CHAPTER XXVII THE GREAT VICTORY OF MANILA BAY Dewey Destroys a Fleet Without Losing a Man

Dewey was sent to the Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland, and when the Civil War began he was a lieutenant in the navy. He was with Farragut on the Mississippi, and did some gallant deeds on that great river.

When the war with Spain began Dewey was on the Chinese coast with a squadron of American ships. He had been raised in rank and was Commodore Dewey then. A commodore, you should know, was next above a captain and next below an admiral.

Commodore Dewey had four fine ships, the cruisers Olympia, Baltimore, Raleigh, and Boston. He had also two gunboats and a despatch-boat, making seven in all.

These vessels were at Hong Kong, a British seaport in China. They could not stay there after war with Spain was declared, for Hong Kong was a neutral port, and after war begins fighting ships must leave neutral ports. But Dewey knew where to go, for under the ocean and over the land there had come to him a telegram from Washington, more than ten thousand miles away, which said, "Seek the Spanish fleet and capture or destroy it." Dewey did not waste any time in obeying orders.

He knew where to seek the Spanish fleet. A few hundred miles away to the east of China lay the fine group of islands called the Philippines, which then belonged to Spain. In Luzon, the biggest of these islands, was the fine large City of Manila, the centre of the Spanish power in the East. So straight across the China Sea Dewey went at all speed towards this seaport of Spain.

On the morning of Saturday, April 30, 1898, the men on the leading ship saw land rising in the distance, green and beautiful, and farther away they beheld the faint blue lines of the mountains of Luzon. Down this green tropical coast they sped, and when night was near at hand they came close to the entrance of Manila Bay.

Here there were forts to pass; and the ships were slowed up. Dewey was ready to fight with ships, but he did not want to fight with forts, so he waited for darkness to come before going in. He thought that he might then pass these forts without being seen by the men in them.

They waited until near midnight, steaming slowly along until they came to the entrance to the bay. The moon was in the sky, but gray clouds hid its light. They could see the two dark headlands of the harbor's mouth rising and, between them, a small, low island. On this island were the forts which they had to pass.

As they came near, all the lights on the ships were put out or hidden, except a small electric light at the stern of each ship, for the next one to see and follow.

Steam was put on, and the ships glided swiftly and silently in, like shadows in the darkness. All was silent in the Spanish forts. The sentinels seemed fast asleep.

Some of the ships had passed before the Spaniards waked up. Then a rocket shot up into the air, and there came a deep boom and a flash of flame. A shell went whizzing through the darkness over the ships and plunged into the water beyond.

Some shots were fired back, but in a few minutes it was all over and Dewey's squadron was safe in Manila Bay. The gallant American sailors had made their way into the lion's den.

The Bay of Manila is a splendid body of water, running many miles into the land. The City of Manila is about twenty miles from the harbor's mouth, and the ships had to go far in before its distant lights were seen, gleaming like faint stars near the earth.

But it was not the city Dewey was after. He was seeking the Spanish fleet. When the dawn came, and the sun rose behind the city, he saw sails gleaming in its light. But these were merchant vessels, not the warships he had come so far to find.

The keen eyes of the commodore soon saw the ships he was after. There they lay, across the mouth of the little bay of Cavite, south of the city, a group of ships-of-war, nine or ten in number.

This brings us to the beginning of the great naval battle of the war. Let us stop now and take a look around. If you had been there I know what you would have said. You would have said that the Americans were sure to win, for they had the biggest ships and the best guns. Yes, but you must remember that the Spaniards were at home, while the Americans were not; and that makes a great difference. If they had met out on the open sea Dewey would have had the best of the game. But here were the Spanish ships drawn up in a line across a narrow passage, with a fort on the right and a fort on the left, and with dynamite mines under the water. And they knew all about the distances and soundings and should have known just how to aim their guns so as to hit a mark at any distance. All this the Americans knew nothing about.

When we think of this it looks as if Dewey had the worst of the game. But some of you may say that the battle will tell best which side had the best and which the worst. Yes, that's true; but we must always study our players before we begin our game.

