Читать книгу Young Peoples' History of the War with Spain - Prescott Holmes - Страница 10

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I have already told you that the Cubans, in their rebellion, had driven the Spaniards out of many places in Cuba, but had not been able to get possession of the chief harbors. So now it was thought best that our ships should blockade the large harbors of Cuba. Do you know what blockade means? It means to surround a place held by the enemy, and stay there, doing any damage that can be done, cutting the enemy off from outside help, and so, in time, if he is not strong enough to break the blockade, he must surrender, as his supply of food will give out.

Rear-Admiral Sampson.

On the morning of April 22d, a squadron under the command of Acting Rear-Admiral Sampson sailed from Key West to establish a blockade of the most important Cuban ports. The ships which were to be stationed off Havana reached that port on the same day; others were sent to different ports along the coast, and so the blockade was begun.

All kinds of vessels were employed in this blockading service. There were huge battleships, splendid cruisers, and gunboats that could go into shallower waters than the large ships. There were also monitors—immense fighting machines with decks but a little height above the water and big guns in circular turrets. Then there were torpedo boats—very swift vessels armed with deadly torpedoes, any one of which could sink the largest ship afloat.

Some of our large passenger steamships had been appropriated by the Government for war service, and did good work for the blockade, as they can move very fast. They flew about from place to place as "scouts" or "spies"; they carried messages; they cut the Spanish cables under water, and were useful in other ways.

The gunboat Nashville sailed from Key West with the squadron, and before the sun had fairly risen she saw the smoke of a steamer away off to the westward. She gave chase at once, and, as the vessels drew near, the stranger was flying the flag of Spain. The Nashville fired a shot across her bows, and this was the first shot in the war between the United States and Spain. The Spaniard was not inclined to stop, and it required another shot before she would stop her engines. The Nashville sent an officer in a boat to inform the steamer that she was a prize to the United States. She was found to be a Spanish merchantman, the Buena Ventura, and was sent in charge of a prize-crew to Key West. During the next thirty days, many other Spanish ships, with cargoes worth millions of dollars, were captured by different vessels of the navy. A few were released, but the larger part were condemned by a prize-court and sold.

The first action of the war was a small affair, but I shall mention it, as it was much talked about at the time. It took place on April 27th, a few days after our ships had begun the blockade. The Spaniards were building new forts at Matanzas, a port about sixty miles east of Havana. With the exception of Havana, Matanzas has the finest harbor on the northern coast of Cuba. The city itself lies between two small rivers and contains many beautiful homes. The houses are often decorated with colored tiles, and with their luxuriant gardens make a charming picture against the background of hills that rise beyond the beautiful valley of the Yumurri, which is one of the loveliest spots in Cuba. In times of peace the exports of sugar and molasses from Matanzas have been very large, but the Cuban army burned many of the finest plantations in the district.

The ships that engaged the new forts that the Spaniards were adding to the castle of San Severino and other defences of Matanzas, were the flagship New York, the monitor Puritan, and the cruiser Cincinnati. The Spaniards fired the first gun, and then the New York took up a position between two batteries and delivered broadsides right and left. Then the Puritan's big guns came into play, and then the Cincinnati poured a stream of shells into the forts. It did not take long to knock the Spanish defences into sand-heaps—only about half an hour—and then the American ships stood out to sea. As they were doing so, the Spaniards fired one more shot. The Puritan had the range and sent a twelve-inch shell in reply. It was one of the best shots of the war. It struck the Spanish gun fairly, dismounted it, and then burst, throwing the sand high in the air. The Spanish account of the engagement stated that no damage whatever was done, except the killing of one mule!

Great excitement and great anxiety were caused by the news that a large and powerful fleet was coming from Spain. Our Government could not tell whether these ships would come to a Spanish port in the West Indies, or whether they would attack one of our large cities on the Atlantic coast. We had not ships enough to protect all our ports as well as to blockade Cuba, so much care was needed to make good plans, and our naval officers were kept busy. It was most important to watch for the Spanish ships.

The "Cape Verde" Fleet.

