SEA FIGHT OFF MANILA, AMERICANS VICTORIOUS.
The Eyes of the World Fixed on the First Great Naval Battle of
Our War with Spain--Asiatic Waters the Scene of the Notable
Conflict--Importance of the Battle in Its Possible Influence on
the Construction of All the European Navies--Bravery of Admiral
Dewey and the American Sailors of His Fleet--A Glorious Victory
for the Star-Spangled Banner--Capture of Manila and Destruction of
the Spanish Fleet.
Seldom has the attention of all the world been so directed upon
an expected event in a remote quarter of the globe, as during the
few days at the end of April when the American fleet in Asiatic
waters was steaming toward an attack on Manila, the capital of the
Philippine islands. The eyes of every civilized country were
strained to see what would be the result of the encounter which
was certain to come.
It was recognized frankly by the authorities on warfare
everywhere, that the outcome of this first great naval battle
would go far toward deciding the fortunes of the entire war. But
the importance of the event from this point of view was less than
that from another which interested the governments of all Europe.
This first test of the modern fighting machine at sea was expected
to furnish lessons by which the merits of such vessels could be
definitely judged. It might be that they would prove far less
efficient than had been calculated by the lords of the admiralty,
and that the millions and millions invested in the fleets of
Europe would be found virtually wasted. It was this, quite as much
as its bearing on the war, that made universal attention direct
itself upon the meeting of the squadrons in the Philippines.
All America rejoiced at the news that came flashing over the
cables on Sunday, May 1, when the first word of the battle reached
the United States. Even Spanish phrases could not conceal the fact
that the encounter had been a brilliant victory for the valor of
American sailors, and the strength of American ships. A Spanish
fleet of superior size virtually annihilated, a city in terror of
capture, the insurgent armies at the gates of Manila, the losses
of Spanish soldiers and sailors admittedly great, and finally the
sullen roar of discontent that was rising against the government
in Madrid--all these things indicated that the victory had been an
overwhelming one for the Asiatic squadron under Admiral George
Dewey.
As the details of the engagement began to multiply, in spite of
Spanish censorate over the cables, which garbled the facts as
generously as possible in favor of the Spanish forces, the
enthusiasm of the people throughout the cities and villages of
America swelled in a rising tide of joy and gratitude for the
victory that had been given to them. From Eastport to San Diego,
and from Key West to Seattle, flags flashed forth and cheers of
multitudes rose toward the sky. Around the newspaper bulletins,
throngs gathered to read the first brief reports, and then
scattered to spread the news among their own neighbors. Seldom has
an event been known so widely throughout the country with as
little delay as was this news of an American victory in the
antipodes. There was a sense of elation and relief over the
result, and an absolute assurance grew in every one's mind that no
reverse to American arms could come in the threatened conflicts
ashore or at sea.
A NATION IN SUSPENSE.
But after the first news of victory was received there came a
period of delay. It was learned that the cable between Manila and
Hongkong had been cut, and the only means of immediate
communication was suspended.
Then came fretful days of waiting and not a word further as to the
great battle. To add to the anxiety, from time to time came ugly
rumors about Admiral Dewey being trapped, and when all the
circumstances of the case were considered it is not strange that
something like a chill of apprehension began to be felt as to the
fate of the American fleet and its gallant commander. Manila bay
was known to be mined, and electric connections might again have
been made. The guns of the forts on the land-locked bay might not
have been silenced, and Spanish treachery and guile might have
accomplished what in open battle Spain's fleet had been unable to
do.
But the morning of the 7th of May brought word from Hongkong that
sent a thrill of patriotic pride through all America. Our Yankee
tars had won the fight, and won it without the loss of a man.
Even those who witnessed the overwhelming victory could scarcely
understand how the ships and the men of Admiral Dewey's vessels
came out of the battle unhurt and practically unmarked.
Soon after midnight on Sunday morning, May 1, the American fleet,
led by the flagship Olympia, the largest vessel among them, passed
unnoticed the batteries which were attempting to guard the wide
entrance to the harbor. Each vessel had orders to keep 400 yards
behind the preceding one, and as there were nine vessels,
including the two transports and colliers Nanshan and Zafiro, in
the American fleet, the line was nearly a mile and three-quarters
long, and at the rate of steaming it was perhaps three-quarters of
an hour from the time the Olympia came within range of the shore
batteries until the two transports were safely inside the harbor.
