Chapter VII: The Battle of the Swash

On the morning of the 11th of May, 1890, the British fleet crossed the bar, and steamed leisurely past Sandy Hook, and into the Swash and main ship channels. The movements of the fleet seemed to be characterized by great deliberation; as though there was nothing to fear, and no occasion for haste. The larger vessels were especially slow in their movements, and felt their way along in the most cautious manner, each one being guided or piloted by two or more torpedo boats, which kept a good distance in advance, and sounded the channel carefully and constantly, indicating by signals the course for the larger vessels to pursue. There was no haste, no confusion, no noise or cheering, and no apparent notice was taken of the balls and shells with which the antiquated guns on the forts on Long and Staten Islands,--with much noise and banging, but no harmful results,--managed to splash the water about half a mile or a mile away from anything that they were aimed at. Most of the smaller vessels gathered together near the point of Sandy Hook, with the evident intention of anchoring in the Horseshoe. Here the first real fighting took place. Some old wooden gunboats, (relics of the War of the Rebellion) had been hastily repaired and equipped with one or two guns; and had been stationed in the Horseshoe to act as a sort of a harassing or observing force. The intention had evidently been for them to watch the movements of the enemy from behind the shelter of Sandy Hook, possibly exchanging a few shots with some of his weaker vessels; and then, having acquired some knowledge of his movements and intentions, as well as a taste of his quality, to retire up the harbor, and join the remainder of the American fleet in the Upper Bay. They acquired much more knowledge than they bargained for; and, instead of a mere taste, they got a surfeit of the enemy's quality.

As the first large iron-clad--the "Camperdown,"--came within range, they opened fire on her from their eight-inch guns. Having to fire across the land (Sandy Hook) their first shots went away over the "Camperdown," and the shells exploded harmlessly in the shallow water miles away near the Coney Island shore.

The gunboats sat so low in the water, that their crews were obliged to elevate their guns considerably, so as to have the projectiles go clear of the land. This, of course, sent them away over the vessels at which they were aimed; and although the low point of Sandy Hook afforded them protection against the guns of the British, it also prevented their own guns from being of any service. This attack, however, seemed to spur the British Admiral into counter-action. A vigorous exchange of signals was made between various members of the fleet, and in a short time several of the torpedo boats and smaller armored cruisers ran close in, by Sandy Hook, and running up past the point and around into the Horseshoe, brought the American gunboats into plain sight, and point blank range. Of course the result of the contest between these modern iron-clads and the antiquated wooden tubs of the Americans, was a foregone conclusion, and in less than fifteen minutes from the time that the first gun was fired, the latter were disposed of in the most summary manner. One sank where she lay, her wooden hull having been perforated from stem to stern with the projectiles fired from two rapid firing machine guns on one of the British gunboats. Another one was disabled by a huge ten-inch shell, which struck her nearly amidships, and literally blew her all to pieces. The third one sought such safety as she could, by running aground, and her crew, having first set her on fire, took to their boats, and rowing ashore, disappeared in the thick cedar forest which covers this part of Sandy Hook. No appreciable loss or damage was inflicted upon the English vessels--all but one of which proceeded quietly to anchor in the Horseshoe. This one steamed rapidly out to the Flagship, communicated the result of the action to the Admiral, and received orders to escort the remaining smaller vessels of the fleet to the sheltered anchorage which had been so quickly and easily won. The merchant cruisers, "Umbria," "Etruria" and "City of New York" also anchored in the Horseshoe. Shortly after these vessels had anchored, fire was opened upon them from an earth-work on the Highlands of Navesink, which had been hastily thrown up, and mounted with five or six old smoothbore Dahlgreen guns.

A few well aimed shells soon drove the men away from this battery, and although on occasional shell was sent in that direction at intervals during the remainder of the day, the Dahlgreens were thenceforward dumb.

