THE BLOCKADE.
I have already told you that the Cubans, in their rebellion, had
driven the Spaniards out of many places in Cuba, but had not been able
to get possession of the chief harbors. So now it was thought best
that our ships should blockade the large harbors of Cuba. Do you know
what blockade means? It means to surround a place held by the enemy,
and stay there, doing any damage that can be done, cutting the enemy
off from outside help, and so, in time, if he is not strong enough to
break the blockade, he must surrender, as his supply of food will give
out.
[Illustration: Rear-Admiral Sampson.]
On the morning of April 22d, a squadron under the command of Acting
Rear-Admiral Sampson sailed from Key West to establish a blockade of
the most important Cuban ports. The ships which were to be stationed
off Havana reached that port on the same day; others were sent to
different ports along the coast, and so the blockade was begun.
All kinds of vessels were employed in this blockading service. There
were huge battleships, splendid cruisers, and gunboats that could go
into shallower waters than the large ships. There were also
monitors--immense fighting machines with decks but a little height
above the water and big guns in circular turrets. Then there were
torpedo boats--very swift vessels armed with deadly torpedoes, any one
of which could sink the largest ship afloat.
Some of our large passenger steamships had been appropriated by the
Government for war service, and did good work for the blockade, as
they can move very fast. They flew about from place to place as
"scouts" or "spies"; they carried messages; they cut the Spanish
cables under water, and were useful in other ways.
The gunboat Nashville sailed from Key West with the squadron, and
before the sun had fairly risen she saw the smoke of a steamer away
off to the westward. She gave chase at once, and, as the vessels drew
near, the stranger was flying the flag of Spain. The Nashville fired a
shot across her bows, and this was the first shot in the war between
the United States and Spain. The Spaniard was not inclined to stop,
and it required another shot before she would stop her engines. The
Nashville sent an officer in a boat to inform the steamer that she was
a prize to the United States. She was found to be a Spanish
merchantman, the Buena Ventura, and was sent in charge of a prize-crew
to Key West. During the next thirty days, many other Spanish ships,
with cargoes worth millions of dollars, were captured by different
vessels of the navy. A few were released, but the larger part were
condemned by a prize-court and sold.
The first action of the war was a small affair, but I shall mention
it, as it was much talked about at the time. It took place on April
27th, a few days after our ships had begun the blockade. The Spaniards
were building new forts at Matanzas, a port about sixty miles east of
Havana. With the exception of Havana, Matanzas has the finest harbor
on the northern coast of Cuba. The city itself lies between two small
rivers and contains many beautiful homes. The houses are often
decorated with colored tiles, and with their luxuriant gardens make a
charming picture against the background of hills that rise beyond the
beautiful valley of the Yumurri, which is one of the loveliest spots
in Cuba. In times of peace the exports of sugar and molasses from
Matanzas have been very large, but the Cuban army burned many of the
finest plantations in the district.
The ships that engaged the new forts that the Spaniards were adding to
the castle of San Severino and other defences of Matanzas, were the
flagship New York, the monitor Puritan, and the cruiser Cincinnati.
The Spaniards fired the first gun, and then the New York took up a
position between two batteries and delivered broadsides right and
left. Then the Puritan's big guns came into play, and then the
Cincinnati poured a stream of shells into the forts. It did not take
long to knock the Spanish defences into sand-heaps--only about half an
hour--and then the American ships stood out to sea. As they were doing
so, the Spaniards fired one more shot. The Puritan had the range and
sent a twelve-inch shell in reply. It was one of the best shots of the
war. It struck the Spanish gun fairly, dismounted it, and then burst,
throwing the sand high in the air. The Spanish account of the
engagement stated that no damage whatever was done, except the killing
of one mule!
Great excitement and great anxiety were caused by the news that a
large and powerful fleet was coming from Spain. Our Government could
not tell whether these ships would come to a Spanish port in the West
Indies, or whether they would attack one of our large cities on the
Atlantic coast. We had not ships enough to protect all our ports as
well as to blockade Cuba, so much care was needed to make good plans,
and our naval officers were kept busy. It was most important to watch
for the Spanish ships.
[Illustration: The "Cape Verde" Fleet.]
