CONTINUED SUCCESS FOR AMERICAN SOLDIERS AND SAILORS.
The Bombardment of San Juan--The Engagement at Cardenas--The
Voyage of the Oregon--The Battle at Guantanamo--Santiago Under
Fire--Landing the Troops in Cuba--The Charge of the Rough Riders
--The Sinking of the Merrimac--The Destruction of Cervera's Fleet--
The Fall of Santiago.
On the morning of May 12, a portion of the fleet, commanded by
Admiral Sampson, made an attack on the forts of San Juan de Puerto
Rico. The engagement began at 5:15 a. m. and ended at 8:15 a. m.
The enemy's batteries were not silenced, but great damage was done
to them, and the town in the rear of the fortifications suffered
great losses. The ships taking part in the action were the Iowa,
Indiana, New York, Terror, Amphitrite, Detroit, Montgomery,
Wampatuck, and Porter.
At 3 o'clock in the morning all hands were called on the Iowa, a
few final touches in clearing ship were made, and at 5 "general
quarters" sounded. The men were eager for the fight.
The tug Wampatuck went ahead and anchored its small boat to the
westward, showing ten fathoms, but there was not a sign of life
from the fort, which stood boldly against the sky on the eastern
hills hiding the town.
The Detroit steamed far to the eastward, opposite Valtern. The
Iowa headed straight for the shore. Suddenly its helm flew over,
bringing the starboard battery to bear on the fortifications.
At 5:16 a.m. the Iowa's forward twelve-inch guns thundered out at
the sleeping hills, and for fourteen minutes they poured starboard
broadsides on the coast. Meanwhile the Indiana, the New York, and
other ships repeated the dose from the rear. The Iowa turned and
came back to the Wampatuck's boat and again led the column, the
forts replying fiercely, concentrating on the Detroit, which was
about 700 yards away, all the batteries on the eastward arm of the
harbor. Thrice the column passed from the entrance of the harbor
to the extreme eastward battery.
Utter indifference was shown for the enemy's fire. The wounded
were quickly attended, the blood was washed away, and everything
proceeded like target practice.
Morro battery, on the eastward arm of the harbor, was the
principal point of attack. Rear Admiral Sampson and Captain Evans
were on the lower bridge of the Iowa and had a narrow escape from
flying splinters, which injured three men. The Iowa was hit eight
times, but the shells made no impression on its armor. The weather
was fine, but the heavy swells made accurate aim difficult.
The broadsides from the Iowa and Indiana rumbled in the hills
ashore for five minutes after they were delivered. Clouds of dust
showed where the shells struck, but the smoke hung over
everything. The shells screeching overhead and dropping around
showed that the Spaniards still stuck to their guns.
The enemy's firing was heavy, but wild, and the Iowa and New York
were the only ships hit. They went right up under the guns in
column, delivering broadsides, and then returned. The after-turret
of the Amphitrite got out of order temporarily during the
engagement, but it banged away with its forward guns. After the
first passage before the forts, the Detroit and the Montgomery
retired, their guns being too small to do much damage. The Porter
and Wampatuck also stayed out of range. The smoke hung over
everything, spoiling the aim of the gunners and making it
impossible to tell where our shots struck. The officers and men of
all the ships behaved with coolness and bravery. The shots flew
thick and fast over all our ships.
The men of the Iowa who were hurt during the action were injured
by splinters thrown by an eight-inch shell, which came through a
boat into the superstructure, and scattered fragments in all
directions. The shot's course was finally ended on an iron plate
an inch thick.
At 7:45 a. m. Admiral Sampson signaled "Cease firing." "Retire"
was sounded on the Iowa, and it headed from the shore.
After the battle was over Admiral Sampson said:
"I am satisfied with the morning's work. I could have taken San
Juan, but had no force to hold it. I merely wished to punish the
Spaniards, and render the port unavailable as a refuge for the
Spanish fleet. I came to destroy that fleet and not to take San
Juan."
The man killed by the fire from the forts was Frank Widemark, a
seaman on the flagship New York. A gunner's mate on the Amphitrite
died during the action from prostration caused by the extreme heat
and excitement.
The Iowa, Indiana, New York, Terror, and Amphitrite went close
under the fortifications after the armed tug Wampatuck had piloted
the way and made soundings.
The Detroit and Montgomery soon drew out of the line of battle,
their guns being too small for effective work against
fortifications.
Three times the great fighting ships swung past Morro and the
batteries, roaring out a continuous fire. Whenever the dense smoke
would lift, great gaps could be seen in the gray walls of Morro,
while from the batteries men could be seen scurrying in haste.
The Spanish fire was quick enough, but ludicrously uncertain. This
was shown after Admiral Sampson had given the order to cease
firing and retire. The monitor Terror evidently misunderstood the
order, for it remained well in range of the Spanish guns and
continued the bombardment alone. The few guns still served by the
Spaniards kept banging away at the Terror, and some of the shots
missed it at least a mile. It remained at its work for half an
hour before retiring, and in all this time was not once hit.
THE FIRST AMERICANS KILLED.
America's first dead fell on the 11th of May in a fierce and
bloody combat off Cardenas, on the north coast of Cuba. Five men
were blown to pieces and five were wounded on the torpedo boat
Winslow. The battle was between the torpedo boat Winslow, the
auxiliary tug Hudson, and the gunboat Wilmington on one side, and
the Cardenas batteries and four Spanish gunboats on the other. The
battle lasted but thirty-five minutes, but was remarkable for
terrific fighting. The Winslow was the main target of the enemy,
and was put out of service. The other American vessels were not
damaged, except that the Hudson's two ventilators were slightly
scratched by flying shrapnel. The Winslow was within 2,500 yards
of the shore when the shells struck. How it came to be so close
was told by its commander, Lieutenant John Bernadou. He said:
"We were making observations when the enemy opened fire on us. The
Wilmington ordered us to go in and attack the gunboats. We went in
under full steam and there's the result."
He was on the Hudson when he said this, and with the final words
he pointed to the huddle of American flags on the deck near by.
Under the Stars and Stripes were outlined five rigid forms.
List of the killed: Worth Bagley, ensign; John Daniels, first-class
fireman; John Tunnel, cabin cook; John Varveres, oiler. The wounded: J.
B. Bernadou, lieutenant, commanding the Winslow; R. E. Cox, gunner's
mate; D. McKeowan, quartermaster; J. Patterson, fireman; F. Gray.
STORY OF THE FIGHT.
The story of the fight, as told by the Hudson's men, is as
follows:
The Winslow, the Hudson, the Machias, and the Wilmington were
among the ships off Cardenas on the blockade, the Wilmington
acting as flagship. The Machias lay about twelve miles out. The
others were stationed close in, on what is called the inside line.
At a quarter to 9 o'clock the Hudson, under Captain F. H. Newton,
was taking soundings in Diana Cay bars and Romero Cay, just
outside Cardenas, so close to shore that it grounded, but it
floated off easily into the shallow water.
