Chapter VIII: Great Sailors (2)

From that time until the outbreak of the Civil War, his life was spent in the most active service, and he rose to the rank of captain. As has been seen, he cast in his lot with the North, and asked for active duty at once, but it was not until eight months later that the summons came. When it did come, it was of a nature to fill him with the most unbounded enthusiasm. The national government had determined to attempt to send a fleet past the formidable forts at the mouth of the Mississippi, for the purpose of capturing New Orleans. Farragut was sent for, shown the list of vessels which were preparing for the expedition, and asked if he thought it could succeed. He answered that he would undertake to do it with two-thirds the number, and when he was told that he was to command the expedition, his delight knew no bounds. He felt that his chance had come. On the second of February, 1862, he sailed out of Hampton Roads with a squadron of seventeen vessels, and turned his prow to the south.

The task which had been set him was one to give the stoutest heart pause. Twenty miles above the mouth of the Mississippi were two formidable forts and a number of water batteries, with combined armaments greatly superior to those of Farragut's fleet. A great barrier of logs stretched across the river, while farther up lay a Confederate fleet of fifteen vessels, one of which was an ironclad ram. A strong force of Confederate sharpshooters was stationed along either bank, and a number of fire-rafts were ready to be lighted and sent down against the Union fleet. It was against these obstacles that Farragut, after a week of preliminary attack, started up the river in his wooden vessels at three o'clock in the morning of April 24, 1862.

As soon as the Confederates descried the advancing fleet, they lighted great fires along the banks and opened a terrific cannonade. Blazing fire-rafts threw a lurid glare against the sky. The fleet, pausing a few minutes to discharge their broadsides into the forts, steamed on up the river; Farragut's flagship grounded under the guns of Fort St. Philip, and a fireship, blazing a hundred feet in the air, floated against her and set her on fire, but the flames were extinguished, the flagship backed off, and headed again up the stream. Before the coming of dawn, the entire fleet, with the exception of three small boats, had passed the forts and were grappling with the Confederate squadron above. Of this, short work was made. Some of the enemy's vessels were driven ashore, some were run down, others were riddled with shot--and the proudest city of the South lay at Farragut's mercy.

On the first day of May, the United States troops under General Butler, marched into the city, and Farragut, glad to be relieved of an unpleasant task, proceeded up the river, ran by the batteries at Vicksburg, assisted at the reduction of Port Hudson, and finally sailed for New York in his flagship, the Hartford, arriving there in August, 1863. He had already been commissioned rear-admiral, and he was given a most enthusiastic reception, for his passage of the Mississippi was recognized as an extraordinary feat. An examination of his ship showed that she had been struck 240 times by shot and shell in her nineteen months of service.

Immediately after the surrender of New Orleans, Farragut had desired to proceed against the port of Mobile, Alabama, which was so strongly fortified that all attempts to close it had been in vain, and which was the only important port left open to the Confederates. But the government decided that Mobile could wait a while, and sent him, instead, to open the Mississippi. That task accomplished, the time had come for him to attempt the greatest of his career--greater, even, than his capture of New Orleans, and much more hazardous. In the spring of 1864, he was in the Gulf, preparing for the great enterprise.

Mobile harbor was defended by works so strong and well-placed that it was considered well-nigh impregnable. The Confederates had realized the importance of keeping this, their last port, open, so that they could communicate with the outer world, and had spared no pains to render it so strong that they believed no attack could subdue it. Two great forts, armed with heavy and effective artillery, guarded the entrance; the winding channel was filled with torpedoes, and in the inner harbor was a fleet of gunboats, and, most powerful of all, the big, ironclad ram, Tennessee. In charge of the Tennessee was the same man who had guided the Merrimac on her fatal visit to Hampton Roads, Franklin Buchanan, but the Tennessee was a much more powerful vessel than the Merrimac had ever been, and it was thought that nothing afloat could stand against her.

It was this position, then, which, at daybreak of August 5, 1864, Farragut sailed in to assault. His fleet consisted of four ironclad monitors, and fourteen wooden vessels, and his preparations were made most carefully, for he fully realized the gravity of the task before him. He himself was in his old flagship, the Hartford, and mounting into the rigging to be above the smoke, he was lashed fast there, so that he would not fall to the deck, in case a bullet struck him. The thought of that brave old leader taking that exposed position so that he might handle his fleet more ably will always be a thrilling one--and the event proved how wise he was in choosing it.

The word was given, and, at half past six in the morning, the monitors took their stations, while the wooden ships formed in column, the plan being for the monitors, with their iron sides, to steam in between the wooden ships and the forts, and so protect them as much as possible. The light vessels were lashed each to the left of one of the heavier ones, so that each pair of ships was given a double chance to escape, should one be rendered helpless by a shot in the boiler, or in some other vital portion of her machinery. The Brooklyn was at the head of the column, while the Hartford came second, and the others followed. In this order, the fleet advanced to the attack.

There was an unwonted stillness on the ships as they swung in towards the harbor mouth, for every man felt within him a vague unrest caused by one awful and mysterious peril, the torpedoes. For the forts, the gunboats, even the great ironclad, the men cared nothing--they had met such perils before--but lurking beneath the water was a horror not to be guarded against. They knew that these deadly mines were scattered along the channel through which they must make their way, and that any moment might be the end of some proud vessel.

The ships were all in fighting trim, with spars housed and canvas furled, and decks spread with sawdust so that they would not grow slippery with the blood which was soon to flow. As the fleet came within range of the forts, a terrific cannonade began, in which the Confederate ships, stationed just inside the harbor, soon joined. One of them was the great ram, Tennessee, and the commander of the leading monitor, the Tecumseh, noted her and determined to give her battle. So he swung his ship toward her and ordered full steam ahead; but an instant later, there came a sudden dull roar, an uplifting of the water, the boat quivered from stem to stern, and then plunged, bow first, beneath the waves.

Farragut, from his lofty station, saw the Tecumseh disappear, and then saw the Brooklyn, the ship ahead of him in the battle line, stop and begin to back. It was an awful moment--the crisis of the fight and of Farragut's career as well. The ships were halted in a narrow channel, right beneath the forts; a few moments' delay meant that they would be blown out of the water.

"What's the matter there?" he roared.

"Torpedoes!" came the cry from the Brooklyn's deck, for her captain had perceived a line of little buoys stretching right across her path.

"Damn the torpedoes!" shouted the admiral. "Go ahead, Captain Drayton," he continued, addressing his own captain. "Four bells!" and the Hartford, swinging aside, cleared the Brooklyn and took the lead.