The "Cape Verde" fleet, as the Spanish ships were called, troubled the
Navy Department of the United States day and night. They knew that it
sailed from the Cape Verde Islands in the latter part of April, but
that was about all they did know regarding it. At last it was seen off
the Island of Martinique and then it was lost again. It was next heard
from at Curacoa, an island in the Caribbean Sea, off the north coast
of Venezuela, but before the American ships could reach it, the
Spanish admiral had coaled and provisioned his ships at Willemstad,
the chief city on the island, and was off again to sea.
[Illustration: U.S. Battleship "Oregon."]
There was some reason to think that the Spanish fleet might catch our
great battleship Oregon, coming as fast as it could to the Eastern
Coast. I must take time to tell you about the Oregon. Shortly before
the war began, the Oregon was in the Pacific Ocean; but when she
received a message to come to an Atlantic port, to be ready for war
with Spain, she took coal at San Francisco and started--March 19th--on
her long voyage. She went south through the Pacific Ocean, east
through the Strait of Magellan, and then turned northward into the
Atlantic Ocean. Then the closest watch was kept for the enemy; the
guns were always ready, the lights were covered every night. Though
Captain Clark did not know that war had really begun before that time,
still he knew that there was danger. On May 24th the Oregon arrived at
a port in Florida, having come 14,000 miles, through all kinds of
weather, in two months' time, without breaking anything about the
ship. So the Spaniards did not catch the Oregon, but later in the year
she helped to catch them.
[Illustration: Captain Charles E. Clark.]
When the Oregon arrived at. Jupiter Inlet, Florida, she was as able
to fight or to run as on the day she was put into commission. When she
left San Francisco she had nine hundred tons of coal on board. During
the voyage she consumed almost four thousand tons. Callao was the
first port where the Oregon stopped. From there she ran down the
Pacific coast, and after passing through the straits sailed up the
eastern coast of South America to Rio Janeiro, where she was notified
by the American consul that the United States and Spain were really at
war. There were now two other American warships at Rio. The gunboat
Marietta had joined the Oregon near the straits, and the Buffalo,
which the United States had bought from Brazil, was waiting for them
at Rio. I will let Captain Clark tell you the story of the remainder
of the voyage, in his own way:
"Several long cablegrams were exchanged between the Government and
myself. Nothing whatever in the way of instructions was issued that
would hamper me or in any way abridge my responsibility for bringing
the Oregon home. We sailed from Rio on May 4. I decided, when we had
been at sea a little while, to leave the Buffalo and the Marietta to
shift for themselves. They were so slow that I feared the Oregon might
be late in arriving where she was most needed. I left these ships off
Cape Frio, one hundred miles above Rio, after signaling them, 'Come to
Bahia, or run ashore if attacked by overwhelming force.' I reached
Bahia on the 8th, but we were told to 'Come on.' We sailed next
morning, and this run to Barbadoes was the most thrilling of the
entire voyage. We steamed absolutely without a light.
"Indeed, the entire trip from Sandy Point to Jupiter Inlet was a
lightless voyage. In pitchlike darkness we drove along at our highest
speed--seeing lights many times, but always avoiding the ships that
bore them. We were out of court. We had no right of way without a
light. Even if we met a vessel on our port, we gave way.
"Night and day the men stood at the guns. Not for a single moment was
vigilance relaxed. The strain on the men was terrible. For four days
at a time hammocks were never strung. Watch and watch about, the men
lay beside the guns, sound asleep, while the men on duty stood
silently above them. All the lookouts were doubled and changed with
unusual frequency.
"Barbadoes was reached just before daylight, May 18, and after rushing
two hundred and fifty tons of coal aboard, we sailed the same evening.
Still the orders read, 'Come on.' From our consul I learned that
Cervera's fleet was at Martinique, just to the north of us. This fleet
had been extolled for speed and fighting qualities. I am not a rash
man. I was not looking for that fleet. The situation seemed critical.
Sailing just before dark, I headed northwest, apparently into the
heart of the Caribbean Sea. This information, I have no doubt, was
promptly communicated to Admiral Cervera. But as soon as the darkness
of a moonless night had thoroughly set in, I changed the course to due
south; and ran below Barbadoes and thence far to the eastward before
I took the Oregon to the northward. We thus passed far to sea east of
Martinique, and eventually turned into the north Atlantic beyond St.
