I.

THE GATHERING OF THE STORM.

That the friendly relations of two great nations should be ruptured by a difficulty which, to all appearances, might easily have been adjusted, seems incredible; but it should be remembered that at this period Spain and the United States were by no means on the best of terms. Spanish war-vessels in the West Indies had been overhauling American merchantmen in a high-handed way, which had already called forth the remonstrances of our Government; and the complaints from Cuba of the insecurity of property and life of American citizens had become more numerous than ever. Still, the result of the dispute was a surprise to the world; especially as the overt act of rupture had come from Spain, and not from the United States, as had so frequently hitherto seemed probable.

The popular excitement throughout the country was intense. There was a universal demand for war. It was pointed out that the country was never so prosperous, or better able to bear the burden of a conflict; that, with our immense resources, an army could be raised and a navy equipped inside of sixty days; that such a war would be of short duration, and that the result could be none other than the humiliation of Spain, and the ceding to us of the Spanish West Indies as a war indemnity.

The House of Representatives fairly rung with bellicose speeches, and the press, with a few exceptions, reflected the popular feeling.

On the other hand, however, there was a powerful party attempting to stem the precipitancy of the nation. The great moneyed corporations viewed the matter with alarm, and advocated peaceful settlement, or, at most, inaction. This, however, was attributed to their fears of unsettlement of values, and consequent depreciation of their property.

The Senate, refusing to be influenced by popular clamor, steadily opposed all hasty legislation originating in the lower House. The President and Cabinet brought down upon themselves the bitter denunciation of the opposition press for "cowardly truckling to Spain," because no immediate steps were taken to place army and navy on a war footing, and no volunteers were called for.

A month went by. The popular excitement in this period perceptibly decreased; and, as it did so, the New York World and Tribune, which, from the first, had given but weak support to the cry for war, became more outspoken against hostilities. The bill agreed to by both Houses of Congress, providing for the immediate construction of ten swift armored cruisers, was strongly attacked in both journals, and the arming of the harbor forts, and the elaborate preparations which began to be visible for protecting the harbor by torpedoes, were sneered at as "useless precautions, dictated by an unworthy fear of a nation which would never venture to attack us."

The stocks of the New York Central, Western Union Telegraph, Lake Shore, and other corporations controlled by Vanderbilt and Jay Gould, which had fallen during the excitement of the previous month, rose slowly, but steadily.

On the afternoon of March 6th, the Evening Telegram issued an extra, reporting the sailing from Coruna of four Spanish ironclads. The announcement on the London Stock Exchange was that they were going to Cuba.

On the following day there was a decided fall in American Securities in London, and a weak market in Wall Street; which degenerated into a rapidly declining one when it became rumored that Gould was selling Western Union short in large blocks, and that Vanderbilt's brokers were similarly disposing of N.Y. Central and other stocks.

At 10 o'clock that night the news came that Spain had formally declared war upon the United States. It was posted in all the hotels, and read from the stages of all the theatres. The people flocked into the streets en masse. Speeches were made, breathing defiance and demands for an immediate attack upon Spain, before tremendous crowds, in Madison and Union Squares. No one slept that night.

Next morning there was a panic in Wall Street, which was arrested, however, by the intelligence from London that, although Government four-per-cents had fallen to 86, they were steady at that figure, and that the Rothschilds and Baring Brothers were buying them in largely. Before night Congress had voted a special appropriation of a hundred million dollars for purposes of defense, authorized the immediate construction of twenty armored ships, and the President issued his proclamation, calling for the raising of four hundred thousand men "to repel an invasion of the Union."

Within twenty-four hours the regiments of the National Guard in New York and vicinity were mustered into the service of the United States and ordered into camp, under command of General Hancock. That officer at once began the construction of sea-coast batteries on Coney Island, Rockaway Beach, and the New Jersey coast. A crack city regiment was detailed to complete the partially finished fort on Sandy Hook and throw up earthworks along the Peninsula; but, as the hands of most of the men became quite sore through wielding shovels and picks, they were relieved and sent to garrison Governor's Island, where they gave exhibition drills daily, and, on Friday evenings, invited their female friends to hops of the most enjoyable description. The Hook fort was subsequently completed by a volunteer regiment of Cuban cigar-makers, from the Bowery.