Meanwhile the balance of the fleet, consisting of the larger iron-clad battle ships and cruisers, had anchored in the Swash Channel, in a line extending nearly a mile and a half southeasterly from the point of intersection of the Swash with the Main Channel, near buoy fourteen. This position had evidently been previously selected by the English Admiral as the best one outside of the Narrows; which were supposed to be thoroughly protected by torpedoes and other submerged obstructions. Nothing had as yet been been of the American fleet. It was known to be assembled in the Upper Bay; but it seemed strange that it should thus permit the enemy to establish himself in a position of his own choosing, without any hindrance or opposition.

The position was a remote one, it is true; but, still, if the enemy's guns had a range as claimed--of over eleven miles,--a very large part of New York, and nearly the whole of Brooklyn, were within reach of his shells. There has never, so far as I can learn, any satisfactory reason been given for this strange lack of action on the part of the Americans. The only plausible explanation of it lies in the fact that they appreciated the vast disproportion between their own fleet and that of the enemy, and realizing the utter hopelessness of attacking the latter successfully by daylight, and on equal terms, determined to husband such strength as they possessed, and concentrate the whole of it in the night attack upon the English, which had been determined upon.

Thus it happened that the afternoon of the 11th of May passed quietly and uneventfully, save when the silence was broken by the distant reports of the guns from the Staten Island forts, or by the occasional shelling of the abandoned earthwork on the Highlands. Towards sundown a sort of a reconnaisance was made in the direction of the Narrows by three torpedo boats; but, as they approached within closer range of the guns of the forts, they abandoned their purpose without reaching the first line of submerged obstructions. One of them was disabled by a solid shot from Fort Richmond, and was towed back to the Horseshoe by her two consorts in an apparently sinking condition. As nightfall approached, there was an evident increase of excitement and activity on all the English vessels. Torpedo boats and steam launches, darted hither and thither from one of the anchorages to the other, evidently conveying orders and instructions for the coming night. Torpedo booms and nets were placed in position, and elaborate instructions were issued to each separate commander what to do in case of attack--steam was kept up on all vessels, and the electric search lights were thoroughly tested, so as to leave no doubt of their being in perfect order. Every preparation which experience or ingenuity could suggest, was made to resist any attack, no matter what its character might be, and no matter whence it came.

For the first time in the memory of living men, there were no harbor lights lighted that night. Orders had been given by telegraph to all the different light-house keepers not to light their lamps, for fear that the enemy might want to make some movement by night, which the lighthouses would aid him in accomplishing. So from Sandy Hook to Bobbin's Reef, in the Upper Bay, not a light was to be seen, except such as was shown by the English vessels.

As soon as darkness set in, the firing both from the forts and from the ships ceased; and an utter stillness fell upon the scene, broken only now and then by the shrill whistle of some boatswain, or the hoarse murmur of some loud-voiced petty officer, giving orders to the watch on duty.

This quiet condition of things continued until after midnight. At one o'clock A.M. all the light-houses in the harbor were lighted simultaneously, and the surprised Englishmen saw themselves surrounded with stationary and revolving lights, from Sandy Hook and the Navesink Highlands on the south, to Cheesequake and Princess Bay on the southwest and west; Elm Tree and Toad Hill on the north-west, and the Narrows and Robbin's Reef in the distant north.

A hasty consultation of their charts convinced them that these were merely the regular light-houses of the harbor; but if so, why had they not been lighted earlier? Evidently their darkness all the evening, and their simultaneous lighting at this late hour, proved that instructions had been given to their keepers in advance, and if so, must have been given with some object in view. So guns were fired, and signals were exchanged, and orders were given to the whole fleet to prepare for instant action, and the whole surface of the Lower Bay seemed to be illuminated as if by magic, by the powerful electric search lights which were turned in all directions, making everything plainly visible almost to the horizon.

A faint sound, as of the distant rushing of waters, was heard in the direction of the Narrows, and the word was passed quietly from officers to men: "They're coming now, boys. Look sharp; and be ready for them." It was the last of the ebb tide, and aided by it the American fleet made rapid progress down the bay.

