THE BATTLE OF THE SWASH.
On the morning of the 11th of May, 1890, the British fleet crossed
the bar, and steamed leisurely past Sandy Hook, and into the Swash
and main ship channels. The movements of the fleet seemed to be
characterized by great deliberation; as though there was nothing to
fear, and no occasion for haste. The larger vessels were especially
slow in their movements, and felt their way along in the most
cautious manner, each one being guided or piloted by two or more
torpedo boats, which kept a good distance in advance, and sounded the
channel carefully and constantly, indicating by signals the course
for the larger vessels to pursue. There was no haste, no confusion,
no noise or cheering, and no apparent notice was taken of the balls
and shells with which the antiquated guns on the forts on Long and
Staten Islands,--with much noise and banging, but no harmful
results,--managed to splash the water about half a mile or a mile
away from anything that they were aimed at. Most of the smaller
vessels gathered together near the point of Sandy Hook, with the
evident intention of anchoring in the Horseshoe. Here the first real
fighting took place. Some old wooden gunboats, (relics of the War of
the Rebellion) had been hastily repaired and equipped with one or two
guns; and had been stationed in the Horseshoe to act as a sort of a
harassing or observing force. The intention had evidently been for
them to watch the movements of the enemy from behind the shelter of
Sandy Hook, possibly exchanging a few shots with some of his weaker
vessels; and then, having acquired some knowledge of his movements
and intentions, as well as a taste of his quality, to retire up the
harbor, and join the remainder of the American fleet in the Upper
Bay. They acquired much more knowledge than they bargained for; and,
instead of a mere taste, they got a surfeit of the enemy's quality.
As the first large iron-clad--the "Camperdown,"--came within range,
they opened fire on her from their eight-inch guns. Having to fire
across the land (Sandy Hook) their first shots went away over the
"Camperdown," and the shells exploded harmlessly in the shallow water
miles away near the Coney Island shore.
The gunboats sat so low in the water, that their crews were obliged
to elevate their guns considerably, so as to have the projectiles go
clear of the land. This, of course, sent them away over the vessels
at which they were aimed; and although the low point of Sandy Hook
afforded them protection against the guns of the British, it also
prevented their own guns from being of any service. This attack,
however, seemed to spur the British Admiral into counter-action. A
vigorous exchange of signals was made between various members of the
fleet, and in a short time several of the torpedo boats and smaller
armored cruisers ran close in, by Sandy Hook, and running up past the
point and around into the Horseshoe, brought the American gunboats
into plain sight, and point blank range. Of course the result of the
contest between these modern iron-clads and the antiquated wooden
tubs of the Americans, was a foregone conclusion, and in less than
fifteen minutes from the time that the first gun was fired, the
latter were disposed of in the most summary manner. One sank where
she lay, her wooden hull having been perforated from stem to stern
with the projectiles fired from two rapid firing machine guns on one
of the British gunboats. Another one was disabled by a huge ten-inch
shell, which struck her nearly amidships, and literally blew her all
to pieces. The third one sought such safety as she could, by running
aground, and her crew, having first set her on fire, took to their
boats, and rowing ashore, disappeared in the thick cedar forest which
covers this part of Sandy Hook. No appreciable loss or damage was
inflicted upon the English vessels--all but one of which proceeded
quietly to anchor in the Horseshoe. This one steamed rapidly out to
the Flagship, communicated the result of the action to the Admiral,
and received orders to escort the remaining smaller vessels of the
fleet to the sheltered anchorage which had been so quickly and easily
won. The merchant cruisers, "Umbria," "Etruria" and "City of New
York" also anchored in the Horseshoe. Shortly after these vessels
had anchored, fire was opened upon them from an earth-work on the
Highlands of Navesink, which had been hastily thrown up, and mounted
with five or six old smoothbore Dahlgreen guns.
A few well aimed shells soon drove the men away from this battery,
and although on occasional shell was sent in that direction at
intervals during the remainder of the day, the Dahlgreens were
thenceforward dumb.