At half past 11 the Wilmington spoke the Hudson and the Winslow
and assigned them to duty, the Winslow to start to the eastern
shore of, Cardenas Bay and the Hudson to the western shore, while
the Wilmington took its station in mid-channel. This work occupied
two hours. Nothing was discovered on either shore, and the boats
were approaching each other on their return when a puff of smoke
was observed on shore at Cardenas, and a shell whistled over them.
The Winslow was on the inside, nearer the shore. The Hudson and
the Winslow reported to the Wilmington, and orders came promptly
to go in and open fire; but the Spaniards had not waited for a
reply to their first shot. The Cardenas harbor shore had already
become one dense cloud of smoke, shot with flashes of fire and an
avalanche of shells was bursting toward the little Winslow:
This was at five minutes past 2 o'clock, and for twenty minutes
the firing continued from the shore without cessation, but none of
the shots had at that time found their mark, though they were
striking dangerously near. Meanwhile the Hudson's two six-pounders
were banging away at a terrific rate. How many of the torpedo
boat's shots took effect is not known. The first two of the
Hudson's shells fell short, but after these two every one floated
straight into the smoke-clouded shore. The Spaniard's aim in the
meantime was improving and it was presently seen that two empty
barks had been anchored off shore. It was twenty-five minutes
before 3 o'clock when a four-inch shell struck the Winslow on the
starboard beam, knocking out its forward boiler and starboard
engine and crippling the steering gear, but no one was injured.
Lieutenant Bernadou was standing forward watching the battle with
calm interest and directing his men as coolly as if they were at
target practice. By the one-pounder amidships stood Ensign Bagley,
the oiler, the two firemen, and the cook. The little boat gasped
and throbbed and rolled helplessly from side to side. Lieutenant
Bernadou did not stop for an examination. He knew his boat was
uncontrollable. The Hudson was a short distance off still pounding
away with her guns. It was hailed and asked to take the Winslow in
tow. It was a vital moment. Guns roared from shore and sea.
Lieutenant Scott, in charge of the Hudson's aft gun, sat on a box
and smoked a cigarette as he directed the fire.
Captain Newton stood near Lieutenant Meed at the forward gun and
watched its workings with interest. Chief Engineer Gutchin never
missed his bell. A group of sailors was making ready to heave a
line to the Winslow, and Ensign Bagley and his four men stood on
the port side of the latter vessel, waiting to receive it. A
vicious fire was singing about them. The Spaniards seemed to have
found the exact range.
KILLED BY A BURSTING SHELL.
There was a momentary delay in heaving the towline, and Ensign
Bagley suggested that the Hudson's men hurry. "Heave her," he
called. "Let her come; it's getting pretty warm here." The line
was thrown and grabbed by the Winslow's men. Grimy with sweat and
powder, they tugged at it and drew nearer foot by foot to the
Hudson. Almost at the same instant another four-inch shell
shrieked through the smoke and burst directly under them. Five
bodies went whirling through the air. Two of the group were dead
when they fell--Ensign Bagley and Fireman Daniels. The young
ensign was literally disemboweled, and the entire lower portion of
the fireman's body was torn away. The other three died within a
few minutes. A flying piece of shrapnel struck Lieutenant Bernadou
in the thigh and cut an ugly gash, but the Lieutenant did not know
it then. With the explosion of the shell the hawser parted and the
Winslow's helm went hard to starboard, and, with its steering gear
smashed, the torpedo boat floundered about in the water at the
mercy of the enemy's fire, which never relaxed.
The fire of the Americans was of the usual persistent character,
and the nerve of the men was marvelous. Even after the Winslow's
starboard engine and steering gear were wrecked the little boat
continued pouring shot into the Spaniards on shore until it was
totally disabled.
Meanwhile the Wilmington from its outlying station was busy with
its bigger guns and sent shell after shell from its four-inch guns
crashing into the works on shore, and their execution must have
been deadly. Not a fragment of shot or shell from the enemy
reached the Wilmington.
The Hudson quickly threw another line to the Winslow, and the
helpless torpedo boat was made fast and pulled out of the
Spaniards' exact range. The tug then towed it to Piedras Cay, a
little island twelve miles off, near which the Machias lay. There
it was anchored for temporary repairs, while the Hudson brought
the ghastly cargo into Key West, with Dr. Richards of the Machias
attending to the wounded. Not until this mournful journey was
begun was it learned that Lieutenant Bernadou had been injured. He
scoffed at the wound as a trifle, but submitted to treatment and
is doing well.
When the Hudson drew up to the government dock at Key West the
flags at half mast told the few loiterers on shore that death had
come to some one, and the bunting spread on the deck, with here
and there a foot protruding from beneath, confirmed the news.
Ambulances were called and the wounded were carried quickly to the
army barracks hospital. The dead were taken to the local
undertaker's shop, where they lay all day on slabs, the mutilated
forms draped with flags. The public were permitted to view the
remains, and all day a steady stream of people flowed through the
shop.
The American boats made furious havoc with Cardenas harbor and
town. The captain of the Hudson said:
"I know we destroyed a large part of their town near the wharves,
burned one of their gunboats, and I think destroyed two other
torpedo destroyers. We were in a vortex of shot, shell and smoke,
and could not tell accurately, but we saw one of their boats on
fire and sinking soon after the action began. Then a large
building near the wharf, I think the barracks, took fire, and many
other buildings were soon burning. The Spanish had masked
batteries on all sides of us, hidden in bushes and behind houses.
They set a trap for us. As soon as we got within range of their
batteries they would move them. I think their guns were field
pieces. Our large boats could not get into the harbor to help us
on account of the shallow water."
Amid a perfect storm of shot from Spanish rifles and batteries the
American forces made an attempt to cut the cables at Cienfuegos,
on the 11th of May. Four determined boat crews, under command of
Lieutenant Winslow and Ensign Magruder, from the cruiser
Marblehead and gunboat Nashville, put out from the ships, the
coast having previously been shelled, and began their perilous
work. The cruiser Marblehead, the gunboat Nashville and the
auxiliary cruiser Windom drew up a thousand yards from shore with
their guns manned for desperate duty.
One cable was quickly severed and the work was in progress on the
other when the Spaniards in rifle pits and a battery in an old
lighthouse standing out in the bay opened fire. The warships
poured in a thunderous volley, their great guns belching forth
massive shells into the swarms of the enemy. The crews of the
boats proceeded with their desperate work, notwithstanding the
fact that a number of men had fallen, and, after finishing their
task, returned to the ships through a blinding smoke and a heavy
fire. Two men were killed, and seven wounded by the fire of the
enemy. Captain Maynard had a narrow escape from death. A rifle
shot hit his side close to the heart, but caused only a flesh
wound and he kept at his post to the end. The officers of the
Windom were enthusiastic over the work of the men in the launches.
They fired in regular order and shot well. The Windom demolished
the lighthouse, which was in reality a fort, and not one stone was
left standing upon another.
On May 14 Admiral Sampson ordered Captain Goodrich to cut the
French cable running from Mole St. Nicholas, Hayti, to Guantanamo,
Cuba, about thirty miles to the eastward of Santiago. In
compliance with this order the St. Louis and the Wampatuck
appeared off Guantanamo about daylight, and the Wampatuck, with
Lieutenant Jungen in command and Chief Officer Seagrave, Ensign
Payne, Lieutenant Catlin and eight marines and four seamen on
board, steamed into the mouth of the harbor, and, dropping a
grapnel in eight fathoms of water, proceeded to drag across the
mouth of the harbor for the cable.
