Banner,” “Marching Through Georgia,” and other patriotic airs.
General Miles talked to the officials and told them to remain in office. He said he wanted things to go on just as before, but there must be no oppression. He repeated the words of his proclamation, and said that Spaniards who had arms must give them up; if not, they would be regarded as bandits, and not as soldiers, and treated accordingly.
On August 5 the city of Guayama, the principal port on the southeastern coast, was captured after a sharp skirmish with 400 Spaniards. The 4th Ohio, Colonel Coit, and the 3rd Illinois, Colonel Bennitt, with two dynamite guns, all under command of General Haynes, composed the expedition which marched against the town from headquarters at Arroyo. When the Americans had reached a point about three miles from the latter place they were viciously attacked on both their right and left flanks. Colonel Coit’s Ohio troops, who were leading the advance, were splendidly handled and did telling work against the enemy.
The Spaniards for a time managed to conceal themselves behind barricades, but the Americans soon got at them and poured a terrific fire in their direction. It was impossible for the Spaniards long to withstand this fire, and they soon retreated.
As the American troops entered the town they found it practically deserted. All of the houses had been closed, and the Ohio regiment raised its colors over the town hall.
A crowd of citizens soon gathered about the invading troops and welcomed them with enthusiasm. While this demonstration was under way the Spaniards returned, making a heavy attack on the town from the north.
The Fourth Ohio was sent out to engage the enemy and a hot fight between the two bodies of troops took place during the next two hours.
Two dynamite guns finally were put in position by the Americans and five shots were fired. These completely silenced the enemy and they withdrew, leaving the town in possession of our forces.
Coamo was captured on August 9, after a dashing fight, in which the 16th Pennsylvania volunteers won honors, holding the lead in General Wilson’s advance on the town. The skirmishing with the enemy’s outposts began at 8:30 o’clock in the morning. The American troops were armed with Krag-Jorgenson rifles and were supported by artillery. They went into the fight with spirit under the eye of General Ernst, and routed the enemy, killing twelve of them, including the Spanish commander, Colonel Illeroa, capturing the town, and taking 200 prisoners. No Americans lost their lives, but six were wounded, one seriously.
General Wilson’s troops destroyed the Spanish batteries on the heights facing Aibonito, on Friday, August 12, after a brilliant advance of the artillery. The first firing by the battery was at a range of 2,300 yards, which silenced the Spanish guns. Then a portion of the battery, under Lieutenant John P. Haines, of the 4th artillery, was moved forward within 1,000 yards of the enemy’s rifle pits and there drove them out and captured a blockhouse.
The firing of the Spanish riflemen and artillerists was very wild, reaching the American infantry in the hills instead of the attacking battery. Corporal Swanson of the 3rd Wisconsin volunteers was killed by a shell which fell in the midst of the Wisconsin men, and the same missile wounded three others.
News of peace Stops A battle.
The news that peace was at hand reached Guayama on August 13 just in time to interrupt a battle. General Brooke’s force, in three strong columns, had begun an advance toward Cayey to form a junction there with General Wilson’s division, which had been making its way along the main road from Ponce to San Juan.
Three miles out General Brooke’s troops came upon a force of Spanish occupying strong intrenchments on the top of a mountain. Light battery B, Pennsylvania artillery, unlimbered its guns, loaded them with shells and had just received the order to commence firing when a message from General Miles announcing peace was received on the field over a military telegraph wire. The battery immediately was signaled to cease action, to the surprise of all the men, who were keyed up for battle. The news that the war was over spread rapidly among the soldiers, causing general disappointment, for the officers could do nothing but leave the battle unfought and withdraw their troops. All returned to their former camp at Guayama.
The signing of the treaty of peace by the United States and Spain came too soon to suit the commanders of the invading army in Puerto Rico. Their plans had been perfectly formed and were almost executed. The simultaneous advance of the four divisions toward San Juan was interrupted in the very midst of the successful movement. If it could have been carried out as contemplated it would have been an invaluable lesson to the Puerto Ricans, quelling such pro-Spanish sentiment as existed and rendering American occupation and government of the island a comparatively simple matter.
General Miles felt this and regretted that he was not permitted to complete the masterly military movement so carefully begun and so successfully carried forward. The occupation of Puerto Rico was made with a loss to the Americans of two killed and thirty-seven wounded.
The surrender of Manila.
Landing of General Merritt at Manila—The German Fleet Warned by Admiral Dewey—The Ladrone Islands—Fierce Battle in Darkness and Storm—Foreign Warships Notified of the Attack—Combined Assault by Dewey and Merritt—The City Surrenders.
In the meantime, far away in the Philippines, Admiral Dewey was sustaining the reputation he made at the outbreak of hostilities. After the battle of Manila there remained but three Spanish warships in Pacific waters. One of them was in dry dock at Hongkong and the two others were in hiding in the waters of the Philippine group. The admiral dispatched the gunboat Concord and a cruiser to locate and destroy the two Spanish vessels. The Concord soon discovered the Argos, and after a lively battle lasting thirty minutes the Spanish ship was sunk with all on board and her colors flying. Not a man was lost or injured on the Concord, nor did the ship sustain any damage.
The first American army to sail for foreign shores left San Francisco May 25. At 4 o’clock in the afternoon Brigadier-General Anderson signaled from the Australia for the City of Pekin and the City of Sydney to get under way. The signal was seen from the shore, and the waiting crowds cheered wildly. No time was lost on board the transports. The crews worked with a will and in a short time the anchors were up and the vessels were under way. Then the 2,500 soldiers who had been impatiently awaiting the signal to start climbed to the rigging and swarmed all over the big ships, shouting and cheering like mad.
The big transports steamed slowly along the water front, and the crowd on shore raced along to keep them in sight. The noise made by the patriotic citizens on sea and shore was something terrible. Every steam whistle in the city appeared to be blowing, cannon were fired, and the din lasted fully an hour.
The three transports carried close on to 2,500 men. The expedition, which was under the command of Brigadier-General Anderson, consisted of four companies of regulars, under command of Major Robe; the First Regiment California Volunteers, Colonel Smith; the First Regiment Oregon Volunteers, Colonel Summers; a battalion of fifty heavy artillery, Major Gary; about 100 sailors, and eleven naval officers. The fleet was loaded with supplies to last a year, and carried a big cargo of ammunition and naval stores for Admiral Dewey’s fleet.
Four transports bearing about 4,000 men passed through the Golden Gate shortly after 1 o’clock on the 15th of June, amid scenes of great enthusiasm and patriotism unequaled in the history of San Francisco. The four vessels which carried the troops were the China, Colon, Zealandia and Senator. The fleet was accompanied down the bay by a large number of tugboats and bay steamers.
It was a few minutes past 1 o’clock when the China hoisted the blue Peter and warned the fleet to get under way. The Senator had slipped into the stream and straightened out for the run to Manila. When she reached the stream the China swung away from her anchorage and started down the bay, followed by the Colon and Zealandia and a long line of tugboats and steamers.
At 1:30 p. m. the fleet was off Lombard street and a few minutes later it was steaming past Meiggs’ wharf. Thousands of people, attracted by the blowing of whistles, rushed to points of vantage on the city front and cheered the departing boats. Soldiers crowded the fort at the point and shouted and waved their hats as the squadron passed out through the Golden Gate. A heavy fog lay outside the bar, and before 2 o’clock the transports were lost in the mists.
Assigned to the China, General Greene’s flagship, and the largest, finest and fastest vessel of the fleet, was the First Eegiment Colorado Volunteer Infantry, 1,022 men; half a battalion of the Eighteenth United States Infantry, 150 men, and a detachment of United States engineers, 20 men.
The Colon took four companies of the Twenty-third Infantry and two companies of the Eighteenth Infantry, both of the regular army, and Battery A of the Utah Artillery. In the battery were twelve men and in each of the infantry companies seventy-five men, besides the officers, making less than 600 military passengers. The control of the ship was given to Lieutenant-Colonel Clarence W. Bailey, of the Eighteenth Infantry.
On the Zealandia were the Tenth Pennsylvania Volunteers and part of Battery B of the Utah Volunteer Artillery. With the gunners went two Maxim fighting machines, which as a precautionary measure were placed ready for action in the bow of the vessel. In all there were 640 privates and 60 officers on board.
On the steamer Senator was the First Regiment of Nebraska Volunteers, numbering 1,023 men and officers.
Took the Ladrones.
The United States cruiser Charleston, with the troopships City of Sydney, City of Pekin and Australia, arrived off Cavite on the 30th of June. They left Honolulu, June 4, with sealed orders from Washington to capture the island of Guam, chief of the Ladrone Islands, and the seat of Spanish government.
The American cruiser and the transports arrived at Guam on the morning of June 20. They passed the unoccupied Fort Santiago and advanced opposite Fort Santa Cruz. The Charleston then fired twelve shots, but, receiving no response from the fort, it steamed on to Port Luis de Appa, where Agana, the capital of the Ladrone Islands, is situated.
That afternoon the captain of the port and the health officer came aboard the Charleston and were informed to their astonishment that they were prisoners of war. They had not heard that war existed between the United States and Spain, and they had thought the firing by the Charleston was a salute of courtesy. They said Governor Marina regretted that he had no powder for his cannon with which to return the salute. Those surprised Spaniards were thereupon sent ashore to request the Governor of the islands to come on board the Charleston. In reply the Governor sent his official interpreter and secretary to say to the Americans that the Spanish laws forbade him to leave the shore during his term of office. However, he invited Captain Glass of the Charleston to a conference on shore the next morning and guaranteed his safety. Captain Glass sent Lieutenant Braunersreuther to meet the Governor and deliver an ultimatum demanding the surrender of the Ladrones, giving the Governor thirty minutes in which to consider the matter. Lieutenant Braunersreuther was accompanied by two companies of Oregon Volunteers.
The governor surrendered gracefully within the allotted time. Thereupon forty-six marines from the Charleston landed and disarmed the 108 Spanish soldiers, confiscated their 116 rifles and 10,000 rounds of ammunition. The natives were allowed to retain their weapons. They all showed delight in renouncing Spanish authority, and tore off the Spanish regalia from their uniforms with many expressions of satisfaction.
General Merritt arrived in Manila bay on July 25, and after reporting to Admiral Dewey assumed command of the American troops in the Philippines. He lost no time in making himself familiar with the situation, and established headquarters at the Cavite arsenal.
The German fleet at Manila.
As soon as the American blockade of Manila was declared, Germany began to enlarge her fleet in those waters until all but three of the German men-of-war on the Asiatic station were either in Manila bay or its vicinity. The German naval officers took pains to show particular friendliness towards the Spaniards, as for example in saluting the Spanish flag at Manila on the arrival of every additional ship. The German officers visited the Spanish fortifications and trenches, and the Manila newspapers asserted that the presence before the city of so many German ships enabled the Spanish authorities and the people of Manila to regard the American fleet with complacency.
On June 27 the McCulloch met the Irene, one of the German fleet, at Corregidor island, preparing to enter the bay, and signaled to her: “We wish to communicate with you.” The Irene paid no attention to the signal, and proceeded on her way until a small boat was sent out to her from the McCulloch. The captain of the Irene explained the matter by saying that he had misunderstood the signal. The action of the Irene in interfering with the attack by the insurgent vessel, Filipinas, on the Spanish garrison at Isla Grande, in Subig bay, was in line with the attitude adopted by the German naval officers.
The Filipinas, a steamer of about 700 tons, loaded with a half cargo of tobacco, was in hiding in the coves around Subig bay. She was owned and officered by Spaniards, but her crew was a native one. The crew mutinied and killed the twelve officers. They then took charge of the ship and hoisted the insurgent flag. On the shore of Subig bay, and chiefly in the town of Subig, were 400 Spanish soldiers. As the insurgent forces on the land began to close in on them they fled in a body to the Isla de Grande, near the mouth of Subig bay, taking with them 100 sick and about 100 women. They retained their small arms and had only one Maxim gun. The insurgents hoped to starve them into submission. About this time the Filipinas incident occurred, whereby she passed from the Spanish to the insurgents. Two hundred insurgent soldiers took the ship and approached the island and fired on the Spaniards. Their firing was ineffective, but after awhile the Spaniards, probably realizing the ultimate hopelessness of their position, hoisted the white flag. At almost the same time the German cruiser approached from within the bay and the Spaniards hauled down the white flag, for they evidently had reason to hope for interference by the Germans. The German ship at once advanced to the Filipinas and said that the flag she flew was not recognized, and if it were not at once hauled down and a white one substituted she would be taken with her crew to Manila as prisoners. The Filipinas at once hauled down the insurgent flag, hoisted the white one and started immediately south to Manila bay. All this happened July 6. She arrived off the American flagship late in the evening and the insurgents at once reported the matter to the admiral.
