CHAPTER XXIII.
SPAIN AND HER COLONIES.
Although the present King of Spain, Alfonso XIII, is the great-great-grandson of Charles IV, Don Carlos V, the “pretender,” is also a great-grandson of that monarch, and has probably a more strictly legitimate claim to the throne than its occupant. Yet again, the mother of Alfonso XIII, the Queen-Regent Christina, although frequently alluded to by some of her subjects as “that Hapsburg woman,” can claim an unbroken line of descent from Isabella and Ferdinand, through Ferdinand I, second son of “Juana Loca” and Philip of Burgundy. Thus the ancestry of his maternal parent may be said to legitimize this titular King of Spain, while his posthumous birth “has excited a feeling of pitying loyalty which may help to secure the Bourbon dynasty in the last kingdom which is left to it.”[1]
Spain, under the regency, has been governed by a constitutional monarchy, which was proclaimed in 1876. By its Constitution, the king is inviolable; he is the executive, and the power to make laws is vested in him and the Cortes, which comprises a senate and a congress, coequal in authority. The senators are of three classes: First, those by their own right, as grandees of the kingdom, privileged through their titles and possessions; in the second place, those nominated by the Crown; in the third, those elected by the communal and provincial states, the church, universities, etc. Congress is composed of deputies, at the rate of one to every fifty thousand in the population; though since 1878 Cuba has been entitled to one in every forty thousand of free inhabitants paying taxes to the amount of twenty-five dollars annually.
The whole country is, or should be, represented in the legislative power, and by the Constitution mutual checks are placed upon both king and Cortes; for while the former issues his decrees, yet they must be countersigned by one of his ministers, and he can not marry without their approval. Further details of government are divided amongst the ministers—of war, marine, agriculture, commerce, public works, justice, finance, colonies, foreign affairs, and a president of the council.
Thus, while the king might be morally responsible for an unpopular law, yet he could not be held accountable through his inviolability, and the odium of it would fall upon the ministers of his appointing, who might placate popular resentment by resigning. This explanation will account for the frequent changes in the ministry, not only during the reign of Alfonso XII, but under the regency. After the death of Alfonso XII, and after the queen regent had taken the oath of allegiance to the Constitution, a ministry was formed under the leadership of the great Liberal, Señor Sagasta, to whom the Conservative Canovas promised his support, as well as the Republican Castelar. Beneath the shadow of their great calamity, all parties nobly rallied to the support of the queen with a loyalty which was, if anything, intensified by the birth of the infant Alfonso XIII, on May 17, 1886. But in September of that year a revolt broke out under General Villafranca, in which ten thousand men were more or less implicated, and which was suppressed only after great exertions on the part of the loyal troops. The premier, Sagasta, had pledged himself to reforms of many kinds, but he had the greatest difficulty in redeeming them without the support of the Government officials, who were as corrupt as they were numerous; for, since the times when Spain owned vast colonial possessions, there had always been a corrupt official class revelling in the uncounted millions that overflowed from the colonial treasury. Even so late as 1888 it was estimated that nearly three million dollars were embezzled during that year by civil employees, and thus the annual deficit was vastly enhanced.
So, Liberal and Conservative ministries alternated every little while, sometimes Canovas being in power, and again Sagasta. The position of prime minister to the regency was at best a thankless task, and only the highest patriotism could induce one to accept its onerous duties. In 1893, for instance, Señor Sagasta was stoned by a mob at San Sebastian; and in 1896, on the 7th of June, that upright and patriotic statesman, Señor A. Canovas del Castillo, was assassinated by an Italian anarchist; at the same time, other anarchists were attempting to excite a revolution by means of bombs and dynamite. The trivial pretexts upon which a ministry might be overthrown are illustrated in an incident of the queen regent’s journey from Madrid to Valencia on matters of state. She intrusted her nominal powers to the Infanta Isabella, as also the military watchword; but the latter concluded that she would take a little journey, and she in turn informed the military governor, General Campos, that the “watchword” would be given him at the proper time by her sister Eulalia. Thereupon General Campos announced that, inasmuch as Eulalia was married to the Duc de Montpensier, who held only the military rank of captain, he, a general, could not, of course, receive the countersign from a subordinate! The Minister of War being appealed to, General Campos resigned, and the affair was not concluded until after the resignation of the entire ministry, and Premier Sagasta had twice surrounded himself with a new body of advisers. It would seem, indeed, that etiquette, not patriotism, was paramount at the court of Spain! Next to etiquette, superstition perhaps holds rank; for quite recently the bones of a thirteenth-century saint were carried through the streets of Madrid, followed by a procession of eight hundred priests, in order that a threatened drought might be averted and the war with Cuba concluded.
