The Boys of '98

“He was, however, finally convinced that the attempt of another person to carry out the multitude of details which had been in preparation by Mr. Hobson might endanger its proper execution. I therefore took the liberty to relieve him, for this reason only.

“There were hundreds of volunteers who were anxious to participate. There were a hundred and fifty men from the Iowa, nearly as many from this ship, and large numbers from all the other ships, officers and men alike.

    “W. T. SAMPSON.”

Not until the sixth of July were Hobson and his brave comrades exchanged, and then to his messmates the gallant lieutenant told the story of his perilous voyage on that morning of June 4th:

“I did not miss the entrance to the harbour,” he said, “as Cadet Powell in the launch supposed. I headed east until I got my bearings, and then made for it straight in. Then came the firing. It was grand, flashing out first from one side of the harbour and then from the other, from those big guns on the hill, the Vizcaya, lying inside the harbour, joining in.

“Troops from Santiago had rushed down when the news of the Merrimac’s coming was telegraphed, and soldiers lined the foot of the cliffs, firing wildly across, and killing each other with the cross-fire.

“The Merrimac’s steering-gear broke as she got to Estrella Point. Only three of the torpedoes on her side exploded when I touched the button. A huge submarine mine caught her full amidships, hurling the water high in the air, and tearing a great rent in her side.

“Her stern ran upon Estrella Point. Chiefly owing to the work done by the mine, she began to sink slowly. At that time she was across the channel, but before she settled the tide drifted her around. We were all aft, lying on the deck. Shells and bullets whistled around. Six-inch shells from the Vizcaya came tearing into the Merrimac, crashing into wood and iron, and passing clear through, while the plunging shots from the forts broke through her deck.

“ ‘Not a man must move,’ I said, and it was only owing to the splendid discipline of the men that we all were not killed, as the shells rained over us, and the minutes became hours of suspense. The men’s mouths became parched, but we must lie there till daylight, I told them. Now and again, one or the other of the men, lying with his face glued to the deck and wondering whether the next shell might not come our way, would say, ‘Hadn’t we better drop off now, sir?’ But I said, ‘Wait till daylight.’

“It would have been impossible to get the catamaran anywhere but on to the shore, where the soldiers stood shooting, and I hoped that by daylight we might be recognised and saved.

“The grand old Merrimac kept sinking. I wanted to go forward and see the damage done there, where nearly all the fire was directed. One man said that if I rose it would draw all the fire on the rest. So I lay motionless. It was splendid the way these men behaved.

“The fire of the soldiers, the batteries and the Vizcaya was awful. When the water came up on the Merrimac’s deck the catamaran floated amid the wreckage, but she was still made fast to the boom, and we caught hold of the edges and clung on, our heads only being above water.

“One man thought we were safer right there; it was quite light, the firing had ceased, except that on the New York’s launch, and I feared Cadet Powell and his men had been killed.

“A Spanish launch came toward the Merrimac. We agreed to capture her and run. Just as she came close the Spaniards saw us, and half a dozen marines jumped up and pointed their rifles at our heads sticking out of the water.

“ ‘Is there any officer in that boat to receive a surrender of prisoners of war?’ I shouted.

“An old man leaned out under the awning and waved his hand. It was Admiral Cervera. The marines lowered their rifles and we were helped into the launch.

“Then we were put in cells in Morro Castle. It was a grand sight a few days later to see the bombardment, the shells striking and bursting around El Morro. Then we were taken into Santiago. I had the court martial room in the barracks. My men were kept prisoners in the hospital.

“From my window I could see the army moving, and it was terrible to watch those poor lads coming across the opening and being shot down by the Spaniards in the rifle-pits in front of me.

“Yesterday the Spaniards became as polite as could be. I knew something was coming, and then I was exchanged.”

CHAPTER IX.

BY WIRE

May 30. The auxiliary cruisers Leyden and Uncas made an attack on one of the outlying blockhouses at Cardenas, plying their 3-pounders until the Spaniards deserted their batteries.

June 1. The government of Paraguay represented to the American consul at Asuncion that the Spanish torpedo-boat Temerario was disabled, and had been granted permission to remain at that port until the war between the United States and Spain had come to an end.

In Spain there are many differences of opinion regarding the conduct of the war, as evinced by a newspaper article to which was signed the name of Emilio Castelar, the distinguished republican statesman.

Señor Castelar attacked the queen regent, reproaching her with being a foreigner and unpopular, and with interfering unjustifiably in political affairs. He compared her position with that of Queen Marie Antoinette on the eve of the French revolution.

The matter came before the Senate; Duke de Roca demanded the prosecution of Castelar, and other Senators expressed in violent terms their indignation at Señor Castelar’s conduct.

