WAR WITH THE UNITED STATES.
President McKinley had opposed the inclination of the people for
immediate hostilities, and did not sanction an appeal to the
arbitrament of battle until he had exhausted every device of diplomacy;
yet, when once committed to war, he was most energetic in his efforts
to prepare the country for its task. Himself a soldier, having served
gallantly through the civil war between the States, he knew the value
of immediate action. On the 22d of April he issued a proclamation
declaring the principal ports of Cuba in a state of blockade, and on
the 23d, a call for one hundred and twenty–five thousand volunteers
to serve for two years or the war. A further call was later issued,
raising the number of volunteers to two hundred thousand, and this
appeal was eagerly responded to by the patriotic people. They showed
the sincerity of their convictions by their acts, and the quotas of
the various States were rapidly filled; camps of instruction were
established in the East and South; arsenals, foundries, shipyards, and
all branches of military and naval construction, were soon the scenes
of unsurpassed activity.
In a message to Congress, in 1898, President McKinley had said: “The
long trial has proved that the object for which Spain has waged the war
can not be attained. The fire of insurrection may flame or may smoulder
with varying seasons, but it has not been, and it is plain that it
can not be, extinguished by present methods. The only hope of relief
and repose from a condition which can no longer be endured is the
enforced pacification of Cuba. In the name of humanity, in the name of
civilization, in behalf of endangered American interests which give us
the right and the duty to speak and to act, the war in Cuba must stop.”
“In view of all this, the Congress was asked to authorize and empower
the President to take measures to secure a final termination of
hostilities between Spain and the people of Cuba, and to secure in the
island the establishment of a stable government, capable of maintaining
order, observing its international obligations, insuring peace and
tranquility, the security of its citizens as well as our own, and for
the accomplishment of those ends to use the military and naval forces
of the United States as might be necessary; with added authority to
continue generous relief to the starving people of Cuba.”
The response of the Congress, after nine days of earnest deliberation,
was to pass the memorable joint resolution declaring:
“First, That the people of the island of Cuba are, and of right ought
to be, free and independent.
“Second, That it is the duty of the United States to demand, and the
Government of the United States does hereby demand, that the Government
of Spain at once relinquish its authority and government in the island
of Cuba and withdraw its land and naval forces from Cuba and Cuban
waters.
“Third, That the President of the United States be, and he hereby is,
directed and empowered to use the entire land and naval forces of the
United States, and to call into the actual service of the United States
the militia of the several States, to such extent as may be necessary
to carry these resolutions into effect.
“Fourth, That the United States hereby disclaims any disposition
or intention to exercise sovereignty, jurisdiction, or control over
said island except for the pacification thereof, and asserts its
determination when that is accomplished to leave the government and
control of the island to its people.”
This resolution was approved by the Executive on the next day, April
20th. A copy was at once communicated to the Spanish minister at the
capital, who forthwith announced that his continuance in Washington
had thereby become impossible, and asked for his passports, which
were given him. He thereupon withdrew from Washington, leaving the
protection of Spanish interests in the United States to the French
ambassador and the Austro–Hungarian minister.
Congress had voted the President, in anticipation of war and the
necessity for preparation, the sum of fifty million dollars, to be
used at his discretion; and this money was soon spent for powder,
guns, forts, and mines, for coast defence, auxiliary ships for the
navy, cannon, army and naval stores, medicines in vast quantities, and
clothing for the new recruits.
“Under the direction of the Chief of Engineers, submarine mines were
placed at the most exposed points. Before the outbreak of war permanent
mining casemates and cable galleries had been constructed at nearly
all important harbours. Most of the torpedo material was not to be
found in the market, and had to be specially manufactured. Under date
of April 19th, district officers were directed to take all preliminary
measures, short of the actual attaching of the loaded mines to the
cables, and on April 22d telegraphic orders were issued to place the
loaded mines in position. The aggregate number of mines placed was
1,535, at the principal harbours from Maine to California.”
The standing army of the United States in time of peace did not exceed
twenty–five thousand men, but the State militia afforded drafts of
soldiers who were soon converted into good fighting material in the
various camps of instruction.