At the beginning of the year 1898 Spain’s colonial possessions in America comprised Cuba and Puerto Rico, the former with an area of about 45,000 square miles, and a population then estimated at 1,600,000; the latter, about 3,600 square miles in area, and with 813,000 inhabitants. In Asia, the Philippine Islands, about 2,000 in number, 114,300 square miles in area, and with a population of about 8,000,000; the Carolines and Palaos, 560 square miles in area, and 36,000 population; the Sulu Islands, 950 square miles, and 75,000 inhabitants; and the Marianne or Ladrone Islands, 420 square miles in area, and with 10,000 population—a total of 164,830 square miles, and 10,521,000 people. In Africa and off its west coast, several small colonies, aggregating 3,650 miles in area, and 461,000 population. A grand total in America, Asia, and Africa of about 168,480 square miles, and 10,982,000 population. Thus, notwithstanding her enormous losses in the past, Spain still held foreign possessions, at the opening of 1898, with an aggregate area nearly seven-eighths that of the mother country, and a population more than half as large.
Three centuries and more ago Spain swayed the world, the possessions pertaining to her great empire being vaster than those to-day controlled by Great Britain. Her losses began near the close of the sixteenth century, under Philip II, when her North African provinces slipped away; under Philip III she lost Naples, Sicily, and Burgundy; early in the seventeenth century she lost the Netherlands; a little later, the rich Spice Islands of the East; in 1640, Portugal; in 1659, the Pyrenean provinces of France; in 1704 Gibraltar fell into British hands, and has been retained by Britain ever since; in 1800 Louisiana was ceded to France, and that vast territory was forever lost when it was sold by Bonaparte to the United States in 1803. The first quarter of the nineteenth century saw the severance from Spain of all her South American colonies, Central America, Mexico, and the Floridas; the year before its close she lost her last remaining islands in the West Indies—Cuba and Puerto Rico; and in Asia, the Philippines and the Sulus.
Rapidly reviewing the barbarous colonial policy of Spain—a policy which has been consistently cruel and rapacious ever since it was inaugurated in the time of Ferdinand and Isabella—the only wonder is that she so long retained such vast and distant possessions, separated from the governing country by broad oceans, and containing peoples so numerous and dissimilar. The first large island discovered by Columbus, which still retains its native name of Cuba, was inhabited by Indians of gentle nature, courteous and kind. They were numerous also, and cultivated the most fertile portions of the island. For nearly twenty years after the discovery Cuba was left in peace; but when the settlements were founded, the barbarities of Haiti and the Bahamas were re-enacted, the Indians were enslaved, and reduced to such a condition of misery that hundreds killed themselves in despair. It was not many years, in truth, before they had entirely disappeared, having been murdered, directly and indirectly, by the despicable Spaniards.
To fill their places, the Spaniards imported negro slaves from Africa, who were treated, like the Indians, with excessive cruelty, but who were more tenacious of life than the unfortunate aborigines, and their descendants constitute a large proportion of the Cuban population at the present time. One of the largest and wealthiest of Spain’s islands beyond the sea, Cuba early became a prey to Spanish adventurers and English freebooters. For more than three hundred years, except for a short period in 1762, Cuba has been in the clutches of Spain, her lands cultivated until within a few years by slave labour, her revenues plundered by rapacious officials. Gradually there has grown up a native population, distinct from the “peninsular” Spanish—a population speaking the same language as the immigrants from the home country, yet differing from them, inasmuch as about half the islanders have mulatto or negro blood in their veins, and are looked upon and treated by the “peninsulars” as inferiors.
During more than three hundred and fifty years the natives patiently submitted to oppression and extortion in every form; but the political disquietude in Spain was soon reflected in her colonies, and long after the loss of Mexico, Central and South America to the motherland, Cuba attempted to break the chains that bound her to Spain. There was an uprising of the blacks in 1844, and in 1851 a filibustering raid under General Lopez, a Venezuelan, who was killed in his third invasion of the island, as well as several filibusters from the United States. An offer to purchase the island, shortly after, made to Spain by the President of the United States, met with no favour, as Spanish pride and interests were against it.