Thomas. I carefully avoided the Windward Channel and the shallow
waters of the Bahamas.
"I didn't know where the Department wanted to use me. I was in the
dark as to the location of the two fleets. I knew one had been at
Hampton Roads and another at Key West, and the charts told me that
Jupiter Inlet was in telegraphic reach of all points on the coast.
From that place I had coal enough to make the run to either of the two
fleets."
With scarcely a day's delay, the Oregon joined the North Atlantic
Squadron, in Cuban waters, and was one of the vessels under Commodore
Schley when that officer trapped the Spanish fleet in the harbor of
Santiago.
When we think of the officers and men on the decks of a warship, we
must not forget the force of men below the decks. The engineers,
firemen and stokers do as good work, and are entitled to as much
praise, as the fighting force above. In battle they are kept under the
hatches, and, as a rule, never know of the progress or the result of a
fight until it closes. They work in a temperature of from one hundred
to one hundred and fifty degrees, by half-hour stretches. The roaring
furnaces make the fire-rooms almost beyond a man's power to endure,
and we should give a great deal of our praise to the brave fellows who
make the power that moves the ship.
[Illustration: The Men Who Make the Power.]
You know that we saw in the first chapter, that Spain owned another
large island some miles east of Cuba--an island called Porto Rico.
This island was sighted by Columbus on November 16, 1493, and, three
days later, he anchored in one of its bays. In 1510, and again a year
later, Ponce de Leon visited the island and established a settlement,
to which he gave the name of San Juan Bautista. Spain did not always
hold it peaceably, however, for at different times the Dutch and the
English tried to take it from her. The people of the island used to be
terribly annoyed by pirates and buccaneers, but that was a long time
ago.
The Spanish used to call San Juan the "Rich Port of John the Baptist,"
and it was a great source of profit to them for nearly four hundred
years. Ponce is the largest city in the island, but San Juan has the
advantage of a large, protected harbor. Like Havana and Santiago, San
Juan has its Morro Castle, and within its walls are the buildings of a
small military town,--houses for troops, a chapel, bake-house, and
guard-room, with dungeons down by the sea, and underneath it.
[Illustration: Palace and Sea-wall, San Juan, Porto Rico.]
The city of San Juan lies upon an island connected with the mainland
by a bridge and a causeway. The streets are narrow, the houses are
low, mostly of a single story, and are built in the old-fashioned
Spanish style, with thick walls around the courtyard. The fronts are
ugly and are painted all sorts of brilliant colors--pink, blue,
purple and yellow. There are heavy shutters in the windows for
protection, but there are no panes of glass in the town. Behind the
gloomy walls are splendid gardens and courtyards, with splashing
fountains, shaded by palms. The city contains a cathedral, a theatre,
a city hall, the Governor-General's palace, and several fine churches,
and in the center is quite a large park, with concrete walks and
seats, as with us. There is no turf, however. All around this park the
market women gather every morning, selling poultry, eggs, vegetables
and flowers, and in the evening there is music by a military band.
It was thought that the Spanish fleet, which had caused our Government
so much anxiety, might go to San Juan, the capital of the island, and
so, before the Oregon arrived, and before any of the Spanish ships had
been seen, Admiral Sampson took some of his vessels from Cuba to Porto
Rico in hope of meeting Admiral Cervera, the Spanish commander, and
his fleet. Our ships reached San Juan in the evening of May 11th, but
could see nothing of the Spanish ships. Next morning our ships fired
upon the forts guarding the harbor, to try the strength of the enemy.
But finding the forts stronger than he thought they were, Admiral
Sampson drew off his fleet. He could not spare the time, or spend his
powder and shells, upon San Juan then. The important thing to do was
to find the Spanish fleet. So Admiral Sampson again sailed toward
Havana.
The two ports on the northern coast of Cuba that seemed most likely to
attract the Spanish fleet were Havana and Matanzas. There was one port
on the southern coast that seemed to be a good one for the Spanish
fleet--the port of Cienfuegos. So our ships continued the blockade of
Havana and Matanzas, and now Commodore Schley was sent with several
vessels to watch Cienfuegos.