One beneficent effect of this appeal to arms in support of a cause
which enlisted the highest sympathies, was the obliteration of all
sectional lines that had existed on account of the civil war between
the States. Many Confederate veterans, who had fought against the
Union, now hastened to offer their services in its defence. A wave of
patriotism swept the country from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from
the Great Lakes to the Florida Channel. The solidarity of the country
was made apparent when such brave officers of the civil war as Generals
Lee and Wheeler, who had fought on the “losing side,” sought and
obtained positions of a rank commensurate with their great abilities.
It was conclusively shown that the Americans had not, as often charged
by their enemies, become weak and effeminate in sordid pursuits, and
lost to all sense of honour and moral obligations.
The nation, then, responded nobly to the President’s call for soldiers
and supplies, and within a week its naval vessels were blockading the
ports of Cuba, and its armies moving southward to a base whence they
could promptly invade the enemy’s territory. On the 27th of April the
Spanish batteries of Matanzas, Cuba, were shelled by Admiral Sampson’s
flagship, the New York, and other war vessels, though without any
material advantage. On the 29th of April a Spanish fleet, commanded by
Admiral Cervera, and consisting of four armoured cruisers and three
torpedo boats and “destroyers,” left port in the Cape de Verde Islands
and sailed for West Indian waters.
At the outset it was believed that the Spanish navy was vastly superior
to that of the United States, for there were several battle ships of
vast tonnage and heaviest armament, and cruisers of greater speed than
any possessed by the Americans. So, when it was at first rumoured, then
asserted as a certainty, that a formidable Spanish fleet was headed
toward American shores, all was anxiety along the Atlantic coast.
Nothing is more certain than that the Spaniards, had they but possessed
the necessary dash and vigour, might have ravaged a portion of the
coast and destroyed several cities before their enemies’ scattered
fleets could have concentrated to destroy them. But while at the outset
Spain had cruisers and battle ships, torpedo boats and “destroyers,”
in numbers exceeding their opponents, yet there was one factor she had
overlooked—the men who manned the ships and trained the guns! While
the American navy was at first inferior, in guns and ships, to that of
Spain, yet the men had been trained to a higher state of efficiency,
than the Spanish sailors, as will be shown a little later on.
But while a state of terrible suspense prevailed regarding the
whereabouts of Admiral Cervera’s Spanish fleet, then presumably on its
way to destroy the coast cities of the United States, there transpired
something in the far–away isles of the Pacific that at once dissipated
the gloom and restored confidence.
When, at the outbreak of the war, Great Britain declared all her ports
neutral—that is, not open to war vessels of either combatant—the
United States Asiatic squadron, consisting of four protected cruisers,
two gunboats, and a despatch boat, was lying in the British port of
Hong Kong. Driven out of this port by the proclamation of neutrality,
Commodore George Dewey, in command of the squadron, acting under orders
from Washington, steamed direct for the Philippine Islands, valuable
possessions of Spain, discovered by Magellan in 1521, and settled by
Spaniards in 1565. He may have had orders to go to the Philippines in
any event; but now that he was deprived of a port, Commodore Dewey
felt constrained to take possession of another; so at daylight on
the morning of the 1st of May, 1898, his little fleet was discovered
by Spaniards on the watch groping its way, over sunken mines and
between defensive batteries, into the bay of Manila! The rich city of
Manila, and perhaps the entire Philippine chain, consisting of about
two thousand islands, was to be the ultimate prize; but the immediate
objective was the Spanish fleet assembled for the protection of the
capital. This fleet, consisting of seven cruisers and several gunboats,
was at last discovered by Commodore Dewey, drawn up in battle array in
the harbour of Cavité, an inlet of Manila Bay, and at once attacked.[2]
Then ensued a scene of carnage, and ultimately a victory, which was,
perhaps, all things considered, without a parallel in history. For,
though the opposing vessels were very well matched, and their crews
were about the same in number, in a few hours every Spanish ship
was either blown up or sunk, and the land batteries of Cavité were
completely silenced! The Spanish loss was terrible, amounting to three
hundred and eighty–one in killed and wounded; but on the American side
not one was killed, only nine were wounded, and eventually every man
returned to duty!