On went the flagship across the line of torpedoes, which could be heard knocking against her bottom as she passed, but not one of them exploded, and a moment later, one of the most daring feats in naval history had been accomplished. Farragut had seen, instantly, that the risk must be taken, and so he took it.

The remainder of the fleet followed the flagship, the forts were passed, and the battle virtually won. The Confederate fleet, and especially the great ram, was still to be reckoned with, but before proceeding to that portion of the task, Farragut steamed up the harbor and served breakfast to his men. Just as this was finished, the Tennessee attacked, and put up a desperate fight, but finally became unmanageable and was forced to surrender.

So ended the battle of Mobile Bay. It left Farragut's fame secure as one of the greatest sea-captains of all time; great in daring, in skill, in foresight, and with a coolness and presence of mind which no peril could shake. Congress created for him the grade of admiral, before unknown in the United States navy, and the whole country joined in honoring him.

Swinging to and fro with the ebb and flow of the tide at the entrance of Mobile Bay, is a buoy which marks the spot of a deed of purest heroism. A few fathoms below that buoy lies the monitor Tecumseh, sunk by a torpedo at the beginning of the battle, as we have seen, and the buoy commemorates, not the sinking of the ship, but the self-sacrifice of her commander, Tunis Augustus Craven.

Craven had entered the navy at the age of sixteen and had seen much service and distinguished himself in many ways before he was given command of the Tecumseh and ordered to join Farragut's squadron. On the morning of the attack, he was given the post of honor at the head of the column, and determined to come to close quarters with the Tennessee, if he could. But fate intervened, when his quarry was almost within reach. Craven had stationed himself in the little pilot-house beside the pilot, the better to direct the movements of his ship, and when he and the pilot felt that sudden shock and saw the Tecumseh sinking, both of them sprang for the narrow opening leading from the pilot-house to the turret chamber below. They reached the opening at the same instant; it was so small that only one could pass at a time, and Craven, with a greatness of soul found only in heroes, drew back, saying quietly, "After you, pilot."

"There was nothing after me," said the pilot afterwards, "for when I reached the last round of the ladder, the vessel seemed to drop from under me."

* * * * *

At the outbreak of the Civil War, the commerce of the United States was the next to the largest in the world. The North destroyed southern commerce by capturing or blockading southern ports, while the South retaliated by fitting out a large number of commerce-destroyers, to range the seas and take what prizes they could--a plan which had been adopted by America in both wars with England, and which is the only resource of a power whose navy is greatly inferior to that of its antagonist.

The bright particular star of the Confederate service was Raphael Semmes, who had been trained in the United States navy, and who, first in the Sumter and afterwards in the Alabama, captured a total of seventy-seven prizes, nearly all of which he destroyed. To his capture, the United States devoted some of its best ships, but it was not until the summer of 1864, that he was finally cornered.

On Sunday, June 12, 1864, the United States sloop-of-war Kearsarge lay at anchor off the sleepy town of Flushing, Holland. Her commander, John Ancrum Winslow, had served in the navy of the United States for thirty-seven years, and had done good work off Vera Cruz in the war with Mexico, but the crowning achievement of his life was at hand. As his ship lay swinging idly at her anchor, a boat put off to her, a messenger jumped aboard, and three minutes later a gun was fired, recalling instantly every member of the ship's company ashore. The message was from our minister to France and stated that the long-sought Alabama had arrived at Cherbourg. For nearly two years, Winslow had been searching for that scourge of American shipping, but Semmes had always eluded him, so it may well be believed that Winslow lost no time in getting under way. On Tuesday morning, he reached Cherbourg, and breathed a great sigh of relief as he saw, beyond the breakwater, the flag of the Alabama. He took his station off the port, and kept a close lookout for fear his enemy would again elude him. But the precaution was unnecessary, for Semmes had decided to offer battle.

Four days passed, however, with the Kearsarge keeping grim guard. Then, on Sunday morning, June 19, as the crew of the Kearsarge was at divine service, the officer of the deck reported a steamer at the harbor-mouth. A moment later, the lookout shouted, "She's coming, and heading straight for us!" Captain Winslow, putting aside his prayer-book, seized the trumpet, ordered the decks cleared for action, and put his ship about and bore down on the Alabama.

The two vessels were remarkably well-matched, but the engagement was decisive evidence of the superior qualities of northern marksmanship. It was, in fact, an exhibition of that magnificent gunnery which was so evident in the war of 1812, and which was to be shown again in the war with Spain. Nearly all of the 173 shots fired by the Kearsarge took effect, while of the 370 fired by the Alabama, only 28 reached their target. As a result, at the end of an hour and a half, the Alabama was sinking, while the Kearsarge was practically uninjured and had lost only three men. Hauling down her flag, the Alabama tried to run in shore, but suddenly, settling by the stern, lifted her bow high in the air and plunged to the bottom of the sea. So ended the career of the Alabama. Winslow received the usual rewards of promotion and the thanks of Congress, and passed the remainder of his life unadventurously in the navy service.

One other battle remains to be recorded--in some respects the most important in history, because it revolutionized the construction of battleships, and suddenly rendered all the existing navies of the world practically useless.

On the eighth day of March, 1862, a powerful squadron of Union vessels lay at anchor in Hampton Roads, consisting of the Congress, the Cumberland, the St. Lawrence, the Roanoke, and the Minnesota. It was a beautiful spring morning, and the tall ships rocked lazily at their anchors, while their crews occupied themselves with routine duties. Shortly before noon, a strange object was seen approaching down the Elizabeth river. To the Union officers, it looked like the roof of a large barn belching forth smoke. In reality, it was the Confederate ironclad, Merrimac, under command of Captain Franklin Buchanan.

Buchanan had, in his day, been one of the most distinguished officers in the United States navy. He had entered the service in 1815, as midshipman, and won rapid promotion. In 1845, he was selected by the secretary of the navy to organize the naval academy at Annapolis, and was its first commandant. He commanded the Germantown at the capture of Vera Cruz, and the Susquehanna, the flagship of Commodore Perry's famous expedition to Japan. At the outbreak of the Civil War, he was commandant of the Washington navy-yard, and, being himself a Baltimore man, resigned from the service after the attack made in Baltimore on the Massachusetts troops passing through there. Finding that his state did not secede, he withdrew his resignation and asked to be restored, but for some reason, the secretary of the navy, Gideon Welles, refused this request, and Buchanan was fairly driven into the enemy's service.

