Young Peoples' History of the War with Spain Part 4

[Ill.u.s.tration: Dewey on the Bridge.]

The Spaniards fired the first gun from a powerful battery in front of the city, and the Concord sent two sh.e.l.ls in reply, as the American fleet swept grandly past. Before them were the Spanish s.h.i.+ps-of-war and the fortifications at Cavite; between, were shallow waters where they dared not go. Still they swept on, preserving their distances as though performing evolutions in time of peace, the Olympia in the van, drawing nearer and nearer to the s.h.i.+ps that flew the red and yellow flag of Spain. The sh.o.r.e batteries again roared defiance to the invaders, but Dewey stood quietly on the bridge of the Olympia, surrounded by the members of his staff. He wore the usual white uniform of the service, and a gray cap such as travelers and bicyclers wear. A huge jet of water now sprang from the peaceful sea, showing that the Spaniards had fired a submarine mine, but no harm was done.

Then Dewey gave the quiet order to Captain Gridley, who was in the conning tower:

"Gridley, you may fire when you are ready."

Then the guns of the Olympia spoke, and those of the other s.h.i.+ps followed her example. During the five times they pa.s.sed and repa.s.sed the Spanish s.h.i.+ps and forts, their courses resembled a gigantic figure 8.

Between the entrance to the bay and the city of Manila is an arm of land or promontory, pointing upwards and towards the city. It is on the right hand side of the bay and is called Cavite. The word means a fishhook, and the promontory looks something like one. Behind Cavite and in the bay of the same name, the Spanish s.h.i.+ps were stationed, and at the little town of Cavite was an a.r.s.enal and quite a respectable navy-yard.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Landing the Marines at Cavite.]

When Dewey withdrew his s.h.i.+ps to ascertain what damage the Spaniards had inflicted upon them, the Spaniards thought they had driven them off, and so they sent a dispatch from Manila to Spain saying that they had won a great victory over the Americans; but when Dewey made the second attack, after breakfast, there was not much more for him to do, for the Spaniards were well whipped. Dewey had met a foreign foe in its own waters, and added another victory to the glorious record of the navy of the United States.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Signaling.]

After the battle, one of the signal boys on the flags.h.i.+p wrote a very interesting letter to his friends at home:

"... We are all nearly wild with the effects of victory. The pride of Spain is here under our feet. No doubt before this letter reaches you, you will read full accounts of the battle--a battle that was hard fought and bloodless for the victorious. Not a man in our fleet was killed. Six men were slightly wounded on the Baltimore.

"Say, it was grand! We left Mirs Bay, in China, at two a.m., Wednesday, April 27th. Sat.u.r.day afternoon we sighted Subig Bay. The Boston and the Concord were sent ahead of the fleet as scouts. We expected to find the Spanish fleet and have our first engagement. We could not find them there, so the Commodore and Captains held a council of war and decided to run past the forts at night.

"It was nine-thirty that night when we sighted the entrance. We went quietly to quarters, loaded our guns, shook hands with each other and trusted to luck. I was on signal watch on the aft bridge and could see everything. Not a sound was heard. At twelve o'clock we were under the guns of the first fort. It was an island called Corregidor. I tell you I felt uneasy. The moon was well up, but not a light could be seen.

"There were two signal officers and three other boys with me. We were laughing and joking with one another to steady our nerves. When we were well under the guns a rocket was fired, and every man braced himself. Then you could hear the breech blocks closing and the officers telling the men to aim steady and to kill.

"Well, all the s.h.i.+ps pa.s.sed that fort, but there were twenty-six miles to go yet, and G.o.d and the Spaniards alone knew how many batteries, mines and torpedoes were ready to send us all to eternity.

"The Olympia pa.s.sed two more forts The Baltimore was next to us. She pa.s.sed all right, but when the Raleigh came under the guns of the second fort, there was a flash and I heard the shriek of the first sh.e.l.l. Then almost before the sh.e.l.l struck, there was a spout of flame from the Raleigh, and her sh.e.l.l killed forty men, as we learned yesterday. Two more sh.e.l.ls were fired at us, but we were well past them. Then the men were told to lie down.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Rapid-fire Gun.]

"Now, commenced the signal corps work. Soon our signal lights were flas.h.i.+ng the order to close up. At four o'clock I was told by the signal officer to lie down and catch a nap.