The most serious revolt against the Spaniards occurred in 1868, consequent upon the distracted condition of Spain during the revolutionary proceedings which exiled Isabella II. The leader of this revolt, Carlos de Cespedes, was subsequently elected president of a republic which the insurgents finally set up, and for ten years, during which at least seventy-five thousand Spanish soldiers perished in the island, and the natives suffered every conceivable indignity from the “peninsulars,” the war was waged, only to be concluded by a deceitful promise of reforms which were never granted. General Martinez Campos, then the Captain-General of Cuba, and authorized representative of Spain, signed the “capitulation” of El Zanjon in 1878, by which the insurgents were induced to surrender, under a pledge that their demands should be acceded to; but Señor Canovas, then Prime Minister of Spain, refused to recognise this treaty, and so all their terrible sacrifices came to naught. It was but natural that the patriots should feel resentful; but they remained quiescent for seventeen years, at the end of which period, in February, 1895, the long-smouldering embers of revolt again burst into flame.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CUBA’S FIGHT FOR FREEDOM.
While it may be difficult to write a dispassionate account of a war in which the sympathies of the writer have been ardently enlisted on one side as against the other, and to paint a picture which lacks the perspective afforded by the lapse of time, yet an attempt will be made to present such an account and such a picture as will stand the test of unprejudiced criticism.
The object of the insurgents during the ten years’ war was to secure reforms in the national administration, actual representation in the Cortes, and amelioration of their intolerable condition. They secured nothing, for though eventually granted the privilege of representation, in 1878, this privilege was nullified by the representatives being mainly selected from the ranks of the peninsulars themselves! And now, in 1895, having in mind the duplicity by which they had been tricked, the Cuban patriots aimed at nothing less than independence! This idea of actual and complete severance from Spain they have consistently persisted in from the very first; and when the end came, finding them impoverished and starving, their ranks decimated by war and disease, they still clung to the rock of independence, upon which they purposed to found their long-cherished republic.
Dominated by this grand idea, animated by a resolve that nothing could shake, the leaders of the revolt of 1895 were mainly those who had survived the war of 1868-’78, such as the brothers Maceo, Gomez, and Garcia. The veteran Gomez was their recognised chief, and under him they withstood the assaults of Spanish arms for more than three years, the number of Spanish soldiers at the termination of the struggle amounting to more than one hundred thousand. Spain sent to Cuba her best commanders and the flower of her soldiery, many thousands of whom, fighting the cause of despotism against that of freedom, fell victims to Spanish barbarities. The redoubtable General Campos, the “pacificator” of the former war, was sent out with ample means and placed in supreme control; but, though with one hundred thousand troops at his command, after the cost of the war had mounted to more than sixty million dollars, he was recalled, and the notorious General Weyler sent in his place.
Whatever may be charged against General Campos, he was at least humane, as compared with his successor. It was through no fault of his, but owing to the perfidy of the home Government, that the treaty of Zanjon had not been respected; and it was even charged against him in Spain that he rather favoured than earnestly combated the insurgents. At all events, no such charge could be brought against the inhuman Weyler, who at once began a war of extermination, laid waste the country, and committed such atrocities that his name will ever be held in detestation by succeeding generations. Unable to overcome the insurgents in honourable warfare, Captain-General Weyler inaugurated a system of butcheries that caused a shudder to run through all civilized communities when informed of his wanton waste of human life. Although he had behind him the vast resources of Spain, held command of an army four times as large as the combined forces of the insurgents, and could have summoned to his aid a magnificent array of naval vessels, yet he could not cope with those half-starved, ragged, and nearly naked patriots, fighting for their lives and for their liberties.
When captured—which was not often—the insurgents were treated as bandits, and suffered ignominious deaths; and it is no palliation of Spanish crimes to say that the insurgents themselves adopted the barbarous methods of their enemy. Little can be said in excuse of the atrocities committed on either side, for the system of warfare they were pursuing was not honourable. Yet, despite the knowledge that they were courting certain death by their insistence, the insurgents put forth every effort to drive the Spaniards within the towns and cities, and were in the main successful.
