INTRODUCTORY

I.

The Spanish-American War has passed into history. Regiment by regiment the troops of the United States have been transported to Cuba and Porto Rico, to take quiet possession of the stations relinquished by the departing remnants of the Spanish colonial army, and now our flag flies over even Havana itself. Of the six regiments—the First Heavy Artillery, Second, Fifth, Sixth, Eighth, and Ninth Infantry—sent out by Massachusetts in response to the calls of the President, all now are home again, while the officers and men of the gallant Naval Brigade have returned from their service afloat on cruiser and monitor to rejoin the command from which they volunteered. Gradually, but none the less surely, the stirring events of the spring and summer of 1898 are becoming but memories—memories to be recalled in years to come at the reunions of those who served together in the war so happily brought to a conclusion.

Even today, after the lapse of but a year, it has become difficult, if not impossible, to realize the state of public feeling in Boston on that wet, raw day in April, 1898, when the First Massachusetts Heavy Artillery, then a militia regiment, marched solidly and grimly through the muddy streets on its way to Fort Warren. The sight of the long, blue column—officers on foot, men in heavy marching order—told more plainly than any telegraphic despatch that the long-expected war had come at last. Day by day the feeling of uneasiness in the cities and towns along the New England coast had been growing in intensity. Bombardment insurance was being written, securities and valuables were being removed from the safe-deposit vaults of shore cities to those of inland towns, while letters by the hundred, and delegations by the score were coming to the governors of coast States, praying for protection against naval raids. As in 1812, and as again in 1861, the authorities at Washington were overwhelmed with petitions for the naval protection of local interests, and—even as in former wars—they were compelled to reply that the few ships of war on the navy list could not be spared to do the work of shore batteries. The entire fleet of battleships, modern monitors, and cruisers barely sufficed for the composition of Dewey's squadron in the far East, of Sampson's and Schley's in the West Indies.

Nor was this wide-spread feeling of alarm entirely without foundation, or due to unreasoning fear. More than one foreign service journal had reckoned the opposing fleets as nearly of equal strength, and even our own Captain Mahan now writes: "The force of the Spanish navy on paper, as the expression goes, was so nearly equal to our own, that it was well within the limits of possibility that an unlucky incident, the loss, for example, of a battleship, might make the Spaniard superior in nominal, or even in actual, available force. Where so much is at stake as the result of a war, or even the unnecessary prolongation of war, with its sufferings and anxieties, the only safe rule is to regard the apparent as the actual, until its reality has been tested." We are looking backward now; then we were looking forward. We now know, through the supreme tests of May 1st and July 3d, that the paper strength and the fighting strength of the Spanish navy were two widely differing qualities; but late in April, 1898, all this yet remained to be determined, and the memorable rush of the Oregon from the far Pacific bears witness that the Navy Department recognized the preponderance that might be given by the addition of even a single fighting-ship to our force on the threatened Atlantic sea-board.

Of the result of a general fleet action the country had small doubt; it was the possibility of sudden and unexpected naval raids that caused concern. The words of the English naval critic, Steevens, applied with tenfold force to our own case: "It is tolerably obvious that no superiority in the world could guarantee our whole empire against raids by hostile cruisers. A fast cruiser could break the closest blockade possible in the days of torpedo boats, and though she would stand to meet and be engaged by a cruiser or cruisers of our own, yet she would also stand to elude them. She might then shell or lay under contribution unprotected coast towns, destroy shipping lying in their harbors, or making for or from them, besides landing small forces to do serious, if not vital damage." And this fact was recognized no better by any one than by Admiral Cervera himself, who, in a letter written in February, 1898, after deploring the lack of Spanish naval preparation, said: "Under such conditions, a campaign would be disastrous, if not an offensive one, and all that could be done in an offensive war would be to make some raids with a few fast vessels."

Reduced to its lowest terms, the situation confronting the authorities was this: the Spanish naval list showed—either in commission or building—nine 20-knot cruisers,[[1]] heavily armed and armored, and theoretically able to run away easily from any armored ships in our establishment save the Brooklyn and New York, while (still theoretically) capable of whipping without effort these two latter cruisers, if brought to bay. Furthermore, the operations of the army and navy, in the West Indies and the Philippines, imperatively required the services of every modern fighting-ship at our disposal, and thus the long stretch of Atlantic coast, with its teeming harbors and populous cities, practically was left at the mercy of any chance squadron of swift cruisers, or even—at least in the earlier days of the war—of possible raids by privateers or wandering torpedo-gunboats. There was, it is true, the hastily improvised and costly coast-patrol fleet, of something over forty vessels—monitor relics of the '60's, armed yachts, ferry-boats, and tugs—distributed along the coast at stations from Eastport to New Orleans, but this heterogeneous outfit was brought into existence rather for scouting than for fighting. As a factor in actual resistance to determined naval attack it called for no serious consideration, and as a matter of record its organization was not complete until the 16th of June, when the dreaded Vizcaya, with her sister ships, finally had been marked down and safely penned in the harbor of Santiago.

[1]. Almirante Oquendo, Cardenal Cisneros, Cataluna, Cristobal Colon, Emperador Carlos V., Infanta Maria Teresa, Pedro d'Aragon, Princesa de Asturias, Vizcaya.—"Brassey's Naval Annual," 1897.