The city of Cienfuegos is situated some distance back from the sea, in
a harbor which winds and twists about between high hills, completely
obscuring it from ships a little distance from the shore. The word
Cienfuegos means "a hundred fires." Close by the water's edge there
stood a cable-house, where one end of a submarine cable, which reached
to Santiago, some three hundred miles to the eastward, was secured. On
one side of the cable-house was an old fort or lookout, such as the
Spaniards used to have all along the coast. On the other side was a
light-house. The Americans wished to destroy communication between
Cienfuegos and Santiago, so they sent an expedition to cut the cable
and destroy anything that would be of use to the Spaniards.
The ships that were sent to do this work were the Marblehead, the
Nashville and the Windom. You will remember that the Nashville fired
the first gun in the war with Spain. She is not a pretty boat at all.
She is built differently from other vessels of her class, and her two
tall funnels, or smokestacks, give her an ungainly appearance. Her
commander was a splendid officer, though, and her crew were the
bravest of the brave. I must tell you a little of her work after she
captured the first prize of the war.
One day, while in company with the Marblehead and the Eagle, she saw a
big Spanish mail steamer leave the harbor of Cienfuegos and put to
sea, followed by nine Spanish gunboats. The Nashville started in
pursuit of the big steamer, leaving the other American ships to attend
to the gunboats. She soon overhauled the steamer, which proved to be
the Argonata, and took possession of her. Her cargo was a very rich
one, and among the passengers were twenty-nine Spanish soldiers and
officers. These were taken on board the Nashville. Meanwhile, the
Marblehead and the Eagle had disposed of the gunboats. It only took
them half an hour to drive them back into the harbor, with their
smokestacks shot off, and several of them in a sinking condition. The
Nashville then turned over her prize to the Marblehead and started for
Havana.
On her way she discovered a big gunboat, and, as the two ships drew
near, the Spanish officers, who had been allowed on deck, saw that she
was not an American vessel, and danced for joy. An instant later they
were shoved down a hatchway and placed in the hold. As the stranger
came closer it was plainly seen that she was nearly twice as large as
the Nashville and more heavily armed, but the commander of the
American vessel did not hesitate an instant. He cleared his ship for
action and trained his guns on her. Just then she hoisted English
colors and dipped them in salute to the stars and stripes that were
floating above the Nashville. She proved to be the Talbot, an English
ship cruising in those waters. The whole affair was a splendid display
of courage on the part of the Nashville in clearing ship and showing
fight to the big English gunboat. Every man on the American ship knew
that if the stranger proved to be a Spanish war vessel the chances
were ten to one against the Nashville; but none of them stopped to
think of that, but made ready to fight her. Now we will return to
Cienfuegos and see how our splendid seamen cut the Spanish cables in
the very face of death.
Volunteers from the Marblehead and the Nashville manned the boats that
were sent into the shallow waters to grapple for the cable. Each ship
furnished a cutter and a launch, under the command of a lieutenant.
The men who were to do the work were in the cutters, and each of the
launches carried a small rapid-fire gun to protect the workers as much
as possible. The Nashville shelled the shore and then the boats were
ordered in. They went within one hundred yards of the shore and then
began to grapple for the cable. As calmly as though they were fishing,
the men worked with their hooks. At last the cable was caught, and
soon it was brought to view. It proved not to be the Santiago cable,
but about a hundred feet of its length were cut out of it, and the
brave fellows grappled for another. They found it, hauled it up, and,
with what tools they had, hacked it in two.
They were not unmolested, however, for Spaniards began to show
themselves on the shore, and a perfect hail of bullets dimpled the
water around the Americans as they worked. When a man in the boats was
hit, another took his place. Sturdy arms at the oars held the boats
against the strong current, while others hacked away the tough wires.
Then the guns of the ships sent an iron storm among the rocks and
trees and the soft sands. They drove the Spaniards to shelter, and
then they knocked the cable-house, the fort and the light-house to
bits. It was not intended at first to destroy the light-house, but
when it was discovered that the Spaniards used it for a shelter while
firing upon the Americans, the gunners were ordered to cut it down,
and in a short time nothing remained of it but a heap of ruins.