The Confederacy was glad to get him, gave him the rank of captain and put him in charge of the work at the Norfolk, Virginia, navy-yard. The most important business going forward there was the reconstruction of the United States frigate, Merrimac. This consisted in building above her berth-deck sloping bulwarks seven feet high, covered with four inches of iron, and pierced for ten guns. To her bow, about two feet under water, a cast-iron ram was attached, and on the eighth of March, she cast loose from her moorings and started down the river. She was scarcely complete, her crew had never been drilled, she had never fired a gun, nor had her engines made a single revolution, while the ship itself was merely a bold experiment, which had never made a trial trip. Yet Buchanan, on reaching Hampton Roads, headed straight for the Union fleet.

There, as soon as the identity of the stranger was discovered, hurried preparations for battle were made. Decks were cleared, magazines opened, and guns loaded, and as soon as the Merrimac was in range, the Union ships and shore batteries opened upon her, but such projectiles as struck her, glanced harmlessly from her iron mail. Not until she was quite near the Cumberland did the Merrimac return the fire. Then she opened her bow-port and sent a seven-inch shell through the Cumberland's quarter. The Cumberland answered with a broadside which would have blown any wooden vessel out of the water, but which affected the Merrimac not at all. Buchanan had determined to test the power of his ram, and keeping on at full speed, crashed into the Cumberland's side. Then he backed out, leaving a yawning chasm, through which the water poured into the doomed ship. She settled rapidly and sank with a roar, her crew firing her guns to the last moment.

The Merrimac then turned her attention to the Congress, with such deadly effect that that vessel was forced to surrender after an hour's fighting, in which she was repeatedly hulled and set on fire. Most of her crew escaped to the shore, and the Confederates completed her destruction by firing hot shot into her. Evening was at hand by this time, and the Merrimac withdrew, intending to destroy the other ships in the harbor next morning.

So ended the most disastrous day in the history of the United States navy. Two ships were lost, and over three hundred men killed or wounded. On the Merrimac, two had been killed and eight wounded, but the vessel herself, though she had been the target for more than a hundred heavy guns, was practically uninjured and as dangerous as ever.

Among the wounded was Captain Buchanan, who was forced to relinquish the command of the Merrimac. For his gallantry, he was thanked by the Confederate Congress, and promoted to full admiral and senior officer of the Confederate navy. As soon as he recovered from his wound, he was placed in charge of the naval defenses of Mobile, Alabama, and there superintended the construction of the ram Tennessee, which he commanded during the action with Farragut two years later. His handling of the vessel was daring almost to madness, but she became disabled and was forced to surrender. Buchanan was taken prisoner, and never again took part in any naval action.

Let us return to Hampton Roads.

The news of the disaster to the Union fleet spread gloom and consternation throughout the North, and corresponding rejoicing throughout the South. The remaining ships in Hampton Roads plainly lay at the Merrimac's mercy, and after they had been destroyed, there was nothing to prevent her steaming up the Potomac and attacking Washington. It seemed as if nothing but a miracle could save the country from awful disaster.

And that miracle was at hand.

Among the coincidences of history, none is more remarkable than the arrival at Hampton Roads on the night of March 8, 1862, of the strange and freakish-looking craft known as the Monitor. Proposed to the Navy Department in the preceding fall by John Ericsson, in spite of sneers and doubts, a contract was given him in October to construct a vessel after his design. The form of the Monitor is too well known to need description--"a cheese-box on a raft," the name given her in derision, describes her as well as anything. She was launched on the last day of January, and three weeks later was handed over to the Government, but it was not until the fourth of March that her guns were mounted, two powerful rifled cannon. At the request of Ericsson, she was named the Monitor, and this name came afterwards to be adopted to describe the class of ships of which she was the first. So dangerous was service in her considered, that volunteers were called for, and Lieutenant John Lorimer Worden was given command of her.

Worden had entered the navy twenty-seven years before, and at the opening of the Civil War, had delivered the orders from the secretary of the navy which saved Fort Pickens, in the harbor of Pensacola, to the Union. Attempting to return North overland, he was arrested and held as a prisoner seven months, being exchanged just in time to enable him to procure command of the Monitor. Rumors of the construction of the Merrimac had reached the North, and two days after her guns were aboard, the Monitor left New York harbor for Hampton Roads. Just after she passed Sandy Hook, orders recalling her were received there, fortunately too late to be delivered. By such slight threads do the events of history depend.

Meanwhile, Captain Worden was making such progress southward as he could with his unwieldy and dangerous craft, which had been designed only for the smooth waters of rivers and harbors and which was wholly unable to cope with the boisterous Atlantic. There was a brisk wind, and the vessel was soon in imminent danger of foundering. The waves broke over her smoke-stack and poured down into her fires, so that steam could not be kept up; the blowers which ventilated the ship would not work, and she became filled with gas which rendered some of her crew unconscious. Undoubtedly she would have gone to the bottom very shortly had not the wind moderated. Even then, it was almost a miracle that she should win through, but win through she did, and at four o'clock on the afternoon of Saturday, March 8, as she was passing Cape Henry, Captain Worden heard the distant booming of guns. As darkness came, he saw far ahead the glare of the burning Congress.

About midnight, the little vessel crept up beside the Minnesota and anchored. Her crew were completely exhausted. For fifty hours, they had fought to keep their ship afloat, and on the morrow they must be prepared to meet a formidable foe. All that night they worked with their vessel, making such repairs as they could. At eight o'clock next morning, the Merrimac appeared, and the Monitor started to meet her.

Amazed at sight of what appeared to be an iron turret sliding over the water toward him, the commander of the Merrimac swung toward this tiny antagonist, intending to destroy her before proceeding to the work in hand. Captain Worden had taken his station in the pilot-house, and reserved his fire until within short range. Then, slowly circling about his unwieldy foe, he fired shot after shot, which, while they did not disable her, prevented her from destroying the Union ships in the harbor. Finding the Monitor apparently invulnerable, and with her machinery giving trouble, the Merrimac at last withdrew to Norfolk.

That the battle was a victory for the Monitor cannot be questioned; she had prevented the destruction of the Union ships, and this she continued to do, until, in the following May, the Confederates, finding themselves compelled to abandon Norfolk, set the Merrimac on fire and blew her up. Six months later, the Monitor met a tragic fate, foundering in a storm off Cape Hatteras, a portion of her crew going down with her.

Honors were showered upon Worden for his gallant work. He was given command of the monitor Montauk, and later on destroyed the Confederate privateer Nashville. After the war, he was promoted to rear-admiral, and remained in the service until 1886.

