Battles of the Nineteenth Century, Page 139.

First Attacks on Santiago

            The British consul at Santiago in May 1898 was the late Mr. Frederick W. Ramsden, plucky intervention, stopped and massacre of the Virginius expedition after the execution of the first victims.  We are indebted to his diary, published after his laminated death, for an inner view of the siege of Santiago.

            On Wednesday the 18^th of May, he noted in his journal that two American steamers and a large armed yacht were off the port.  They seemed to be dragging for the telegraph cable, and they came so close that the Morro batteries fired some shots at them, to which they replied, without effect on either side.  In the afternoon they went away.  If they had held on for another twelve hours they would have had important news.  For as the sun rose on the Thursday morning Cervera’s fleet, the four big cruisers and the two destroyers, steamed in past the Morro and anchored in the inner bay.  The American ships were some miles away to the eastward towards Guantanamo, and had amused themselves by exchanging some shots with a new shore battery at Playa del Este.  Had they devoted themselves to watching Santiago they would have done better service, for it was not till many days later that the United States Government felt really certain that Admiral Cervera was in the port.

             It is true that the Admiral had at once reported his arrival to Blanco at Havana, and the Marshal had a promptly cabled the news to Madrid.  There it was communicated officially to the press and the public, and there was as much rejoicing as if the Admiral had won a great victory.  Nor was this popular exultation unreasonable.  The fact that Cervera had again and again eluded the more numerous American squadrons, indirectly force them to relax their watch on Havana, thrown all their plans into confusion, and reached the West Indian Seas in spite of them, was taken as an earnest of further exploits to be performed by the swift and powerful squadron which had given new hope to Spain.

           This official news did not, however, satisfy the Government at Washington at to Cervera’s real position.  They remembered the story of his return to Cadiz.  This report that he was in Santiago might, after all, prove to be only another ruse to facilitate his entrance into another port or a new raid in some unexpected direction.  Nor were they quite certain as to what force he had with him.  There was known to be a second Spanish squadron firing out at Cadiz and Cartagena under Admiral Camara, which was to include the battleship Pelayo, two or three armoured cruisers and a torpedo flotilla, and, after the uncertainties and anxieties of the past few days, no one felt quite sure that some of these might not be already slipping across the Atlantic.  The story that Cervera was in Santiago might in such a case be intended to facilitate his junction elsewhere with these reinforcements.  The American Naval Intelligence system had quite broken down.  And the strangest point of all was that, with insurgent bands under Garcia holding points of vantage in the hills of the Santiago district and hundreds of active sympathisers with the movement in the city itself, no reliable information was sent to the United States fleet for days to come, and yet all the time there lay the great warships in sight of the city, and the Governments of Havana and of Madrid had published the tidings of their arrival to the world.  It was not till the 24^th-five days after Cervera’s arrival-that the Washington Government felt assured that he was really at Santiago.  Till then they doubted that he had ever been there, or supposed that he had at most made a visit of a few hours.  As late as the evening of the 23^rd it was supposed he was somewhere off the south coast of Cuba, between Santiago and Cienfuegos.

             These days of uncertainty were a precious opportunity for the Spanish admiral, but he showed himself strangely inactive from the moment that his cruisers ran into their land locked harbour of refuge.  To his intense disappointment, he found that supplies of all kinds at Santiago were scanty.  The Spanish Admirralty and War Office had failed to realise the possible importance of the place, and while they had been hurrying men, guns, and stores to Havana in the weeks before the war, they had done nothing for the eastern capital of Cuba.  There was a weak garrison, which had its pay in arrear and its magazines half empty.  Food was dear, and there was no large reserve of coal in the port.  A little energy would have remedied this last deficiency, for there was no blockade as yet, and steam colliers for the fleet were actually in West Indian waters.  On the Saturday evening, the second day after the cruisers came in, the merchants of the city gave a banquet to the officers, and there was a scene of great enthusiasm and confident predictions of victory.  So far the only sign of the Americans had been a cruiser that steamed past the harbour mouth well out to sea, in the early part of the day, and was apparently watching the port.  On the Sunday the cruiser appeared with another consort, and lay in sight of Morro for hours; but there was no firing.  If Cervera had had a little more dash he would have sent his torpedo boats to attack these isolated scouts of his enemy as soon as evening came on.  On the Monday a third cruiser appeared, and a fourth came in sight at noon.  They were the ships of Schley’s squadron, which had been sent to keep a watch on Santiago and the Windward Passage.

