Spain

by Frederick A. Ober

As time was precious, the troops of General Shafter’s command were landed rapidly, each man with three days’ rations and two hundred rounds of ammunition, and the van was pushing for Santiago while the rear was disembarking. They encountered little opposition at first, and the second day, or on the 23d of June, a base of operations was secured by the capture of Juragua. On the 24th the first blood was spilled, when the dismounted cavalry, known as the Rough Riders, were attacked, several miles beyond the most advanced position, at La Guasimas, and lost sixteen in killed and fifty-two wounded. This attack by the Spaniards upon troops struggling through a tropical thicket was referred to by the men themselves as merely a skirmish, and did not for a moment cause them to falter.

The Spaniards withdrew from their advanced positions, and a few days after the skirmish at La Guasimas eight thousand troops, under Generals Wheeler and Lawton, occupied the hamlet of Sevilla without opposition. The first great battle was a week later, on the 1st of July, when a general advance was ordered upon the outworks of Santiago. Two important positions were taken and held, that of El Caney by General Lawton, consisting of a strong blockhouse defended by rifle pits, and San Juan Hill by General Kent. Both positions were gallantly and obstinately defended by the Spaniards, and it was only after repeated charges by our troops that they were taken. The charge up the steep slopes of San Juan Hill, led by Colonel Roosevelt, compelled the unstinted admiration of the foreign attachés representing various European governments, who could not sufficiently praise the gallant “initiative,” as they called it, of the American soldier. After two days’ hard fighting the men intrenched and lay down on their arms, with a loss of two hundred and thirty killed and more than twelve hundred wounded. Volunteers and regulars vied with each other in deeds of bravery, in individual heroism, and it would be impossible to mention every hero of this fight. The Spaniards fought well also, and as they possessed weapons superior to those of the Americans, and cartridges loaded with smokeless powder, and were in the main sheltered behind intrenchments, they had a great advantage.

Within the fortifications of Santiago were about fifteen thousand soldiers under General Linares; without, as many Americans under General Shafter, who by two days of fighting had gained positions whence they could command the city. Re-enforcements were constantly arriving, and soon the heavy siege guns would be brought to the front and the Spaniards driven from the forts and intrenchments. At first a general assault was contemplated by the Americans, but this idea was abandoned when it was found that the enemy was so strongly intrenched, so desperate, and equipped with superior arms.

While the American general was undecided what to do, a new diversion was caused, on the morning of July 3d, by the fleet of Admiral Cervera making a sudden dash for liberty. The admiral’s position had become, or soon would become, untenable, and he was forced to the desperate determination to fly out in the face of the Yankee war ships and take the one chance for liberty. About half past nine in the morning the lookout on the battle ship Texas gave the alarm: “The fleet is coming out!” Signals were set, but the black smoke from the funnels of the fleet betrayed their design, and the battle ships Iowa and Oregon, and the armoured cruiser Brooklyn, at once hastened with all steam toward the harbour entrance.

It was a magnificent spectacle: that of the gathering war ships speeding toward the Spanish squadron, which, with the Infanta Maria Teresa, Admiral Cervera’s flagship, in the lead, followed by the Cristobal Colon, the Vizcaya, the Almirante Oquendo, and the two torpedo destroyers Furor and Pluton, steamed slowly into view, and then, with increasing speed, turned down the western coast.

What followed then was a test of speed and endurance, for it had long been maintained that the Spanish war ships were the superiors of the American in these respects. What then ensued quickly proved the contrary to be true, for within one short hour three of the great battle ships were driven ashore and sunk, riddled with shells, and with flames bursting from every port. The Texas, Oregon, Iowa, and Brooklyn dashed upon them like eagles swooping upon their prey, pouring in terrible broadsides and sweeping their decks with their rapid-fire guns. The great thirteen-inch shells tore through the belts of steel armour, smashed the boilers and machinery, setting fire to the magazines, and in a short time completely disabling the pride and boast of the Spanish navy. The two torpedo destroyers, which had been so much exploited as terrors of the sea, were disposed of in a few minutes by the Texas, Iowa, and Gloucester, and sunk with a loss of two thirds of their crews. Meanwhile, the Cristobal Colon, the only ship remaining, was speeding along the coast, with the Oregon and Brooklyn, followed by the New York, Admiral Sampson’s flagship, in close pursuit. But it was a vain attempt at escape; about fifty miles from the harbour of Santiago the Colon was driven ashore, shattered by shells and on fire in many places. This was at one o’clock, and thus it had taken less than five hours for the glorious Yankee ships with their gallant crews to destroy the Spanish squadron and capture its officers and crews. And this was effected with a loss to the victor of but one man killed, while the losses of the Spaniards amounted to more than six hundred killed and thirteen hundred prisoners!

This disparity in casualties might be considered miraculous were it not for the notorious fact that Spanish gunners can not shoot, and that on this particular occasion many of them were intoxicated and fired wildly; while the Yankee sailors, trained by long practice, made all their shots “tell” with terrible effect. It was then seen that, more than to battle ships and belts of armour, more than to speed and calibre of cannon, the American nation was indebted for victory to the men behind the guns! The Spaniards were brave even to rashness; they may have fought equally well with the Americans, yet they did not possess their skill, their tenacity of purpose, their intelligence.

It was a glorious victory, yet tempered with regret for the fallen foe. The national sentiment of pity and sympathy was voiced by Captain Philip, of the Texas, who, when his crew sent up shouts of exultation at the sight of the shattered Vizcaya’s men driven from their guns by an explosion, cried out: “Don’t cheer, boys; those poor fellows are dying!” And every effort was put forth to save the survivors, by those who so recently had been intent upon their destruction.