"At four, coffee was given to all the men and at fifteen minutes to five, the sh.o.r.e batteries had sh.e.l.ls dropping all around, but we did not fire until sixteen minutes past five. The Spanish fleet was in sight off the navy yard. Then the fight started in earnest. For a while I thought my time had come. After we made the signal 'commence firing,' we had nothing to do but watch the fight. The sh.e.l.ls flew over our heads so quick I paid no attention to them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Olympiads Military Mast.]

"After an hour and fifteen minutes, the Spanish admiral had two s.h.i.+ps sunk under turn. We withdrew for a short time, not knowing we had them whipped. As we were leaving, three s.h.i.+ps were burning. At nine-twenty-five, we started again. In a short time the a.r.s.enal went up and the Government buildings were in flames.

"The battle lasted altogether three hours and some minutes. At eleven-fifteen the white flag was shown, and you might hear us cheer.

The s.h.i.+p was. .h.i.t about six times. The Spaniards lost terribly. The rebels attacked the enemy. It is something wonderful when you consider the advantage they had over us. They had eleven s.h.i.+ps to our six.

Their s.h.i.+ps could run behind a neck of land near the navy yard. The sh.o.r.e batteries were firing on us from three points. But our marksmans.h.i.+p was too much for them; our fire was so rapid they could not stand it. They lost about two thousand men, so the rumor says. We sank four s.h.i.+ps and burned seven. It was a grand, beautiful sight to see those s.h.i.+ps burn.

"I was ash.o.r.e yesterday, and we destroyed all the guns. I managed to get a few souvenirs. Two torpedo boats attempted to blow us up, but one was sunk and one was beached. I saw her. She was full of holes and blood was all over her bow ...

"I hope the s.h.i.+ps at home have as good luck as us. I wrote this on captured paper with a Spanish officer's pen."

Like many other vessels in the navy, the Olympia has a complete printing outfit on board, and issues, at intervals, a very creditable sheet called the "Bounding Billow." This is its account of a Spanish shot:

"One shot struck the Baltimore in the starboard waist, just abaft one of the six-inch guns. It pa.s.sed through the hammock nettings, exploded a couple of three-pounder sh.e.l.ls, wounding six men, then across the deck, striking the cylinder of a gun, making it temporarily useless, then running around the s.h.i.+eld it spent itself between two ventilators, just forward of the engine-room hatch. The sh.e.l.l is in possession of the captain."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Strange course of a Spanish Sh.e.l.l.]

When the news of the glorious victory in Manila Bay reached the United States, the people went wild with joy. Commodore Dewey was thanked by Congress, and afterwards was made a rear-admiral. In December, Congress revived the grade and rank of admiral and conferred it upon Rear-Admiral Dewey, and he and all of his men were presented with medals of honor made expressly for the purpose. The raising of Admiral Dewey's new flag on the Olympia was an interesting ceremony. As the blue bunting with its four white stars fluttered to the peak of the flags.h.i.+p, the crews of all the vessels in the fleet were at quarters; the officers in full dress for the occasion. The marines paraded; the drums gave four "ruffles" as the Admiral stepped upon the deck; the Olympiads band struck up "Hail to the Chief," and an admiral's salute of seventeen guns echoed across Manila Bay from every American s.h.i.+p; followed by salutes of the same number of guns from each foreign war vessel in the harbor.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Dewey Medal of Honor.]

CHAPTER V.

THE MERRIMAC.

While Admiral Sampson had been fixing the blockade he had also been forming plans to close the channel, and so keep any large s.h.i.+p from stealing out of the bay. For, although our men watched closely, there was always a chance that in a fog or storm the Spanish s.h.i.+ps might slip out without being seen. Admiral Sampson knew that the Spaniards could remove anything that might be sunk to close the channel, but the work would take time, and meanwhile our Army might arrive on the land back of Santiago, and then our Army and Navy could help each other.

Time was what was needed in order to have all things ready for forcing the Spaniards out of Santiago and taking possession of the city.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Lieut. Richmond P. Hobson.]

So, plans were made for sinking a coal steamer across the narrowest part of the channel, and thus blocking the way. Now you shall hear of one of the bravest deeds ever done in war.

The work of closing the channel was put into the hands of Lieutenant Hobson. The collier Merrimac was chosen as the vessel to be sunk. You have no idea how much had to be done before the Merrimac was ready.

There were hours and hours of work. The crew had to take off all the things that were not to be sunk, the machinery had to be fixed in certain ways, the heavy anchors had to be placed in the right parts, and the torpedoes, which Lieutenant Hobson made for blowing holes in the vessel at the right moment, had to be fitted into their places.

