Chapter XXVI: Part II: Under Both Flags (2)

Vainly they tried to remount--they cut their horses loose, and on a little mound, General Custer, with scarcely a dozen men, all who were left, made his last {348}rally. In a few moments all was over. Of the twelve troops of the Seventh Cavalry, but one thing escaped alive--Myles Keogh's sorrel horse, Comanche, who came back into the lines a few days later, a most pitiable object. Thus perished General Custer, as brave and noble a soldier as ever lived!

The Utes gave a great amount of trouble in 1879, in Colorado, pouncing upon a wagon train and slaying Major Thornburgh and eleven of his men. They next murdered Agent Meeker, and carried many women into captivity.

The Apache Indians fell upon the settlers of Silver City, New Mexico, October 19, 1879, killing twenty-one men and women, and seventeen children. The men were shot and scalped, and the women tortured. Troops were sent to protect the remainder, but it was some time before they could be reached.

The year 1890 witnessed one of the most serious outbreaks of the red men of the Dakota reservations. The Ghost Dance was indulged in, and the feeling of dread and fear spread all over the Western country. This dance was instigated by Sitting Bull, who had returned to the reservation eleven years previous. It has always been a superstition among all the Indians that the Messiah would come to them some day, bring all their dead to life, and drive the whites out of the land. Sitting Bull encouraged the Sioux in Dakota to believe this.

At once the War Department was given full control of the Indians by the Interior Department. At the different agencies it was found that the Indians were stealing cattle and horses and running them off into the Bad Lands, where they designed starting a camp. It was well known that if Sitting Bull reached that stronghold he would be safe, so the Indian police at the Pine Ridge Agency were told to arrest him, which they did, and started back to the Agency, knowing a body of cavalry and infantry were following in their wake to assist them. But Sitting Bull's friends rushed to his assistance and a fierce hand-to-hand encounter took place. They all fought like fiends, and lost several of their numbers. But the police held the old chief captive, {349}and two of them shot him--Bullhead and Red Tomahawk. A son of the chief, Crow Foot, was slain also.

BATTLE OF WOUNDED KNEE CREEK,

|In the annals of American history there cannot be found a battle so fierce, bloody and decisive as the fight at Wounded Knee Creek between the Seventh Cavalry and Big Foots band of Sioux. It was a stand-up fight of the most desperate kind, in which nearly the entire band was annihilated, and although the soldiers outnumbered their opponents nearly three to one, the victory was won by two troops, about one hundred strong.

The night before the Indians had agreed to submit, and the troops were up bright and early in readiness to move by eight o'clock. At that hour the cavalry and dismounted troops were gathered about the Indian village, the Hotchkiss guns overlooking the camp not fifty yards away. The Indians were ordered to come forward, away from their tents, and when the band, under the leadership of Big Foot, walked out of their lodges and formed a semicircle in front of the soldiers' tents, there was nothing to indicate that they would not submit. Colonel Forsyth, an Indian fighter of tried worth, never gave a thought to the chance of a fight. When it was made plain to the band that their arms must be {350}given up, the murmur of discontent was unanimous.

When the soldiers proceeded to disarm them and search their tents the medicine man jumped up, uttered a loud incantation and fired at a trooper standing guard over the captured guns. That was the signal for fight, and in a second every buck in the party rose to his feet, cast aside the blanket which covered his winchester, and, taking aim, fired directly at the troop in front. It was a terrible onslaught, and so sudden that all were stunned but, quickly recovering, they opened fire on the enemy. The position of troops B and K would not allow their fellow-cavalry-men to fire, lest they shoot through the Indians and kill their own men. This the terrible duel raged for thirty minutes. Someone ordered “Spare the women,” but the squaws fought like demons and could not be distinguished from the men. The entire band was practically slaughtered, and those who escaped to the ravine were followed by the cavalry and shot down wherever found. The chief medicine man, whose incantations had caused the band to act with such murderous treachery, fell with a dozen bullets in his body. It is claimed that of the Indians there were but two survivors, one of which was a baby girl about three months old, who has since been adopted by a wealthy lady in Washington.

After {351}the defeat of the Indians at Wounded Knee Creek, they were ready to close the conflict and make the best terms possible with General Miles. On the 22d of January there was a grand military review in honor of the victory over the redskins. Ten thousand Sioux had a good opportunity to see the strength and discipline of the United States Army, the end of the ghost-dance rebellion being marked by a review of all the soldiers who had taken part in crushing the Indians. Thus passed into history probably not only the most remarkable of our Indian wars, but the last one there will ever be.

CHRISTOPHER CARSON.

|The subject of our sketch was one of the most noted mountaineers, trappers and hunters that ever lived.

He was no less renowned as a guide and a soldier. He was a native of Madison County, Kentucky, where he was born December 24, 1809. When he was a babe his father removed his family to Howard County, Missouri. Here he spent {352}many happy days in hunting wild game, and making himself familiar with nature. The schoolroom had not very many charms for him, and at fifteen he was apprenticed to a saddler, with whom he remained two years. But this employment was irksome to him, and he soon freed himself, and we next hear of him as a trapper, which was more congenial to his taste, as he remained one for eight years. He next engaged as hunter to Bent's Fort, and eight more years glided by. Few men understood the nature of the Indians more thoroughly than did he. He dealt with them in a truthful, straightforward way, which won their regard, and the government appointed him Indian agent in New Mexico, where he was singularly successful in making treaties with the red men, which were religiously kept.