About 150 fathoms of line were run out when the cable was hooked in
fifty fathoms of water. This time the lookout reported a Spanish
gun-boat coming down the harbor and a signal was sent to the St. Louis,
lying half a mile outside. She had already discovered it, and
immediately opened fire with her two port six-pounders. The Wampatuck
then commenced firing with her one three-pounder. The gunboat, however,
was out of range of these small guns and, the shells fell short.
The Spaniards opened fire with a four-inch gun, and every shot went
whistling over the little Wampatuck and struck in the water between her
and the St. Louis. Being well out of range of the six-pounders the
gunboat was perfectly safe, and she steamed back and forth firing her
larger guns. For about forty minutes the tug worked on the cable, while
the shells were striking all around her, but she seemed to bear a
charmed life.
Captain Goodrich, seeing that he could not get the gunboat within
range of his small guns, while that vessel could easily reach the
St. Louis and Wanipatuck with her heavier battery, signaled the
tug to withdraw. The grappling line was cut and both vessels
steamed out to sea, leaving the cable uncut.
As the tug turned and started out it was noticed that riflemen on
shore were firing at her. Lieutenant Catlin opened up with the
Gatling gun mounted aft and the Spaniards on shore could be seen
scattering and running for shelter. The French cable was cut the
next morning off Mole St. Nicholas, well outside of the three-mile
limit.
Lieutenant Catlin was formerly on the battleship Maine, and
perhaps he took more than ordinary interest in firing his guns.
"You could tell by the grim smile on his face as he fired each
shot," one of his brother officers said, "that he was trying to
'get even,' as far as lay in his power, for the awful work in
Havana harbor."
SECOND CALL FOR VOLUNTEERS.
The President issued a proclamation calling for 75,000 more
volunteers on May 25. This made the total army strength, regular
and volunteer, 280,000.
The official call issued by the President in the form of a
proclamation was as follows:
Whereas, An act of Congress was approved on the 25th day of April,
1898, entitled "An act declaring that war exists between the
United States of America and the kingdom of Spain," and,
Whereas, By an act of Congress, entitled "An act to provide for
temporarily increasing the military establishment of the United
States in time of war and for other purposes," approved April
22, 1898, the President is authorized, in order to raise a
volunteer army, to issue his proclamation calling for volunteers
to serve in the army of the United States,
Now, therefore, I, William McKinley, President of the United
States, by virtue of the power vested in me by the constitution
and the laws and deeming sufficient occasion to exist, have
thought fit to call forth, and hereby do call forth, volunteers to
the aggregate number of 75,000 in addition to the volunteers
called forth by my proclamation of the 23d day of April, in the
present year; the same to be apportioned, as far as practicable,
among the several States and Territories and the District of
Columbia, according to population, and to serve for two years
unless sooner discharged. The proportion of each arm and the
details of enlistment and organization will be made known through
the war department.
In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand and caused the
seal of the United States to be affixed.
Done at the city of Washington, this 25th day of May, in the year
of our Lord, 1898, and of the independence of the United States,
the 122d.
WILLIAM McKINLEY.
By the President, WILLIAM K. DAY, Secretary of State.
RUNNING DOWN HIS PREY.
Four weeks after the victory of Rear-Admiral Dewey at Manila,
Commodore Schley, in command of the flying squadron, had his
shrewdness and pertinacity rewarded by finding the Spanish fleet
in the harbor of Santiago de Cuba.
For ten days he had, in the face of conflicting rumors, insisted
that the ships of Spain were trying to make a landing on the
southern coast of Cuba. This was evidently not in consonance with
certain official information and his opinion was not given much
weight.
The captain of the British steamer Adula, who was interviewed at
Cienfuegos, told of seeing the Spanish fleet in the vicinity of
Santiago de Cuba, evidently awaiting an opportunity to get in.
Captain Sigsbee of the St. Paul related how he had captured a
Spanish coal vessel going into the harbor of Santiago, and
Commodore Schley argued from these two incidents that the fleet of
Spain was waiting in some haven near by until such time as a
visit, fruitless in its results, should be made there by the
Americans when, upon their departure, the Spanish fleet would run
in.
Consequently, Commodore Schley determined to find it. Himself in
the lead with the flagship, he started toward the harbor. The
Spanish troops at the works and batteries could be seen, through
glasses, preparing in haste to give the American ships as warm a
reception as possible.
When about five miles from the batteries the lookouts reported the
masts of two ships, and Flag Lieutenant Sears and Ensign McCauley
made out the first to be the Cristobal Colon. Two torpedo boats
were also made out and a second vessel of the Vizcaya class was
seen.
All this time Commodore Schley was upon the afterbridge of the
Brooklyn making good use of his binoculars. Arrived at the harbor
entrance, when the ships were sighted from the deck, he turned his
eyes from the glasses long enough to wink and say: "I told you I
would find them. They will be a long time getting home."
THE VOYAGE OF THE OREGON.
The voyage of the Oregon from San Francisco to Florida is a matter
of historic interest, for it was the first craft of the kind to
weather the famous cape. When it anchored off Sand Key, Fla., it
had completed the longest trip ever made by a battleship.
Altogether she sailed 18,102 miles in eighty-one days, and this
includes the days she spent in coaling. Prior to this trip the
record for long voyages had been held by a British flagship, which
steamed from England to China. The distance from Puget Sound to
Sand Key is more than two-thirds the circumference of the earth.
The big trip was a record of itself, and it included within it
several minor records for battleship steaming. For example, the
Oregon ran 4,726 miles without a stop of any kind for any purpose.
Such a run is longer than the voyage from New York to Queenstown
or to Bremen or to Havre. It is comparable with the great runs of
the magnificent merchant ships of the Peninsular and Oriental
Steamship Navigation Company from London to Calcutta, Bombay and
Madras. It was a triumph for any kind of a ship, but it was a
wonder for a battleship. The Oregon left Puget Sound March 6, left
San Francisco on March 19 and drew up at Sand Key, Fla., on May
26. Everything on board of her was shipshape. Her engines, of
11,111 horse power, were bright and fresh and ready for another
voyage of 17,000 miles. Not a bolt was loose; not a screw was out
of order.
HOBSON WINS FAME.
On Thursday, June 2, Admiral Sampson decided to send the collier
Merrimac into the bay of Santiago and sink it in the channel's
narrowest part, for the purpose of holding Cervera and his fleet
in the harbor, until the time when their capture or destruction
seemed advisable. He called for volunteers, explaining that it was
a desperate mission, death being almost certain for all those who
ventured in.
Then the navy showed the stuff of which it is made. Admiral
Sampson wanted eight men. He could have had every officer and man
in the fleet, for all were more than ready. Lieutenant Richmond P.
Hobson was selected to command the expedition, and Daniel
Montague, George Charette, J. C. Murphy, Osborn Deignan, George F.
Phillips, Francis Kelly and B. Clausen were detailed to accompany
him.