More than two thousand tons of coal had to be shoveled away from certain places in the hold to make room for the torpedoes and to leave s.p.a.ces for the water to rush in and sink the vessel. So, much hard work was done before the good collier was ready to be forced under the waves.

There was only a small chance that the men who took the Merrimac into the channel would ever see their friends again. Death in the waves, or death in the hands of the Spaniards, was the prospect. Lieutenant Hobson said that he would not take one man more than was needed. A signal was put up on all the s.h.i.+ps, to find out the men who were willing to go in the Merrimac. Hundreds of brave fellows sent in their names, begged to go, gave good reasons why they thought they ought to go, and were grieved to be refused. Lieutenant Hobson chose only six, but at the last minute a seventh man got his chance; so, counting Lieutenant Hobson, there were eight men going to almost certain death.

After the pa.s.sing away of the old wooden s.h.i.+ps of the navy, and before our war with Spain, it was often said that opportunities for individual bravery and daring had departed from the navy; but this was disproved in the case of Lieutenant Hobson and his men, and in many other instances. Every man in the fleet was ready to go on the Merrimac and do what he was told to do; and so long as such men man our s.h.i.+ps our navy can never be conquered. They will fight to the uttermost and go down with their colors rather than strike them.

Thursday evening, the second of June, arrives, and the Merrimac is all ready for her last voyage. The men are on board, waiting for the time to start. Quietly and fearlessly they pa.s.s the night, but they do not sleep, they cannot sleep. Behind the Merrimac, farther out at sea, stand the faithful vessels of our fleet, huge, pale shadows in the night. The full moon lights up the channel that the Merrimac will enter after awhile when the moon is low. On both sides of the channel rise the high cliffs with their forts. Morro Castle frowns upon the scene. Beyond--far beyond, are the mountain tops.

A basket of food and a kettle of coffee had been sent on board by the flags.h.i.+p, and after midnight the men sit down on deck to eat their last meal on board the Merrimac.

A little before two o'clock, Friday morning, June 3d, the Merrimac starts for the channel. Each man is at his post; each knows his duty and intends to do it. The men are not wearing their naval uniforms, but are clad only in woolen underclothes, woolen stockings, with no shoes. Each man wears a life-preserver, and a belt with a revolver fastened to it.

On, on goes the vessel, swiftly, surely, heading for the channel.

Suddenly shots begin to pour upon the Merrimac; the Spaniards in the forts have seen her approach. Still she plunges on, not heeding the fire from the forts. Lieutenant Hobson gives the signal to stop the engine, to turn the vessel in the right way across the channel, to fire the torpedoes, to drop the anchors. Sh.e.l.ls from the forts are exploding all around, and the noise is terrible. But hard luck meets the Merrimac. A shot has broken her rudder, so she cannot be steered; a shot has broken the chain of one of her anchors, so the anchor is gone; some of the torpedoes will not go off, so not enough holes can be made to sink the Merrimac quickly; the tide is sweeping her into the channel farther than she ought to go.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The "Merrimac."]

The men, having done their work, lie flat on deck to avoid the shots, and wait anxiously for the moment when the vessel shall go down. In a few minutes the Merrimac tosses low to one side, then to the other, then plunges, bow foremost, into the waves. Now the men are thrown into the whirling water. But see! they manage to swim to the life-raft, which had been fastened by a long rope to the Merrimac and is now floating on the waves. They cling to the raft, only heads and hands above water. They keep quiet, for the Spaniards are out in small boats now, looking to see what damage has been done. The Spaniards do not see our men clinging to the flat raft. So Lieutenant Hobson and his crew stay in the water, which is very chilly in the early morning; their teeth chatter, their limbs ache. Meanwhile day dawns beautifully over the hills of Santiago.

An hour pa.s.ses in this way. Now a steam-launch is seen coming toward the raft. Lieutenant Hobson hails the launch, asks for the officer in charge, and surrenders himself and his men. They are helped into the launch, prisoners in the hands of the Spaniards. The officer is Admiral Cervera.

Naval Cadet Powell, of the New York, performed a feat in many respects as heroic as that of Hobson and his men. He volunteered to take the launch of the flags.h.i.+p and a small crew, patrol the mouth of the harbor and attempt to rescue Hobson and his plucky crew should any of them survive after the Merrimac had been blown up. This is his story: