Ch 13: To Santiago

For perhaps two minutes there was a lull in the firing; then our shouts of triumph were drowned by a crash as of thunder, as every fort and house on the outskirts of Santiago, and the main lines of defence extended in three rows before the city, opened up on the outworks it had cost us so much to storm.
   Wounded and dead Spaniards were strewn along the ridge. The hard clay of the hill had made revetments unnecessary, but the perpendicular trenches, backed by a second rampart before the fort, had impeded their retreat and caused the only serious loss from our fire. On the berm of the trench Captain Venancia Raga lay shot through the hips. As our first line passed over the ridge, Lieutenant Ord, pointing at the Spaniard with his revolver, shouted, "Carry that officer to the rear." Mistaking the action, Raga threw up his pistol and shot Ord through the head. Thus died the most conspicuously brave officer of the war. The soldiers, enraged at the unintentional treachery, poured a volley into the Spaniard as they passed on. The Spanish flag was torn down from the fort by Agnew of the 13th, and the pennants of the 6th and 64th Infanteria were captured by the 6th Cavalry. The 16th, 6th, 9th, 13th, and 24th Infantry formed along the captured ridge, while Pearson's Brigade, 10th, 21st, and 2nd Infantry, which had extended on the extreme left, swept over a succeeding ridge, driving in a second outpost of the enemy.
   Despite the terrible fire raging from Santiago, the eager soldiers passed beyond San Juan, clinging to available coyer, and shooting with little fire discipline, at the trenches dug in the hillside leading up to the city. In reserve behind the trees Colonel Sierra had two squadrons of Light Cavalry. Noticing the weakness of the American line, now greatly depleted by wounded and their helpers, and the scattered formation of the various companies that had advanced wildly beyond the ridge, General Linares ordered the cavalry to charge down the road and flank the lines in the valley. Such an onslaught would have proved disastrous to our advance. But their uniforms showed through the trees as they mounted, a volley was fired into them, and despite the efforts of Major Irles and others, they wheeled and galloped into the city, losing very heavily as their rear became even more dangerous than the firing line. So thick was the cover that the American officers knew nothing of the foiled charge, though I followed the line of retreat later by the carcasses of accoutred horses, torn clothing and discarded equipment.
   At this juncture General Linares fell wounded, and Toral assumed command of the Spanish army. The San Juan fort was now the objective of the enemy's fire, and their accurate shells drove out the occupants. The volleys along the whole front grew more steady and regular, and General Hawkins, realizing the uselessness of irregularly facing the entire Spanish army, ordered the "rally" sounded. The eager soldiers then fell back to the ridge they had captured, and entrenched themselves along the crest. The cavalry had also advanced impetuously beyond the hill, and retired reluctantly to its shelter. As they hurriedly entrenched, the enemy poured from the woods, and finding cover behind rocks and along hedges, fired steady volleys that would have proved terribly effectual when the troopers were beyond the hill, and probably have driven the American lines back demoralised.
   With Nicholls and MacDowell, I had lain behind the disused sugar-kettles at Marianje, against which bullets rang incessantly. The engine house there was turned into a temporary hospital, and a terrible fire was soon raging against it. Crawling along the advanced ridge, I could see the Spaniards creeping forward, and the recapture of the position from our thin lines seemed imminent. General Sumner and Colonel Wood both sent to General Kent for infantry reinforcements, and the gallant 13th was moved to the right to support the cavalry. At this time an advance was also made against San Juan, the enemy having the advantage of a gentle slope and excellent cover. But as we watched the straw hats bobbing, and an occasional swarthy face, the whole cavalry division reverted from individual firing to rapid volleys, a machine gun turned loose, the infantry on our left were responding strongly, and the enemy withdrew to their first line of entrenchments with loss.
   Opposing us on the hillside forming Santiago's outskirts, the chain of forts, blockhouses, and fortified houses, and succeeding rows of trenches were held by the 1st Battalion Asia Regiment, 1st Puerto Rico Provisionals, 1st San Fernando, historic with Serrano's charge at San Pedro; 1st Constitucion and 2nd Talavera Regiments, two companies of Heavy Artillery, one battery of light artillery, and two companies of engineers. Two companies of Guardia civil, a battalion of Irregulars (Guerillas), nineteen hundred volunteers and three hundred enrolled firemen formed the reserves, and with the Caballeria del Key brought the force up to eight thousand men. The centre was augmented by twelve hundred marines from the Spanish fleet and four machine guns.
