The Battle of Manila Bay

[Don Boyer]

Fellow Forum members. I am in the last stages of completing a small book on the protected cruiser Baltimore, one of the American "new steel navy" ships of the 1880s. Built to plans originally from W.G. Armstrong, Baltimore not only fought in the Battle of Manila Bay, the subject of the following posts, but also serve under RN command in WWI as minelayer out of Lamlash and with the minelayers of the Northern Barrage.

The book is entitled "Manila Bay to Pearl Harbor: The History of the Protected Cruiser Balltimore, 1887 - 1944."

Background

On May 30, 1898, Commodore George Dewey and his small Asiatic Fleet of protected cruisers and gunboats hove to just outside Manila Bay for a Captain's conference. When all the commanders were aboard the flagship, cruiser Olympia, the discussion was about implementing the decision Commodore Dewey had already made -- attacking the Spanish Fleet immediately.

The United States navy was committing its “new steel navy” to combat. For the first time in the American navy it would be combat featuring ships clad entirely in steel instead of wood and iron, armed with rifled breech-loading guns instead of smooth-bore muzzleloaders and fully powered by steam and black coal instead of white sail. The results of this battle would make America a world power instead of a continental power. It would not be an entirely pleasant transition.



7. “CLEAR FOR ACTION!”


“Sink me the ship, Master Gunner-sink
Her, split her in twain!
Fall into the hands of God, not into the
Hands of Spain!”
(Tennyson, “The Revenge”, 1878)

Commodore Dewey ordered the fleet to sortie and form battleline at 7:45 pm, following dinner for the crews. Guns were manned and loaded by 9:45 and battle stations were fully manned by 11:00 as a small rainstorm passed over the ships. At 11:30, with Olympia leading, followed by Baltimore, Petrel, Raleigh, Concord, Boston, Hugh McCulloch, Nanshan and Zafiro, the fleet entered the outer reaches of Manila Bay at 6 knots, trailing lightly phosphorescent wakes and showing only one hooded stern light for navigation.

Several squalls still dotted the horizon to the southwest off the Bataan Peninsula and a few more rain showers crossed the bay, occasionally hiding the new moon and wetting the decks. The ships upped speed to 8 knots entering the Boca Grande channel, widest of the channels into Manila Bay and also the one covered by the most shore batteries, a fact Dewey did not know. He did know about the Spanish mine fields, but chose to ignore them in such deep waters as he headed his fleet for Manila, 25 miles away.

Olympia passed small El Fraile Island (later to become Fort Drum) on the starboard hand before any indications of activity ashore—first a bright flashing signal light from the mainland to the north, followed by a red rocket flaring up from the island of Corregidor to port. Still, no ships were fired on as Olympia made a shallow turn to port, heading northeast by east, directly for the mouth of the Pasig River separating the old and new parts of Manila and well clear of the dangerous San Nicolas Shoals in the eastern part of the bay. The Commodore intended to swing his ships in line across the Manila breakwater in case the Spanish fleet was there, moving on to the naval base at Sangley Point and Cavite next.

As the trailing McCulloch was wearing the channel and Raleigh was abreast El Fraile, an unintentional blast of sparks from McCulloch’s stack (probably brought on by powdery coal or a fouled stack) finally woke somebody up on shore. The shriek and explosion of a shell landing between Petrel and Raleigh followed a stab of flame and a sharp report from one of the three 4.7” guns on El Fraile. Olympia and Baltimore were too far ahead for guns to bear, but Boston replied immediately with one of her 8” guns and McCulloch, Raleigh and Concord also fired a few rounds until the flagship signaled them to stop, preferring to conserve ammunition for the main event. El Fraile fired twice more, ineffectively; neither side suffered any damage. (Later, one of the Spanish on Corregidor reported that Dewey’s fleet had been clearly seen, but no firing orders came from the officers. Such was the state of the Spanish colonial empire on the eve of its demise.)

After the brush with the guns of El Fraile, the fleet was clear of the main channel and speed was dropped to 4 knots to ensure arriving at Manila just after daybreak. The ease of their penetration into the bay was a considerable morale boost for the crews, who had been somewhat anxious to this point. Commodore Dewey ordered “Prepare for general action” at 5:05 am. Hugh McCulloch and the two colliers sheered west out of column into the middle of the bay and out of harm’s way.