His services during the Civil War were inestimable in New Mexico, Colorado and the Indian Territory, for which he was promoted to colonel, and was brevetted brigadier-general.

He died from a rupture of an artery in the neck, at Fort Lynn, Colorado, on the 23d of May, 1868.

THE WORLD'S COLUMBIAN EXPOSITION.

|The next great fair which our country saw, was planned on a huge scale. It was also an invitation to the peoples of all lands, who liberally responded. This was the World's Fair, and it was rightly named, for it proved a gathering of all nations. It was opened in May, 1893, and closed October 30. The features of the Fair were varied, and its inception and fulfillment were on a gigantic scale. Nearly every country on earth sent some representation to the Fair, and during its existence millions of strangers visited the city.

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There was a long and earnest contest as to what city should have the honor of being selected to hold the great World's Fair, St. Louis, Cincinnati, New York, Washington and Chicago, each presenting powerful reasons why the choice should fall upon it. But Congress settled the question by giving to Chicago the coveted honor, and without delay commissioners were chosen, and {354}officials and citizens went busily to work, hand in hand, to make the fair the grandest ever projected.

The grounds selected were at Jackson Park, Chicago, and comprised 640 acres. Magnificent buildings were erected, costing from $10,000 to $300,000 each, and every State engaged with the others in a friendly rivalry. There were forty-seven State and Territorial buildings, each one noted for a style of architecture dissimilar to any of the rest, and yet all remarkably beautiful.

It was well represented by foreign peoples, fifty-one nations and thirty-nine colonies participating. The edifices erected by the directors, such as Transportation, Machinery Hall, Electrical Building, etc., were numerous and costly. The beauties of the Art Gallery were a revelation to the busy, pushing American, and the man or woman who spent but a few days among the wonders of the great World's Fair of 1893 found food for reflection and pleasant memories to last a lifetime. Nature was not overlooked and the horticultural show was a marvel of beauty. The Fisheries Building was deemed among the handsomest on the grounds, costing $225,000, but where all were so fine and-so well adapted to their intended use, it is impossible to particularize.

The fair, it was expected, would be opened by President Cleveland in person, but State reasons forbidding his presence, it was arranged that he should touch an electric button in Washington which should start the machinery here, which was done. The fair was dedicated on the 20th of October, 1892, with imposing and lengthy ceremonies, and opened to the world in May, 1893.

Figures do not appeal to the youthful mind, but still they are necessary for comparison, and when I tell my young readers that the Vienna exposition in 1873 expended $7,850,000, while Chicago's outlay was $17,000,000, it will easily be seen that the Worlds Fair of 1893, held at Chicago, was carried out with a magnificence never before equaled.

PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN OF 1896.

HEN {355}in the campaign of 1896 for President of our great republic, excitement ran high, as the “silverites” had put a candidate in the field in opposition to the Republican nominee, the latter party having adopted a platform which upheld the gold standard, and which pledged itself to make every effort to obtain recognition for silver as money by gold-standard countries, at a ratio to be agreed upon later; it also declared in favor of a protective tariff.

The year of 1893 had brought a terrible panic, which caused more suffering in its train, than any that had preceded it. Business was not to be had, labor was not sought, and failures were of everyday occurrence. People began to ask why this state of affairs existed. The advocates of silver answered that it was because that metal was legislated against, while the protective tariff people asserted that the troubles were due to the fact that the tariff was faulty--it neither provided money for governmental uses, nor work for the toilers.

At once a fierce contest of words and arguments began. The silver men formed clubs, papers presenting their arguments were scattered all over the land, able speakers were employed, and nothing was heard but the all-absorbing currency question.

The Democrats held a convention at Chicago in July with the silver men in the majority. William J. Bryan of Nebraska proved so convincing a speaker in the debates, that he held the attention of vast and enthusiastic audiences.

In return for his efforts {356}he was nominated for President, and Arthur Sewall of Maine for Vice, as William McKinley of Ohio, had been named in the Republican body that met at St. Louis, in June, with Garrett A. Hobart of New Jersey as Vice-President.

The platform sanctioned by the party was the free coinage of silver at the ratio of “sixteen to one,” and that the tariff was to remain unchanged. The watch 7 word of the party became “sixteen to one.”

When the Populists held their convention they chose Mr. Bryan for the Presidential chair, and Thomas Watson of Georgia for the position of Vice-President. The Silver party indorsed the choice of Bryan, and the whole country became engaged in the conflict. The excitement was intense, and party spirit ran high. The States seemed equally divided, the Eastern and Central coming out for gold, while the Western and Southern espoused the claims of the white metal.

Still another party arose, called the Gold Democrats, who convened at Indianapolis in September, and selected John M. Palmer of Illinois for their Presidential leader, and Simon B. Buckner of Kentucky for Vice. This party came out squarely for the gold standard only.

Mr. Bryan took the stump and addressed the people of the country at large. Mr. McKinley remained quietly in his own home at Canton, and received delegations. It seemed as though every man, woman and child took sides in the great question at stake, and each was equally sure of success. Debates noticeable {357}for their bitter intensity were heard, meetings were held day and night, and each party felt certain that in an acceptance of its particular views alone rested the safety and perpetuity of our country.

The battle culminated on November 5, 1896, when William McKinley was elected by a large majority. The rancor and bitterness died out, all parties accepted the people's choice, and he was inaugurated President March 4, 1897, amid a scene of splendor.

