THE FLOWER OF THE HACIENDA
Two days after the memorable attack on San Juan the American cause
seemed in as hopeless a condition as possible. From El Caney to the
coast the troops held a long line of trenches and faced a series of
works, all of which were manned by determined, though half-starved,
Spaniards. To the north and west Santiago was free and open to the
enemy, while, where the invading forces besieged it, their line was so
thin as to be practically useless. To attempt now to press an attack
home to the walls of Santiago would be to court disaster, for large
re-enforcements were needed for such an action; while, if the Americans
could but hold the line that they had won, they would be doing well.
The shortcomings of an army raised in haste were beginning to show.
Rations from the first had been poor, and as a natural consequence men
fell ill under the hardship and exposure. To these hundreds of wounded
were already added, and to attend to them all there was a medical staff
that was hopelessly insufficient. No provision, in fact, worthy of the
name had been made. No stretcher-bearer corps had been organized, and
when the wounded came crowding in, even drugs and dressings were found
to be lacking. Could anything be more discouraging? No wonder that
General Shafter thought the situation serious. No wonder that he
telegraphed urgently for re-enforcements.
And now the strangest and most unexpected move in the campaign occurred,
and altered the prospect of the war. To describe it fully, one must once
more turn to Hal and Gerald, for this lucky pair had a splendid
opportunity of observing everything. Both had taken part in the attack
upon San Juan, and both had been wounded--Hal through the fleshy part of
the thigh, and Gerald in the hand. Some hours passed before either went
to obtain the services of the surgeon.
"This is rather late, young fellow," the latter said to Hal, as he
rolled up his trousers and showed the wound. "I suppose you couldn't get
here before?"
"Yes, we could have come earlier," Hal answered; "but you were busy, and
neither of us was badly hit. But I'd be glad if you'd look at my wound
now. It's painful and I feel feverish."
"Which is exactly what I was thinking. Put that under your tongue, and
we'll see what the temperature is."
An examination of the thermometer showed that Hal's temperature was
high, and a searching inspection of the wound revealed that it was
inflamed.
"You are both feverish and out of sorts," said the surgeon, as he
dressed Hal's leg. "Both with flesh wounds, which will get worse if
something isn't done. I'll send you to the coast for a day or two. A
blow aboard ship will set you up again."
Neither Hal nor Gerald objected, for it was already known that no active
engagements would take place till re-enforcements arrived, so that if
they went to sea for a day or two, they would lose none of the fun. They
trudged to Siboney, therefore, and that evening were resting on board
the gunboat _Gloucester_, a converted yacht, which happened to be lying
close in beside the town when they arrived.
Many and eager were the questions put to them by the men and officers
aboard, and Hal and Gerald were treated like heroes.
"Tell yer what, young fellers," said one of the men, "you boys ashore
aer havin' all the fun. Why, I'd pitch all these fine rations and easy
times ter Jingo, if I could slip ashore and see a trifle of the
fightin'. They say that San Juan wur hot. Away out at sea we could see
the Spanish shells burstin' like fireworks."
"Don't yer grumble, Jimmy," another broke in reprovingly. "Up to a week
or more back, we sailors wur exceptional busy. P'raps we'll get a go in
again. Thur aint never no tellin'."
How near he was to being a true prophet this sailor had no notion, nor
anyone else in the American fleet. And yet, on that very evening,
Admiral Cervera's fleet lay in the harbor of Santiago, with steam up,
ready to slip cables and run from the harbor. But for what reason? Were
not the Americans doing their utmost to capture the Spanish fleet? Then
why play into their hands, and rush from security to destruction?
The question will probably never be satisfactorily answered. It is said
that direct orders were received from Madrid; but in any case, on Sunday
morning, the 3d of July, the whole of the Spanish fleet was observed
steaming out from the harbor in bright sunlight. Instantly, every man on
board the American ships was wide awake.
"Hillo! What is happening?" an officer on board the _Gloucester_
shouted, as a puff of smoke darted from the flagship. "A gun, by Jingo!
That's from the _Brooklyn_, the flagship while Admiral Sampson is away.
Tumble up there, boys! There's fun commencing."
The bell to the engine-room at once sounded, and the _Gloucester_ began
to run towards the entrance of Santiago. Hal and Gerald immediately
forgot their wounds, and hastened to help the men serving the
quick-firers.
"Steady there, all!" cried the commander of the _Gloucester_. "Our guns
are no good against battleships. Well wait for the gunboats. Evidently
the whole fleet is coming out."