Meanwhile the balance of the fleet, consisting of the larger
iron-clad battle ships and cruisers, had anchored in the Swash
Channel, in a line extending nearly a mile and a half southeasterly
from the point of intersection of the Swash with the Main Channel,
near buoy fourteen. This position had evidently been previously
selected by the English Admiral as the best one outside of the
Narrows; which were supposed to be thoroughly protected by torpedoes
and other submerged obstructions. Nothing had as yet been been of
the American fleet. It was known to be assembled in the Upper Bay;
but it seemed strange that it should thus permit the enemy to
establish himself in a position of his own choosing, without any
hindrance or opposition.
The position was a remote one, it is true; but, still, if the enemy's
guns had a range as claimed--of over eleven miles,--a very large part
of New York, and nearly the whole of Brooklyn, were within reach of
his shells. There has never, so far as I can learn, any satisfactory
reason been given for this strange lack of action on the part of the
Americans. The only plausible explanation of it lies in the fact
that they appreciated the vast disproportion between their own fleet
and that of the enemy, and realizing the utter hopelessness of
attacking the latter successfully by daylight, and on equal terms,
determined to husband such strength as they possessed, and
concentrate the whole of it in the night attack upon the English,
which had been determined upon.
Thus it happened that the afternoon of the 11th of May passed quietly
and uneventfully, save when the silence was broken by the distant
reports of the guns from the Staten Island forts, or by the
occasional shelling of the abandoned earthwork on the Highlands.
Towards sundown a sort of a reconnaisance was made in the direction
of the Narrows by three torpedo boats; but, as they approached within
closer range of the guns of the forts, they abandoned their purpose
without reaching the first line of submerged obstructions. One of
them was disabled by a solid shot from Fort Richmond, and was towed
back to the Horseshoe by her two consorts in an apparently sinking
condition. As nightfall approached, there was an evident increase of
excitement and activity on all the English vessels. Torpedo boats
and steam launches, darted hither and thither from one of the
anchorages to the other, evidently conveying orders and instructions
for the coming night. Torpedo booms and nets were placed in
position, and elaborate instructions were issued to each separate
commander what to do in case of attack--steam was kept up on all
vessels, and the electric search lights were thoroughly tested, so as
to leave no doubt of their being in perfect order. Every preparation
which experience or ingenuity could suggest, was made to resist any
attack, no matter what its character might be, and no matter whence
it came.
For the first time in the memory of living men, there were no harbor
lights lighted that night. Orders had been given by telegraph to all
the different light-house keepers not to light their lamps, for fear
that the enemy might want to make some movement by night, which the
lighthouses would aid him in accomplishing. So from Sandy Hook to
Bobbin's Reef, in the Upper Bay, not a light was to be seen, except
such as was shown by the English vessels.
As soon as darkness set in, the firing both from the forts and from
the ships ceased; and an utter stillness fell upon the scene, broken
only now and then by the shrill whistle of some boatswain, or the
hoarse murmur of some loud-voiced petty officer, giving orders to the
watch on duty.
This quiet condition of things continued until after midnight. At
one o'clock A.M. all the light-houses in the harbor were lighted
simultaneously, and the surprised Englishmen saw themselves
surrounded with stationary and revolving lights, from Sandy Hook and
the Navesink Highlands on the south, to Cheesequake and Princess Bay
on the southwest and west; Elm Tree and Toad Hill on the north-west,
and the Narrows and Robbin's Reef in the distant north.
A hasty consultation of their charts convinced them that these were
merely the regular light-houses of the harbor; but if so, why had
they not been lighted earlier? Evidently their darkness all the
evening, and their simultaneous lighting at this late hour, proved
that instructions had been given to their keepers in advance, and if
so, must have been given with some object in view. So guns were
fired, and signals were exchanged, and orders were given to the whole
fleet to prepare for instant action, and the whole surface of the
Lower Bay seemed to be illuminated as if by magic, by the powerful
electric search lights which were turned in all directions, making
everything plainly visible almost to the horizon.
A faint sound, as of the distant rushing of waters, was heard in the
direction of the Narrows, and the word was passed quietly from
officers to men: "They're coming now, boys. Look sharp; and be ready
for them." It was the last of the ebb tide, and aided by it the
American fleet made rapid progress down the bay.