Suddenly, to the great bewilderment and dismay of the English, a vast number of powerful electric lights seemed to spring out of the water in almost every direction around them. These were nearly as powerful as the search lights on their own vessels; and dazzled the eyes of the British so completely, that their search lights were rendered comparatively useless. Presuming, of course, that each of these was on board of a vessel, and therefore represented something to be destroyed, the English commenced blazing away with their guns, both great and small, directing them against these lights.

"I had no idea the beggars had such a big fleet," said the British Admiral to an officer standing near him on the dock of the flagship. "Why there must be nearly two hundred of them. But they must be small things, or we would know all about them. We have a list of every ship in their navy up to last winter, and all told, there were less than forty, so I don't fear them much."

If the admiral had only known then, what he discovered later on, he need have had still less fear of these lights, and moreover, might have saved a vast amount of valuable ammunition which was needlessly wasted; for these powerful lights, instead of proceeding from the deck or spars of hostile ships, were nothing more than decoy lights on long spar buoys, whose lower ends being loaded, permitted them to float upright with the tide, with about half their length out of water, thus raising the lights about fifteen to twenty feet above the surface of the bay. The lights were fed by powerful storage batteries, and had been turned on as they had been launched overboard from two swift little torpedo launches about a mile up the bay. The tide being ebb, carried them quickly down to where the enemy's fleet lay at anchor, and the latter, almost before they could realize their position, found themselves, as they supposed, in the midst of the American fleet.

These "Blinding buoys" as they were called, were one of the numerous ingenious devices which had been called into existence by the supposed approach of war.

They served their purpose of blinding and confusing the enemy admirably; and if the Americans had only had force enough to have enabled them to take advantage of the fright and confusion they occasioned, the result of the conflict would have been very different from what it was. When we consider however, the very limited means at their disposal, it will be seen that they accomplished results which seem well nigh incredible. The time of launching the "blinding buoys" had been carefully chosen, so as to utilize them for the longest possible period. The idea was to have them reach the anchored vessels about a quarter of an hour before the tide turned, so that they would remain among them as long as the slack water ebb lasted. So the Englishmen kept blazing away at them for nearly half an hour, without either inflicting any damage, or discovering their fraudulent character. In the noise and confusion, it became impossible to signal the other vessels of the fleet; and the wisdom of issuing detailed orders in advance was now apparent.

In pursuance of these orders, the "Etruria," and "Umbria," and "City of New York," and several of the other unarmored cruisers, slipped their cables, and ran quietly out to sea. The smaller gunboats, at anchor in the Horseshoe, extinguished all their lights, and gave no indication whatever of their presence. But the torpedo boats hastened to the scene of battle, eager to come to the assistance or the rescue of their more formidable consorts. And it was one of these, which first discovered the fraudulent character of the "blinding buoys."

This boat--the "Terror"--having fixed upon one of these electric lights as her own especial prey, made a dash for it, with the idea of affixing a torpedo to it, and blowing it skyward. Nearer and nearer it came--its dazzling brilliancy illuminating every part of the deck of the little vessel, whose officers and crew stood with bated breath, waiting for the crash which would indicate that their prey was within their reach.

"Now! Lookout! Hold fast! Here she is!" Every man braced himself and grasped some portion of the vessel nearest to him;--the rail--a stanchion--a rope--anything to steady himself by, until the force of the collision should have spent itself--when--behold! the light disappears under the bow; and reappears a moment later, swaying wildly from side to side, a dozen yards or more astern. There is no crash--no collision--no shock--no tangible thing against which to launch the waiting torpedo; only an exclamation by the man who had been quietly waiting for the proper moment to launch his deadly missile, of--"Well! I'll be d----d!" That was all.

