9. Lieutenant-Colonel Charles L. Potter, U.S. Vols., Chief Engineer Officer, Eighth Army Corps, will assume charge of the water supply of this city, and will report to Brigadier-General Arthur MacArthur, U.S. Vols., Military Commandant of Manila, for instructions.
By Command of Major-General Merritt:
J.B. Babcock, Adjutant-General. Official: Bentley Mott, Aid.
The responsibilities of General Merritt in his Manila, campaign were graver than the country understands, and his success was regarded as so much a matter of course that there has been forgetfulness to take into account the many circumstances that gave anxiety preceding decisions that seem easy now that they have been vindicated by events. The departure from San Francisco of the Major-General commanding the Philippine expedition was as well known to the Spanish as to the American cabinet, and there is reason to think there were no important particulars of the sailing of the third division of our Philippine soldiers unknown to enemies. There were in gold coin, a million and a half dollars in the strong box of Merritt's ship, the Newport. The Spanish spies were not as well posted as an average hackman, if they did not report the shipment of gold. It would have been a triumph for Spain to have captured the commanding general and the gold, the Astor Battery and the regular recruits with the headquarters ship, The Spanish were known to have a gunboat or two lurking in the islands within striking distance of our transports, unarmed vessels—except a few deck pieces of field artillery—with more than a thousand men on each. General Merritt wanted the escort of ships of war to make all secure, and application to Admiral Dewey to send one of his war boats, brought the statement that he could not spare a ship. Just at that time he heard of the run by Camara with the Cadiz fleet Eastward on the Mediterranean, and soon he had word that the Pelayo and her companions were in the Suez canal. General Greene had not arrived at Manila at that time, and the monitors Monterey and Monadnock were getting along slowly. Dewey knew he would have to evacuate the scene of his victory in case Camara was fully committed to go to Manila, and wait for the Monitors, and when he got them he said he would return and sink another Spanish fleet, but that was something it might be critical to explain, and General Merritt, after leaving San Francisco, did not get any news for twenty-six days. All that time he would have had no justification for surprise if he had been attacked by a Spanish gunboat, and if the Spaniards had pushed on their Rapide—the converted German liner the Normania—she could have been handled to cut off the American reinforcements on the way to the camps of the little American army already landed. When General Merritt reached Cavite, he found the situation difficult for the army and pushed things as the only way to get out of trouble. He had two armies to deal with, one the Spaniards, fiercely hostile, and the other, the Filipinos, factional and jealous, each outnumbering by five thousand the American forces with which the city was assailed and finally captured. There was no time lost, and if there had been any delay, even two days, the peace protocol would have found our army in the trenches, and the city belonging to the Spaniards. It was the energy of General Merritt, heartily shared by his division commanders, that prevented this embarrassment, which would have been a moral and military misfortune. We have given the General's orders to his troops and the Filipinos after the fall of the city—also his original statement of policy, and noted how cleverly they supported each other, and how smoothly the work of organization and administration is carried on the world is well aware. The orders deputing the officers to discharge certain duties are plain business. There was no departure from the strict, straight line of military government, and the threatened entanglements firmly touched passed away. There was nothing omitted, or superfluous, and the purpose and programme of policy was made clear by events. The confusion overcome by the genius of common sense there was order, all rights respected, the administration was a success from the beginning and continued, and is to be continued—security is established, there is public confidence in the air—the "faith and honor of the army" are inviolable, Manila is ours, and there is peace. If war comes in that quarter of the globe we shall stand on ground that earthquakes cannot shake.
CHAPTER XII
The American Army in Manila.
Why the Boys Had a Spell of Home Sickness—Disadvantages of the
Tropics—Admiral Dewey and his Happy Men—How Our Soldiers Passed
the Time on the Ships—General Merritt's Headquarters—What Is Public
Property—The Manila Water Supply—England Our Friend—Major-General
Otis, General Merritt's Successor.
The American soldiers in the Philippines were most devoted and cheerful, patient under hardship and pleasantly satisfied that they were as far to the front as anybody and seeing all there was to see during the siege of Manila. They were out in tropical rains, and the ditches they waded were deep with mud unless filled with water. They were harassed by the Spanish with the long-range Mausers at night and insufficiently provided a part of the time with rations. At best they had a very rough experience, but kept their health and wanted to go into the city with a rush. They would rather have taken chances in storming the place than sleep in the mud, as they did for twenty days.
When the defenders of Manila concluded that the honor of Spain would be preserved by the shedding of only a little blood in a hopeless struggle and fell back from very strong positions before the advance of skirmish lines, and the American columns entered the city, keeping two armies—the Spaniards and the insurgents—apart, and, taking possession, restored order and were sheltered in houses, it soon began to occur to the boys, who came out of the wet campaign looking like veterans and feeling that they had gained much by experience, that they were doing garrison duty and that it was objectionable. The soldiers who arrived on the Peru, City of Pueblo and Pennsylvania were shocked that they had missed the fight and disgusted with the news of peace. They had made an immense journey to go actively into war, and emerged from the ocean solitude to police a city in time of peace. It was their notion that they lacked occupation; that their adventure had proved an enterprise that could not become glorious.
The romance of war faded. Unquiet sensations were produced by the stories that there was nothing to do but go home, and they would soon be placed aboard the transports and homeward bound. Besides, the climate was depressing. The days were hot and the nights were not refreshing. The rations were better and there were dry places to sleep, but there was no inspiring excitement, and it was not a life worth living. War—"the front"—instead of offering incomparable varieties, became tedious—it was a bore, in fact. How could a crowded city and thronged streets be attractive in a military sense, or the scene of patriotic sacrifice, when the most arduous duty was that of police? Was it for this they had left homes in Oregon, Montana, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, Tennessee, Nebraska, Utah, California and Colorado?