CHAPTER VI.

CARDENAS AND SAN JUAN.

_May 11._ The Spanish batteries in Cardenas Harbour were silenced on May

11th, and at the same time there was a display of heroism, on the part of

American sailors, such as has never been surpassed.

A plan of action having been decided upon, the _Wilmington_ arrived at the

blockading station from Key West on the morning of the eleventh. She found

there, off Piedras Bay, the cruiser _Machias_, the torpedo-boat _Winslow_,

and the revenue cutter _Hudson_, which last carried two 6-pounders.

Shortly after noon the _Wilmington_, _Winslow_, and _Hudson_ moved into

the inner harbour of Cardenas, and prepared to draw the fire of the

Spanish batteries on the water-front. The _Wilmington_ took a range of

about twenty-five hundred yards.

The Cardenas land defences consisted of a battery in a stone fortification

on the mole or quay, a battery of field-pieces, and of infantry armed with

long-range rifles. The gunboats were equipped with rapid-fire guns.

Firing commenced at one o’clock, and when the Cardenas batteries were

silenced at two in the afternoon, the _Wilmington_ had sent 376 shells

into them and the town. Her 4-inch guns had been fired 144 times. She had

aimed 122 shots from her 6-pounders, and 110 from her 1-pounders, over six

shots a minute.

When the _Wilmington_ ceased firing she had moved up to within one

thousand yards range of the Spanish guns, and there were only six inches

of water under her keel. The _Wilmington_ draws nine feet of water forward

and ten and a half feet aft. When the soundings showed that she was almost

touching, her guns were in full play, and the Spaniards had missed a

beautiful opportunity. The Spanish gunners must have miscalculated her

distance and misjudged her draught, else they would have done more

effective work at a range of two thousand yards.

During the engagement, when the commander of the _Winslow_ found that he

could not approach close enough to the Spanish gunboats to use his

torpedo-tubes to any advantage, he remained under fire. At that time he

could have got out of harm’s way by taking shelter to the leeward of the

_Wilmington_.

Captain Todd, from his post of duty in the conning-tower of the

_Wilmington_, saw a Spanish shell, aimed for the torpedo-boat, do its

deadly work. The shell struck the water, took an up-shoot, and exploded on

the deck of the _Winslow_. There is little room for men anywhere on a

torpedo boat, and if a shot strikes at all it is almost sure to hit a

group. Such was the case in the _Winslow_. The exploding shell cost the

lives of Ensign Bagley and four seamen; it also crippled the craft by

wrecking her steam-steering gear. Later her captain and one of his crew

were wounded by separate shots.

[Illustration: THE TRAGEDY OF THE WINSLOW.]

Ensign Bagley was killed outright, two of the group of five died on the

deck of the disabled torpedo-boat, and the other two died while being

removed to the _Wilmington_.

The signal, “Many wounded,” went up from the staff of the _Winslow_, and

Passed Assistant Surgeon Cook of the _Wilmington_ boarded the

torpedo-boat.

The _Hudson_ tied up to the _Winslow_ and towed her out of danger,

escaping unscathed. The wounded men were tenderly cared for on the

cruiser, and that night the revenue cutter steamed out of Cardenas Bay,

bearing the dead and wounded to Key West.

William O’Hearn, of Brooklyn, N. Y., one of the _Winslow’s_ crew, thus

tells his story of the battle to a newspaper correspondent:

“From the very beginning,” he said, “I think every man on the boat

believed that we could not escape being sunk, and that is what would have

happened had it not been for the bravery of the boys on the _Hudson_, who

worked for over an hour under the most terrific fire to get us out of

range.”

“Were you ordered to go in there?” he was asked.

“Yes; just before we were fired upon the order was given from the

_Wilmington_.”

“Was it a signal order?”

“No; we were near enough to the _Wilmington_ so that they shouted it to us

from the deck, through the megaphone.”

“Do you remember the words of the commander who gave them?”

