were still greater; in fact the handling of our ship, the Yosemite, Captain William H. Emory, was extraordinary. When morning came, that day, many rain-squalls were drifting alongshore with the trade wind, reducing the range of vision so much that a Spanish transport, the Antonio Lopez, with supplies for the town, was able to get within two miles of the Yosemite before she was seen.

At that time the Yosemite was slowly circling off the harbor, at a distance of five miles westnorth-west of the Morro. The Lopez was heading in from the west, but on discovering the Yosemite she turned south toward the land, intending to skirt the reefs, and get under cover of Fort Canuelo, on the west side of the harbor.

The moment the Lopez was sighted the Yosemite dashed ahead at full speed, the men were sent to quarters, and in a few minutes they began firing their five-inch guns at a range of two miles. At that the guns of the Morro and Canuelo began to belch, and, curiously enough, they got and kept the range. And then came the cruisers the Isabel II. and General Concha from the harbor to aid in the attack. These two ships had seven guns of 4.7-inch calibre between them, besides smaller ones that were entirely effective against any ship like the Yosemite, and their fire combined with that of the

forts was hot enough to have warranted Emory in seeking deep water at once. Moreover, the Yosemite was manned by inexperienced men (the Michigan Naval Militia). Nevertheless, the Yosemite held her course to head off the Lopez until she drove her hard on the reef, six miles from the Morro, and then she went hunting the Spanish war-ships, only to see a torpedoboat coming from the harbor at full speed, sneaking along shore as if to get behind her.

By this time, however, the Yosemite had the range of the cruisers, and they turned back in haste, though keeping up a steady fire. Then the Yosemite had a chase after the torpedoboat, but it got behind the stranded Lopez apparently uninjured.

At that the Yosemite opened once more on the Lopez, giving it, all told, two hundred fiveinch shells, besides some six-pounders, and setting it on fire, after which the Spanish cruisers were driven out of sight behind the Morro. What with the forts, the cruisers, the torpedoboat and the Lopez the Yosemite had a call for dextrous manoeuvring that was unique in this

war.

The Lopez was wrecked, but the Spaniards asserted that they saved twelve of the fifteen guns she was bringing, besides some ammunition. They got it from the wreck after the Yosemite was ordered away. The Yosemite

kept her battle-flags flying all day, as she cruised off the Morro, in hope that the Spaniards would come out with their repaired Terror, and the other fighters seen in the morning, but it was a vain hope. If anyone had doubted the efficiency of our auxiliary cruisers manned by naval militia, the work off San Juan in June dispelled it entirely. With our naval officers in command, a few experienced seamen for petty officers, the auxiliaries did work that was within its limits quite as creditable as that done by the regular fighting ships. The genius of the nation can very well rest on the deeds of these emergency men for its reputation.

There were a couple of minor incidents in the naval history of the month on the Cuban coast that should have mention here. The auxiliary Yankee had a little brush with a gunboat and a shore battery at Cienfuegos, in which one man, S. B. Kennedy, was wounded.

Lieutenant Victor Blue, of the Suwanee, who had made a landing some time before on the north coast, to communicate with Gomez, the Cuban general, now made a complete tour of Santiago Bay, in order to locate exactly the Spanish squadron. For this he was especially commended by Secretary Long.

And then there was the hoisting of the first American flag on Cuban soil some weeks earlier, that has been so far overlooked. During

blockade-runners at Wilmington during our Civil War, it is seen that our work on the Cuban coast was excellent. And it was the dreariest, most wearying, most heart-breaking work of the war. In addition to the blockade work proper, a number of expeditions of Cubans who wished to join the insurgents were landed, with ample supplies, under the guns of our vessels.

Then, to return to Santiago, Admiral Sampson had to report that Lieutenant Harlow, with two launches, one of which was commanded by Cadet Powell and the other by Cadet Hart, made a survey of the little harbor at Cabáñas on the 17th, and were "subjected to a heavy and continued fire at short range." The launches were struck seventeen times.

The Vesuvius ran into Santiago channel one night, passing clear around the sunken Merrimac to learn her exact position. Curiously enough, the Spanish did not see her on this trip.

On the whole, however, so far as decisive work was concerned, our ships in American waters had a quiet time for a month after Sampson reached Santiago. Neither the blockade, nor the fights off San Juan, nor the bombardments of the forts at Santiago (one of which occurred on July 2d) had any marked influence in ending the war.

Nevertheless, our unre