THE STORY OF HOBSON AND THE _MERRIMAC_
Only half the regiment was to go, and no horses could be taken, except
a few belonging to officers. The capacity of the transports was
limited, and though troops were packed into them like sardines into a
can, there was only room for 15,000 men, together with a few horses, a
pack-train of mules, four light batteries, and two of siege-guns. So,
thousands of soldiers, heartbroken by disappointment, and very many
things important to the success of a campaign, were to be left behind.
Two dismounted squadrons of the Rough Riders were chosen to accompany
the expedition, which, with the exception of themselves and two
regiments of volunteer infantry, was composed of regulars; and, to the
great joy of Ridge and his immediate friends, their troop was among
those thus selected. But their joy was dimmed by being dismounted, and
Ridge almost wept when obliged to part with his beloved mare.
However, as Rollo philosophically remarked, "Everything goes in time of
war, or rather most everything does, and what can't go must be left
behind."
So five hundred of the horseless riders were piled into a train of
empty coal-cars, each man carrying on his person in blanket roll and
haversack whatever baggage he was allowed to take, and they were
rattled noisily away to Port Tampa, where, after much vexatious delay,
they finally boarded the transport _Yucatan_, and felt that they were
fairly off for Cuba.
But not yet. Again came a rumor of strange war-ships hovering off the
coast, and with it a frightened but imperative order from Washington to
wait. So they waited in the broiling heat, crowded almost to
suffocation in narrow spaces--men delicately reared and used to every
luxury, men who had never before breathed any but the pure air of
mountain or boundless plain--and their only growl was at the delay that
kept them from going to where conditions would be even worse. They ate
their coarse food whenever and wherever they could get it, drank tepid
water from tin cups that were equally available for soup or coffee, and
laughed at their discomforts. "But why don't they let us go?" was the
constant cry heard on all sides at all hours.
During this most tedious of all their waitings, only one thing of real
interest happened. They had heard of the daring exploit of Naval
Lieutenant Richmond Pearson Hobson, who, on the night of June 3d, had
sunk the big coal-steamer _Merrimac_ in the narrowest part of Santiago
Harbor, in the hope of thus preventing the escape of Admiral Cervera's
bottled fleet, and they had exulted over this latest example of
dauntless American heroism, but none of the details had yet reached
them.
On one of their waiting days a swift steam-yacht, now an armed
government despatch-boat, dashed into Tampa Bay, and dropped anchor
near the _Yucatan_. Rumor immediately had it that she was from the
blockading fleet of Santiago, and every eye was turned upon her with
interest. A small boat carried her commanding officer ashore, and
while he was gone another brought one of her juniors, Ensign Dick
Comly, to visit his only brother, who was a Rough Rider. The _Speedy_
had just come from Santiago, and of course Ensign Comly knew all about
Hobson. Would he tell the story of the _Merrimac_? Certainly he
would, and so a few minutes after his arrival the naval man was
relating the thrilling tale as follows:
"I don't suppose many of you fellows ever heard of Hobson before this,
but every one in the navy knew of him long ago. He is from Alabama,
was the youngest man in the Naval Academy class of '89, graduated
number 2, was sent abroad to study naval architecture, and, upon
returning to this country, was given the rank of Assistant Naval
Constructor. At the beginning of this war he was one of the
instructors at Annapolis, but immediately applied for active duty, and
was assigned to the _New York_.
"When Victor Blue, of the _Suwanee_, had proved beyond a doubt by going
ashore and counting them that all of Cervera's ships were in Santiago
Harbor, Hobson conceived the plan of keeping them there by taking in a
ship and sinking it across the channel. Of course it was a perfectly
useless thing to do, for Sampson's fleet is powerful enough to lick the
stuffing out of the whole Spanish navy, if only it could get the
chance. However, the notion took with the Admiral, and Hobson was told
to go ahead.
"He selected the collier _Merrimac_, a big iron steamer 300 feet long,
stripped her of all valuable movables, and fastened a lot of torpedoes
to her bottom. Each one of these was sufficiently powerful to sink the
ship, and all were connected by wires with a button on the bridge.
Hobson's plan was to steam into the channel at full speed, regardless
of mines or batteries, and anchor his ship across the narrowest part of
the channel. There he proposed to blow her up and sink her. What was
to become of himself and the half dozen men who were to go with him I
don't know, and don't suppose he cared.
"At the same time there was some provision made for escape in case any
of them survived the blowing up of their ship. They carried one small
dingy along, and an old life-raft was left on board. A steam-launch
from the _New York_ was to follow them close in under the batteries,
and lie there so long as there was a chance of picking any of them up,
or until driven off. Cadets Palmer and Powell, each eager to go on
this service, drew lots to see which should command the launch, and
luck favored the latter.
"When it was known that six men were wanted to accompany Hobson to
almost certain death, four thousand volunteered, and three thousand
nine hundred and ninety-four were mightily disappointed when the other
six were chosen."
