While the American people were concentrating their attention upon the
blockade of Santiago near their own shores, the situation in the distant
islands of the Pacific was rapidly becoming acute. All through June,
Dewey had been maintaining himself, with superb nerve, in Manila Harbor,
in the midst of uncertain neutrals. A couple of unwieldy United States
monitors were moving slowly to his assistance from the one side, while
a superior Spanish fleet was approaching from the other. On the 26th of
June, the Spanish Admiral Camara had reached Port Said, but he was not
entirely happy. Several of his vessels proved to be in that ineffective
condition which was characteristic of the Spanish Navy. The Egyptian
authorities refused him permission to refit his ships or to coal, and
the American consul had with foresight bought up much of the coal which
the Spanish Admiral had hoped to secure and take aboard later from
colliers. Nevertheless the fleet passed through the Suez Canal and
entered the Red Sea.
Fully alive to the danger of the situation, the Naval War Board gave
orders on the 29th of June for a squadron under Commodore Watson to
start for the Spanish coast in hope of drawing Camara back.
The alarm which had previously been created on the American coast by
the shrouded approach of Cervera naturally suggested that the Americans
themselves might win one of those psychological victories now recognized
as such an important factor in modern warfare. The chief purpose of
future operations was to convince the Spanish people that they were
defeated, and nothing would more conduce to this result than to bring
war to their doors. This was, moreover, an operation particularly suited
to the conditions under which the United States was waging war, for
publicity was here a helping factor. Admiral Sampson, more intent
on immediate business than on psychological pressure, was not
enthusiastically in favor of the plan. Nevertheless preparation
proceeded with that deliberation which in this case was part of the
game, and presently the shadow of an impending American attack hung
heavy over the coasts of Spain. The Spanish Government at first perhaps
considered the order a bluff which the United States would not dare to
carry out while Cervera's fleet was so near its own shores; but with the
destruction of Cervera's ships the plan became plainly possible, and on
the 8th of July the Spanish Government ordered Camara back to parade his
vessels before the Spanish cities to assure them of protection.
But, before Camara was called home, the public were watching his advance
against the little American fleet at Manila, with an anxiety perhaps
greater than Dewey's own. Nothing in modern war equals in dramatic
tension the deadly, slow, inevitable approach of a fleet from one side
of the world against its enemy on the other. Both beyond the reach of
friendly help, each all powerful until it meets its foe, their home
countries have to watch the seemingly never coming, but nevertheless
certain, clash, which under modern conditions means victory or
destruction. It is the highest development of that situation which has
been so exploited in a myriad forms by the producers of dramas for the
moving pictures and which nightly holds audiences silent; but it plays
itself out in war, not in minutes but in months. No one who lived
through that period can ever forget the progress of Camara against
Dewey, or that of Rozhestvensky with the Russian fleet, six years later,
against Togo.
Meanwhile another move was made in the Caribbean. General Miles had from
the first considered Porto Rico the best immediate objective: it was
much nearer Spain than Cuba, was more nearly self-sufficing if left
alone, and less defensible if attacked. The War Department, on the 7th
of June, had authorized Miles to assemble thirty thousand troops for
the invasion of Porto Rico, and preparations for this expedition were
in progress throughout the course of the Santiago campaign. Miles at
the time of the surrender of Santiago was actually off that city with
reinforcements, which thereupon at once became available as a nucleus to
be used against Porto Rico. On the 21st of July he left Guantanamo Bay
and, taking the Spaniards as well as the War Department completely by
surprise as to his point of attack, he effected a landing on the 26th at
Guanica, near the southwestern corner of Porto Rico.
The expeditionary force to Porto Rico, however, consisted not of 30,000
men but of only about 15,000; and it was not fully assembled on the
island until the 8th of August. The total Spanish forces amounted to
only about 10,000, collected on the defensible ground to the north and
in the interior, so that they did not disturb the disembarkation. The
American Army which had been dispatched from large Atlantic ports,
such as Charleston and Newport News, seems to have been better and more
systematically equipped than the troops sent to Santiago. The Americans
occupied Guanica, Ponce, and Arroyo with little or no opposition, and
were soon in possession of the southern shores of the island.