General Weyler divided the whole island into departments, and across it, from northern to southern coast, at intervals stretched a system of rude fortifications called a trocha, guarded by his soldiery. Through these trochas the insurgents broke repeatedly, at one time sweeping the island from the eastern province of Santiago to the extreme western province of Pinar del Rio. In the spring of 1896 even Havana felt a tremor of fear at the coming of the native hordes, which encamped within striking distance of the forts around the city. But though the gallant Antonio Maceo raided around Havana and ravaged Pinar del Rio, he met death finally through treachery, and the immediate danger was averted. There was at no time any real danger that the capital and other strong cities like Matanzas, Cienfuegos, and Santiago should be attacked and overcome, since the insurgents had no artillery, little ammunition, and insufficient forces to reduce and capture the strongholds of the Spaniards. But they made their camps in inaccessible fastnesses, pursuing a guerrilla mode of warfare, pouncing upon the enemy suddenly without warning, and carrying off his stores and ammunition trains, blowing up the tracks and viaducts of railroads, setting fire to unprotected plantations, and destroying the growing crops of tobacco and sugar cane. And what the insurgents failed to destroy, General Weyler seized, having determined upon a policy of destruction and extermination that would eventually reduce this fair island, so long known as the “Pearl of the Antilles,” from a most fertile country to an uninhabited desert. To this end he issued his edicts of “reconcentration,” by which all inhabitants of the country districts were ordered to concentrate in and around the cities, and their farms and gardens were destroyed. This was for the purpose of depriving the insurgents, who ranged the country parts and subsisted upon the natives who sympathized with them, of all food and supplies whatsoever. An inhuman policy, but not original with Weyler, for Spaniards had pursued it before, though in times when the amenities of civilization were not recognised as they are to-day; and the whole military world repudiated it and reprobated its authors.
No tongue, no pen, can adequately describe the sufferings, the callous cruelties, that ensued when the reconcentrados—as these unhappy victims of Weyler’s edicts were teamed—were finally gathered in the cities, where they could be watched by the tyrant’s soldiers. For, though they were assembled by his orders, against their inclinations, having abandoned homes and farms, every means of subsistence, they were left to starve and die with scarcely any effort being made for their relief. First scores, then hundreds, then thousands, starved in the streets, fell and died like dogs; fathers of families were compelled to witness the agonizing sufferings of their children, without the possibility of affording them relief; mothers lost their little ones by slow starvation, while themselves enduring the torments of diseases induced by their condition. One by one, family after family, finally the inhabitants of whole villages and hamlets, perished miserably, and it at last seemed evident to Weyler that his policy would prevail and the insurgents succumb to starvation, if not to powder and bullets.
But meanwhile—though the author of all these torments gloated over the miseries he had created, though he grew immensely rich from the plunder of his victims—his soldiers could not prevail against the intrepid insurgents. They hid in caves and swamps, they grew gaunt and weak from starvation, but they still persisted in their determination to resist to the death.
So far as possible, through suppression of news, through accounts of victories never achieved, successes never gained, and reports of insurgent atrocities never perpetrated, the Spaniards had misinformed the world at large regarding conditions in Cuba. The Spanish queen, who was concerned with a mother’s solicitude for the throne upon which her boy-king sat; the Spanish people, inured to cruelty through traditions from the past and the bullfights of modern times: the people of the “motherland” of Cuba, gazed complacently upon these unparalleled sufferings of a rebellious population; but the rest of the world finally protested.
“This is not war; this is butchery; these atrocities must cease!” was the universal protest. Still, the cause of humanity, while broad as the world and of universal acceptation, at first found no champion. The weeks and months went by, and the reconcentrados died like wild beasts, neglected, spurned, by their captors, apparently forgotten by all fellow-creatures. And yet hands were stretched out to them, hearts were bleeding for them (though vainly, perforce), in a country adjacent to their island, from which it is separated only by a channel less than one hundred miles in width. One hundred miles away, only a few hours’ sail, lay the borders of a nation pledged to the maintenance of human rights and the righting of human wrongs. Why, then, could it not step in and stay the progress of that car of Juggernaut before it was too late?
Why, indeed? Why did not England, Russia, or Germany stay the hand of the Turk when he was cutting the throats of helpless Armenians? of the Moslem, when he was murdering the Christian people of Crete?
Because international diplomacy has recognised the right of a country or nation to deal with its recalcitrant subjects as it may deem best. When nations go to war it is seldom for the righting of real wrongs, but on some trivial pretext like that which precipitated the conflict between France and Germany in 1870—a country’s “injured honour,” but rarely its injured people!