Just before 3 o'clock on the morning of the 3d the collier, deeply
laden with, ballast material and some coal, was headed without
preliminary maneuver straight for the entrance, over which the
remaining batteries from Morro frowned from one side, and those
from Socapa from the other. In the darkness of the early morning
the Merrimac, without a light showing anywhere, dashed within the
line of the forts before it was discovered, Sampson's ships
thundering at the enemy's batteries to divert their attention from
the collier. The Spaniards soon detected it, however, and brought
every possible gun to bear. In the face of a terrific fire of shot
and shell from Spanish guns the Merrimac ran into the narrow
channel, where it was swung across and anchored. Then Lieutenant
Hobson blew a hole in the ship's bottom and with his seven men
took to a boat. They first made an effort to row out of the harbor
and regain the American fleet, but soon realizing that, to attempt
to pass the aroused batteries would mean certain death to all,
they turned and rowed straight towards the Spanish squadron, and
surrendered to Admiral Cervera, who held them as prisoners of war.
The Spanish commander sent his chief of staff, Captain Oviedo,
under a flag of truce to Admiral Sampson, bearing the information
of the safety of the heroes. The Spanish officers were
enthusiastic in their praise of the bravery shown by Hobson and
his men, and looked upon them with amazement as heroes whose
gallantry far exceeded any Spanish conception of what men might do
for their country, and it was with great chagrin that Admiral
Cervera was prevented by the Madrid authorities from returning the
heroic young officer and his brave men to Admiral Sampson, but was
compelled to deliver them to the military authorities ashore as
prisoners of war.
THROWN INTO A DUNGEON BY LINARES.
General Linares, with the brutal instinct that had marked his
conduct of Cuban affairs already intrusted to him, deliberately
placed Hobson and his men in Morro Castle as a shield against the
fire of Sampson's squadron. Here Hobson was locked up for five
days in solitary confinement in a filthy dungeon under conditions
which must have soon resulted in his serious illness and perhaps
in death. The treatment he received and the scanty food given him
were no better than that accorded to a common criminal condemned
to execution.
This punishment, however, was of short duration on account of the
vigorous protest which was made through a neutral power to Spain,
coupled with Admiral Sampson's notice to the Spanish admiral that
he would be held personally responsible for Hobson's welfare.
Under these circumstances Admiral Cervera interposed his influence
with General Linares; and Hobson, with his men, was transferred to
the barracks in the city. Here his solitary confinement continued,
but he could look out of a window to the hills on the east and see
the smoke from the American rifles of General Shatter's men firing
from their intrenchments with the consolation that his captivity
would be of short duration.
After the assault on Santiago arrangements were made by the
commanders of the two armies for the exchange of Lieutenant Hobson
and his men for Spanish prisoners held by the Americans, and a
truce was established for that purpose. The place selected for the
exchange was under a tree between the American and Spanish lines,
two-thirds of a mile beyond the intrenchments occupied by Colonel
Wood's Rough Riders, near General Wheeler's headquarters, and in
the center of the American line.
The American prisoners left the Reina Mercedes hospital on the
outskirts of Santiago de Cuba, where they had been confined, in
charge of Major Irles, a Spanish staff officer, who speaks English
perfectly.
The prisoners were conducted to the meeting place on foot, but
were not blindfolded. Colonel John Jacob Astor and Lieutenant
Miloy, accompanied by Interpreter Maestro, were in charge of the
Spanish prisoners. These consisted of Lieutenants Amelio Volez and
Aurelius, a German, who were captured at El Caney, and Lieutenant
Adolfo Aries and fourteen non-commissioned officers and privates.
Lieutenant Aries and a number of the men were wounded in the fight
at El Caney. The Spanish prisoners were taken through the American
lines mounted and blindfolded.
The meeting between Colonel Astor and Major Irles was extremely
courteous, but very formal, and no attempt was made by either of
them to discuss anything but the matter in hand. Major Irles was
given his choice of three Spanish lieutenants in exchange for
Hobson, and was also informed that he could have all of the
fourteen men in exchange for the American sailors. The Spanish
officers selected Lieutenant Aries, and the other two Spanish
officers were conducted back to Juragua.
It was then not later than 4 o'clock, and just as everything was
finished and the two parties were separating Irles turned and
said, courteously enough, but in a tone which indicated
considerable defiance and gave his hearers the impression that he
desired hostilities to be renewed at once:
"Our understanding is, gentlemen, that this truce comes to an end
at 5 o'clock."
Colonel Astor looked at his watch, bowed to the Spanish officer,
without making a reply, and then started back slowly to the
American lines, with Hobson and his companions following.
The meeting of the two parties and the exchange of prisoners had
taken place in full view of both the American and Spanish soldiers
who were intrenched near the meeting place, and the keenest
interest was taken in the episode.
SANTIAGO UNDER FIRE.
On the morning of June 6 the American fleet engaged the Spanish
batteries defending the entrance of the harbor of Santiago de
Cuba, and, after three hours' bombardment, silenced nearly all the
forts, destroyed several earthworks, and rendered the Estrella and
Cayo batteries, two of the principal fortifications, useless.
The fleet formed in double column, six miles off Morro Castle, at
6 o'clock in the morning, and steamed slowly 3,000 yards off
shore, the Brooklyn leading, followed by the Marblehead, Texas and
Massachusetts, and turned westward. The second line, the New York
leading, with the New Orleans, Yankee, Iowa and Oregon following,
turned eastward.
The Vixen and Suwanee were far out on the left flank, watching the
riflemen on shore. The Dolphin and Porter did similar duty on the
right flank. The line headed by the New York attacked the new
earthworks near Morro Castle. The Brooklyn column took up a
station opposite the Estrella and Catalina batteries and the new
earthworks along the shore.
The Spanish batteries remained silent. It is doubtful whether the
Spaniards were able to determine the character of the movement,
owing to the dense fog and heavy rain which were the weather
features this morning.
Suddenly the Iowa fired a twelve-inch shell, which struck the base
of Estrella battery and tore up the works. Instantly firing began
from both Rear-Admiral Sampson's and Commodore Schley's column,
and a torrent of shells from the ships fell upon the Spanish
works. The Spaniards replied promptly, but their artillery work
was of a poor quality and most of their shots went wild. Smoke
settled around the ships in dense clouds, rendering accurate
aiming difficult. There was no maneuvering of the fleet, the ships
remaining at their original stations, firing steadily. The
squadrons were so close in shore that it was difficult for the
American gunners to reach the batteries on the hilltops, but their
firing was excellent.
Previous to the bombardment, orders were issued to prevent firing
on Morro Castle, as the American Admiral had been informed that
Lieutenant Hobson and the other prisoners of the Merrimac were
confined there. In spite of this, however, several stray shots
damaged Morro Castle somewhat.
Commodore Schley's line moved closer in shore, firing at shorter
range. The Brooklyn and Texas caused wild havoc among the Spanish
shore batteries, quickly silencing them. While the larger ships
were engaging the heavy batteries, the Suwanee and Vixen closed
with the small in-shore battery opposite them, raining rapid-fire
shots upon it and quickly placing the battery out of the fight.