The Olympia, Baltimore, Raleigh, Petrel and Concord passed in
safety and the land batteries might never have suspected the
presence of the fleet but for a peculiar accident on the
McCulloch. The soot in the funnel caught fire. Flames spouted up
from it, and the sparks fell all over the deck. The batteries must
have been awake and watching. Five minutes later, or just at
11:50, signals were seen on the south shore, apparently on
Limbones point. The flying sparks from this boat made her the only
target in the American line. She continued to steam ahead, and at
12:15, May 1, just as she came between the fort at Restingo and
the batteries on the island of Corregidor she was fired upon by
the fort at the south.
The Boston, just ahead, had her guns manned and ready, and she
responded to the shore fire with great promptness, sending an
eight-inch shell toward the curl of smoke seen rising from the
battery. This was the first shot fired by the Americans. It was
not possible to judge of its effect. There was another flash on
shore and a shell went singing past, only a few yards ahead of her
bow. If it had struck fairly it would have ripped up the unarmored
cutter. This was the McCulloch's only chance to get into battle.
She slowed down and stopped and sent a six-pound shot at the shore
battery and followed immediately with another.
The Spaniards answered, but this time the shot went wild. The
McCulloch then sent a third shell, and almost immediately, the
Boston repeated with one of her big guns. After that the shore
battery ceased, and the last half of the fleet steamed into the
bay without further interruption. At no time did the batteries on
Corregidor fire. All the firing by the Spanish came from the south
battery, which was much nearer. Five or six shells were fired by
the Americans, and the Spanish shot three times, doing absolutely
no damage. There were conflicting reports among the naval officers
as to the firing at the entrance to the bay, but it is certain
that the McCulloch fired three shots. During this firing, the
chief engineer of the McCulloch died of nervous shock.
WHEN SPANISH SHIPS WERE SIGHTED.
After passing through the channel the American line moved very
slowly. The men on the McCulloch were in a fighting fever after
the brush at the entrance to the harbor, and were expecting every
minute to hear cannonading from the heavy ships ahead. The fleet
crept on and on, waiting under the cover of darkness, and not
certain as to their location or at all sure that they would not
run into a nest of mines at any moment.
It was nearly 1 o'clock when they were safely in the bay. Between
that hour and 4:30 the fleet, moving slowly in a northeasterly
direction, headed for a point perhaps five miles to the north of
Manila. After covering about seventeen miles, and with the first
light of day, the Spanish ships were sighted off to the east under
shelter of the strongly fortified naval station at Cavite. The
batteries and the town of Cavite are about seven miles southwest
of Manila, and are on an arm of land reaching northward to inclose
a smaller harbor, known as Baker bay. From where the fleet first
stopped, the shapes of the larger Spanish cruisers could be made
out dimly, and also the irregular outlines of the shore batteries
behind. It was evident, even to a landsman, that the Spanish fleet
would not fight unless our vessels made the attack, coming within
range of the Cavite batteries.
The signaling from the flagship and the hurried movement on every
deck showed that the fleet was about to attack. In the meantime
the McCulloch received her orders. She was to lie well outside,
that is, to the west of the fighting line, and protect the two
cargo ships, Nanshan and Zafiro. The position assigned to her
permitted the American fleet to carry on their fighting maneuvers
and at the same time to keep between the Spanish fleet and the
three American ships which were not qualified to go into the
battle.
GOVERNOR-GENERAL'S PROCLAMATION.
Shortly before 5 o'clock Sunday morning and when every vessel in
the fleet had reported itself in readiness to move on Cavite, the
crews were drawn up and the remarkable proclamation issued by the
governor-general of the Philippine islands, on April 23, was read
to the men. Every American sailor went into battle determined to
resent the insults contained in the message, which was as follows:
Spaniards! Hostilities have broken out between Spain and the
United States. The moment has arrived for us to prove to the world
that we possess the spirit to conquer those who, pretending to be
loyal friends, have taken advantage of our misfortune and abused
our hospitalities, using means which civilized nations count
unworthy and disreputable.
The North American people, constituted of all the social
excrescences, have exhausted our patience and provoked war with
their perfidious machinations, with their acts of treachery, with
their outrages against laws of nations and international
conventions. The struggle will be short and decisive, the God of
victories will give us one as brilliant and complete as the
righteousness and justice of our cause demand. Spain, which counts
on the sympathies of all the nations, will emerge triumphantly
from the new test, humiliating and blasting the adventurers from
those states that, with out cohesion and without history, offer to
humanity only infamous tradition and the ungrateful spectacle of
chambers in which appear united insolence, cowardice and cynicism.