Between the American forces and the main body of the enemy stretched
a range of mountains running east and west through the length of the
island. San Juan, the only fortress, which was the main objective of the
American Army, lay on the opposite side of this mountain range, on the
northern coast of the island. The approach to the fortress lay along a
road which crossed the hills and which possessed natural advantages
for defense. On the 7th of August a forward movement was begun. While
General Wilson's army advanced from Ponce along the main road toward San
Juan and General Brooke moved north from Arroyo, General Schwan was to
clear the western end of the island and work his way around to Arecibo,
toward which General Henry was to advance through the interior. The
American armies systematically worked forward, with an occasional
skirmish in which they were always victorious, and were received with
a warm welcome by the teeming native population. On the 13th of August,
General Wilson was on the point of clearing his first mountain range,
General Schwan had occupied Mayaguez, and General Henry had passed
through the mountains and was marching down the valley of the Arecibo,
when orders arrived from Washington to suspend operations.
The center of interest, however, remained in the far-away Philippines.
Dewey, who had suddenly burst upon the American people as their first
hero, remained a fixed star in their admiration, a position in which his
own good judgment and the fortunate scarcity of newspaper correspondents
served to maintain him. From him action was expected, and it had been
prepared for. Even before news arrived on the 7th of May of Dewey's
victory on the 1st of May, the Government had anticipated such a result
and had decided to send an army to support him. San Francisco was made
a rendezvous for volunteers, and on the 12th of May, General Wesley
Merritt was assigned to command the expedition. Dewey reported that he
could at any time command the surrender of Manila, but that it would be
useless unless he had troops to occupy the city.
On the 19th of May, General Merritt received the following orders: "The
destruction of the Spanish fleet at Manila, followed by the taking of
the naval station at Cavite, the paroling of the garrisons, and the
acquisition of the control of the bay, have rendered it necessary, in
the further prosecution of the measures adopted by this Government for
the purpose of bringing about an honorable and durable peace with Spain,
to send an army of occupation to the Philippines for the twofold purpose
of completing the reduction of the Spanish power in that quarter and
giving order and security to the islands while in the possession of the
United States."
On the 30th of June the first military expedition, after a bloodless
capture of the island of Guam, arrived in Manila Bay. A second
contingent arrived on the 17th of July, and on the 25th, General Merritt
himself with a third force, which brought the number of Americans up to
somewhat more than 10,000. The Spaniards had about 13,000 men guarding
the rather antiquated fortifications of old Manila and a semicircle of
blockhouses and trenches thrown about the city, which contained about
350,000 inhabitants.
It would have been easy to compel surrender or evacuation by the guns of
the fleet, had it not been for an additional element in the situation.
Manila was already besieged, or rather blockaded, on the land side, by
an army of nearly ten thousand Philippine insurgents under their shrewd
leader, Emilio Aguinaldo. It does not necessarily follow that those who
are fighting the same enemy are fighting together, and in this case
the relations between the Americans and the insurgents were far from
intimate, though Dewey had kept the situation admirably in hand until
the arrival of the American troops.
General Merritt decided to hold no direct communication with Aguinaldo
until the Americans were in possession of the city, but landed his army
to the south of Manila beyond the trenches of the Filipinos. On the
30th of July, General F. V. Greene made an informal arrangement with
the Filipino general for the removal of the insurgents from the trenches
directly in front of the American forces, and immediately advanced
beyond their original position. The situation of Manila was indeed
desperate and clearly demanded a surrender to the American forces, who
might be relied upon to preserve order and protect property. The Belgian
Consul, M. Eduard Andre, urged this course upon the Spanish commander.