The Brooklyn closed to 800 yards and then the destruction caused
by its guns and those of the Marblehead and Texas was really
awful. In a few minutes the woodwork of Estrella fort was burning
and the battery was silenced, firing no more during the
engagement. Eastward the New York and New Orleans silenced the
Cayo battery in quick order and then shelled the earthworks
located higher up. The practice here was not so accurate, owing to
the elevation of the guns. Many of the shells, however, landed,
and the Spanish gunners retired.
Shortly after 9 o'clock the firing ceased, the warships turning in
order to permit the use of the port batteries. The firing then
became a long reverberating crash of thunder, and the shells raked
the Spanish batteries with terrific effect. Fire broke out in
Catalina fort and silenced the Spanish guns. The firing of the
fleet continued until 10 o'clock, when the Spanish ceased
entirely, and Admiral Sampson hoisted the "Cease firing" signal.
After the fleet retired the Spaniards returned to their guns and
sent twelve shots after the American ships, but no damage was
done. In fact, throughout the entire engagement none of our ships
was hit and no American was injured.
One purpose of Admiral Sampson, it appears, was to land troops and
siege guns at Aguadores, after reducing the defenses of the place,
and then make a close assault upon Santiago, which, in view of the
present condition of its fortifications, may be expected to yield
soon.
A landing of American troops was effected near Baiquiri, some
distance east of Aguadores, and near the railroad station
connecting with Santiago de Cuba. Later an engagement took place
between the American force and a column of Spanish troops which
had been sent against the landing party. The Spaniards were driven
back.
THE MARINES AT GUANTANAMO.
Lieutenant-Colonel R. W. Huntington's battalion of marines landed
from the transport Panther on Friday, June 10, and encamped on the
hill guarding the abandoned cable station at the entrance to the
outer harbor of Guantanamo. On Saturday afternoon a rush attack
was made on them by a detachment of Spanish regulars and
guerrillas, and for thirteen hours the fighting was almost
continuous, until re-enforcements were landed from the Marblehead.
The engagement began with desultory firing at the pickets, a
thousand yards inland from the camp. Captain Spicer's company was
doing guard duty and was driven in, finally rallying on the camp
and repulsing the enemy at 5 o'clock. The sky was blanketed with
clouds, and when the sun set a gale was blowing out seaward. Night
fell thick and impenetrable. The Spanish squads concealed in the
chaparral cover had the advantage, the Americans on the ridge
furnishing fine targets against the sky and the white tents.
The Spaniards fought from cover until midnight, discoverable only
at flashes, at which the marines fired volleys. Shortly after
midnight came the main attack. The Spaniards made a gallant charge
up the southwest slope, but were met by repeated volleys from the
main body and broke before they were one-third of the way up the
hill; but they came so close at points that there was almost a
hand-to-hand struggle. The officers used their revolvers. Three
Spaniards got through the open formation to the edge of the camp.
Colonel Jose Campina, the Cuban guide, discharged his revolver,
and they, finding themselves without support, beat a hasty
retreat down the reverse side of the hill. During this assault
Assistant Surgeon John Blair Gibbs was killed. He was shot in the
head in front of his own tent, the farthest point of attack. He
fell into the arms of Private Sullivan and both dropped. A second
bullet threw the dust in their faces. Surgeon Gibbs lived ten
minutes, but he did not again regain consciousness. Four Americans
were killed and one wounded in this engagement.
Sunday brought no rest. Every little while the p-a-t of a Mauser
would be heard, and a spatter of dust on the camp hillside would
show where the bullet struck. During the day the enemy kept well
back, scattering a few riflemen through the trees to keep up a
desultory fire on the camp. There was no massing of forces,
evidently for fear of shells from the Marblehead, which lay in the
harbor close by. But when night came on again the Spanish forces
were greatly augmented and in the dark were bolder in their
attacks.
Lieutenant Neville was sent with a small squad of men to dislodge
the advance pickets of the enemy, and his men followed him with a
will. The Spaniards, who had been potting at every shadow in the
camp, fled when the American pickets came swinging down their way.
As the Americans pressed along the edge of the steep hill,
following a blind trail, they nearly fell into an ambush. There
was a sudden firing from all directions, and an attack came from
all sides.
Sergeant-Major Henry Good was shot through the right breast and
soon died. The Americans were forced back upon the edge of the
precipice and an effort was made to rush them over, but without
success. As soon as they recovered from the first shock and got
shelter in the breaks of the cliff their fire was deadly. Spaniard
after Spaniard went down before American bullets and the rush was
checked almost as suddenly as it was begun, causing the enemy to
fall back. The Americans swarmed after the fleeing Spaniards,
shooting and cheering as they charged, and won a complete victory.
The Spanish forces left fifteen dead upon the field. The American
loss was two killed and four wounded.
The night attack was picturesque, and a striking spectacle--the
crack of the Mausers, tongues of fire from every bush encircling
the camp, the twitter of the long steel bullets overhead, while
the machine guns down on the water were ripping open the pickets,
and the crash of the field guns could be heard as they were
driving in canister where the fire of the Spaniards was the
thickest. Then there was the screech of the Marblehead's shells as
she took a hand in the fight, and the sharp, quick flashing of the
rapid-firing one-pounder guns from the ships' launches.
On Tuesday the brave marines, who had been exposed for three days
and nights to the fire of a foe they could but blindly see, weary
of a kind of warfare for which they were not trained, went into
the enemy's hiding place and inflicted disastrous punishment. The
primary object of the expedition was to destroy the tank which
provided the enemy with water. There are three ridges over the
hills between the camp from which the Americans and their Cuban
allies started and the sea. In the valley between the second and
third was the water tank. The Spanish headquarters were located at
cross-roads between the first and second ridges, and it was
against this place that a detachment of fifty marines and ten
Cubans under Lieutenants Mahoney and Magill was sent. Their
instructions were to capture and hold this position. Captain
Elliot with ninety marines and fifteen Cubans went east over the
last range of hills, and Captain Spicer with the same number of
men went to the west. A fourth party of fifty marines and a Cuban
guide under command of Lieutenant Ingate made a detour and secured
a position back of Lieutenant Mahoney.
The first fighting was done by the men under Lieutenant Magill
with the second platoon of Company E. These parted from the
others, going over the first hill to the second one. They had
advanced but a short distance when they came to a heliograph
station guarded by a company of Spaniards. Shooting began on both
sides, the Mausers of the Spanish and the guns of the Americans
snapping in unison. Our men had toiled up the hillside in the
boiling sun, but they settled down to shooting as steadily and as
sturdily as veterans could have done. The skirmish lasted fifteen
minutes. At the end of this time the Spaniards could no longer
stand the methodical, accurate shooting of Magill's men, and they
ran helter-skelter, leaving several dead upon the field.
Lieutenant Magill took possession of the heliograph outfit without
the loss or injury of a man.
But this was in truth only a skirmish, and the real fighting was
at hand. Captains Spicer and Elliot and Lieutenant Mahoney led
their men up the second range of hills. A spattering of bullets
gave note that the news of their coming was abroad, but they
toiled up to the top of the hill. Here they found the Spanish camp
situated on a little ridge below them. There was one large house,
the officers' quarters, and around this was a cluster of huts, in
the center of which was the water tank which they had come to
destroy. Quickly they moved into line of battle, and advanced down
the mountain, the enemy's bullets singing viciously, but going
wildly about them.