Suddenly, to the great bewilderment and dismay of the English, a vast
number of powerful electric lights seemed to spring out of the water
in almost every direction around them. These were nearly as powerful
as the search lights on their own vessels; and dazzled the eyes of
the British so completely, that their search lights were rendered
comparatively useless. Presuming, of course, that each of these was
on board of a vessel, and therefore represented something to be
destroyed, the English commenced blazing away with their guns, both
great and small, directing them against these lights.
"I had no idea the beggars had such a big fleet," said the British
Admiral to an officer standing near him on the dock of the flagship.
"Why there must be nearly two hundred of them. But they must be
small things, or we would know all about them. We have a list of
every ship in their navy up to last winter, and all told, there were
less than forty, so I don't fear them much."
If the admiral had only known then, what he discovered later on, he
need have had still less fear of these lights, and moreover, might
have saved a vast amount of valuable ammunition which was needlessly
wasted; for these powerful lights, instead of proceeding from the
deck or spars of hostile ships, were nothing more than decoy lights
on long spar buoys, whose lower ends being loaded, permitted them to
float upright with the tide, with about half their length out of
water, thus raising the lights about fifteen to twenty feet above the
surface of the bay. The lights were fed by powerful storage
batteries, and had been turned on as they had been launched overboard
from two swift little torpedo launches about a mile up the bay. The
tide being ebb, carried them quickly down to where the enemy's fleet
lay at anchor, and the latter, almost before they could realize their
position, found themselves, as they supposed, in the midst of the
American fleet.
These "Blinding buoys" as they were called, were one of the numerous
ingenious devices which had been called into existence by the
supposed approach of war.
They served their purpose of blinding and confusing the enemy
admirably; and if the Americans had only had force enough to have
enabled them to take advantage of the fright and confusion they
occasioned, the result of the conflict would have been very different
from what it was. When we consider however, the very limited means
at their disposal, it will be seen that they accomplished results
which seem well nigh incredible. The time of launching the "blinding
buoys" had been carefully chosen, so as to utilize them for the
longest possible period. The idea was to have them reach the
anchored vessels about a quarter of an hour before the tide turned,
so that they would remain among them as long as the slack water ebb
lasted. So the Englishmen kept blazing away at them for nearly half
an hour, without either inflicting any damage, or discovering their
fraudulent character. In the noise and confusion, it became
impossible to signal the other vessels of the fleet; and the wisdom
of issuing detailed orders in advance was now apparent.
In pursuance of these orders, the "Etruria," and "Umbria," and "City
of New York," and several of the other unarmored cruisers, slipped
their cables, and ran quietly out to sea. The smaller gunboats, at
anchor in the Horseshoe, extinguished all their lights, and gave no
indication whatever of their presence. But the torpedo boats
hastened to the scene of battle, eager to come to the assistance or
the rescue of their more formidable consorts. And it was one of
these, which first discovered the fraudulent character of the
"blinding buoys."
This boat--the "Terror"--having fixed upon one of these electric
lights as her own especial prey, made a dash for it, with the idea of
affixing a torpedo to it, and blowing it skyward. Nearer and nearer
it came--its dazzling brilliancy illuminating every part of the deck
of the little vessel, whose officers and crew stood with bated
breath, waiting for the crash which would indicate that their prey
was within their reach.
"Now! Lookout! Hold fast! Here she is!" Every man braced himself
and grasped some portion of the vessel nearest to him;--the rail--a
stanchion--a rope--anything to steady himself by, until the force of
the collision should have spent itself--when--behold! the light
disappears under the bow; and reappears a moment later, swaying
wildly from side to side, a dozen yards or more astern. There is no
crash--no collision--no shock--no tangible thing against which to
launch the waiting torpedo; only an exclamation by the man who had
been quietly waiting for the proper moment to launch his deadly
missile, of--"Well! I'll be d----d!" That was all.