Of his patriotism, his clear-sightedness, his wisdom, his administration is daily giving proof, and his conduct of our late war with Spain is the best vindication of the calm, unbiased, just and grand character of our chief executive.

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“HOME, SWEET HOME.”

FRANCES E. WILLARD.

In {359}the spring of 1863 two great armies were encamped on either side of the Rappahannock River, one dressed in blue and the other dressed in gray. As twilight fell, the bands of music on the Union side began to play the martial music, “The Star Spangled Banner,” and “Rally Round the Flag;” and that challenge of music was taken up by those upon the other side, and they responded with “The Bonnie Blue Flag,” and “Away Down South in Dixie.” It was borne in upon the soul of a single soldier in one of those bands of music to begin a sweeter and a more tender air, and slowly as he played it they joined in a sort of chorus of all the instruments upon the Union side, until finally a great and mighty chorus swelled up and down our army--“Home, Sweet Home.” When they had finished there was no challenge yonder, for every band upon that farther shore had taken up the lovely air so attuned to all that is holiest and dearest, and one great chorus of the two great hosts went up to God; and when they had finished the sweet and holy melody, from the boys in gray there came a challenge, “Three cheers for home!” and as they went reverberating through the skies from both sides of the river, “something upon the soldiers' cheeks washed off the stains of powder.”

THE REV. O. H. TIFFANY, D. D.

|HOW solemn a thing is death!--and yet, how wonderful a thing {360}is life! God appoints it, man develops it, death seals its destiny, eternity unfolds its ultimate issues. Each human soul in which this power of life is has “its secrets and histories and marvels of destiny, heaven's splendors are over its dead, hell's terrors are under its feet, tragedies and poetries are in it, and a history for eternity.” Every social organism, every grand national aggregation of lives but generalizes the history of the individual, and thus the history of all life and of all living, whether in individuals, families, societies or nations, is one history, and that history the record of its conflicts, its defeats, its victories. The dawn of this life is a struggle for being, its growth a constant warfare with antagonisms, its maintenance is by continued defenses. And each and all of these create crises of destiny which may retard or advance, destroy or establish the whole.

Our national birth was a contest with physical difficulties, our establishment a victory over political antagonisms; the last desperate struggle was a conflict of ideas, a contest of moral principles; and we may hope that its issue shall be one of prosperity and peace.

Mountains are rock-ribbed and enduring because the earthquake has settled them on their foundations; the pines that crest them like a coronet withstand the rudest blasts, because they have been rooted by the storms which toss their giant branches. So universal freedom has been made sure by the passing turbulence of rebellion, and our national prosperity established by the rude blast of war.

It was a war such as the world never before witnessed; it was fought by such armies as never before were marshaled on the field. But the end has come. These great armies have returned covered with honor and laureled with renown. They are merged again in the business and activities of life; they have disappeared from view like the snow in springtime, or the dew of the morning in the {361}summer's sun; now and then the halting step upon the sidewalk, here and there an empty sleeve, remind us in our daily walks of the stern realities of war.

After war, peace!

Peace to the dead. Peace through their labors to the living. These “have fought their last fight,” the salvos of artillery which soon shall sound from the guns they loved so well shall not awake them. The grass shall grow green in springtime, the birds of summer shall sing their sweetest notes, the bright glories of autumn shall tint the foliage above them, and the white snow of winter shall lie unbroken on their graves, but these shall sleep on in peace.

Peace, white-robed and olive-crowned, has come to us who linger. Peace, with its cares and toils, peace, with its plenty and prosperity, peace, with its duties for to-day and its destinies for to-morrow. Let us welcome it and become worthy of it. Let there be in all our lives, thoughts, hopes, endeavors, such devotion to duty as called and sent these brave men to the battlefield and sustained them there; and then we may safely leave our future to the care of those who, coming after us, shall pause, amid the ruins time may make, to trace upon the marble in our cemeteries the names of the heroic dead.

God gives us peace! Not such as lulls to sleep,

But sword on thigh and brows with purpose knit.

And let our Ship of State to harbor sweep,

Her ports all up! Her battle lanterns lit!

And her leashed thunders gathered for their leap.

THE UNION SOLDIER.

ROBERT G. INGERSOLL.

|THE past rises before me like a dream. Again we are in the great struggle for national life. We hear the sounds of preparation, the music of the boisterous drum, the silver voices of heroic bugles. We see thousands of assemblages, and hear the appeals of orators; we see the pale cheeks of women and the {362}flushed faces of men; and in those assemblages we see all the dead whose dust we have covered with flowers. We lose sight of them no more. We are with them when they enlist in the great army of freedom. We see them part with those they love. Some are walking for the last time in quiet, woody places with the maidens they adore. We hear the whisperings and the sweet vows of eternal love as they lingeringly part forever. Others are bending over cradles, kissing babies that are asleep; some are receiving the blessings of old men; some are parting with mothers who hold them and press them to their hearts again and again, and say nothing, and some are talking with wives, and endeavoring with brave words spoken in the old tones to drive from their hearts the awful fear. We see them part. We see the wife standing in the door, with the babe in her arms--standing in the sunlight sobbing--at the turn of the road a hand waves--she answers by holding high in her loving hands the child. He is gone, and forever. We see them all as they march proudly away under the flaunting flags, keeping time to the wild, grand music of war, marching down the streets of the great cities, through the towns and across the prairies, down to the fields of glory, to do and to die for the eternal right. We go with them, one and all. We are by their side on all the gory fields, in the hospitals, on all the weary marches. We stand guard with them in the wild storm, and under the quiet stars. We are with them in ravines running with blood, in the furrows of old fields; we are with them between contesting hosts unable to move, wild with thirst, the life ebbing slowly away among the withered leaves. We see them pierced by balls and torn with shells in the trenches by forts, and in the whirlwind of the charge, where men become iron, with nerves of steel.