A squadron, manned by foreigners possessing neither instructions
nor discipline, is preparing to come to this archipelago with the
ruffianly intention of robbing us of all that means life, honor
and liberty.
Pretending to be inspired by a courage of which they are
incapable, the North American seamen undertake as an enterprise
capable of realization the substitution of protestantism for the
Catholic religion you profess, to treat you as tribes refractory
to civilization, to take possession of your riches as if they were
unacquainted with the rights of property, and kidnap those persons
whom they consider useful to man their ships or to be exploited in
agricultural or individual labor. Vain design! Ridiculous
boasting! Your indomitable bravery will suffice to frustrate the
attempt to carry them into realization. You will not allow the
faith you profess to be made a mockery, impious hands to be placed
on the temple of the true God, the images you adore to be thrown
down by unbelief. The aggressors shall not profane the tombs of
your fathers. They shall not gratify their lustful passions at the
cost of your wives' and daughters' honor or appropriate the
property that your industry has accumulated as a provision for
your old age. No! They shall not perpetrate the crimes inspired by
their wickedness and covetousness, because your valor and
patriotism will suffice to punish and abase the people that,
claiming to be civilized and cultivated, have exterminated the
natives of North America instead of bringing to them the life of
civilization and progress. Men of the Philippines, prepare for the
struggle, and united under the glorious Spanish flag, which is
ever covered with laurels, let us fight with the conviction that
victory will crown our efforts, and to the calls of our enemies
let us oppose with the decision of the Christian and patriotic cry
of "Viva Espana." Your governor,
BASILIO AUGUSTIN DIVILIO.
EXPLODING THE MINES.
If the cry of "Remember the Maine" were not enough to put the
American sailors in a fighting mood as the warships moved forward
in battle line, the memory of this insulting proclamation helped
to put them on their mettle.
The Olympia headed straight for the Spanish position a few minutes
before 5 o'clock. She was moving at moderate speed. The other
vessels followed in the same order which had been observed in
entering the bay. The Spaniards were impatient and showed bad
judgment. At 5:10 o'clock there was a puff of smoke from one of
the Cavite batteries and a shell dropped into the water far
inshore from the flagship. Several shots followed, but the range
was too long. While the American ships continued to crowd on, two
uplifts of the water far in the wake of the Olympia, and off at
one side, were seen. Two mines had been exploded from their land
connections. They did not even splash one of our boats, but those
who were watching and following behind, held their breath in
dread, for they did not know at what moment they might see one of
the ships lifted into the air. But there were no more mines. The
Spaniards, in exploding them, had bungled, as they did afterward
at every stage of their desperate fighting.
Already there was a film of smoke over the land batteries and
along the line of Spanish ships inshore. The roar of their guns
came across the water. Our fleet paid no attention.
The Olympia, in the lead, counted ten Spanish warships, formed in
a semi-circle in front of the rounding peninsula of Cavite, so
that they were both backed and flanked by the land batteries. The
ten vessels which made the fighting line were the flagships Reina
Christina, the Castilla, the Antonio de Ulloa, the Isla de Cuba,
the Isla de Luzon, the El Correo, the Marquis del Duero, the
Velasco, the Gen. Lezo and the Mindanao, the latter being a mail
steamer which the Spaniards had hastily fitted with guns. The
Castilla was moored head and stern, evidently to give the fleet a
fixed spot from which to maneuver, but the other boats were under
steam and prepared to move.
The Olympia opened fire for the American fleet when two miles away
from the enemy. She began blazing away with her four eight-inch
turret guns. The thunders of sound came rolling across the water
and the flagships were almost hidden in smoke. Now our ships
circled to the north and east in the general direction of the city
of Manila. That is, the American fleet circling toward the
northeast and further in toward shore all the time, turned and
came back in a southwesterly direction, passing in parade line
directly in front of the Spanish fleet and batteries, so that the
first general broadside was from the port side, or the left of the
ships as one stands on the stern and faces the bow. The McCulloch
had taken its position so that the fleet, in delivering this first
broadside, passed between it and the enemy. The McCulloch and the
Nanshan and Zafiro played in behind the heavy line like the backs
of a football team.
Having delivered the port broadside, the American fleet turned,
heading toward the shore, and moved back toward the northeast,
delivering the starboard broadside.