[Don Boyer]

At 5:15 the fleet was off Manila as dawn lightened the eastern sky. The masts and yards of many ships and the roof lines of Manila could be dimly made out by the lookouts in Olympia’s foretop. As the sun rose over Manila, the Asiatic Fleet, guns trained out, closed silently on the inner harbor, swinging to starboard one by one behind Olympia while passing along the breakwater fronting Manila. If there were any doubters as to the intent of the Asiatic Fleet up to this point, everyone who could see them now knew these dark gray ships were in battle line and not planning on negotiating with anything other than large - caliber naval rifles. Twenty six battle ensigns flew from the small fleet’s masts.

There were 16 nervous merchant vessels of various nationalities in the inner harbor but no warships, so the Commodore swung his ships around to the southeast, heading for Cavite and closing up the line to 200 yards between ships. (Admiral Montojo had placed his ships at Cavite to avoid having the shells from the battle falling into Manila and to take advantage of the protected position, a decision that avoided civilian casualties but also meant only eight large shore batteries would be in position to support him instead of 39. Considering how shabbily the Admiral had been treated in general by the Spanish civil government, this was truly a gentlemanly old-world gesture on his part.)

As Olympia and her consorts approached Cavite, a pair of mines exploded four miles ahead—lousy timing on someone’s part or, as the Spanish later reported, to clear maneuvering room for their own ships. An old salt aboard Olympia was heard to remark, “They ain’t so good at blowing up ships that come with their fighting clothes on…!” (Quoted in Howarth, p. 254.) Dewey’s response was to signal “Clear for action!” Fifteen minutes later some of the shore batteries and several Spanish ships opened fire, peppering the vicinity of Dewey’s fleet with many rounds that all fell well short, causing no damage or casualties. The Asiatic Fleet did not respond to these opening rounds, as the range was too long.

The line of Spanish ships along Cavite could be clearly seen with their battle ensigns flying—10 ships: the flag, cruiser Reina Christina, with 6-6.4” guns, cruiser Castilla, carrying 4-5.9” guns and the Isla de Cuba and Isla de Luzon, protected cruisers with 6-4.7” guns each. Arrayed with them were the smaller ships—the Velasco, Don Antonio de Uloa and Don Juan de Austria, unprotected cruisers with 4-4.7” guns each and the Marques del Duero, a gunboat with 1-6.4” and 2-4.7” guns.

The General Lezo and El Cano, small gunboats with 2-4.7” guns and 1-3.5” guns completed the fleet. None of these ships were a match for Olympia or Baltimore even when in good condition, which they were not, most being in a poor state of readiness with missing or unworkable armaments, fouled bottoms and defective engines. Their biggest shortcoming was poorly trained and led sailors, whose bravery in action, however, would not be questioned.

The Spanish ships and shore batteries continued shelling without reply from the American ships until 5:41 am, when Commodore Dewey gave his now-famous order to Olympia’s Captain: “You may fire when you are ready, Gridley.” The opening range was about 5500 yards when Olympia’s forward 8” turret opened fire, followed immediately by all the guns on the following ships that would bear. As it always did in the old naval actions, the battle quickly came down to basics—our guns against their guns.

The crash of guns, flames, smoke, and the scream of shells and rumble of tumbling ricochets dominated everything aboard the ships of both sides.
Within a few minutes Olympia turned slightly, unmasking her full port battery and after turret, all quickly joining the battle. The following ships did the same, with Olympia, Baltimore and Raleigh concentrating on the Spanish flagship Reina Christina, which soon suffered massive damage. Most destructive was an early hit on a turret killing or wounding all of four gun crews, the first of at least 162 Spanish killed and 214 wounded in the battle.

At 6:20 Olympia swung around for a second pass along the Spanish line closer in at about 3000 yards. Canacao Bay was already filling with the smoke, flames and secondary explosions from damaged ships and shore batteries, making it difficult to pick out targets. Reina Christina, attempting to sortie about 7:00 am, was promptly engaged by all guns that could bear, particularly from Olympia and Baltimore. With her steering gear shot away, Reina Christina slewed inshore, running aground with fires breaking out along the length of her wooden decks, completely destroying her as her crew abandoned ship. Castilla soon followed Reina Christina in being pounded into a total wreck as the American ships alternated port and starboard batteries, making five passes along the Spanish line, closer in on each pass.

As Olympia ended her fifth pass along the Spanish line, a message was received on the bridge of the flagship indicating ammunition shortages. This was disturbing news, particularly when at only 60% capacity to start with. Dewey ordered his ships to disengage even though Spanish ships were still firing from the smoke-shrouded anchorage and shore batteries were trying to find the range as well. The fleet swung about and gathered in the bay out of range of the guns and the ships hove to for breakfast at the guns and a quick conference. The conference cleared up the ammunition situation—the message had been misunderstood in the heat and noise. The report was of 5" ammunition expended aboard Olympia, not rounds available. Dewey did not change his orders, however, letting the crews get breakfast and a short breather while the guns cooled, some quick repairs were made and the commanders plotted their next moves.