Gradually the Americans and Cubans descended the slope, shooting
as they went, and closing in upon the enemy in hiding about the
huts and in the brush. Then the order came to make ready for a
bayonet charge, but it had scarcely been given when the Spaniards
broke from cover and ran, panic-stricken, for a clump of brush
about one hundred yards further on. Then there was shooting quick
and fast. There were dozens of Spanish soldiers who did not reach
the thicket, for the American fire was deadly, and man after man
was seen to fall.
The fighting blood of the Americans was up. Elliot's command made
straight for the thicket to which the Spanish had fled, routed
them out, and drove them on before. Up the ridge they forced them,
shooting and receiving an answering fire all the way. Pursuers and
pursued moved on over the crest of the hill, and there the
Spaniards received a new surprise. Lieutenant Magill and his men
had made a detour and were waiting for them. As the enemy came
within rifle shot over the hill and started to descend Lieutenant
Magill's men emptied their rifles. The Spanish turned back
dismayed, and wavered for a time between the two fires of our
troops, uncertain which way to turn. Then they assembled at the
top of the hill. This was a fatal mistake, for the Dolphin had
taken up a position to the sea side of the hills in the morning,
and the moment her commander espied the Spaniards on the summit of
the ridge he opened fire upon them.
The slaughter was terrific, but it is but just to record the fact
that the enemy made a brave fight. They would not surrender, and
made an attempt to fight their way along the summit of the ridge,
but they were routed and ran in all directions to escape.
While the Americans were destroying the blockhouse, tank and
windmill the Cubans rounded up a Spanish lieutenant and seventeen
privates. These were spared and compelled to surrender. The
lieutenant gave the Spanish loss in the battle at sixty-eight
killed and nearly 200 wounded. Not an American was killed, and no
one seriously wounded.
TRANSPORTS FILLED WITH TROOPS.
After weeks of waiting and preparation the first army of invasion
to start from the eastern shores of the United States departed
under the command of General Shatter on the morning of June 14 at
9 o'clock. The fleet of transports consisted of thirty-five
vessels, four tenders and fourteen convoys. The actual embarkation
of the troops began on Monday, June 6. The work proceeded
diligently until late on Wednesday afternoon, when, after the
departure of several vessels, an important order came, calling a
halt in the proceedings. The alleged cause of the delay was the
report that the Hornet while out scouting had sighted several
Spanish war vessels.
Like a wet blanket came the order to halt. Cheerfulness was
displaced by keen disappointment. Two questions were on every
tongue--"Has Spain surrendered?" "Has our fleet met with a
reverse?" The former met with the readiest belief, many believing
the words in the order "indefinitely postponed" meant peace.
General Miles and his staff went to Port Tampa Sunday morning at
6:30' to deliver parting instructions. During a heavy rain squall
on Saturday night at 8 o'clock while the transports were straining
at their cables the little tug Captain Sam steamed from ship to
ship megaphoning the order: "Stand ready to sail at daylight."
Above the roar of the storm wild cheers were heard and a bright
flash of lightning revealed the soldiers standing in the rain
waving their wet hats and hurrahing. When the morning broke, piers
were lined with transports, the docks were crowded with box cars,
flat cars, stock cars, baggage and express cars. Most of these
were crowded with soldiers who were cheered until their ears
ached, and who cheered in return until hoarse.
Bright-colored dresses and fragile parasols in the crowds of blue-coats
indicated the presence of the fair sex. Horses and mules were kicking up
clouds of dust and the sun poured down its hot rays on the sweltering
mass of humanity. Thus Sunday passed, the transports at the docks and
those in midstream receiving their quotas of men and the necessaries to
sustain them.
STIRRING SCENES CONTINUED.
General Miles again went to the port on Monday on the early train.
The stirring scenes continued; the mad rush had not abated.
General Miles from the observation end of his car watched the
crowd as it passed near him. The transports swinging at their
moorings were plainly in view, as were also many of those at the
docks. The embarkation of animals was progressing satisfactorily.
Shortly after 9 o'clock the funnels of the transports began to
pour forth volumes of black smoke. The Olivette, Margaret, Mateo
and Laura were visiting the fleet, giving water to one, troops to
another, animals and equipments to another. Along the pier could
be heard the voices of the transport commanders as they gave their
orders to cut loose. The gangplanks were pulled in, the hatchways
closed, lines cast off and the engines were put in motion.
The vessels backed into the bay and anchored to await the order to
sail. The Matteawan hove her cable short at 10 o'clock. All eyes
were riveted on the Seguranca, the flagship, and when the final
signal came a mighty cheer arose. From the lower row of portholes
to her tops hats waved in wild delight. The anchor was quickly
weighed and the great vessel pointed her prow down the bay. In a
few minutes the City of Washington, Rio Grande, Cherokee, Iroquois
and Whitney followed. As these boats picked their way through the
anchored fleet men shouted and bands played. Every vessel elicited
a wild display of enthusiasm. These were the only vessels to
depart in the forenoon, some of them going over to St. Petersburg
to procure water.
General Miles, evidently becoming impatient, embarked on the
Tarpon at 12:30 and went out among the fleet, going as far down
the bay as St. Petersburg and not returning until 4 o'clock. In
the meantime other transports were steaming down the bay.
In the afternoon the Morgan cut a path of white foam down the
channel, and her lead was followed by the Vigilance, San Marcos,
Clinton, Yucatan, Stillwater, Berkshire, Olivette, Santiago,
Arkansas, Seneca, Saratoga, Miami, Leona, Breakwater and Comal. By
the time these vessels had moved away darkness had enveloped the
remaining ships, from whose sides glimmered long rows of lights.
The Knickerbocker, numbered thirteen, and the Orizaba had much to
take on during the night. The last to load were eager to complete
the task for fear they might be left. By daylight all the ships
except the Seguranca had moved down the bay. At 9 o'clock the
Seguranca, amid cheers and the blowing of whistles, followed.
General Shatter and his staff were the last to leave. The last
orders were handed to Lieutenant Miley, an aid to General Shafter,
and immediately the flagship started.
SAMPSON AGAIN SHELLS SANTIAGO.
Rear-Admiral Sampson's fleet bombarded the batteries at Santiago
de Cuba for the third time at daylight on the morning of June 16.
For hours the ships pounded the batteries at the right and left of
the entrance, only sparing El Morro, where Lieutenant Hobson and
his companions of the Merrimac were in prison.
As a preliminary to the hammering given the batteries the dynamite
cruiser Vesuvius at midnight was given another chance. Three 250-pound
charges of gun cotton were sent over the fortifications at the entrance.
The design was to drop them in the bay around the angle back of the
eminence on which El Morro is situated, where it was known that the
Spanish torpedo-boat destroyers were lying. Two charges went true, as no
reports were heard--a peculiarity of the explosion of gun cotton in
water. The third charge exploded with terrific violence on Cayo Smith.
