Our War with Spain for Cuba's Freedom

by Trumbull White

CHAPTER XLVIII.

SEA FIGHT OFF MANILA, AMERICANS VICTORIOUS.

The Eyes of the World Fixed on the First Great Naval Battle of Our War with Spain—Asiatic Waters the Scene of the Notable Conflict—Importance of the Battle in Its Possible Influence on the Construction of All the European Navies—Bravery of Admiral Dewey and the American Sailors of His Fleet—A Glorious Victory for the Star-Spangled Banner—Capture of Manila and Destruction of the Spanish Fleet.

Seldom has the attention of all the world been so directed upon an expected event in a remote quarter of the globe, as during the few days at the end of April when the American fleet in Asiatic waters was steaming toward an attack on Manila, the capital of the Philippine islands. The eyes of every civilized country were strained to see what would be the result of the encounter which was certain to come.

It was recognized frankly by the authorities on warfare everywhere, that the outcome of this first great naval battle would go far toward deciding the fortunes of the entire war. But the importance of the event from this point of view was less than that from another which interested the governments of all Europe. This first test of the modern fighting machine at sea was expected to furnish lessons by which the merits of such vessels could be definitely judged. It might be that they would prove far less efficient than had been calculated by the lords of the admiralty, and that the millions and millions invested in the fleets of Europe would be found virtually wasted. It was this, quite as much as its bearing on the war, that made universal attention direct itself upon the meeting of the squadrons in the Philippines.

All America rejoiced at the news that came flashing over the cables on Sunday, May 1, when the first word of the battle reached the United States. Even Spanish phrases could not conceal the fact that the encounter had been a brilliant victory for the valor of American sailors, and the strength of American ships. A Spanish fleet of superior size virtually annihilated, a city in terror of capture, the insurgent armies at the gates of Manila, the losses of Spanish soldiers and sailors admittedly great, and finally the sullen roar of discontent that was rising against the government in Madrid—all these things indicated that the victory had been an overwhelming one for the Asiatic squadron under Admiral George Dewey.

As the details of the engagement began to multiply, in spite of Spanish censorate over the cables, which garbled the facts as generously as possible in favor of the Spanish forces, the enthusiasm of the people throughout the cities and villages of America swelled in a rising tide of joy and gratitude for the victory that had been given to them. From Eastport to San Diego, and from Key West to Seattle, flags flashed forth and cheers of multitudes rose toward the sky. Around the newspaper bulletins, throngs gathered to read the first brief reports, and then scattered to spread the news among their own neighbors. Seldom has an event been known so widely throughout the country with as little delay as was this news of an American victory in the antipodes. There was a sense of elation and relief over the result, and an absolute assurance grew in every one's mind that no reverse to American arms could come in the threatened conflicts ashore or at sea.

A NATION IN SUSPENSE.

But after the first news of victory was received there came a period of delay. It was learned that the cable between Manila and Hongkong had been cut, and the only means of immediate communication was suspended.

Then came fretful days of waiting and not a word further as to the great battle. To add to the anxiety, from time to time came ugly rumors about Admiral Dewey being trapped, and when all the circumstances of the case were considered it is not strange that something like a chill of apprehension began to be felt as to the fate of the American fleet and its gallant commander. Manila bay was known to be mined, and electric connections might again have been made. The guns of the forts on the land-locked bay might not have been silenced, and Spanish treachery and guile might have accomplished what in open battle Spain's fleet had been unable to do.

But the morning of the 7th of May brought word from Hongkong that sent a thrill of patriotic pride through all America. Our Yankee tars had won the fight, and won it without the loss of a man.

Even those who witnessed the overwhelming victory could scarcely understand how the ships and the men of Admiral Dewey's vessels came out of the battle unhurt and practically unmarked.

Soon after midnight on Sunday morning, May 1, the American fleet, led by the flagship Olympia, the largest vessel among them, passed unnoticed the batteries which were attempting to guard the wide entrance to the harbor. Each vessel had orders to keep 400 yards behind the preceding one, and as there were nine vessels, including the two transports and colliers Nanshan and Zafiro, in the American fleet, the line was nearly a mile and three-quarters long, and at the rate of steaming it was perhaps three-quarters of an hour from the time the Olympia came within range of the shore batteries until the two transports were safely inside the harbor.

