a new power in their onward march had risen up in the Orient. The youngest of nations had come again to the edge of that marvelous region, the cradle of the race, whence the Aryans had moved westward so very long ago. CHAPTER XI HOW PEACE CAME MORE fortunate than the generals and the troops of Puerto Rico, Admiral Dewey and General Merritt, thanks to distance and a severed cable, were able to complete their work and set the final crown upon their labors by taking Manila before the order reached them to cease hostilities. That order, when it came, found them masters of the great Eastern city they had fought to win. In Puerto Rico the news stayed Schwan's cavalry in pursuit of the Spaniards, Brooke's gunners with the lanyards in their hands, and halted the other columns in their march over the island. In Cuba it saved Manzanillo, just falling before the guns of Goodrich and his little squadron, and checked the movements which were bringing port after port into American possession. It stopped also the departure of a fleet which, by its existence and intention, was a potent cause of the coming of peace. Even before the battle of the 3d of July the department at Washington was making ready to send a fleet consisting of the Iowa, Oregon, Yankee, Yosemite, and Dixie, under Commodore Watson in the flag-ship Newark, direct to Spain, primarily to fight the fleet of Admiral Camara, which had wandered helplessly across the Mediterranean with vague outgivings about going to Manila, but which merely went through the Suez Canal, and then turned round and came back again. But after the battle of July 3 the preparations. of Commodore Watson's squadron were pushed more energetically than ever, re-enforcements were prepared, and it was known that it was to cross the Atlantic in any event, and carry war to the very doors of Spain's coast cities. This fact was soon as well known in Europe as in America. Presently it became clear that Watson's fleet was no pretence, but a very grim reality; that it was nearly in readiness; and finally that it was on the very eve of departure. What American ships and seamen could do had just been shown at Manila and Santiago, and there was no reason to suppose that they would be less effective on the Spanish coast. Spain did not like the prospect, and some of her neighbors were as averse as she to the sound of American guns in the Mediterranean, not heard in those waters now for nearly a century. It would be something new, something which might disturb concerts and Bunds and other excellent arrangements, and must not be permitted. It became clear to the diplomatic mind that Spain must make peace and make it at once, on any terms. Hence arose what is politely called pressure, although poor Spain did not need much pressing. The war which she had forced-no one knows exactly for what reason for what she called her pride or her point of honor, had resulted in a series of rapid, crushing, and unbroken defeats. She had expected, perhaps, to make a stand, to win a fight, somewhere; but her whole system, her entire body politic, was rottener than any one dreamed, and the whole fabric went to pieces like an egg-shell when struck by the hand of a vigorous, enterprising |