The Governor-General, Fermin Jaudenes, exhibited the same spirit
which the Spanish commanders revealed throughout the war: though
constitutionally indisposed to take any bold action, he nevertheless
considered it a point of honor not to recognize the inevitable. He
allowed it to be understood that he could not surrender except to an
assault, although well knowing that such a melee might cause the city to
be ravaged by the Filipinos. M. Andre, however, succeeded by the 11th
of August in arranging a verbal understanding that the fleet should fire
upon the city and that the troops should attack, but that the Spaniards
should make no real resistance and should surrender as soon as they
considered that their honor was saved.
The chief contestants being thus amicably agreed to a spectacular but
bloodless battle, the main interest lay in the future action of the
interested and powerful spectators in the harbor. Admiral Dewey, though
relieved by the arrival of the monitor Monterey on the 4th of August,
was by no means certain that the German squadron would stand by without
interference and see the city bombarded. On the 9th of August he gave
notice of the impending action and ordered foreign vessels out of the
range of fire. On the 13th of August Dewey steamed into position before
the city. As the American vessels steamed past the British Immortalite,
her guard paraded and her band played Admiral Dewey's favorite march.
Immediately afterwards the British commander, Captain Chichester, moved
his vessels toward the city and took a position between our fleet and
the German squadron. The foreign vessels made no interference, but the
Filipinos were more restless. Eagerly watching the American assault,
they rushed forward when they saw it successful, and began firing on the
Spaniards just as the latter hoisted the white flag. They were quieted,
though with difficulty, and by nightfall the city was under the Stars
and Stripes, with American troops occupying the outworks facing the
forces of Aguinaldo, who were neither friends nor foes.
While the dispatch of Commodore Watson's fleet to Spain was still being
threatened and delayed, while General Miles was rapidly approaching
the capital of Porto Rico, and on the same day that Admiral Dewey and
General Merritt captured Manila, Spain yielded. On the 18th of July
Spain had taken the first step toward peace by asking for the good
offices of the French Government. On the 26th of July, M. Cambon, the
French Ambassador at Washington, opened negotiations with the United
States. On the 12th of August, a protocol was signed, but, owing to the
difference in time on the opposite side of the globe, to say nothing
of the absence of cable communication, not in time to prevent Dewey's
capture of Manila. This protocol provided for the meeting of peace
commissioners at Paris not later than the 1st of October. Spain agreed
immediately to evacuate and relinquish all claim to Cuba; to cede to the
United States ultimately all other islands in the West Indies, and one
in the Ladrones; and to permit the United States to "occupy and hold the
city, bay, and harbor of Manila pending the conclusion of a treaty of
peace which shall determine the control, disposition, and government of
the Philippines."
President McKinley appointed the Secretary of State, William R. Day,
as president of the peace commission, and summoned John Hay home from
England to take his place. The other commissioners were Senators
Cushman K. Davis and William P. Frye, Republicans, Senator George Gray,
Democrat, and Whitelaw Reid, the editor of the New York "Tribune".
The secretary of the commission was the distinguished student of
international law, John Bassett Moore. On most points there was general
agreement as to what they were to do. Cuba, of course, must be free. It
was, moreover, too obvious to need much argument that Spanish rule on
the American continent must come altogether to an end. As there was no
organized local movement in Porto Rico to take over the government, its
cession to the United States was universally recognized as inevitable.
Nevertheless when the two commissions met in Paris, there proved to be
two exciting subjects of controversy, and at moments it seemed possible
that the attempt to arrange a peace would prove unsuccessful. However
reassured the people were by the successful termination of the war, for
those in authority the period of anxiety had not yet entirely passed.
The first of these points was raised by the Spanish commissioners. They
maintained that the separation of Cuba from Spain involved the rending
of the Empire, and that Cuba should therefore take responsibilities as
well as freedom. The specific question was that of debts contracted by
Spain, for the security of which Cuban revenues had been pledged. There
was a manifest lack of equity in this claim, for Cuba had not been party
to the contracting of the obligations, and the money had been spent in
stifling her own desire to be free rather than on the development of her
resources. Nevertheless the Spanish commissioners could feel the
support of a sustaining public opinion about them, for the bulk of
these obligations were held in France and investors were doubtful of
the ability of Spain, if bereft of her colonies, to carry her enormous
financial burdens. The point, then, was stoutly urged, but the American
commissioners as stoutly defended the interests of their clients,
the Cubans, and held their ground. Thanks to their efforts, the Cuban
republic was born free of debt.