Dewey protects the insurgents.
Admiral Dewey sent the insurgent ship into a safe anchorage. At 12 o’clock midnight the Raleigh and Concord quietly drew up their anchors and left the bay. They proceeded at once to Subig bay, fired several times on the island, where the Spaniards were, and the latter promptly surrendered. The Irene had disappeared when they arrived, although she had been in Subig bay for several days for the expressed purpose of protecting German interests. The Concord then returned to report to Admiral Dewey and find out what should be done with the 600 Spaniards captured. The Raleigh remained at Subig on guard. During the 7th the insurgent leader, Mr. Seyba, came out to the flagship for permission to take the Filipinas and go to Subig for the purpose of capturing the island. The admiral told him that it had already been done. Seyba went aboard the Filipinas with a strong force of men and left the harbor.
The Concord, when she returned to report the matter to the admiral, bore a letter from Captain Coghlan of the Raleigh begging that the Spaniards captured be made American prisoners, and that they be not turned over to the insurgents, as Admiral Dewey’s original orders demanded. The Concord was sent back with instructions to turn the prisoners over to Aguinaldo, but he exacted an ironclad promise that they should be well and carefully cared for.
Finally Admiral Dewey sent an officer to the German flagship with a request that Admiral Diederichs make a statement of the German attitude in the matter of the blockade of Manila. The German admiral sent an immediate explanation. Two days later, however, he sent a protest to Admiral Dewey against the action of American officers in boarding German ships coming to Manila from Marivles. He cited the incident of the McCulloch and the Irene at Corregidor.
Admiral Dewey replied to this very courteously but very firmly. He pointed out to the German admiral that international law gave to the commander of a blockading fleet authority to communicate with all ships entering a blockaded port. As international law permitted warships to fly any flag they chose in order to deceive the enemy, the nationality of vessels entering the bay could not be absolutely determined without communicating with them. For the German admiral’s further information Admiral Dewey told him that if Germany was at peace with the United States the German naval officers would have to change their methods, and that if Germany was at war with his nation he desired to know it at once in order that he might act accordingly.
The Philippine insurgents under Aguinaldo continued their savage attacks, and gradually closed in on the city of Manila. They were working independently of the American forces under General Merritt, and it was apparent that they did not intend to recognize American authority. The Spanish residents of Manila, fearing that the capture of the city by Aguinaldo would be followed by pillage and slaughter, appealed to the captain-general to surrender to the American forces, but that official was determined to resist, in the face of the fact that resistance could only delay defeat.
Battle in A storm.
On the night of July 31 the soil of the Philippines was drenched with American blood. Our troops were strengthening their position near the Spanish fort guarding the southern approach to Manila, in the suburbs of that city. The Spanish, knowing their situation to be growing every day more hopeless, made a concerted sortie on the American right flank, held by the 10th Pennsylvania troops. The scene of the battle was at a place called Malate, which is located half way between Cavite and the city of Manila. Here General Greene was in command of 4,000 men. The arrival of the third expedition filled the Spaniards with rage, and they determined to give battle before Camp Dewey could be re-enforced. In the midst of a raging typhoon, with a tremendous downpour of rain, 3,000 Spanish soldiers attempted to surprise the camp. The American pickets were driven in and the trenches assaulted. The Pennsylvania troops did not flinch, but stood their ground under a withering fire. The alarm spread and the 1st California regiment, with two companies of the 3rd artillery, who fought with rifles, were sent up to re-enforce the Pennsylvanians. The enemy was on top of the trenches when these re-enforcements arrived, and never was the discipline of the regulars better demonstrated than by the work of the 3rd artillery under Captain O’Hara. Nothing could be seen but the flash of Mauser rifles. The Utah battery, under Captain Young, covered itself with glory. The men pulled their guns through mud axle deep, and poured in a destructive enfilading fire.
The enemy was repulsed and retreated in disorder. Our infantry had exhausted its ammunition and did not follow. Not an inch of ground was lost, but the scene in the trenches was one never to be forgotten. During the flashes of lightning the dead and wounded could be seen lying in blood-red water, but neither the elements of heaven nor the destructive power of man could wring a cry of protest from the wounded. They encouraged their comrades to fight and handed over their cartridge belts.
The fighting was renewed on the night of August 1, and again the following evening, but the enemy had been taught a lesson, and made the attacks at long range with heavy artillery. The total American loss was fourteen killed and forty-four wounded. The Spaniards had 350 killed and over 900 wounded.
On August 5 the Spaniards again attacked the American outworks. The trenches were occupied by a battalion each of the 14th and 23rd regulars and Nebraska volunteers, the latter holding the extreme right and a company of regulars the extreme left. They returned the Spanish fire and the battle lasted for a half an hour. Three Americans were killed, and eleven wounded, four of them seriously.
The city surrenders.
Admiral Dewey and General Merritt sent an ultimatum to the authorities in Manila on Monday, August 8, notifying them that at the expiration of forty-eight hours the land and naval forces of the American army would attack the city, unless they surrendered before that time. When this time had expired the Spaniards asked an extension of one day more, in order that they might remove their sick and wounded and the women and children and non-combatants. This request was granted.
The foreign warships in the bay were notified of the attack, all of them withdrawing out of range. The English and Japanese warships joined the American fleet off Cavite, and the French and German warships steamed to the north of the city, where they were out of range.
The attack was arranged for the 9th inst, but at the last minute General Merritt requested that the fleet postpone the bombardment until his lines could be extended farther around the city. Then Admiral Dewey informed the Spaniards that the attack would be made on Saturday; that he would destroy Fort Malate and shell the trenches, thus destroying the opposition to the land forces entering the city; that he would not fire on Manila unless their guns opened on his ships, in which case he would destroy the city.
At 9 o’clock on the morning of Saturday the American fleet, with battle flags flying at every masthead, left Cavite, the band on the British warship Immortalite playing “El Capitan” at the departure.
The agreement between Dewey and Merritt was to get under way with the fleet standing toward the city at the same time the troops pressed forward ready to force an entrance when the ships had destroyed the forts.
With the fleet the Olympia led the way, attended by the Raleigh and the Petrel, while the Calloa under Lieutenant Tappan and the launch Barcolo crept close inshore in the heavy breakers.
Perfect quiet prevailed in the lines on both sides as the great ships, cleared for action, silently advanced, sometimes hidden by rain squalls. The Monterey, with the Baltimore, Charleston and Boston, formed the reserve.
At 9:35 a sudden cloud of smoke, green and white against the stormy sky, completely hid the Olympia, a shell screamed across two miles of turbulent water and burst near the Spanish fort at Milate San Antonio de Abad. Then the Petrel and Raleigh and the active little Calloa opened a rapid fire directed toward the shore end of the intrenchments. In the heavy rain it was difficult to judge the range, and the shots at first fell short, but the fire soon became accurate and shells rendered the fort untenable, while the four guns of the Utah battery made excellent practice of the earthworks and swamp to the east of the fort. The Spaniards replied with a few shells.
Less than half an hour after the bombardment began General Greene decided that it was possible to advance, although the signals to cease firing were disregarded by the fleet, being invisible on account of the rain. Thereupon six companies of the Colorado regiment leaped over their breastworks, dashed into the swamp and began volley firing from the partial shelter of low hedges within 300 yards of the Spanish lines. A few moments later the remaining six companies moved along the seashore, somewhat covered by a sand ridge formed by an inlet under the outworks of the fort, and at 11 o’clock occupied this formidable stronghold without loss.
Meanwhile the fleet, observing the movement of the troops along the beach, withheld its fire. The bombardment had lasted exactly an hour and a half. An hour later General Greene and his staff proceeded along the beach, still under a hot infantry fire from the right, where the Eighteenth regulars and the Third regular artillery were engaging the enemy, and directed the movement for an advance into Malate. The vicinity of the fort was uncomfortable on account of numbers of sharpshooters in the buildings on both sides, 200 yards distant. The forward movement was therefore hastened, and in a few minutes the outskirts of the suburb were well occupied and the sharpshooters were driven away.
As the Californians under Colonel Smith came up the beach their band played the national air, accompanied by the whistling of Mauser bullets, and during the sharpshooting continued to encourage the men with inspiring music. Each regiment carried its colors into action. There was considerable street fighting in the suburbs of Malate and Ermita, but the battalion of Californians pushed into the Luneta, a popular promenade within two hundred yards of the moat of the citadel. Then the white flag was hoisted at the southwest corner of the walled town. General Greene, with a few members of his staff, galloped along the Luneta, under a sharp scattering fire from the houses near the beach, and parleyed with an officer who directed him along to the gate, further east.
At this moment the Spanish forces, retreating from Santa Ana, came into view, fully 2,000 strong, followed by insurgents who had eluded General McArthur’s troops, and now opened fire for a brief period. The situation was awkward if not critical, both sides being slightly suspicious of treachery. The Spanish troops lining the citadel ramparts, observing the insurgents’ action, opened fire on the Californians, killing one and wounding three. The confusion, however, soon ceased by the advance of the retreating Spaniards to the esplanade, when General Greene ordered them to enter the citadel.
Soon a letter was brought from the captain general requesting the commander of the troops to meet him for consultation.
General Greene immediately entered with Adjutant General Bates. Meanwhile, according to arrangement, the moment the white flag was shown, General Merritt, who occupied the steamer Zafiro as temporary corps headquarters, sent General Whittier, with Flag Lieutenant Brumby, ashore to meet the captain general and discuss first a plan of capitulation. General Whittier found the officials much startled by the news that the attack was still vigorously continuing along the whole line, the American troops even threatening the citadel.
Spanish troops massed.
All available Spanish troops were immediately massed in the vicinity of the palace, awaiting the succession of events, concerning which a certain degree of anxiety was evident.
General Merritt entered with his staff at 3 o’clock. The situation was then better understood, and a conference with General Jaudenes was held. The terms agreed on were as follows:
An agreement for the capitulation of the Philippines.
A provision for disarming the men who remain organized under the command of their officers, no parole being exacted.
Necessary supplies to be furnished from the captured treasury funds, any possible deficiency being made good by the Americans.
The safety of life and property of the Spanish soldiers and citizens to be guaranteed as far as possible.
The question of transporting the troops to Spain to be referred to the decision of the Washington government, and that of returning their arms to the soldiers to be left to the discretion of General Merritt.
Banks and similar institutions to continue operations under existing regulations, unless these are changed by the United States authorities.
Lieutenant Brumby, immediately after the terms of capitulation had been signed, hurried off to lower the Spanish flag—in reality to lower all Spain’s flags in the Philippines by taking down one. He was accompanied by two signal men from the Olympia.
This little party found its way after great difficulty into Fort Santiago in the northern portion of the walled city.
There a large Spanish flag was flying. Grouped about it were many Spanish officers. Brumby’s presence there in the victorious uniform attracted a crowd from the streets.
Raises the stars and stripes.
They hissed as he approached to haul down the flag. Then the stars and stripes rose in place of the other.
Many of those present wept bitterly as the flag of the victorious stranger climbed into place above the fort.
Fearing that the crowd might lower “old glory,” Lieutenant Brumby asked an American infantry officer to move up a detachment to guard it. Fortunately, he met a company coming up with a band.
The infantrymen presented arms and the band played “The Star-Spangled Banner,” accompanied by the cheers of the soldiers, in which many of the residents of the city joined.
The total American loss in the day’s battle was eight killed and thirty-four wounded. The Spaniards had 150 killed and over 300 wounded.
The Americans took 11,000 prisoners, 7,000 being Spanish regulars; 20,000 Mauser rifles, 3,000 Remingtons, eighteen modern cannon and many of the obsolete pattern.
Great credit was given to General Merritt for his plan of attack, which was successfully carried out in every detail under unusually complicated conditions. Nor was commendation withheld from Chief of Staff General Babcock for his expert co-operation in the admirably conceived strategy. Prompt action and strictly following fully detailed orders resulted in every case in the immediate settlement of every difficulty, however threatening. The conduct of the Spanish was in a few cases reprehensible, such as their setting fire to the gunboat Cebu and the destruction of several armed launches and boats after the capitulation had been agreed upon.