As our ships passed to and fro, the stars and stripes could be
seen whirling out from the clouds of smoke, and as the line passed
the second and third times without a sign of any ship being
injured, the sailors began to feel that the Spaniards were not so
formidable after all. Their shots went tearing away over our ships
or splashed the water farther in shore. Some of the men who fought
at the guns said that after the first general broadside, the
sailors laughed at the wild shots, and exposed themselves
recklessly, feeling that they were in no particular danger.
The story of the first general engagement is that the Americans
moved in front of the Spanish line five times, pouring in
broadsides with all the available guns. Each time the fleet drew
nearer to shore, and each time the firing became more terribly
effective, while the Spaniards failed to improve in marksmanship.
Our gunners fired first the port broadsides, then the starboard,
then the port again, then the starboard and then the port guns for
a third time, and at this last, or fifth, return for an engagement
along the line they were within 1,500 yards of the Spanish
position. Our whole line was choked with smoke, but still unhurt.
The Spanish fleet was already wounded beyond recovery.
DUEL OF THE FLAGSHIPS.
It was during the delivery of this last attack that the Reina Christina
made a valiant attack. Up to that time not a Spanish ship had left the
line of battle. As the Olympia approached, Admiral Montejo gave orders,
and the Reina Christina moved out from the line to engage the big
flagship of the American fleet. Admiral Dewey's boat welcomed the
battle. Every battery on the Olympia was turned on the Reina Christina.
In the face of this awful fire she still advanced. The American sailors
had ridiculed the gunnery of the Spaniards, but they had to admire this
act of bravery. She came forward and attempted to swing into action
against the Olympia, but was, struck fore and aft by a perfect storm of
projectiles. With the Olympia still pounding at her, she swung around
and started back for the protection of the navy yard. Just after she had
turned a well-aimed shell from one of the Olympia's eight-inch guns
struck her, fairly wrecking the engine-room and exploding a magazine.
She was seen to be on fire, but she painfully continued her way toward
the shelter of Cavite and continued firing until she was a mass of
flames. It was during this retreat that Captain Cadarso was killed. The
bridge was shot from under Admiral Montejo. The Spanish sailors could be
seen swarming out of the burning ship and into the small boats. Admiral
Montejo escaped and transferred his pennant to the Castilla. He had been
on the Castilla less than five minutes when it was set on fire by an
exploding shell.
Toward the close of the decisive engagement, and just after the
Reina Christina had been sent back, hammered to pieces and set on
fire, two small torpedo boats made a daring attempt to slip up on
the Olympia. A pall of smoke was hanging over the water. Taking
advantage of this, they darted out from the Spanish lines and
headed straight for the American flagship. They were fully 800
yards in advance of the Spanish line (or more than half of the way
toward the Olympia) when they were discovered. Admiral Dewey
signaled his men to concentrate all batteries on them. Every gun
on the port side of the Olympia was leveled on the two little
craft which came flying across the water. A fierce fire was
opened, but they escaped the first volley and came on at full
speed. The flagship stopped. A second broadside was delivered. The
torpedo boats were either injured or else alarmed, for they turned
hastily and started for the shore. An eight-inch shell struck one.
It exploded and sunk immediately, with all on board. The other,
which had been hit, ran all the way to shore and was beached.
These were the only two attempts the Spanish made to offer
offensive battle.
It would be difficult to describe in detail these first two hours
of terrific fighting. The sounds were deafening, and at times the
smoke obscured almost the whole picture of battle. The American
commander himself could not estimate the injury to the enemy until
after he had withdrawn from the first general engagement and
allowed the smoke to clear away. Unfortunately, our fleet had no
supply of smokeless powder. All during the fighting of Sunday
morning, Admiral Dewey stood with Captain Lambertson on the
forward bridge of the Olympia. He was absolutely exposed to the
heaviest firing, because the Spanish fleet and the land batteries
as well continually made a target of our big flagship. Captain
Wildes, on the Boston, carried a fan as he stood on the bridge,
and at one time drank a cup of coffee while continuing to give
orders to his gunners.
It was 7:45 when the American fleet withdrew out of range, not
because it had suffered any reverses, but merely to ascertain the
damages and hold a consultation.