The time arrived, however, when Cuba’s neighbors in the United States could no longer turn a deaf ear to the appeals of suffering humanity so near to their shores. It is true that the people of the United States had been outspoken in their sympathy long before; that a Cuban junta had found a refuge in New York, whence it sent relief and planned expeditions for the benefit of the insurgents. In accordance with international usage, the Government of the United States used every effort to frustrate the plans of the junta and to maintain an attitude of neutrality, since the insurgents had not been accorded belligerency—that is, their cause was not recognised by nations—and in the eyes of the nation with which they were at war they were only rebels against lawful authority. It was a delicate situation for the Americans: their sympathies enlisted in behalf of the Cuban rebels, yet constrained by their regard for the laws from giving them governmental assistance!
For several years, and during at least two administrations, the majority of the newspapers of the country had urged Congress to accord the Cubans belligerent rights, by which their status as fighters would be defined and their acts in a sense legitimized. At last the clamour became so great that Congress could no longer ignore what was the very evident wish of the people of the United States; yet it is doubtful if decisive action would have been immediately taken had not an incident occurred which shook the nation to its very centre.
The condition of things in Havana became so alarming that the consul-general of the United States requested the presence of a war vessel for the protection of Americans there, and the battleship Maine, one of the finest in the navy, was sent on a friendly visit to that port. It has since been shown that her presence was unnecessary at that time; but, at all events, the Americans were well within their rights in sending her there, and she was received with the usual honours. Shortly after her arrival, however, on February 15, 1898, while lying peacefully at the buoy to which she was shown by the Spanish captain of the port, she was blown up and sunk, with two hundred and sixty of her officers and crew.
Through the country shot a thrill of horror at this dastardly act, succeeded by instant and universal demands for vengeance. Calm counsels prevailed, however. A board of inquiry was convened by order of the President, and after weeks of calm investigation, during which the American public awaited the result with splendid forbearance, yet with ever-increasing determination to punish the actual perpetrators of this fiendish deed, it was officially announced that the explosion which had wrecked the Maine and sent so many of her brave men into eternity was from without, and presumably from a submarine mine!
Now, submarine mines of the size and power sufficient to sink a great battleship can not be placed in position by mere individual effort; and the instant inference was that the Spanish Government, which had caused the harbour of Havana to be furtively mined, was, if not the actual criminal, the cause of the crime! Still, even when this conviction was forced home upon those most unwilling to believe in the criminality of Spain, President McKinley refused to commit himself to hasty action. It was not until the 20th of April, when, as he himself confessed, he had “exhausted every effort to relieve the intolerable condition of affairs at our doors,” that he availed himself of the authority conferred upon him by Congress to intervene in Cuba, using the military and naval forces of the United States, and sent an ultimatum to Spain. He had wisely treated the Maine explosion, aggravating as it was, as an incident merely; but as affording conclusive proof “of an intolerable state of things in Cuba, sufficiently acute to warrant the intervention of the United States.”
On the very day of the ultimatum to Spain, the Spanish minister at Washington demanded his passports, and on the next day the American minister left Madrid. War was virtually declared on the 21st of April, 1898.
CHAPTER XXV.
WAR WITH THE UNITED STATES.
President McKinley had opposed the inclination of the people for immediate hostilities, and did not sanction an appeal to the arbitrament of battle until he had exhausted every device of diplomacy; yet, when once committed to war, he was most energetic in his efforts to prepare the country for its task. Himself a soldier, having served gallantly through the civil war between the States, he knew the value of immediate action. On the 22d of April he issued a proclamation declaring the principal ports of Cuba in a state of blockade, and on the 23d, a call for one hundred and twenty-five thousand volunteers to serve for two years or the war. A further call was later issued, raising the number of volunteers to two hundred thousand, and this appeal was eagerly responded to by the patriotic people. They showed the sincerity of their convictions by their acts, and the quotas of the various States were rapidly filled; camps of instruction were established in the East and South; arsenals, foundries, shipyards, and all branches of military and naval construction, were soon the scenes of unsurpassed activity.