From where the fleet lay the entrance to the harbor looked, in the
black night, like a door opening into the livid fire of a Titanic
furnace. A crater big enough to hold a church was blown out of the
side of the Cayo Smith and was clearly seen from the ships.
Coffee was served to the men at 3:30 in the morning, and with the
first blush of dawn the men were called quietly to quarters. The
ship steamed in five-knot speed to a 3,000-yard range, when they
closed up, broadside on, until a distance of three cable-lengths
separated them. They were strung out in the form of a crescent,
the heavy fighting ships in the center, the flagship on the right
flank and the Massachusetts on the left flank. The line remained
stationary throughout the bombardment. The Vixen and Scorpion took
up positions on opposite flanks, close in shore, for the purpose
of enfilading any infantry that might fire upon the ships.
When the ships got into position it was still too dark for any
firing. The Admiral signaled the ships not to fire until the
muzzles of the enemy's guns in the embrasures could be seen by the
gun captains.
Fifteen minutes later, at 5:25 am, the New York opened with a
broadside from her main battery at the works on the east of the
entrance to the harbor. All the ships followed in red streaks of
flame. The fleet, enveloped in smoke, pelted the hills and kicked
up dirt and masonry.
Though the gun captains had been cautioned not to waste
ammunition, but to fire with deliberation, the fire was so rapid
that there was an almost continuous report. The measured crash of
the big thirteen-inch guns of the battleships sounded above the
rattle of the guns of the secondary batteries like thunder-claps
above the din of a hurricane. A strong land breeze off the shore
carried the smoke of the ships seaward, while it let down a thick
curtain in front of the Spanish gunners.
The dons responded spiritedly at first, but their frenzied, half-crazed
fire could not match the cool nerve, trained eyes and skilled gunnery of
the American sailors. Our fire was much more effective than in preceding
bombardments. The Admiral's ordnance expert had given explicit
directions to reduce the powder charges and to elevate the guns, so as
to shorten the trajectory and thus to secure a plunging fire.
The effect of the reduced charges was marvelous. In fifteen minutes one
western battery was completely wrecked. The Massachusetts tore a gaping
hole in the emplacement with a 1,000-pound projectile, and the Texas
dropped a shell into the powder magazine. The explosion wrought terrible
havoc.
The frame was lifted, the sides were blown out and a shower of
debris flew in every direction. One timber, carried out of the
side of the battery, went tumbling down the hill.
The batteries on the east of Morro were harder to get at, but the
New Orleans crossed the bows of the New York to within 500 yards
of shore and played a tattoo with her long eight-inch rifles,
hitting them repeatedly, striking a gun squarely muzzle-on,
lifting it off its trunnions and sending it sweeping somersaults
high in the air.
When the order came, at 6:30, to cease firing, every gun of the
enemy had been silenced for ten minutes, but as the ships drew off
some of the Spanish courage returned and a half-dozen shots were
fired spitefully at the Massachusetts and Oregon, falling in their
wakes.
WENT ASHORE WITH A RUSH.
Sea and weather were propitious when, on June 22, the great army
of invasion under General Shatter left their transports in
Baiquiri harbor, and landed on Cuban soil. The navy and the army
co-operated splendidly and as the big warships closed in on the
shore to pave the way for the approach of the transports and then
went back again, three cheers for the navy went up from many
thousand throats on the troop-ships and three cheers for the army
rose from ship after ship.
The Cuban insurgents, too, bore their share in the enterprise
honorably and well. Five thousand of them in mountain fastness and
dark thickets of ravines, lay all the previous night on their guns
watching every road and mountain path leading from Santiago to
Guantanamo. A thousand of them were within sight of Baiquiri,
making the approach of the Spaniards under cover of darkness an
impossibility.
There is a steep, rocky hill, known as Punta Baiquiri, rising
almost perpendicularly at the place indicated. It is a veritable
Gibraltar in possibilities of defense. From the staff at its
summit the Spanish flag was defiantly floating at sunset; but in
the morning it was gone, and with it the small Spanish guard which
had maintained the signal station. Between nightfall and dawn the
Spaniards had taken the alarm and fled from the place, firing the
town as they left.
The flames were watched with interest from the ships. Two sharp
explosions were heard. At first they were thought to be the report
of guns from Spanish masked batteries, but they proved to be
explosions of ammunition in a burning building.
Three hours' waiting made the men on the transports impatient to
get ashore and in action, and every move of the warships was
closely watched by the soldiers.
A little before 9 o'clock the bombardment of the batteries of
Juragua was begun. This was evidently a feint to cover the real
point of attack, Juragua being about half-way between Baiquiri and
Santiago. The bombardment lasted about twenty minutes. The scene
then quickly shifted back again to the great semi-circle of
transports before Baiquiri.
At 9:40 o'clock the New Orleans opened fire with a gun that sent a
shell rumbling and crashing against the hillside. The Detroit,
Wasp, Machias and Suwanee followed suit. In five minutes the sea
was alive with flotillas of small boats, headed by launches,
speeding for the Baiquiri dock. Some of the boats were manned by
crews of sailors, while others were rowed by the soldiers
themselves. Each boat contained sixteen men, every one in fighting
trim and carrying three days' rations, a shelter tent, a gun and
200 cartridges. All were ready to take the field on touching the
shore should they be called upon.
The firing of the warships proved to be a needless precaution, as
their shots were not returned and no Spaniards were visible.
General Shafter, on board the Seguranca, closely watched the
landing of the troops. Brigadier-General Lawton, who had been
detailed to command the landing party, led the way in a launch,
accompanied by his staff, and directed the formation of the line
of operation.
A detachment of eighty regulars was the first to land, followed by
General Shafter's old regiment, the First infantry. Then came the
Twenty-fifth, Twenty-second, Tenth, Seventh and Twelfth infantry
in the order named, and the Second Massachusetts and a detachment
of the Ninth cavalry.
The boats rushed forward simultaneously from every quarter, in
good-natured rivalry to be first, and their occupants scrambled
over one another to leap ashore. As the boats tossed about in the
surf getting ashore was no easy matter, and the soldiers had to
throw their rifles on the dock before they could climb up. Some
hard tumbles resulted, but nobody was hurt. At the end of the pier
the companies and regiments quickly lined up and marched away.
General Lawton threw a strong detachment for the night about six
miles west, on the road to Santiago, and another detachment was
posted to the north of the town among the hills. The rest of the
troops were quartered in the town, some of them being housed in
the buildings of the iron company.
Some of the troops were quartered in deserted houses, while others
preferred the shelter of their tents in the adjoining fields.
The morning's fire, it was seen, had destroyed the roundhouse, the
repair shops and several small dwellings. The town was deserted
when the troops landed, but women and children soon appeared from
the surrounding thickets and returned to their homes.
Part of the sun-bronzed troops quickly searched the buildings and
beat up the thickets in search of lurking foes and then at
nightfall marched into the unknown country beyond, with long,
swinging strides and the alert bearing of the old frontier army
men, ready to fight the Spaniards Sioux-fashion or in the open,
wherever they could be found.
The landing was accomplished without loss of life, the only
accident being the wounding of an insurgent on the hills by a
shell from one of the warships.
VICTORY IS DEARLY BOUGHT.