The true character of the buoys having been thus discovered, no time
was lost in conveying the information to the nearest of the large
ships; which immediately ceased firing, and endeavored to signal her
consorts to do the game. Owing to the smoke, however, it was some
time before she could make her signals understood; and just she did
so, an immense explosion took place under her side, which seemed
almost to lift her, (monster though she was) out of the water; a
shivering and crashing of machinery and iron work ensued, and the
rushing waters poured into her hull, through a vast yawning chasm,
which the dynamite shell had made in her side. She sank in about
fifteen minutes--the first victim of Zalinski's dynamite gun. Most
of her crew were rescued; although quite a number went down with her.
By this time, the smoke had cleared away, and the search lights were
again beginning to be of some service, because the flood tide had
commenced running, and had carried the buoys away in towards Staten
Island. The lights enabled the English to discover several vessels;
among which was the dynamite gun boat "Vesuvius," whose maiden effort
had been so successful.
The slanting muzzles of her three guns could be plainly seen
projecting above her deck; and their attendants were evidently
getting them ready for another discharge. Two fast gun-boats, armed
with rapid firing four-inch guns, were signalled to attack her, and
disable her at once--which they proceeded to do with great promptness
and despatch.
The vessel herself withstood the onslaught fairly well; but the
muzzles of the long guns being entirely exposed, they were soon
rendered useless; and the commander of the "Vesuvius," seeing that
her usefulness was ended, sought safety in flight up the Bay.
Meanwhile the numerous torpedo boats were rushing to and fro, now and
then succeeding in exploding a torpedo in the vicinity of one of the
larger English vessels; but more frequently kept at a safe distance
by the torpedo booms and nets.
The submarine boat "Destroyer," succeeded in partially destroying two
iron-clads before she met destruction herself.
As this occurred in a most unexpected and curious manner, I will give
an account of it, while describing the battle; although the
particulars as to the manner of her destruction were not known until
long after the conflict was over. She had successfully exploded
large torpedoes directly under the bottoms of two of the English
ships; completely disabling one, and nearly sinking the other; and
had retired to a short distance from the scene of conflict, where she
lay partially submerged, evidently preparing to attack the
"Camperdown," one of the most formidable vessels of the fleet.
After a delay of about a half an hour, she was seen to start in the
direction of the "Camperdown," and shortly before reaching that
vessel, to disappear under water; presumably to go under her great
adversary's bottom.
This was the last that was seen of her. The panic and excitement on
the "Camperdown" was intense, as the officers and crew waited minute
after minute for the inevitable crash, which would in all
probability, sink their vessel, and involve the majority of
themselves in certain death. But notwithstanding the suspense and
terror which possessed them, not a man left his post, or refused to
obey the orders of his superiors. The whole crew was mustered on
deck, the boats were manned, life belts distributed among the men,
crews were told off to each boat; and in a grim and deathlike silence
they awaited the shock which would be the signal for them to leave
their vessel, and trust themselves to the mercy of the waters. But
they waited in vain. The shock never came. The "Destroyer" not only
failed to destroy her vast antagonist, but failed also to re-appear
herself on the surface of the water.
"Something must have happened to her!" exclaimed the American
admiral, who was watching her movements with a night glass, as well
as the smoke and the uncertain light from the search lights would
permit, from the bridge of the "Baltimore," his flagship, which was
manoeuvring around about two miles up the harbor.
"Something" indeed had happened to her; but it was not until several
weeks afterwards that anybody knew exactly what it was. Then divers
found her "standing on her head," with her ram so deeply imbedded in
the muddy bottom of the bay, that it required the united efforts of
two or three of the most powerful derricks in the harbor, to
extricate her. When she was finally brought to the surface, the dead
bodies of her crew were found on board of her. They had evidently
tried in vain to open the manhole, and take the desperate chance of
getting out, even in the face of the inrushing water, in preference
to the certain death from asphyxiation, which otherwise awaited them.
Their efforts for some reason had been unsuccessful, and the supply
of fresh air becoming exhausted, they had evidently died from
suffocation.
As yet, the American cruisers had taken no part in the struggle.