The Olympia, Baltimore, Raleigh, Petrel and Concord passed in safety and the land batteries might never have suspected the presence of the fleet but for a peculiar accident on the McCulloch. The soot in the funnel caught fire. Flames spouted up from it, and the sparks fell all over the deck. The batteries must have been awake and watching. Five minutes later, or just at 11:50, signals were seen on the south shore, apparently on Limbones point. The flying sparks from this boat made her the only target in the American line. She continued to steam ahead, and at 12:15, May 1, just as she came between the fort at Restingo and the batteries on the island of Corregidor she was fired upon by the fort at the south.

The Boston, just ahead, had her guns manned and ready, and she responded to the shore fire with great promptness, sending an eight-inch shell toward the curl of smoke seen rising from the battery. This was the first shot fired by the Americans. It was not possible to judge of its effect. There was another flash on shore and a shell went singing past, only a few yards ahead of her bow. If it had struck fairly it would have ripped up the unarmored cutter. This was the McCulloch's only chance to get into battle. She slowed down and stopped and sent a six-pound shot at the shore battery and followed immediately with another.

The Spaniards answered, but this time the shot went wild. The McCulloch then sent a third shell, and almost immediately, the Boston repeated with one of her big guns. After that the shore battery ceased, and the last half of the fleet steamed into the bay without further interruption. At no time did the batteries on Corregidor fire. All the firing by the Spanish came from the south battery, which was much nearer. Five or six shells were fired by the Americans, and the Spanish shot three times, doing absolutely no damage. There were conflicting reports among the naval officers as to the firing at the entrance to the bay, but it is certain that the McCulloch fired three shots. During this firing, the chief engineer of the McCulloch died of nervous shock.

WHEN SPANISH SHIPS WERE SIGHTED.

After passing through the channel the American line moved very slowly. The men on the McCulloch were in a fighting fever after the brush at the entrance to the harbor, and were expecting every minute to hear cannonading from the heavy ships ahead. The fleet crept on and on, waiting under the cover of darkness, and not certain as to their location or at all sure that they would not run into a nest of mines at any moment.

It was nearly 1 o'clock when they were safely in the bay. Between that hour and 4:30 the fleet, moving slowly in a northeasterly direction, headed for a point perhaps five miles to the north of Manila. After covering about seventeen miles, and with the first light of day, the Spanish ships were sighted off to the east under shelter of the strongly fortified naval station at Cavite. The batteries and the town of Cavite are about seven miles southwest of Manila, and are on an arm of land reaching northward to inclose a smaller harbor, known as Baker bay. From where the fleet first stopped, the shapes of the larger Spanish cruisers could be made out dimly, and also the irregular outlines of the shore batteries behind. It was evident, even to a landsman, that the Spanish fleet would not fight unless our vessels made the attack, coming within range of the Cavite batteries.

The signaling from the flagship and the hurried movement on every deck showed that the fleet was about to attack. In the meantime the McCulloch received her orders. She was to lie well outside, that is, to the west of the fighting line, and protect the two cargo ships, Nanshan and Zafiro. The position assigned to her permitted the American fleet to carry on their fighting maneuvers and at the same time to keep between the Spanish fleet and the three American ships which were not qualified to go into the battle.

GOVERNOR-GENERAL'S PROCLAMATION.

Shortly before 5 o'clock Sunday morning and when every vessel in the fleet had reported itself in readiness to move on Cavite, the crews were drawn up and the remarkable proclamation issued by the governor-general of the Philippine islands, on April 23, was read to the men. Every American sailor went into battle determined to resent the insults contained in the message, which was as follows:

Spaniards! Hostilities have broken out between Spain and the United States. The moment has arrived for us to prove to the world that we possess the spirit to conquer those who, pretending to be loyal friends, have taken advantage of our misfortune and abused our hospitalities, using means which civilized nations count unworthy and disreputable.