“I don’t know who shouted the order; but the words as I remember them

were, ‘Mr. Bagley, go in and see what gunboats there are.’ We started at

once towards the Cardenas dock, and the firing began soon after.

“The first thing I saw,” continued O’Hearn, “was a shot fired from a

window or door in the second story of the storehouse just back of the dock

where the Spanish gunboats were lying. A shell then went hissing over our

heads. Then the firing began from the gunboat at the wharf, and from the

shore. The effect of shell and heavy shot the first time a man is under

fire is something terrible.

“First you hear that awful buzzing or whizzing, and then something seems

to strike you in the face and head. I noticed that at first the boys threw

their hands to their heads every time a shell went over; but they soon

came so fast and so close that it was a roaring, shrieking, crashing hell.

“I am the water-tender, and my place is below, but everybody went on deck

when the battle began. John Varvares, the oiler, John Denif and John Meek,

the firemen, were on watch with me, and had they remained below they would

not have been killed.

“After the firing began I went below again to attend to the boiler, and a

few minutes later a solid shot came crashing through the side of the boat

and into the boiler, where it exploded and destroyed seventy of the tubes.

“At first it stunned me. When the shell burst in the boiler it threw both

the furnace doors open, and the fuse from the shell struck my feet. It was

a terrible crash, and the boiler-room was filled with dust and steam. For

several seconds I was partially stunned, and my ears rang so I could hear

nothing. I went up on the deck to report to Captain Bernadou.

“I saw him near the forecastle gun, limping about with a towel wound

around his left leg. He was shouting, and the noise of all the guns was

like continuous thunder. ‘Captain,’ I cried, ‘the forward boiler is

disabled. A shell has gone through it.’

“‘Get out the hose,’ he said, and turned to the gun again. I made my way

to the boiler-room, in a few minutes went up on the deck again, and the

fighting had grown hotter than ever. Several of the men were missing, and

I looked around.

“Lying all in a heap on the after-deck in the starboard quarter, near the

after conning-tower, I saw five of our men where they had wilted down

after the shell struck them. In other places were men lying groaning, or

dragging themselves about, wounded and covered with blood. There were big

red spots on the deck, which was strewn with fragments and splinters.

“I went to where the five men were lying, and saw that all were not dead.

John Meek could speak and move one hand slightly. I put my face down close

to his.

“‘Can I do anything for you, John?’ I asked, and he replied, ‘No, Jack, I

am dying; good-bye,’ and he asked me to grasp his hand. ‘Go help the

rest,’ he whispered, gazing with fixed eyes toward where Captain Bernadou

was still firing the forward gun. The next minute he was dead.

“Ensign Bagley was lying on the deck nearly torn to pieces, and the bodies

of the other three were on top of him. The coloured cook was a little

apart from the others, mangled, and in a cramped position. We supposed he

was dead, and covered him up the same as the others. Nearly half an hour

after that we heard him calling, and saw that he was making a slight

movement under the clothes. I went up to him, and he said:

“‘Oh, boys, for God’s sake move me. I am lying over the boiler and burning

up.’

“The deck was very hot, and his flesh had been almost roasted. He

complained that his neck was cramped, but did not seem to feel his

terrible wound. We moved him into an easier position, and gave him some

water.

“‘Thank you, sir,’ he said, and in five seconds he was dead.”

Ensign Bagley had been fearfully wounded by a shot, which practically tore

through his body. He sank over the rail, and was grasped by one of the

enlisted men, named Reagan, who lifted him up and placed him on the deck.

[Illustration: U. S. S. AMPHITRITE.]

The young officer, realising that the wound was fatal, and that he had

only a short time to live, allowed no murmur of complaint or cry of pain

to escape him, but opened his eyes, stared at the sailor, and simply said:

“Thank you, Reagan.”

These were the last words he spoke.

