Chapter VIII: Part 8

In the latter part of June a body of United States troops landed and took possession of Cavité; and in July Aguinaldo proclaimed himself President of the Revolutionary Republic.

Sketch of Aguinaldo.

General Emilio Aguinaldo y Famy is a little more than thirty years of age. He was born in Imus, a village near Cavité. His father was a planter, and the son was sent first to the College of St. Jean de Lateran, then to the University of St. Tomas in Manila. The youth's education cost his father much privation, for the cost of pursuing a course of study at these institutions is not less than 1200 francs a year, and the elder Aguinaldo had great difficulty to make both ends meet.

At St. Jean de Lateran the student is drilled in Spanish and Latin and the classics; and when he is able to translate the masterpieces of Rome with facility, he is ready for the University of St. Tomas. This, like the College, is under the Dominicans. In the University, the principal studies are physics, metaphysics, theology, jurisprudence, law, and medicine.

Aguinaldo was adjudged a very dull student, and gave no promise of distinction. In fact, the Dominicans finally sent him home in sheer despair. Aguinaldo then entered the Normal school of the Jesuits. Here he made some progress; but at this time his father died, when the youth was forced to return home to take care of his patrimony, which was threatened by the lawsuits instituted by the order of the Recollectos--an organization composed of the greatest land-proprietors of the colony. It was in 1893 that Dr. Rizal created the Philippine League, the object of which was to unite politically the various parts of the Archipelago.

Rizal was banished, but shortly afterward the order of the Katipunan was formed, which soon had more than 250,000 members. The object of this society was co-operation for the protection of the colonists.

The Government then fearing an alliance of this society with the Freemasons and the various secret orders hostile to Spanish rule, began to take active measures against it. Aguinaldo was suspected of being one of the leaders. A Spanish officer, with a squad of native soldiers, came to arrest him. Aguinaldo, when confronted by the officer, promptly shot him, then eloquently appealed to his companions to leave the service of their foreign oppressors and strike a blow for liberty.

The soldiers received his words with acclaim, and instantly chose him as their leader. He then sought the fastnesses of the forest, where he was soon joined by thousands of his countrymen--all flaming to join the standard of revolt.

Aguinaldo is short of stature, with a well-knit figure. He has the Japanese cast of face, and wears a black pompadour, which heightens that impression. His countenance is imperturbable; it is notable for its serious expression. During the rebellion he was in hourly fear of assassination. For, a reward of $25,000 had been offered by the Spaniards for his head; and this prize had brought into his camp a host of mercenaries, that were only seeking a convenient opportunity to gain the coveted reward.

Aguinaldo's headquarters were in the former home of a rich native in Cavité. With him were his staff and his mother and several of his relatives. These he kept with him to secure them from Spanish vengeance.

The house is described as broad, low, and roomy. In front is a paved court; on each side a trusted number of stalwart insurgents constantly kept guard. The uniform of these soldiers was a cheap native homespun; their arms were of the crudest description; but they made up in loyalty what they lacked in training.

The General himself usually wore a spotless suit of white linen, a white shirt, with a well-polished front, a high collar and a black necktie. He wore red velvet slippers, embroidered in gold. In his office was a modern desk,--piled high with documents,--a large mirror, two large, strong, iron boxes,--which served as a safe for the moneys of the insurgent government,--and a grand piano of Spanish make. Against a hat-rack leaned the rebel standard, and on the wall hung a map of the province. This the General used to scan eagerly, tracing the movements and the disposition of his troops.

Aguinaldo was usually surrounded by various members of his staff, none of whom, however, was as impressive as himself. I believe Aguinaldo to be sincere and patriotic. He is courageous, and has surely proved himself an able general.

He has unbounded influence with his countrymen, and while, as stated, $25,000 was offered for his head, no one betrayed him or attempted to make an assault upon his life.

He is bravery personified, and inasmuch as the Filipinos admire this above all other attributes, Aguinaldo is always at the head. He is a born leader, and has just enough tact to adopt expediencies and make compromises, yet not seem to do so.

And in so doing he, nevertheless, rarely appears to infringe upon his own original plans.

In everything he takes the initiative; in no event does he consult any one. He brooks no opposition; he has had no rivals in reality: there have been one or two would-be-ones, but they could not withstand him. He is perhaps not always scrupulous as to the attainment of his ends, yet his proclamations are wise and moderate, his conduct all one would desire in even a European dictator. Moreover, few have shown themselves so modest and so merciful.

There is a tremendous magnetism about the man, and whenever he addresses his troops, he holds them with a grip that would be spellbound but for the rapt attention and for the devotion that is vociferously manifested.

The natives, too, seem to be unable, as well as unwilling, to get away from his power; and, to all appearances, he is to the islanders the man of the hour.

Of course I do not agree with him in everything he does, but, knowing his sincerity, and believing that he makes his spectacular display merely to impress the natives, and so hold their allegiance, I therefore admire him and hope that the Americans will co-operate with him to give us a stable Philippine Government.

At all events, the man's strong personality, and his large following, cannot, I believe, well be ignored by the American Government.

DEWEY AT MANILA.

The White Squadron.

It was the 19th of April. An American fleet lay in the harbor of Hong-Kong, where it had been anchored for nearly a month, impatiently awaiting the command that should send it to battle.

There was feverish expectation of war, and bustle of preparation, and Commodore Dewey nervously walked the deck; for, every moment the longed-for order was expected.

It was the 19th of April, and the White Squadron lay gleaming in the sunlight,--and yet by the night of the 20th the White Squadron was no more; for she had exchanged the snowy garb of peace for the sombre gray of war. The ships' painters had, in this short time, given the entire fleet a significant coating of drab.