The North American people, constituted of all the social excrescences, have exhausted our patience and provoked war with their perfidious machinations, with their acts of treachery, with their outrages against laws of nations and international conventions. The struggle will be short and decisive, the God of victories will give us one as brilliant and complete as the righteousness and justice of our cause demand. Spain, which counts on the sympathies of all the nations, will emerge triumphantly from the new test, humiliating and blasting the adventurers from those states that, with out cohesion and without history, offer to humanity only infamous tradition and the ungrateful spectacle of chambers in which appear united insolence, cowardice and cynicism. A squadron, manned by foreigners possessing neither instructions nor discipline, is preparing to come to this archipelago with the ruffianly intention of robbing us of all that means life, honor and liberty.

Pretending to be inspired by a courage of which they are incapable, the North American seamen undertake as an enterprise capable of realization the substitution of protestantism for the Catholic religion you profess, to treat you as tribes refractory to civilization, to take possession of your riches as if they were unacquainted with the rights of property, and kidnap those persons whom they consider useful to man their ships or to be exploited in agricultural or individual labor. Vain design! Ridiculous boasting! Your indomitable bravery will suffice to frustrate the attempt to carry them into realization. You will not allow the faith you profess to be made a mockery, impious hands to be placed on the temple of the true God, the images you adore to be thrown down by unbelief. The aggressors shall not profane the tombs of your fathers. They shall not gratify their lustful passions at the cost of your wives' and daughters' honor or appropriate the property that your industry has accumulated as a provision for your old age. No! They shall not perpetrate the crimes inspired by their wickedness and covetousness, because your valor and patriotism will suffice to punish and abase the people that, claiming to be civilized and cultivated, have exterminated the natives of North America instead of bringing to them the life of civilization and progress. Men of the Philippines, prepare for the struggle, and united under the glorious Spanish flag, which is ever covered with laurels, let us fight with the conviction that victory will crown our efforts, and to the calls of our enemies let us oppose with the decision of the Christian and patriotic cry of "Viva Espana." Your governor,

BASILIO AUGUSTIN DIVILIO.

EXPLODING THE MINES.

If the cry of "Remember the Maine" were not enough to put the American sailors in a fighting mood as the warships moved forward in battle line, the memory of this insulting proclamation helped to put them on their mettle.

The Olympia headed straight for the Spanish position a few minutes before 5 o'clock. She was moving at moderate speed. The other vessels followed in the same order which had been observed in entering the bay. The Spaniards were impatient and showed bad judgment. At 5:10 o'clock there was a puff of smoke from one of the Cavite batteries and a shell dropped into the water far inshore from the flagship. Several shots followed, but the range was too long. While the American ships continued to crowd on, two uplifts of the water far in the wake of the Olympia, and off at one side, were seen. Two mines had been exploded from their land connections. They did not even splash one of our boats, but those who were watching and following behind, held their breath in dread, for they did not know at what moment they might see one of the ships lifted into the air. But there were no more mines. The Spaniards, in exploding them, had bungled, as they did afterward at every stage of their desperate fighting.

Already there was a film of smoke over the land batteries and along the line of Spanish ships inshore. The roar of their guns came across the water. Our fleet paid no attention.

The Olympia, in the lead, counted ten Spanish warships, formed in a semi-circle in front of the rounding peninsula of Cavite, so that they were both backed and flanked by the land batteries. The ten vessels which made the fighting line were the flagships Reina Christina, the Castilla, the Antonio de Ulloa, the Isla de Cuba, the Isla de Luzon, the El Correo, the Marquis del Duero, the Velasco, the Gen. Lezo and the Mindanao, the latter being a mail steamer which the Spaniards had hastily fitted with guns. The Castilla was moored head and stern, evidently to give the fleet a fixed spot from which to maneuver, but the other boats were under steam and prepared to move.

The Olympia opened fire for the American fleet when two miles away from the enemy. She began blazing away with her four eight-inch turret guns. The thunders of sound came rolling across the water and the flagships were almost hidden in smoke. Now our ships circled to the north and east in the general direction of the city of Manila. That is, the American fleet circling toward the northeast and further in toward shore all the time, turned and came back in a southwesterly direction, passing in parade line directly in front of the Spanish fleet and batteries, so that the first general broadside was from the port side, or the left of the ships as one stands on the stern and faces the bow. The McCulloch had taken its position so that the fleet, in delivering this first broadside, passed between it and the enemy. The McCulloch and the Nanshan and Zafiro played in behind the heavy line like the backs of a football team.

Having delivered the port broadside, the American fleet turned, heading toward the shore, and moved back toward the northeast, delivering the starboard broadside.