It fell to the lot of Admiral Dewey to open and to close the active operations of the war. His destruction of the Spanish fleet was the first engagement of the war. After fighting had ceased in the western hemisphere, under instructions from the President in accordance with the peace agreement, Admiral Dewey forced Manila to surrender under fire of the guns of his fleet.
VICTORIOUS CLOSE OF THE WAR
Spain Sues for Peace—President McKinley’s Ultimatum—French Ambassador Cambon Acts on Behalf of Spain—The President’s Proclamation—The Protocol—Spanish Losses in Men, Ships and Territory—Appointment of the Evacuation Committees and the Peace Commission.
On Tuesday, July 26, the Spanish government took the first well defined step to bring about a cessation of hostilities. The French ambassador, accompanied by his secretary of embassy, called on President McKinley, and under instructions from his government and at the request of the Spanish minister of foreign affairs, opened peace negotiations by declaring that Spain was ready to consider terms. The proposition submitted by the ambassador acting for the Spanish government was in general terms, and was confined to the one essential point of an earnest plea that negotiations be opened for the purpose of terminating the war.
Owing to the importance of the communication the ambassador adopted the usual diplomatic procedure of reading the communication from the original, in French, the translation being submitted by M. Thiebaut. In the conversation which followed the reading of the proposition neither the president nor the ambassador entered upon the question of the terms of peace. The instructions of the ambassador had confined him to the opening of peace negotiations, and it was evident that the President desired to consider the proposition before giving any definite reply. It was finally determined that the President would consult the members of his cabinet, and after a decision had been arrived at M. Cambon would then be invited to the white house for a further conference and for a final answer from the United States government. Before the call closed a brief official memorandum was agreed upon in order to set at rest misleading conjecture and to give to the public information on a subject which had advanced beyond the point where diplomatic reserve was essential.
After cabinet discussions on Friday and Saturday regarding the concessions which should be demanded from Spain a definite agreement was reached, and the French ambassador was notified that the President was prepared to deliver his ultimatum. The demands made by the President were briefly as follows:
1. That Spain will relinquish all claims of sovereignty over and title to Cuba.
2. That Puerto Rico and other Spanish islands in the West Indies, and an island in the Ladrones, to be selected by the United States, shall be ceded to the latter.
3. That the United States will occupy and hold the city, bay and harbor of Manila pending the conclusion of a treaty of peace, which shall determine the control, disposition and government of the Philippines.
4. That Cuba, Puerto Rico and other Spanish islands in the West Indies shall be immediately evacuated, and that commissioners, to be appointed within ten days, shall within thirty days from the signing of the protocol meet at Havana and San Juan, respectively, to arrange and execute the details of the evacuation.
5. That the United States and Spain will each appoint not more than five commissioners to negotiate and conclude a treaty of peace. The commissioners to meet at Paris not later than October 1.
6. On the signing of the protocol hostilities will be suspended, and notice to that effect will be given as soon as possible by each government to the commanders of its military and naval forces.
Spanish diplomacy was as usual in evidence, and attempts were made by the Madrid administration to modify the terms, so as to relieve the Spanish government of at least a portion of the Cuban debt, but the authorities in Washington were firm and insisted that no such suggestion could be considered, and that there could be no further discussion until the Spanish flag had been withdrawn from the West Indies.
On August 12 Ambassador Cambon received official notice from the administration at Madrid that his action in agreeing to the terms of the protocol was approved, and he was authorized to sign it, as the representative of the Spanish government. Accordingly, at four o’clock on the afternoon of that day, he presented himself at the President’s mansion, in company with his first secretary, M. Thiebaut, where he was met by President McKinley, Secretary of State Day, and Assistant Secretaries of State Moore, Adee and Cridler.
Two copies of the protocol had been prepared, one in English for preservation by this government, and the other in French for the Spanish government. The signatures and seals were formally attached, Secretary Day signing one copy in advance of M. Cambon, the order being reversed on the other.
The President then congratulated the French ambassador upon the part he had taken in securing a suspension of hostilities and thanked him for the earnest efforts he had made to facilitate a speedy conclusion. M. Cambon then bowed himself out of the room and left the white house with the copy of the protocol, which he will forward to Spain. The seal used by the French ambassador was that of Spain, which had been left with him when the Spanish minister withdrew from Washington.
Full text of the protocol.
His Excellency, M. Cambon, Ambassador Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary of the French Republic at Washington, and Mr. William Day, Secretary of State of the United States, having received respectively to that effect plenary powers from the Spanish Government and the Government of the United States, have established and signed the following articles which define the terms on which the two governments have agreed with regard to the questions enumerated below and of which the object is the establishment of peace between the two countries—namely:
Article 1. Spain will renounce all claim to all sovereignty over and all her rights over the Island of Cuba.
Article 2. Spain will cede to the United States the Island of Puerto Rico and the other islands which are at present under the sovereignty of Spain in the Antilles, as well as an island in Ladrona Archipelago, to be chosen by the United States.
Article 3. The United States will occupy and retain the City and Bay of San Juan de Puerto Rico and the Port of Manila and Bay of Manila pending the conclusion of a treaty of peace which shall determine the control and form of government of the Philippines.
Article 4. Spain will immediately evacuate Cuba, Puerto Rico, and the other islands now under Spanish sovereignty in the Antilles. To this effect each of the two governments will appoint commissioners within ten days after the signing of this protocol, and these commissioners shall meet at Havana within thirty days after the signing of this protocol with the object of coming to an agreement regarding the carrying out of the details of the aforesaid evacuation of Cuba and other adjacent Spanish islands; and each of the two governments shall likewise appoint within ten days after the signature of this protocol other commissioners, who shall meet at San Juan de Puerto Rico within thirty days after the signature of this protocol, to agree upon the details of the evacuation of Puerto Rico and other islands now under Spanish sovereignty in the Antilles.
Article 5. Spain and the United States shall appoint to treat for peace five commissioners at the most for either country. The commissioners shall meet in Paris on Oct. 1 at the latest to proceed to negotiations and to the conclusion of a treaty of peace. This treaty shall be ratified in conformity with the constitutional laws of each of the two countries.
Article 6. Once this protocol is concluded and signed hostilities shall be suspended, and to that effect in the two countries orders shall be given by either government to the commanders of its land and sea forces as speedily as possible.
Done in duplicate at Washington, read in French and in English by the undersigned, who affix at the foot of the document their signatures and seals, Aug. 12, 1898
Jules Cambon. William R. Day.
The President immediately issued the following proclamation:
By the President of the United States of America—A Proclamation.
Whereas, By a protocol concluded and signed Aug. 12, 1898, by William R. Day, Secretary of State of the United States, and His Excellency Jules Cambon, Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary of the Republic of France at Washington, respectively representing for this purpose the Government of the United States and the Government of Spain, the United States and Spain have formally agreed upon the terms on which negotiations for the establishment of peace between the two countries shall be undertaken; and,
Whereas, It is in said protocol agreed that upon its conclusion and signature hostilities between the two countries shall be suspended, and that notice to that effect shall be given as soon as possible by each government to the commanders of its military and naval forces:
Now, therefore, I, William McKinley, President of the United States, do, in accordance with the stipulations of the protocol, declare and proclaim on the part of the United States a suspension of hostilities, and do hereby command that orders be immediately given through the proper channels to the commanders of the military and naval forces of the United States to abstain from all acts inconsistent with this proclamation.
In witness whereof I have hereunto set my hand and caused the seal of the United States to be affixed.
Done at the city of Washington, this 12th day of August, in the year of our Lord One Thousand Eight Hundred and Ninety-Eight, and of the independence of the United States the one hundred and twenty-third.
William McKINLEY.
By the President: William R. Day, Secretary of State.
In accordance with the proclamation issued by the President orders were issued to the naval commanders at the several stations in the United States, Cuba and the Philippines carrying into effect the directions of the proclamation. The navy department not only transmitted the President’s proclamation in full to the several commanders in chief, but also directions as to the disposition of their vessels.
Navy Department, Washington, D. C., Aug. 12.—Sampson, Santiago: Suspend all hostilities. Blockade of Cuba arud Puerto Rico is raised. Howell ordered to assemble vessels at Key West. Proceed with New York, Brooklyn, Indiana, Oregon, Iowa and Massachusetts to Tompkinsville. Place monitors in safe harbor in Puerto Rico. Watson transfers his flag to Newark and will remain at Guantanamo. Assemble all cruisers in safe harbors. Order marines north in Resolute.
Allen, Acting Secretary.
Navy Department, Washington, D. C., Aug. 12.—Remey, Key West: In accordance with the President’s proclamation telegraphed you, suspend immediately all hostilities. Commence withdrawal of vessels from blockade. Order blockading vessels in Cuban waters to assemble at Key West.
Allen, Acting Secretary.
Similar notification was sent to Admiral Dewey, with instructions to cease hostilities and raise the blockade at Manila.
The orders to General Merritt to suspend were as follows:
Adjutant-General’s Office, Washington, D. C., Aug. 12, 1898.— Merritt, Manila: The President directs all military operations against the enemy be suspended. Peace negotiations are nearing completion, a protocol having just been signed by representatives of the two countries. You will inform the commanders of the Spanish forces in the Philippines of these instructions. Further orders will follow. Acknowledge receipt. By order of the Secretary of War.
H. C. Corbin, Adjutant-General.
The orders sent to General Miles and General Shafter were identical with the above save as to names.
Senor Palma, the head of the Cuban Junta, sent the following cable by way of Santiago:
Bartolome Maso, President Cuban Republic, Santiago, Cuba; I have this 13th day of August, 1898, accepted, in the name of the Cuban provisional government, the armistice proclaimed by the United States. You should give immediate orders to the army throughout Cuba suspending all hostilities. Preliminary terms of peace, signed by representatives of Spain and the United States, provide that Spain will relinquish all claim over and title to Cuba.
T. Estrada Palma.
On August 16 the President appointed as military commissioners
Major-General James F. Wade, Rear-Admiral William
T. Sampson, and
Major-General Matthew C. Butler for Cuba, and Major-General
John
E. Brooke, Rear-Admiral Winfield S. Schley, and Brigadier-General
William W. Gordon for Puerto Rico.
As soon as General Shafter received the President’s proclamation for the cessation of hostilities he took steps for the immediate notification of the Spanish commanders in the vicinity, and also the insurgent leaders.
The proclamation was received in Santiago with the greatest enthusiasm, the officers and men of the army being alike supremely satisfied with the definite declaration of peace. After the fall of Santiago a period of uncertainty and inactivity had had its effect upon the soldiers stationed there. The weary waiting for new developments, weakened by the enervating climate, watching the insidious ravages of disease, sapped the spirits of all, and the news that brought to them a near prospect of home was like a bracing breeze that swept through the camp, giving new courage to all.
The end of the war.
Thus came to a close our war with Spain for Cuba’s freedom. Commenced in a spirit of vengeance for the destruction of a battleship, the war was conducted with singular freedom, all the circumstances considered, from vindictiveness. We struck hard, but quickly. We compelled victories, destroyed fleets, but were merciful and considerate towards the captured. There was singularly little revilement of the Spanish enemy and the bravery of the Spanish soldier and sailor was freely admitted. But mere personal valor could not supply the place of skill and discipline.
In all history there is not an instance of such unchecked successes as attended our military operations. For us the encounters were not bloody, the victories were not dearly purchased. At sea we destroyed squadrons without the loss of a man or a ship; on land we compelled the surrender of garrisons strongly intrenched. In Puerto Rico our march was a triumphal procession.
Spain, for the sake of false pride, bigotry, politics and a child king, buried in the depths of the sea thirty-five vessels of her navy, valued at $36,500,000. By their rusting hulks lie the bodies of more than a thousand gallant tars. She surrendered in territory to the United States directly Cuba, with a population of 1,500,000 and an area of 45,000 square miles, and Puerto Rico, with a population of 810,000 and an area of 3,670 square miles. Her total direct loss of territory in square miles was 48,670, and loss in population 2,310,000. She also jeopardized, probably beyond all future control by her, the Philippine islands, with a population of 8,000,000 and an area of 114,326 square miles. So that in the end it appears the Spanish kingdom for the sake of the wrong gave up 163,000 square miles of territory and over 10,000,000 of tax-paying population.
This loss was the gain of the United States, which, to bring it about, placed in service a first-class navy, with 10,000 men and fifty effective vessels, and a volunteer and regular army of 278,500 men, of which New York gave the largest number, Pennsylvania next and Illinois the third.
