were at first unsheltered. Under these conditions some officers thought about and urged withdrawal, while General Wheeler, backed strongly by many of the younger officers and later by Lawton and Sumner, opposed any such movement. The spirit which carried the heights of San Juan held them, but to General Shafter, away from the front and the firing-line, the voices of doubt and alarm came with effective force. During the day he fluctuated from doubt to confidence. He wanted Sampson to try at once and at all hazards to break in, and he proposed to General Wheeler to move against the entrance forts of the harbor, thus giving a tardy adhesion to the wise plan of Sampson and Miles, which he had abandoned. Early on the morning of July 3 there came a despatch from him, written under the first depressing influences, to the War Department, saying that he had Santiago well invested, but that our line was thin, the city strongly defended, and not to be taken without heavy loss; that he needed re-enforcements, and was considering withdrawal to a position which an examination of the map showed to mean a retreat to the coast. This newsthe first received in twenty-four hours-came upon those in authority at Washington with a depressing shock. General Shafter was urged to hold the San Juan heights, and in a confused hurry every effort was made to get together more transports-none having been brought back from Santiago-and to drive forward the departure of troops. It was the one really dark day of the war, and the long hot hours of that memorable Sunday were heavy with doubt, apprehension, and anxiety.

CHAPTER VII

SANTIAGO THE SEA FIGHT

By one of the dramatic contrasts which fate delights to create in human history, at the very time when the Shafter despatch was filling Washington with gloom, the sea-power of Spain was being shot to death by American guns, and her ancient empire in the West Indies had passed away forever. It matters little now why Cervera pushed open the door of Santiago Harbor and rushed out to ruin and defeat. The admiral himself would have the world understand that he was forced to do so by ill-advised orders from Havana and Madrid. Very likely this is true, but if it is, Havana and Madrid must be admitted to have had good grounds for their decision. It did not occur to the Spaniards, either in Santiago or elsewhere, that the entire American army had been flung upon El Caney and San Juan, and that there were at the moment no reserves. Their own reports, moreover, from the coast were wild and exaggerated, so that, deceived by these as well as by the daring movements and confident attitude of the American army, they concluded that the city was menaced by not less than 50,000 men. Under these conditions Santiago would soon be surrounded, cut off, starved, and taken. It is true that Admiral Cervera had announced that if the Americans entered Santi

ago he would shell and destroy the city, and he would probably have done so, with complete Spanish indifference to the wanton brutality of such an act. But it is difficult to see how this performance would have helped the army or saved the fleet. With the American army on the heights of San Juan, and extending its lines, the ultimate destruction or capture of the entire squadron was a mere question of time. The process might be made more or less bloody, but the final outcome could not be avoided, and was certain to be complete. On the other hand, a wild rush out of the harbor might result possibly in the escape of one or more ships, and such an escape, properly treated in official despatches, could very well be made to pass in Spain for a victory. In remaining, there could be nothing but utter ruin, however long postponed. In going out, there was at least a chance, however slight, of saving something. So Cervera was ordered to leave the harbor of Santiago. He would have liked to go by night, but thanks to the precautions of Admiral Sampson the narrow entrance glared out of the darkness brilliant with the white blaze of the search-lights, and beyond lay the enemy, veiled in darkness, waiting and watching. The night was clearly impossible. It must be daylight, if at all. So on Sunday morning at half past nine the Spanish fleet with bottled steam came out of the harbor with a rush, the flag-ship Maria Teresa leading; then the other three cruisers about 800 yards apart; then, at 1,200 yards distance, the two crack Clyde-built torpedo-boat destroyers Furor and Pluton. As Admiral Sampson was to meet General Shafter that morning at Siboney, the New York had started to the

eastward, and was four miles away from her station when, at the sound of the guns, she swung round and rushed after the running battle-ships, which she could never quite overtake, although she came up so fast that she was able to get two shots at the torpedo boat destroyers before they went down which was only twenty minutes after they had emerged from the harbor entrance. It was a cruel piece of ill fortune that the admiral, who had made every arrangement for the fight, should, by mere chance of war, have been deprived of his personal share in it. Equally cruel was the fortune which had taken Captain Higginson and the Massachusetts on that day to Guantanamo to coal. These temporary absences left (beginning at the westward) the Brooklyn, Texas, Iowa, Oregon, Indiana, and the two converted yachts Gloucester and Vixen lying near inshore, to meet the escaping enemy. Quick eyes on the Iowa detected first the trailing line of smoke in the narrow channel and signal was made at 9.34 “Enemy Escaping" which was acknowledged on the Brooklyn at 9.35. Then all the fleet saw them and there was no need of any other signals. Admiral Sampson's order had long since been given: "If the enemy tries to escape, the ships must close and engage as soon as possible and endeavor to sink his vessels or force them to run ashore." Every ship was always stripped for action, each captain on the station knew by heart this order which was posted in every conning tower, his crew needed no other, and the perfect execution of it was the naval battle at Santiago.

The Spanish ships came out at eight to ten knots' speed, cleared the Diamond Shoal, and then turned