_May 12._ The forts of San Juan, the capital of Porto Rico, were bombarded

by a portion of Rear-Admiral Sampson’s fleet on Thursday morning, May

12th. The vessels taking part in the action were the battle-ships _New

York_, _Iowa_, _Indiana_, the cruisers _Detroit_ and _Montgomery_, and the

monitors _Terror_ and _Amphitrite_.

The engagement began at 5.15 and ended at 8.15 A. M., resulting in a loss

to the Americans of one killed and seven wounded, and the death of one

from prostration by heat. The Spanish loss, as reported by cable to

Madrid, was five killed and forty-three wounded.

Admiral Sampson’s orders were to refrain from making any land attack so

long as the batteries on shore did not attempt to molest his ships; but in

case the Spaniards fired on his vessels, to destroy the offending

fortifications.

These orders were not issued until the Spanish fire at different Cuban

ports became so irritating to the American bluejackets that discipline

was, in a measure, threatened; but as soon as the men learned that they

were no longer to remain passive targets for the Spaniards, but were to

return any shots against them, all grumbling against inaction ceased.

It was not Admiral Sampson’s original intention to attack San Juan. He was

looking for bigger game than the poorly defended Porto Rican capital. His

orders from the Navy Department were to find and capture or destroy the

Spanish squadron that was en route from the Cape Verde Islands, and it was

this business that took him into the neighbourhood of San Juan, he being

desirous of learning if the Spanish squadron were there.

The fleet arrived off San Juan before daybreak on Thursday. The tug

_Wampatuck_ was ordered to take soundings in the channel, and at once

proceeded to do so. She was fully half a mile ahead of the fleet when she

entered the channel, and those aboard of her kept the lead going at a

lively rate.

It is supposed that Admiral Sampson had no intention at that time of

entering the harbour itself, his object, when he found that the Spanish

squadron was not at San Juan, being to learn for future use exactly how

much water there was in the channel, and if any attempt had been made to

block the way.

At all events, while the _Wampatuck_ was engaged in this work she was seen

by the sentries at the Morro, and a few minutes later was fired on.

Then, and not until then, did Admiral Sampson determine to teach the

Spaniards a lesson regarding the danger of firing on the American flag.

“Quarters!” rang out aboard the war-ships almost before the report of the

Morro gun had died away, the flag-ship having signalled for action.

The _Iowa_ opened the bombardment with her big 12-inch gun, the missile

striking Morro Castle squarely, and knocking a great hole in the masonry.

Then the _Indiana_ sent a 13-inch projectile from the forward turret, and

one after the other, with but little loss of time, the remaining vessels

of the fleet aided in the work of destruction.

The French war-ship _Admiral Rigault de Genoailly_ was at anchor in the

harbour, and a shell exploded within a few hundred feet of where she lay,

but worked no injury.

The French officers thus reported the action:

“The American gunners were generally accurate in their firing, while the

marksmanship of the Spaniards was inferior. Some of the American shells,

however, passed over the fortifications into the city, where they did

terrible damage, crashing straight through rows of buildings before

exploding, and there killing many citizens.

“The fortifications were irreparably injured. Repeatedly masses of masonry

were blown skyward by the shells from the American guns. Fragments from

one shell struck the commandante’s residence, which was situated near the

fortifications, damaging it terrifically.”

Morro Castle was speedily silenced, and then the guns of the fleet were

turned on the land-batteries and the fortifications near the government

buildings.

The inhabitants fled in terror from the city; the volunteers,

panic-stricken, ran frantically in every direction, discharging their

weapons at random, until they were a menace to all within possible range.

The crashing of the falling buildings, the roar of the heavy guns, the

shrieks of the terrified and groans of the wounded, formed a horrible

accompaniment to the work of destruction.

Three times the line of American ships passed from the entrance of the

harbour to the extreme eastward battery, sending shot and shell into the

crumbling forts. Clouds of dust showed where the missiles struck, but the

smoke hung over everything. The shells screeching overhead and dropping

around were the only signs that the Spaniards still stuck to their guns.

At 7.45 A. M. Admiral Sampson signalled, “Cease firing.”