The "Cape Verde" fleet, as the Spanish ships were called, troubled the Navy Department of the United States day and night. They knew that it sailed from the Cape Verde Islands in the latter part of April, but that was about all they did know regarding it. At last it was seen off the Island of Martinique and then it was lost again. It was next heard from at Curacoa, an island in the Caribbean Sea, off the north coast of Venezuela, but before the American ships could reach it, the Spanish admiral had coaled and provisioned his ships at Willemstad, the chief city on the island, and was off again to sea.

U.S. Battleship "Oregon."

There was some reason to think that the Spanish fleet might catch our great battleship Oregon, coming as fast as it could to the Eastern Coast. I must take time to tell you about the Oregon. Shortly before the war began, the Oregon was in the Pacific Ocean; but when she received a message to come to an Atlantic port, to be ready for war with Spain, she took coal at San Francisco and started—March 19th—on her long voyage. She went south through the Pacific Ocean, east through the Strait of Magellan, and then turned northward into the Atlantic Ocean. Then the closest watch was kept for the enemy; the guns were always ready, the lights were covered every night. Though Captain Clark did not know that war had really begun before that time, still he knew that there was danger. On May 24th the Oregon arrived at a port in Florida, having come 14,000 miles, through all kinds of weather, in two months' time, without breaking anything about the ship. So the Spaniards did not catch the Oregon, but later in the year she helped to catch them.

Captain Charles E. Clark.

When the Oregon arrived at. Jupiter Inlet, Florida, she was as able to fight or to run as on the day she was put into commission. When she left San Francisco she had nine hundred tons of coal on board. During the voyage she consumed almost four thousand tons. Callao was the first port where the Oregon stopped. From there she ran down the Pacific coast, and after passing through the straits sailed up the eastern coast of South America to Rio Janeiro, where she was notified by the American consul that the United States and Spain were really at war. There were now two other American warships at Rio. The gunboat Marietta had joined the Oregon near the straits, and the Buffalo, which the United States had bought from Brazil, was waiting for them at Rio. I will let Captain Clark tell you the story of the remainder of the voyage, in his own way:

"Several long cablegrams were exchanged between the Government and myself. Nothing whatever in the way of instructions was issued that would hamper me or in any way abridge my responsibility for bringing the Oregon home. We sailed from Rio on May 4. I decided, when we had been at sea a little while, to leave the Buffalo and the Marietta to shift for themselves. They were so slow that I feared the Oregon might be late in arriving where she was most needed. I left these ships off Cape Frio, one hundred miles above Rio, after signaling them, 'Come to Bahia, or run ashore if attacked by overwhelming force.' I reached Bahia on the 8th, but we were told to 'Come on.' We sailed next morning, and this run to Barbadoes was the most thrilling of the entire voyage. We steamed absolutely without a light.

"Indeed, the entire trip from Sandy Point to Jupiter Inlet was a lightless voyage. In pitchlike darkness we drove along at our highest speed—seeing lights many times, but always avoiding the ships that bore them. We were out of court. We had no right of way without a light. Even if we met a vessel on our port, we gave way.

"Night and day the men stood at the guns. Not for a single moment was vigilance relaxed. The strain on the men was terrible. For four days at a time hammocks were never strung. Watch and watch about, the men lay beside the guns, sound asleep, while the men on duty stood silently above them. All the lookouts were doubled and changed with unusual frequency.

"Barbadoes was reached just before daylight, May 18, and after rushing two hundred and fifty tons of coal aboard, we sailed the same evening. Still the orders read, 'Come on.' From our consul I learned that Cervera's fleet was at Martinique, just to the north of us. This fleet had been extolled for speed and fighting qualities. I am not a rash man. I was not looking for that fleet. The situation seemed critical. Sailing just before dark, I headed northwest, apparently into the heart of the Caribbean Sea. This information, I have no doubt, was promptly communicated to Admiral Cervera. But as soon as the darkness of a moonless night had thoroughly set in, I changed the course to due south; and ran below Barbadoes and thence far to the eastward before I took the Oregon to the northward. We thus passed far to sea east of Martinique, and eventually turned into the north Atlantic beyond St. Thomas. I carefully avoided the Windward Channel and the shallow waters of the Bahamas.