Not until the commanders had reported to Admiral Dewey did he
learn of the insignificant loss which his fleet had sustained. Not
one man had been killed and not one vessel was so badly injured
but that it was ready to put to sea at once. Through the glasses
it could be seen that the Reina Christina and the Castilla were
burning. The smaller vessels had taken refuge behind the arsenal
at Cavite. The Mindanao had been driven ashore. Already the
victory was almost complete. The American sailors were wild with
enthusiasm. Although hardly one of them had slept the night
before, and they had been fighting in a burning temperature, they
were more than anxious to return to the engagement and finish the
good work. It was thought best, however, to take a rest for at
least three hours. The decks were cleaned and the guns readjusted,
and after food had been served to the men, the fleet formed and
headed straight for Cavite again. The remnant of the Spanish
squadron offered very little resistance, but the forts at Cavite
continued their wild efforts to strike an American warship.
MAKING THE SECOND ATTACK.
This time the Baltimore was sent in advance. She headed boldly to
within range of the Cavite batteries. By this time the Americans
had a contempt for Spanish marksmanship. The Baltimore opened fire
and pounded away for thirty minutes. At the end of that time every
gun of the batteries had been silenced. Of the Spanish war-ships
the Antonio de Ulloa was the only one which came out of refuge to
offer battle with the Baltimore and she met with horrible
punishment. Her decks were literally swept with shell, but even
after she was apparently wrecked her lower guns were used with
wonderful persistence.
The Baltimore, having silenced the forts, turned all her guns on
the Spanish cruiser and actually riddled her. She sank and all her
crew went down with her. That was the end of Spanish resistance.
Admiral Dewey ordered his light-draught vessels to enter the navy
yard and destroy everything that might give future trouble. The
Boston, the Concord and the Petrel were detailed for this duty,
but the Boston, drawing twenty feet, ran aground twice, not
knowing the shoals, and had to leave the work to the Petrel and
Concord. By the time these two vessels reached the navy yard they
found the vessels there abandoned and most of them on fire. They
destroyed the fag end of the Spanish fleet, and when Sunday
afternoon came there was nothing left above water to represent the
Spanish naval force in Asiatic waters except the transport Manila.
The arsenal had been shelled to pieces.
At 12:45 o'clock the signal was given that the Spanish had
surrendered. The word was passed rapidly from ship to ship. The
American sailors were crazy with delight. There was tremendous
cheering on every ship. The enthusiasm became even greater when
the word was passed that not one of our men had been killed and
not one American vessel had been injured. The eight men who were
hurt by the explosion on the Baltimore continued to fight until
the end of the battle. The Boston was struck once and the
officers' quarters set on fire.
For some reason the Spanish gunners seemed to think that the
Baltimore was especially dangerous, having the general build of a
battleship, and, next to the flagship, she had to withstand the
greatest amount of firing, and was struck several times, with no
great damage. Except for the torn rigging and a few dents here and
there few signs could be discovered that the vessels had engaged
in one of the most decisive naval battles of modern times.
The Concord and the Petrel were not hit at all, although the
latter went deeper into the enemy's position than any other vessel
in our fleet The Olympia made a glorious record. She was struck
thirteen times, counting the shells which tore through her
rigging, but she came out as good as she went in.
LOSS OF THE SPANISH.
Compared with these trivial losses the damage done to the Spanish
was fearful. Five hundred and fifty of them were killed and 625
wounded. Eleven of their ships were totally demolished, and the
Americans captured one transport and several smaller vessels.
Their money loss by reason of the battle was not less than
$5,000,000.
During the naval action a battery of 10-inch guns at Manila opened
an ineffectual fire on our fleet as it was moving into action
north of Cavite. The admiral did not return' the fire out of mercy
for the people of Manila, as any shots passing over the shore
batteries would have landed in a populous portion of the city.
On Monday, May 2, the Raleigh and Baltimore were sent to demand
the surrender of the forts at the mouth of the bay. These forts
were taken without resistance. The troops had fled and only the
commandant remained to surrender himself.
In regard to the cutting of the cable, Admiral Dewey regarded the
action as necessary. He sent word to the governor by the British
consul that if he was permitted to send his dispatches to the
United States government the cable would not be cut. The governor
refused to promise and Admiral Dewey decided to stop all
communication between Manila and Madrid.
On Monday, when the cable was cut, the commander established a
marine guard at Cavite to protect the hospitals and the Spanish
wounded. Surgeons and the hospital corps of the American fleet
were detailed to care for the wounded Spaniards, and they cared
for them as tenderly as if they were brothers in arms instead of
enemies. On Wednesday, May 4, several hundred of the wounded
Spaniards were conveyed under the Red Cross flag to Manila and
were cared for in the hospitals there.