We are with them in the prisons of hatred and famine; but human speech can never tell what they endured. We are at home when the news comes that they are dead. We see the maiden in the shadow of her first sorrow. We see the silvered head of the old man bowed with the first grief.

The past rises before us, and we see four millions of human beings governed by the lash; we see them bound hand and foot; we hear the strokes of cruel whips; we see the hounds tracking women {363}through the tangled swamps; we see babes sold from the breasts of mothers. Cruelty unspeakable! Outrage infinite! Four million bodies in chains--four million souls in fetters. All the sacred relations of wife, mother, father and child trampled beneath the brutal feet of might. All this was done under our own beautiful banner of the free. The past rises before us; we hear the roar and shriek of the bursting shell; the broken fetters fall; these heroes died. We look--instead of slaves we see men, women and children. The wand of progress touches the auction block, the slave pen, the whipping post, and we see homes and firesides, and schoolhouses and books, and where all was want and crime and cruelty and fetters, we see the faces of the free. These heroes are dead; they died for liberty; they died for us; they are at rest; they sleep in the land they made free under the flag they rendered stainless, under the solemn pines, the sad hemlocks, the tearful willows and the embracing vines; they sleep beneath the shadows of the clouds, careless alike of sunshine or storm, each in the windowless palace of rest. Earth may run red with other wars, they are at peace. In the midst of battle they found the severity of death. I have one sentiment for the soldiers, living and dead--cheers for the living, and tears for the dead.

Our Noble, Heroic and Self-Sacrificing Women.

EMORY A. STORRS.

|BRIGHT and shying on our resplendent annals shall appear the names of those thousands of noble, heroic and self-sacrificing women, who organized and carried forward to triumphant success a colossal sanitary and charitable scheme, the like of which, in nobility of conception and perfectness of execution, the world had never before witnessed, and which carried all around the globe the fame and the name of the women of America.

From camp to camp, from battlefield to battlefield, through the long and toilsome march, by day and by night, these sacred charities followed, and the prayers of the devoted and the true were ceaselessly with you through all dangers.

Leagues {364}and leagues separated you from home, but the blessings there invoked upon you hovered over and around you, and sweetened your sleep like angels' visits.

While the boy soldier slept by his camp fire at night and dreaming of home, and what his valor would achieve for his country, uttered even in his dreams prayers for the loved ones who had made that home so dear to him, the mother dreaming of her son breathed at the same time prayers for his safety, and for the triumph of his cause. The prayers and blessings of mother and son, borne heavenward, met in the bosom of their common God and Father.

ANTIETAM.

|I'VE wandered to Antietam, John,

And stood where foe met foe

Upon the fields of Maryland

So many years ago.

The circling hills rise just the same

As they did on that day,

When you were fighting blue, old

boy,

And I was fighting gray.

The winding stream runs 'neath the

bridge

Where Burnside won his fame;

The locust trees upon the ridge

Beyond are there the same.

The birds were singing 'mid the

trees--

'Twas bullets on that day,

When you were fighting blue, old

boy,

And I was fighting gray.

I saw again the Dunker Church

That stood beside the wood,

Where Hooker made the famous

charge

That Hill so well withstood.

'Tis scarred and marred by war and

time,

As we are, John, to-day;

For you were fighting blue, old boy,

As I was fighting gray.

I stood beneath the signal tree

Where I that day was laid,

And 'twas your arms, old boy, that

brought

Me'to this friendly shade.

Tho' leaves are gone and limbs are

bare,

Its heart is true to-day

As your your's was then, tho' fighting blue,

To me, tho fighting gray.

I marked the spot where Mansfield

fell,

Where Richardson was slain,

With Stark and Douglas 'mid the

corn,

And Brant amid the grain.

The names are sacred to us, John;

They led us in the fray, [blue

When you were fighting Northern

And I the Southern gray.

I {365}thought of Burnside, Hooker, '

Meade,

Of Sedgwick, old and grave;

Of Stonewall Jackson, tried and true,

That tried the day to save.

I bared my head--they rest in peace--

Each one has passed away;

Death musters those who wore the

blue

With those who wore the gray.

The old Pry mansion rears its walls

Beside Antietam's stream,

And far away along the South

I saw the tombstones gleam.

They mark each place where “Little

Mac”

And Robert Lee that day

Made proud the South, tho' wearing

blue,

The North, tho' wearing gray.

Yes; John, it gave me joy to stand

Where we once fiercely fought.

The nation now is one again--

The lesson has been taught.

Sweet peace doth fair Antietam crown,

And we can say to-day [blue

We're friends, tho' one was fighting

And one was fighting gray.

THE SWORDS OF GRANT AND LEE.

“_Fame Hath Crowned with Laurel the Swords of Grant and Lee._”

ETHINKS to-night I catch a gleam of steel among the pines,

And yonder by the lilied stream repose the foemen's lines;

The ghostly guards who pace the ground a moment stop to see

If all is safe and still around the tents of Grant and Lee.