There were others in the war whose deeds brought glory to themselves and to the navy--Lieutenant William B. Cushing, who destroyed the Confederate ram Albemarle in Plymouth harbor, a deed comparable with the burning of the Philadelphia early in the century; David Dixon Porter, whose work on the Mississippi was second only to Farragut's, who four times received the thanks of Congress, and who, in the end, became admiral of the navy; Charles Stuart Boggs, who, in the sloop-of-war Varuna, sank five Confederate vessels in the river below New Orleans, before he was himself sunk--but none of them, and, indeed, none of those whose exploits we have given, measured up to the stature of Farragut, one of the greatest commanders of all time, and, all things considered, the very greatest in the history of America.

* * * * *

Thirty years and more passed after that epoch-making contest between the Monitor and the Merrimac before the world witnessed another battle to the death between ironclads. Theoretically, wood had long since been displaced by iron, iron by steel, and steel by specially-forged armor-plate, battleship designers struggling always to build a vessel which could withstand modern projectiles. But as to the actual results in warfare, there was nothing but theory to go upon until that first day of May, 1898, when George Dewey steamed into the harbor of Manila, at the head of his squadron, and opened fire upon the Spanish fleet.

Dewey had received his training under the best of masters, Farragut. Graduating from Annapolis in 1858, he served as lieutenant on the Mississippi, when that vessel, as part of Farragut's fleet, ran past the forts below New Orleans. A short time later, in trying to pass the Confederate batteries at Port Hudson, the Mississippi ran hard and fast aground. Half an hour was spent, under a terrific fire, in trying to get her off; then Dewey, after spiking her guns, assisted in scuttling her and escaped with her captain in a small boat. He saw other active service, and got his first command in 1870. He was commissioned commodore in 1896, and on January 1, 1898, took command of the Asiatic squadron.

Few people in the world beside himself suspected, even in the dimmest manner, the task which lay before him; but with a rare sagacity, he had foreseen that, in the event of war with Spain, the far East would be the scene of operations of the first importance. He thereupon applied for the command of the Asiatic squadron, and his application was granted. Dewey proceeded immediately to Hong Kong, and began to concentrate his forces there and to get them into first-class condition. He spent much of his time studying the charts of the Pacific, and his officers noticed that the maps of the Philippine Islands soon became worn and marked. On Tuesday, April 26, came the explanation of all this in a cablegram stating that war had been declared between the United States and Spain, and ordering Dewey to proceed at once to the Philippine Islands and capture or destroy the Spanish fleet which was stationed there.

Early the next afternoon, the squadron started on its six hundred mile journey. What lay at the end of it, no one on the fleet knew. Of the Spanish force, Dewey knew only that twenty-three Spanish war vessels were somewhere in the Philippines; he knew, too, that they were probably at Manila, and that the defenses of the harbor were of the strongest description. But he remembered one of Farragut's sayings, "The closer you get to your enemy, the harder you can strike," and he lost no time in getting under way.

Dewey's squadron consisted of seven vessels, of which one was a revenue cutter, and two colliers. He was many thousands of miles from the nearest base of supplies and to fail would mean that he would have to surrender. So, on that momentous voyage, he drilled and drilled his men, until their discipline was perfect. On April 30, land was sighted, and precautions were redoubled, since the enemy might be encountered at any moment. Careful search failed to reveal the Spaniards in Subig Bay, and at six o'clock in the evening, Dewey announced to his officers that he had determined to force Manila Bay that night. At nine o'clock the fleet was off the bay, all lights were extinguished save one at the stern of each ship to serve as a guide for the one following, and even that light was carefully screened on both sides so that it could not be seen from the shore. Then the fleet headed for the harbor mouth.

What the defenses of the channel were, no one knew. It was reported to be full of torpedoes. But perhaps Dewey remembered Farragut at Mobile Bay. At any rate, he did not hesitate, but kept straight on, and the fleet had almost passed the harbor mouth, before its presence was discovered. Then the shore batteries opened, but without effect, and the entire squadron passed safely into the harbor. Then followed long hours of waiting for the dawn, and at five o'clock came the signal, "Prepare for action," for the Spanish fleet had been sighted at anchor far down the harbor.

Fifteen minutes later, the Spaniards opened fire, but Dewey went silently on toward his goal. Suddenly, a short distance away, there was a dull explosion, and a great mass of water and mud sprang into the air. A mine had been exploded; the fleet had entered the mine fields. Now, if ever, it would be blown into eternity, but there was no pause in the progress of that silent line of battle. From the bridge of the Olympia, the most exposed position in the squadron, Dewey watched the progress of his ships. In the conning tower, eagerly awaiting the word to fire, was Captain Gridley. At last, with a final glance at the shore, Dewey bent over the rail.

"You may fire when ready, Gridley," he said, quietly.

Ready! Surely that was satire on Dewey's part, for just one second later the bridge under his feet leaped like a springboard as the great gun beneath it gave the signal. Scarcely had the shell left the muzzle when an answering roar came from the other ships. The battle had begun, the Spanish ships were riddled with a shower of bursting shells, their crews cut to pieces, and the ships themselves set on fire. The guns of the American squadron roared with clocklike regularity, while the firing from the Spanish ships steadily decreased. Two hours of this work, and the smoke hung so heavy over the water that it was difficult to distinguish the enemy's ships.

"What time is it, Rees?" asked Dewey, of his executive officer.

"Seven forty-five, sir."

"Breakfast time," said Dewey, with a queer smile. "Run up the signals, 'Cease firing,' and 'Follow me.'"

Again it was a lesson from Farragut, and Dewey, steaming back down the harbor, signalled "Let the men go to breakfast." His captains, coming aboard the Olympia, gave a series of reports unique in naval history. Not a man had been killed, not a gun disabled, not a ship seriously injured. Three hours were devoted to cooling off and cleaning the guns, getting up more ammunition, and breakfast was leisurely eaten.

Meanwhile, across the bay, on the riddled and sinking Spanish ships the wildest confusion reigned. At eleven o'clock, the American fleet was seen again approaching, and a few minutes later, that terrible storm of fire recommenced. There was practically no reply. Three of the Spanish ships were on fire, and their magazines exploded one after another with a mighty roar; a broadside from the Baltimore sank a fourth; a shell from the Raleigh exploded the magazine of a fifth, and so, one by one, the Spanish ships were blown to pieces, until not one remained. An hour later, the shore batteries had been silenced, and Dewey hoisted the signal, "Cease firing."