June 2. The British steamer Restormel, captured by the auxiliary cruiser St. Paul off Santiago de Cuba, was released by the government. It was shown that the Restormel sailed previous to the declaration of war, there being no evidence that the steamer’s owners were wilfully and knowingly guilty of aiding the enemy’s fleet, and she was ordered released. The cargo was condemned.

The names of the captains and commanders of the ships in Admiral Dewey’s squadron were sent to the Senate, by the President, for advancement because of their conspicuous conduct.

The House of Representatives passed an urgency appropriation of nearly eighteen million dollars for war purposes.

From Captain Clark’s report, the Navy Department made public the following extract relative to the extraordinary voyage of the Oregon:

“It is gratifying to call the department’s attention to the spirit aboard this ship in both officers and men. This best can be described by referring to instances such as that of the engineer officers in voluntarily doubling their watches when high speed was to be made, to the attempt of men to return to the fire-room after being carried out of it insensible, and to the fact that most of the whole crew, who were working by watches by day and night at Sandy Point, preferred to leave their hammocks in the nettings until they could get the ship coaled and ready to sail from Sandy Point.”

June 3. The collier Merrimac was sunk in the channel of Santiago Harbour, as has already been told.

June 4. Captain Charles Vernon Gridley, commander of the cruiser Olympia, and commanding her during the battle of Manila Bay, died at Kobe, Japan.

June 5. An account of personal heroism which should be set down in every history, that future generations may know of what metal the boys of ’98 were made, was telegraphed from Tampa, Florida.

Lieutenant Parker, who was in charge of the old clubhouse on Lafayette Street, near the brigade headquarters, and which was being used by the government as a storehouse, and Thomas McGee, a veteran of the civil war, prevented what might have been a calamity.

While a force of soldiers was engaged in carrying boxes of ammunition from the warehouse and loading them to waiting army wagons, smoke was seen issuing from a box of ammunition. In an instant the cry of fire went up, and soldiers and negro roustabouts piled over each other in their scramble for safety. McGee, however, rushed toward the box, picked it up, and was staggering in the direction of the river, some distance away, when Lieutenant Parker, who had heard the warning cry, came to his assistance. Together they carried the smoking box until it was possible to throw it into the water.

How the fire originated is a mystery. In the storehouse were piled hundreds of boxes of ammunition, each containing one thousand cartridges. Had the cartridges in the burning box exploded, a great loss of life might have resulted, as there were at least a score of soldiers working in and around the building.

At Madrid the Spanish Minister of Marine issued orders that every one connected with the admiralty must abstain from giving information of any kind regarding naval affairs.

General Blanco in Havana published an order prohibiting foreign newspaper correspondents from remaining in Cuba, under the penalty of being treated as spies.

June 6. As is told in that chapter relating to Santiago de Cuba, American troops were landed a few miles east of the city, at a place known as Aguadores; the forts at the entrance of Santiago Harbour were bombarded.

The Navy Department made public a cablegram from Admiral Dewey:

“The insurgents are acting energetically in the province of Cavite. During the past week they have won several victories, and have taken prisoners about eighteen hundred men and fifty officers of the Spanish troops, not natives. The arsenal of Cavite is being prepared for occupation by United States troops on the arrival of the transports.”

Cablegrams from Hongkong announced that the insurgents had cut the railway lines and were closing in on Manila. Frequent actions between Aguinaldo’s forces and the Spaniards had taken place, and the foreign residents were making all haste to leave the city. A proclamation issued by the insurgent chief points to a desire to set up a native administration in the Philippines under an American protectorate. Aguinaldo, with an advisory council, would hold the dictatorship until the conquest of the islands, and would then establish a republican assembly.

June 7. The monitor Monterey and the collier Brutus sailed from San Francisco for Manila. The double-turreted monitor Monadnock has been ordered to set out for the same port within ten days.

June 9. The Spanish bark Maria Dolores, laden with coal and patent fuel, was captured by the cruiser Minneapolis twelve miles off San Juan de Porto Rico.

June 10. A battalion of marines was landed in the harbour of Guantanamo, forty miles east of Santiago.

A blockhouse at Daiquiri shelled by the transport steamer Panther.

June 11–12. Attack upon American marines in Guantanamo Bay by Spanish regulars and guerillas.

June 11. The British steamer Twickenham, laden with coal for Admiral Cervera’s fleet, was captured off San Juan de Porto Rico by the U. S. S. St. Louis.

June 12. Major-General Merritt issued orders to the officers assigned to the second Philippine expedition, to the effect that they must be ready to embark their troops not later than the fifteenth instant.