“Retire” was sounded on the _Iowa_, and she headed from the shore.

The _Terror_ was the last ship in the line, and, failing to see the

signal, banged away alone for about half an hour, the concert of shore

guns roaring at her and the water flying high around her from the

exploding shells. But she possessed a charmed life, and reluctantly

retired at 8.15.

[Illustration: THE BOMBARDMENT OF SAN JUAN, PORTO RICO.]

_May 13._ In the Spanish Cortes, Señor Molinas, deputy for Porto Rico,

protested against the bombardment of San Juan without notice, as an

infringement of international usage.

To this General Correa, Minister of War, replied that the conduct of the

Americans was “vandalism,” and that the government “will bring their

outrageous action under the notice of the powers.” He echoed Señor

Molinas’s eulogy of the bravery of the Spanish troops and marines, and

promised that the government would send its thanks.

An authority on international law thus comments upon the bombardment, in

the columns of the New York _Sun_:

“There is nothing in the laws of war which requires notice of bombardment

to be given to a fortified place, during the progress of war. When the

Germans threatened to bombard Port au Prince, a few months ago, they gave

a notice of a few hours, but in that case no state of war existed. Again,

when Spain bombarded Valparaiso, in 1865, an hour’s interval was allowed

between the blank charge that gave the notice, and the actual bombardment.

But that interval was intended to allow Chili an opportunity to do the

specific thing demanded, namely, to salute the Spanish flag, in atonement

for a grievance. Besides, Valparaiso was wholly unfortified, and the guns

were directed, not at military works, but at public buildings.

“The case of San Juan was far different. Hostilities had been going on in

Gulf waters for weeks, while, as Doctor Snow, the well-known authority on

international law, says, ‘In case of war, the very fact of a place being

fortified is evidence that at any time it is liable to attack, and the

non-combatants residing within its limits must be prepared for a

contingency of this kind.’ This is true, also, of the investment of

fortified places by armies, where ‘if the assault is made, no notice is

given, as surprise is essential to success.’ In the same spirit Halleck

says that ‘every besieged place is for a time a military garrison; its

inhabitants are converted into soldiers by the necessities of

self-defence.’

“Turning to the official report of Admiral Sampson, we find him saying

that, as soon as it was light enough, he began ‘an attack upon the

batteries defending the city. This attack lasted about three hours, and

resulted in much damage to the batteries, and incidentally to a portion of

the city adjacent to the batteries.’ It is, therefore, clear that this

latter damage was simply the result of the proximity of the defensive

works to some of the dwellings. The same thing would occur in bombarding

Havana. Can any one imagine that the Spaniards, if they suddenly appeared

in New York Bay, would be obliged to give notice before opening fire on

Fort Hamilton and Fort Wadsworth, for the reason that adjacent settlements

would suffer from the fire? The advantage of suddenness in the attack upon

a place, not only fortified, but forewarned by current events, cannot be

renounced. Civilians dwelling near defensive works know what they risk in

war.

“In the Franco-German war of 1870 there were repeated instances, according

to the authority already quoted, of deliberately firing on inhabited towns

instead of on their fortifications, and ‘there were cases, like that of

Peronne, where the town was partially destroyed while the ramparts were

nearly intact.’ The ground taken was that which a military writer, General

Le Blois, had advocated five years before, namely, that the pressure for

surrender exercised by the people becomes greater on subjecting them to

the loss of life and property. ‘The governor is made responsible for all

the disasters that occur; the people rise against him, and his own troops

seek to compel him to an immediate capitulation.’ At San Juan there was no

attempt of this sort, the fire being concentrated upon the batteries, with

the single view of destroying them. The likelihood that adjacent buildings

and streets would suffer did not require previous notice of the

bombardment, and, in fact, when the Germans opened fire on Paris without

notification, and a protest was made on behalf of neutrals, Bismarck

simply replied that no such notification was required by the laws of war.”

The Boys of '98 · 第 6 / 11 章