The English steamer Nanshan, with over three thousand tons of Cardiff coal, and the Steamer Zafiro, of the Manila-Hong-Kong line, carrying 7,000 tons of coal and provisions, had just been bought by the Commodore, in anticipation of a declaration of neutrality, which would preclude such purchases, and thus two more vessels were added to the fleet, Lieutenant Hutchins being made commander of the Nanshan, and Ensign Pierson of the Zafiro. The Zafiro was then made a magazine for the spare ammunition of the fleet.

Hong-Kong, for strategic reasons, had been chosen as a place of rendezvous for the Asiatic Squadron.

Declaration of War, and Journey to the Philippines.

On April 25th war was declared between the United States and Spain, and, at the request of the acting-Governor of Hong-Kong, the American fleet steamed away to Mirs Bay, about thirty miles from Hong-Kong. On April 26th the revenue cutter McCulloch, which had been left at Hong-Kong, brought the desired message. It read as follows:

Washington, April 26th.

Dewey, Asiatic Squadron: Commence operations at once, particularly
against the Spanish fleet. You must capture or destroy them.

McKinley.

"Thank God!" said the Commodore. "At last we've got what we want. We'll blow them off the Pacific Ocean."

And now the fleet was headed direct for Manila, a distance of 628 miles; and, with hearts beating high with hope, the sailors cheered lustily for Old Glory and the Navy Blue.

In the squadron were the following vessels: Olympia, flagship, Captain C. V. Gridley, commanding; Boston, Captain Frank Wildes; Concord, Commander Asa Walker, and the Petrel, Commander E. P. Wood. The Raleigh, Captain J. B. Coughlan, commanding, and the Baltimore, commanded by Captain N. M. Dyer, also joined the squadron.

All these vessels were cruisers. The single armored ship in the squadron was the Olympia; and the armor--four inches thick--was around the turret guns.

In making the journey to the Philippines a speed of only eight knots was maintained; for the transport ships could not make fast headway against the rolling sea.

During this run, gun-drills and other exercises kept the men busy, and every minute was employed in earnest preparation for what all knew was to come.

Luzon Sighted, and Preparations for Battle.

It was on Saturday morning, April the 30th, that Luzon was sighted, and final preparations for the battle were immediately made. Impedimenta of all kinds were thrown overboard,--chairs, tables, chests and boxes,--and the ships were stripped and made ready for action. It was intensely warm, and the most ordinary evolutions proved exhausting.

The Boston, the Concord, and the Baltimore were now sent ahead to discover whether the Spanish fleet was anywhere around.

After looking in at Bolinao Bay, these three vessels cautiously approached Subig Bay, about 30 miles from Manila. However, only a few small trading-vessels were here discovered, though it had been reported that the enemy intended to give the Americans battle there.

When the scouting ships reported that the enemy was nowhere in sight, the Commodore replied: "All right, we shall meet them in Manila Bay." A war-council was then held on the Olympia, and the American commander told his officers that he intended to enter Manila Bay that very night.

The squadron then slowly proceeded in the direction of Manila. It was a sultry evening, and the yellow moon paved the waves with a pathway of gold, that seemed like a glorious avenue to victory.

Fearing that they might come upon the enemy at any moment, the men were posted at their guns, and, with the greatest quietness, the fleet steamed stealthily forward. The lights on all the ships were put out, save the one at the stern, and so the squadron slipped into the bay, each moment dreading a challenge from the strongly-fortified batteries that the Americans had been taught to believe were located at every point along the entrance.

The speed was now increased to eight knots; for the Commodore wished to be as far inside as possible before his presence was discovered.

Through the dangerous channels, mined with death-hurling torpedoes, swept the silent squadron, grim and spectre-like. Well did the Americans know the dangers of this undertaking; and few there were that did not momentarily expect some exploding mine to hurl them into eternity.

Then Corregidor Island, with its lofty lighthouse, came within view, and the ships swept into the chief channel, known as the Boca Grande.

The Commodore, having so far failed to discover the presence of the enemy, naturally concluded that the Spanish fleet was lying at Cavité, where it would have the advantage of the protection of the forts and the shore-batteries.

The Fleet Sails by Corregidor.

And thus, with a full appreciation of the thousand and one dangers, known and unknown, that beset his path, Dewey kept straight by Corregidor.

It was eleven o'clock, and the men of the fleet, which was now almost past the island, were congratulating themselves that they were undiscovered when a solitary rocket soared over the lofty lighthouse; there was an answering light from the shore, and every moment the Americans expected the boom of the Spanish guns, long primed with a deadly welcome for the "Yankee pigs."

The narrowest part of the inlet had been passed, and still no sign that the entering fleet had been discovered. Impressive, indeed, was that long line of gloomy hulls, steering for battle, and courting destruction. The Olympia, the Baltimore, the Raleigh, the Petrel, the Concord, and the Boston, with the two transports the Nanshan and the Zapiro, convoyed by the McCulloch, on the flag-ship's port quarter--all kept on in the same straight course, while the men on board were partaking of light refreshment. For all felt that a great day's work was before them.

But where are the enemy? was the thought uppermost in every mind. For to the Americans themselves it seemed that they were surely making enough noise to be heard by the sentries on the shore. Doubtless they were asleep, dreaming a Spanish dream of mañana.

It was shortly past eleven o'clock, when from the smokestack of the convoy McCulloch flew a shower of sparks. A fireman had thrown open the furnace-doors and shoveled in a few pounds of soft coal.

This was evidently seen by some one on shore, for it was just fourteen minutes past eleven when a bugle sounded an alarm, and from the west came a blinding glare, a shrill whistle overhead, and the heavy boom of a cannon.