Such a decisive victory for the Americans, and such a crushing defeat
for Spain, had its effect upon the respective countries, raising the
spirits of the “Yankees,” and correspondingly depressing those of
the Spaniards. The city of Manila, which was dependent upon the fleet
for its protection, was now absolutely at the mercy of the American
commodore; but he, as merciful as he was brave and invincible,
refrained from bombarding it, preferring to await the arrival of
troops for its capture. As soon as possible troops were despatched
to the Philippines; but it was the last week in May before the first
were aboard the transports, and about a month more before they arrived
at Manila. Eventually some twenty thousand American troops were
concentrated at Manila, and then the city was assaulted and captured,
on August 13th, by the combined action of the army and navy.
It was a strange chance that threw the Philippines into the hands
of the United States; for, in the first place, it is said that
when the New World was divided between Portugal and Spain, by the
celebrated “bull” of Pope Alexander VI, in 1493 (according to which
all discoveries after that west of an ideal meridian were to belong to
Spain, and those east to Portugal), the Philippines would rightfully
have fallen to the last–named country. But by a mistake of Magellan,
their discoverer, they were placed twenty or thirty degrees nearer to
America than they really were, and the error was never rectified. So,
through an error of the great Magellan, and the prowess of the gallant
Dewey, the United States were put in possession of one of Spain’s most
valuable colonies.
It is said that republics are ungrateful; but if the American Republic
has been open to that accusation in the past, it nobly redeemed itself
during the campaign against the Spaniards. Commodore Dewey was at once
advanced to the rank of rear admiral, and the thanks of the nation
were conveyed by its President to the brave sailors under him, with
the promise of substantial emoluments later on. The moral effect of
this victory was vastly greater than the mere material acquisitions;
for it corrected a long–existent misapprehension in Europe as to our
abilities, and advanced us at once an immeasurable distance in its
estimation.
Meanwhile in the United States every effort was still put forth to
equip the armies, to perfect the fleets, and to bring the conflict to
an early and honourable close. Without animosity toward their foes,
with the highest motives and incentives, the Americans yet relaxed no
endeavour in the vigorous prosecution of the war.
The first American victims fell on May 11th, in an engagement with the
batteries of Cardenas, Cuba, when, Ensign Bagley and four sailors on
the gunboat Winslow were killed by Spanish shells; and the next day,
in the bombardment of San Juan, Puerto Rico, one sailor was killed.
This bombardment was merely an incident in the search of our fleets
for Admiral Cervera’s squadron, the whereabouts of which remained a
mystery for three long weeks. During this time a “flying squadron” was
organized and held at Newport News, under command of Commodore Schley,
ready to steam to the succour of whatever point should be menaced by
the Spanish ships, either North or South. At last it became known that
the Spaniards had been seen in the West Indies, and the flying squadron
sailed for those waters. Admiral Sampson meanwhile was cruising in the
Caribbean Sea, seeking an engagement with the Spanish fleet; and as
it was thought that the enemy might seek shelter at San Juan, a port
on the north side of the island of Puerto Rico, it was visited; but
with no result other than the bombardment of the fortifications by the
American fleet, though without inflicting any material injury.
Word came at last that Admiral Cervera had, in a roundabout way, safely
reached the landlocked harbour of Santiago de Cuba on May 19th, and
there he was “bottled up,” a few days later, by the flying squadron,
which was soon re–enforced by the fleet under Admiral Sampson, who took
command. Even then, there was much doubt as to the actual location
of the Spanish squadron, until Lieutenant Victor Blue by a daring
reconnoissance penetrated the enemy’s lines, at the risk of being
captured and shot as a spy, and ascertained beyond peradventure that
the fleet was in the harbour of Santiago.
While the United States Government had been concentrating troops at
Tampa, and its fleets at Key West and off the port of Havana, yet it
was apparently uncertain at which point to invade Cuban soil, until
the arrival of the Spanish fleet at Santiago suddenly determined
the future theatre of war. As the destruction of Admiral Cervera’s
powerful squadron was of more importance than anything else, all the
energies of the Government were now put forth to accomplish it. The
fleet under command of Admiral Sampson included the largest and most
heavily armoured cruisers and battle ships, besides smaller craft, as
gunboats and torpedo destroyers. Added to these, the splendid battle
ship Oregon, which had been ordered from San Francisco to the theatre
of war, arrived during the blockade of Santiago after a memorable “run”
around South America and through the Caribbean Sea. Thus the American
admiral had a fleet vastly superior to that within the harbour; but the
problem was, how to get at it! Securely intrenched behind the frowning
hills around the harbour entrance, which latter was filled with
torpedoes and submarine mines, the Spanish squadron was for the time
safe from harm.