               All day the Spanish fleet was busy taken on board coal, provisions, and fresh water.  The general impression in Santiago was that the Admiral meant to get away.  Santiago, though strong against attack, was not a good place to be caught in by a superior fleet.  For though it would be easy to keep an enemy from getting in through the narrow rift in the cliffs, it was also easy for the hostile fleet to watch and concentrate its guns upon that one narrow pass.  All Tuesday the Spanish fleet had steam up, and the destroyers were just inside the harbour mouth.  It was a day of heavy tropical rain, sometimes almost blinding in its intensity, and it would have been just the time to dash out, engage the American cruisers, and sweep away under cover of the driving rainsqualls.  Next day occurred an incident which it itself was enough to make the friends of Spain in Santiago despair of the Admiral ever doing anything effective.  It had best be told in the words of Consul Ramsden’s diary, which gives the impression of the moment.

            “At daybreak three steamers were signalled outside the port, and soon after they put out the signal, ‘The enemy is giving chase to a vessel,’ and later on, ‘There is one of the enemy’s ships outside.’  There is probably more than one, but there is so much haze, owing to the rain, and it is so thick, that they cannot possibly see any distance.  The vessel chased by the enemy is probably an English steamer bringing 3,000 tons of coal for the Spanish navy, and the Cristobal Colon got under weigh, and it was supposed that she would go out and prevent her capture by the Americans-probably an easy matter, since her (the Colon’s) speed is over eighteen knots, and the American steamers are said to be simply mail steamers, fitted with guns.  The Colon, however, simply went down the bay and anchored near the entrance.  The destroyers were also down near the entrance.  The flagship, at midday, went down to Cajuma Bay, and has anchored there; and another ironclad, either the Vizcaya or the Oquendo, has taken her place at the Juragua wharf, and is talking in water.  It is said that the Americans have taken their prize, whatever it is, and have carried her off.  It seems incredible that this should have been allowed right in front of the port, and the squadron inside with steam up.  It looks as if the fleet did not intend to move from this port, as it is evidently taking up a position near the entrance, so as to command it in case of attack.”

             It was, indeed, incredible that the fleet should allow its collier to be thus taken under its very eyes, at a moment when coal was all-important, without even attempting to assist her to get in.  Yet this was what happened, and equally incredible things were to happen later on.  But for all that, Cervera and his captains were as brave men as ever stepped on to the deck of a warship.  Bravery, however, is not the greatest of a commander’s qualifications.  Without readiness for chances of successful action, it is more likely to lead to disaster than success.

            It was, indeed incredible that the fleet should allow its collier to be thus taken under its very eyes, at a moment when coal was all-important without even attempting to assist her to get in.  Yet this was what happened, and equally incredible things were to happen later on.  But for all that, Cervera and his captains were as brave men as ever stepped on to the deck of a warship.  Bravery, however, is not the greatest of a commander’s qualifications.  Without a certain energetic initiative, and a watchful readiness for chances of successful action, it is more likely to lead to disaster than success.

            Let us now turn to what the Americans were doing.  Commodore Schley’s squadron had run down south as soon as it was known that the Spaniards had reached West Indian waters.  Besides some smaller ships, he had within him the powerful armoured cruiser Brooklyn, which carried his flag; the battleships Texas and Massachusetts, the swift cruisers Minneapolis and Columbia, and several of the armed liners.  He detached the Columbia to patrol the North Atlantic coast, for there were vague rumours of Spanish cruisers making for northern waters.  The Harvard, the Yale, and the St. Paul were cruising in the Windward Passage and along the east end of Cuba.  The heavier ships entered the Yucatan Channel.  On the 18^th Sampson came into Key West, and Schley steamed along the southern coast of Cuba, looking into Cienfuegos, where a fresh crop of rumours now placed Cervera’s fleet.  The Iowa, detached from Sampson’s squadron to strengthen his colleague, joined Schley off that port.  On the afternoon of Sunday, the 22^nd, Cienfuegos was closely reconnoitred, and it was definitely ascertained that there was nothing bigger than a gunboat in the port.  The fleet then steamed slowly eastward, picking up on its way the cruisers that had been blockading the south coast, and sweeping with the scouts the waters of the Caribbean Sea.  No credence was as yet attached to the report that Cervera was at anchor at Santiago.

