“Fourth—That the United States hereby disclaims any disposition or intention to exercise sovereignty, jurisdiction or control over said island, except for the pacification thereof, and asserts its determination when that is accomplished to leave the government and control of the island to its people.”

The ultimatum embodied in the foregoing being rejected by Spain, diplomatic relations were severed and hostilities ensued.

On May 1, at daybreak, the Asiatic squadron, commanded by Commodore Dewey, arrived at Manila from Hong Kong. At Cavite, within the harbor, protected by four batteries, lay the Spanish fleet. It was commanded by Admiral Patricio Montojo. The squadron proceeded up the bay unmolested and made for the naval station. Two mines were exploded, but ineffectively. At five o’clock and ten minutes the Spaniards opened fire. Commodore Dewey set the signals, and his entire squadron advanced to short range. The squadron consisted of the following cruisers and gunboats: “Olympia,” “Baltimore,” “Boston,” “Raleigh,” “Concord,” “Petrel,” and “McCulloch.”

At 5.30 the “Olympia’s” 8-inch guns opened, and the squadron swung in front of the Spanish ships and forts in single file, firing their port guns. Then, wheeling, they passed back, firing their starboard guns. This maneuver was repeated five times, the entire American fleet passing all the Spanish ships and batteries at each maneuver, and each time drawing in closer and closer and delivering fire at more deadly range. During two hours and a half there was tremendous resistance by the Spaniards. They had eleven ships and five land batteries in full play, against six American warships. But the American marksmanship was faultless. Every shot seemed to count against ship or shore battery, while most of the Spanish powder was burned in vain. At 7.45 A.M. the American fleet withdrew to ascertain damages and permit the smoke to clear. It was seen then that several Spanish ships were crippled or burning, and it was found that the American vessels had suffered hardly at all. Admiral Dewey called his captains into consultation and arrangements were made for another attack. At 10.40 the attack was renewed, the “Baltimore” leading. She advanced right upon the enemy, shelling them constantly, and the other Americans followed, working their guns as rapidly as they could load and fire. The effect of this assault was terrific. Ship after ship of the Spaniards sunk or was run ashore to keep them from sinking or falling into American hands. At 12.45 P.M. the Spaniards struck their colors in token of surrender. Admiral Patricio Montojo fled to Manila, and most of the survivors fled with him. This ended the work of May 1.

On May 2, Commodore Dewey landed a force of marines at Cavite. They completed the destruction of the Spanish fleet and batteries and established a guard for the protection of the Spanish hospitals. The resistance of the forts was weak. The “Olympia” turned a few guns on the Cavite arsenal, and its magazine at once exploded, killing some and wounding many. This practically ended the fire from the batteries, the Spanish artillerists fearing to face the American gunners. “Remember the ‘Maine’!” was the word continually passed between the ships, and every American officer, every “Jackie,” was eager to do his utmost.

After Manila and the defeat of Admiral Montojo, the successive and concluding events of the Hispano-American war include Admiral Sampson’s bombardment of San Juan; Hobson’s heroic experiment with the “Merrimac”; General Shafter’s campaign; the destruction of Cervera’s squadron; the capitulation of Santiago; General Miles’s tour in Porto Rico, and the overtures for peace. These events may be conveniently summarized as follows:

The bombardment of San Juan was the result of a reconnaissance. The Spanish fleet, under command of Admiral Cervera, which it was the purpose of the Americans to capture or destroy, subsequently sought and found shelter within the harbor of Santiago, the entrance to which Admiral Sampson then proceeded to invest. There, while waiting to engage the enemy, it was thought wise to attempt to block the harbor and so prevent a possible escape. The plan originated with Lieutenant Hobson, and its execution was left to him. On the night of June 3, with a picked crew of seven volunteers, he steamed up in the collier “Merrimac” to the harbor’s entrance and sank her. From the fleet the progress of the “Merrimac” was eagerly followed.

At 3.15 the first Spanish shot was fired, coming from one of the guns on the hill to the west of the entrance. The shot was seen to splash seaward from the “Merrimac,” having passed over her. The firing became general very soon afterward, being especially fierce and rapid from the batteries inside on the left of the harbor, probably from batteries on Smith Cay. The flashes and reports were apparently those of rapid-fire guns, ranging from small automatic guns to four-inch or larger. For fifteen minutes a perfect fusillade was kept up. Then the fire slackened, and by 3.30 had almost ceased. There was a little desultory firing until about 3.45, when all became quiet. Daylight came at about five o’clock.

At about 5.15 A.M., a launch, which, under Cadet Powell, had followed the “Merrimac,” in order if possible to rescue Hobson and his men, was seen steaming from west to east, near or across the mouth of the harbor. She steamed back from east to west and began skirting the coast to the west of the entrance. The battery on the hill to the left opened fire on her, but did not make good practice. The launch continued her course as far westward as a small cove and then headed for the “Texas,” steaming at full speed. Several shots were fired at her from the battery on the left as she steamed out.

It was broad daylight by this time. Cadet Powell came alongside the “Texas” and reported that “No one had come out of the entrance of the harbor.” His words sounded like the death knell of all who had gone in on the “Merrimac.” It seemed incredible, almost impossible, any of them could have lived through the awful fire that was directed at the ship. Cadet Powell said that he had followed behind the ship at a distance of four or five hundred yards. Hobson missed the entrance of the harbor at first, having gone too far to the westward; he almost ran aground. The launch picked up the entrance and directed the “Merrimac” in. From the launch the collier was seen until she rounded the bend of the channel and until the helm had been put to port to swing her into position across the channel. There was probably no one in the fleet who did not think that all seven of the men had perished. In the afternoon, much to the surprise of every one, a tug flying a flag of truce was seen coming out of the entrance. The “Vixen,” flying a tablecloth at the fore, went to meet the tug. A Spanish officer went aboard the “Vixen” from the tug and was taken aboard the flagship. Not long afterward a signal was made that Murphy of the “Iowa” was saved and was a prisoner of war. About four o’clock another signal was made from the flagship: “Collier’s crew prisoners of war; two slightly wounded. All well.”