When the present century began Spain was mistress over nearly all of the southern continent of America and over a good share of the northern continent. With the exception of Brazil, to which the Portuguese held title, practically all of South America was Spanish. So was Central America, the present Mexico, and nearly a million square miles of the southwestern part of the United States. The revolutions of the early decades of the century stripped off much of that domain, and now the last shreds of it are also gone. The same policy of persistent greed and of deadly disregard to the interests of the governed that caused the early revolutions has also caused the later ones, for the sake of which the United States began its interference in the Antilles.
Now nothing is left to the former queen of all the empires and kingdoms which once were subject to her and brought her glory and power among the nations. Her own sons have read to her the lesson that exploitation cannot continue forever, and that unless the conqueror has regard for the interests of the conquered the seeds of disruption will surely be sown.
Personal reminiscences.
Telling How Our Soldiers Lived—What They, Saw—How They Fought— Hardships Endured—Bravery Shown in the Face of the Deadly Mauser Bullets as Well as Fever-Stricken Camps, Etc., Etc.
Charles E. Hands, writing from Santiago to the London Mail, says of the wounded after the battle of July 1 and 2:
There was one man on the road whose left foot was heavily bandaged and drawn up from the ground. He had provided himself with a sort of rough crutch made of the forked limb of a tree, which he had padded with a bundle of clothes. With the assistance of this and a short stick he was paddling briskly along when I overtook him.
“Where did they get you, neighbor?” I asked him.
“Oh, durn their skins,” he said in the cheerfulest way, turning to me with a smile, “they got me twice—a splinter of a shell in the foot and a bullet through the calf of the same leg when I was being carried back from the firing line.”
“A sharpshooter?”
“The son of a mongrel was up in a tree.”
“And you’re walking back to Siboney. Wasn’t there room for you to ride?” I expected an angry outburst of indignation in reply to this question. But I was mistaken. In a plain, matter-of-fact way he said:
“Guess not. They wanted all the riding room for worse cases ’n mine. Thank God, my two wounds are both in the same leg, so I can walk quite good and spry. They told me I’d be better off down at the landing yonder, so I got these crutches and made a break.”
“And how are you getting along?” I asked.
“Good and well,” he said, as cheerfully as might be, “just good and easy.” And with his one sound leg and hist two sticks he went cheerfully paddling along.
It was just the same with other walking wounded men. They were all beautifully cheerful. And not merely cheerful. They were all absolutely unconscious that they were undergoing any unnecessary hardships or sufferings. They knew now that war was no picnic, and they were not complaining at the absence of picnic fare. Some of them had lain out all the night, with the dew falling on them where the bullets had dropped them, before their turn came with the overworked field surgeons.
Captain Paddock tells of the fighting before Santiago.
On the Battlefield, One Mile East of Santiago, Sunday, July 3.
My Dear “Jim”: I have passed safely through the most horrible three days imaginable. We marched nearly all night Thursday (June 30), to a point about one and a half miles east from here, and then waited for morning. About 5 o’clock we started again, and at 6 A. M. our extreme right opened, the fight. The center (our front) and the left moved into position, and at 8 o’clock the Spanish artillery opened on us from the position we now hold. We deployed as skirmishers and advanced through woods and brush, a perfect thicket; our artillery was hard at work behind us, but we with our small arms could not do much, as the Spanish were perfectly intrenched for a mile or more along our front.
We kept pushing along, although their fire, both shrapnel and small arms, was murdering us; but on we came, through the tropical underbrush, and wading a stream up to our chests, firing when we could see the enemy.
We reached the first line along a hillcrest and drove them out; then the next line, and they then started back to the city. The fighting was fast and fearful and never slackened until dark. The second day (Saturday) was a continuous fight again till dark; but our loss was small, as we simply held our position, having driven them all in; at night, however, they made a furious attack and attempted to retake the place. We were not surprised, and drove them back, with small loss on our side.
To-day was like the second day up to 12:30 o’clock, when a truce was made. Up to now (5 o’clock P. M.) there has been no firing since then, but I don’t yet know what the result of the conference was. We offered the truce after the naval battle. I only give a brief outline, as the papers have told everything. I am unhurt and perfectly well.
Told from the trenches-council Bluffs boy describes the fighting before Santiago.
The following letter was written in the trenches before Santiago the morning after the attack:
Heights Before Santiago, July 8.
Dear Father: I have not been hurt and am fully convinced that Providential protection alone took me through it. Contrary to all principles of tactics, but unavoidably, the Twenty-fourth infantry was marched for three miles in a flanking fire from artillery, and when we were within about one and a half miles from the first Spanish position we were hemmed in a narrow road and subjected to a hail of fire from two blockhouses and intrenchiments on the hills on our right.
We waded about 400 yards down a stream up to our shoulders under protection of its banks and charged across a field of bull grass as high as our heads for about 600 yards, and then up the hill about 200 feet and drove the Spaniards out of their fort. The one we took is called San Juan. We lost terribly. Lieutenants Gurney and Augustine are dead. Colonel Liscum, Captains Ducat, Brett and Burton and Lieutenants Lyon and Laws are wounded. We lost about 100 men, but the fight is virtually won.
During the engagement I threw away my sword. I saw the colonel fall and I gave him my canteen and he soon revived. We occupied the hill by the blockhouse. We are within about 400 yards of the city and they have put up a flag of truce. They want until 10 A. M. July 9 to hear from Havana. We have them sewed up tight. I have a piece of an eight-inch shell which tried to get me, but struck the parapet of my trench. Will try to send it home.
No one except those thoroughly acquainted with this country will ever know how dreadfully desperate the fight and charge were. It is a mistake that the Spaniards won’t fight. The Spaniards have their barracks and other buildings covered with the Red Cross and abuse all the established principles of ’warfare. They put their men in trees hidden with leaves and bark and they pick off officers, surgeons and men of the hospital corps.
Finally it became necessary to systematically hunt these down, and this has been done with considerable success. The night of the 4th Sampson began countermining, and the dynamite made such a racket that the Spanish officers ran out under a flag of truce about 11:30 P. M. and wanted to know what we meant by firing under a flag of truce. It did not take us long to tell them that our flag of truce did not include the navy. Now, about 9 am, I hear the guns of the navy and Morro castle exchanging compliments.
Of all the precautions advised before we started for Cuba I could follow but few. I wear my woolen bandages, but in wading the stream I was unable to put on dry clothes again. In fact, for seventy-two hours we were under fire without sleep and thirty-six hours without water or food of any kind.
Bacon and hard bread are fine. I sleep on the side of San Juan hill in a ditch, so I won’t roll out. I have a raincoat, blanket and shelter half.
This is the most beautiful country I have ever seen, and if we should have peace I know of no place I would rather live in. I have seen enough of the horrors of the war, but am proud of the gallant boys of the Twenty fourth. The fighting is practically over, so have no fear. Your son,
Will.
Colonel wood writes of his
battle—rough riders’
leader describes
the American attack at la
Quasina.
Camp First United States Volunteer Cavalry, Six Miles
Out of
Santiago, June 27, 1898.
Dear General: Thinking that a line about our fight and general condition would interest you, I take this opportunity to drop you a line. We are all getting along very comfortably thus far and find the climate much better than we expected; also the country, which, aside from being awfully rough and full of undergrowth, is rather picturesque and attractive.
We commenced our advance from our first landing place on the 23d, and that night General Young and I, as second in command of the Second Cavalry brigade, had a long war talk about taking the very strong Spanish position about five miles up the road to Santiago. He decided that he would make a feint on their front and hold on hard, while I was to make a detour by trail under a couple of Cuban guides and take them in flank and try to get them out of their strong position, which was in the wildest and roughest part of the trail toward the town. Our little plan worked. I located the Spanish outpost and deployed silently and when in position fired on them. Shortly after I opened I could hear Young on the right, down in the valley.
Fought two hours at close range.
The fight lasted over two hours and was very hot and at rather close range. The Spanish used the volley a great deal, while my men fired as individuals. We soon found that instead of 1,500 men we had struck a very heavy outpost of several thousand. However, to cut a long story short, we drove them steadily but slowly, and finally threw them into flight. Their losses must have been heavy, for all reports coming out of Santiago show a great many dead and wounded and that they, the Spanish, had 4,000 men and two machine guns (these we saw) and were under two general officers, and that the Spanish dead and wounded were being brought in for six hours; also that the garrison was expecting an assault that night; that the defeated troops reported they had fought the entire American army for four hours, but, compelled by greatly superior numbers, had retreated and that the army was coming.
My men conducted themselves splendidly and behaved like veterans, going up against the heavy Spanish lines as though they had the greatest contempt for them. Yours sincerely, Leonard wood.
To General B. A. Alger, Secretary of War.
Wirt W. Young of Chicago tells
of the destruction of Cervera’s
fleet July 3.
We have seen some hot times since the Harvard left Newport News with the Ninth Massachusetts and the Thirty-fourth Michigan on board. We landed them about six miles from Santiago at a little town called Siboney, or Altares, and laid there four days unloading stores. On the morning of the 3d I was lucky enough to row in the boat that the officers took to the shore. The ship was lying about one and a half miles from shore, and you can bet it is no Sunday-school picnic affair to pull a twenty-foot oar back and forth all day. When we landed the officers one of them said: “Wait for me.” We waited three hours. Then we saw the New York come on the line. We made for the boat, so as to reach it before the lieutenant. Just as he got in the Harvard flew the recall signal. When we reached her we heard that the New York had said that the Spanish ships had left the harbor and that the Harvard was to join the Iowa. We cleared for action and went up past Morro castle.
Away up on the coast we could see great columns of smoke. The Spaniards had come out and started to run, but the Indiana, Iowa, Massachusetts, Gloucester and the rest of the fleet were waiting, and in an hour the two Spanish torpedo-boats were blown out of the water. The Infanta Maria Theresa and Oquendo were beached and on fire close together, and the Vizcaya the same about a mile farther down. It was about 3 o’clock when the Iowa signaled the Harvard to take the Spanish sailors from the burning ships and from the shore. Before the first boat was lowered it had grown quite dark and the sea was running high.
The sight of A lifetime.
The sight of those magnificent battleships burning and the magazines exploding one by one as the flames reached them, made an impression upon me I will never forget. They called for volunteers to man the boats, as it was dangerous work. We did not know whether the Spanish sailors on shore would show fight or not. There is a cadet on board named Hannigan, from Chicago, who will always show his boat’s crew any fun there is going on. Arling Hanson and I determined to get in his boat, and we did.
We made for the Vizcaya, and as we neared her we could see men hanging to ropes down the sides. The ship was on fire from stem to stern, and any moment the magazines were likely to explode. If they had while we were pulling the Spaniards off, there would have been several Chicago naval recruits missing. The surf was running high and made the work dangerous and difficult, but we made connections and brought off over 600 men. They were all naked and almost dead.
The only light we had was from the burning ships, and the scene was one of great confusion. Officers shouted orders, Spaniards running up and down the beach and the magazines exploding one by one as the fire reached them. And to crown all a party of Cubans came down from the hills and announced their intention of “making angels” of all the helpless Spaniards. Whereupon the American naval officers said if they tried anything like that “there would be some strange Cuban faces in hades.” The Cubans thought better of it and stood and watched us.
I have got the dagger and sheath of the Spanish officer Francisco Silvia. He was pretty near gone, and when he had almost reached the boat he let go of the line. I swam out, held to the line, and just as he swept by me, caught him by the belt and got him up to the boat. He got me around the neck in the struggle, and once I was so full of salt water I thought I should never see Chicago again. He wanted to give me anything he had. He had only his belt and cap, so I chose his dagger.
Mutiny among the prisoners.
I suppose you have by this time got the report of the mutiny on the Harvard and the killing of eight and wounding of twenty-five of the Spaniards. Jones from Auburn Park, Hanson and I were on guard with some marines and soldiers. We heard the signal, a long-drawn hiss, and in an instant the “push” was up and at us. They had about ten feet to come, however, and not one of them ever reached us. There was a hot time for a few minutes. It was shoot as fast as you could throw up your gun. We did not stop to pick our men, but fired at the crowd; and when a Winchester or a Springfield bullet hits a man at ten or twelve feet he is going to stop and go the other way.
There has been a burial at sea for the last five days. When the bugle sounds “taps” over the place where the bodies are thrown into the sea it seems to make your blood come to your face with a rush. There is something solemn in it, and a man who dies and is buried with his country’s flag around him and the bugle and guns to do him honor is lucky.