             This reconnaissance of Cienfuegos came just a month after the day on which Sampson’s fleet had first appeared before Havana.  So far, the course of the war in the Atlantic had been distinctly disappointing for the United States, all the more disappointing because early and brilliant success had been so confidently predicted at the outset.

            There had been only one real victory of the least importance, and that had been won, not by the powerful Atlantic fleets, but by Dewey’s squadron in the far-off Philippines, and even there the full fruits of victory had not yet been reaped.  Manila was still defiant, and the Pacific squadron was anxiously waiting for reinforcements before attempting to follow its first good fortune.  The record of the war in the West Indies had nothing to show but indecisive bombardments like the attacks on Matanzas and San Juan, and repeated failures to directly co-operate with the insurgents.  These had affected nothing whatever since the war began.  Blanco held Havana with a large army, and it was recognised that it would be a piece of rashness to assail him in his stronghold.  Cervera had baffled all the precautions taken by the navy, ad had reached the West Indies, and Schley was still searching of his exact position.  Even the efforts mad to cut the telegraphic communications of the Spaniards had failed.  One day it was announced that the Cienfuegos cables were cur, and that Blanco could no longer communicate with Madrid and the rest of the world.  The very next day the New York papers contained Spanish messages sent to Madrid over these very cables, via Cienfuegos.  Then the War Department had as yet no army ready for the field beyond the regular regiments, which were under arms when the war began.  There was a deficiency of organisation and a woeful lack of transports at Tampa.  All that had been done for the much talked of invasion of Cuba was the landing of a small body of refugees with a supply of arms near Banes, in the east end of the island.  The filibusters had accomplished as much, and more, before the war was declared.

            It is easy to understand the eagerness of the Atlantic fleet to put an end to this record of inaction and comparative failure.  Schley hoped to meet and fight the enemy in the Caribbean Sea.  The very eagerness of his hope made him at first reluctant to believe that the Spanish admiral had shut himself up in Santiago.  It was one of Shley’s gunboats, the Scorpion that watched the entrance to the bay on the Sunday morning after Cervera ran in.  It was one of his armed liners, the St. Paul, commanded by Captains Sigsbee, of the Maine, that chased and captured the collier in sight of Morro Castle on May 25^th, when the Spaniards were so strangely inactive.  The captured ship was a British steamer, the Restormel, laden with coal, and though there was not any actual blockade of Santiago proclaimed, the fact that her cargo was contraband of war destined for the Spanish fleet made her a good prize.  The Restormel had been chartered to deliver her cargo at San Juan.  Then her destination was changed to Curacoa, where she was to meet Cervera.  When she arrived there the fleet had gone, and the Spanish Consul sent her on to Santiago.  The fact that she was making for the port when captured was taken to be an indication that Cervera really was there.  From Jamaica came news that a British merchant steamer, the Adula, ad seen the fleet entering the port, and Schley felt all these indications confirmed the original report from Madrid.  On Friday May 27^th, he concentrated his squadron off Santiago.

            On the following day he was able to telegraph to Washington that, although he had no personal knowledge as yet of the fact, the information he had collected made him certain at last that Cervera was in the harbour.  On the Tuesday, the last day of the month, he determined to make a reconnaissance in force, draw the fire of the batteries, and perhaps induce the enemy’s cruisers to show themselves.  A little after 2 p.m. he approached the entrance with five of his most powerful ships.  He led the way himself in the battleship Massachusetts.  Then came the new armoured cruiser, the New Orleans.  Evans in the Iowa brought up the rear.  Coming in to a range of four miles, the five ships steamed past the entrance, then turned ad re-passed it at closer range at the Cristobal Colon, of which they caught a brief view as they passed the narrow opening in the cliffs.  The batteries of Morro and Socapa answered them.  The Colon opened with her quick firers, and a heavy battery at Punta Gorda sent it shells out to sea over the intervening hill.  Consul Ramsden, who watched the fight from the look out station, thus describes the brief engagement: -