They were unarmored, and their guns were of comparatively short
range; and it would have been folly for them to have attacked their
heavily armored and armed opponents. The three American turret
ships, however, had at length come within range, and opened fire from
their revolving turrets upon the Englishmen. The heavy balls from
their smoothbore guns seemed to have but little effect on the thick
armor coating of the English ships; and as they could only fire at
each revolution of the turret, their fire was as slow, as it was
ineffectual.
Moreover the turrets soon proved utterly inadequate to resist the
tremendous penetrating power of the heavy English guns, and were
either absolutely perforated by the shot and shells; or else were so
bruised and battered and jarred and jammed, that they could no longer
be revolved on their carriages, and became utterly useless.
The most complete and phenomenal success on the American side,
however, was achieved by two insignificant looking little boats which
involved an entirely new--albeit a very simple--principle of marine
warfare as applicable to Harbor defense. These boats had been built
by private subscription as experiments, at a cost of about $50,000
each. Their inventor had appealed in vain to Congress to authorize
the construction of at least thirty or forty of them, which he
claimed would be amply sufficient to protect all of our principal
seaports, at an aggregate cost of about $2,000,000; or less than that
of a single first class iron-clad war vessel. His idea was strongly
backed up by the Secretary of the Navy, who urged Congress to make an
appropriation for the purpose of testing it thoroughly. When,
however, the inventor explained to the members of that intelligent
and brilliant body, that the principle upon which he based his
invention was that of self-destruction; and that to use his craft in
actual warfare, was to destroy it, these back country gentleman,
whose sole idea of statesmanship seemed to be limited to posing and
shouting like howling dervishes before the shrine of what they called
"economy," posed and shouted more violently than ever; and holding up
both hands in holy horror, had exclaimed: "What! waste two millions
of the people's money on things that are good for nothing without you
destroy them? Never! never! Let us rather reduce the terrible taxes
which now burden our struggling and poverty-stricken people; or if
the surplus must be spent, let us put it in the rivers and harbors
and public buildings of the country;" and straightway the
appropriations for those admirable purposes were doubled, and the
hare-brained inventor packed off from Washington with a very large
sized economical flea in his ear.
He had, however, at length succeeded in impressing some wealthy New
Yorkers with the value of his invention, and sufficient money had
been raised to build two boats, according to his plans. These boats
being intended for harbor defense only, did not need to be especially
seaworthy; nor did they require large quarters for crew, or much
space for fuel. Consequently, nearly their whole interior could be
occupied by engines and boilers; thus ensuring them a speed which
approximated thirty miles an hour. They were propelled by twin
screws, and could therefore turn around in nearly their own length.
They carried no arms or ammunition of any kind, except a gigantic
tube or cartridge, containing two tons of dynamite, which was carried
in a hollow place left for the purpose in the long steel ram, with
which their bows were armed. A full crew for one of these boats
consisted of eight men--two engineers, four firemen, and two pilots,
one of whom acted as deck-hand when required.
These men had been carefully selected from the marine militia, and
for several weeks had been drilling constantly in the upper and lower
bays. The drill was a peculiar one, and consisted simply of running
at high speed for a mile or so; then, at the stroke of a bell, the
four firemen would rush on deck, and leap over-board; a few moments
later, at the sound of a second bell, one engineer, and one pilot
would follow them; and lastly, just as the headway of the boat began
to slacken, the remaining engineer and pilot did likewise, striking
out, and swimming away from the boat, as rapidly as they could.
Being provided with cork jackets, they had no difficulty in
sustaining themselves until they were picked up by a steam launch,
which always accompanied them as a tender, and on which they would
rejoin their abandoned boat, which by that time would be drifting
lazily about with the tide, a mile or so away. The men had become
thoroughly accustomed to this service, and enjoyed it vastly,
although the summer was backward and the water was cold. These boats
were also arranged with large water tanks, which when filled, brought
them very low down in the water. Their roofs were a sort of
combination of dome and turtle back, composed of four-inch steel
plates.