The true character of the buoys having been thus discovered, no time was lost in conveying the information to the nearest of the large ships; which immediately ceased firing, and endeavored to signal her consorts to do the game. Owing to the smoke, however, it was some time before she could make her signals understood; and just she did so, an immense explosion took place under her side, which seemed almost to lift her, (monster though she was) out of the water; a shivering and crashing of machinery and iron work ensued, and the rushing waters poured into her hull, through a vast yawning chasm, which the dynamite shell had made in her side. She sank in about fifteen minutes--the first victim of Zalinski's dynamite gun. Most of her crew were rescued; although quite a number went down with her.

By this time, the smoke had cleared away, and the search lights were again beginning to be of some service, because the flood tide had commenced running, and had carried the buoys away in towards Staten Island. The lights enabled the English to discover several vessels; among which was the dynamite gun boat "Vesuvius," whose maiden effort had been so successful.

The slanting muzzles of her three guns could be plainly seen projecting above her deck; and their attendants were evidently getting them ready for another discharge. Two fast gun-boats, armed with rapid firing four-inch guns, were signalled to attack her, and disable her at once--which they proceeded to do with great promptness and despatch.

The vessel herself withstood the onslaught fairly well; but the muzzles of the long guns being entirely exposed, they were soon rendered useless; and the commander of the "Vesuvius," seeing that her usefulness was ended, sought safety in flight up the Bay.

Meanwhile the numerous torpedo boats were rushing to and fro, now and then succeeding in exploding a torpedo in the vicinity of one of the larger English vessels; but more frequently kept at a safe distance by the torpedo booms and nets.

The submarine boat "Destroyer," succeeded in partially destroying two iron-clads before she met destruction herself.

As this occurred in a most unexpected and curious manner, I will give an account of it, while describing the battle; although the particulars as to the manner of her destruction were not known until long after the conflict was over. She had successfully exploded large torpedoes directly under the bottoms of two of the English ships; completely disabling one, and nearly sinking the other; and had retired to a short distance from the scene of conflict, where she lay partially submerged, evidently preparing to attack the "Camperdown," one of the most formidable vessels of the fleet.

After a delay of about a half an hour, she was seen to start in the direction of the "Camperdown," and shortly before reaching that vessel, to disappear under water; presumably to go under her great adversary's bottom.

This was the last that was seen of her. The panic and excitement on the "Camperdown" was intense, as the officers and crew waited minute after minute for the inevitable crash, which would in all probability, sink their vessel, and involve the majority of themselves in certain death. But notwithstanding the suspense and terror which possessed them, not a man left his post, or refused to obey the orders of his superiors. The whole crew was mustered on deck, the boats were manned, life belts distributed among the men, crews were told off to each boat; and in a grim and deathlike silence they awaited the shock which would be the signal for them to leave their vessel, and trust themselves to the mercy of the waters. But they waited in vain. The shock never came. The "Destroyer" not only failed to destroy her vast antagonist, but failed also to re-appear herself on the surface of the water.

"Something must have happened to her!" exclaimed the American admiral, who was watching her movements with a night glass, as well as the smoke and the uncertain light from the search lights would permit, from the bridge of the "Baltimore," his flagship, which was manoeuvring around about two miles up the harbor.

"Something" indeed had happened to her; but it was not until several weeks afterwards that anybody knew exactly what it was. Then divers found her "standing on her head," with her ram so deeply imbedded in the muddy bottom of the bay, that it required the united efforts of two or three of the most powerful derricks in the harbor, to extricate her. When she was finally brought to the surface, the dead bodies of her crew were found on board of her. They had evidently tried in vain to open the manhole, and take the desperate chance of getting out, even in the face of the inrushing water, in preference to the certain death from asphyxiation, which otherwise awaited them. Their efforts for some reason had been unsuccessful, and the supply of fresh air becoming exhausted, they had evidently died from suffocation.

