New York, November 26, 1898.
* The Lotos Club did honor to Rear Admiral Winfield Scott
Schley, and incidentally, to the United States, at its
clubhouse in Fifth Avenue last night. All day long the
square, blue pennant, blazoned with the two stars of a Rear
Admiral, snapped in the wind, signifying to all who saw it
that the Lotos Clubhouse was for the time being the flagship
of the erstwhile Flying Squadron.
Within the home of the club were gathered men who like the
guest of the evening were prominent in the war with Spain,
The navy was represented by Capt. Charles D. Sigs-Dee, Capt.
A. T. Mahan and Captain Goodrich. From the army there was
Brig. Gen. W F. Randolph, and from civil life many men
prominent in the business, professional and social life of
the city. The one impulse that led these men to brave the
storm was their desire to pay their respects to one of the
men who had done so much to win laurels for the American
arms.
The parlors and dining rooms of the clubhouse wore thrown
into one in order to accommodate the three hundred men
present fit the dinner. Smilax covered the walls, save hero
and there where the American flag was draped in graceful
folds. From the archway under which the table of honor was
spread, hung a large National ensign and a Rear Admiral's
pennant.
The menu was unique. Etched on a cream-tinted paper appeared
an open nook, and on the tops of the pages was inscribed,
"Logge of the Goode Ship Lotos." "Dinner to Rear Admiral
Winfield Scott Schley, given in the cabin of ye Shippe, Nov.
26, l898, Lat. 40 degrees 42 minutes 43 seconds north;
longitude, 74 degrees 3 seconds west."
On each side of the menu was stretched a string of signal
flags, giving the orders made famous by Admiral Schley in
the naval engagement of July 3, 1898. On the second page of
the menu was a fine etching of the Brooklyn, Admiral
Schley's flagship. The souvenir menu was inclosed in blue
paper, upon which were two white stars, the whole
representing Rear Admiral Schley's pennant.
MR.PRESIDENT, Gentlemen of the Club--Boys: I congratulate all of you and
I congratulate myself, and I will tell you why. In the first place, we
were well born, and we were all born rich, all of us. We belong to a
great race. That is something; that is having a start, to feel that in
your veins flows heroic blood, blood that has accomplished great things
and has planted the flag of victory on the field of war. It is a great
thing to belong to a great race.
I congratulate you and myself on another thing; we were born in a great
nation, and you can't be much of a man without having a nation behind
you, with you; Just think about it! What would Shakespeare have been, if
he had been born in Labrador? I used to know an old lawyer in southern
Illinois, a smart old chap, who mourned his unfortunate surroundings.
He lived in Pinkneyville, and occasionally drank a little too freely of
Illinois wine; and when in his cups he sometimes grew philosophic and
egotistic. He said one day, "Boys, I have got more brains than you have,
I have, but I have never had a chance. I want you just to think of
it. What would Daniel Webster have been, by God, if he had settled in
Pinkneyville?"
So I congratulate you all that you were born in a great nation,
born rich; and why do I say rich? Because you fell heir to a great,
expressive, flexible language; that is one thing. What could a man do
who speaks a poor language, a language of a few words that you could
almost count on your fingers? What could he do? You were born heirs to
a great literature, the greatest in the world--in all the world. All the
literature of Greece and Rome would not make one act of "Hamlet." All
the literature of the ancient world added to all of the modern world,
except England, would not equal the literature that we have. We were
born to it, heirs to that vast intellectual possession.
So I say you were all born rich, all. And then you were very fortunate
in being born in this country, where people have some rights, not as
many as they should have, not as many as they would have if it were not
for the preachers, may be, but where we have some; and no man yet was
ever great unless a great drama was being played on some great stage and
he got a part. Nature deals you a hand, and all she asks is for you to
have the sense to play it. If no hand is dealt to you, you win no money.
You must have the opportunity, must be on the stage, and some great
drama must be there. Take it in our own country. The Revolutionary
war was a drama, and a few great actors appeared; the War of 1812 was
another, and a few appeared; the Civil war another. Where would have
been the heroes whose brows we have crowned with laurel had there been
no Civil war? What would have become of Lincoln, a lawyer in a country
town? What would have become of Grant? He would have been covered with
the mantle of absolute obscurity, tucked in at all the edges, his name
never heard of by any human being not related to him.
Now, you have got to have the chance, and you cannot create it. I heard
a gentleman say here a few minutes ago that this war could have been
averted. That is not true. I am not doubting his veracity, but rather
his philosophy. Nothing ever happened beneath the dome of heaven that
could have been avoided. Everything that is possible happens. That may
not suit all the creeds, but it is true. And everything that is possible
will continue to happen. The war could not have been averted, and the
thing that makes me glad and proud is that it was not averted. I will
tell you why.
It was the first war in the history of this world that was waged
unselfishly for the good of others; the first war. Almost anybody will
fight for himself; a great many people will fight for their country,
their fellow-men, their fellow-citizens; but it requires something
besides courage to fight for the rights of aliens; it requires not only
courage, but principle and the highest morality. This war was waged to
compel Spain to take her bloody hands from the throat of Cuba. That
is exactly what it was waged for. Another great drama was put upon
the boards, another play was advertised, and the actors had their
opportunity. Had there been no such war, many of the actors would never
have been heard of.