So ended the greatest naval battle since Trafalgar--a battle which riveted the attention of the world, and brought home to Europe a realization of the fact that here was a new world-power to be reckoned with. With six ships, carrying 1,668 men and fifty-three guns, Dewey had destroyed the Spanish squadron of nine ships, carrying 1,875 men and forty-two guns; not an American had been killed, and only six wounded, while the Spanish loss was 618 killed and wounded; and not an American vessel had been injured. And, in addition to destroying the Spanish fleet, a series of powerful shore batteries had been silenced, and the way prepared for the American occupation of the Philippines. Dewey's place as one of the great commanders of history was secure.

News of the victory created the wildest excitement and enthusiasm in the United States. Dewey became a popular hero, and when he returned from the Philippines, was welcomed with triumphal honors, which recalled the great days of the Roman empire. He was commissioned admiral of the navy, a rank which had been created for Farragut, and which has been held by only two men besides him.

Another great American naval victory marked the brief war with Spain--the destruction of Admiral Cervera's powerful fleet as it tried to escape from the harbor of Santiago, Cuba, on the third day of July, 1898--a victory which made the Independence Day which followed one long to be remembered in the United States. There, as at Manila, the entire Spanish fleet was destroyed, without a single American vessel being seriously injured, and with a loss of only one killed and one wounded on the American side. But the victory at Santiago was the victory of no one man. The ranking officer, William Thomas Sampson, was miles away when the engagement began. The next in rank, Winfield Scott Schley, so conducted himself that he was brought before a court of inquiry. The battle was really fought and won by the commanders of the various ships--Robley D. Evans, John W. Philip, Charles E. Clark, Henry C. Taylor, Richard Wainwright--by the very simple procedure of getting as close to the enemy as they could, and hammering him as hard as their guns would let them. One and all, they behaved with the utmost gallantry. But most remarkable of all in the history of the navy from first to last has been the superb work of the "men behind the guns," whose marksmanship has been the despair and envy of the world.

SUMMARY

JONES, JOHN PAUL. Born at Kirkbean, Kirkcudbrightshire, Scotland, July 6, 1747; settled in Virginia, 1773; appointed first lieutenant in American navy, 1775; commanded Ranger and cruised in the Irish sea, 1777-78; sailed from France in Bon Homme Richard, August 14, 1779; fought Serapis, September 23, 1779; resigned from American service, entered the French and later the Russian navy, served under Potemkin in the Black Sea with rank of rear-admiral; returned to Paris, 1790; died there, July 18, 1792.

BIDDLE, NICHOLAS. Born at Philadelphia, September 10, 1750; captain in American navy, 1775; appointed to command the Randolph, June 6, 1776; killed when ship blew up in fight with Yarmouth, March 7, 1778.

PORTER, DAVID. Born at Boston, February 1, 1780; entered navy, 1798; served in Tripolitan war, 1801-03; commander of the Essex in war of 1812; defeated and taken prisoner in Valparaiso harbor, March 28, 1814; resigned, 1826; commander of Mexican naval forces, 1826-29; United States minister to Turkey, 1831-43; died at Pera, Constantinople, March 3, 1843.

HULL, ISAAC. Born at Derby, Connecticut, March 9, 1773; entered navy, 1798; served in war with Tripoli, 1801-03; sailed from Boston in command of the Constitution, August 2, 1812; defeated Guerrière, August 19, 1812; remained in navy till end of life; died at Philadelphia, February 13, 1843.

DECATUR, STEPHEN. Born at Sinnepuxent, Maryland, January 5, 1779; entered navy, 1798; burned frigate Philadelphia in harbor of Tripoli, February 16, 1804; commanded frigate United States in war of 1812; captured British frigate, Macedonian, October 25, 1812; captured by British fleet, January 15, 1815; killed in a duel with James Barron, near Bladensburg, Maryland, March 22, 1820.

BAINBRIDGE, WILLIAM. Born at Princeton, New Jersey, May 7, 1774; lieutenant-commandant in quasi-naval-war with France, 1798; commanded Philadelphia in Tripolitan war; captured by Tripolitans, November 1, 1804; commander of Constitution in war of 1812; captured British frigate Java, December 29, 1812; served in navy till death at Philadelphia, July 28, 1833.

LAWRENCE, JAMES. Born at Burlington, New Jersey, October 1, 1781; entered navy, 1798; served in Tripolitan war, 1801-03; sailed from Boston in the Chesapeake, and defeated by British frigate Shannon, June 1, 1813; died at sea from wound received in battle, June 6, 1813.

PREBLE, EDWARD. Born at Falmouth (now Portland), Maine, August 15, 1761; served as midshipman during Revolution; commissioned lieutenant, February 9, 1798; captain, May 15, 1799; commanded squadron operating against Barbary States, 18O3-O4; died at Portland, Maine, August 25, 1807.

STEWART, CHARLES. Born at Philadelphia, July 28, 1778; lieutenant in United States navy, March 9, 1798; served in war with Tripoli; captain, April 22, 1806; commanded Constitution, 1813-14, capturing many prizes; remained in navy till death, rising to rank of rear-admiral; died at Bordentown, New Jersey, November 6, 1869.

BLAKELEY, JOHNSTON. Born near Seaford, County Down, Ireland, October, 1781; brought to America, 1783; entered navy as midshipman, February 5, 1800; lieutenant, February 10, 1807; master commander, July 24, 1813; sailed from Portsmouth, New Hampshire, in the Wasp, May 1, 1814; captured Reindeer, sunk Avon, captured Atalanta; the Wasp was spoken by a Swedish ship, October 9, 1814, and never seen again.

MACDONOUGH, THOMAS. Born in Newcastle County, Delaware, December 23, 1783; entered the navy as midshipman, 1800; served in war against Tripoli; lieutenant, 1807; master commander, 1813; defeated British squadron under Downie on Lake Champlain, September 11, 1814; died at sea, November 16, 1825.

PERRY, OLIVER HAZARD. Born in South Kingston, Rhode Island, August 23, 1785; entered navy as midshipman, April 7, 1799; served in war with Tripoli; lieutenant, 1807; ordered to Lake Erie, February 17, 1813; reached Erie, March 27, 1813; defeated British fleet, September 10, 1813; assisted in defense of Baltimore, 1814; commanded Java and John Adams; died at Port Spain, Island of Trinidad, August 23, 1819.