As a matter of course, notice was immediately given to all foreign vessels in port of the proposed blocking of the Narrows and the Main, Swash and East Channels with torpedoes, and forty-eight hours' time was accorded them wherein to take their departure. The European steamers were the first to leave, each one towing from two to five sailing-vessels. Later on, General Hancock impressed all the harbor tugs into service; and, by their aid, before the specified period had elapsed, not a single ship floating a foreign flag remained in New York Harbor. A battalion of army engineers, under command of General Abbot, and another of sailors, under Captain Selfridge, at once began operations.

In the Narrows, torpedoes were moored at distances of one hundred feet apart, and were connected with the shore by electric wires. At various points along the beach shell-proof huts were constructed, to which these wires led. In each hut was arranged a camera lucida, so that a picture of the harbor, over a limited area, was thrown upon a whitened table. In this way an observer could recognize the instant an enemy's vessel arrived over a sunken mine, and could explode the latter by simply touching a button which allowed the electric current to pass to the torpedo. In the Harbor channels the torpedoes were so arranged as to be exploded on contact of an enemy's vessel with a partially submerged buoy.

The torpedo-stations on Staten and Coney Islands and the Jersey coast were provided with movable fish-torpedoes of the Ericsson and Lay types, intended to be sent out against a hostile vessel, and manoeuvred from the shore. All the steam-tugs in the Harbor were moored in Gowanus bay, and each tug was rigged with a long boom projecting from her bow, on which a torpedo, containing some fifty pounds of dynamite, was carried.

With the tugs, and serving as flag-ship for the squadron, was the U.S. torpedo-boat "Alarm," Lieutenant-Commander H.H. Gorringe.

The armament of the sea-coast batteries was not calculated to strike terror into the soul of any nation owning a modern ironclad vessel. It consisted mainly of old-fashioned smooth-bore guns, a system of artillery which has been rejected by every European power as the weakest and most inefficient. The greatest range attainable with the best of these cannon was 8000 yards, or some four and one half miles. At one quarter this range their shot would be utterly unable to penetrate even moderately thin armor. Besides these guns there were a few ten and twelve-inch rifles of cast-iron, and hence of unreliable and inferior material; some old smooth-bore cannon, converted into rifles by wrought-iron linings; and a number of mortars and pieces of small calibre, altogether contemptible in the light of the advances made in the art of war during the last quarter of a century.

Meanwhile the inventors were not idle, and the press fairly teemed with novel suggestions for the defense of the city. It was proposed to run all the oil stored in the Williamsburgh refineries into the lower bay, and set it on fire when the enemy's fleet appeared.

The Herald suggested the raising of a regiment of divers to live in a submarine fort, the guns of which should be arranged to fire upwards into a vessel floating above, and immediately offered to contribute $250,000 to begin the construction of such defenses.

General Newton proposed the building of continuous earthworks on both shores of the bay and Narrows, behind which a broad-gauge railroad should be constructed. On the track he placed heavy platform-cars, each car carrying one heavy gun. Embrasures were made at regular intervals along the embankment. His idea was, that if a hostile vessel made her way into the Harbor, the gun-cars should move along behind the earthworks, keeping abreast of the ship, and thus pour into her a continuous fire. Measures were promptly taken to follow this plan.

Mr. T.A. Edison announced that he had invented everything which, up to that time, any one else had suggested. He invited all the reporters to Menlo Park, and, after elaborately explaining the merits of a new catarrh remedy, showed some lines on a piece of paper, which, he said, represented huge electro-magnets, which he proposed to set up along the coast, say, near Barnegat. When the enemy's iron ships appeared, he proposed to excite these magnets, and draw the vessels on the rocks. Somebody said that this notion had been anticipated by one Sindbad the Sailor, whereupon Mr. Edison denounced that person as a "patent pirate." He also said that these magnets would be exhibited in working order next Christmas Eve.

Professor Bell proposed the "induction balance," as a way of recognizing the approach of the enemy's iron vessels. He went down the Bay with his instrument, and sent back some telegrams which were alarming, until it was discovered that the professor had made a slight error in the direction from which he asserted the ships were coming, it being manifestly impossible for them to sail overland from the Pacific, as his contrivance predicted.