In a message to Congress, in 1898, President McKinley had said: “The long trial has proved that the object for which Spain has waged the war can not be attained. The fire of insurrection may flame or may smoulder with varying seasons, but it has not been, and it is plain that it can not be, extinguished by present methods. The only hope of relief and repose from a condition which can no longer be endured is the enforced pacification of Cuba. In the name of humanity, in the name of civilization, in behalf of endangered American interests which give us the right and the duty to speak and to act, the war in Cuba must stop.”
“In view of all this, the Congress was asked to authorize and empower the President to take measures to secure a final termination of hostilities between Spain and the people of Cuba, and to secure in the island the establishment of a stable government, capable of maintaining order, observing its international obligations, insuring peace and tranquility, the security of its citizens as well as our own, and for the accomplishment of those ends to use the military and naval forces of the United States as might be necessary; with added authority to continue generous relief to the starving people of Cuba.”
The response of the Congress, after nine days of earnest deliberation, was to pass the memorable joint resolution declaring:
“First, That the people of the island of Cuba are, and of right ought to be, free and independent.
“Second, That it is the duty of the United States to demand, and the Government of the United States does hereby demand, that the Government of Spain at once relinquish its authority and government in the island of Cuba and withdraw its land and naval forces from Cuba and Cuban waters.
“Third, That the President of the United States be, and he hereby is, directed and empowered to use the entire land and naval forces of the United States, and to call into the actual service of the United States the militia of the several States, to such extent as may be necessary to carry these resolutions into effect.
“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.”
This resolution was approved by the Executive on the next day, April 20th. A copy was at once communicated to the Spanish minister at the capital, who forthwith announced that his continuance in Washington had thereby become impossible, and asked for his passports, which were given him. He thereupon withdrew from Washington, leaving the protection of Spanish interests in the United States to the French ambassador and the Austro-Hungarian minister.
Congress had voted the President, in anticipation of war and the necessity for preparation, the sum of fifty million dollars, to be used at his discretion; and this money was soon spent for powder, guns, forts, and mines, for coast defence, auxiliary ships for the navy, cannon, army and naval stores, medicines in vast quantities, and clothing for the new recruits.
“Under the direction of the Chief of Engineers, submarine mines were placed at the most exposed points. Before the outbreak of war permanent mining casemates and cable galleries had been constructed at nearly all important harbours. Most of the torpedo material was not to be found in the market, and had to be specially manufactured. Under date of April 19th, district officers were directed to take all preliminary measures, short of the actual attaching of the loaded mines to the cables, and on April 22d telegraphic orders were issued to place the loaded mines in position. The aggregate number of mines placed was 1,535, at the principal harbours from Maine to California.”
The standing army of the United States in time of peace did not exceed twenty-five thousand men, but the State militia afforded drafts of soldiers who were soon converted into good fighting material in the various camps of instruction.
One beneficent effect of this appeal to arms in support of a cause which enlisted the highest sympathies, was the obliteration of all sectional lines that had existed on account of the civil war between the States. Many Confederate veterans, who had fought against the Union, now hastened to offer their services in its defence. A wave of patriotism swept the country from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from the Great Lakes to the Florida Channel. The solidarity of the country was made apparent when such brave officers of the civil war as Generals Lee and Wheeler, who had fought on the “losing side,” sought and obtained positions of a rank commensurate with their great abilities. It was conclusively shown that the Americans had not, as often charged by their enemies, become weak and effeminate in sordid pursuits, and lost to all sense of honour and moral obligations.
The nation, then, responded nobly to the President’s call for soldiers and supplies, and within a week its naval vessels were blockading the ports of Cuba, and its armies moving southward to a base whence they could promptly invade the enemy’s territory. On the 27th of April the Spanish batteries of Matanzas, Cuba, were shelled by Admiral Sampson’s flagship, the New York, and other war vessels, though without any material advantage. On the 29th of April a Spanish fleet, commanded by Admiral Cervera, and consisting of four armoured cruisers and three torpedo boats and “destroyers,” left port in the Cape de Verde Islands and sailed for West Indian waters.
At the outset it was believed that the Spanish navy was vastly superior to that of the United States, for there were several battle ships of vast tonnage and heaviest armament, and cruisers of greater speed than any possessed by the Americans. So, when it was at first rumoured, then asserted as a certainty, that a formidable Spanish fleet was headed toward American shores, all was anxiety along the Atlantic coast. Nothing is more certain than that the Spaniards, had they but possessed the necessary dash and vigour, might have ravaged a portion of the coast and destroyed several cities before their enemies’ scattered fleets could have concentrated to destroy them. But while at the outset Spain had cruisers and battle ships, torpedo boats and “destroyers,” in numbers exceeding their opponents, yet there was one factor she had overlooked—the men who manned the ships and trained the guns! While the American navy was at first inferior, in guns and ships, to that of Spain, yet the men had been trained to a higher state of efficiency, than the Spanish sailors, as will be shown a little later on.