PERRY, MATTHEW CALBRAITH. Born at Newport, Rhode Island, April 10, 1794; entered navy as midshipman, 1809; lieutenant, February 27, 1813; saw distinguished service in many ships and many waters; master-commandant, January 7, 1833; captain, March 15, 1837; commodore, June 12, 1841; commanded fleet at capture of Vera Cruz, 1844; organized and commanded expedition to Japan, delivering President's letter to the Mikado, July 14, 1853, and signing treaty, March 31, 1854; died in New York City, March 4, 1858.

FARRAGUT, DAVID GLASGOW. Born at Campbell's Station, Tennessee, July 5, 1801; adopted by David Porter and given commission as midshipman, 1810; served under Porter in the Essex, 1813-14; lieutenant, 1821; commander, 1841; captain, 1855; appointed commander of squadron to reduce New Orleans, January, 1862; passed the forts below New Orleans on the night of April 23-24, 1862; compelled surrender of city, April 25, 1862; passed batteries at Vicksburg, June 28, 1862; rear-admiral, July 16, 1862; fought battle of Mobile Bay, August 5, 1864; vice-admiral, 1864; admiral, 1866; died at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, August 14, 1870.

CRAVEN, TUNIS AUGUSTUS MACDONOUGH. Born at Portsmouth, Hew Hampshire, January 11, 1813; entered navy as midshipman, 1829; served in various ships and in coast survey; commander, April, 1861; given command of monitor Tecumseh, with post of honor in battle of Mobile Bay, August 5, 1864; struck torpedo and sank almost instantly, carrying down Craven and almost everyone else on board.

SEMMES, RAPHAEL. Born in Charles County, Maryland, September 27, 1809; midshipman in navy, 1826; lieutenant, 1837; at siege of Vera Cruz, 1847; commander in Confederate navy, April 4, 1861; took command of Alabama, August, 1863; Alabama destroyed by Kearsarge, June 19, 1864; guarded water approaches to Richmond, 1865; after war, engaged in practice of law until his death at Mobile, Alabama, August 30, 1877.

WINSLOW, JOHN ANCRUM. Born at Wilmington, North Carolina, November 19, 1811; entered navy as midshipman, 1827; lieutenant, 1839; commander, 1855; captain, 1862; commanded Kearsarge on special service in pursuit of Alabama, 1863-64; sank Alabama, June 19, 1864; rear-admiral, 1870; died at Boston, Massachusetts, September 29, 1873.

BUCHANAN, FRANKLIN. Born at Baltimore, Maryland, September 17, 1800; entered navy as midshipman, 1815; lieutenant, 1825; master-commandant, 1841; organized naval academy at Annapolis, 1845; at siege of Vera Cruz, 1847; commanded flagship in Perry's Japan expedition, 1852; captain, 1855; commandant Washington navy yard, 1859; entered Confederate service, September, 1861; commanded Merrimac in Hampton Roads and Tennessee in Mobile Bay; died in Talbot County, Maryland, May 11, 1874.

WORDEN, JOHN LORIMER. Born in Westchester County, New York, March 12, 1818; entered navy, 1840; lieutenant, 1846; taken prisoner while returning North from Fort Pickens, 1861; released after seven months' captivity, and appointed to the Monitor; met Merrimac in Hampton Roads, March 9, 1862; received thanks of Congress and commissioned commander, July, 1862; captain, February, 1863; commodore, 1868; superintendent of naval academy, 1870-74; rear-admiral, 1872; retired, 1886; died at Washington, October 18, 1897.

DEWEY, GEORGE. Born at Montpelier, Vermont, December 26, 1837; entered naval academy, 1854; graduated, 1858; with Farragut on Mississippi, 1862; commander, 1872; captain, 1884; commodore, 1896; fought battle of Manila Bay, May 1, 1898; thanked by Congress and promoted rear-admiral, 1898; admiral, 1899.

* * * * *

INDEX

Adams, John, 84, 89-92, 124, 174, 175, 177, 208, 263.

Adams, John Quincy, 98-100, 109, 110, 125, 186.

Adams, Samuel, 84, 175-178, 179, 208-209, 263.

Allen, Eliza, 240-241.

Allen, Ethan, 270.

Anderson, Robert, 191.

Arnold, Benedict, 267-271, 276, 277, 311-312, 313.

Arthur, Chester Alan, 153, 166-167.

Astor, John Jacob, 250.

Atkinson, Henry, 303.

Austin, Moses, 243.

Bainbridge, William, 334, 337-340, 342, 343, 378.

Banks, Nathaniel P., 301.

Barnes, James, 22.

Barron, James, 337.

Beauregard, Pierre, 304-305, 306, 317-318.

Bee, Bernard E., 299, 300.

Benton, Jesse, 104.

Benton, Thomas Hart, 191, 211.

Berkeley, Lord, 62.

Biddle, Nicholas, 322, 328, 377.

Blaine, James G., 151, 152, 153, 155, 186, 205-207, 213.

Blakeley, Johnston, 342, 344-345, 379.

Boggs, Charles Stuart, 370.

Boone, Daniel, 215-221, 222, 223, 225, 226, 234, 258.

Boone, Squire, 219.

Booth, John Wilkes, 141-142, 164.

Bowie, James, 18, 246-250, 260.

Braddock, Edward, 82, 123, 267, 273, 275, 311.

Bradford, William, 21, 54-57, 74.

Bragg, Braxton, 308.

Breckenridge, John C., 138.

Broke, Philip, 341.

Brooks, Preston, 212.

Brown, John, 122, 295, 316.

Bryan, William Jennings, 160-161.

Buchanan, Franklin, 356, 363-366, 381.

Buchanan, James, 113, 121-123, 127-128, 191, 257.

Buell, Don Carlos, 293.

Burgoyne, John, 267-269, 270, 275, 311, 313, 325.

Burnside, Ambrose E., 285, 297, 314-315.

Burr, Aaron, 179-183, 205, 209-210, 245.

Butler, Benjamin, 355.

Butler, Simon; see Kenton, Simon.

Byllinge, Edward, 62.

Cabot, John, 36-37, 40, 70.

Cabot, Sebastian, 36-37, 70.

Calhoun, John Caldwell, 21, 111, 115, 184-190, 201, 211.

Carson, Kit, 265.

Carteret, Sir George, 62.

Cartier, Jacques, 39, 49, 72.

Carver, Jonathan, 55.

Cass, Lewis, 118, 191, 211.

Catlin, George, 251.

Champlain, Samuel, 49-51, 73.

Chase, Salmon Portland, 200, 212.

Clark, Charles E., 376.

Clark, George Rogers, 223, 225-232, 234, 235, 258.

Clark, William, 235-237, 250, 259.