Led by the _Infanta Maria Teresa_, with Admiral Cervera aboard, a line
of Spanish ships sailed from Santiago harbor, and, turning west, steamed
off in single file. In all there were six, the two last being gunboats.
"Those are our mark," cried the commander, pointing to the latter.
"We'll get after them at top-speed. Boys, you can commence with the
guns."
Rushing forward at seventeen knots, the _Gloucester_ began to fire her
weapons, and soon shells were singing about the decks of the _Pluton_
and the _Furor_, the two Spanish gunboats. Then a lucky missile crashed
into the engine-room of the latter, and in a moment she was a wreck, and
rapidly sinking.
"Now for the other," shouted the commander. "Give it her all you know,
boys!"
The men responded with a will, and with such success that the _Pluton_
was soon in a sinking condition, and to save her crew was run upon the
rocks.
"Now we will see what else can be done," the commander of the
_Gloucester_ cried. "Keep her straight along the coast, quartermaster.
Perhaps we shall be able to pick up some prisoners. Hillo! Our boys are
givin' it to the Dons."
Admiral Schley's fleet was, indeed, handling the Spanish ships severely.
Steaming straight in for Santiago, the Americans had put their helms to
port as soon as they were well within range. Then their guns began to
roar, and soon they were obscured in big clouds of smoke. Running west
along the coast-line of Cuba, the _Infanta Maria Teresa_ and her
consorts returned the fire as vigorously as their poor armaments would
allow, and all the time rushed ahead at their fastest pace, hoping to
escape.
"They'll do it," shouted Gerald, excitedly. "They've the lead, and will
get dead away."
"Not a bit of it," Hal answered quietly. "We have some fast ships out
there, and the _New York_ is patrolling the coast higher up. Admiral
Cervera's fleet is doomed."
"It aer that," one of the sailors standing near by burst in. "Them 'ere
ships won't run much more'n an hour. Look at 'em now, and the way the
shells aer strikin'."
With eyes glued to glasses, or with hands held above the brows to keep
away the glare of the sun, every officer and man on the deck of the
_Gloucester_ followed the course of the naval battle with breathless
interest.
The leading Spanish vessel, the _Maria Teresa_, was by now nearly six
miles from Santiago, but she stood not a ghost of a chance. Every
available gun was turned upon her, and she was struck by no fewer than
twenty-nine shells. The number of hits was actually small in comparison
with the guns employed; but they were crushing blows. Two enormous
twelve-inch shells crashed into her stern, shattering everything in
their course towards the bows. Eight-inch, five-inch, and six-pounders
exploded in every part, killing numbers of the unfortunate sailors. But
even now she was steaming as steadily as ever, and was pluckily
replying; for her armor casing had protected her water-line and her most
vulnerable part, the engines. However, she was not to escape, for the
woodwork caught fire, and as there was a great deal of it, and as the
water main had been cut by the shells, she was soon a blazing mass,
drifting hopelessly and helplessly towards the land.
"There's work for us there, boys," cried the commander. "Those poor
fellows are roasting, so let us do what we can for them. Mr. Morton,
tell off a party to land in the cutter. Some of the Dons may swim
ashore, and I can see a crowd of those sneakin' Cubans there. Just pitch
into them if there's trouble."
"Aye, aye, sir," was the hearty response. "You boys from the for'ard gun
'll come with me."
"I'd like to be one of the party, too, sir," said Hal, stepping forward.
"And I also," Gerald chimed in.
"What! you two wounded troopers? What would be the use?"
"Wounded! I'd forgotten all about it," cried Hal.
"So you had, and I believe you," the officer answered. "You've both been
working with our boys like bricks. You can take it that you are to
come."
Highly delighted at the prospect, Hal and Gerald quickly provided
themselves with cutlasses. Meanwhile, the _Gloucester_ had been steaming
at half speed towards the unfortunate _Maria Teresa_. Already the
Spaniard was close in shore, but the gunboat drew very little water.
Steaming alongside the blazing war vessel, she lowered a boat and sent a
party aboard, while another went ashore. On the beach a number of ragged
Cubans were standing, and as the exhausted Spanish sailors swam to the
land, they fired at them or threw them back into the waves. Dashing
through the surf, the American sailors swept the insurgents on one side.
"Back, yer black-skinned murderers!" cried one of the men, rushing at a
Cuban who was in the very act of dashing a poor Spaniard's brains out.
Then his fist shot out in truly British fashion, and next moment the
native went crashing to the ground. "Thur; lie still, yer sweep," he
exclaimed, standing over the man. "If yer just so much as lift yer
skinny finger, I'll smash you."