Thus, when submerged to their "fighting depth," they offered but a
small target as they approached the enemy, and if a shot or shell
should strike them, it would in all probability glance off without
injury, owing to the angle at which it would strike. An electric
wire led from the pilot house to a clock-work arrangement, attached
to a percussion cap, which communicated with the two tons of dynamite
in the hollow bow of the boat. The problem was simply to rush at the
broadside of the opposing vessel from a distance of a couple of miles
or so, and as soon as possible, to give the engineers and firemen the
signal to jump overboard. Then, the pilots having remained at their
post until they were certain that the boat would strike the enemy, to
fasten the wheel amidships, with lashings provided for that purpose,
touch the button communicating with the clock-work, jump overboard
and swim for their lives during the seventy or eighty seconds in
which the clock arrangement was doing its deadly work; and then,
after the tremendous explosion, which would blow both their own and
the enemy's vessel into a thousand fragments, to float quietly about
until picked up by their tender.
In was a perfectly simple and feasible thing to do, and in this, its
first trial in actual warfare, it worked to a charm.
The "Victoria," the largest and most formidable of the turreted
ships, and the "Camperdown," the largest of the armored ships, were
the two vessels selected for the two experimental dynamite rams to
operate against.
These rams bore the suggestive names of "Suicide" and "Samson."
The smoke having partially cleared away, the position of the two
English ships could be accurately determined, and the two small rams
at length received the expected signal to proceed to the attack.
Making a circuit of about a mile, to get under good headway, they
headed straight for their respective victims, and rushed towards them
at a frightful rate of speed. They were followed at a considerable
distance by their respective tenders. Their presence was soon
discovered by the aid of the electric search lights, and a severe
fire was opened on them from all the British vessels within range.
Owing to their peculiar construction, this fire had little or no
effect upon them; and they continued their headlong race towards the
two giant ships, lying quietly at anchor in fancied security.
Suddenly several figures were seen to rush wildly astern and jump
overboard. But still the rams kept up their tremendous speed, and
were pointed directly at the amidship section of the two iron-clads.
Nearer and nearer they came, in spite of the deadly and continuous
firing from the enemy's guns, both great and small, which seemed
utterly impotent to check their progress. At last, when they were
within a couple of hundred yards or so of the iron-clads, each blew a
short sharp single blast with its whistle, and two men were seen to
run aft, and roll down the inclined surface of the turtle-backed roof
of each ram, into the water. The rams themselves kept on, however,
and a collision was seen to be inevitable. Orders were given to the
English crews to hold themselves in readiness to repel boarders. But
in vain! The tireless little rams rushed onward--madly, wildly,
triumphantly, gladly--to their own destruction; but to the
destruction also of their enemies. A jar, a sound--not so very
loud--of snapping bolts and crushing iron plates; a sound of confused
voices, saying: "She has struck us," "She has gone half way through
us!" a few instants of comparative silence,--during which the
officers consult hastily as to what had better be done. An order or
two given in quick sharp tones; and then--with a mighty rumble and
flash; with a frightful tossing and splashing of the water; with a
thunderous roar, and a soul sickening shiver, which seemed to impart
itself even to the sea, the two great ships, and their two little
adversaries met a common fate--being both blown to atoms--and
disappeared forever beneath the waves.
The loss of life was terrific on the two English ships; as most of
their crews went down with them; but a few were rescued by boats,
which were quickly lowered from the remaining vessels of the fleet;
and quite a number were picked up by the launches, which were acting
as tenders to the two rams, and gathering up their swimming crews.
These latter had diminutive electric lights on their caps, and having
turned these on, as soon as they jumped overboard, were easily
discovered and picked up.
The effect of these tremendous explosions of dynamite was
demoralizing in the extreme, to the English officers and crews: and
although the attack was not pressed by the Americans, the order was
given, to such of the fleet as remained, to hoist anchor, and proceed
out to tea. It was now nearly daylight, and at six o'clock that
morning (May 12th) the telegraph operator at Navesink Highlands
telegraphed to the N.Y. Associated Press, as follows:
"British fleet all apparently lying at anchor just outside the bar.
