"The war at Manila will have to end soon or the life of the great
American Admiral will be worth nothing.
"I dined with him at Manila within a month, and am convinced that if he is not relieved of the terrible strain imposed upon him he cannot last a month longer. As he sat at the banquet table, surrounded by his staff, he looked to me like a dying man. His hair is snowy white, his face ashen, and he ate hardly anything.
"I had the pleasure of a few minutes' conversation with him when we retired to the smoking-room. Having in mind his enfeebled appearance., I asked him if he thought of returning to America soon.
"'I would like to, but my work is by no means finished here. When it is, and only then, will I return.'
"I am thoroughly convinced that only the Admiral's indomitable will has kept him up so long. The strain on him is terrible, and the climatic conditions have reduced him to a shadow.
"One of his officers said to me just before I left Manila:
"'The war will be ended by the Admiral soon or it will end him. No man can stand such a strain as he does in this climate and live long.'"
If this is to be literally accepted, and we may hope that it is overstated, there has been a distressingly unfavorable change within five months in the Admiral. His trouble is said to be with his liver. There is no question the strain upon him has been more wearing than the public have realized. Last summer his anxieties afflicted him with insomnia at night, and he has not for a day since he left Hongkong in April been free from burdens of harrassing care. His last words on the deck of the China to the Author of this Book were that the President had invited him to go home and counsel with him, but he had written the substance of what he held to be the way to deal with the Philippines, and would not leave Manila Bay "without peremptory orders to go, until all things here are settled—settled—settled," a characteristic repetition of the important word. He had already stated he wanted "two battleships" and the Oregon and Iowa were accordingly ordered to join him. Instead of anticipating pleasure from the ovations that thousands of letters and all callers assure him he could not avoid in this country he sincerely dreads them, and when told what the inevitable was whenever he put his foot on his native shore he said: "That would be very distasteful to me." He is human, and, of course, not insensible of the boundless compliment of the endless enthusiasm of the public regarding him, but he habitually insists that every man in his fleet did his duty on the day of battle and victory, and it would be "injustice to brave men if one man got all the glory." The Admiral knows the President's invitation to him to come home is a standing one, and no limit on it, but the sense of duty of the Admiral, in whose judgment there is perfect confidence, forbids. The information of his declining health will certainly result in his recall overruling his personal feeling and official purpose, if it is believed that there is danger he is sacrificing himself.
NOTES
[1] In another chapter of this story of the Philippines will be found Senor Filipe Agoncillo's personal account of this affair.