             “At 2.30 p.m. firing began, and we began to see shells falling around the Maria Teresa, Oquendo, and Vizcaya, moored in Cajuma Bay.  None touched the ships, but on falling into the bay they raised a column of water about forty feet high, just like a waterspout.  Firing lasted from half past two until ten minutes past three, when it ceased.  It seems that five of the American ships came up to the entrance of the harbour, with another transatlantic boat accompanying them, the other vessels, remaining a mile or so further off.  They fired through the entrance at the Cristobal Colon, which was lying in Gaspar Inlet and was visible, and also fired shells over the hills at the outer ships which they could not see, but they did no damage to anyone or anything beyond knocking off a piece of staircase of the Morro.  The Colon replied with several broadsides, and they tell me she fired 180 shots, and they claim to have hit the transatlantic boat.  Punta Gorda fort and the Socapa one, and the Morro, also returned the fire, and that of the Socapa, which has two Hontoria guns taken from the Reina Mercedes, the only guns good for anything in all the forts, claims to have put two shells on the stern, perhaps astern, of the Iowa.  I do not believe the Iowa is there, but that it is the Amazon.  They say she reeled to one side, and the others sent off their boats to her.  Anyhow, the ships hauled off after that shot, and fire no more.  This little event broke the monotony of the blockading business, and aroused the people, who flocked down to see it.  No one seemed to be the least alarmed, but took it rather as a joke.”

            This matter-of-fact record contrasts curiously with the contemporary newspaper reports of the enormous damage done by the bombardment.  The Spaniards were equally mistaken in their idea that they had done any harm to the fleet.  None of the ships were hit.  Schley had, however effected all he intended.  He had drawn the fire of the shore batteries, and the fact that the Cristobal Colon had been actually seen in action was taken to be the final confirmation of the theory that Cervera was inside.

            It was known that there were two torpedo boats of the destroyer class with the Spanish admiral.  The third of Villamil’s flotilla, the Terror, had remained at Martinique for repairs, and had succeeded in making her way thence to San Juan in Puerto Rico.  But the two that were left, if boldly used under the cover of darkness, might prove dangerous foes to the blockading fleet.  So each night the electric searchlights were turned on the harbour mouth, and men slept beside the quick firers and machine guns on the cruisers and battleships.  Such a state of things produces a certain nervous “jumpiness” even in peace manoeuvres, and no wonder that on the night after the first bombardment there was wild excitement when the Texas suddenly opened fire and the word ran through every ship that the Spanish destroyers had come out.  The narrative of the fight, as it was telegraphed to the American press, is worth reproducing verbatim.  Thus it ran: -

            “The first engagement between Commodore Schley and the Spanish fleet, commanded by admiral Cervera, took place last night.  Two torpedo-boat destroyers about midnight slipped quietly out of the harbour, bent on mischief.  They crept along in the shadow of old Castle Morro and the mountain for two miles to the westward before they were discovered by the look out on the Texas, where the men were sleeping by the guns, so that the battleship could be quickly manned.  An instant after the lookout gave the alarm the white stream of the Texas’s searchlight flashed along the shadow under the mountain, revealing the desperate game of the imprisoned Spaniards.  The torpedo boat destroyers, when they saw that they had been discovered, dashed towards the Texas, which, with the cruiser Brooklyn close beside it, was lying ashore.  The Texas promptly opened fire with her port-forward batteries and her crack six pounders, and the hiss of the armour-piercing shells thrown in the direction of the advancing torpedo boat destroyers startled the entire fleet.  The Brooklyn also came into action, firing several rounds at the Spanish craft, but the bulk of the shooting was done by the Texas.  The entire fleet went to general quarters, and soon their searchlights were playing around the narrow entrance of the harbour in the expectation that Admiral Cervera’s whole fleet would emerge from its haven and fight it out.  The torpedo boat destroyers made a plucky dash through the rain of shells battleship and cruiser, but, foiled in their attempt to surprise the watchful Schley, turned and ran back into the harbour.  No attempt was made to pursue them.  It is thought that they were not struck, as they retreated quickly and made small targets in the uncertain moonlight.  The Spaniards did not discharge any torpedoes, although within 500 yards of the Texas.” 

            No wonder the Spaniards did not discharge any torpedoes.  They were lying quietly at anchor all the time inside Morillo Point, their crews wondering what the Americans were firing at.  What the look out on the Texas had seen was a shadow made by the searchlights, perhaps the dark hollow of a curling wave.  Once the alarm begins on such occasions even the best-trained men see and fire at all manner of things.  It was weeks before it was discovered that the fight at the end of May was only a false alarm.