As yet, the American cruisers had taken no part in the struggle. They were unarmored, and their guns were of comparatively short range; and it would have been folly for them to have attacked their heavily armored and armed opponents. The three American turret ships, however, had at length come within range, and opened fire from their revolving turrets upon the Englishmen. The heavy balls from their smoothbore guns seemed to have but little effect on the thick armor coating of the English ships; and as they could only fire at each revolution of the turret, their fire was as slow, as it was ineffectual.

Moreover the turrets soon proved utterly inadequate to resist the tremendous penetrating power of the heavy English guns, and were either absolutely perforated by the shot and shells; or else were so bruised and battered and jarred and jammed, that they could no longer be revolved on their carriages, and became utterly useless.

The most complete and phenomenal success on the American side, however, was achieved by two insignificant looking little boats which involved an entirely new--albeit a very simple--principle of marine warfare as applicable to Harbor defense. These boats had been built by private subscription as experiments, at a cost of about $50,000 each. Their inventor had appealed in vain to Congress to authorize the construction of at least thirty or forty of them, which he claimed would be amply sufficient to protect all of our principal seaports, at an aggregate cost of about $2,000,000; or less than that of a single first class iron-clad war vessel. His idea was strongly backed up by the Secretary of the Navy, who urged Congress to make an appropriation for the purpose of testing it thoroughly. When, however, the inventor explained to the members of that intelligent and brilliant body, that the principle upon which he based his invention was that of self-destruction; and that to use his craft in actual warfare, was to destroy it, these back country gentleman, whose sole idea of statesmanship seemed to be limited to posing and shouting like howling dervishes before the shrine of what they called "economy," posed and shouted more violently than ever; and holding up both hands in holy horror, had exclaimed: "What! waste two millions of the people's money on things that are good for nothing without you destroy them? Never! never! Let us rather reduce the terrible taxes which now burden our struggling and poverty-stricken people; or if the surplus must be spent, let us put it in the rivers and harbors and public buildings of the country;" and straightway the appropriations for those admirable purposes were doubled, and the hare-brained inventor packed off from Washington with a very large sized economical flea in his ear.

He had, however, at length succeeded in impressing some wealthy New Yorkers with the value of his invention, and sufficient money had been raised to build two boats, according to his plans. These boats being intended for harbor defense only, did not need to be especially seaworthy; nor did they require large quarters for crew, or much space for fuel. Consequently, nearly their whole interior could be occupied by engines and boilers; thus ensuring them a speed which approximated thirty miles an hour. They were propelled by twin screws, and could therefore turn around in nearly their own length. They carried no arms or ammunition of any kind, except a gigantic tube or cartridge, containing two tons of dynamite, which was carried in a hollow place left for the purpose in the long steel ram, with which their bows were armed. A full crew for one of these boats consisted of eight men--two engineers, four firemen, and two pilots, one of whom acted as deck-hand when required.

These men had been carefully selected from the marine militia, and for several weeks had been drilling constantly in the upper and lower bays. The drill was a peculiar one, and consisted simply of running at high speed for a mile or so; then, at the stroke of a bell, the four firemen would rush on deck, and leap over-board; a few moments later, at the sound of a second bell, one engineer, and one pilot would follow them; and lastly, just as the headway of the boat began to slacken, the remaining engineer and pilot did likewise, striking out, and swimming away from the boat, as rapidly as they could. Being provided with cork jackets, they had no difficulty in sustaining themselves until they were picked up by a steam launch, which always accompanied them as a tender, and on which they would rejoin their abandoned boat, which by that time would be drifting lazily about with the tide, a mile or so away. The men had become thoroughly accustomed to this service, and enjoyed it vastly, although the summer was backward and the water was cold. These boats were also arranged with large water tanks, which when filled, brought them very low down in the water. Their roofs were a sort of combination of dome and turtle back, composed of four-inch steel plates.