[Don Boyer]

Encouraging reports were received from the other ships. Damage was light and amazingly no one had been killed. (After the battle it was found Olympia had been hit 13 times, 10 in the rigging, without serious damage. Baltimore and Boston were hit 5 times each. Raleigh and Petrel took one hit each, none of the hits causing any serious damage to any of the ships. Baltimore was the only ship to report any injuries.

Aboard Baltimore, Lieutenant F.W. Kellogg, Ensign N.E. Irwin and six men were slightly wounded by shrapnel when a 4.7” armor-piercing shell from the Cavite battery entered at a shallow angle just forward of Baltimore’s starboard gangway aft at the upper deck, ripping up the deck, hitting and exploding 2 3-pdr. shells before passing broadside through both sides of the after engine room hatch and then ricocheting around inside the gun shield of the number 4 port 6” gun, breaking a mounting bolt for the port cylinder.

After this dazzling ballet, the shell flew out and hit one of the port ventilators, finally ending up spinning to a stop on deck amidships. One sailor was knocked unconscious by the concussion of the shell passing close by his head. Failing to explode, the shell was gingerly tossed overboard, accompanied by the blessings of the entire crew.

The other hits on Baltimore were “...a shell striking just above the berth deck, hitting the exhaust pipe of the starboard blower; a third struck a [coal] bunker, two feet above the waterline and exploded in it, doing no damage; a fourth entered six feet above the berth deck and brought up in a clothes locker; ...a fifth hit the [port] forward ventilator.” (Wilson, p. 148, and Baltimore’s log.) Baltimore’s log also shows Lee rifle #2286 lost overboard, which probably meant some sailor or marine was then in extreme disfavor with the gunnery sergeant of the ship’s Marine Detachment unless he happened to be one of the wounded. The fire of the after 8" guns also destroyed the upper cabin skylight, the after rangefinder and two of the whaleboats in their davits. Other American ships reported similar minor damage due to both enemy fire and the concussion of their own guns.

One man died aboard Hugh McCulloch, but was not directly a battle casualty—he reportedly died of a heart attack brought on by heat exhaustion from working in the incredibly hot engineering spaces that were buttoned up for battle. (Also not a battle casualty, Olympia’s Captain Gridley collapsed shortly after the fight and later died at Yokosuka, Japan awaiting transportation home.)

Commodore Dewey received his captain’s reports, some concerning troubles with the guns, particularly failures in the electric firing systems. Boston also reported breech plugs for the 6” and 8” guns had expanded with the heat of rapid firing and were difficult to close. This was very dangerous for the gunners, who had continued rapid fire anyway. Baltimore reported minor problems with wedge blocks, springs, extractors and other firing gear for her guns. While this must have caused concern to mount captains and gunners, they obviously did their job well despite the fouling equipment, as the post-battle tallies showed.

Although battle damage to the Spanish ships was hard to determine accurately in the smoke and mess of Canacao Bay, Dewey knew that the Spanish had been badly hurt; he also knew that American gunnery had not been very accurate. It was, however, more than sufficient this day. At 11:16 Dewey ordered his fleet to resume the attack. Baltimore, with the best remaining shell inventory, led the second sortie by virtue of having gotten underway early to investigate a vessel entering harbor, which turned out to be the British mail steamer Esmeralda. Seeing a large cruiser, guns trained out, bearing down on her rapidly, the Esmeralda emphatically identified herself while hastily hauling clear.

Baltimore, receiving Dewey’s signal to sortie, picked up speed, coming about to re-engage the enemy while the Hugh McCulloch took over escorting the relieved Esmeralda away from the battle area.

Returning to the battle line and closing in to point-blank range of Cavite and it’s two small bays, Baltimore’s crew could now clearly see for the first time the tremendous damage that had already been done—nearly all the Spanish ships had been sunk, scuttled by their crews or were in flames. Shore batteries had been shredded and many abandoned. Regardless, Baltimore opened round two at 2800 yards with an assault on the remaining upright ships and the 5.9” shore batteries at Sangley point, followed by Olympia. Baltimore crept in to 2200 yards where Captain Dyer ordered her to dead slow, steadying up on the last upright ships. “Her fire was slow, careful, accurate and destructive.” (Wilson, p. 139.)