'Tis but a dream; no armies camp where once their bay'nets

shone;

And Hesper's calm and lovely lamp shines on the dead alone;

A cricket chirps on yonder rise beneath a cedar tree

Where glinted 'neath the summer skies the swords of Grant and Lee.

Forever sheathed those famous blades that led the eager van!

They shine no more among the glades that fringe the Rapidan;

To-day their battle work is done, go draw them forth and see

That not a stain appears upon the swords of Grant and Lee.

The gallant men who saw them flash in comradeship to-day

Recall the wild, impetuous dash of val'rous blue and gray;

And 'neath the flag that proudly waves above a Nation free,

They oft recall the missing braves who fought with Grant and Lee.

They sleep among the tender grass, they slumber 'neath the pines,

They're camping in the mountain pass where crouched the serried lines;

They {366}rest where loud the tempests blow, destructive in their
glee--

The men who followed long ago the swords of Grant and Lee.

Their graves are lying side by side where once they met as foes,

And where they in the wildwood died springs up a blood-red rose;

O'er them the bee on golden wing doth flit, and in yon tree

A gentle robin seems to sing to them of Grant and Lee.

To-day no strifes of sections rise, to-day no shadows fall

Upon our land, and 'neath the skies one flag waves over all;

The Blue and Gray as comrades stand, as comrades bend the knee,

And ask God's blessings on the land that gave us Grant and Lee.

So long as southward, wide and clear, Potomac's river runs,

Their deeds will live because they were Columbia's hero sons;

So long as bend the Northern pines, and blooms the orange tree,

The swords will shine that led the lines of valiant Grant and Lee.

Methinks I hear a bugle blow, methinks I hear a drum;

And there, with martial step and slow, two ghostly armies come;

They are the men who met as foes, for 'tis the dead I see,

And side by side in peace repose the swords of Grant and Lee.

Above them let Old Glory wave, and let each deathless star

Forever shine upon the brave who lead the ranks of war;

Their fame resounds from coast to coast, from mountain top to sea

No other land than ours can boast the swords of Grant and Lee!

WAR WITH SPAIN.

NLY {367}those who know the power of peace can realize the dread of war. For four centuries Spain has borne down upon her colonies, with a heavy hand. The brightest of them, Cuba, “the Pearl of the Antilles,” has been the victim of two cruel and merciless wars at her hands, waged with relentless barbarity. We could not, as a Christian nation, help protesting against her inhumanity to a people whose home was so near our shores.

For thirty years the sounds of war had been silent in our domain, but justice demanded that we interfere in behalf of a people who are struggling against oppression, and in the noble cause of humanity. Spain's cruelty and Spain's greed are matters of history.

THE MAINE DISASTER.

|On the 25th of January the Maine, an American battleship, entered the harbor of Havana, Cuba, and anchored in her waters at a spot indicated by the harbor-master. The usual exchange of salutes and formal visits expected between two powers, took place, and there was no apparent unfriendliness shown. Just three weeks from that day, in the evening of the 15th of February, an explosion took place, which tore the boat to atoms, killing 266 of her crew and two officers. At once treachery was suspected, {368}but the American people was asked to suspend its judgment until the long and searching investigation which was conducted by the naval board of inquiry was ended, when every evidence was produced proving that the awful calamity was due wholly to Spanish treachery.

This led to a severing of all diplomatic relations, which was ended by the Spanish minister's request for his passport. Spain declared war upon the United States on April 24, 1898, and it took the House of Representatives one minute and forty-one seconds to pass a declaration of war in reply to Spain, and the Senate acted with equal promptness.

Events of such vast importance have rarely followed each other with such rapidity as have those of our late war with Spain. In less than three months a nation which deemed itself invincible, threw down the gauntlet which was as speedily picked up, and engagements and battles trod almost upon each other's heels, until its boast was proved a vain one, and victory was ours.

Our people were ready to accept the challenge. From North and South came the glad response. Once more the blue and the gray fought side by side, as brothers.

THE FIRST GUN FIRED.

|Our history would be incomplete if I did not tell my young readers who fired the first shot in our war with Spain. The United States cruiser, Nashville, of the North Atlantic squadron at Key West, can lay proud claim to that honor.

It was a clear and beautiful morning in April when the American fleet left Key West, and proceeding southward across the straits of Florida, first saw the city of Havana and the battlements of the famous Morro Castle, on the afternoon of the same day. The fleet presented a gallant sight, and when at three in the morning Admiral Sampson's flagship, the New York, flashed forth her signal lights, the answering signals were given from all the ships of the fleet, black smoke began to pour from the smokestacks, and the crews needed no further hint that they had work before them. {369}

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These volunteers in company with the Sixteenth and Sixth Regiments were ordered to “charge the Block House'” and up the hill they charged with military precision.

After {372}the Nashville returned to Key West, the rest of the squadron proceeded to the Cuban coast. Coming within fifteen miles of Morro Castle, the fleet scattered so as to form a complete blockade of the port. Every day brought new prizes to our squadron, and the blockade of Havana proved effectual.

