Max had done bravely and well, and no one rejoiced more keenly in the
victory than he, though his heart bled for the wounded and slain. He
as well as others listened eagerly for the accounts of the captains of
the other vessels of the fleet as they came on board to report to the
commodore.
"How many killed?" was demanded of each one, as he stepped on the deck,
and great was the surprise and satisfaction on learning that none had
been killed.
"Only eight wounded, none seriously," was the reply of Captain Dyer
of the _Baltimore_. "But six shells struck us, and two burst inboard
without hurting any one."
"Not a dashed one," was the next captain's answer. "None killed and
none wounded," said the third, "but I don't yet know how it happened.
I suppose you fellows were all cut up."
"My ship wasn't hit at all," was the next report.
It was known that the _Boston_ had been on fire, therefore it was
expected that her captain would have to report a serious list of
casualties, and when he announced that no one had been killed or
wounded on his vessel the news spread quickly through the flagship,
and the men cheered vociferously. The _Baltimore_ had been struck by a
sixty-pound projectile, fired from a land battery. It struck the ship
about two feet above the upper deck, between two guns which were being
served; pierced two plates of steel each one-quarter of an inch thick;
then ploughed through the wooden deck, striking and breaking a heavy
beam, by which it was turned upward; then it passed through a steel
hatch-combing; disabled a six-inch gun; hurtled around the semicircular
shield which surrounded the gun, missing the men at it; reversed its
course and travelled back to a point almost opposite that at which it
had entered the ship, and thus passed out. It had passed between men
crowded at their quarters and had touched none, but it exploded some
loose ammunition, by which eight were wounded.
Max listened to the accounts of the almost bloodless victory with
a heart swelling with gratitude to God, and full of hope for the
success of America's effort to free the victims of Spanish cruelty and
oppression. What glad tidings his next letter would carry to the dear
ones at home. They would rejoice over the victory, and his safety too,
though that might be again imperilled at any time.
This naval battle had been fought on Sunday. On Monday morning Captain
Lamberton went on shore to receive the formal surrender of the fort at
Cavité. They had hauled down their flag the day before, but now tried
to prove that they had never done so. Perceiving that, the captain drew
out his watch. Before leaving his ship he had directed that unless he
returned in an hour those works should be bombarded. Forty-five minutes
of that hour were now gone, and he said to the Spaniards: "Unless you
surrender unconditionally so soon that I can get back to my ship in
fifteen minutes, the _Petrel_ will open fire on your works."
That had the desired effect; they surrendered at once, and priests and
nuns came humbly to beg him to restrain his men from murdering all
the wounded in the hospitals. They had been told that that was the
invariable practice of the barbarous "Yanquis."
The next day the _Raleigh_ and _Baltimore_ went down to the mouth of
the bay and, after a brief attack, captured the forts on Corregidor
and Sangley Point. The guns in these works were destroyed by wrapping
them with gun cotton and exploding it with electricity. The officer in
command at Corregidor went aboard the _Raleigh_ to surrender himself,
and while there seemed greatly alarmed to find the ship drifting in
the main channel, or Boca Grand, and demanded that he be at once put
ashore. Asked the reason of his alarm and haste to get away, he said
the channel was full of contact mines, and though the Americans might
be satisfied to brave death by them he was not, and it was not fair
to expose a prisoner to almost certain destruction. And that was the
channel through which the American fleet had entered the harbor.
Four days after his victory Dewey, having all the harbor defences at
his command, sent off the _McCulloch_ to Hong-Kong with his first
despatches to Washington. So a week had passed after the rumors from
Madrid before the American people received definite information
in regard to Dewey's successes in the Philippines. These are the
despatches:
MANILA, May 1.--Squadron arrived at Manila at daybreak this morning.
Immediately engaged the enemy and destroyed following Spanish
vessels: _Reina Cristina_, _Castilla_, _Don Antonio de Ulloa_, _Isla
de Luzon_, _Isla de Cuba_, _General Lezo_, _Marques del Duoro_,
_El Correo_, _Velasco_, _Isla de Mindanao_, a transport, and water
battery at Cavité. The squadron is uninjured, and only a few men are
slightly wounded. Only means of telegraphing is to American consul at
Hong-Kong. I shall communicate with him.
DEWEY.
MANILA, May 4.--I have taken possession of the naval station at
Cavité, Philippine Islands, and destroyed the fortifications. Have
destroyed fortifications at bay entrance, Corregidor Island,
parolling the garrison. I control the bay completely, and can take the
city at any time. The squadron is in excellent health and spirits. The
Spanish loss not fully known, but is very heavy. One hundred and fifty
killed, including captain, on _Reina Cristina_ alone. I am assisting
in protecting Spanish sick and wounded. Two hundred and fifty sick and
wounded in hospital within our lines. Much excitement in Manila. Will
protect foreign residents.
DEWEY.
A message of congratulation from the President and people of the United
States was the immediate response to Dewey's despatches, and with
it the information that the President had appointed the victorious
commander a rear-admiral. Doubtless a rumor concerning the nature of
that despatch quickly reached all the vessels of the fleet, for the
next morning watchful eyes on many of them turned to the flagship to
see what flag would be run up to the mainmast, and when they saw that
it was a blue flag as of yore, but had two stars instead of one, the
guns of the squadron roared out a salute to the new admiral. No one
there was more rejoiced than Max, who both respected and loved his
gallant commander; and no one in America felt happier over the good
news in Dewey's despatches than those to whom Max was so dear. It was
a blessed relief to their anxiety to learn that no one in the squadron
had been killed, and none more than slightly wounded.