First Shot of the War.

It was the first shot of the war, and it was fired with characteristic Spanish inaccuracy.

Again the battery thundered; and then a third time, before there was a reply from the American fleet. The Raleigh, which was the third vessel in the line, was the first to speak for the American side, and then the Boston followed, with stentorian roar, and the battle was on. Again the battery sent its deadly missive over the fleet, and this time the Concord, taking its aim by the flash, responded by throwing a six-inch shell into the Spanish fort. A crash and a cry and all was still. It was learned afterward that considerable damage was done by this wonderfully accurate shot, several of the Spanish gunners being killed.

The Boston and the McCulloch fired another round or two; but the forts had evidently had enough of it: they were no longer heard from.

Meanwhile, the squadron continued its course, though its speed was reduced to about three knots an hour, the Commodore not wishing to arrive at Manila before dawn.

A gray darkness hung over the harbor as the gray procession glided noiselessly in. Had a Spanish scout been on the lookout, it would scarcely have been possible for him to have distinguished his approaching enemy. A strict lookout was kept for the Spanish ships and for the dreaded torpedo boats, while most of the men lay down by their guns to get a little sleep. But with the terrible fate of the Maine vivid in their memories, the more imaginative ones conjured up a shuddering sense of insecurity in a harbor supposed to be literally planted with destructive mines.

The Spanish Fleet is Sighted.

This invisible foe--and not the longed-for and expected combat with the enemy's fleet--was feared by the brave Americans, and when the morning sun, in all his tropical splendor, rose right before the Americans, under the guns of Cavité lay the Spanish fleet. The Americans were at last face to face with the enemy.

The commander-in-chief of the Spanish squadron was Rear-Admiral Patricio Montojo y Pasaron; the second in command was the Commandante General Enrique Sostoa y Ordennez.

Under Admiral Montojo's command were the following vessels:

Reina Cristina, flagship, armored cruiser, Captain L. Cadarso commanding, 3,500 tons; battery six 6.2-inch; two 2.7-inch; six 6-pounders; and six 3-pounder rapid-fire guns; speed, 17.5 knots; crew 400 officers and men.

Castilla, Captain A. M. de Oliva, commanding; 3,334 tons; battery, four 5.9-inch; two 4.7-inch; two 3.3-inch; four 2.9-inch, and eight 6-pounder rapid-fire guns; speed, 14 knots; crew, 300.

Isla de Cuba, Captain J. Sidrach, and Isla de Luzon, Captain J. de la Herian; 1,030 tons each; battery, four 4.7 inch; four 6-pounder and two 3-pounder rapid-fire guns; speed, 14 knots; crew, 200 men each.

General Lezo, Commander R. Benevento, and Marques del Duero, Commander S. Morena Guerra; the former was 524, the latter 500 tons; batteries, two 4.7 inch; one 3.5 inch, and two 3-pounder rapid-fire guns; speed, 11 knots; crew, 100.

Altogether the Americans had four cruisers, two gunboats, one cutter, fifty-seven classified big guns, seventy-four rapid-firing guns and machine guns, and 1808 men.

On the other side were seven cruisers, five gunboats, two torpedo boats, fifty-two classified big guns, eighty-three rapid-firing and machine guns, and 1,948 men.

It will thus be seen that the Americans had a few more heavy guns; but the Spanish had several more ships and over a hundred more men. They were also assisted by the powerful land-batteries, and by the knowledge of the exact distance of the American ships. For the latter had no range-marks with which to determine the proper elevation to be given to their sights. In the American squadron, moreover, was not a single armored cruiser; besides, the Spaniards were at their base of supplies, while Commodore Dewey was more than six thousand miles away from all aid.

Such were the numbers and the disposition of the combatants now about to fight.

Dewey Attacks the Enemy.

With Old Glory flying at every masthead, and with the beating of drums, the American squadron, after a brief reconnoitering detour in the harbor, sailed in a straight line past the fleet of the enemy. Each ship was to hold its fire until near enough to inflict the most damage, when as many shots should be fired as possible. Then to steam as quickly as possible out of effective range; to wheel and return--keeping close to the opposite shore--to the original point of starting, when the same manoeuvre was to be repeated--and so again and again till the enemy was destroyed or defeated.

On the Spanish fleet, too, all was bustle and preparation; the national flag, that symbol of mediæval tyranny, floated from every masthead, the Admiral's flag on the Reina Cristina being the cynosure of all eyes.

The Americans had left their supply-ships behind, and their fleet, according to pre-arranged plan, steamed slowly past the enemy. Meanwhile, the batteries of Cavité kept up an incessant roar, and now Montojo's flagship thundered a deadly welcome; while over the American flagship was hoisted a code-flag, with the watchword "Remember the Maine!" This was the signal for a concerted yell from the sailors in the fleet. And thus with colors flying, and with fire reserved till a closer range should make it more effective, the Commodore and his brave officers bore down toward the Spaniards, who were awaiting their approach with curiosity not unmixed with alarm, at the same time they sent a thunderous fusillade as a greeting to the hated Yankees.

But the Americans, undeterred, grimly kept their course, notwithstanding one or two mines exploded beneath the water,--one near the Raleigh and one beside the Baltimore. Again and again the Spanish guns thundered, until the roar became incessant and shells were bursting all around.

When about six thousand yards the Commodore shouted to Captain Gridley, who was in the conning tower: "Fire, as soon as you get ready, Gridley."

Hardly had he given the word--which also was passed down the line--when the whole ship shivered, and the eight-inch gun in the front turret burst into a sheet of flame, while a dull muffled roar belched forth, that awoke the apparent torpor of the whole fleet to instant activity.