As our ships passed to and fro, the stars and stripes could be seen whirling out from the clouds of smoke, and as the line passed the second and third times without a sign of any ship being injured, the sailors began to feel that the Spaniards were not so formidable after all. Their shots went tearing away over our ships or splashed the water farther in shore. Some of the men who fought at the guns said that after the first general broadside, the sailors laughed at the wild shots, and exposed themselves recklessly, feeling that they were in no particular danger.

The story of the first general engagement is that the Americans moved in front of the Spanish line five times, pouring in broadsides with all the available guns. Each time the fleet drew nearer to shore, and each time the firing became more terribly effective, while the Spaniards failed to improve in marksmanship. Our gunners fired first the port broadsides, then the starboard, then the port again, then the starboard and then the port guns for a third time, and at this last, or fifth, return for an engagement along the line they were within 1,500 yards of the Spanish position. Our whole line was choked with smoke, but still unhurt. The Spanish fleet was already wounded beyond recovery.

DUEL OF THE FLAGSHIPS.

It was during the delivery of this last attack that the Reina Christina made a valiant attack. Up to that time not a Spanish ship had left the line of battle. As the Olympia approached, Admiral Montejo gave orders, and the Reina Christina moved out from the line to engage the big flagship of the American fleet. Admiral Dewey's boat welcomed the battle. Every battery on the Olympia was turned on the Reina Christina. In the face of this awful fire she still advanced. The American sailors had ridiculed the gunnery of the Spaniards, but they had to admire this act of bravery. She came forward and attempted to swing into action against the Olympia, but was, struck fore and aft by a perfect storm of projectiles. With the Olympia still pounding at her, she swung around and started back for the protection of the navy yard. Just after she had turned a well-aimed shell from one of the Olympia's eight-inch guns struck her, fairly wrecking the engine-room and exploding a magazine. She was seen to be on fire, but she painfully continued her way toward the shelter of Cavite and continued firing until she was a mass of flames. It was during this retreat that Captain Cadarso was killed. The bridge was shot from under Admiral Montejo. The Spanish sailors could be seen swarming out of the burning ship and into the small boats. Admiral Montejo escaped and transferred his pennant to the Castilla. He had been on the Castilla less than five minutes when it was set on fire by an exploding shell.

Toward the close of the decisive engagement, and just after the Reina Christina had been sent back, hammered to pieces and set on fire, two small torpedo boats made a daring attempt to slip up on the Olympia. A pall of smoke was hanging over the water. Taking advantage of this, they darted out from the Spanish lines and headed straight for the American flagship. They were fully 800 yards in advance of the Spanish line (or more than half of the way toward the Olympia) when they were discovered. Admiral Dewey signaled his men to concentrate all batteries on them. Every gun on the port side of the Olympia was leveled on the two little craft which came flying across the water. A fierce fire was opened, but they escaped the first volley and came on at full speed. The flagship stopped. A second broadside was delivered. The torpedo boats were either injured or else alarmed, for they turned hastily and started for the shore. An eight-inch shell struck one. It exploded and sunk immediately, with all on board. The other, which had been hit, ran all the way to shore and was beached. These were the only two attempts the Spanish made to offer offensive battle.

It would be difficult to describe in detail these first two hours of terrific fighting. The sounds were deafening, and at times the smoke obscured almost the whole picture of battle. The American commander himself could not estimate the injury to the enemy until after he had withdrawn from the first general engagement and allowed the smoke to clear away. Unfortunately, our fleet had no supply of smokeless powder. All during the fighting of Sunday morning, Admiral Dewey stood with Captain Lambertson on the forward bridge of the Olympia. He was absolutely exposed to the heaviest firing, because the Spanish fleet and the land batteries as well continually made a target of our big flagship. Captain Wildes, on the Boston, carried a fan as he stood on the bridge, and at one time drank a cup of coffee while continuing to give orders to his gunners.

It was 7:45 when the American fleet withdrew out of range, not because it had suffered any reverses, but merely to ascertain the damages and hold a consultation.