On Friday morning, June 24, four troops of the First cavalry, four
troops of the Tenth cavalry and eight troops of Roosevelt's Rough
Riders--less than 1,000 men in all--dismounted and attacked 2,000
Spanish soldiers in the thickets within five miles of Santiago de
Cuba. A bloody conflict ensued, and the Americans lost sixteen
men, including Captain Allyn M. Capron and Hamilton Fish, Jr., of
the Rough Riders.
Practically two battles were fought at the same time, one by the
Rough Riders under the immediate command of Colonel Wood, on the
top of the plateau, and the other on the hillsides, several miles
away, by the regulars, with whom was General Young.
The expedition started from Juragua--marked on some Cuban maps as
Altares--a small town on the coast nine miles east of Morro
Castle, which was the first place occupied by the troops after
their landing at Baiquiri.
Information was brought to the American army headquarters by
Cubans that forces of Spanish soldiers had assembled at the place
where the battle occurred to block the march on Santiago.
General Young went there to dislodge them, the understanding being
that the Cubans under General Castillo would co-operate with him,
but the latter failed to appear until the fight was nearly
finished. Then they asked permission to chase the fleeing
Spaniards, but as the victory was already won General Young
refused to allow them to take part in the fight.
General Young's plans contemplated the movement of half of his
command along the trail at the base of the range of hills leading
back from the coast, so that he could attack the Spaniards on the
flank while the Rough Riders went off to follow the trail leading
over the hill to attack them in front. This plan was carried out
completely. The troops left Juragua at daybreak. The route of
General Young and the regulars was comparatively level and easy of
travel. Three Hotch-kiss guns were taken with this command.
The first part of the journey of the Rough Riders was over steep
hills several hundred feet high. The men carried 200 rounds of
ammunition and heavy camp equipment. Although this was done easily
in the early morning, the weather became intensely hot, and the
sun beat down upon the cowboys and Eastern athletes as they toiled
up the grade with their heavy packs, and frequent rests were
necessary. The trail was so narrow that for the greater part of
the way the men had to proceed single file. Prickly cactus bushes
lined both sides of the trail, and the underbrush was so thick
that it was impossible to see ten feet on either side. All the
conditions were favorable for a murderous ambuscade, but the
troopers kept a close watch, and made as little noise as possible.
The Rough Riders entered into the spirit of the occasion with the
greatest enthusiasm. It was their first opportunity for a fight,
and every man was eager for it. The weather grew swelteringly hot,
and one by one the men threw away blankets and tent rolls, and
emptied their canteens.
The first intimation had by Colonel Wood's command that there were
Spaniards in the vicinity was when they reached a point three or
four miles back from the coast, when the low cuckoo calls of the
Spanish soldiers were heard in the bush.
It was difficult to locate the exact point from which these sounds
came, and the men were ordered to speak in low tones.
CHARGE THE ENEMY
As soon as the enemy could be located a charge was ordered, and
the Americans rushed into the dense thicket regardless of danger.
The Spaniards fell back, but fired as they ran, and the battle
lasted about an hour.
The Spaniards left many dead on the field, their loss in killed
being not less than fifty.
The Spanish had carefully planned an ambush and intended to hold
the Americans in check. They became panic-stricken at the boldness
of the rush made by the invading force. The position gained was of
great advantage.
Where the battle took place a path opens into a space covered with
high grass on the right-hand side of the trail and the thickets. A
barbed wire fence runs along the left side. The dead body of a
Cuban was found on the side of the road, and at the same time
Captain Capron's troops covered the outposts the heads of several
Spaniards were seen in the bushes for a moment.
It was not until then that the men were permitted to load their
carbines. When the order to load was given they acted on it with a
will and displayed the greatest eagerness to make an attack. At
this time the sound of firing was heard a mile or two to the
right, apparently coming from the hills beyond the thicket. It was
the regulars replying to the Spaniards who had opened on them from
the thicket. In addition to rapid rifle fire the boom of Hotchkiss
guns could be heard.
Hardly two minutes elapsed before Mauser rifles commenced to crack
in the thicket and a hundred bullets whistled over the heads of
the Rough Riders, cutting leaves from the trees and sending chips
flying from the fence posts by the side of the men. The Spaniards
had opened and they poured in a heavy fire, which soon had a most
disastrous effect. The troops stood their ground with the bullets
singing all around them. Private Colby caught sight of the
Spaniards and fired the opening shot at them before the order to
charge was given.
Sergeant Hamilton Fish, Jr., was the first man to fall. He was
shot through the heart and died instantly. The Spaniards were not
more than 200 yards off, but only occasional glimpses of them
could be seen. The men continued to pour volley after volley into
the brush in the direction of the sound of the Spanish shots, but
the latter became more frequent and seemed to be getting nearer.
Colonel Wood walked along his lines, displaying the utmost
coolness. He ordered troops to deploy into the thicket, and sent
another detachment into the open space on the left of the trail.
Lieutenant Colonel Roosevelt led the former detachment and tore
through the brush, urging his men on. The shots came thicker and
faster every moment, and the air seemed filled with the singing
and shrieking sound of the Mauser bullets, while the short pop of
the Spanish rifles could be distinguished easily from the heavier
reports of the American weapons. Sometimes the fire would come in
volleys and again shots would follow each other in rapid
succession for several minutes.
Captain Capron stood behind his men, revolver in hand, using it
whenever a Spaniard exposed himself. His aim was sure and two of
the enemy were seen to fall under his fire. Just as he was
preparing to take another shot and shouting orders to his men at
the same time, his revolver dropped from his grasp and he fell to
the ground with a ball through his body. His troop was badly
disconcerted for a moment, but with all the strength he could
muster he cried, "Don't mind me, boys, go on and fight." He was
carried from the field as soon as possible and lived only a few
hours. Lieutenant Thomas of the same troop received a wound
through the leg soon afterward and became delirious from pain.
ROOSEVELT'S NARROW ESCAPE.
The troops that were in the thicket were not long in getting into
the midst of the fight. The Spaniards located them and pressed
them hard, but they sent a deadly fire in return, even though most
of the time they could not see the enemy. After ten or fifteen
minutes of hot work the firing fell off some, and Lieutenant
Colonel Roosevelt ordered his men back from the thicket into the
trail, narrowly escaping a bullet himself, which struck a tree
alongside his head.
It was evident the Spaniards were falling back and changing their
positions, but the fire continued at intervals. Then the troops
tore to the front and into more open country than where the
enemy's fire was coming from. About this time small squads
commenced to carry the wounded from the thicket and lay them in a
more protected spot on the trail until they could be removed to
the field hospital.
It was not long before the enemy gave way and ran down the steep
hill and up another hill to the blockhouse, with the evident
intent of making a final stand there.
Colonel Wood was at the front directing the movement and it was
here that Major Brodie was shot. Colonel Wood and Lieutenant
Colonel Roosevelt both led the troops in pursuit of the fleeing
Spaniards and a hail of bullets was poured into the blockhouse. By
the time the American advance got within 600 yards of the
blockhouse the Spaniards abandoned it and scattered among the
brush up another hill in the direction of Santiago, and the battle
was at an end.