The condition of affairs in the city reminded one of the early days of the Rebellion. Wall Street was panicky—chiefly because of the immense depreciation in railway securities. Government four-per-cent bonds, however, had gone up to ninety-eight. Provisions were high, and, through the stoppage of European commerce, the cost of imported articles, such as dress-goods, tea, etc., became excessive. Recruiting was going on everywhere; the regiments, as fast as organized, being dispatched to different points along the sea-board, or to swell the numbers of an army under command of General Sheridan, which was preparing to sail to Key West, to invade Cuba.

During the month of March New York remained in a state of suspense. Army contractors did a brisk business; but otherwise there was little doing. News was eagerly sought. It was known that Spain was mobilizing her army and fitting out transports; but beyond this, and the dispatching of the four ironclads, which had duly reached Havana, she had taken no steps pointing toward an invasion of the United States. All the European nations had issued proclamations of neutrality, except Russia and France. England had ordered the great Spanish ironclad, "El Cid," in which Sir William Armstrong had just placed two 100-ton guns, out of her waters inside of twenty-four hours after Spain had declared war; and this, although the vessel was in many respects unfinished. The Queen's proclamation was most stringent against the fitting out or coaling of the vessels of either belligerent, and a special Act of Parliament was passed, inflicting penalties of the greatest severity for any violation of it. John Bull evidently proposed to pay for no more "Alabamas."

The first great news of the war came during the first week in June. The Spanish screw corvette "Tornado," six guns, had sailed from Cartagena for Havana. Off Cape Trafalgar she encountered the "Lancaster," flag-ship of the United States European squadron, bearing the flag of Rear-Admiral Nicholson. The "Lancaster" carried two-eleven-inch and twenty nine-inch old-fashioned smooth-bore Dahlgren guns. The action was short, sharp, and decisive.

It terminated in the surrender of the "Tornado," after the loss of her captain, five officers, and forty of her crew. The "Lancaster" was badly cut up about the rigging, but otherwise uninjured. Her loss was but five men. The first tidings of this was the arrival of the "Tornado" in Hampton Roads, with a prize crew on board, and the royal ensign of Spain floating beneath the stars and stripes.

When the extras announcing the news were shouted in the streets, the enthusiasm of the people knew no bounds. From every building, from every window, the flag was displayed. Throngs of excited men marched through the avenues, cheering and shouting, and the recruiting was renewed so vigorously, that New York's quota of the four hundred thousand men called for by the President was filled within the next twenty-four hours after the news came.

In the midst of this furore, the bulletins announced that the Spanish ironclads "Zaragoza" and "Numancia" had sailed from Havana, with no destination announced; that their consorts, the "Arapiles" and "Vittoria," together with three transports, "San Quentin," "Patino," and "Ferrol," the latter well laden with coal and provisions, were preparing to follow; also, that the huge "El Cid" had been fitted for sea, and was about to sail from Vigo, Spain.

Just before this intelligence arrived, the United States steam frigate
"Franklin," forty-three guns, carrying the flag of Vice-Admiral Stephen
C. Rowan, left Hampton Roads on a cruise, northwardly.

Where were the Spanish ironclads going?

On Sunday morning, April 9th, Trinity Church was crowded with worshipers. The venerable Bishop of New York was present, and was to deliver the sermon. His erect, stately form, clad in the flowing robes of his office, had just appeared in the pulpit, and he had spoken the words of his text, when a commotion in the rear of the church caused him to stop and look up, wondering at the unseemly interruption.

A soldier emerged from the crowd, and, making his way to the Astor pew, handed a letter to Mr. John Jacob Astor. The ruddy face of that gentleman blanched as he read its contents. Then he rose, walked to the pulpit, and handed the missive to the bishop.

A dead silence prevailed—at last broken by these simple words:

"Brethren, the war-vessels of the public enemy have appeared off our
Harbor. Let us pray."

A deep, heart-felt Amen responded to the appeal made in eloquent, though faltering, tones; and then, quiet and orderly, the congregation left the temple. It was fitting that such a prayer should be the last ever offered in a sanctuary of which, but a few days later, only a heap of smoking ruins remained.

The same news had been forwarded to the other churches, and the congregations, dismissed, had gathered in front of the great bulletin-boards which had been erected in the various parts of the city. In huge letters were the words:

"A large steamer, showing Spanish flag, sighted off Barnegat."

Shortly afterwards came another dispatch:

"The United States frigate 'Franklin' has been signaled off Fire
Island."

Then another dispatch:

"The Spanish steamer has gone to the eastward."

And then, three hours later:

"Heavy firing has been heard from the south and east."