But while a state of terrible suspense prevailed regarding the whereabouts of Admiral Cervera’s Spanish fleet, then presumably on its way to destroy the coast cities of the United States, there transpired something in the far-away isles of the Pacific that at once dissipated the gloom and restored confidence.
When, at the outbreak of the war, Great Britain declared all her ports neutral—that is, not open to war vessels of either combatant—the United States Asiatic squadron, consisting of four protected cruisers, two gunboats, and a despatch boat, was lying in the British port of Hong Kong. Driven out of this port by the proclamation of neutrality, Commodore George Dewey, in command of the squadron, acting under orders from Washington, steamed direct for the Philippine Islands, valuable possessions of Spain, discovered by Magellan in 1521, and settled by Spaniards in 1565. He may have had orders to go to the Philippines in any event; but now that he was deprived of a port, Commodore Dewey felt constrained to take possession of another; so at daylight on the morning of the 1st of May, 1898, his little fleet was discovered by Spaniards on the watch groping its way, over sunken mines and between defensive batteries, into the bay of Manila! The rich city of Manila, and perhaps the entire Philippine chain, consisting of about two thousand islands, was to be the ultimate prize; but the immediate objective was the Spanish fleet assembled for the protection of the capital. This fleet, consisting of seven cruisers and several gunboats, was at last discovered by Commodore Dewey, drawn up in battle array in the harbour of Cavité, an inlet of Manila Bay, and at once attacked.[2]
Then ensued a scene of carnage, and ultimately a victory, which was, perhaps, all things considered, without a parallel in history. For, though the opposing vessels were very well matched, and their crews were about the same in number, in a few hours every Spanish ship was either blown up or sunk, and the land batteries of Cavité were completely silenced! The Spanish loss was terrible, amounting to three hundred and eighty-one in killed and wounded; but on the American side not one was killed, only nine were wounded, and eventually every man returned to duty!
Such a decisive victory for the Americans, and such a crushing defeat for Spain, had its effect upon the respective countries, raising the spirits of the “Yankees,” and correspondingly depressing those of the Spaniards. The city of Manila, which was dependent upon the fleet for its protection, was now absolutely at the mercy of the American commodore; but he, as merciful as he was brave and invincible, refrained from bombarding it, preferring to await the arrival of troops for its capture. As soon as possible troops were despatched to the Philippines; but it was the last week in May before the first were aboard the transports, and about a month more before they arrived at Manila. Eventually some twenty thousand American troops were concentrated at Manila, and then the city was assaulted and captured, on August 13th, by the combined action of the army and navy.
It was a strange chance that threw the Philippines into the hands of the United States; for, in the first place, it is said that when the New World was divided between Portugal and Spain, by the celebrated “bull” of Pope Alexander VI, in 1493 (according to which all discoveries after that west of an ideal meridian were to belong to Spain, and those east to Portugal), the Philippines would rightfully have fallen to the last-named country. But by a mistake of Magellan, their discoverer, they were placed twenty or thirty degrees nearer to America than they really were, and the error was never rectified. So, through an error of the great Magellan, and the prowess of the gallant Dewey, the United States were put in possession of one of Spain’s most valuable colonies.
It is said that republics are ungrateful; but if the American Republic has been open to that accusation in the past, it nobly redeemed itself during the campaign against the Spaniards. Commodore Dewey was at once advanced to the rank of rear admiral, and the thanks of the nation were conveyed by its President to the brave sailors under him, with the promise of substantial emoluments later on. The moral effect of this victory was vastly greater than the mere material acquisitions; for it corrected a long-existent misapprehension in Europe as to our abilities, and advanced us at once an immeasurable distance in its estimation.
Meanwhile in the United States every effort was still put forth to equip the armies, to perfect the fleets, and to bring the conflict to an early and honourable close. Without animosity toward their foes, with the highest motives and incentives, the Americans yet relaxed no endeavour in the vigorous prosecution of the war.