Not until the commanders had reported to Admiral Dewey did he learn of the insignificant loss which his fleet had sustained. Not one man had been killed and not one vessel was so badly injured but that it was ready to put to sea at once. Through the glasses it could be seen that the Reina Christina and the Castilla were burning. The smaller vessels had taken refuge behind the arsenal at Cavite. The Mindanao had been driven ashore. Already the victory was almost complete. The American sailors were wild with enthusiasm. Although hardly one of them had slept the night before, and they had been fighting in a burning temperature, they were more than anxious to return to the engagement and finish the good work. It was thought best, however, to take a rest for at least three hours. The decks were cleaned and the guns readjusted, and after food had been served to the men, the fleet formed and headed straight for Cavite again. The remnant of the Spanish squadron offered very little resistance, but the forts at Cavite continued their wild efforts to strike an American warship.

MAKING THE SECOND ATTACK.

This time the Baltimore was sent in advance. She headed boldly to within range of the Cavite batteries. By this time the Americans had a contempt for Spanish marksmanship. The Baltimore opened fire and pounded away for thirty minutes. At the end of that time every gun of the batteries had been silenced. Of the Spanish war-ships the Antonio de Ulloa was the only one which came out of refuge to offer battle with the Baltimore and she met with horrible punishment. Her decks were literally swept with shell, but even after she was apparently wrecked her lower guns were used with wonderful persistence.

The Baltimore, having silenced the forts, turned all her guns on the Spanish cruiser and actually riddled her. She sank and all her crew went down with her. That was the end of Spanish resistance. Admiral Dewey ordered his light-draught vessels to enter the navy yard and destroy everything that might give future trouble. The Boston, the Concord and the Petrel were detailed for this duty, but the Boston, drawing twenty feet, ran aground twice, not knowing the shoals, and had to leave the work to the Petrel and Concord. By the time these two vessels reached the navy yard they found the vessels there abandoned and most of them on fire. They destroyed the fag end of the Spanish fleet, and when Sunday afternoon came there was nothing left above water to represent the Spanish naval force in Asiatic waters except the transport Manila. The arsenal had been shelled to pieces.

At 12:45 o'clock the signal was given that the Spanish had surrendered. The word was passed rapidly from ship to ship. The American sailors were crazy with delight. There was tremendous cheering on every ship. The enthusiasm became even greater when the word was passed that not one of our men had been killed and not one American vessel had been injured. The eight men who were hurt by the explosion on the Baltimore continued to fight until the end of the battle. The Boston was struck once and the officers' quarters set on fire.

For some reason the Spanish gunners seemed to think that the Baltimore was especially dangerous, having the general build of a battleship, and, next to the flagship, she had to withstand the greatest amount of firing, and was struck several times, with no great damage. Except for the torn rigging and a few dents here and there few signs could be discovered that the vessels had engaged in one of the most decisive naval battles of modern times.

The Concord and the Petrel were not hit at all, although the latter went deeper into the enemy's position than any other vessel in our fleet The Olympia made a glorious record. She was struck thirteen times, counting the shells which tore through her rigging, but she came out as good as she went in.

LOSS OF THE SPANISH.

Compared with these trivial losses the damage done to the Spanish was fearful. Five hundred and fifty of them were killed and 625 wounded. Eleven of their ships were totally demolished, and the Americans captured one transport and several smaller vessels. Their money loss by reason of the battle was not less than $5,000,000.

During the naval action a battery of 10-inch guns at Manila opened an ineffectual fire on our fleet as it was moving into action north of Cavite. The admiral did not return' the fire out of mercy for the people of Manila, as any shots passing over the shore batteries would have landed in a populous portion of the city.

On Monday, May 2, the Raleigh and Baltimore were sent to demand the surrender of the forts at the mouth of the bay. These forts were taken without resistance. The troops had fled and only the commandant remained to surrender himself.

In regard to the cutting of the cable, Admiral Dewey regarded the action as necessary. He sent word to the governor by the British consul that if he was permitted to send his dispatches to the United States government the cable would not be cut. The governor refused to promise and Admiral Dewey decided to stop all communication between Manila and Madrid.

On Monday, when the cable was cut, the commander established a marine guard at Cavite to protect the hospitals and the Spanish wounded. Surgeons and the hospital corps of the American fleet were detailed to care for the wounded Spaniards, and they cared for them as tenderly as if they were brothers in arms instead of enemies. On Wednesday, May 4, several hundred of the wounded Spaniards were conveyed under the Red Cross flag to Manila and were cared for in the hospitals there.