"I didn't know where the Department wanted to use me. I was in the dark as to the location of the two fleets. I knew one had been at Hampton Roads and another at Key West, and the charts told me that Jupiter Inlet was in telegraphic reach of all points on the coast. From that place I had coal enough to make the run to either of the two fleets."

With scarcely a day's delay, the Oregon joined the North Atlantic Squadron, in Cuban waters, and was one of the vessels under Commodore Schley when that officer trapped the Spanish fleet in the harbor of Santiago.

When we think of the officers and men on the decks of a warship, we must not forget the force of men below the decks. The engineers, firemen and stokers do as good work, and are entitled to as much praise, as the fighting force above. In battle they are kept under the hatches, and, as a rule, never know of the progress or the result of a fight until it closes. They work in a temperature of from one hundred to one hundred and fifty degrees, by half-hour stretches. The roaring furnaces make the fire-rooms almost beyond a man's power to endure, and we should give a great deal of our praise to the brave fellows who make the power that moves the ship.

The Men Who Make the Power.

You know that we saw in the first chapter, that Spain owned another large island some miles east of Cuba—an island called Porto Rico.

This island was sighted by Columbus on November 16, 1493, and, three days later, he anchored in one of its bays. In 1510, and again a year later, Ponce de Leon visited the island and established a settlement, to which he gave the name of San Juan Bautista. Spain did not always hold it peaceably, however, for at different times the Dutch and the English tried to take it from her. The people of the island used to be terribly annoyed by pirates and buccaneers, but that was a long time ago.

The Spanish used to call San Juan the "Rich Port of John the Baptist," and it was a great source of profit to them for nearly four hundred years. Ponce is the largest city in the island, but San Juan has the advantage of a large, protected harbor. Like Havana and Santiago, San Juan has its Morro Castle, and within its walls are the buildings of a small military town—houses for troops, a chapel, bake-house, and guard-room, with dungeons down by the sea, and underneath it.

Palace and Sea-wall, San Juan, Porto Rico.

The city of San Juan lies upon an island connected with the mainland by a bridge and a causeway. The streets are narrow, the houses are low, mostly of a single story, and are built in the old-fashioned Spanish style, with thick walls around the courtyard. The fronts are ugly and are painted all sorts of brilliant colors—pink, blue, purple and yellow. There are heavy shutters in the windows for protection, but there are no panes of glass in the town. Behind the gloomy walls are splendid gardens and courtyards, with splashing fountains, shaded by palms. The city contains a cathedral, a theatre, a city hall, the Governor-General's palace, and several fine churches, and in the center is quite a large park, with concrete walks and seats, as with us. There is no turf, however. All around this park the market women gather every morning, selling poultry, eggs, vegetables and flowers, and in the evening there is music by a military band.

It was thought that the Spanish fleet, which had caused our Government so much anxiety, might go to San Juan, the capital of the island, and so, before the Oregon arrived, and before any of the Spanish ships had been seen, Admiral Sampson took some of his vessels from Cuba to Porto Rico in hope of meeting Admiral Cervera, the Spanish commander, and his fleet. Our ships reached San Juan in the evening of May 11th, but could see nothing of the Spanish ships. Next morning our ships fired upon the forts guarding the harbor, to try the strength of the enemy. But finding the forts stronger than he thought they were, Admiral Sampson drew off his fleet. He could not spare the time, or spend his powder and shells, upon San Juan then. The important thing to do was to find the Spanish fleet. So Admiral Sampson again sailed toward Havana.

The two ports on the northern coast of Cuba that seemed most likely to attract the Spanish fleet were Havana and Matanzas. There was one port on the southern coast that seemed to be a good one for the Spanish fleet—the port of Cienfuegos. So our ships continued the blockade of Havana and Matanzas, and now Commodore Schley was sent with several vessels to watch Cienfuegos.