Town of Santiago described by one of our boys.
Santiago, August 6.
A peculiarity of the climate here is that it is the hottest in the morning. The sun rises hot; in fact, the heat is most severe from sunrise to 10 am, when the sea breezes set in and make the situation more endurable. If it remained as hot all day as it is at 9 A. M. our condition would be unbearable indeed. The ocean helps us out, however, and by noon we have a very refreshing and cooling air stirring.
The sickness in the company is on the decrease. On some days only about half the men were fit for duty, but they are all doing nicely now. The same proportion obtained throughout the whole regiment. Not all of the disabled were sick, but some were recovering, while others were sick and thus we had from 25 to 40 per cent. of the men under the weather, and it took those who were well to care for the sick.
I was at Santiago the other day with Colonel Dick. We called on General Shafter and had a very nice chat with him. He showed us a message from the Secretary of War directing that the Eighth Ohio be closely isolated for a period of ten days and if at the end of that time no yellow fever appears in our ranks we are to be put on transports and sent away from here.
Santiago is a queer place. We approached the city along the road that passes by our camp. The street was narrow—not more than twenty-five or thirty feet wide—not wider than the paved portion of the street in front of our house. Many are much narrower—mere alleys in fact—but people living all along them. Across the streets trenches had been dug by the Spanish troops and barbed wire netting in front of the trenches. There were many trenches, showing what preparation they had made for a desperate resistance to our advance. The houses are nearly all one-story and have brick or stone floors. Few have wood floors and all seem dirty. No glass is used in the windows, and very little window glass is seen in the city. The window openings are grated on the outside and have a sort of portiere or wooden shutters on the inside. The streets are not straight, but wind and turn until one loses the points of the compass. The houses are built out even with the streets, no front yards and no spaces between the houses. Houses are mostly covered on the outside walls with plaster and roofs of red tile. The city is very old and the houses show it. We went into the cathedral, an old building. They rang the bells and rang them again, but so far as we could see no one came to worship. The janitors and priests lounged about—the latter saluted us. We strolled all about the interior of the structure with our spurs on our boots and wearing cartridge belts and revolvers. The American soldier goes about where he pleases in the city. Of course we recognized the character of the building and removed our hats when we went in. The interior was adorned like most Catholic churches, with pictures and altars and other regalia of the Catholic service. Quite a nice picture of the Virgin appears in the ceiling, and a number of good pictures are found about the walls. We also went into the “palace,” now used as General Shafter’s headquarters. It is one of the best buildings in the city, but doesn’t compare with the more ordinary public buildings in our country. There are no street cars—few, if any electric lights, and the surface of many streets is so rough and uneven that you can have no conception of them. The few that are better than others are paved with cobblestones, but these are few. Most streets are full of loose stones and not paved, and little, if any, pretense at grading. The dirt lies in the streets and side streets are filthy. In fact, it looked to me like the greater the stink the better the people like it. My sense of smell was too acute to relish it. Our troops have gathered
The following letter has been received from Claude Neis of Company G, First District of Columbia volunteers:
Santiago de Cuba, Aug. 9, 1898.
You said that Mr. Balcke’s son was killed in Santiago. If so, I must say that I saw his ghost on the wayside in a cluster of woods. I remember seeing the name. His first name was Charley, if I am not mistaken. I feel very sorry to have heard of his death, but I know that he perished for a noble cause and fought gallantly as any soldier could.
Lon White is all right, and this trip is doing him a great deal of good, only he has had an attack of malarial fever lately. It seems to affect all the boys, and if they do not take us out of this place, since peace is virtually declared, we all will have a harder fight to contend with the yellow fever than we had with the Spaniards. It has already broken out among several regiments and we have lost two men already.
Last Friday the First battalion was ordered to guard the Spanish prisoners, 7,000 in number, and my four days’ expedition with them has made me conceive very readily that they are superior to what I expected. I made friends with Captain Garcia, a very fine-looking man and a very gentle sort of a fellow. We were forbidden to talk, receive or give anything from or to them, but a soldier in these circumstances disobeys a minor order like that, I was invited to take dinner with the captain and his two lieutenants, Menez and Hernandez, two very nice sort of Spaniards. Though prisoners, they are more cordial than our own officers. The bill of fare and manner of eating was as follows:
1. Bean soup with rice, well seasoned with pepper a la Mexicano. 2. Fish, with the best sauce ever tasted since I left home. 3. Fried eggs and potatoes. (Eggs in the market here are 10 cents apiece.) After each intermission a glass of claret wine. 4. Rice and roast meat a la Francaise. 5. Rice pudding. 6. Coffee (Francaise), bread and butter. 7. Fruit. Glass of good Spanish rum a la rhum.
I have quite a few souvenirs from them and some Spanish buttons for sister.
We are situated on top of a mountain while the Spaniards are down in the valley. They bring quite a number of sick people out every morning. I have even become so acquainted with the men of the— battalion, Captain Garcia commanding, that they call me Senor Neis. I have named one, who is the real picture of an Irishman of the Mick type, “Mickey,” and his comrades call him such. They carry my water for me and seem to be willing to do anything I ask them. The majority of them are very illiterate, very few intelligent privates, comparatively speaking. I have a young fellow about my age to teach English, and I am attempting Spanish. Both of us are getting along fairly well. I can make myself understood.
While I was dining with Captain Garcia his orderly was fanning the flies away from me. The country is beautiful, nothing but mountains and valleys. With American people here it will be worthy to have the island called the Gem of the Antilles. I can thank God that I have had the best of health and only two of us in the company have not had the fever. I seem to have gained in weight and full flushed in the face.
This letter was written just before the battle of Santiago:
Ten Miles North of Baiquiri, June 29, 1898.
Dear Jim: I am writing this on picket. My troop was sent to the front and we are bivouacked in the woods. Oranges, lemons and cocoanuts are plentiful, and every trooper has his canteen full of lemonade all the time. We were seventeen days on the transport, but did not suffer. Every one is in good spirits and anxious to get at the dons. Dick.
The following breezy letter was written by a Washington lad in the trenches around Santiago:
Siboney, July 7.
My Dear General: Have really been too busy to write. Have been in a real nice, lively battle, and wasn’t a bit scared and didn’t run. The poor old Twenty-fourth. Markley commands the regiment now, and temporarily the brigade. He is a daisy. He really ought to get something. So ought every one. It was glorious. Only so many were killed and wounded. Poor old Shafter. Everybody is roasting him because he was lying on his back in the rear having his head rubbed, which isn’t my idea of what a commander should do.
About myself: I was upset by a shell back of Grimes’ battery July 1, which killed some people. Very miraculous. Only I didn’t get a scratch to show for it, and, although I most conscientiously wished for a bullethole, didn’t get one the rest of the fight. I overdid the business a little, rode to the rear twice that day and back, and then walked after they shot my mule. Well, anyway, July 2 I was with Blank when he was forced back from San Juan hill. He told me it was the hottest fire any artillery has had to stand in modern times. Then he pulled out. Well, the fever came on the 3d, and I have been sort of half crazy and delirious the last four days. It isn’t yellow fever, though, although it probably will be. I’ll cable if it gets serious. Really, I have distinguished myself, and, if I pull out, may lead a fairly decent life and be rather a credit. If anything does happen to me I’ll feel like such an ass for not being bowled over like a gentleman in the battle last week. Love to all. Charlie.
P. S.—This is a little disconnected on account of forty grains of quinine to-day.
Member of the Houston post rifles paints A roseate picture.
Santiago de Cuba, August 6, 1898.
Dear Mother: I am now in Cuba. I like Santiago; it is much cooler here than at Camp Caffery.
The Cubans all talk Spanish and I am learning to talk Spanish fast. We are now camped at the city park on the harbor. I saw the smokestack of the Merrimac when we came through the neck of the harbor. The Merrimac was sunk right near Morro castle. Morro castle is almost at the top of a mountain and is made of white stone. Santiago is surrounded by water and mountains. There is not a case of yellow fever here at all. The only kind of sickness here is malarial fever and wounded soldiers. The fever was caused by laying in trenches for seventeen days during battle on light rations.
I like Cuba better than Texas. I can sit right here and see where all the fighting was done. The Rough Riders are here. General Shafter is here also. There are enough rations in the city to feed the volunteer soldiers for one year, and our money is worth twice as much as Spanish money. We do not want for anything. We get more to eat here than at Camp Caffery and have less sickness, and the weather is not as hot here as it was there. We have pretty brown duck and also blue flannel suits. It is fun to see us buy from the Cubans and get the right change back. The sailors that were captured off of Cervera’s fleet are here. They can go anywhere they want to in the city, and the rest of the Spanish prisoners are here also, and we have charge of them. There are about fifty or seventy-five men in the guardhouse at present for drinking rum and eating fruit. We can buy anything we want except liquors and fruit. I have seen a number of Spanish war vessels that are half sunk, and there are lots more out of sight. On our trip to Cuba we crossed the Caribbean sea. Tell Ernest that there is a fellow here by the name of Parsons that he knows. This man Parsons was on guard duty at the warehouse and a fellow came prowling around and Parsons told him to leave, but he would not and he charged bayonets on him and run him out. The next day he found out that this man was his brother that he had not seen for five years.
The poor class of people are almost starved. They come around and beg scraps to eat. Cuba has the richest land I have ever seen; pretty shade trees and everything that it takes to make a country look fine. The city of Santiago is laid off like an old Mexican town. It does not rain here as often as at Camp Caffery and not so hard. There are lots of cocoanut groves around here and no monkeys. There were only five or six houses that were hit by the bombshells during the war. I have a Cuban sweetheart already. It is nothing to see the poor class half naked. Cuban children sleep wherever night overtakes them and eat where they can find scraps. The Red Cross ladies that stay in the hospitals are so good and kind to us. We only have to drill one hour a day here. A few of the boys on the trip got seasick. Colonel Hood has water boiled every night and next morning we put ice in it to drink. We have fresh meat packed in ice shipped by the Armour
Page Ligon.
By lieutenant colonel Nicholas
Senn, U. S. V., Chief of operating
staff with the army in the
field at Santiago.
Headquarters Fifth Army Corps, Before Santiago, July 12.
As the hospital ship Relief came in sight of the seat of war every one of its passengers watched with interest and anxiety the indications of the present status of the conflict. When we sailed from Fortress Monroe Sunday, July 3, fighting was in progress, and, not having received information of any kind since that time, we were impatient for news.
On reaching Guantanamo we came in sight of a number of warships floating lazily on the placid ocean like silent sentinels some six to eight miles from the shore. The little bay was crowded with empty transports, all of which indicated that we were not as yet in possession of Santiago. The pilot of a patrol boat finally, in a voice like that of a foghorn, communicated to us the news that the greater part of the Spanish fleet had been destroyed and that the Spanish loss in dead, wounded and prisoners was great. Among the most important prizes of the naval battle was the heroic admiral of the Spanish fleet, who was then a prisoner on board of one of the men-of-war. The land forces were near the city making preparations for the first attack. A partial if not a complete victory had been won, and we had the consolation of knowing that we had not come in vain.
Red cross flag flying.
Our captain was directed to bring his ship to anchor near Siboney. When we came in sight of this little mining town we saw on shore rows of tents over which floated the Red Cross flag, showing us that we had reached the place for which we had been intended.
The little engine of a narrow-gauge mining railroad was puffing and screeching up and down along the coast, conveying supplies from the landing to the camp. On the side of a hill were the shelter tents of a company of infantry on detail for guard duty. On the crest of a number of high hills which fringe the coast could be seen blockhouses recently vacated by the Spaniards. A grove of palm trees in a near valley reminded us that we had reached the tropical climate.
The steamer Olivette, floating the Red Cross flag, anchored near the shore. Major Appel, surgeon in charge of this hospital ship, was the first person to board our vessel, and gave us the first reliable account of the recent battle. His appearance was enough to give us an insight into his experiences of the last few days. He was worn out by hard work and his anxiety for the many wounded under his charge.
The camp is on the shore in a limited plateau at the base of the mountain rising behind the little mining village. The condition of the wounded men furnished satisfactory proof that good work had been done here, as well as at the front. On my arrival many of the wounded had already been placed on board a transport ship, but more than 400 remained in the general hospital.