Clay, Henry, 22, 99, 109, 114, 115, 116, 117, 184-190, 205, 206,
210.

Cleveland, Grover, 154-159, 160, 164, 167.

Columbus, Bartholomew, 26, 29.

Columbus, Christopher, 16, 17, 19, 20, 25-36, 54, 69-70.

Columbus, Diego, 29.

Conkling, Roscoe, 205-206.

Cornwallis, Charles, 85, 124, 272, 278, 311, 313, 328.

Coronado, Francisco Vasquez de, 39, 72.

Craven, Tunis Augustus Macdonough, 18, 360-361, 380.

Crockett, David, 18, 246-250, 256, 260.

Cushing, William B., 370.

Custer, George A., 309.

Custis, Mrs. Martha, 82, 123.

Custis, Mary Randolph, 295.

Custis, Washington Parke, 295.

Cutler, Manasseh, 233.

Davis, Jefferson, 139, 201-204, 213, 280, 303, 305, 306.

Decatur, Stephen, 332-337, 339, 341, 377-378.

Delaware, Thomas West, Lord, 48.

De Leon, Juan Ponce, 38, 39, 71.

Dewey, George, 370-376, 381.

Dinwiddie, Robert, 80, 81.

Douglas, Stephen A., 133-136, 138, 164, 191-193, 211.

Drake, Sir Francis, 38-39, 72.

Early, Jubal Anderson, 291.

Edwards, Jonathan, 180.

Ericsson, John, 367.

Evans, Robley D., 376.

Everett, Edward, 193-194, 211-212.

Fairfax, Thomas, Lord, 78.

Fairfax, William, 78.

Fannin, James W., 243.

Farragut, David Glasgow, 15, 17, 22, 330, 351-360, 366, 370,
371-372, 373, 374, 376, 380, 381.

Ferdinand of Aragon, 29, 31, 35.

Fillmore, Millard, 119, 127.

Fiske, John, 21, 22.

Ford, Paul Leicester, 21.

Franklin, Benjamin, 15, 21, 169-174, 207, 208, 325.

Franklin, William Buel, 301.

Frémont, John C., 122, 198, 250, 251, 255-257, 261.

Gage, Thomas, 175.

Garfield, James Abram, 114, 152-153, 166, 206.

Gates, Horatio, 267-269, 271, 272, 311, 312, 313.

Gilbert, Sir Humphrey, 42.

Gorman, Arthur P., 157.

Grant, Ulysses Simpson, 22, 141, 148-150, 152, 153, 165-166, 206,
280, 285, 286-288, 289, 290, 292, 293, 298, 303, 304, 306, 308,
310, 316, 317.

Greeley, Horace, 139.

Greene, Nathanael, 267, 272, 273, 276, 311, 312.

Gridley, Charles Vernon, 373.

Guiteau, Charles J., 152-153, 166.

Hale, Nathan, 18.

Hamilton, Alexander, 21, 89, 91, 96, 179-183, 205, 209.

Hamilton, Henry, 229.

Hancock, John, 175-178, 209, 322, 323.

Hancock, Winfield Scott, 293.

Hanks, Nancy, 129-130.

Hanna, Mark, 161.

Harding, Chester, 221.

Harrison, Benjamin, 157, 159-160, 167, 207.

Harrison, William Henry, 114-115, 126, 148, 159, 186, 224, 350.

Hay, John, 207.

Hayes, Rutherford Birchard, 114, 151-152, 166, 201, 206.

Hayne, Robert Young, 187, 188, 189.

Heath, William, 266.

Henderson, Richard, 218, 226.

Henry, Patrick, 132, 178-179, 209, 226, 227.

Heriot, Robert, 348.

Herkimer, Nicholas, 267.

Hill, A.P., 299, 308.

Hood, John Bell, 293, 316.

Hooker, Joseph, 280, 285-286, 287, 297, 301, 315.

Hopkins, Ezekial, 323.

Houston, Felix, 317.

Houston, Sam, 116, 238-246, 248, 259-260.

Howard, Oliver Otis, 302.

Hubbard, Elbert, 22.

Hudson, Henry, 39-40, 59, 72-73.

Hulburt, Archer Butler, 22.

Hull, Isaac, 330-332, 340, 341, 377.

Hull, William, 191, 330.

Ingersoll, Robert G., 206.

Isabella of Castile, 29, 30, 31, 35.

Jackson, Andrew, 15, 21, 99, 101-113, 114, 121, 122, 125-126, 148,
156, 163, 164, 186, 189, 190, 191, 239, 240, 241, 242, 244,
245, 246, 247, 279, 280, 281, 329, 352.

Jackson, Thomas Jonathan, 22, 287, 290, 297, 299-302, 307, 308,
311, 317.

James, Reuben, 335-336.

Jay, John, 208.

Jefferson, Thomas, 13, 21, 89, 90, 91, 92-95, 96, 98, 124, 155,
174, 178, 181, 227, 235, 236, 259, 276, 323.

John II., King of Portugal, 28.

Johnson, Andrew, 143-148, 165, 196, 197, 199, 203, 212.

Johnston, Albert Sidney, 280, 302-304, 311, 317, 318.

Johnston, Joseph E., 289-290, 296, 305-306, 308, 315, 318, 319.

Joliet, Louis, 52, 73-74.

Jones, John Paul, 320-328, 329, 344, 377.

Jones, William, 321.

Jones, William Paul, 321.

Kearny, Stephen Watts, 257.

Kenton, Simon, 221-225, 228, 234, 258.

Kilpatrick, Hugh Judson, 293.

King, Rufus, 97.

La Salle, Robert Cavalier, 51-54, 73, 79.

Lawrence, James, 18, 340-342, 347, 378.

Lee, Charles, 266.

Lee, "Light Horse Harry," 272-274, 294, 311, 313.

Lee, Robert Edward, 22, 141, 148, 149, 203, 274, 280, 283, 284,
285, 286, 289, 292, 294-299, 301, 302, 305, 306, 307, 308,
310, 315, 316-317.

Lewis, Meriwether, 235-237, 250, 259.

Lincoln, Abraham, 15, 16, 19, 21, 113, 129-143, 144, 145, 146,
147, 152, 164-165, 192, 193, 198-199, 200, 257, 289.

Lincoln, Thomas, 129-131.

Lodge, Henry Cabot, 21.

Longstreet, James, 306-307, 318.

Lovejoy, Amos, 253.

Lowell, James Russell, 143.

Lummis, Charles F., 21.

McCardle, Eliza, 144-145.

Maclay, Edward Stanton, 22.