Thus, when submerged to their "fighting depth," they offered but a small target as they approached the enemy, and if a shot or shell should strike them, it would in all probability glance off without injury, owing to the angle at which it would strike. An electric wire led from the pilot house to a clock-work arrangement, attached to a percussion cap, which communicated with the two tons of dynamite in the hollow bow of the boat. The problem was simply to rush at the broadside of the opposing vessel from a distance of a couple of miles or so, and as soon as possible, to give the engineers and firemen the signal to jump overboard. Then, the pilots having remained at their post until they were certain that the boat would strike the enemy, to fasten the wheel amidships, with lashings provided for that purpose, touch the button communicating with the clock-work, jump overboard and swim for their lives during the seventy or eighty seconds in which the clock arrangement was doing its deadly work; and then, after the tremendous explosion, which would blow both their own and the enemy's vessel into a thousand fragments, to float quietly about until picked up by their tender.

In was a perfectly simple and feasible thing to do, and in this, its first trial in actual warfare, it worked to a charm.

The "Victoria," the largest and most formidable of the turreted ships, and the "Camperdown," the largest of the armored ships, were the two vessels selected for the two experimental dynamite rams to operate against.

These rams bore the suggestive names of "Suicide" and "Samson."

The smoke having partially cleared away, the position of the two English ships could be accurately determined, and the two small rams at length received the expected signal to proceed to the attack. Making a circuit of about a mile, to get under good headway, they headed straight for their respective victims, and rushed towards them at a frightful rate of speed. They were followed at a considerable distance by their respective tenders. Their presence was soon discovered by the aid of the electric search lights, and a severe fire was opened on them from all the British vessels within range. Owing to their peculiar construction, this fire had little or no effect upon them; and they continued their headlong race towards the two giant ships, lying quietly at anchor in fancied security.

Suddenly several figures were seen to rush wildly astern and jump overboard. But still the rams kept up their tremendous speed, and were pointed directly at the amidship section of the two iron-clads. Nearer and nearer they came, in spite of the deadly and continuous firing from the enemy's guns, both great and small, which seemed utterly impotent to check their progress. At last, when they were within a couple of hundred yards or so of the iron-clads, each blew a short sharp single blast with its whistle, and two men were seen to run aft, and roll down the inclined surface of the turtle-backed roof of each ram, into the water. The rams themselves kept on, however, and a collision was seen to be inevitable. Orders were given to the English crews to hold themselves in readiness to repel boarders. But in vain! The tireless little rams rushed onward--madly, wildly, triumphantly, gladly--to their own destruction; but to the destruction also of their enemies. A jar, a sound--not so very loud--of snapping bolts and crushing iron plates; a sound of confused voices, saying: "She has struck us," "She has gone half way through us!" a few instants of comparative silence,--during which the officers consult hastily as to what had better be done. An order or two given in quick sharp tones; and then--with a mighty rumble and flash; with a frightful tossing and splashing of the water; with a thunderous roar, and a soul sickening shiver, which seemed to impart itself even to the sea, the two great ships, and their two little adversaries met a common fate--being both blown to atoms--and disappeared forever beneath the waves.

The loss of life was terrific on the two English ships; as most of their crews went down with them; but a few were rescued by boats, which were quickly lowered from the remaining vessels of the fleet; and quite a number were picked up by the launches, which were acting as tenders to the two rams, and gathering up their swimming crews. These latter had diminutive electric lights on their caps, and having turned these on, as soon as they jumped overboard, were easily discovered and picked up.

The effect of these tremendous explosions of dynamite was demoralizing in the extreme, to the English officers and crews: and although the attack was not pressed by the Americans, the order was given, to such of the fleet as remained, to hoist anchor, and proceed out to tea. It was now nearly daylight, and at six o'clock that morning (May 12th) the telegraph operator at Navesink Highlands telegraphed to the N.Y. Associated Press, as follows:

"British fleet all apparently lying at anchor just outside the bar. Three or four of the largest iron-clads missing. They are supposed to have been captured or sunk in the battle last night. The distance is too great to distinguish those which remain; but there seems to be considerable activity among the smaller vessels; and the launches are moving about from one ship to another, as if for consultation, or giving or receiving orders. The fleet is probably repairing damages, as far as possible, before proceeding to sea. It is supposed here that they will sail direct for Halifax for repairs and refitting."