George Dewey did not stop long to think and study. He was there to take his chances. The minute he saw the Spanish ships he went for them as a football player goes for the line of his opponents.

Forward went the American squadron, with the Stars and Stripes floating proudly at every mast-head. First of all was the flagship Olympia, with Dewey standing on its bridge. Behind came the other ships in a long line.

As they swept down in front of the city the great guns of the forts sent out their balls. Then the batteries on shore began to fire. Then the Spanish ships joined in. There was a terrible roar. Just in front of the Olympia two mines exploded, sending tons of water into the air. But they had been set off too soon, and no harm was done.

All this time the American ships swept grandly on, not firing a gun; and Dewey stood still on the bridge while shot and shell from the Spanish guns went hurling past. He was there to see, and danger did not count just then.

As they drove on an old sea-dog raised the cry, "Remember the Maine!" and in a minute the shout ran through the ship. Still on went the Olympia, like a great mastiff at which curs are barking. At length Dewey spoke,—

"You may fire when you are ready, Captain Gridley," he said. Captain Gridley was ready and waiting. In an instant a great eight-inch shell from the Olympia went screaming through the air.

This was the signal. The Baltimore and the Boston followed, and before five minutes had passed every ship was pouring shot and shell on the Spanish squadron and forts. Great guns and small guns, slow-fire guns and rapid-fire guns, hand guns and machine guns, all boomed and barked together, and their shot whistled and screamed, until it sounded like a mighty carnival of death.

Down the Spanish line swept the American ships. Then they turned and swept back, firing from the other side of the ships. Six times, this way, they passed the Spanish ships, while the air was full of great iron balls and dense clouds of smoke floated over all.

You will not ask which side had the best of the battle after I tell you one thing. The Americans had been trained to aim and fire, and the Spaniards had not. Here overhead flew a Spanish shell. There another plunged into the water without reaching a ship. Hardly one of them reached its mark. Not an American was killed or wounded. A box of powder went off and hurt a few men, and that was all.

But the Spanish ships were rent and torn like deer when lions get among them, and their men fell by dozens at a time. It was one of the most one-sided fights ever seen.

Admiral Montojo, of the Spanish fleet, could not stand this. He started out with his flagship, named the Reina Cristina, straight for the Olympia, which he hoped to cut in two. But as soon as his ship appeared all the American ships turned their guns on it, and riddled it with a frightful storm of iron.

The brave Spaniard saw that his ship would be sunk if he went on. He turned to run back, but as he did so a great eight-inch shell struck his ship in the stern and went clear through to the bow, scattering death and destruction on every side. It exploded one of the boilers. It blew open the deck. It set the ship on fire. White smoke came curling up. The ship fought on as the fire burned, but she was past hope.

Two torpedo-boats came out, but they could not stand the storm any better than the Reina Cristina. In a few minutes one of them was cut through and went like a stone to the bottom. The other ran in faster than she had come out and went ashore.

For two hours this dreadful work went on. Then Dewey thought it was time to give his men a rest and let them have some breakfast, so he steamed away. Three of the Spanish ships were burning like so much tinder, and it was plain that the battle was as good as won.

A little after eleven o'clock the American ships came back fresh as ever, all of them with the Stars and Stripes afloat. The Spanish flag was flying too, but nearly every ship was in flames. But the Spaniards were not whipped yet. They began to fire again, and so for another hour the fight went on. At the end of that time the guns were silenced, the flags had gone down, and the battle was won.

That was the end of the most one-sided victory in the history of the American navy. All the Spanish ships were on fire and had sunk in the shallow bay. Hundreds of their men were dead or wounded. The American ships were nearly as good as ever, for hardly a shot had struck them, and only eight men were slightly hurt. The Spaniards had fired fast enough, but they had wasted nearly all their shot.

When the people of the United States heard of this great victory they were wild with delight. Before that very few had heard of George Dewey; now he was looked on as one of our greatest naval heroes. "Dewey on the bridge," with shot and shell screaming about him, was as fine a figure as "Farragut in the shrouds" had once been.

Congress made him a rear-admiral at once, and soon after they made him an admiral. This is the highest rank in the American navy. Only Farragut and Porter had borne it before.

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