It is well to call the attention of the boys to a few of the changes in phraseology between the old sea terms and the new. Once in the English navy (and ours was modeled after it) the term admiral was unknown--the word constable or justice was used. So with the title of captain, which is in reality a military one. In the earlier times this personage was called a master. The term commodore we have borrowed from that very nation with whom we have just measured arms--the Spanish, and comes from their word _comendador_. Cadets were not known by that name, but were called volunteers. Another item which furnishes food for reflection, is the origin of the United States navy. On October 13, 1775, the continental congress voted to fit out two vessels, one to carry ten guns, the other fourteen, for the purpose of taking English supply vessels. The same month it added two more vessels to its extensive equipment. On March 27, 1794, after our troubles with the Algerine pirates, six frigates were ordered, each to carry thirty-two guns. Congress appropriated $700,000 for the purpose of organizing a navy. Compare this feeble beginning with our splendid navy of to-day.

It is proper to explain here what the practice of nations is with regard to prize money. It is a strict rule of war that neutral powers must not interfere nor give help to either party that is engaged in a war. To furnish ships, ammunition, or supplies is a grave offence, and all such goods are termed “contraband of war.” {373}

Any boat at sea suspected of carrying “contraband” articles can be searched, but properly commissioned vessels only can perform this duty. Another thing which will subject a vessel to being seized or confiscated is an attempt at blockade running, or trying to pass the line established by the war vessels stationed in an entrance to a harbor or along the coast. These are {374}rules of war common to all nations, and must be rigidly observed.

All neutral governments are notified that such blockade exists, and exactly how far it extends. But “paper blockades,” or the mere declaration that a blockade is in force, are of no account. At the treaty of Paris, in 1856, the powers declared that “blockades, in order to be binding, must be effective,” or in plainer words, a force must actually be stationed on the blockaded ground strong enough to make it dangerous to attempt to pass it.

“Prize money” sounds very tempting, and its meaning will be given. When a war is in progress properly commissioned ships are empowered to capture not only the armed vessels of the enemy, but its merchantmen as well. These vessels are taken to the country of their captors, the courts pass judgment upon their value, and if it is proven to be a lawful prize, it is sold, and the proceeds is called “prize money,” and is awarded to the captors, the officers and crew, in proportion to their rank.

The prize money adjudged to them is thus given out in the following manner:

“1. The commander of a fleet or squadron, one-twentieth part prize money awarded to any vessel or vessels under his immediate command.

“2. To the commander of a division of a fleet or squadron, a sum equal to one-fiftieth of any prize money awarded to a vessel of the division under his command, to be paid from the moiety due the United States, if there be such moiety; if not, from the amount awarded the captors.

“3. To the fleet captain, one-hundredth part of all prize money awarded to any vessel of the fleet in which he is serving, in which case he shall share in proportion to his pay, with the other officers and men on board such vessel.

“4. To the commander of a single vessel, one-tenth of all the prize money awarded to the vessel. {375}

“5. After the foregoing deductions, the residue is distributed among the others doing duty on board, and borne upon the {376}books of the ship, in proportion to their respective rates of pay.

“All vessels of the navy within signal distance of the vessel making the capture, and in such condition as to be able to render, effective aid if required, will share, in the prize. Any person temporarily absent from his vessel may share in the captures made during his absence. The prize court determines what vessel shall share in a prize, and also whether a prize was superior or inferior to the vessel or vessels making the capture.

“The share of prize money awarded to the United States is set apart forever as a fund for the payment of pensions to naval officers, seamen and marines entitled to pensions.”

On April 27 our forces bombarded the important city of Matanzas, a rich and flourishing point, the outlet of the agricultural districts. April 29 the city of Cienfuegos yielded to our shells, and on the 30th of April the frowning batteries of Cabanas were attacked.

DEWEY'S VICTORY AT MANILA.

|The first great naval battle of the war took place on the 1st of May. Those whose opinion was considered valuable, declared that on this battle depended the result of the war--some even prophesying that a victory here would practically end it.

Another matter which engrossed the attention of the governments abroad, was the fact that this encounter would serve as a test of the merits of the modern fighting machine. Should it prove all that was claimed for it, then in truth, a new departure in naval warfare had come.

The eyes of the world were upon the fleet, which, under the command of Commodore George Dewey, was hastening toward Manila, the capital of the Philippines. Just after daylight, Sunday morning of May 1, Manila time, 6 p.m. Saturday, Chicago time, the Olympia opened fire, when two miles away from the enemy. As she drew nearer, she trained every battery upon the Spanish fleet, with deadly effect. When the battle was almost decided, the Reina Christina came out to engage our flagship. {377}

She {378}advanced with great bravery, but to no purpose. The big guns on the Olympia struck her fore and aft, totally wrecking her and setting fire to her magazine. The Spanish Admiral, Montejo, was standing on the bridge of his boat, when it was shot from under him. The Spanish sailors escaped into their boats, fleeing from the burning ship. Montejo carried his pennant to the Castilla, but five minutes after that ship was set on fire by the shells.

After two hours' hard fighting, a rest was taken, when the attack was renewed, and at the expiration of a half hour the long-dreaded and much-boasted of Spanish fleet was a name only--nothing was left to tell the tale of her greatness save the transport Manila.

This battle was fought off Cavite, ten miles to the southwest of Manila. The Spanish fleet, of which so much was predicted by Spain, and which met with such a crushing defeat, consisted of the following vessels: Reina Mercedes, cruiser; Reina Christina, cruiser; Isla de Cuba, cruiser; Isla de Luzon, cruiser; Castilla, cruiser; Don Antonio De Ulloa, cruiser; Don Juan de Austria, cruiser; Velasco, cruiser; Elcano, gunboat; General Lezo, gunboat; Marquis del Duero, gunboat; Quiros, gunboat; Villalobos, torpedo gunboat; General Alava, transport; Cebu, transport; Manila, transport; Isla de Mindanao, converted cruiser.