The Baltimore and the Boston now took up the cue, and sent their tremendous shells crashing into the enemy, who replied vociferously. The din was deafening, and over and around all the American ships was the shriek and scream of terrifying shells. Some of these fell upon the decks, some smashed into the woodwork; but--as if providentially--not an American was hit.

"Open with all the guns," signaled the Commodore; and all the ships joined together in a roaring chorus, as if Cerberus and all the dogs of hell had opened their mighty throats.

And thus with incessant firing, the battle-line passed the whole length of the stationary Spanish fleet, then slowly swang round and began the return to its starting-point, keeping up the same flash and clatter, the Spaniards responding furiously. It was at this time that a shot passed clean through the Baltimore, though, fortunately, no one was hurt. Lieutenant Brumbuys had the signal halyard shot out of his hands; while on the Boston a shell burst in the state-room of Ensign Dodridge, and another passed through the Boston's foremast.

During the third round the Raleigh was carried by the strong current against the bows of two of the Spanish cruisers, where all aboard seemed too bewildered to take advantage of their opportunity. Captain Coughlan, however, did not lose his presence of mind, but poured a destructive broadside into the enemy. His vessel was then carried back into the line.

The Fate of the Reina Cristina.

While this fierce combat was waging, the Reina Cristina moved out of the Spanish line and made direct for the American flagship, which hurled a perfect tornado of lead into the approaching cruiser, her immense hulk being soon riddled with large holes, where the eight-inch shells had entered. The port-bridge, where Admiral Montojo was standing, was also struck; but he bravely stuck to his post, while ton after ton of steel fell upon the deck.

No ship, however, could withstand such a fire, and the gallant Reina Cristina turned round and made for the shore. As she swang round, Captain Gridley gave her a parting shot, that caused her to tremble and stagger, while the 250-pound shell crashed through the bowels of the ship and there exploded, hurling its deadly contents all round, while from the shattered deck rose columns of steam, mingled with human fragments. The ship, now completely disabled, continued her retreat. Sixty of her crew had been killed, and had she continued longer within the Americans' range, all would have met a like fate.

Meanwhile, the little Petrel was engaged in a duel with two Spanish torpedo boats, headed for the American line. One of these she chased to the shore, where the crew sought shelter in the woods, while their abandoned vessel was blown into pieces by the daring American. The other advanced to within 500 yards of the Olympia, braving the storm of shot and shell that threatened to overwhelm her. As it was, a shell ploughed its way into her middle, where it exploded. From stern to beam she shivered, gave a forward plunge, and sank beneath the waves.

The Baltimore, too, was engaged in an encounter with the Castilla, that resulted most disastrously to the latter; for she was soon a blazing wreck.

Five times the American fleet passed in front of the enemy, keeping up the same deadly fire, that showed only too well the results of American training and marksmanship. And though the Spanish guns in the ships and the forts ceased rattling not one instant, they neither disconcerted nor damaged in the least the Americans. It was now a quarter of eight, and so dense was the smoke hanging over the waters, that it was impossible for the Americans to distinguish not alone the enemy's ships, but their own vessels, and the signals, too.

The Commodore Pipes All Hands to Breakfast.

The Commodore now wisely concluded to stop for awhile the fighting, and allow his men a chance to take some breakfast; for the brave fellows, after their morning's hard work, were hungry as wolves; so the signal "cease firing" was given, and the ships were headed for the eastern side of the bay, near the transport ships.

It is related that the Spaniards were exceedingly relieved when they saw the Americans in--as they thought--full retreat, and many of them stood on the decks and cheered, thinking they had gained the victory.

When the various commanders came on board to report to Commodore Dewey, it was found that not a ship was disabled, not a gun out of order, not a man killed or injured. It is true, Frank B. Randall, the engineer of the McCulloch, died from heart-disease as the fleet steamed past Corregidor, but this was not in any wise due to the engagement. Many miraculous escapes, indeed, are related; and it is really wonderful that no serious casualties took place. The sailors, as may easily be imagined, were nearly wild with joy; and as all hands were piped to breakfast, the decks were gay with merry jackies improvising a dance of victory; while the strains of Yankee Doodle and the Star-Spangled Banner filled the morning air. Cheery was that breakfast, and sweet, ah, sweet was the three hours' rest so nobly earned.

The Americans Renew the Battle.

At 10.45 the boatswains' whistles and the drums announced the renewal of the battle. Instantly every man was at his post, eager to finish the job so well begun. Again the American squadron was headed to ward the enemy's battle line; but several of the Spanish ships were now almost disabled, the Cristina and the Castilla were both on fire, and the Mindanao beached not far from Cavité.

Admiral Montojo had meanwhile transferred his flags to the Isla de Cuba; and the Baltimore, leaving the American line, made straight for his former flagship, which threw a torrent of shells toward the intrepid American. The Baltimore, however, notwithstanding that a few of these deadly missiles exploded on her deck, wounding eight of her crew, continued her course till within 2500 yards of her antagonist. Then from her decks she fired a broadside at the Spaniard. There was an ominous silence for a minute or two, and both Spaniards and Americans waited anxiously for the smoke to lift. Suddenly, all saw a sight that struck every man in both fleets with terror, for it seemed the probable fate of all. The Cristina shot into the air and then fell back upon the waves with a thunderous crash, while a thousand fragments of men and timbers--promiscuously mingled in awful confusion--were whirling through the air. Down into the waves she sank--that gallant man-of-war--the pride of the Spanish fleet--down into the deep blue sea. Upon the surface, amid tons of floating débris, a hundred sailors struggled for life; many sank to rise no more; some, however, succeeded in reaching one of the adjacent consorts.