He looked it, too, every bit of it, and the Cuban cowered, not even
daring to move.
"Some of you lads just look to these blackguards," cried the officer.
"If they try any of their games, cut them to the chin with your
cutlasses. The others can bear a hand with these poor fellows."
But there was little fear that the Cubans would attempt more violence,
for when blows were threatened all their courage oozed through their
fingers. They drew back from the beach and sat down, glowering at the
men who had come to the island to bring them freedom. As for the Spanish
sailors, they were taken on board the _Gloucester_, Cervera and his son
being amongst the number. As the former stepped on board, Commander
Wainwright advanced with outstretched hand.
"I congratulate you, sir," he said heartily, "on having made as gallant
a fight as was ever witnessed on the sea."
Meanwhile, the work of rescue from the _Maria Teresa_ went on. Flaring
from end to end, and with deck and side plates white hot from the
furnace raging within her, she slowly drifted nearer the coast, her guns
exploding as the flames reached them, and her ammunition bursting with
deafening reports. But the undaunted Americans stuck to her, and would
not quit till every Spanish sailor needing help was over the side. A
quarter of an hour later the _Almirante Oquendo_, which had also taken
fire and was sorely battered by shells, ran ashore a little farther up
the coast.
"There are more to rescue there, boys," cried the commander of the
_Gloucester_; and at once the gunboat steamed towards the burning wreck.
Then again the same gallant and successful attempt at rescue was made;
but barely in time, for suddenly the flames reached the magazine, and
the _Almirante Oquendo_ blew up with a deafening roar.
Quick to follow her fate, the _Viscaya_ also drove ashore, and became a
total wreck. The _Cristobal Colon_ was the last of Cervera's fleet, and
by now she, too, was in sorry plight. Escape, which had seemed possible
to her, was now out of the question, for the fast ships, the _Texas_ and
the _New York_, were rapidly overhauling her. Shells began to hurtle
above her decks and crash through her plates; and, finally, seeing the
hopelessness of the struggle, her commander struck his flag. But the
_Cristobal Colon_ was no prize for America, for already she showed a
list, and scarcely had all the prisoners been removed when she filled
and sank, this being due, it is asserted, to the action of one of her
crew, who opened the sea-cocks.
One fine scene there was as this magnificent vessel surrendered, and it
deserves to be recorded. The commander of the _Texas_ stood on his
bridge, and silenced the cheers of his men. Then, lifting his hat
reverently from his head, he called upon each and everyone to give
thanks to God for this victory, and for his own safety through the
fight.
Hal and Gerald did yeoman service on this memorable day, and it was not
till every Spanish sailor who could be rescued was aboard the
_Gloucester_ that they thought of themselves. Then, indeed, they
discovered that they were worn out, and that their wounds were unusually
painful. But a long sleep did all that was necessary, and fresh air
being added to it, they soon began to mend. A week later they were once
more with their comrades, the Rough Riders.
"Back again, and seen the last of Cervera's fleet," said Harman, in
tones which showed that he was not exactly pleased. "I never did drop
upon such pards as you. Talk about fire-eaters! Why, I believe this
feller, Marchant, has smelt Spanish powder ever since the war started.
You're meant for something bad, that's all I can surmise. A chap that
goes all through this war, and only gets in the way of a single pip, aer
got somethin' coming."
He nodded his head significantly at the lads, and grinned.
"Wall, I'm kind er jealous, I own," he proceeded. "Here aer we,
a-kicking our heels in the trenches, and you chaps enjoyin' yourselves.
And the grub! My! I've had my teeth through some mighty queer stuff, but
some of the salt pork doled out ter us 'd make a nigger squint! It aer
that tough that the only comfort aer ter work it into sausages. But it
aint going to last for long, for this here row has got the heart knocked
out of it. There's been a palaver, and now there's an armistice, while
the bosses discuss terms. Santiago aer done fur, and if you take it true
from me, so aer the war. The Dons aer fairly pulled ter pieces, and aer
durned sorry fur theirselves."
That this was the case was self-evident, and the capitulation of
Santiago came as no surprise. On Saturday, the 16th of July, the deed of
surrender was signed, and, led by General Shatter and his staff, the
American troops took possession of the town, which was filled with
starving soldiers and civilians.
Courteous and truly honorable were the Spanish officers, and, looking at
their pallid faces and wan cheeks, the boys from the States realized
that these were foes indeed, and men of whom any army could be proud,
and whom any nation might hold in high respect.