The other point was raised by the American commissioners, and was both
more important and more complicated, for when the negotiation began the
United States had not fully decided what it wanted. It was necessary
first to decide and then to obtain the consent of Spain with regard
to the great unsettled question of the disposition of the Philippines.
Dewey's victory came as an overwhelming surprise to the great majority
of Americans snugly encased, as they supposed themselves to be, in a
separate hemisphere. Nearly all looked upon it as a military operation
only, not likely to lead to later complications. Many discerning
individuals, however, both in this country and abroad, at once saw or
feared that occupation would lead to annexation. Carl Schurz, as early
as the 9th of May, wrote McKinley expressing the hope that "we remain
true to our promise that this is a war of deliverance and not one of
greedy ambition, conquest, self-aggrandizement." In August, Andrew
Carnegie wrote in "The North American Review" an article on "Distant
Possessions--The Parting of the Ways."
Sentiment in favor of retaining the islands, however, grew rapidly in
volume and in strength. John Hay wrote to Andrew Carnegie on the 22d
of August: "I am not allowed to say in my present fix (ministerial
responsibility) how much I agree with you. The only question in my mind
is how far it is now POSSIBLE for us to withdraw from the Philippines.
I am rather thankful it is not given to me to solve that momentous
question." On the 5th of September, he wrote to John Bigelow: "I fear
you are right about the Philippines, and I hope the Lord will be good
to us poor devils who have to take care of them. I marvel at your
suggesting that we pay for them. I should have expected no less of your
probity; but how many except those educated by you in the school of
morals and diplomacy would agree with you? Where did I pass you on the
road of life? You used to be a little my senior [twenty-one years]; now
you are ages younger and stronger than I am. And yet I am going to be
Secretary of State for a little while."
Not all those who advocated the retention of the Philippines did so
reluctantly or under the pressure of a feeling of necessity. In the very
first settlers of our country, the missionary impulse beat strong.
John Winthrop was not less intent than Cromwell on the conquest of all
humanity by his own ideals; only he believed the most efficacious
means to be the power of example instead of force. Just now there was a
renewed sense throughout the Anglo-Saxon public that it was the duty
of the civilized to promote the civilization of the backward, and the
Cromwellian method waxed in popularity. Kipling, at the summit of his
influence, appealed to a wide and powerful public in his "White Man's
Burden," which appeared in 1899.
Take up the White Man's burden--
Send forth the best ye breed--
Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness,
On fluttered folk and wild--
Your new caught, sullen peoples,
Half-devil and half-child.
Take up the White Man's burden--
And reap his old reward
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard--
The cry of hosts ye humour
(Ah, slowly!) towards the light:--
Why brought ye us from bondage,
Our loved Egyptian night?
McKinley asked those having opinions on the subject of this burden to
write to him, and a strong call for the United States to take up her
share in the regeneration of mankind came from important representatives
of the religious public. Nor was the attitude of those different who saw
the possibilities of increased traffic with the East. The expansion of
the area of home distribution seemed a halfway house between the purely
nationalistic policy, which was becoming a little irksome, and the
competition of the open world.
It was not, however, the urging of these forces alone which made the
undecided feel that the annexation of the Philippines was bound to
come. The situation itself seemed to offer no other solution. Gradually
evidence as to the local conditions reached America. The Administration
was anxious for the commissioners to have the latest information, and,
as Admiral Dewey remained indispensable at Manila, General Merritt was
ordered to report at Paris, where he arrived on the 6th of October. He
was of the opinion that the Americans must remain in the Philippines,
and his reports were sustained by a cablegram from Dewey on the 14th
of October reading: "Spanish authority has been completely destroyed in
Luzon, and general anarchy prevails without the limits of the city and
Bay of Manila. Strongly probable that islands to the south will fall
into the same state soon." The history of the previous few years and
existing conditions made it highly improbable that Spanish domination
could ever be restored. The withdrawal of the United States would
therefore not mean the reestablishment of Spanish rule but no government
at all.