The Baltimore, aided by the Olympia and the Raleigh, now kept up a deadly fire on the Juan de Austria; which answered this terrible fusillade with intermittent volleys, that spoke well for the courage, but poorly for the aim, of her gunners.

It was at this moment that the Raleigh sent a shell crashing through the other's centre, exploding her magazine; in an instant she seemed a crater of flame, and sank back like the Cristina, a total wreck. Her flying fragments also inflicted such damage upon the gunboat El Correo, which lay beside her, that she was completely disabled. The Petrel gave her a finishing shot, that closed her brief career. Another Spanish gunboat, the General Lezo, also set out to accomplish great things, but the Concord, with a few good shots, put a quietus upon her warlike ambition, and, like her sister ships, she too was soon a floating wreck.

Meanwhile, the Boston was engaged in a duel with the Velasco. Captain Wildes, of the former, stood on the bridge of his ship vigorously fanning with a palm-leaf fan; for it was a hot morning and it was the captain's policy to keep cool. The Velasco responded to the Boston's broadsides but feebly. Then with a plunge she careened to one side and sank heavily, her crew having scarcely enough time to escape to the adjacent shore. The Castilla had already been set on fire and scuttled by her crew, to prevent her magazine from exploding.

The Don Antonia de Ulloa, which was engaged with the Olympia and the Boston, though riddled with shells and on fire in a dozen places, refused to surrender. Her gallant commander Robion stuck to his ship to the very last; then she sank with colors flying, a signal example of Spanish bravery. Another vessel had hauled down her flag, but when a boat's crew from the McCulloch approached to take possession of her, she treacherously fired on them. Suddenly, from every ship in the American fleet there thundered a swift and awful retribution. There was darkness around her shivering hull, there was a dull explosion and a lurid glare; and when the smoke had rolled away nothing but a few floating fragments were left to indicate the traitor's fate.

Thus ship after ship of the Spanish fleet met a like fate, until Admiral Montojo, on the deck of the deserted and almost-useless Isla de Cuba, took down his colors, and, with a few surviving officers, escaped to the shore.

The Yankees Are Victorious.

But, notwithstanding the destruction and the surrender of the Spanish fleet, the batteries kept up an incessant fire. The Americans now turned their attention to these, and speedily silenced them. The Petrel was left behind to complete the destruction of the smaller gunboats. This she did most effectually.

As the Cavité Arsenal unfurled the white flag, the command "Cease firing" was given, and the various American commanders once more gathered on the flagship, their men cheering themselves hoarse.

A most extraordinary victory, truly! Not one man lost, and only six men slightly wounded, all on the Baltimore; while the Baltimore, Olympia, and Raleigh suffered injuries that could be repaired in a few hours.

The Spanish, on the other hand, were almost annihilated, and lost the following vessels: Sunk: Reina Cristina, Castilla, Don Antonia de Ulloa. Burnt: Don Juan de Austria, Isla de Luzon, Isla de Cuba, General Lezo, Marquis del Duero, El Correo, Velasco, and Isla de Mindanao. Captured: Manila, and several tugs and small launches. Besides this, the enemy lost more than 600 men.

On the day following the engagement, the squadron returned to Cavité, where it took up a permanent position until the arrival of the transports from America. On the third of May the Spanish evacuated Cavité Arsenal, which was then held by a detachment from the fleet. The same day the batteries on Corregidor Island surrendered to the Raleigh and the Baltimore. And thus ended the greatest naval battle in American history.

THE AMERICAN OCCUPATION.

Merritt, and the Expedition.

The Spanish fleet had been destroyed; Cavité had been taken; and Admiral Dewey lay in the harbor awaiting the reinforcements that were on the way.

These reinforcements had been sent out in three expeditions: the first expedition, Brigadier-General Anderson commanding, consisted of 115 officers and 2,386 enlisted men; the second, under Brigadier-General Greene, of 158 officers and 3,428 enlisted soldiers; the third, under command of General McArthur, consisted of 197 officers, and 4,650 men. With these expeditions went the Astor Battery and Major-General Wesley Merritt, who had been chosen Commander-in-chief of the United States forces in the Philippines. In all, over 11,000 men were on their way to Manila, and a fourth expedition, consisting of 1,763 men, under Brigadier-General H. G. Otis, was soon to follow.

It was the cruiser Charleston, which conveyed the transports of one of these expeditions, that stopped to have a little fun, by way of profitable diversion, at the island of Guam, one of the Ladrones.

Thirteen shells from the Charleston went thundering against the fortress of Santa Cruz. But even thirteen proved insufficient to provoke a Spanish reply. However, a half-hour after the bombardment began, the captain of the port, Lieutenant Commander José Garcia y Gutierrez, of the Spanish navy, accompanied by one or two other Spanish officers, were rowed to the Charleston, and, having been taken on board, apologized for their seeming discourtesy; they said that lack of ammunition at the fortress made it impossible for them to return the American salute. They were, in fact, unaware that war had been declared between the United States and Spain, and were, therefore, much surprised when Captain Henry Glass informed them that they were prisoners of war. They were sent ashore and ordered to convey to the Governor Don Juan Marina the command that he come upon the Charleston. He replied that, under Spanish law, he was not allowed to go aboard a foreign man-of-war.

Captain Glass then sent Lieutenant Brannersreuther to the Governor, demanding an immediate and unconditional surrender. A half-hour was allowed for the consideration of the demand. The Governor expressed great surprise at these peremptory proceedings; but twenty-five minutes after this demand he, nevertheless, made the unconditional surrender of everything Spanish in and around the Ladrones. The guns, ammunition, and flags of the Spaniards, as well as the garrison and all the Spanish officers, were then taken aboard one of the transports, and the expedition continued its journey Manila-ward.