Three or four of the largest iron-clads missing. They are supposed
to have been captured or sunk in the battle last night. The distance
is too great to distinguish those which remain; but there seems to be
considerable activity among the smaller vessels; and the launches are
moving about from one ship to another, as if for consultation, or
giving or receiving orders. The fleet is probably repairing damages,
as far as possible, before proceeding to sea. It is supposed here
that they will sail direct for Halifax for repairs and refitting."
This despatch was published in extra editions of all the newspapers
in New York and Brooklyn; and, taken in connection with the accounts
received from the officers and crews of the American fleet, which had
returned to its anchorage in the upper Bay after the fight was over,
and which united in describing the affair as a complete and glorious
victory, it occasioned great rejoicing in those cities. Cannon were
fired, flags were hoisted, thanksgiving services were held in many of
the churches, and the citizens testified their delight and
satisfaction in the wildest and most extravagant manner.
To add to the public excitement, and to intensify, if possible, the
patriotic enthusiasm of the people, despatches arrived from General
Schofield, to the effect that he had met a large body of the enemy,
and had not only repulsed their attack, but had put them completely
to rout and captured several thousand prisoners; and the flying
remnants had been pursued by his cavalry to the St. Lawrence River,
opposite Montreal.
So much simultaneous good news was decidedly exhilarating; and it is
not to be wondered at, that pandemonium seemed to have broken loose
in New York and Brooklyn that evening.
Bonfires were lighted; fireworks were set off; improvised torchlight
processions made night hideous with their cheers, and drums and
fifes, and cannon firings; and banners and transparencies, in which
poor old John Bull was shot, and stabbed, and drawn and quartered,
and in many other ingenious and hitherto unheard of ways, put an end
to for ever and ever, were to be seen in every street.
In one of these, Ireland, represented as a broad shouldered,
strapping young woman, with a suspiciously rubicund countenance
(especially about the tip of her nose), dressed in green
silk--_decolleté_--had thrown her brawny arms around the neck of
Uncle Sam, who obligingly bent over, half way across the Atlantic, to
permit this trans-oceanic caress. This transparency was wildly
cheered, and was followed by a tremendous crowd of shouting and
yelling men and boys, until the candles went out, and the bar-rooms
closed for the night.
The newspapers of the 13th of May, in all parts of the country,
indulged in the wildest jubilations, and the "croakers," who had
theretofore called attention to the weakness of the American navy,
and the defenseless condition of American seaports, were ridiculed
and abused in the most unmeasured terms throughout the length and
breadth of the land. American ingenuity was lauded to the skies, as
being equal to every emergency, and able to bid defiance to all the
antiquated Old World methods of war-making. The American
Eagle--never a very modest bird--flapped its wings, and screamed in a
manner which put to shame its most extravagant previous efforts in
that line.
In England the situation was exactly reversed. The French cable had
of course carried the news of the British defeat to Paris; and from
them it had been wired to London, with such additions and
exaggerations as French unfriendliness to England could suggest; and
London was in an uproar. Lord Randolph Churchill was burned in
effigy in various parts of the city and country, and a general chorus
of "I told you so's," coupled with estimates of the cost in pounds,
shillings and pence, of the destroyed fleet, went up like a National
wail, from one end of Great Britain to the other. Bonfires were
lighted on every hill-top in Ireland, and the streets of Dublin and
Cork were fairly green with millions of Irish flags. The continental
newspapers, especially the German and French ones, all contained
labored articles, giving various accounts of the battle, and paying
the highest tribute to the inventive genius of "those wonderful
Americans," and condoling with England in rather a sarcastic vein
upon her loss of prestige as a naval power. For a wonder, the French
and German journals had at length a subject upon which they could
agree, and they seemed to vie with each other in the publication of
articles in which their intense hatred and jealousy of England, was
but thinly disguised, under the most polite expressions of sympathy
for her fall from a place among the highest, to a position among the
third or fourth-rate powers of the world. The immediate dissolution
of the "so called British Empire" was spoken of as a matter of
course, and while it was generally conceded that Australia would be
able to maintain itself as an independent power, the probable fate of
British India was a subject upon which these writers displayed for
three or four days, the customary combination of ignorance and
ingenuity, for which the continental press of Europe is to justly
renowned.