As to the regime which would result from our withdrawal, Admiral Dewey
judged from the condition of those areas where Spanish authority had
already ceased and that of the Americans had not yet been established.
"Distressing reports," he cabled, "have been received of inhuman cruelty
practised on religious and civil authorities in other parts of these
islands. The natives appear unable to govern." It was highly probable,
in fact, that if the United States did not take the islands, Spain would
sell her vanishing equity in the property to some other power which
possessed the equipment necessary to conquer the Philippines. To many
this eventuality did not seem objectionable, as is indicated by the
remark, already quoted, of an American official to certain Germans: "We
don't want the Philippines; why don't you take them?" That this attitude
was foolishly Quixotic is obvious, but more effective in the molding of
public opinion was the feeling that it was cowardly.
In such a changing condition of public sentiment, McKinley was a better
index of what the majority wanted than a referendum could have been. In
August he stated: "I do not want any ambiguity to be allowed to remain
on this point. The negotiators of both countries are the ones who
shall resolve upon the permanent advantages which we shall ask in
the archipelago, and decide upon the intervention, disposition, and
government of the Philippines." His instructions to the commissioners
actually went farther:
"Avowing unreservedly the purpose which has animated all our effort, and
still solicitous to adhere to it, we cannot be unmindful that, without
any desire or design on our part, the war has brought us new duties and
responsibilities which we must meet and discharge as becomes a great
nation on whose growth and career from the beginning the Ruler of
Nations has plainly written the high command and pledge of civilization.
"Incidental to our tenure in the Philippines is the commercial
opportunity to which American statesmanship cannot be indifferent....
Asking only the open door for ourselves, we are ready to accord the open
door to others.
"In view of what has been stated, the United States cannot accept less
than the cession in full rights and sovereignty of the island of Luzon."
The American commissioners were divided. Day favored the limited terms
of the instructions; Davis, Frye, and Reid wished the whole group of the
Philippines; Gray emphatically protested against taking any part of the
islands. On the 26th of October, Hay telegraphed that the President had
decided that "the cession must be of the whole Archipelago or none."
The Spanish commissioners objected strongly to this new development,
and threatened to break off the negotiations which otherwise were
practically concluded. This outcome would have put the United States in
the unfortunate position of continuing a war which it had begun in the
interests of Cuba for the quite different purpose of securing possession
of the Philippines. The Spanish were probably not without hopes that
under these changed conditions they might be able to bring to their
active assistance that latent sympathy for them which existed so
strongly in Europe. Nor was the basis of the claim of the United States
entirely clear. On the 3d of November the American commissioners cabled
to the President that they were convinced that the occupation of Manila
did not constitute a conquest of the islands as a whole.
By this time, however, the President had decided that the United States
must have the islands. On the 13th of November, Hay telegraphed that the
United States was entitled to an indemnity for the cost of the war. This
argument was not put forward because the United States wished indemnity
but to give a technical basis for the American claim to the Philippines.
In the same cablegram, Hay instructed the commissioners to offer Spain
ten or twenty millions for all the islands. Upon this financial basis
the treaty was finally concluded; it was signed on December 10, 1898;
and ratifications were exchanged on April 11, 1899.
The terms of the treaty provided, first, for the relinquishment of
sovereignty over Cuba by Spain. The island was to be occupied by the
United States, in whose hands its subsequent disposition was left. All
other Spanish islands in the West Indies, together with Guam in the
Ladrones, were ceded to the United States. The whole archipelago of the
Philippines, with water boundaries carefully but not quite accurately
drawn, was ceded to the United States, which by the same article agreed
to pay Spain $20,000,000. All claims for indemnity or damages between
the two nations, or either nation and the citizens of the other, were
mutually relinquished, the United States assuming the adjudication and
settlement of all claims of her own citizens against Spain.
