“The death rate at El Caney is terrible. Can you send food?”
Word went back to send the thirty thousand refugees of El Caney at once back to Santiago;—we were there and could feed them—that the “State of Texas” had still on board twelve hundred tons of supplies for the reconcentrados. That day poured in upon us all that had strength to make the journey, of the thirty thousand starving wrecks of El Caney. If there were any at night who had not received food, no one knew it. The fires were rekindled in the great steam soup kitchens of Mr. H. Michaelsen—that name should be carved in marble and lettered in gold in Santiago—that had run uninterrupted for nearly two years, until within a few weeks of the surrender, when there was no more food for its kettles. Ten thousand persons had hot soup there the first day, and it was estimated that ten thousand more had dry food of crackers, meat and meal. To the sick were distributed condensed and malted milk as fast as it could be gotten to them.
Of the districting of the city, the formation of committees for the distribution of food, the care, the justice, and the success with which it was done, I leave to the reports of my experienced staff officers and assistants and to the committee of Santiago, which nobly volunteered its aid. These persons performed this work—they were a part of it—and no one can describe it so well as they. I refer the reader to the reports of Dr. Hubbell, Dr. Egan, Mr. Cottrell, Miss Fowler, now the wife of Baron Van Schelle of Belgium, and the committee of Santiago composed of H. Michaelsen, vice-consul for Germany, Robert Mason, Chinese consul and vice-consul for England, and Wm. Ramsden, son of the late Frederick Ramsden, British consul. With these latter gentlemen, together with twenty of the leading ladies of Santiago, was left, one month later, the supplies remaining in our warehouses, and the oversight of the poor of the city, over whom their care had extended so tenderly and so wisely in the past, and on whom as helping them back into citizenship it must largely devolve in the future.
Returning to our first day in Santiago, it is remembered that this narration has thus far left the navy, its flagship and commander at the entrance of the harbor in obscurity. It would seem but just that it reproduce them.
Until ten o’clock on Monday the eighteenth we saw no sign of life on the waters of the bay—neither sail, steam nor boat—but suddenly word passed down from the watch on deck that a ship was sighted. Slowly it came in view—large, fine, full masted—and orders went to salute when it should pass. At length here was something to which we could pay deference. The whistles were held, the flag was ready for action, ropes straight and without a tangle—all stood breathless—but she does not pass, and seems to be standing in. In a minute more a stout sailor voice calls out: “Throw us a rope,” and here, without salute, whistle or bell, came and fastened to the stern of our boat this glittering and masted steamship from whose decks below Admirals Sampson and Schley and their respective staffs shouted up their familiar greetings to us.
The view from their ship enfiladed, to speak in military parlance, our entire dock. There was every opportunity to see how our work was done and if we were equal to unloading our ship. The day was spent with us till four o’clock in the afternoon; and when about to leave and the admiral was asked what orders or directions he had for us, the reply was, “You need no directions from me, but if anyone troubles you, let me know.”
Many months have passed since that day, and I write this without ever having seen again the face of the commander who had been so courteous and kind, and so helpful in the work I went to do.
Under date of July 23 is found the following entry in the diary which sums up the entire matter of facts, dates and figures in few words:
“The discharge of the cargo of the ‘State of Texas’ of over twelve hundred tons, commenced at six o’clock Monday, July 18. One hundred and twenty-five stevedores were employed and paid in food issued as rations.
“On Thursday, the twenty-first, at six o’clock p.m. the discharge was completed, and the following morning, Friday, July 22, the ship left for New York.