The city of Cienfuegos is situated some distance back from the sea, in a harbor which winds and twists about between high hills, completely obscuring it from ships a little distance from the shore. The word Cienfuegos means "a hundred fires." Close by the water's edge there stood a cable-house, where one end of a submarine cable, which reached to Santiago, some three hundred miles to the eastward, was secured. On one side of the cable-house was an old fort or lookout, such as the Spaniards used to have all along the coast. On the other side was a light-house. The Americans wished to destroy communication between Cienfuegos and Santiago, so they sent an expedition to cut the cable and destroy anything that would be of use to the Spaniards.

The ships that were sent to do this work were the Marblehead, the Nashville and the Windom. You will remember that the Nashville fired the first gun in the war with Spain. She is not a pretty boat at all. She is built differently from other vessels of her class, and her two tall funnels, or smokestacks, give her an ungainly appearance. Her commander was a splendid officer, though, and her crew were the bravest of the brave. I must tell you a little of her work after she captured the first prize of the war.

One day, while in company with the Marblehead and the Eagle, she saw a big Spanish mail steamer leave the harbor of Cienfuegos and put to sea, followed by nine Spanish gunboats. The Nashville started in pursuit of the big steamer, leaving the other American ships to attend to the gunboats. She soon overhauled the steamer, which proved to be the Argonata, and took possession of her. Her cargo was a very rich one, and among the passengers were twenty-nine Spanish soldiers and officers. These were taken on board the Nashville. Meanwhile, the Marblehead and the Eagle had disposed of the gunboats. It only took them half an hour to drive them back into the harbor, with their smokestacks shot off, and several of them in a sinking condition. The Nashville then turned over her prize to the Marblehead and started for Havana.

On her way she discovered a big gunboat, and, as the two ships drew near, the Spanish officers, who had been allowed on deck, saw that she was not an American vessel, and danced for joy. An instant later they were shoved down a hatchway and placed in the hold. As the stranger came closer it was plainly seen that she was nearly twice as large as the Nashville and more heavily armed, but the commander of the American vessel did not hesitate an instant. He cleared his ship for action and trained his guns on her. Just then she hoisted English colors and dipped them in salute to the stars and stripes that were floating above the Nashville. She proved to be the Talbot, an English ship cruising in those waters. The whole affair was a splendid display of courage on the part of the Nashville in clearing ship and showing fight to the big English gunboat. Every man on the American ship knew that if the stranger proved to be a Spanish war vessel the chances were ten to one against the Nashville; but none of them stopped to think of that, but made ready to fight her. Now we will return to Cienfuegos and see how our splendid seamen cut the Spanish cables in the very face of death.

Volunteers from the Marblehead and the Nashville manned the boats that were sent into the shallow waters to grapple for the cable. Each ship furnished a cutter and a launch, under the command of a lieutenant. The men who were to do the work were in the cutters, and each of the launches carried a small rapid-fire gun to protect the workers as much as possible. The Nashville shelled the shore and then the boats were ordered in. They went within one hundred yards of the shore and then began to grapple for the cable. As calmly as though they were fishing, the men worked with their hooks. At last the cable was caught, and soon it was brought to view. It proved not to be the Santiago cable, but about a hundred feet of its length were cut out of it, and the brave fellows grappled for another. They found it, hauled it up, and, with what tools they had, hacked it in two.

They were not unmolested, however, for Spaniards began to show themselves on the shore, and a perfect hail of bullets dimpled the water around the Americans as they worked. When a man in the boats was hit, another took his place. Sturdy arms at the oars held the boats against the strong current, while others hacked away the tough wires.

Then the guns of the ships sent an iron storm among the rocks and trees and the soft sands. They drove the Spaniards to shelter, and then they knocked the cable-house, the fort and the light-house to bits. It was not intended at first to destroy the light-house, but when it was discovered that the Spaniards used it for a shelter while firing upon the Americans, the gunners were ordered to cut it down, and in a short time nothing remained of it but a heap of ruins.

The personal bravery of the men in the boats was wonderful. Although untried in warfare, they conducted themselves like veterans in the hour of trial. Cable cutting is one of the new features of modern warfare, but that made no difference to the brave jackies and marines that volunteered for the work. One of their number was killed and several were wounded, but officers and men performed their work with the utmost coolness and bravery.