On the whole the treatment to which the wounded were subjected was characterized by conservatism. Only a very small number of primary amputations were performed. Bullets that were found lodged in the body were allowed to remain unmolested unless they could be removed readily and without additional risk. A number of cases of penetrating wounds of the abdomen and chest were doing well without operative interference. Penetrating gunshot wounds of the skull were treated by enlarging the wound of entrance, removal of detached fragments of bone and drainage. Several cases in which a bullet passed through the skull, injuring only the surface of the brain, were doing well. With a few exceptions wounds of the large joints were on a fine way to recovery under the most conservative treatment.
Bullet wounds rapidly heal.
A study of the immense material collected at the station convinced the surgeons that the explosive effect of the small-caliber bullet has been greatly overestimated. The subsequent employment of the X ray in many of these cases will undoubtedly confirm the results of these observations. The battle at Santiago resulted in 157 killed and over 1,300 wounded. Nearly all wounds of the soft parts heal rapidly—suppuration in these cases was the exception, primary healing the rule.
The day after my arrival I went to the front, about ten miles from Siboney. A colored orderly was my only companion. He rode at a respectful distance to the rear. The whole distance the road was crowded with mule teams, soldiers and refugees. The latter made a seething mass of humanity from start to finish. At a low estimate I must have passed on that day 2,000 souls, including men, women and children and naked infants.
The day was hot and the suffering of the fleeing inhabitants of Santiago, the besieged city, and adjacent villages, can be better imagined than described. Indian fashion, the women walked, while some of the men enjoyed the pleasure of a mule or donkey ride. Most of them were barefoot and dressed in rags; children and infants naked; dudes with high collars, white neckties and straw hats were few and far between. An occasional old umbrella and a well-worn recently washed white dress marked the ladies of distinction. Their earthly possessions usually consisted of a small bundle carried on the head of the women or a wornout basket loaded with mangoes or cocoanuts. The color of the skin of the passing crowd presented many tints from white to jet black. The women were noted for their ugliness, the men for their eagerness to get beyond the reach of guns.
View on Cuban soldiers.
Little squads of Cuban soldiers were encountered from time to time, apparently anxious to get only as far as the rear of our advancing army. These men display an appearance of courage just now that is marvelous. Before the bluecoats came here they infested the inaccessible jungles at a safe distance from the Spanish guns, making an occasional midnight raid to keep the Spaniards on the lookout. Now they can be seen on the roads in small groups relating to each, other how they cut down the Spanish marines with their national weapon on reaching the shore after their vessels were demolished by our navy.
The ragged refugees, fleeing in all directions and mingling freely with our troops, as they do, carry with them the filth of many generations and a rich supply of yellow fever germs which will ultimately kill more of our men than will the Spanish soldiers.
On reaching General Shafter’s headquarters I reported to Lieutenant Colonel Pope, chief surgeon of the Fifth army corps, for duty. At head quarters is the principal field hospital, in charge of Major Wood, a graduate of Rush Medical College, ably assisted by Major Johnson and a corps of acting assisting surgeons. At the time of my arrival sixty-eight wounded officers and men were under treatment. Lieutenant Pope has worked night and day since the troops landed here. He has done all in his, power to make his limited supplies meet the enormous demands.
Performs an amputation.
At this hospital Major Wood kindly invited me to perform an amputation of the thigh for gangrene caused by a gunshot injury which had fractured the lower portion of the femur, and cut the popliteal artery. Here I found many interesting cases on the way to recovery in which the nature of the injury would have been ample excuse for rendering a very grave prognosis, among them a number of cases of penetrating wounds of the chest and abdomen.
In the afternoon I was accompanied to Canea by Acting Assistant Surgeon Goodfellow. The trip was made for the purpose of taking charge of sixteen wounded Spaniards we were to transfer to the Spanish army. On the way to Canea we found many recent graves and numerous dead horses, covered only with a few inches of dirt. The stench from this source was almost unbearable.
The little village of Canea is located on the summit of a hill, with an old, dilapidated church as its center. The public square and the few streets are thronged with refugees—from 8,000 to 10,000 in number. Crowds of refugees were also seen in the woods around the village gathering mangoes and cocoanuts, about the only food supply at the time. In the only room of the church we found a representative of the Red Cross Association dealing out hardtack and flour to the hungry multitude.
The wounded Spaniards were lying in a row on the floor of the church—one of them in a dying condition. All that could be transported were conveyed in four ambulances under a small detachment of troops to our fighting line. Here a flag of truce was secured, which was carried by an orderly. The detachment was left behind and we passed our line.
In Spanish lines.
As soon as the Spanish intrenchment came in sight the signal was given and was promptly answered by the enemy. Two officers with a flag of truce advanced toward us, and we were halted at a little bridge very near Santiago and below the first intrenchjnent. We were received very courteously by the officers and asked to a seat upon the grass in the shade of a clump of trees. Rum, beer and cigarettes were furnished for the entertainment of the callers. The object of our visit was explained, whereupon a hospital corps of about thirty men with sixteen litters in charge of a captain of the line and a medical officer made their appearance. The wounded were unloaded from the ambulances and conveyed in litters to within the Spanish line.
The visit was such a cordial and pleasant one that we found it very difficult to part from our newly made friends. After bidding the officers a hearty adieu and mounting my horse I was urged to dismount and say another farewell—a request which was responded to with pleasure. The two little parties then separated and made their way in a slow and dignified manner in the direction of the respective breastworks.
Tells of bombardment.
The first armistice expired at noon July 11. In the afternoon a heavy cannonading commenced and was kept up until late in the evening. Next morning it was resumed, however, with less vigor. During this bombardment the Spaniards renewed their recently gained reputation as effective marksmen. One of our best cannon was hit and literally lifted into the air. An officer was killed and a— number of men injured.
During the afternoon, while cannonading was still going on, I went to the front, but on reaching our line the bombardment was discontinued, and under a flag of truce the commanding generals met and held a conference. The result of this interview remains a secret at this hour.
Major-General Miles and staff reached Siboney yesterday on the steamer Yale, and to-day he proceeded to headquarters.
The appearance of yellow fever at different places occupied by our army has made our troops more anxious than ever to complete their task. The frequent drenching rains and inadequate equipments have also done much to render the men restless and anxious to fight.
W. B. Collier of the Second United States cavalry, in a letter dated August 3, describes his part in the fight on San Juan hill and the scene when the American flag was flung to the breeze in captured Santiago. He says:
We have our 2 o’clock rains each day and then the sun comes out and just burns. This is a good climate for snakes, lizards, etc. Many of the boys have died, but, thank God, I am still in the land of the living. Words are inadequate to express the feeling of pain and sickness when one has the fever. For about a week every bone in my body ached and I did not care much whether I lived or not. The doctor shoved quinine into me by the spoonful until my head felt as if all the bells in Chicago were ringing in it. I could hear them, even when delirious. The news that we are to go back to the United States in a few weeks has saved many a boy’s life.
Fear yellow fever.
I was scared at first when I was ordered to the yellow fever hospital I thought my time had come, but they examined me and pronounced my case some other than yellow fever. The boys fear yellow jack like a rattlesnake. When I return I will know how to appreciate my country. I am very weak and sick, but I think I will be well in a short time after I get home. With all I have suffered I am ready for more if Uncle Sam wants me.
As to the fight, our four troops of the Second United States cavalry were the only mounted troops in Cuba. We were the staff escort. I tell you, it is worth all the trials, and hardships, and sickness which I underwent, when I contemplated the scene of the surrender of Santiago. When Old Glory went up I cried and felt ashamed and looked around to see if any of my comrades had noticed me. I found they were all crying. Then we began to laugh and yell again so we would not be babies. I tell you, it was the proudest moment of my life.
Picks off Spaniards.
I was in the San Juan hill fight. We were used mostly as scouts. I know there are two or three poor Spaniards killed or in hospitals. I took it coolly and just shot at every Spaniard I could see, far or near. I aim sure I dropped three. It is quite ticklish at first to be under fire, but the novelty soon wears off.
Just before the battle at Manila.
A. J. Luther, second lieutenant of the First Colorado volunteers, writes as follows, dated Camp Dewey, July 27:
You may talk about your Cuban war and all other wars, but you may rest assured that the Philippine war is no snap, either. All the land around us for miles and miles is nothing but deep jungles and swampy ground. On our west lies Manila bay, 100 yards from our camp. On the north, for four miles, to Manila, in fact, a jungle and swamp, while on the east it is swamp and on the south more swamp. Our camp is on a long strip of land between a heavy jungle on all sides. It is a good camp, considering the location which is made necessary by the position of the Spaniards.
I am reliably informed that the natives of these islands are no farther advanced in civilization than they were 300 years ago. They live in old boats on the water, in palm trees, in bark huts, or wherever they can hold on long enough to live. Their life is one of degradation and four-fifths of them have noxious diseases. You can imagine what a nasty mess we have got into.
They wear for dress very thin cheesecloth and they keep that scanty raiment as clean as any class of people on earth, but their bodies do not seem to amount to that much trouble in their eyes. From the way they take care of themselves I imagine that they consider their clothes the only essential part of their exterior that ought to be kept clean.
We have not gone into Manila yet and I cannot say just when we will, but you will know through the papers when we do. I want you to send me all the papers you get hold of which contain anything relating to the Manila troops. We have a lot of correspondents with us and between them you can glean all the news of importance.
We have only been called out once since our arrival here and nothing happened then. I have been under the enemy’s fire three times, shot landing all around me. Major Moses, Captain Taylor, Captain Grove and Lieutenant Lister, with an interpreter, were detailed to make a special reconnaissance of the country and the position of the enemy. They went within 300 yards of the Spanish intrenchments and were sighted by the enemy’s patrol. Captain Taylor was standing on the top of a brick wall when they let fly at the party and one bullet hit about ten inches under his feet.
The other day I was put in charge of the company to repair roads along behind the insurgents’ line, and we were only 300 yards from the enemy’s line all the time, so you can see how near to the jaws of danger we work. Our camp is under the range of their big guns, but they have never thrown any shells into us yet.
While working on the road they kept up a fire at us, however, and one large cannonball plowed up the road not twenty-five feet away. It whistled through the air like a nail when thrown from the hand. At the same time you could hear Mauser balls whistling around us. This is a warm country. One especially feels that way when the bullets come zipping around as they did when we were on the road.
The insurgents and Spaniards keep up continual volley firing all day and night. Neither side knows as much about a gun as a baby. They fire into the air and expect the balls to light on the heads of the enemy. When the Spaniards run up against us, I think they will find a different game. We won’t play horse with them nor shoot up into the air, but will get right into direct aiming distance and make them dance.
Digging graves in Cuba—Walter Zimmer of first Illinois volunteers writes from Siboney.
Siboney, Cuba, Aug. 17.
Dear Sister and Brother: Received your kind and welcome letter last evening and was glad to hear from you. We are expecting to get back to the States any day, as they are shipping the army as fast as possible. I am now on a detail at the yellow fever hospital. This is tough work, digging graves and planting the dead. The men are dying at the rate of about ten a day. A lot of the boys in my company died of yellow jack. I am all right at present.
We had a lot of fun chasing Spaniards. Some of them got after a crowd of Cubans and killed them. We scoured the woods and located the Spaniards and fired a few volleys at them, killing and wounding a number of them.
Jimmy Edgar is dying. He has been out of his head for a week. I saw him last night and he did not know me. Out of the regiment there are about 400 in the hospital. We have a little graveyard on the hill they call the Chicago cemetery. It is only three weeks old and there are about 100 graves.
Santiago is a dirty place. All the sewers are on top of the ground. This is Siboney, the town we burned about five weeks ago to keep out the fever. I have a few souvenirs I hope to take back to the States with me—two Spanish gold pieces, one machete, a Krag gun, a set of prayer beads, and a piece of shell that struck me in the hip. I was laid up only two days. The shell struck a tree and bounded off, hitting me. The tree broke the force. If I ever get out of Cuba I do not want to see it again, even on the map. By the time you get this I expect to be on Long Island, New York. Hinton went back to the States a few days ago. Edgar was too weak to go. About 500 convalescents went home, and there are about 1,000 of the boys here too weak to go. It is pretty tough to see the boys dying here. Our detail has to dig graves. My back is nearly broke from digging and using the pick. If you do not dig fast the major orders your arrest and off to the guardhouse you go. Your brother.
James Purcell, Company G, Eleventh Infantry, writes the following interesting letter:
Camp Ponce, Between Town of Ponce and Shipping Port, August 6.