The personal bravery of the men in the boats was wonderful. Although
untried in warfare, they conducted themselves like veterans in the
hour of trial. Cable cutting is one of the new features of modern
warfare, but that made no difference to the brave jackies and marines
that volunteered for the work. One of their number was killed and
several were wounded, but officers and men performed their work with
the utmost coolness and bravery.
[Illustration: Cutting the Cables Under Fire.]
Before we leave the subject of cutting an enemy's cables, and thus
destroying one of their best means of communication, I will tell you
of another exploit. The St. Louis, which was one of the big ocean
steamships that the Government hired during the war, was the vessel
that performed it. A few days after the cables were cut at Cienfuegos,
the St. Louis was ordered to Santiago to cut the cables at that point.
One very dark night the boats left the big ship and began to grapple
for the cables. About three o'clock in the morning they returned with
a long piece which they had cut out of one of the cables. About eight
o'clock the St. Louis went to work to find the other cable, and after
working for three hours, the batteries on shore opened fire on her.
They kept up a furious fire for three-quarters of an hour, but the St.
Louis replied so vigorously that the batteries were silenced and the
garrisons sent running in all directions. Then they found the cable,
hauled it on board and cut it. Afterwards the St. Louis cut another
cable at San Juan, the capital of Porto Rico.
Do you wonder why these three ports were thought to be the best for
the Spanish fleet to enter? You know that Havana is the capital of
Cuba; most of the citizens were Spaniards; thousands of Spanish
soldiers were there; all the chief officers also. So it was thought
that the Spanish Navy would try to unite with the Spanish Army. From
Matanzas and from Cienfuegos the troops from the Spanish ships could
go easily by railroad to Havana, through a part of the country still
in the hands of the Spaniards. I may have told you more than you care
to hear about the coming of the enemy's fleet, but I want to give you
an idea of the great anxiety felt by our Government at this time, and
to help you to understand what follows. You must remember that we had
not vessels enough to blockade every port, so we blockaded the ports
that seemed most dangerous.
Where was the Spanish fleet all this time, while our Navy was so
troubled? If you look at a map of Cuba you will find that the eastern
end of the island--the eastern province--is called Santiago de Cuba.
The chief city of the province is on the southern coast, and bears the
same name. The city of Santiago is next in importance to Havana, and
is said to be the oldest city in the Western Hemisphere.
Santiago is a picturesque city, five miles from the coast. It was
founded by Don Diego de Velasquez, who named it for the patron saint
of Spain. Santiago, San Diego and St. Jago are really one name, which
is translated St. James in our language. The city is built along a
sloping hillside, and its massive buildings are tinted pink, blue,
green and purple. There are plenty of red-tiled roofs, among which
rise towers, steeples and palms. The houses are low and built around
courtyards, where flowers and palms grow in profusion. The floors are
of brick or marble. There is a plaza, or central square, and a great
cathedral. The streets are narrow and dirty, and in the quarters
where the poorer class live, babies and pigs roll together in the
gutters, and boys and girls without a rag of clothing on them hold out
their hands for alms.
The first impression of Santiago is one of filth and poverty,
dilapidated buildings and general decay; but if you climb the hills
that encircle the city and look over the red-topped buildings to the
glistening bay, the prospect is lovely.
As you approach the mouth of the harbor from the coast, you can at
first see nothing but a break in the hills; but soon you discover,
perhaps, the most picturesque fort in the western hemisphere. It is
the Morro Castle, one hundred years older than its namesake at Havana,
perched on a rock at the entrance to the channel. This channel is very
narrow, but it winds and twists about until it opens into a broad,
land-locked bay--the famous harbor of Santiago--with houses running
down to the water's edge.
Into this beautiful harbor, while our ships were watching other ports
and looking in other directions, Admiral Cervera and his fine Spanish
ships quietly sailed at daybreak on the 19th of May. It was a strange
port for the Spaniards to seek, and it was a fatal one.
[Illustration: Morro Castle, Santiago.]
