ADDITIONAL INCIDENTS OF THE GREAT BATTLE
As he made his awful discovery, Larry dropped the hose pipe and fell
back a few steps. To get out of danger is, instinctively, the first
thought of every one, and in a vague way it flashed over his mind that
he must flee or be annihilated.
Then another thought came, swift on the track of the first. If the
gun was discharged with the breech unlocked, all his companions, and
perhaps many others, would be killed, while there was no telling how
much the _Olympia_ would suffer.
All this passed through his mind with the rapidity of a lightning
flash. As he thought, he tried to yell to Barrow, but the words would
not come. His very jaws were set in horror, while his eyes bulged from
their sockets. His hands went up, and he shook them appealingly at the
head gunner.
But Barrow was looking another way, as was natural when the piece was
to be discharged. Larry felt it was all over. In that moment he
virtually suffered the pang of being killed.
But now came a chance to stop the impending catastrophe. Prompted by
curiosity, Barrow turned, to take another squint at the enemy before
letting drive. But his hand still retained its hold on the connection
used for firing purposes.
“Oh, God, help me!” was the thought which forced its way to Larry’s
lips, and he made one wild, agonizing leap to the head gunner’s side.
“Don’t fire! don’t fire!”
[Illustration: DON’T FIRE! DON’T FIRE!]
“What’s that?” asked Barrow, coolly, as he turned. Then as he caught
sight of the boy’s set face and staring eyes, he added, “Why, lad, what
ails you? Got a fit?”
“Don’t fire! don’t fire!” repeated Larry, and with rigid finger pointed
to the unlocked breech.
It was now Barrow’s turn to be struck dumb. He still held the
connection, and threatened in his consternation to set off the gun
anyway. But suddenly he realized the situation more fully, and dropped
the connection as though it were a coal of fire.
“Where is Castleton?” he thundered. “Does he want to blow us all to
kingdom come?”
For answer, Larry pointed to the prostrate man. “He’s knocked out by
the heat,” he answered, in a voice that did not sound in the least like
his own.
“Humph! he ought to have given us some warning!” grumbled Barrow, doing
what he could to steady his own tones. “Why, if the gun had gone off
standing like that, the whole gun-room would have been knocked out of
sight, to say nothing of the rest of the ship.”
He began to lock up the breech, and Larry turned again to poor
Castleton. The fellow soon regained his consciousness, but could not
continue his work, and was sent to the hospital quarters, while an
extra man from another gun came to take his place.
“I must give you credit for what you did, Larry,” said Barrow, when the
excitement was over. “Many a boy, and man, too, for that matter, would
have thought of nothing but getting away. You saved us all, and I, for
one, sha’n’t forget it,” and he cracked the youth good-naturedly upon
the shoulder.
Striker now came back, but the work was getting so vigorous that he
was not told of the incident until some time after. From the bridge,
the commodore had discovered a torpedo boat sneaking out from below
the fort, with the evident intention of making a circuit and coming up
back of the American ships. Captain Gridley was ordered to train the
guns of the _Olympia_ upon this craft, and the gunners went at it with
a will, each vying with the others in making the best shot. The gun
our friends were at hit the torpedo boat on the stern, disabling her
steering gear, and two other shots sent her scurrying for land. When
close to shore a final shot fairly lifted her out of the water and cast
her on the sands, a total wreck.
By the time the _Olympia_ was coming along on her third course before
the line of the enemy, it was found that the new flagship, the _Reina
Cristina_, was again in flames, while the other ships were suffering
more or less in the same way. The new flagship fought desperately, and
two shots whizzed through the _Olympia’s_ upper rigging again, while
a third fairly clipped the American flagship’s stern. But the _Reina
Cristina_ could not hold out, and retired in a thick cloud of smoke,
burning fiercely.
In the mean time, however, the _Don Antonio de Ulloa_ came to the
front with a heavy fire, directed principally at the _Olympia_ and
the _Baltimore_. Her captain, E. Robino, was known to be one of the
greatest fighters in the Spanish navy, and he kept his guns at it so
long as it was possible for him to do so.
“He is hot as pepper,” said Striker, as they drew closer to the
_Ulloa_. “But we’ll down him, see if we don’t.” And Striker was right,
for it was not long after this that the _Ulloa_ went down, many of her
men with her, but with her colors nailed to her mast. It was now seen
that nearly all the other ships were burning. A few more shots from
the _Olympia_ were delivered, and the flagship drew off, signalling
the others to follow. To go close in shore after the enemy was an
impossibility for the large members of the squadron, the water being
too shallow.