Dear Ones and All: I hope you received my letter from Samono Bay and that you are all well. I am fine, as well as ever I have been. We arrived here last Monday and landed on Tuesday. We were on the water eleven days and it was a grand trip and all enjoyed it greatly, but if would have been much better if we had good food. What we ate consisted of canned beef, hardtack, canned beans and tomatoes with coffee twice a day.
Well, now to tell you something about this place. It is without exception the prettiest place I ever saw. We have about five hundred Spanish prisoners here in this camp and leave to-night by train to cross the mountains and clear the road for the main body of troops, which will advance on San Juan. You will probably know the outcome long before this letter reaches you. We are camped on the roadside. The thoroughfare is macadamized from one end of the island to the other, and as fine a road as one ever saw. It would be a grand place to have a bicycle. Our camp is always crowded with hungry, starving Cuban men, women and children, some of them naked and the rest only partially clothed. They will do almost anything for our hardtack, for some of them never had any flour, and when we purchase we have to pay two cents for a small roll, but while we are in camp we make our own bread and they go crazy for some of it.
There is plenty of tobacco here and the way we get it is to give one hardtack for a cigar. The men and women are all cigarmakers, and, as our commissary is not yet open, we have to make native cigars. All the people here seem glad to have the Americans take the island.
Wine and rum costs two cents a drink and an American dollar is worth $1.80 in Spanish money. Our regiment and the Nineteenth are the only regiments of regular infantry on the island. All others are volunteers excepting one or two regiments of cavalry and artillery, so we are likely to get the brunt of all the battles. We had a little scrimmage yesterday, but it did not amount to much. Now I will try to tell you a little about the island before I run out of paper. Cocoanuts grow in abundance here, with all other kinds of tropical fruit. As yet we have not been near the banana or pineapple district. The roads are all shaded with trees, and if I could get at a desk for a short time I would write a better letter. This one is only to let you know I am alive and well and as soon as the affair is over I think I’ll buy a farm here,—etc.
Letters from Joe Bohon.
Ponce, Porto Rico, Aug. 4, 1898.
I suppose you know by this time where we are. I have written several times to the folks and different ones, but have received no mail for twenty days.
We landed at Guanica July 25 and were the first troops on the island. We had considerable music from our gunboat escorts there. You could see them going over the hills in droves. We stayed there three days, then Company H and one company from Massachusetts Regiment marched to Yauco. We looked for trouble there but were disappointed. We stayed there three days, then started to march for Ponce. It took us two days to come a distance of thirty-five miles. We were in heavy marching order with an extra 100 rounds of ammunition. Its weight was between 80 and 100 pounds.
This is a town of 35,000; they have banks, electric lights, telephones and an ice plant. There are some English-speaking people here. I was down town yesterday. The hotels and restaurants are all run by French people. It’s a wonderful sight how the natives respect us. They take off their hats and say Viva Americana (long live America). If one of them can get hold of a blue shirt or pants or a small flag they are the envy of every one of their people. Our company have four with us since we landed. They wash our dishes, carry water and make themselves useful.
There are all kinds of reptiles and varmints. Hamilton and I have killed three centipedes in our tent. The natives say their bite will kill, but our doctors say not; several of our boys have been bitten; none died so far. A soldier of the Third Wisconsin shot and killed one of the regulars. The wealthy class of people here dress like us; have fine carriages, but their horses are all small and pace. They raise hogs and their cattle are Jerseys. They do all their work with oxen and large two-wheeled carts. The oxen pull with their horns and you would wonder at the load they pull. The poorer class of people are nothing better than slaves. From ten to thirty will live in one small house. I have not seen a window glass or chimney on a house since being on the island. They build their fires in small stoves and cook their grub in kettles. They raise bananas, oranges, limes, the same as lemons, cocoanuts, pomegranates, mangoes, etc. They also raise melons, tomatoes, cucumbers and such vegetables. Think of getting those things fresh the year round.
They wear as few clothes as possible. You see children as old as four years without a stitch of clothes on. I mean the poor, and none of the older wear shoes; their endurance is wonderful, and they don’t perspire like us. They all smoke either cigars or cigarettes. We see children four years old smoking cigars. You can buy as good a cigar here for 1 cent in their money as we can buy at home for 5 cents. One dollar in our money is equal to two dollars in theirs. So we get our smoking pretty cheap. Fruits are sold accordingly. We are to turn our Springfield guns in this morning and get the Krag-Jorgenson; they are much lighter and their bullets are not near so heavy. Hope this will be of interest to you. Don’t forget to send the Times as we have not seen a paper since leaving Charleston. Regards to all.
In the course of an interesting letter written by James Burns of the Twenty-seventh battery, Indiana volunteers, to his mother, and dated August 15, at Gruayama, Puerto Rico, he said that the news of the cessation of hostilities was received by courier only a short time before the battery expected to get actively into battle. Most of the boys, he said, were anxious to return home. For himself, he expressed a desire to remain for the reason that the country there is very rich, the climate healthful and the possibilities to make money in the future, through American push and energy, the best in the world. Speaking of the daily routine of the battery boys he said:
Every man cooks his own meals and we get plenty of good food, such as bacon, potatoes, beans, onions, hard-tack, canned corn beef, canned roast beef, canned tomatoes and the like. The climate is the finest I ever experienced. While the temperature is very high, still the strong trade winds render it always agreeable, the hottest day being far more pleasant than at home. Water is pure and plentiful. The country is cut up every quarter mile or so by limpid mountain streams and the beach on this, the south side of the island, is as fine as any in the world. Palms abound in profusion and the most beautiful flowers and ferns cluster and grow delightfully everywhere. The cocoanut, mango, bread-fruit, banana, lemon, lime, sago, prickly pear, mangrove and bay trees grow luxuriantly about our camp.
The natives here are of small stature. They are black-haired and have bright, sparkling eyes. They are all of a mixture of either the French or Spanish with the negro. There is a large population of French and Portuguese, the pure Spanish being but little more than one-sixth of the entire population. The natives are a bright, intelligent class. There are few public schools, education being given to children at their homes by traveling teachers and governesses. There are but few Protestants or Protestant churches, the Catholic being the prevailing religion, and their churches being much more magnificent than any you have at home. The priests constitute
There are no bad fevers here, but small-pox sometimes is prevalent in certain localities, although they have not had the scourge for three years. Leprosy, elephantiasis and diseases arising from a bad condition of the blood prevail to some extent. Ruins of sugar mills and plantations abound on every side, once great money-producing establishments, but destroyed by Spanish avarice and the American tariff. Cattle-raising, fruit-growing, coffee, and rice culture furnish the principal money-making vocations in Porto Rico. There are no railroads that amount to anything. The wagon roads are all military roads and the freighting is carried on with pack mules and bull-carts. The latter are of the clumsiest character, the yoke resting on the horns of the animals instead of upon their necks, as in the old farm districts in the United States. They carry from two to three tons or more at a load. The horses and mules are small, but willing and patient animals. The natives are sharp traders and boys of from six to ten years of age can drive close bargains. One of our American dollars will purchase exactly twice as much as a Spanish dollar. The one particularly cheap product is the cigars. “Smokes” of a good quality sell for one cent each. Bananas and lemons are cheap, and of the latter fruit we partake plentifully. Cocoanuts sell for five cents each; milk, five cents; bread, twenty cents, and sugar, four cents. These prices are on a basis of the Spanish money.
This letter was written by one of the soldiers of the Sixteenth infantry, five captains of which led the particular charge in which this regiment participated:
July 24, 1898.
We are in bivouac near our trenches, within half a mile of Santiago. The fighting is all over and we are just waiting for something to happen. The latest newspaper we have seen was that of July 3, so you see I write like a person of the past generation.
We have had a hot time. The Spanish got drunk and put up a pretty good fight. At least I have heard they were all drunk in the battle of the 1st. I don’t know whether it is true or not, but I do know that they did not run as quickly as we wished them to do.
Firing begun.
We left camp on the 1st about daybreak, but we did not know we were going into battle. We got into the jungle, after marching for a while, and then heard firing, apparently all around us. Then our men began to fall, and we realized we were in it. We kept struggling through the dense underbrush, first to the right, then to the left, and then to the front, as fast as we could find openings. Everything was confusion. Orders could not be given or obeyed. Companies, battalions, regiments and brigades were all jumbled up.
We did not fire, for we could not see ten feet in any direction on account of the dense thickets in the jungle. Finally I found myself with my company and part of the regiment in a trail or road by a broad, open field, across which, about 700 yards on a steep bluff, were the Spaniards, strongly entrenched.
We opened fire and kept it up for a while, but the road rapidly filled up with our soldiers, and it became too crowded to do anything. There was a six-strand barbed-wire fence along the hedge between the road and the open. All at once we began to try to tear it down and get at the enemy. Captain Leven C. Alien, Captain W. C. McFarland, Captain Charles Noble, Captain George Palmer and Captain William Lassiter were close together with their companies (all of the Sixteenth infantry). I was in the front, just behind my captain. Officers and men dashed savagely at the fence, tore it down and leaped into the open field, the captains calling to their companies to “come on!” “Now we have a chance at them! Come on!”
A hail of bullets.
The companies, or so much of them as heard the call, sprang into the field, the men following the five brave captains, and away we went in a terrible and most desperate charge. The bullets hailed upon us, but when the old Sixteenth gets its “mad up” there is no use trying to stop it. We had about two hundred men with us, five captains in the front line. But soon others began to follow us, and the field was full of soldiers, all moving to the front, firing as they went. We saw the enemy jump and run just before we reached the foot of the steep slope leading up to the crest. Then one of our batteries began firing over our heads, and when we got near the top the shells began striking the ground between us and the crest, but we did not stop. On we went, climbing on our hands and knees, when suddenly there arose a great shout down on the plain behind us, “Come back! Come back!” The trumpets sounded “recall,” and our men, who had followed their captains so bravely, hesitated, stopped and began drifting back down the slope.
In vain our brave leaders swore at the loud-mouthed skulkers below. They had suddenly become fearful for our safety—they wrere afraid we would be hit by our own shells. We settled reluctantly back near the foot of the slope.
Allen leads his men on.
Captain Allen told his men to lie down and get their breath. Then he called our attention to Captain McFarland, who was with some men about thirty yards to our right and up on the slope. He was waving his hat and the shells were bursting around him.
Captain Allen called out to us: “Look at Captain McFarland and E company! Who of C company will go with me to the top of the hill in spite of danger?” We who were near him sprang to our feet and up we went.
MCFARLAND wounded.
But Captain McFarland had been wounded and his men were going down. Our little group became too small for a further attack. “Come back! Come back!” was shouted from below. Captain Allen stood alone for a minute and then we went back to the foot of the slope and waited until our battery stopped firing. Then we all went forward again, and the Sixteenth infantry colors passed up to the works and were planted there.
Color-bearer shot.
The color-bearer was shot, but Corporal Van Horn took the flag and carried it forward. Hundreds of officers and soldiers of other regiments came across the field while we were waiting, and they went up with us. And now they all claim that they were in that charge. We men and those five captains I have named know who were in it, and that our captains began it without orders, and we are entitled to all the credit.
The fight was led by captains, and no one else of higher rank had anything to do with it. Our colonel and major now say that they did not see the charge, and therefore can make no recommendations for distinguished gallantry. Well, it is proposed to fight it out and to have our claims heard.
A terrible fight.
The position we took was San Juan and was the key to the Spanish position. We have heard that there were 3,000 Spaniards in the works. I do not know what the loss was. I know that as I jumped over their trench I noticed that it was level full of dead and dying Spanish soldiers. It was a terrible sight. We had more fighting that afternoon, and that night we moved forward, and the Sixteenth entrenched 475 yards from the main works. We held this under heavy infantry fire and a terrible enfilade artillery fire all day of the 2d and 3d, while our right wing was swinging around to envelop the city.
Moved to the right.
On the 10th we were moved to the right wing and I think it was intended for us to make an assault on the city and wind up the business. We could have done it in fine shape, and all were anxious for a chance.
Our artillery got into place on the 11th at 4 pm, and we opened up along the whole line and soon silenced every gun and rifle they had.
The Spanish weakened.
Next morning at daylight we resumed our work and the Spanish weakened. They did not wait for the assault—the jig was up.