It is said that, great was the rejoicing on board the cruiser and the transports as the Stars and Stripes were unfurled from the Fort of Santa Cruz; and, while the Charleston fired a salute of 21 guns, Captain Glass formally declared the Ladrones to be possessions of the United States.

Upon his arrival at Manila, by the transport Newport,--July 26th,--General Merritt immediately reported to Admiral Dewey, and, establishing his headquarters in the Cavité Arsenal, he assumed command of all the American land-forces. He was officially recognized by a salute of 13 guns. The three expeditions, respectively, arrived a few days after one another, and all were now awaiting the word of the Commander-in-chief. He at once proceeded to inform himself of the situation.

Meantime, General Aguinaldo had removed his headquarters to Malolos. He had also consolidated the divers insurrectionary parties in the northeast provinces, by which he had gained an additional force of 5,000 men, and obtained control of the entire northern part of Luzon. The insurgents, too, kept up a desultory fight, and were gradually driving the Spaniards back. The latter possessed still a few outposts, but these were for the most part but feebly defended, and it was indeed a question of but a few days when the enemy would be driven within the walls of the city. The insurgents were already building trenches on the northern part of the city; they also held the water-works; and this, inasmuch as the dry season was approaching, was most important.

The Battle of Malate.

On the night of Sunday, July 31st, occurred the first loss of life of the Americans in the Philippine Islands. They had thrown up earth-works not far from the Spanish trenches, which, soon after dark, kept up a desultory fire.

The Americans began to reply in the American fashion, the men standing up and exposing themselves to the Spanish fire. The most dangerous place, of course, was the open ground just behind the trenches; and here the greatest loss was incurred; for the reinforcements, when crossing this open space, were wholly unprotected.

It has been said that there was no need to reply to the Spanish fire, as the intrenchment was sufficient protection. However, the First Colorado and the First Nebraska regiments, who threw up the trenches, suffered no loss whatever. No attention was paid to the Spanish fire at that time; and it is a pity that this contemptuous indifference on the part of the Americans was not maintained.

Subsequently, about the middle of July, the First Battalion of the Californians pitched their tents at Tambo. This soon came to be known as Camp Dewey. The Californians were soon joined by the other American regiments, and outposts were stationed far in front, near the insurgent line. The insurgents at this time were between the Spaniards and the Americans; but, at General Merritt's solicitation, Aguinaldo moved his position over to Pasai, while the Americans advanced to the insurgent trenches.

These were soon found untenable, and it was Lieutenant-Colonel McAvoy, who commanded the Colorado battalions, that was the first to assume a position in front of the enemy. He advanced the line to an old Capuchin chapel, that stood in the middle of the field, between the Spanish position and the insurgent trenches.

The Colorado and Nebraska men, who threw up the new breast-works at the point that Colonel McAvoy had chosen, were occasionally fired at by the Spaniards, who had a good view of what the Americans were doing. The breast-work was about seven feet high, with notches and peepholes for the lookouts. Inside the parapet was a parallel elevation of about two feet--for the men to stand on when they wished a shot at the enemy. The old chapel itself was in the line of defense, and was used for cover; though it was nearly wrecked by the many shells that had been thrown against it.

Saturday, July 30th, two batteries were placed in position: they were A and B of the Utah Battalion. The guns of the former were placed on the right, those of the latter on the left, of the chapel.

It was, accordingly, near Pasai, about ten o'clock the same day, that the first American blood was spilt. The First Colorado regiment had just been relieved by the men from Nebraska, and were returning to camp, when a Spanish bullet hit Private W. H. Sterling of Company K. in the upper part of the left arm. The wound, however, was very slight, and Sterling was soon back in the ranks.

Saturday night the Spaniards began a lively fusillade. But this did no damage--the men were safe inside the newly-finished parapet. The rain, in fact, made things far more uncomfortable than the Spanish bullets. It fell in torrents, but the inventive Yankees tore up the floor of the old chapel, and hastily built shelters, which effectually kept off the water.

The Spanish trench was about 800 yards from the American breast-works. It extended northeast, just in front of the old fort at Malate, and was strengthened with rocks and sandbags. The land between the two trenches was low and level. On Sunday night Spaniards advanced beyond their works, began a heavy fire against the Americans, and drove in the pickets of the Tenth Pennsylvania. The bullets began to fall among the Americans, and the guns of Malate roared continuously. The night is described as awful. From the skies fell tons of water, while the wind blew with the force of a cyclone, howling and shrieking through the swaying trees.

Major Cuthbertson was in command of the Pennsylvanians, and when the pickets came in and reported that the enemy was trying to flank the Americans, he ordered K and B companies into the trench, and also commanded Major Bierer, who commanded companies D and E, to the front.

The Spaniards, meanwhile, with their Mausers, kept up a terrific fire, but the Americans and their Springfields soon began a vociferous reply. The Utah artillerymen displayed remarkable coolness, and worked their four guns like veterans. Though there was a perfect hail of bullets, only one man was hit, and he but slightly wounded. The Spanish fire was now concerted, and their bullets whistled, sang, and fell all round the Americans. Most of them, however, were too high, though they sounded dangerously near.

Across the open field, to the rear of the American trenches, now came two companies, under the command of Major Bierer. It was here in this unprotected field, swept by Mauser bullets, that the first American lost his life. Corporal W. E. Brown, of Company D, Tenth Pennsylvania, was the hero. He was shot through the body. Many others around him were wounded, and, a few minutes later, Private William E. Stillwagon was also killed. The men, notwithstanding, kept right on, and continued to shoot; though, on account of the darkness, they could not see the enemy; their fire, therefore, was not effective.