While Sampson was looking in one direction for Admiral Cervera's
ships, Commodore Schley, with another squadron, was close upon their
track. For awhile he thought they were in Cienfuegos, but when he
found they were not there, he kept on up the coast. His flagship was
the splendid cruiser Brooklyn, and among his ships were the
Massachusetts, the Texas and the Iowa--all immense battleships. He
also had a number of smaller vessels, and the swift St. Paul, another
of the famous ships hired by the Government. The St. Paul was
commanded by Captain Sigsbee, who, you will remember, was in command
of the Maine when she was blown up in Havana harbor.
At last Commodore Schley became satisfied that the long-looked-for
fleet was in the harbor of Santiago. On the morning of May 29, Captain
Sigsbee, in the St. Paul, ran close enough to the mouth of the harbor
to see some of the Spanish ships inside, and the long game of
hide-and-seek was over. Commodore Schley at once established a strict
blockade, and then sent word to Admiral Sampson that the Spanish ships
had been found and that he had them safe. He very shrewdly said:
"We have bottled them up, and they will never get home!" A few days
later, the two squadrons were consolidated, with Commodore Schley the
second in command.
I want to tell you a little about Commodore Schley--one of the finest
officers of the navy. He graduated from the Naval Academy at
Annapolis, at the head of his class, and from that time entered upon a
career in which he served his country in nearly every quarter of the
globe. When the Civil War broke out, he staid by the old flag when
many of his brother officers went with the Confederacy, and during the
war performed many gallant and meritorious services. He had seen all
kinds of naval service, and was at home among conditions that required
dash and courage, zeal and persistency, before he was given the
command of the "Flying Squadron," and sent to find the Spanish ships.
He had done such things as to rescue seven men who were starving to
death in the Arctic regions. He had been sent by the Government to do
this, and, realizing that it must be done quickly, he pushed on so
fast that he found the seven men alive. If he had been slower in his
movements they would have been dead, for they were in the last stages
of starvation and exhaustion. At another time, some of his sailors
were stoned in the city of Valparaiso, and one of them was killed.
Schley trained his guns upon the city and kept them there until the
murderers were given up to justice. He was the right kind of a man to
have around the coasts of Cuba, wasn't he?
[Illustration: Rear-Admiral W.S. Schley.]
Now I am going to tell you the names of the Spanish vessels, and give
you an idea of the blockade.
Within the harbor were four large Spanish ships and two new, fast
torpedo-boat destroyers, all commanded by Admiral Cervera. The ships
were the Infanta Maria Teresa, named for a Spanish princess; the
Vizcaya, named for a province in Spain; the Cristóbol Colón, which is
the Spanish name for Christopher Columbus; and the Almirante Oquendo.
Many years ago Spain had a famous admiral whose name was Oquendo, and
in recognition of his services the Spanish Government made a law that
there should always be a ship in their navy bearing his name. That is
how they had the Almirante Oquendo, which means Admiral Oquendo. The
names of the torpedo-boat destroyers were the Furor and the Pluton.
All these warships were splendid vessels, and were commanded by brave
men. We shall hear about them later.
Our ships were outside the harbor--a few miles from its mouth, in a
line like a half-circle. Our big ships were the New York, the
Brooklyn, the Texas, the Iowa, the Oregon, the Indiana, and the
Massachusetts. There were a number of smaller vessels, and one of
them, the Gloucester, afterwards gained great fame. Our ships could
not anchor, as the water was too deep, so they were always moving back
and forth.
As I have told you, between the sea and the harbor, or bay, is a long,
narrow channel with high cliffs on each side, and on these cliffs are
forts, which guard the entrance to the harbor.
Our men could not see the Spanish ships in the harbor, but could see
only the narrow channel and the hills and forts above it. Our men
watched carefully, to see that no Spanish ship came out. For the
first few nights of the blockade a bright moon lighted up the channel,
but after the moon failed, the place was wonderfully lighted by the
great "search-lights" of our ships. Four battleships took turns of two
hours each in standing at the entrance of the channel and moving the
"searchlights." The ships were always headed toward the shore, and
steam was kept up.
And so our great gray vessels, grim monsters of the sea, waited and
watched near the harbor of Santiago de Cuba.
Blockading work is very hard upon officers and men. It requires
ceaseless vigilance at all hours of the day and night. Besides
preventing an enemy's ships from coming out of a blockaded port, it is
very important to prevent vessels with supplies from running in.