The Spaniards in Manila no longer feared the Americans, but they were in dread of capture by the insurgents. The rebels were over-running Cavite and pillaging houses. The country back of Manila was full of burning buildings and wrecked plantations. The reckless insurgents were applying the torch right and left.

ADMIRAL MONTEJO'S PRIVATE PAPERS.

The most interesting capture made by the Americans was a bundle of private papers belonging to Admiral Montejo. One of these communications, bearing his signature, showed that it was his intention to have a general review and inspection of the fleet at 7 o'clock on Sunday morning. This proves that he was not expecting the American fleet so soon.

Other papers showed that it had been his intention at one time to intrust the defense of Manila to the land batteries and take the fleet to Subig bay, north of Manila, believing that he could there take up a strong position and have an advantage over an attacking fleet.

According to the reports from Manila the admiral first went ashore at Cavite and had his wounds dressed. He succeeded in evading the insurgents, who wished to capture him, and arrived in Manila twelve hours after the fight.

There are some very interesting figures as to the amount of firing done by our ships during the battle. The Olympia fired 1,764 shells, aggregating twenty-five tons in weight. The Baltimore did even heavier firing, being called upon to reduce the forts after the first engagement, and sent no less than thirty-five tons of metal into the Spanish ships and the land batteries. The remainder of the fleet shot a total of eighty tons of metal, making a grand total of 140 tons.

The Spanish officers attributed the American victory to the rapidity and the accuracy of our fire rather than to the weight of projectiles used. Also, the fact that the American ships were painted a lead color and did not stand out boldly against the water made them very unsatisfactory targets and kept the Spanish gunners guessing as to the correct range.

In spite of his overwhelming defeat Admiral Montejo did not forget the courtesies of the occasion. On Monday he sent word by the British consul to Admiral Dewey that he wished to compliment the Americans on their marksmanship. He said that never before had he witnessed such rapid and accurate firing. Admiral Dewey, not to be outdone in the amenities of war, sent his compliments to the Spanish admiral and praised the Spaniards very highly for their courage and resistance. He said that the Spanish force was stronger than he had believed it would be before his arrival at the harbor, and he had really expected a shorter and less stubborn battle. It is said that this message, although complimentary to the Spanish, did not give Admiral Montejo any real comfort.

The Spanish ships destroyed were: The Reina Christina, flagship of
Admiral Montejo; Cruiser Castilla (wooden); Cruiser Don Antonio de
Ulloa; Protected Cruiser Isla de Luzon; Protected Cruiser Isla de
Cuba; Gunboat General Lezo; Gunboat Marquis del Duero; Gunboat El
Cano; Gunboat El Velasco; the Steamer Mindanao, with supplies,
burned.

These were captured: Transport Manila, with supplies; Gunboat
Isabella I; Cruiser Don Juan de Austria; Gunboat Rapido; Gunboat
Hercules; two whaleboats; three steam launches.

Secretary Long sent this dispatch immediately to Acting Admiral
Dewey:

The President, in the name of the American people, thanks you and your officers and men for your splendid achievement and overwhelming victory. In recognition he has appointed you Acting Admiral, and will recommend a vote of thanks to you by Congress as a foundation for further promotion.

DEWEY'S NEW RANK.

The Senate unanimously confirmed the President's nomination making George Dewey a rear admiral in the United States navy. Congress made the place for him, and the President promoted him.

He bears on his shoulders two stars and an anchor instead of two anchors and a star. His pay has been increased from $5,000 a year to $6,000 a year, while at sea and until he retires. He was presented with a sword, and medals were struck for his men. His elevation in rank, his increase in pay, are gratifying tributes to his greatness. But there is a rank to which the President could not elevate him, a position that Congress could not create, for he created it himself. In the hearts of the people Admiral Dewey is the Hero of Manila, holding a place prouder than a king's, a place in the love and admiration and gratitude of a great nation.

Greater than Farragut, greater than Hull, greater than Hawke or Blake or Nelson, Dewey is the greatest of fleet commanders, the grandest of the heroes of the sea. It will be recorded of him that he was faithful to duty, true to his flag, magnanimous to his enemies and modest in the hour of triumph.