[Don Boyer]

Thirty minutes later, only the Don Antonio de Uloa was still firing; smothered by hits from Baltimore, she burst into flames, rolled over and sank with her flag still flying. While the remaining ships were being dealt with the fleet also took on any other shore batteries they could reach, destroying several gun batteries and causing a mass exodus from the vicinity of others.

At 12:30 another flag was flying—a white one, raised over the naval armory at Cavite. The Spanish naval forces had surrendered after gallantly defending the honor of empire and, more importantly, absorbing some 72 tons of ordnance and losing every warship they had (an extra ship, the transport Isla de Mindanao had also been accounted for).

Baltimore delivered more ordnance than any other vessel in the battle, expending 35,750 pounds of 8-inch, 6-inch and smaller rounds. (Her log shows 73—8” common, 145—6” common, 410--6-pdr. common and steel, and 1,782—1-pdr. common and steel rounds expended, totaling 2,410 shells.) Captain Dyer’s stern insistence on training and practice turned 404 officers and men into an excellent sailing and gunnery team for this battle—Baltimore’s greatest combat achievement.

Captain Beach, in a letter to the author of May 1997, provided a lighter note concerning his father’s actions aboard Baltimore during the battle:

"Dad was put in charge of communications between the engineering spaces and the deck topside where the action was going on, and according to his version found himself forced to make up news to keep the people down below abreast of the battle when he, himself, could see nothing and had no immediate knowledge of it. So he invented a whole series of wonderful descriptions of the combat, probably his first essay into fiction (he later wrote a number of novels about the Navy), and after the battle was accused of having sunk at least three times as many Spanish ships as Admiral Dewey’s whole squadron had managed to put away. He also claimed to have been the only one to predict the dimensions of the Spanish debacle, taking and winning all bets as to the number of ships sunk and casualties on our side: no ships sunk and nobody killed."

[Captain Beach is the famous naval author Captain Edward L. Beach, whose father, of the same name, was Junior Engineering Officer aboard Baltimore.]

When the white flag went up, Commodore Dewey sent the shallow-draft Petrel and Concord to the inner harbor at Cavite to ensure scuttling or capturing any remaining vessels, Petrel accomplishing this task in short order while the rest of the fleet disengaged. The smaller ships were soon involved in rescuing the Spanish crews. Olympia and Baltimore headed for Manila proper while Raleigh and Boston remained off Cavite, remaining in gun range and covering the two smaller ships. In passing, the ships dealt with any of the shore batteries they could reach, as some of them were still firing—the Spanish navy had surrendered, but the Spanish army ashore had not. The guns were destroyed or abandoned; some of the working guns were re-manned as soon as the ships got a little farther out of range.

With the silencing of the guns the Spanish fleet in the Pacific was no more and the Spanish empire was soon to follow. America had moved up from being a continental power to being a world power, acquiring an Asian colony that would initially cause far more problems than dealing with the Spanish.

Acquiring the Philippines meant that America’s aspirations would now rub shoulder to shoulder with those of an emerging Japan as well as those of the established eastern empires of the major European nations. As Bradley A. Fiske wrote in a 1925 letter: “The battle of Manila Bay was one of the most important ever fought. It decided that the United States should start in a direction in which it had never traveled before. It placed the United States in the family of great nations.” (Heinl, p.179.)

The Commodore deserves great credit not only for the conduct of the naval battle but for also correctly gauging as overblown the alarming reports of the heavy defenses of Manila, and even more for correctly estimating the actual fighting value of the Spanish and their weapons. These facts would not have been apparent at the time to a casual observer. Much has been written after the battle about the ease of Dewey’s victory, somewhat akin to shooting fish in a barrel rather than a true salty broadside-to-broadside engagement of relative equals on the high seas as in the days of Nelson’s Band of Brothers or Beatty’s battlecruisers.

This overlooks the fact that it might not have been that way—with persistence, money and some hard work the Spanish “fish” could have been most dangerous sharks in line of battle and not anchored. Dewey had no way to know for certain the exact condition of the opposing fleet beforehand despite some good intelligence data. He took a considerable risk in attacking a fleet in a harbor surrounded by military forts and guns, many of which would be behind him if he did succeed in penetrating the harbor.

The successful battle would now require the United States to deal with some new questions no battle could answer—how would a democracy handle the desires of the Filipino people for the same self-determination and freedoms found in America? American politicians and policy would have serious failures in this respect for many years, reflecting a lack of preparation for assuming colonial powers for the first time in addition to the more serious errors of racism and religious and social hubris, not the least unlike their British predecessors and many other European colonialists. The Japanese would be no different when their turn came.

These would not be Commodore Dewey’s concerns of the moment, however.