The Spaniards in Manila no longer feared the Americans, but they were in
dread of capture by the insurgents. The rebels were over-running Cavite
and pillaging houses. The country back of Manila was full of burning
buildings and wrecked plantations. The reckless insurgents were applying
the torch right and left.
ADMIRAL MONTEJO'S PRIVATE PAPERS.
The most interesting capture made by the Americans was a bundle of
private papers belonging to Admiral Montejo. One of these
communications, bearing his signature, showed that it was his
intention to have a general review and inspection of the fleet at
7 o'clock on Sunday morning. This proves that he was not expecting
the American fleet so soon.
Other papers showed that it had been his intention at one time to
intrust the defense of Manila to the land batteries and take the
fleet to Subig bay, north of Manila, believing that he could there
take up a strong position and have an advantage over an attacking
fleet.
According to the reports from Manila the admiral first went ashore
at Cavite and had his wounds dressed. He succeeded in evading the
insurgents, who wished to capture him, and arrived in Manila
twelve hours after the fight.
There are some very interesting figures as to the amount of firing
done by our ships during the battle. The Olympia fired 1,764
shells, aggregating twenty-five tons in weight. The Baltimore did
even heavier firing, being called upon to reduce the forts after
the first engagement, and sent no less than thirty-five tons of
metal into the Spanish ships and the land batteries. The remainder
of the fleet shot a total of eighty tons of metal, making a grand
total of 140 tons.
The Spanish officers attributed the American victory to the
rapidity and the accuracy of our fire rather than to the weight of
projectiles used. Also, the fact that the American ships were
painted a lead color and did not stand out boldly against the
water made them very unsatisfactory targets and kept the Spanish
gunners guessing as to the correct range.
In spite of his overwhelming defeat Admiral Montejo did not forget
the courtesies of the occasion. On Monday he sent word by the
British consul to Admiral Dewey that he wished to compliment the
Americans on their marksmanship. He said that never before had he
witnessed such rapid and accurate firing. Admiral Dewey, not to be
outdone in the amenities of war, sent his compliments to the
Spanish admiral and praised the Spaniards very highly for their
courage and resistance. He said that the Spanish force was
stronger than he had believed it would be before his arrival at
the harbor, and he had really expected a shorter and less stubborn
battle. It is said that this message, although complimentary to
the Spanish, did not give Admiral Montejo any real comfort.
The Spanish ships destroyed were: The Reina Christina, flagship of
Admiral Montejo; Cruiser Castilla (wooden); Cruiser Don Antonio de
Ulloa; Protected Cruiser Isla de Luzon; Protected Cruiser Isla de
Cuba; Gunboat General Lezo; Gunboat Marquis del Duero; Gunboat El
Cano; Gunboat El Velasco; the Steamer Mindanao, with supplies,
burned.
These were captured: Transport Manila, with supplies; Gunboat
Isabella I; Cruiser Don Juan de Austria; Gunboat Rapido; Gunboat
Hercules; two whaleboats; three steam launches.
Secretary Long sent this dispatch immediately to Acting Admiral
Dewey:
The President, in the name of the American people, thanks you and
your officers and men for your splendid achievement and
overwhelming victory. In recognition he has appointed you Acting
Admiral, and will recommend a vote of thanks to you by Congress as
a foundation for further promotion.
DEWEY'S NEW RANK.
The Senate unanimously confirmed the President's nomination making
George Dewey a rear admiral in the United States navy. Congress
made the place for him, and the President promoted him.
He bears on his shoulders two stars and an anchor instead of two
anchors and a star. His pay has been increased from $5,000 a year
to $6,000 a year, while at sea and until he retires. He was
presented with a sword, and medals were struck for his men. His
elevation in rank, his increase in pay, are gratifying tributes to
his greatness. But there is a rank to which the President could
not elevate him, a position that Congress could not create, for he
created it himself. In the hearts of the people Admiral Dewey is
the Hero of Manila, holding a place prouder than a king's, a place
in the love and admiration and gratitude of a great nation.
Greater than Farragut, greater than Hull, greater than Hawke or
Blake or Nelson, Dewey is the greatest of fleet commanders, the
grandest of the heroes of the sea. It will be recorded of him that
he was faithful to duty, true to his flag, magnanimous to his
enemies and modest in the hour of triumph.