This treaty, even more than the act of war, marked a turning point in
the relation of the United States to the outside world. So violent was
the opposition of those who disapproved, and so great the reluctance of
even the majority of those who approved, to acknowledge that the United
States had emerged from the isolated path which it had been treading
since 1823, that every effort was made to minimize the significance of
the beginning of a new era in American history. It was argued by those
delving into the past that the Philippines actually belonged to the
Western Hemisphere because the famous demarcation line drawn by Pope
Alexander VI, in 1493, ran to the west of them; it was, indeed, partly
in consequence of that line that Spain had possessed the islands. Before
Spain lost Mexico her Philippine trade had actually passed across the
Pacific, through the Mexican port of Acapulco, and across the Atlantic.
Yet these interesting historical facts were scarcely related in the
mind of the public to the more immediate and tangible fact that the
annexation of the Philippines gave the United States a far-flung
territory situated just where all the powerful nations of the world were
then centering their interest.
In opposition to those who disapproved of this extension of territory,
it was argued more cogently that, in spite of the prevailing belief
of the thirty preceding years, the United States had always been
an expanding power, stretching its authority over new areas with a
persistency and rapidity hardly equaled by any other nation, and that
this latest step was but a new stride in the natural expansion of the
United States. But here again the similarity between the former and
the most recent steps was more apparent than real. Louisiana, Florida,
Texas, California, and Oregon, had all been parts of an obvious
geographical whole. Alaska, indeed, was detached, but its acquisition
had been partly accidental, and it was at least a part of the American
continent and would, in the opinion of many, eventually become
contiguous by the probable annexation of Canada. Moreover, none of the
areas so far occupied by the United States had been really populated. It
had been a logical expectation that American people would soon overflow
these acquired lands and assimilate the inhabitants. In the case of the
Philippines, on the other hand, it was fully recognized that Americans
could at most be only a small governing class, and that even Porto Rico,
accessible as it was, would prove too thickly settled to give hopes of
Americanization.
The terms of the treaty with Spain, indeed, recognized these
differences. In all previous instances, except Alaska, the added
territory had been incorporated into the body of the United States with
the expectation, now realized except in Hawaii, of reaching the position
of self-governing and participating States of the Union. Even in the
case of Alaska it had been provided that all inhabitants remaining in
residence, except uncivilized Indians, should become citizens of the
United States. In the case of these new annexations resulting from the
war with Spain, provision was made only for the religious freedom of
the inhabitants. "The civil rights and political status of the native
inhabitants of the territories hereby ceded to the United States shall
be determined by the Congress." There could therefore be no doubt that
for the first time the United States had acquired colonies and that the
question whether they should develop into integral parts of the country
or into dependencies of an imperialistic republic was left to the future
to decide.
It was but natural that such striking events and important decisions
should loom large as factors in the following presidential campaign. The
Republicans endorsed the Administration, emphatically stated that the
independence and self-government of Cuba must be secured, and, with
reference to the other islands, declared that "the largest measure of
self-government consistent with their welfare and our duties shall be
secured to them by law." The Democrats asserted that "no nation can
long endure half republic and half empire," and favored "an immediate
declaration of the Nation's purpose to give the Filipinos, first, a
stable form of government; second, independence; and third, protection
from outside interference such as has been given for nearly a century
to the republics of Central and South America." The Democrats were at a
disadvantage owing to the fact that, since so much had been irrevocably
accomplished, they could not raise the whole issue of colonial expansion
but only advocate a different policy for the handling of what seemed to
most people to be details. The distrust which their financial program
of 1896 had excited, moreover, still hung over them and repelled
many voters who might have supported them on questions of foreign and
colonial policies. Nevertheless the reflection of President McKinley
by a greatly increased majority must be taken as indicating that the
American people generally approved of his policies and accepted the
momentous changes which had been brought about by the successful
conclusion of the war with Spain.