It was evident that the coast States, in the impending emergency, must turn for comfort from the Navy to the War Department, and it soon became most painfully evident that the prospect of obtaining any immediate aid from this quarter was far from reassuring. This especially was true in the case of the New England States, and notably so in that of Massachusetts. To make a broad statement, modern defensive works, modern sea-coast guns, and trained artillerymen to man them, were lacking. In other words, the apathy of thirty years had borne its legitimate fruit: the Congressmen of New England—with honorable exceptions, like Senators Hawley and Lodge—while ever willing to exert themselves in favor of "Protection" of the commercial variety, had been sublimely indifferent to their duty in providing protection of another and very vital sort, and their constituents, in consequence, were enabled to enjoy the sensation of a war-scare which was far from being unwarranted. For it did not require a high order of intellect to comprehend that thirty days would not suffice for the accomplishment of the work of ten years—nor, indeed, could any one furnish a satisfactory guarantee of even thirty days' freedom from attack.

THE COAST-DEFENCE PROBLEM IN
MASSACHUSETTS

II.

Early in April, when war was imminent, Governor Wolcott, with two officers of his staff, sat down to the study of a war-map of the Massachusetts coast which had been prepared and carefully revised to meet existing conditions. It is no exaggeration to say that this map furnished material for the most serious thought. The map pitilessly showed that from the Merrimac River, on the northern boundary, to the Taunton River, on the southern, there were on navigable waters, open to some of the many forms of naval attack—whether by fleet bombardment, cruiser raid, or torpedo-boat dash—no less than forty-one cities and towns, none with less than one thousand of population, whose inhabitants aggregated one million seventy-seven thousand, or over forty-three per cent. of the population of the State. Furthermore, it appeared that, at a low estimate, the property interests exposed in these towns reached the enormous sum of $1,586,775,000—surely a tempting bait for any adventurous naval commander in the service of a desperate and bankrupt enemy.

But the map relentlessly showed more than this: it demonstrated the absolutely defenceless condition of this rich strip of coast. At Boston there were indications of a rudimentary defence; at New Bedford stood the obsolete granite walls of old Fort Rodman; Fall River was protected by the guns at Fort Adams and the batteries at Dutch Island; but elsewhere along the coast there was not to be found even the pretence of preparation for the surely coming war.

The obsolete defenses, however, were not alone in giving cause for grave concern. The question of manning them had to be considered. As a matter of record, there were scattered along the coast from Fort Preble, Me., to Fort Trumbull, Conn., eight batteries—one ("F") a light battery—of the Second Artillery, whose duty-strength on the 16th of April may have been approximately six hundred men. There were but three of these batteries on duty on the Massachusetts coast—"C" (Schenck's) and "M" (Richmond's) at Fort Warren; "G" (Niles') at the yet incomplete battery at Long Island Head, Boston Harbor. Where more trained gunners were to be had was problematical. The bill providing for the organization of the Sixth and Seventh Regiments of regular artillery had been passed by Congress as late as March 7th, and these new commands were only in process of evolution. It was not until the 16th of May that the first of the newly raised batteries took station in New England, and even then its standard of efficiency was low, owing to the heavy percentage of recruits in its ranks.

The condition of affairs in Boston Harbor was most interesting. Here was a city with an estimated population of five hundred and fifty thousand; with an assessed valuation of $1,012,750,000; with business interests to be reckoned by daily bank-clearings of $20,000,000; with annual exports and imports of $189,879,839—in short, the second seaport of the country in commercial rank. Naturally it would be expected that the general Government, which hardly could be ignorant of the enormous interests just shown, would have made some pretence at giving them adequate protection. But what were the grim facts in the case?

In 1886, the so-called Endicott Board on Fortifications—whose scheme of defence, with some minor modifications, still remains the standard project for the erection of our coast works—recommended an expenditure of $10,910,250 for the defenses of Boston Harbor. This sum covered the cost of guns, mounts, emplacements, submarine mines, and a flotilla of eighteen torpedo-boats for local service. Large as it may seem, it yet represents a levy of but one and seven-hundredths per cent. on the assessed valuation of the property exposed at this port, and furthermore it was intended that its expenditure should be distributed through a period of ten years. How faithfully this programme was carried out by the authorities at Washington may be shown by the following table, in which the first column of figures indicates the number of breech-loading rifles and mortars required by the complete scheme of defence, while the second exhibits those actually mounted for service during the late war:

ProposedMounted
16-inch B. L. R.80
12-inch B. L. R.100
10-inch B. L. R.158
 8-inch B. L. R.100
12-inch B. L. M.13216
-----
Total of pieces17524

In other words, of the projected scheme of defence—so far as concerned the main element, gun and mortar fire—there remained to be put into operation the trifling matter of eighty-six per cent.! In twelve years elapsing since the exhaustive report of the Endicott Board, the Congress of the United States had doled out appropriations barely sufficient to complete thirteen and seven-tenths per cent. of the required guns, mounts, and emplacements. The essential matter of the torpedo-boat flotilla had been put calmly aside without even the courtesy of consideration. Funds at the disposal of the Engineers had enabled them, as early as March 1st, to begin the work of submarine mining, but at no time during the war was the complete system of mines installed. And, last of all, when war actually had been declared, the garrisons of the three main defensive positions of the harbor—Fort Warren, Long Island Head, and the Mortar Battery at Winthrop—aggregated less than two hundred and fifty officers and men for duty.