CHAPTER XIII.
Our Army and Navy in 1999.
Justice done to both Schley and Sampson. The American victory off Santiago opens the eyes of the world. Emperor Wilhelm congratulates himself. America maintains a vigorous Monroe Doctrine.
Long before the advent of 1910 every trace of the bitter controversy that had so long disturbed American naval circles over the Sampson-Schley quarrel, had fortunately been effaced. The hatchet had been buried, or figuratively speaking, had been thrown overboard, and in 1999 this unhappy feud, which tarnished the prestige of the world’s foremost navy, had been obliterated. In 1999, when all heat or vestige of passion had passed away, this unfortunate episode was regarded as being the one and only blot that associated itself with the memory of a wonderful naval exploit, the brilliant engagement on that ever memorable Sunday morning of July 3, 1898, when the Spanish squadron steamed into the jaws of death.
Time accomplishes wonders. It tones The Brave American Officers. down the angles; it dulls the keenest edge and can even render mild, bitter animosities, which, alas, often sting sharper than serpent fangs. Long before 1900 it was universally acknowledged that gallant Admiral Schley had been persecuted. His tormentors, men of high station, became heartily ashamed of persecuting a brave officer who had committed what apparently, in their judgment, appeared to be the crime of annihilating the Spanish squadron off Santiago.
Students of history in 1910 very naturally asked themselves: “If Admiral Schley was so bitterly assailed at the close of a sweeping victory, in what manner would he have been treated by these carping critics had a portion of Cervera’s fleet made good its escape?”
Admiral Sampson appeared to be willing Sampson’s Unlucky Absence. and anxious to secure credit for a victory that had been fought and won during his absence. But the question arises, would Admiral Sampson have been willing to shoulder the blame if Cervera’s vessels had escaped destruction or would he have saddled Admiral Schley with the responsibility? The reader must form his own conclusions in this matter. On the other hand, all impartial students of history in the twentieth century cheerfully accorded to Admiral Sampson full credit for his gallant services on blockade duty during that war. His responsibilities were great and pressing, and he discharged his duties with utmost fidelity.
A pathetic story indeed is that of the The Ever Watchful Eye. “Man in the Iron Mask.” None can read that page of French history without being touched by the sad fate of this mysterious prisoner of state, who was generally supposed to be a twin brother of the King of France. He was treated by his attendants with the utmost deference and courtesy. His raiments were of the costliest fabrics. The governor of the citadel in which the “Man in the Iron Mask” was imprisoned, was obsequious in his attentions to the distinguished prisoner. His wishes were observed with the most scrupulous care and the Great Unknown ever ruled his guardians with the sceptre of a king. The prisoner, however, was obliged to wear his iron mask night and day. Any attempt on his part to remove it, meant swift and certain death.
The feature of his confinement which, perhaps, directly appeals to the world’s sympathy, was the human eye that watched his every movement. Through a hole in the door of his apartment, (which was sumptuously furnished,) that eye never relaxed its vigilance. Night and day its ceaseless vigil continued until death’s kindly hand relieved the distinguished sufferer from the terror of its unceasing gaze.