The terrific heat of the day, and the forced fighting, had almost
exhausted every man on the ships, and seeing the fight was his own,
Commodore Dewey wisely decided to give his men a breathing spell and
something to eat. Accordingly, as soon as they were out of range,
orders came to quit the guns and get breakfast. The battle had now
raged for about three hours.
“We’ve got ’em on the run!” shouted Striker, enthusiastically. “I hope
the commodore sends us back to finish ’em up.”
“He’ll do that all right enough,” replied a brawny marine standing by.
“You never saw Commodore Dewey doing things by halves.”
“Three cheers for our commodore!” suddenly shouted somebody, and the
cheers were given with a will.
“Three cheers for Captain Gridley and our other officers!” was added.
“What’s the matter with three cheers for the _Olympia_ and the other
ships of this squadron?” asked Larry, half laughing, and up went the
cheers as loudly as the rest. No one on board had been injured, the
enemy was all but defeated, and it was a joyous if a tired time all
around.
“We’ve got five shots in the upper works, that’s all,” was the report
which went around. “The only man injured is Casey. Hautermann stepped
on his toe-corn, and they had a set-to.” And a roar went up; for Casey
was known as a pugnacious Irishman, and Hautermann as an equally
belligerent German, and the two were continually at swords’ points.
Breakfast and a well-earned rest put every man again on his feet, and
Castleton came back to his gun. “I remember the breech,” he said. “I
was just starting to lock it when I went down as if a weight had hit me
on the head. I couldn’t have helped it if I was to hang for it.”
“I believe you,” growled Barrow. “But after this I reckon I’ll take a
squint at the breech myself before I touch her off.”
During the time that the men were having breakfast a council of war was
held by the commodore and his captains, and it was decided to run in
as close as possible to Fort Cavite and silence it, as well as to go
at what was left of the Spanish fleet. The order to return to battle
sounded at a little before eleven, and this time the _Baltimore_ was
allowed to lead, the _Olympia_ and others following.
Again the storm of shot and shell broke forth, fiercely upon the
American side, and but feebly upon the part of their enemy. All the big
ships of the Spaniards were now either burnt or sunk, and the little
craft were fast getting into the same condition.
“The _Raleigh_, _Concord_, and _Petrel_ will go inside and destroy
shipping,” was the next order signalled from the flagship, and those
warships hastened to obey. But the _Raleigh_ drew too much water, and
after getting aground twice was forced to give up the task assigned to
her. The _Concord_ and _Petrel_, however, crossed the shoals in safety,
and began a fierce bombardment from the rear, while the big ships
shelled the Arsenal from the front. In the mean time, the batteries
near Manila had been silenced by Commodore Dewey, who sent word that
the city’s guns must cease firing or he would shell the town.
The tide of battle had swept along into the afternoon when suddenly a
loud hurrahing was heard, coming from where the _Concord_ and _Petrel_
lay. A minute later, as the smoke lifted, a flag of truce could be seen
flying from the Arsenal. Then the _Petrel_ signalled:――
“The enemy has surrendered!”
What a storm of cheers went up. It was as if pandemonium had suddenly
broken loose upon all sides. Officers joined the men in shouting,
and the deck and rigging swarmed with jackies waving their caps and
handkerchiefs. Larry shouted as loudly as the rest, and it must be
acknowledged that the plucky boy thought it the proudest moment of his
life.
It was a victory without a parallel in history. Six American fighting
ships had attacked eight large Spanish vessels, besides a number of
small craft, a shore battery, and a fairly-well equipped fort. The
Spanish had had all their ships either sunk, blown up, or burnt, the
battery had been shattered to pieces and the fort silenced. The Spanish
had lost in killed and wounded over five hundred men, and those that
were able, were fleeing to Manila by the inland roads, and with them
Admiral Montojo, who was slightly wounded.
And the loss to the Americans? Strange, nay, astonishing as it may
appear, there was none worth mentioning, if we except the death of the
engineer overcome by the heat. On the _Baltimore_ six men had been
wounded by the bursting of a shell, but the surgeons said all would
speedily recover. The _Olympia_ had received five shots in her upper
works, of no consequence, as viewed from the standpoint of war, and the
_Raleigh’s_ whaleboat would need the services of the ship’s carpenter.
Three shots in her upper works was the damage on the _Baltimore_, and
the _Boston_, _Concord_, and _Petrel_ had escaped with practically no
injury at all.
Small wonder, then, that the officers and men of the squadron were
the happiest set on the face of the earth, and small wonder that they
thought their gallant commodore the greatest naval hero living. As for
Commodore Dewey, he was equally happy. That day’s work had placed his
name high up on the brightest page in American history.