The first American victims fell on May 11th, in an engagement with the batteries of Cardenas, Cuba, when, Ensign Bagley and four sailors on the gunboat Winslow were killed by Spanish shells; and the next day, in the bombardment of San Juan, Puerto Rico, one sailor was killed. This bombardment was merely an incident in the search of our fleets for Admiral Cervera’s squadron, the whereabouts of which remained a mystery for three long weeks. During this time a “flying squadron” was organized and held at Newport News, under command of Commodore Schley, ready to steam to the succour of whatever point should be menaced by the Spanish ships, either North or South. At last it became known that the Spaniards had been seen in the West Indies, and the flying squadron sailed for those waters. Admiral Sampson meanwhile was cruising in the Caribbean Sea, seeking an engagement with the Spanish fleet; and as it was thought that the enemy might seek shelter at San Juan, a port on the north side of the island of Puerto Rico, it was visited; but with no result other than the bombardment of the fortifications by the American fleet, though without inflicting any material injury.
Word came at last that Admiral Cervera had, in a roundabout way, safely reached the landlocked harbour of Santiago de Cuba on May 19th, and there he was “bottled up,” a few days later, by the flying squadron, which was soon re-enforced by the fleet under Admiral Sampson, who took command. Even then, there was much doubt as to the actual location of the Spanish squadron, until Lieutenant Victor Blue by a daring reconnoissance penetrated the enemy’s lines, at the risk of being captured and shot as a spy, and ascertained beyond peradventure that the fleet was in the harbour of Santiago.
While the United States Government had been concentrating troops at Tampa, and its fleets at Key West and off the port of Havana, yet it was apparently uncertain at which point to invade Cuban soil, until the arrival of the Spanish fleet at Santiago suddenly determined the future theatre of war. As the destruction of Admiral Cervera’s powerful squadron was of more importance than anything else, all the energies of the Government were now put forth to accomplish it. The fleet under command of Admiral Sampson included the largest and most heavily armoured cruisers and battle ships, besides smaller craft, as gunboats and torpedo destroyers. Added to these, the splendid battle ship Oregon, which had been ordered from San Francisco to the theatre of war, arrived during the blockade of Santiago after a memorable “run” around South America and through the Caribbean Sea. Thus the American admiral had a fleet vastly superior to that within the harbour; but the problem was, how to get at it! Securely intrenched behind the frowning hills around the harbour entrance, which latter was filled with torpedoes and submarine mines, the Spanish squadron was for the time safe from harm.
A constant watch was kept on the narrow entrance to Santiago’s harbour, on one side guarded by the ancient Morro Castle, and on the other by more modern batteries, upon which at night were trained powerful electric search-lights; and not a moment passed during any twenty-four hours in which the captive squadron could have escaped unobserved from the trap in which it was caught.
The actual invasion of Cuba was begun on the 10th of June at the bay of Guantanamo, to the eastward of Santiago, by a force of six hundred marines, when several men were killed before a secure camp could be obtained. Among the great results of this occupation was the capture of the submarine cable station, by means of which fleet and army were soon put in communication with Washington.
On the 3d of June a deed of heroism was performed in the sinking of the collier Merrimac across the narrow channel of Santiago harbour by Lieutenant Hobson and a crew of seven men. This was done under a heavy fire from the Spanish batteries, and while exposed to the torpedoes set off by the enemy when they discovered this attempt to obstruct the channel. Lieutenant Hobson and his men escaped death almost by a miracle, only to fall into the hands of the enemy, by whom they were taken to the Morro and imprisoned. The attempt to block the channel and thus absolutely prevent the escape of the squadron within, was unavailing; but this does not render the deed the less heroic. And to show of what material the American navy is composed—a navy that has been derided by Europe and made the object of ridicule by some citizen politicians—it was reported that hundreds volunteered for this desperate enterprise, even though well aware that it meant to those who took part in it almost certain death!
In response to the request of Admiral Sampson, who represented that he would not risk forcing the harbour entrance, filled as it was with mines, an expedition of sixteen thousand men was soon afloat on transports in Tampa harbour, Florida, and after long delays, reached the coast of Cuba, off Santiago, on the 22d of June. These troops, comprising the Fifth Army Corps, commanded by General Shafter, were soon landed at Baiquiri and Siboney, despite the tremendous surf, and lost no time in possessing themselves of the country adjacent.
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.