This despatch was published in extra editions of all the newspapers in New York and Brooklyn; and, taken in connection with the accounts received from the officers and crews of the American fleet, which had returned to its anchorage in the upper Bay after the fight was over, and which united in describing the affair as a complete and glorious victory, it occasioned great rejoicing in those cities. Cannon were fired, flags were hoisted, thanksgiving services were held in many of the churches, and the citizens testified their delight and satisfaction in the wildest and most extravagant manner.

To add to the public excitement, and to intensify, if possible, the patriotic enthusiasm of the people, despatches arrived from General Schofield, to the effect that he had met a large body of the enemy, and had not only repulsed their attack, but had put them completely to rout and captured several thousand prisoners; and the flying remnants had been pursued by his cavalry to the St. Lawrence River, opposite Montreal.

So much simultaneous good news was decidedly exhilarating; and it is not to be wondered at, that pandemonium seemed to have broken loose in New York and Brooklyn that evening.

Bonfires were lighted; fireworks were set off; improvised torchlight processions made night hideous with their cheers, and drums and fifes, and cannon firings; and banners and transparencies, in which poor old John Bull was shot, and stabbed, and drawn and quartered, and in many other ingenious and hitherto unheard of ways, put an end to for ever and ever, were to be seen in every street.

In one of these, Ireland, represented as a broad shouldered, strapping young woman, with a suspiciously rubicund countenance (especially about the tip of her nose), dressed in green silk--_decolleté_--had thrown her brawny arms around the neck of Uncle Sam, who obligingly bent over, half way across the Atlantic, to permit this trans-oceanic caress. This transparency was wildly cheered, and was followed by a tremendous crowd of shouting and yelling men and boys, until the candles went out, and the bar-rooms closed for the night.

The newspapers of the 13th of May, in all parts of the country, indulged in the wildest jubilations, and the "croakers," who had theretofore called attention to the weakness of the American navy, and the defenseless condition of American seaports, were ridiculed and abused in the most unmeasured terms throughout the length and breadth of the land. American ingenuity was lauded to the skies, as being equal to every emergency, and able to bid defiance to all the antiquated Old World methods of war-making. The American Eagle--never a very modest bird--flapped its wings, and screamed in a manner which put to shame its most extravagant previous efforts in that line.

In England the situation was exactly reversed. The French cable had of course carried the news of the British defeat to Paris; and from them it had been wired to London, with such additions and exaggerations as French unfriendliness to England could suggest; and London was in an uproar. Lord Randolph Churchill was burned in effigy in various parts of the city and country, and a general chorus of "I told you so's," coupled with estimates of the cost in pounds, shillings and pence, of the destroyed fleet, went up like a National wail, from one end of Great Britain to the other. Bonfires were lighted on every hill-top in Ireland, and the streets of Dublin and Cork were fairly green with millions of Irish flags. The continental newspapers, especially the German and French ones, all contained labored articles, giving various accounts of the battle, and paying the highest tribute to the inventive genius of "those wonderful Americans," and condoling with England in rather a sarcastic vein upon her loss of prestige as a naval power. For a wonder, the French and German journals had at length a subject upon which they could agree, and they seemed to vie with each other in the publication of articles in which their intense hatred and jealousy of England, was but thinly disguised, under the most polite expressions of sympathy for her fall from a place among the highest, to a position among the third or fourth-rate powers of the world. The immediate dissolution of the "so called British Empire" was spoken of as a matter of course, and while it was generally conceded that Australia would be able to maintain itself as an independent power, the probable fate of British India was a subject upon which these writers displayed for three or four days, the customary combination of ignorance and ingenuity, for which the continental press of Europe is to justly renowned.