But the thing is to take advantage of the occasion when it arrives. In
this war we added to the greatness and the glory of our history. That is
another thing that we all fell heirs to--the history of our people, the
history of our Nation. We fell heirs to all the great and grand things
that had been accomplished, to all the great deeds, to the splendid
achievements either in the realm of mind or on the field of battle.
Then there was another great drama. The first thing we knew, a man in
the far Pacific, a gentleman from Vermont, sailed one May morning into
the bay of Manila, and the next news was that the Spanish fleet had been
beached, burned, destroyed, and nothing had happened to him. I have read
a little history, not much, and a good deal that I have read was not
true. I have read something about our own navy, not much. I recollect
when I was a boy my hero was John Paul Jones; he covered the ocean; and
afterward I knew of Hull and Perry and Decatur and Bainbridge and a good
many others that I don't remember now. And then came the Civil war, and
I remember a little about Farragut, a great Admiral, as great as ever
trod a deck, in my judgment. And I have also read about other admirals
and sailors of the world. I knew something of Drake and I have read the
"Life of Nelson" and several other sea dogs; but when I got the news
from Manila I said, "There is the most wonderful victory ever won upon
the sea;" and I did not think it would ever be paralleled. I thought
such things come one in a box. But a little while afterward another of
Spain's fleets was heard from. Oh, those Spaniards! They have got the
courage of passion, but that is not the highest courage. They have got
plenty of that; but it is necessary to be coolly courageous, and to have
the brain working with the accuracy of an engine--courageous, I don't
care how mad you get, but there must not be a cloud in the heaven of
your judgment. That is Anglo-Saxon courage, and there is no higher type.
The Spaniards sprinkled the holy water on their guns, then banged away
and left it to the Holy Ghost to direct the rest.
Another fleet, at Santiago, ventured out one day, and another great
victory was won by the American Navy. I don't know which victory was
the more wonderful, that at Manila Bay or that at Santiago. The Spanish
ships were, some of them, of the best class and type, and had fine guns,
yet in a few moments they were wrecks on the shore of defeat, gone,
lost.
Now, when I used to read about these things in the olden times, what
ideas I had of the hero! I never expected to see one; and yet to-night I
have the happiness of dining with one, with one whose name is associated
with as great a victory, in my judgment, as was ever won; a victory that
required courage, intelligence, that power of will that holds itself
firm until the thing sought has been accomplished; and that has my
greatest admiration. I thank Admiral Schley for having enriched my
country, for having added a little to my own height, to my own pride, so
that I utter the word America with a little more unction than I ever
did before, and the old flag looks a little brighter, better, and has
an added glory. When I see it now, it looks as if the air had burst into
blossom, and it stands for all that he has accomplished.
Admiral Schley has added not only to our wealth, but to the wealth of
the children yet unborn that are going to come into the great heritage
not only of wealth, but of the highest possible riches, glory, honor,
achievement. That is the reason I congratulate you to-night. And I
congratulate you on another thing, that this country has entered upon
the great highway, I believe, of progress. I believe that the great
nation has the sentiment, the feeling of growth. The successful farmer
wants to buy the land adjoining him; the great nation loves to see its
territory increase. And what has been our history? Why, when we bought
Louisiana from Napoleon, in 1803, thousands of people were opposed to
"imperialism," to expansion; the poor old moss-backs were opposed to it.
When we bought Florida, it was the same. When we took the vast West from
Mexico in 1848 it was the same. When we took Alaska it was the same.
Now, is anybody in favor of modifying that sentiment?
We have annexed Hawaii, and we have got the biggest volcano in the
business. A man I know visited that volcano some years ago and came back
and told me about his visit. He said that at the little hotel they had
a guest-book in which the people wrote their feelings on seeing the
volcano in action. "Now," he said, "I will tell you this so that you
may know how you are spreading out yourself. One man had written in
that book, 'if Bob Ingersoll were here, I think he would change his mind
about hell.'"
I want that volcano. I want the Philippines. It would be simply infamous
to hand those people back to the brutality of Spain. Spain has been
Christianizing them for about four hundred years. The first thing the
poor devils did was to sign a petition asking for the expulsion of the
priests. That was their idea of the commencement of liberty. They are
not quite so savage as some people imagine. I want those islands; I want
all of them, and I don't know that I disagree with the Rev. Mr. Slicer
as to the use we can put them to. I don't know that they will be of any
use, but I want them; they might come handy. And I wanted to pick up
the small change, the Ladrones and the Carolines. I am glad we have got
Porto Rico. I don't know as it will be of any use, but there's no harm
in having the title. I want Cuba whenever Cuba wants us, and I favor
the idea of getting her in the notion of wanting us. I want it in the
interest, as I believe, of humanity, of progress; in other words, of
human liberty. That is what the war was waged for, and the fact that it
was waged for that, gives an additional glory to these naval officers
and to the officers in the army. They fought in the first righteous war;
I mean righteous in the sense that we fought for the liberty of others.
Now, gentlemen, I feel that we have all honored ourselves to-night by
honoring Rear Admiral Schley. I want you to know that long after we
are dead and long after the Admiral has ceased to sail, he will be
remembered, and in the constellation of glory one of the brightest stars
will stand for the name of Winfield Scott Schley, as brave an officer as
ever sailed a ship. I am glad I am here to-night, and again, gentlemen,
I congratulate you all upon being here. I congratulate you that you
belong to this race, to this nation, and that you are equal heirs in the
glory of the great Republic.