At this juncture gallant Captain O'Hara, in command of the Third Artillery, still in camp, who knew that the boys in front must soon be in want of ammunition, ordered his command to the rescue. And they came in the nick of time. For the soldiers in the trenches had but a few rounds of cartridges left. Many of the men, too, were shooting wild; others, also, were somewhat demoralized; for the darkness, the danger, and the uncertainty of the enemy were most disconcerting to raw troops; but the example of Lieutenant Krayenbuhl and his regulars, who kept up a steady fire, had good effect upon the volunteers; they soon recovered themselves, and, with a rousing cheer, the whole command moved onward.

Meanwhile, General Greene sent other reinforcements to the front,--Colonel Smith, with part of his regiment, the First California. As Boxton's battalion of Californians advanced through the open field, they received the terrible Spanish fire, and many were shot, and were left by the way. It was here that Captain Reinhold Richter, of Company I, was fatally shot; and here, too, First Sergeant Morris Jurth, of Company A, was killed. It was said that these Californians, not knowing of the presence of the Pennsylvanians and of the regulars in front, fired three volleys at them before the mistake was discovered. It is believed, however, that no damage was done by the firing; but it was a mistake that might have cost the Americans dearly. Meanwhile, two men were killed in the trenches: Sergeant McIlrath, of Battery H., Tenth Pennsylvania, who had recklessly exposed himself upon the parapet, and Private Brady of Company I, the same regiment.

It was at this time that Private Finlay of Company C, First California, gave proof of remarkable bravery. Finlay belonged to Major Jones' Transportation Department, and, on account of his knowledge of Spanish, he had been put in charge of the ammunition-train that was sent forward. In the train were eight carromatas, each in charge of a native driver. Right through the open fields, where the bullets fell thickest, he drove with his carromatas. The canvas-tops of the carts were soon ripped into shreds, and one or two of the natives were wounded; but the intrepid American kept right on toward the trenches, and delivered his cartridges. But before he reached his destination one of the ponies was killed. He merely took it out of the cart, and, with the native driver, he pulled the cart up to the place occupied by the others. On his return-journey he stopped to pick up the dead and wounded that he found lying along the way, taking them to the field-hospital in the rear, then received orders to take ten carromatas and to go after all the wounded. This he did as coolly as if he were loading his wagons with hay. Still, all were tenderly cared for. The eight dead were buried in the yard of the old convent of Maribacan, back of the camp. Every man was sewed up in his blanket; to it was attached a tag with his name for identification. The bodies were then all buried in one trench, and above the grave of each man a headboard with his name.

The chaplain of the Tenth Pennsylvania made careful observation of the place, and of each grave.

About 2 o'clock the Spaniards began to cease firing. The Americans, on the other hand, kept up a lively rattle for a quarter of an hour longer; but the engagement was about over; and General Greene, who had followed the men to the front, returned to the camp. A few desultory skirmishes took place for a day or two longer, in which two men were killed; but the Spanish advance had been checked by the first night's work, and by Monday morning the battle of Malate was practically over. Altogether, the Americans lost ten killed and forty-six wounded.

Capture of Manila.

Nothing of importance occurred for several days after the battle of Malate. Troops were landed on the Bacoor shore, and the foreign warships took up their respective positions: the British and the Japanese vessels near the American fleet, the French and the German vessels on the other side of the bay. An ominous quiet brooded over all.

On August 7th, the following letter was sent by General Merritt and Admiral Dewey to General Jandenes:

To the General-in-Chief commanding the Spanish Forces at Manila:

Sir: We have the honor to notify Your Excellency that operations
of the land and naval forces of the United States against the
defenses of Manila may begin at any time after the expiration of
forty-eight hours from the receipt by you of this communication,
or sooner if made necessary by attack on your part.

This notice is given to afford you an opportunity to remove all
non-combatants from the city.

Yours Respectfully,
Wesley Merritt, Major-General U. S. A.,
Commanding.
George Dewey, Rear-Admiral U. S. N.,
Commanding.

To this the Spanish general replied in a polite note; that on account of the fact that he was surrounded by the insurgents he was without "a place of refuge for the increased number of wounded, sick, women, and children" within the walls. He doubtless hoped that his mention of this fact would put off the attack altogether.

And it did delay it for several days. However, General Merritt then issued the following order, which was translated into Spanish:

In view of the extraordinary conditions under which this army is
operating, the commanding general desires to acquaint the officers
and men with the expectations he entertains as to their conduct.

You are assembled on foreign soil, situated within the western
confines of a vast ocean, separating you from your native
land. You have come not as despoilers or oppressors, but simply
as the instrument of a strong, free government, whose purposes
are beneficent, and which declared itself in this war champion
of those oppressed by Spanish misrule.

It is therefore the intention of this order to appeal directly
to your pride in your position as representatives of a high
civilization, in the hope and with the firm conviction that you
will so conduct yourself in your relation with the inhabitants
of these islands as to convince them of the lofty nature of the
mission you have come to execute.

It is not believed any acts of pillage, rapine or violence will be
committed by soldiers or others in the employ of the United States,
but should there be persons with this command who prove themselves
unworthy of this confidence, their acts will be considered not
only as crimes against the sufferers, but as direct insults to
the United States Flag, and be punished on the spot with the
maximum penalties known to military law.

It was decided to begin the attack on Saturday morning, August 13th.