"I should have felt just as they did if I had been left in camp," said
Ridge, who was following this story with eager interest.
"Me too," replied Rollo Van Kyp, to whom the remark was addressed.
"The worst of it was," continued the Ensign, "that those fellows didn't
get to go, after all, for when they had put in twenty-four hours of
hard work on the _Merrimac_, with no sleep and but little to eat, only
kept up by the keenest kind of excitement, it was decided to postpone
the attempt until the following night. At the same time the Admiral,
fearing the nerve of the men would be shaken by so long a strain,
ordered them back to their ships, with thanks for their devotion to the
service, and selected six others to take their places. The poor
fellows were so broken up by this that some of them cried like babies."
"It was as bad as though we should be ordered to remain behind now,"
said Ridge.
"Yes," answered Rollo. "But that would be more than I could bear. I'd
mutiny and refuse to go ashore. Wouldn't you?"
"I should certainly feel like it," laughed the former. "But orders are
orders, and we have sworn to obey them, you know. At the same time
there's no cause for worry. We are certain to go if any one does."
"Yes, me and Teddy--" began Rollo, but Ridge silenced him that they
might hear the continuation of the Ensign's story.
"At three o'clock on Friday morning, the 3d," resumed Comly, "the
_Merrimac_ left the fleet and steamed in towards Santiago entrance. On
board, besides Hobson and his six chosen men, was one other, a coxswain
of the _New York_, who had helped prepare the collier for her fate, and
at the last moment stowed himself away in her hold for the sake of
sharing it.
"With Hobson on the bridge, two men at the wheel, two in the
engine-room, two stoking, and one forward ready to cut away the anchor,
the doomed ship entered the narrow water-way and passed the outer line
of mines in safety. Then the Spaniards discovered her, and from the
way they let loose they must have thought the whole American fleet was
trying to force the passage. In an instant she was the focus for a
perfect cyclone of shot and shell from every gun that could be brought
to bear, on both sides of the channel.
"It was like rushing into the very jaws of hell, with mines exploding
all about her, solid shot and bursting shells tearing at her vitals,
and a cloud of Mauser bullets buzzing like hornets across her deck.
How she lived to get where she was wanted is a mystery; but she did,
and they sunk her just inside the Estrella battery. At the last they
could not steer her, because her rudder was knocked away. So they
anchored, waited as cool as cucumbers for the tide to swing her into
position, opened all their sea-valves, touched off their torpedoes, and
blew her up.
"So far everything had worked to perfection. The seven men, still
unhurt, were well aft, where Hobson joined them the moment he had
pressed the button; but now their troubles began. The dingy in which
they had hoped to escape had been shot to pieces, and they dared not
try to get their raft overboard, for the growing light would have
revealed their movements, and they would have been a target for every
gunner and rifleman within range. So they could only lie flat on deck
and wait for something to happen. A little after daybreak the ship
sank so low and with such a list that the raft slipped into the water
and floated of its own accord. On this all of them, including two had
been wounded by flying splinters, rolled overboard after it, caught
hold of the clumsy old float, and tried to swim it out to where Powell
could pick them up. They had only gained a few yards when a
steam-launch coming from the harbor bore down on them. Some marines in
the bow were about to open fire, when Hobson sang out, 'Is there any
officer on board that launch entitled to receive the surrender of
prisoners of war?'
"'Yes, señor, there is,' answered a voice, which also ordered the
marines not to fire, and I'll be blowed if Admiral Cervera himself
didn't stick his head out from under the awning. The old fellow was as
nice as pie to Hobson and his men, told them they had done a fine
thing, took them back to his ship, fed them, fitted them out with dry
clothing, and then sent Captain Oviedo, his chief of staff, out to the
_New York_, under a flag of truce, to report that the _Merrimac's_
crew, though prisoners, were alive and well. He also offered to carry
back any message or supplies the American Admiral might choose to send
them. Didn't every soul in that fleet yell when the signal of Hobson's
safety was made? Well, I should rather say we did. I only hope old
Cervera will fall into our hands some day, so that we can show him how
we appreciate his decency."
"Three cheers for the Spanish Admiral right now!" shouted Ridge, and
the yell that instantly rose from the deck of the _Yucatan_ in reply
was heard on shore for a mile inland.
The noise had barely subsided when a voice called for Sergeant Norris.
"Here I am. Who wants me?" replied Ridge, inquiringly.
"Take your belongings ashore, sir, and report back at camp
immediately," was the startling response, delivered in the form of an
order by Major Herman Dodley, who was now on the staff of the
commanding general. "I have a boat in waiting. If you are ready
within two minutes I will set you ashore. Otherwise you will suffer
the consequences of your own delay," added the Major, who, while on
duty at Port Tampa, had received by telegraph the orders he was now
carrying out.