Nearly half the command is sick. We have only short rations of hard bread, bacon and coffee. We have no shelter except dog tents, and they are no good in such a climate as this. We have no vegetables, and of course we will all be sick. We are living miserably. There are thousands of supplies of all sorts in the harbor and on the landing, but they are not sent to us. The army is in a disabled condition for want of food and shelter. A box of hardtack and a piece of fat bacon thrown on the ground has been considered enough for the soldiers and officers who are in the trenches. Somebody will hear from this. Our government intends its soldiers to be well treated, but our supply department here in the field lack experience. Day before yesterday Clara Barton sent each company twenty-five pounds of corn meal and seventeen pounds of rice. It was a blessing, I tell you. We all got a spoonful of mush, and it was the best thing I ever tasted in my life.
If we could only get our rations, just the regular ration and our tents, we would be willing to take our chances with the climate. There will be enough go by the board, even if we get our supplies. The soldiers have fought bravely and won the victory.
Keep out of the war. Whole armies will be lost by disease and mismanagement. If we stay here under the present layout not one in four will ever see the United States again. We could not go into another campaign now, and unless matters improve very much we may as well be counted out for the summer.
How A war balloon came down after being pierced more than two hundred times.
Sergeant Thomas C. Boone of company K, Second regiment, wrote a thrilling letter. Mr. Boone’s letter in part says:
I have not told you of my accidents before while in Cuba, because I did not care to arouse the anxiety of my friends at home, and, although I have been unable to walk for some time, still I did not consider my condition as serious as the surgeons here claim it to be. I will tell you how I got hurt. It was a streak of continuous bad luck. On the 1st of July I went up in the balloon on the battlefield at 7 am, and the balloon was being moved all over the field when shot to pieces eighty yards from the Spanish line at 1 p.m. We thought our height, together with their bad marksmanship, afforded us protection. We were badly mistaken.
At least 200 bullets and four shrapnel shots went through the inflated bag, allowing the gas to escape, and we came down with a rush, striking the top of a tree alongside of a creek, throwing us out. In falling I was caught in the abdomen by a point of the anchor of the balloon, was suspended for a moment—it seemed a lifetime—then dropped into the creek, with the water up to my shoulders. I was badly bruised and shaken up, but, owing to the excitement of the time, I did not notice the pain.
Three of our detachment were killed and four wounded out of twenty-one men, which shows that we were in a pretty warm place. Well, I did not go to the hospital about my injury until July 14, and I was then so weak I could scarcely walk. The surgeons at the field hospital placed me in an old army wagon without springs at 9 o’clock one night to be taken to another hospital seven miles away, over the worst road in the world, without doubt. We had gone about half a mile when the wagon turned completely over, the wagon body catching my neck under its side and the corner of a box striking me in the abdomen.
I was unconscious for two hours. My neck is still very sore. When I regained consciousness I was placed in the wagon, but the bumping over ruts and rocks fairly drove me mad, and I said I could not stand it. I was told that I could walk, which I did. The wagon went on. I reached the hospital at 7 o’clock the next morning after a night of agony. At this hospital I was told that I was injured internally and that they could do nothing for me, that I would have to go to the United States for an operation, and here I am.
I hope to be in Springfield soon, but I am as weak as a child and cannot walk fifty yards. On top of my accidents I had a case of bilious fever and was shoved into the yellow fever hospital for several days. Bilious fever is a nasty thing, although not dangerous. There are thousands of cases of it in our Cuban army. It arises, I believe, from sleeping on the rain-soaked ground and in wet clothing night after night. There was not a day while I was in Cuba, with the exception of time spent in the hospital, that I was not soaked through from rain. Mosquitoes at night and flies during day make life unbearable here. They are a thousand times worse than any I ever saw. I am bitten from head to foot. They bite clear through the clothing.
When Captain Capron was killed at the battle of La Quasima Lieutenant Thomas became the commander of the troop. He was on the point of leading the fierce charge against the Spaniards when shot down by a Mauser bullet passing through his right leg below the knee. He gives the following interesting account of his personal experience and observations:
Our trip from the point of landing to Siboney, a distance of about eleven miles, took about three hours, and was over a trail that was very muddy in parts and crossed a number of streams. Lieutenant Colonel Roosevelt on this trip had his mount, but as we were not mounted he walked over the trail with us, leading his horse along. That was a simple act, but it indicated a feeling of comradeship he had for the members of the regiment and it touched a tender place in the men’s hearts.
No glimpse of Spaniards.
Lawton’s command had gone over this trail before us and the Spaniards had retreated so that we did not get a glimpse of the Spaniards on that march. A few men who had been ill on shipboard with measles, and had recovered only a short time before, were still weak and had to drop out of the line, but they reached Siboney a little while after the main body of our regiment got there. We got to Siboney on the evening of June 23, and with our shelter tents were very comfortable until the next morning, although it rained.
We were up at 4 o’clock, had breakfast at 6, and then, on the morning of June 24th started from Siboney across a high hill leading to La Quasina, where the regiment had its first fight. The battle lasted two hours and forty minutes, though to those who took part in it it appeared a very much shorter time. As we were advancing we were constantly expecting a fire from the Spaniards. We were not ambushed at all.
After we had gone about two miles on that trail we came across the body of a Cuban, and after that we kept an especially sharp lookout. Troop L formed the advance guard, and we had skirmishers out ahead of us and to both the right and left. The skirmishers ahead of us were about 250 yards from the main body of our men, and it was one of these advanced skirmishers who discovered the Spaniards. Thomas E. Isbell, a Cherokee from Vinita, I. T., was the one to make the discovery of the Spanish force. He fired the first shot in that battle and dropped a Spaniard. Isbell was wounded seven times and then managed to walk back to the field hospital, two and a half or three miles away, to get his wounds dressed.
Hard fighting ahead.
As soon as we learned that the Spanish were in advance of us we deployed the men six feet apart, advancing into the firing line. The Spaniards had some machine guns ahead of us, and our men received the full force of this fire. There was also firing from the right and the left. We were at this time upon the knoll of a hill, the Spaniards being about us at lower elevations. Before Isbell discovered the Spaniards a blockhouse had been seen, and we knew what was ahead of us.
It was probably half or three-quarters of an hour after the firing began that Captain Capron was killed, and perhaps twenty minutes after that I was struck as we were about to make a charge. Our men had been instructed to save their ammunition and not shoot unless they saw something to shoot at. Our men and the Tenth infantry afterwards buried about 100 Spaniards, and great numbers of their killed and wounded among them were carried to the rear, so that the fire on our side must have been pretty accurate.
When asked to relate some of the scenes taking place about him before he was struck, he replied:
One of the worst things I saw was a man shot while loading his gun. The Spanish Mauser bullet struck the magazine of his carbine, and going through the magazine the bullet was split, a part of it going through his scalp and a part through his neck. This was Private Whitney, and from his neck down he was a mass of blood. He was taken back of the firing line, and had recovered before we left Siboney and was again back in the ranks.
Captain Capron showed great pluck on the field of battle, and refused to leave even when he was mortally wounded. We were at that moment deploying and lying down. He was struck in the left shoulder, the ball coming out of his abdomen. He lived one hour and fifteen minutes after being shot. He was taken back to the field hospital by some of our men. About twenty minutes after that a Mauser ball struck me in the leg.
Sensation of being wounded.
When asked what the sensation was at the time of being wounded he replied:
My leg felt as if it had been struck by some heavy body. It felt paralyzed, and then I fell to the ground. There was no great pain experienced at the time, but fifteen minutes later the pain was very great.
A very touching incident happened during the fight. Captain McClintock was struck in the left leg, two Mauser bullets entering his leg just above the ankle. A private who had been sick for some days, seeing Captain McClintock lying on the field, crawled up to him, and lying beside the captain between the latter and the firing line, said: “Never mind, Captain, I am between you and the firing line. They can’t hurt you now.”
Ed Culver, a Cherokee Indian, showed himself particularly brave during the fight. He was alongside of Hamilton Fish when the latter was shot. When Fish was hit he said: “I am wounded.” Culver called back: “And I am killed.”
Culver was shot through the left lung, the ball coming out of the muscles of the back. He believed he was dying, but said if he was to die he would do the Spaniards as much damage as possible before leaving this world. He continued to fire, and sent forty-five bullets at the enemy before being taken away. At first, after receiving his wound, he was in a dazed condition, but after he recovered somewhat he shot straight.
Hamilton Fish died a few minutes after receiving his wound. I passed him just after he was shot, and directed some of the skirmishers where to move. He thought I was speaking to him, and, raising himself on his elbow, said: “I am wounded; I am wounded!” and died a few minutes after that.
We thought at first that the Spaniards were using explosive bullets, but we found they were merely brass-covered bullets.
A detailed description of the Santiago fight is told by the Gloucester crew, which was first to sight Cervera’s fleet as it steamed out of the harbor on the morning of Sunday, July 3. Ensign Sawyer’s letter reads:
Last evening we went into Guantanamo and saw the camp where our marines had so gallantly held their own. The Marblehead, with McCalla, was there, also the New York, the Iowa and that hero of the battle, the Oregon. The Gloucester also was there.
The greatest desire naturally possessed us to hear the details of the wonderful battle in which the Cape Verde fleet was destroyed. The Gloucester’s story, though we had but a few moments, was most interesting so far as we have heard. She was lying closest to the entrance, and had just finished Sunday morning inspection when the lookout hailed: “They’re coming out!”
Order of the exit.
Instantly all eyes were directed on the familiar harbor mouth, and they could hardly believe their eyes to see those magnificent ships standing out in broad daylight. The Maria Teresa, Vizcaya, Oquendo and Colon swung to the windward, and not a shot was fired at the Gloucester. Evidently she was too small to waste shell on, or else all eyes were on the larger vessels. Following those grand ships came the destroyers Pluton and Furor, which have been so much dreaded. The Gloucester immediately stood for them full speed and opened fire, the Pluton and Furor firing rapidly, but not striking. The Gloucester finally got in between them and rained shell upon them from her rapid-fire guns. The Iowa also let go her battery, and one of her large shells literally tore the stern out of the Furor. The Gloucester simply overwhelmed the Pluton with her shells, and a white flag was shown, whereupon Lieutenant Wood went over as quickly as possible to save the lives of the crew. She was a perfect hell on board. On fire below, one engine was still going, and there were only eight men not killed. He put these in the boat, tried to go below to save the vessel if possible, but could not on account of the fire. The boat shoved off to transfer the men to his vessel, when the Pluton blew up with a terrible explosion and sank. The boat was just a few feet clear when the magazine or boilers exploded.
Meantime the armored cruisers of the enemy stood to the west and were engaged by the Brooklyn, Oregon, Texas, Indiana and Iowa. The Maria Teresa and Oqueudo were run ashore, burning fiercely, five and one-half or six miles west of the harbor. The Vizcaya and Colon engaged in a running fight with the Oregon, Texas and Brooklyn, but the first was practically destroyed and run ashore thirty-four miles west, and the latter surrendered sixty miles west of Santiago.
It was a terrible battle, and our escape from terrible loss is nothing short of miraculous. The Spaniards were really fighting four ships against five, and the superiority of the Americans was due more to their skill than material. If the Americans had manned Cervera’s fleet the victory would have been ours just the same.
The Massachusetts and Newark were at Guantanamo coaling. The New York had gone five miles farther to the east than her usual station to allow the admiral to communicate with Shafter. The Oregon distinguished herself by overhauling and passing the Brooklyn and forced the Colon’s surrender. We have not yet seen any of the fellows on the vessels that took part in the pursuit.
Our heavy work now commences in landing troops. The First Illinois, under Colonel Turner, is among our convoy, and if the boys fight the way they cheer there will be no question of the result.
President McKinley appointed William K. Day, Secretary of State; George Gray, United States Senator from Delaware; Cushman K. Davis, United States Senator from Minnesota; William P. Frye, United States Senator from Maine, and Whitelaw Reid, formerly United States Minister to France, to represent the United States at the Paris conference. The Spanish commissioners being Senor Montero Rios, President; Leon Castillo, representing the political side; Senor Villarrutia, diplomacy; Senor Montero the judicial, and General Cerero the military.
The United States commissioners do not have to be confirmed by the Senate, as is usually the case with presidential appointments.
Peace reigns.
Nearly a quarter of a million soldiers again resume civil life—a nation of fighters when called upon to protect the Stars and Stripes, yet as kind and considerate as a brother when strife ceases. Many of our brave soldiers left our shores never to return—some were killed in battle; some were stricken down with fever; others who were at the front and saw Old Glory proudly afloat over the once helpless and downtrodden subjects of Spain started homeward but failed to reach their loved ones through disease contracted while performing their duties on the field of battle. Such is War. The whole nation will cherish the memory of the dead and ever extend gratitude to those who safely returned.