The United States fleet was composed of the Olympia, (flagship), first-class cruiser, Captain C. N. Gridley; Baltimore, protected cruiser, Captain N. M. Dyer; Boston, protected cruiser, Captain Frank Wildes; Raleigh, protected cruiser, Captain J. B. Coghlan; Concord, gunboat, Commander Asa Walker; Petrel, gunboat, Commander E. P. Wood; McCulloch, dispatch boat; Nanshan, collier; Zafiro, collier. The magnificent victory of the American Admiral has made his name famous. His achievement is unparalleled in naval annals, and entitles him to the proud rank of being the greatest of fleet commanders, a worthy pupil of his invincible teacher, David G. Farragut. {379}

The gratitude and admiration of the nation are his. President {380}McKinley, as a fitting acknowledgment of his splendid deed, at once appointed him Rear Admiral in the United States Navy, with access of pay.

When the Stars and Stripes were hoisted over the Philippine capital, the rejoicings at home were unbounded. But when the news reached Spain, it produced a contrary effect; the indignation of that power was profound. An uprising of the people was feared, and the governors of all provinces were ordered to place them under martial law at the first serious outbreak. The cable at Manila was cut by orders of Admiral Dewey, and thus the court at Madrid was kept in uncertainty as to what was actually transpiring.

The victory so bravely won was but the predecessor of others which gave every true American a thrill of pride. Admiral Sampson, commander of the North Atlantic squadron, arrived at San Juan de Puerto Rico on the 12th of May, making an early call, as he commenced operations before sunrise, bombarding the fortifications. The first shot was fired from the Iowa, captained by Bob Evans (“Fighting Bob”), and it was followed by the Indiana.

From the halyards of the flagship New York the signal flashed forth--“Remember the Maine!” The big guns pealed forth seven shots, and the works felt their force. Fort Morro was left full of gaps, where the shells had struck it, and torn away the masonry. The frightened populace fled to the interior, beyond the range of the guns. Word had been sent ahead by the commander of the American squadron that the works were to be attacked, thus giving the non-combatants a chance to seek safety. {381}

The first blood on our side was shed at Cardenas, May 12. After a short encounter of thirty-five minutes between the torpedo boat Winslow, the tug Hudson and the gunboat Wilmington on the American side, and the batteries at Cardenas and four Spanish gunboats, our arms were again victorious. Five Americans fell in this engagement. Ensign Worth Bagley of the Winslow, a brave North Carolinian, was the first officer to yield up {382}his life. It is stated that even after the Winslow's starboard engine and steering gear were useless, the crew kept hurling shot at the Spaniards on shore, until she was totally disabled.

On the next day, May 13, the Flying Squadron left Hampton Roads, and made Key West on the 18th. Santiago was the intended point of attack, and on the 18th also Admiral Sampson thought it time to turn his attention to that place. The second squadron sent out by Spain, under Cervera, lay at that time in the harbor of Santiago, in fancied security.

ROOSEVELT'S ROUGH RIDERS.

|On Friday, June 24, a desperate engagement took place between four troops of the First Cavalry, four of the Tenth and eight of Roosevelt's “Rough Riders,” who attacked a force of 2,000 Spanish soldiers, twice their number, and sixteen men were killed, among whom were Captain Allyn M. Capron and Hamilton Fish, Jr., belonging to the Rough Riders.

The Rough Riders followed the trail over steep hills that towered many hundred feet high. The weather was intensely warm, and each man carried 200 rounds of ammunition and his heavy camp equipment. On they toiled up the narrow path, often so narrow that they could only go in single file, while the sharp thorns of the prickly cactus tore and scratched them as they passed through the thick underbrush.

As the day grew hotter they threw away blankets and tent rolls, and even emptied their canteens. Soon they heard a call like a cuckoo. Every man was on the alert. They knew now that Spaniards were near, for that was their cry. A charge was ordered, and they dashed into the thicket. The rush was so sudden and bold that a panic ensued among the Spanish soldiers, and after fighting about an hour, they fled, firing as they ran, leaving fifty dead upon the field. {383}

The crack of the Mauser rifles was heard, and the leaves flew from the trees and chips from the fence post were showered over the heads of the Rough Riders. The fire was a heavy one. Sergeant Fish was the first man to fall on our side--shot through the {384}heart. Although the enemy was but 200 yards away, yet they were so securely hidden in the brush that only a glimpse of them now and then could be seen. Colonel Wood showed remarkable coolness, walking along the lines as he gave orders. Lieutenant Roosevelt rushed into the thicket cheering his men on, who were as anxious as he to reach the hidden foe. Captain Capron held his revolver in hand, and sent several of the Spaniards to the ground. Suddenly his weapon dropped from his hands and he fell, shot through the body. With his dying breath he cried--“Don't mind me, boys, go on and fight.” After fifteen minutes more, of hot fighting Lieutenant Roosevelt ordered his men back, and just missed a bullet which buried itself in a tree alongside his head. The Spaniards fell back, and ran down one hill and up another to the blockhouse, it was supposed with the intention of making a stand there. Instantly the Americans followed them closely, and poured a storm of bullets into the blockhouse; the Spaniards fled in haste, and the battle was over. This was the first battle which the Rough Riders had taken part in, and they proved their valor and bravery in a brilliant manner.