A constant watch was kept on the narrow entrance to Santiago’s harbour,
on one side guarded by the ancient Morro Castle, and on the other
by more modern batteries, upon which at night were trained powerful
electric search–lights; and not a moment passed during any twenty–four
hours in which the captive squadron could have escaped unobserved from
the trap in which it was caught.
The actual invasion of Cuba was begun on the 10th of June at the bay
of Guantanamo, to the eastward of Santiago, by a force of six hundred
marines, when several men were killed before a secure camp could be
obtained. Among the great results of this occupation was the capture of
the submarine cable station, by means of which fleet and army were soon
put in communication with Washington.
On the 3d of June a deed of heroism was performed in the sinking of
the collier Merrimac across the narrow channel of Santiago harbour by
Lieutenant Hobson and a crew of seven men. This was done under a heavy
fire from the Spanish batteries, and while exposed to the torpedoes
set off by the enemy when they discovered this attempt to obstruct
the channel. Lieutenant Hobson and his men escaped death almost by a
miracle, only to fall into the hands of the enemy, by whom they were
taken to the Morro and imprisoned. The attempt to block the channel
and thus absolutely prevent the escape of the squadron within, was
unavailing; but this does not render the deed the less heroic. And
to show of what material the American navy is composed—a navy that
has been derided by Europe and made the object of ridicule by some
citizen politicians—it was reported that hundreds volunteered for this
desperate enterprise, even though well aware that it meant to those who
took part in it almost certain death!
In response to the request of Admiral Sampson, who represented that
he would not risk forcing the harbour entrance, filled as it was
with mines, an expedition of sixteen thousand men was soon afloat on
transports in Tampa harbour, Florida, and after long delays, reached
the coast of Cuba, off Santiago, on the 22d of June. These troops,
comprising the Fifth Army Corps, commanded by General Shafter, were
soon landed at Baiquiri and Siboney, despite the tremendous surf, and
lost no time in possessing themselves of the country adjacent.
As time was precious, the troops of General Shafter’s command were
landed rapidly, each man with three days’ rations and two hundred
rounds of ammunition, and the van was pushing for Santiago while the
rear was disembarking. They encountered little opposition at first,
and the second day, or on the 23d of June, a base of operations was
secured by the capture of Juragua. On the 24th the first blood was
spilled, when the dismounted cavalry, known as the Rough Riders, were
attacked, several miles beyond the most advanced position, at La
Guasimas, and lost sixteen in killed and fifty–two wounded. This attack
by the Spaniards upon troops struggling through a tropical thicket was
referred to by the men themselves as merely a skirmish, and did not for
a moment cause them to falter.
The Spaniards withdrew from their advanced positions, and a few days
after the skirmish at La Guasimas eight thousand troops, under Generals
Wheeler and Lawton, occupied the hamlet of Sevilla without opposition.
The first great battle was a week later, on the 1st of July, when
a general advance was ordered upon the outworks of Santiago. Two
important positions were taken and held, that of El Caney by General
Lawton, consisting of a strong blockhouse defended by rifle pits,
and San Juan Hill by General Kent. Both positions were gallantly and
obstinately defended by the Spaniards, and it was only after repeated
charges by our troops that they were taken. The charge up the steep
slopes of San Juan Hill, led by Colonel Roosevelt, compelled the
unstinted admiration of the foreign _attachés_ representing various
European governments, who could not sufficiently praise the gallant
“initiative,” as they called it, of the American soldier. After two
days’ hard fighting the men intrenched and lay down on their arms, with
a loss of two hundred and thirty killed and more than twelve hundred
wounded. Volunteers and regulars vied with each other in deeds of
bravery, in individual heroism, and it would be impossible to mention
every hero of this fight. The Spaniards fought well also, and as they
possessed weapons superior to those of the Americans, and cartridges
loaded with smokeless powder, and were in the main sheltered behind
intrenchments, they had a great advantage.