During the Cuban blockade our vessels captured at least one large ship
loaded with coal that was intended for Admiral Cervera's fleet. When
nations are at war, they do not allow other nations to supply their
enemies with anything that will help them. There are international
laws about this, and if a warship belonging to a nation which is at
war with another, puts into a neutral port for coal or provisions, it
is only allowed to buy enough to last it to its nearest home port. It
is not allowed to remain in a neutral port more than twenty-four
hours, either.
The purpose of a blockade is to cut off supplies and stop all
communication with the enemy by sea. When this is done, merchant
vessels of all nations are therefore forbidden to pass or even to
approach the line, and the penalty for disobedience is the
confiscation of both ship and cargo, whether the latter is contraband
or not. If a ship does not stop when hailed, she may be fired upon,
and if she is sunk while endeavoring to escape, it is her own fault.
Blockade running is perilous business, and is usually attempted under
cover of night, or in stormy weather, and it is as full of excitement
and adventure as war itself. The motive is usually either to take
advantage of famine prices, or to aid the enemy by bringing supplies
or carrying despatches. Neutral ships are entitled to some sort of
warning that a blockade exists, and in the case of Cuba, the United
States notified neutral Governments, announcing the fact, and stating
exactly the extent of coast covered.
Before we were at war with Spain, the Government restrained and
punished those who organized expeditions to help the Cubans. We were
obliged to do this because we were a neutral nation. But after our war
with Spain began, we sent all kinds of war material to the Cubans, so
as to help them to fight Spain. I will tell you about one of these
expeditions.
About the middle of May, the steamer Florida sailed from a port in the
State for which she was named, with supplies for the Cuban army. In
addition to a great quantity of provisions, clothing, shoes and
medicines, she carried several thousand rifles and an immense amount
of ammunition. Down in the hold were a hundred horses and mules, and
among the passengers were several hundred recruits for the Cuban army.
The Florida reached the Cuban coast in safety, and was met at the
appointed place by more than a thousand Cubans. It required three days
and one night to unload the cargo. Small boats conveyed the stores to
the eager hands that hurried them inland. The mules and horses swam
ashore. Women and children flocked to the scene, bringing fruit and
vegetables to exchange for coffee and meat--the first they had tasted
for a long time.
[Illustration: Searching for Contraband.]
When the cargo was all ashore, the Florida prepared to return to the
United States. Then the Cuban soldiers ranged themselves along the
shore; women and children grouped behind the ranks, and a Cuban
marching song burst from happy hearts as the Florida steamed away.
A great deal of blockading duty was done by the small vessels of the
fleets, the torpedo-boats and the armed tugboats. Many strange
encounters took place during those nights when these little craft
rolled about in the Caribbean swells, or moved along in hostile waters
without a light visible on board.
The tug-boat Leyden had one of these. With her two or three small guns
she held up a big ship one night, firing across her bow, and
demanding, "What ship is that?" It was the same vessel that had the
encounter with the Nashville, the story of which I have told you; and
so the answer came back:
"This is Her Majesty's ship, Talbot."
The idea of a tug-boat like the Leyden halting a warship in this
fashion was not particularly pleasing to the British Captain. Neither
was he better pleased when some one on the tug-boat called out, "Good
night, Talbot!" But he took it as a new experience, and solemnly
replied:
"You may go, Leyden."
The spirit that animated the officers of our navy in these trying
times was well expressed by Lieutenant Fremont, who commanded the
torpedo-boat Porter. Fremont was the son of John C. Fremont, whom you
may possibly remember as a noted explorer and pioneer in the western
part of the United States, and a general during the Civil War; and he
possessed the bravery and daring of his father. Some one said to him:
"Those Spanish destroyers have heavier batteries than yours. What
would you do if you ran across one of them out here?"
"Well," replied Fremont, "it's my business to keep them from getting
in among the fleet. I'd try to do it. I'd engage a destroyer, and if I
found his battery was too heavy for me I'd close in. If a chance
offered, I'd torpedo him. If not--well, this boat has made twenty-six
knots. I'd go at him full speed. I think the Porter would go half way
through him before we stopped."
"And then?"
"And then, I think, there would be a swimming match. It saves time to
have your mind made up in advance in such matters."
[Illustration: Lieutenant John C. Fremont.]