That same day Hal and Gerald heard news which upset them considerably,
for, just as evening was drawing in, Jake, the faithful negro who had
previously warned them, came into the camp, and fell exhausted at their
feet.
"Quick, boss!" he whispered. "Dat bad man come again. De missie and de
master fighting for deir lives."
"Where? At Eldorado?" cried Hal, his heart palpitating with fear at the
ominous words. "Here, some water, Gerald. Pour some down the poor
fellow's throat. That will pull him round, and help him to get his wind
again."
Gerald swung his bottle to the front, and rapidly unscrewed the cork.
Then he poured some of the contents down Jake's throat.
"Ise better now," said the negro, in stronger tones. "But don't wait,
boss. Jake look to himself. Ride quick for de hacienda, for dat bad man
come dere two, t'ree hour ago, and rush at it wid his men."
"Then there must be no delay," cried Hal, rising suddenly to his feet
with a stern look upon his face. "Two or three hours ago! That time has
passed since José and his ruffians attacked Eldorado! Quick! There is
not a moment to be lost, and every second is of consequence. Here,
Gerald, you see to Jake's wants, and get the poor beggar on his pins
again, while I go across to our friend the staff officer and ask him to
do something for us."
He turned on his heel at once, and hurried towards a stone-built house,
above which floated the directing flag, and above that again the
star-spangled banner. A moment later he was face to face with one of the
regulars who was stationed outside, and on mentioning his business, was
immediately ushered into an office where, seated at a table, was the
staff officer who had befriended him before.
"Well," said the latter pleasantly, "had your fill of it already, and
come to cry off now that the fun's gone down?"
"No, not that, sir," Hal answered promptly, and in a voice which was
somewhat agitated in spite of himself. "You've been so kind before,
that I have come to ask another favor. The truth is that I am in serious
trouble. Will you--can you help me, sir?"
The officer, who was arranging some papers on the table, swung round and
looked at him curiously.
"Phew! trouble!" he exclaimed, giving vent to a shrill whistle. "It's
bad, I reckon, for the lad who slips ashore on the _Merrimac_, and risks
his skin at the game, is not the one to be easily put out. What is its
nature?"
Hal was not the lad to talk, especially when deeds were wanted and time
was of the utmost importance, so on this occasion he contrived to
explain the situation in a few short sentences.
"I am to understand, then, Mr.--er--I don't remember your name--that
you've friends close at hand, who are bein' worried by a scoundrel,"
said the officer. "And since you've mentioned it so particularly, I take
it that the girl has got something to do with the flurry into which
you've worked yourself. Now, what is in the wind? What are you asking
for?"
"Give me thirty mounted men at once," Hal blurted out. "I promise to
return with them as soon as possible."
"With what's left, you mean! Thirty mounted men! Well, I don't know that
I couldn't oblige you."
He looked out of the window, and cogitated deeply for a few moments.
"Yes," he exclaimed, as if he had suddenly made up his mind. "Look here;
take this order and go quickly."
He hastily jotted down a few words to the officer commanding one of the
very few troops of cavalry whose horses had disembarked on Cuban soil,
and, having sealed it, handed it to Hal.
"There, go! Get away as quickly as you can," he cried, "and the very
best of luck, for you deserve it."
Waiting only to blurt out his thanks, Hal tore away, and soon presented
his message. Half an hour later a small company of horse cantered out of
camp, and took the road to Eldorado. In front and leading them rode a
sergeant, sitting his horse with the grace and easy swing of a practiced
cowboy, and on either side of him were Hal and Gerald. Two hours later
they were within a mile of the hacienda, and called a halt for a rest.
"There aint no firing now," said the sergeant, going into a clearing to
listen. "No, there aint so much as a sound, so you can take it that they
aer alive and kicking. If these critturs we aer after had rushed the
show, there'd be sparks flying into the darkness by now, I guess, and
they'd be cooking their dinners over the flames. You can put it down
that things has quieted down for the night; but the row'll fizzle up
again in the mornin'."
"Then do you suggest that we shall remain here?" asked Hal, who was
impatient to get on, and full of forebodings for the safety of his
friends. "Supposing that brute attacks during the early hours, he'd----"
"That aer jist about his game," the American answered coolly, "and it'll
be for us to put a stopper on it. Say, you, sir, take it easy, and have
a blower here for half an hour or more. Then we'll walk on, and when
we're pretty close, we'll leave the horses, and skirmish up among the
trees. Bet yer bottom dollar we'll soon see how the worry lies."