Within the fortifications of Santiago were about fifteen thousand
soldiers under General Linares; without, as many Americans under
General Shafter, who by two days of fighting had gained positions
whence they could command the city. Re–enforcements were constantly
arriving, and soon the heavy siege guns would be brought to the front
and the Spaniards driven from the forts and intrenchments. At first a
general assault was contemplated by the Americans, but this idea was
abandoned when it was found that the enemy was so strongly intrenched,
so desperate, and equipped with superior arms.
While the American general was undecided what to do, a new diversion
was caused, on the morning of July 3d, by the fleet of Admiral Cervera
making a sudden dash for liberty. The admiral’s position had become,
or soon would become, untenable, and he was forced to the desperate
determination to fly out in the face of the Yankee war ships and take
the one chance for liberty. About half past nine in the morning the
lookout on the battle ship Texas gave the alarm: “The fleet is coming
out!” Signals were set, but the black smoke from the funnels of the
fleet betrayed their design, and the battle ships Iowa and Oregon, and
the armoured cruiser Brooklyn, at once hastened with all steam toward
the harbour entrance.
It was a magnificent spectacle: that of the gathering war ships
speeding toward the Spanish squadron, which, with the Infanta Maria
Teresa, Admiral Cervera’s flagship, in the lead, followed by the
Cristobal Colon, the Vizcaya, the Almirante Oquendo, and the two
torpedo destroyers Furor and Pluton, steamed slowly into view, and
then, with increasing speed, turned down the western coast.
What followed then was a test of speed and endurance, for it had
long been maintained that the Spanish war ships were the superiors
of the American in these respects. What then ensued quickly proved
the contrary to be true, for within one short hour three of the
great battle ships were driven ashore and sunk, riddled with shells,
and with flames bursting from every port. The Texas, Oregon, Iowa,
and Brooklyn dashed upon them like eagles swooping upon their prey,
pouring in terrible broadsides and sweeping their decks with their
rapid–fire guns. The great thirteen–inch shells tore through the belts
of steel armour, smashed the boilers and machinery, setting fire to the
magazines, and in a short time completely disabling the pride and boast
of the Spanish navy. The two torpedo destroyers, which had been so much
exploited as terrors of the sea, were disposed of in a few minutes by
the Texas, Iowa, and Gloucester, and sunk with a loss of two thirds of
their crews. Meanwhile, the Cristobal Colon, the only ship remaining,
was speeding along the coast, with the Oregon and Brooklyn, followed
by the New York, Admiral Sampson’s flagship, in close pursuit. But it
was a vain attempt at escape; about fifty miles from the harbour of
Santiago the Colon was driven ashore, shattered by shells and on fire
in many places. This was at one o’clock, and thus it had taken less
than five hours for the glorious Yankee ships with their gallant crews
to destroy the Spanish squadron and capture its officers and crews.
And this was effected with a loss to the victor of but one man killed,
while the losses of the Spaniards amounted to more than six hundred
killed and thirteen hundred prisoners!
This disparity in casualties might be considered miraculous were it
not for the notorious fact that Spanish gunners can not shoot, and
that on this particular occasion many of them were intoxicated and
fired wildly; while the Yankee sailors, trained by long practice, made
all their shots “tell” with terrible effect. It was then seen that,
more than to battle ships and belts of armour, more than to speed and
calibre of cannon, the American nation was indebted for victory to the
men behind the guns! The Spaniards were brave even to rashness; they
may have fought equally well with the Americans, yet they did not
possess their skill, their tenacity of purpose, their intelligence.
It was a glorious victory, yet tempered with regret for the fallen
foe. The national sentiment of pity and sympathy was voiced by Captain
Philip, of the Texas, who, when his crew sent up shouts of exultation
at the sight of the shattered Vizcaya’s men driven from their guns by
an explosion, cried out: “Don’t cheer, boys; those poor fellows are
dying!” And every effort was put forth to save the survivors, by those
who so recently had been intent upon their destruction.
[Illustration]