McClellan, George B., 282-286, 287, 296, 297, 301, 305, 307,
314, 318.

Macdonough, Thomas, 342, 345-346, 379.

McDowell, Irwin, 301, 305.

McKinley, William, 159, 161-163, 167, 168.

McPherson, James Birdseye, 293.

Madison, James, 95-97, 125, 340.

Magellan, Ferdinand, 38, 71.

Magruder, John Bankhead, 308.

Mansfield, Joseph King Fenno, 301.

Marchena, Juan Perez de, 30.

Marion, Francis, 272-273, 311, 312.

Marquette, Jacques, 52, 74.

Marshall, Humphrey, 166.

Marshall, James Wilson, 255.

Marshall, John, 183-184, 210.

Meade, George G., 280, 286, 293.

Milam, Benjamin R., 243.

Miles, Nelson A., 309-310, 319.

Minuit, Peter, 59.

Monroe, James, 89, 97-98, 125, 158, 189, 201, 211.

Montgomery, Richard, 266.

Moody, William, 251.

Morris, Robert, 174.

Newport, Christopher, 43, 44, 46.

Nicolet, Jean, 51, 73.

Oglethorpe, James, 66-69, 75.

Ortiz, Juan, 45.

Pakenham, Edward Michael, 106, 107, 108.

Parker, Theodore, 23.

Parkman, Francis, 20, 21.

Paul, John, 321.

Paul, John; see Jones, John Paul.

Paul, William, 321.

Pearson, Richard, 320, 326, 327.

Pemberton, John Clifford, 308.

Penn, William, 21, 62-66, 74.

Perry, Matthew Calbraith, 350-351, 364, 379, 381.

Perry, Oliver Hazard, 346-350, 379.

Philip, John W., 376.

Philip, King, 41.

Pierce, Benjamin, 119.

Pierce, Franklin Scott, 114, 119-121, 127, 200, 280, 282.

Pike, Zebulon, 237, 259.

Pocahontas, 45, 46.

Polk, James Knox, 114, 116-117, 126-127, 281.

Pomeroy, Seth, 266.

Pope, John, 293, 297, 301, 307.

Porter, David, 352.

Porter, David, jr., 329-330, 345, 352-353, 377, 380.

Porter, David Dixon, 370.

Powhatan, The, 41, 45.

Preble, Edward, 333, 334, 339, 342-343, 378.

Putnam, Elizabeth, 263.

Putnam, Israel, 232, 263-266, 311.

Putnam, Joseph, 263.

Putnam, Rufus, 232-234, 258-259.

Raleigh, Sir Walter, 42-43.

Reed, Deborah, 171-172.

Revere, Paul, 175.

Rolfe, John, 46.

Roosevelt, Theodore, 162-163, 167-168.

Root, Elihu, 207.

Rosecrans, William Starke, 293.

Rusk, Thomas Jefferson, 244, 245.

St. Clair, Arthur, 233, 274-276, 313.

St. Leger, Barry, 270.

Saltonstall, Dudley, 323.

Sampson, William Thomas, 376.

Santa Anna, 127, 243, 244, 245, 248, 249, 281.

Santangel, Luis de, 30, 31.

Schley, Winfield Scott, 376.

Schuyler, Philip John, 267, 311.

Scott, Winfield, 119, 120, 188, 245, 280-282, 292, 295, 305,
310, 314.

Scudder, Horace E., 21.

Semmes, Raphael, 361-363, 380.

Seward, William H., 137, 194-200, 212.

Shaw, Robert Gould, 18.

Sheridan, Philip Henry, 287, 290-292, 293, 294, 307, 308, 311,
315-316.

Sherman, John, 152, 199, 200-201, 212-213.

Sherman, William Tecumseh, 280, 287-290, 292, 293, 304, 305,
306, 308, 309, 315, 316, 318, 319.

Skelton, Martha, 93.

Smith, John, 21, 43-49, 73, 76.

Soto, Hernando de, 39, 45, 72.

Spalding, H.H., 251.

Spencer, Joseph, 266.

Stark, John, 267.

Stephens, Alexander H., 201-205, 213.

Stevens, Thaddeus, 147, 194-200, 201, 212.

Stewart, Charles, 342, 343, 378.

Stuart, J.E.B., 296, 307-308, 318-319.

Stuyvesant, Peter, 21, 60-62, 74.

Sullivan, John, 266.

Sumner, Charles, 194-200, 212.

Sumner, Edwin Vose, 293, 301.

Sumter, Thomas, 102, 272-273, 312.

Sutter, John Augustus, 250, 254-256, 260-261.

Taft, William Howard, 163, 168.

Tarleton, Guy, 272, 312.

Taylor, Henry C., 376.

Taylor, Zachary, 22, 114, 118-119, 120, 127, 148, 202, 280, 281.

Tecumseh, 115.

Thomas, George H., 280, 292-293, 316.

Thomas, John, 266.

Tilden, Samuel J., 151.

Todd, Dolly Payne, 96.

Todd, Mary, 132.

Toscanelli, Paolo del Pozzo, 27, 32.

Travis, William Barrett, 18, 243, 246-250, 260.

Tyler, John, 115-116, 126, 211.

Van Buren, Martin, 113-114, 115, 118, 126, 191.

Veach, William, 221.

Vespucci, Amerigo, 37, 71.

Wainwright, Richard, 376.

Ward, Artemus, 266.

Washington, Augustine, 76, 77, 78.

Washington, George, 14, 15, 16, 17, 19, 21, 22, 76-89, 90, 92, 93,
97, 123-124, 129, 137, 150, 164, 174, 175, 177, 180, 181, 183,
194, 209, 262, 266, 269, 271, 272, 274, 275, 276, 277, 278, 279,
282, 295, 310, 312.

Washington, Lawrence, 76, 78, 79, 83.

Wayne, Anthony, 224, 234, 258, 259, 276-279, 313-314.

Webster, Daniel, 21, 110, 184-190, 193, 194, 198, 210.

Welles, Gideon, 364.

Wesley, Charles, 68.

Wheeler, Joseph, 309, 319.

Whitfield, George, 69.

Whitman, Marcus, 117, 250-254, 260.

Whittier, John G., 257.

Williams, Roger, 57-59, 74.

Wilson, Woodrow, 21.

Winslow, John Ancrum, 361-363, 380-381.

Wooster, David, 266.

Worden, John Lorimer, 367-370, 381.

York, Duke of, 61, 62, 63, 64.

* * * * *

End of Project Gutenberg's American Men of Action, by Burton E. Stevenson