Accordingly, a little before nine o'clock the fleet began to move in close to the city. The Olympia led the way, followed by the Raleigh and the Petrel, while the Callao and the launch Barcelo hugged the shore. The Monterey, with the Baltimore, Charleston, and Boston formed the reserve. The ships were all cleared for action, and moved majestically and silently forward. It was raining heavily.

Suddenly at twenty-five minutes of ten, the Olympia opened with her 8-inch guns. The first four shells were aimed at the Spanish fort at Malate--known as San Antonia de Abad. On account of the rain it was difficult to get the range, and so these first shells all fell short. The Raleigh, Petrel, and Callao also opened upon the fort, and as soon as the range was determined, the shots did great havoc, the fort soon being rendered untenable.

The Callao, under Lieutenant Tappan, and the launch Barcelo, which were nearer inshore, threw their shells among the Spanish riflemen, who replied but feebly.

General Merritt and his staff and the color guard of the First Oregon were on the despatch boat Zafiro.

General Anderson directed the operations on shore.

About twenty minutes after the bombardment began, General Greene, with the left wing, began the land-attack, the advance being made toward Malate, under cover of a heavy fire from the Utah Battery.

The troops, with colors flying, marched rapidly up the beach. The bands were playing and the men rushed forward with a cheer. Six companies of the Colorado regiment leaped over the enemy's breast-work and took position behind some low hedges but a few hundred feet from the Spanish line. General McArthur led the right wing, and was ably supported by the Astor Battery, under Captain March. It shelled a Spanish block-house with its Hotch-kiss Mountain guns, and then gallantly charged the position with revolvers. It lost three men killed.

Meanwhile, the bombardment had ceased, and the Colorados, the Californians, and the Eighteenth Regulars drove back the Spaniards from Malate, and occupied the position, where the Californians at once raised the Stars and Stripes.

In the suburbs of Malate and Ermita, where the Spaniards had erected street barricades, there was now considerable street-fighting, and the Californians, under Colonel Smith, advanced as far as the Luneta, within 300 yards of the citadel. At this moment General Greene, with several members of his staff, came galloping up the Luneta, a scattering fire playing upon him and his companions from the adjoining houses, until a white flag was raised above the southwest corner of the fort.

At this,--and while the Americans were standing at rest,--the Spaniards in the citadel opened fire upon them, fatally wounding two Californians: privates Dunsoupe and Lamerson. This has never been satisfactorily explained, but it was probably due to the confusion of the moment; for 2000 Spaniards, retreating from Santa Ana before a large body of insurgents, that were shooting at them, just then came up, and it was to aid these that the Spaniards behind the walls fired a volley after the flag of surrender had been raised.

General Greene then ordered the retreating Spaniards inside the walls, as a letter from the Captain-General was received inviting the American commander within for a consultation. General Greene himself, with Adjutant-General Bates, entered the city.

When General Merritt, on the Zafiro, saw the white flag, he sent General Whittier, with Flag-Lieutenant Thomas M. Bramley, ashore to meet the Captain-General to discuss the terms of surrender.

General Whittier found the Spanish officials much disturbed. Because of the Spaniards seeking refuge in the city from the insurgents, it was believed the Americans were continuing the attack.

When General Merritt himself entered the city, about three o'clock, the situation was explained, and a conference with General Jandenes resulted in the following terms of capitulation.

Capitulation of the Philippines.

Officers allowed to retain their swords and personal effects, but not their horses during their stay at Manila.

Prisoners of war surrendering their arms are to have necessary supplies provided from the treasury; when that is exhausted the Americans to make provision.

All public property is surrendered. Future disposition of Spanish troops surrendered is to be determined by negotiations between the respective governments.

Arms may be returned at General Merritt's discretion.

Banks will continue to operate under existing regulations, subject to change by the United States Government.

General Jandenes, it is said, was found in the sacristy of a church, which was filled with women and children. The capitulation, however, was made and signed in the adjacent municipal buildings.

The terms of capitulation were formally signed by the American commissioners: General Greene, Colonel Whittier, Colonel Crowder, and Captain Lamberton; and the Spanish commissioners Colonel San José Maria Laguen, Felix Don Carlos Reye, and General Don Nicolas de la Pena y Cuellas.

The insurgents were barred from the city. At dusk General Augustin, the Captain-General of the Islands, and his family, escaped on a German cruiser to Hong-Kong.

Lieutenant Bramley lowered the Spanish flag on Fort Santiago, and raised the Stars and Stripes. It is said that while this momentous ceremony was performing, many of the Spaniards looking on wept; while the American band played the Star-Spangled Banner, and the surrounding American troops presented arms.

The Americans suffered a loss of eight killed and forty wounded. The exact Spanish loss has never been ascertained, but it was probably not far from 500 killed and wounded. The Americans took 20,000 Mauser rifles, 3,000 Remingtons, a large number of cannon and 11,000 prisoners; 7,000 of them Spanish regulars.

American sentries were at once placed on the battlements and along the Pasig, and perfect order was maintained.

It was found, further, that the stories of starvation were grossly exaggerated; both the inhabitants and the soldiers were looking very well. Most of them, in fact, seemed to be pleased that the surrender had been made so soon, without great loss of life, and before a continued bombardment had reduced the city to ruins.

General Merritt and chief of staff, General Babcock, deserved great credit for their plan of attack, which was carried out successfully under great disadvantages. The conduct of the Americans, officers and men alike, army and navy, was most creditable.

Because the protocol establishing peace between the United States and Spain had been signed a few hours before the capture of Manila, it was believed that the United States was bound by the third article of the protocol, which reads:

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.

Awaiting the Peace Commission.

Thus Spain was to remain the nominal possessor of the Archipelago, until the decision of the Peace Commission.