HOBSON MADE FAMOUS.

|One of the most brilliant exhibitions of pure, unselfish courage ever exhibited was the act of Lieutenant Richmond P. Hobson. That officer, who was assistant naval constructor, had succeeded in convincing Admiral Sampson that there was but one way to prevent Admiral Cervera's escape. His daring scheme gave the fleet of the Spanish admiral its death blow. Under the direction of Admiral Sampson he volunteered to take the collier Merrimac into the channel leading into the harbor, and sink it, so as to prevent his escape with his ships; In other words, he literally “bottled” the unlucky Admiral up. {385}

He needed but six men to help him accomplish his purpose. Admiral Sampson explained to the brave sailors that it was a desperate mission, that death was almost certain, and yet when only six volunteers were asked for, over 1,000 responded, anxious, glad {386}to be of service to the cause. Tears filled their eyes as they begged for the honor of going with the brave commander who had been chosen for the perilous undertaking, and dying, if need be. It was a gallant deed, and as the Merrimac steamed into the channel, a furious cannonading from the Spanish forts greeted their coming, but on they went into the “very jaws of death,” and amid shot and shell Lieutenant Hobson went to the point indicated by Admiral Sampson, anchored, and swung across the channel. Then a hole was blown in the ship's bottom, and a dash was made for a boat. They were loudly cheered by the Spaniards, who were lost in admiration of their heroism, and Cervera himself, although he took them prisoners, sent a flag of truce to Admiral Sampson, by his chief of staff, Captain Oviedo, in honor of their bravery, offering to exchange them without delay for Spanish prisoners in the hands of the United States.

The names of the gallant men who offered their lives so freely were--Daniel Montague, George Charette, J. E. Murphy, Oscar Deignan, John P. Phillips, and John Kelly.

After being kept prisoners from June 2 until July 6, Lieutenant Hobson and the six men who were made prisoners with him, were surrendered by the Spanish military authorities in exchange for prisoners which we held. Captain Chadwick, of the New York, escorted them through our lines. The soldiers were wild with joy, and paid no attention to discipline or order, so anxious were they to see the heroes of the Merrimac, whom they wildly cheered. Lieutenant Hobson talked very little about his experiences, but said the Spanish authorities had treated them well, and their health was excellent.

The bombardment of Santiago's forts was vigorously kept up. On the 22d and 23d General Shafter landed at Baiquiri, and moved toward Santiago. He attacked the Spanish outposts July 1, and a fierce fight raged all day. He demanded the surrender of the latter place. General Lawton carried the heights of San Juan, after a determined charge.

DESTRUCTION OF CERVERA'S FLEET.

|Another {387}notable victory, and one of the greatest naval battles ever recorded, was the total destruction of Cervera's proud fleet, which was accomplished by Commodore Schley, on the 3d of July. The American fleet's commander, Sampson, was absent conferring with General Shafter regarding future movements. Meantime the government at Madrid realized that the city must fall sooner or later, and it had ordered Cervera to make one bold dash out of the harbor. This he attempted to do, but was received so warmly by Schley that in two hours the “invincible” fleet of the Spanish admiral was a series of wrecks, strewn along the beach for fifty miles, with a loss of 600 killed, and 1,100 prisoners taken by our forces, among whom was Cervera himself. The attempted escape was made with great courage on the part of the Spaniards, who fought to the last, and when hope was gone, threw themselves upon the mercy of their captors, who accorded them protection from the Cuban insurgents who had watched the battle in all its terrible earnestness.

SURRENDER OF SANTIAGO.

|Santiago had not yet yielded, however, and on the 10th of July bombardment of that town was resumed.

The 14th of July saw the long-expected surrender of Santiago to General Shafter, and at 12 o'clock noon, the glorious Stars and Stripes were hoisted over the Governor's palace, and we held the situation. The American general rode into the city escorted by the Second Cavalry. The people were very quiet, many of them even showing satisfaction at the event. Courtesies were exchanged between the Spanish and American officers, and General Shafter returned to General Toral his sword. The Spanish flag was displaced by the American--the eternal symbol of liberty.

On the 26th of July the Spanish government made overtures for peace, through the French ambassador, M. Cambon, who called on our President and by proper authority stated that Spain {388}was willing to treat with the United States, and would like to consider terms. After discussing the proposal with the Cabinet, President McKinley notified the French ambassador of his ultimatum. The terms of the protocol were these:

“1. That Spain will relinquish all claims of sovereignty over or title to Cuba.

“2. That Puerto Rico and other Spanish islands in the West Indies, and an island in the Ladrones, to be selected by the United States, shall be ceded to the latter.

“3. That the United States will occupy and hold the city, bay, and harbor of Manila pending the conclusion of a treaty of peace which shall determine the control, disposition and government of the Philippines.

“4. That Cuba, Puerto Rico, and other Spanish islands in the West Indies shall be immediately evacuated, and that commissioners to be appointed within ten days shall, within thirty days from the signing of the protocol, meet at Havana and San Juan, respectively, to arrange and execute the details of the evacuation.

“5. That the United States and Spain will each appoint not more than five commissioners to negotiate and conclude a treaty of peace. The commissioners are to meet at Paris not later than the 1st of October.

“6. On the signing of the protocol hostilities will be suspended, and notice to that effect will be given as soon as possible by each government to the commanders of its military and naval forces.”