Accordingly, after resting themselves and their horses, the troop set
forward again, dismounting and leaving the animals in charge of one of
the men when some three hundred yards from the hacienda. Then Hal and
the sergeant crept to the edge of the clearing.
"There's a fire burnin' away yonder," said the latter, pointing across
to the opposite side. "Reckon them skunks aer campin'."
"There are some stone buildings on that side of the clearing," Hal
explained. "I expect José and his gang have taken shelter in them."
"That's the ticket, and they're as safe behind the walls as it aer
possible ter be. But we'll turn 'em out, see if we don't. Say, will yer
lead some of the boys over yonder, so as ter cut in behind them
critters? If so, you'd better move off at once. When the light gets
brighter, keep yer eyes wide open, and let 'em have it full blaze. Mind
yer fire to the right, or else it'll be a case with us."
Hal readily agreed, and hurriedly returned to the troopers. Then he and
Gerald, accompanied by ten men, crept round the edge of the clearing to
the farther side, and sat down to wait. At dawn some sharp reports rang
out from the stone buildings, and answering flashes could be seen
spurting from the sand-bag fort on the roof of the hacienda.
And now Hal's work began. Creeping through the plantations, he at length
reached a spot from which it was possible to see the men who were firing
at Eldorado. There were thirty or more, led by a man dressed in draggled
white, whom he easily recognized as José d'Arousta.
"We'll give them a volley," he said, turning to his comrades. "Then
we'll get at them full tilt. Fix bayonets, boys!"
Not a word was said in answer, but there was the ominous click of steel
against steel. A moment or two later a volley was fired into the midst
of the Spanish guerrillas.
"At them, boys!" cried Hal, springing to his feet. "Charge!"
At his shout the troopers dashed forward, and the greater part of the
enemy at once bolted. Some, however, were too astonished to move, and
fell at the point of the bayonet. As for José d'Arousta, he died as he
had lived, a hard and cruel man, but one gifted with extraordinary
tenacity and courage. Dodging a bayonet thrust with the rapidity of
lightning, he sprang back a pace or two, and, drawing a revolver, fired
point-blank at the trooper who was charging by Gerald's side.
"Take that, yer durned son of a Don!" cried the man, thrusting fiercely
at him again. "Ha! tit for tat, my sonnie!"
The bayonet caught José full on the chest, and, thrusting right through
him, pinned him to the wall. A deathly pallor at once spread over his
face, his mouth gaped, and the revolver almost slipped from his
nerveless fingers. But the manhood in him forced itself to the surface,
and he lifted his head to glare at his enemies. Then an oath escaped his
lips as his glazing eyes fell upon Hal, and with a last effort he lifted
the weapon and fired.
* * * * *
Hal took no part in the further stages of the war. Indeed, there was
little else to happen, for the fall of Santiago had been the beginning
of the end. The American fleet being freed by the destruction of
Cervera's fleet, the Government at Washington threatened to send some
battleships to bombard the coast towns of Spain, and in the meanwhile
dispatched an expedition to Puerto Rico. Menaced by a revolution at
home, the Madrid Government finally gave way, and, on the 12th of
August, peace was patched up between Spain and America, the former
relinquishing her possessions in the Caribbean Sea.
It came just in time to stop the campaign in Puerto Rico, where some
brisk engagements had taken place; but the news arrived too late, alas!
to save the many poor lads who had come from the States to fight for
their country, and who lay dying of fever near Santiago.
Of the Philippines there is little to tell. Manila was captured on the
13th of August, and with it went Spanish rule. But not so the islands,
for, led by a native called Aguinaldo, the inhabitants, who had
previously rebelled against their old masters, now objected to the new,
and chose to fight for their freedom. Thus for many a long day the
Philippines remained in insurrection.
And now to close this story. Struck in the ribs by José d'Arousta's
bullet, it was weeks before Hal was up and about; and he undoubtedly
owed his recovery to Dora's devoted nursing. No wonder that when at last
he tottered on to the veranda, he turned to her with a flush of pride,
and drew her arm beneath his own, saying to Mr. Brindle:
"Dora has promised to be my wife some day, and to that I know you will
agree, for you have practically told me so. Congratulate me, for I am a
lucky young fellow. I left England friendless, I came to this beautiful
island as a stranger, and I have won the flower of the hacienda."
"You have, my lad!" exclaimed Mr. Brindle, advancing with outstretched
hand. "Fortune, they say, favors the brave, and yours is well deserved,
for you have fought manfully UNDER THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER."
THE END
End of Project Gutenberg's Under the Star-Spangled Banner, by F. S. Brereton