   From Dos Caminos on the north to Punta Blanca on the coast. These lines were strengthened by thirteen forts surrounding the city. Fort San Antonio boasted three bronze guns, and Santa Inez one. Two of the three guns at San Ursula were doing effective shelling under Colonel Ordonez, wounded during the afternoon. Four bronze guns at El Sueno were poorly worked through lack of gunners, and the three guns at Fort Nuevo, which almost enfiladed Pearson's brigade on the left, fired few shots effectively. During the afternoon one Hontoria also was mounted under fire before the city. Toral had little ammunition for his guns, and at Canadas rusty chain shot, piled as relics on the Plaza, were utilised.
   As I crawled along the ridges, I was surprised to find so few of the enemy's dead at San Juan, which had cost us so terribly to capture. I saw but sixteen and the highest estimate was thirty. Some wounded begged pitifully to be spared when one approached, but the dead were comparatively few. Having gauged direction from the balloon, the enemy had poured down their merciless fire without exposure from volleys returned from two hundred feet below. Had the impetuous Latins waited in their position, they could have swept off the exhausted Americans as they gained the summit, and the victory evolved from the egregious blunder of July 1st might have had a different sequel.
   The capture of San Juan cannot form a demonstrative precedent in modern tactics. Ordered into an untenable position, the striking individuality of the American soldier, criticised by some as indiscipline, rose superior to the occasion. A technical defeat was turned to victory when the tactics of Shafter had failed. It was eminently a soldiers' battle. Invidious praise has been heaped on certain regiments; but equal credit is deserved by every officer and man participating in the assault. The army at San Juan knew the enemy was before them; but owing to the lack of orders, no officer knew what to anticipate. The first intimation of battle was a shower of bullets crashing through the tree-tops from an unseen foe. The commanding general, when he ordered the advance through the valley to Bloody Angle, overlooked the basis of elementary tactics, namely: "Marches in the vicinity of the enemy cannot be made with too much precaution and prudence."
   It was pitiful to see the American troops extracting, with difficulty, single cartridges from their sodden belts, while the Spaniards pressed home the pentacapsular clip in their Mausers and had five shots ready. A clip adjustment and a cartouche box should certainly be adopted by the United States. The enemy also had smokeless powder, and neither battery nor trench could be located; while the United States Artillery and the Springfields of the National Guard made a continual smoke target, and obscured the view. In the confusion of the battle fire discipline was not maintained, and I heard no ranges given during the day.
   The fighting, by four o'clock, had resolved itself into an offensive defence by both armies, neither of which were in a position to advance. In taking the ridges our aggregate losses had been 1140 officers and men in a battle that artillery alone could have made untenable.
   The firing on the extreme flanks at Caney and Aguadores continued, though news soon reached the centre that Duffield had retired to Siboney, the fleet continuing the attack from the sea. The 9th Massachusetts and 34th Michigan, and a force of Cubans, had moved along the coast, their advance protected by the fleet. At the ford of the Aguadores River they found the enemy in ambush, and drove the Spaniards back to the town, despite the heavy fire of a battery, which caused great loss to the 34th and the Cubans. The "Newark," however, silenced the battery, and Admiral Sampson, from the "New York," after signalling to Duffield on shore, led the attack with the Flagship, assisted by the "Suwanee" and "Gloucester." The old fort was speedily demolished, and the enemy were driven from their trenches. Unfortunately, the Aguadores River was so swollen by the rains that it was impossible to ford it; there were no pontoons or engineers, and the troops returned by rail to Siboney. As a diversion the demonstration was a success; but the attack was a failure as a flank movement against Santiago.
   Seeing that the San Juan ridges were now completely invested, I caught a stampeded troop horse in the valley below, and strove to ride through the bush to the extreme right. The rude path across country, however, was infested with sharpshooters, a number of fugitive soldiers from Caney were lurking in the trees', and the trail was so difficult that I soon abandoned the attempt. From a wooded hill beyond Marianje I could see that Lawton's Division was still hotly engaged, and he was apparently suffering from the want of artillery that cost so many lives.
   Seeing that the San Juan ridges were now completely invested, I caught a stampeded troop horse in the valley below, and strove to ride through the bush to the extreme right. The rude path across country, however, was infested with sharpshooters, a number of fugitive soldiers from Caney were lurking in the trees', and the trail was so difficult that I soon abandoned the attempt. From a wooded hill beyond Marianje I could see that Lawton's Division was still hotly engaged, and he was apparently suffering from the want of artillery that cost so many lives.
   At first the guns had accomplished little; but as the infantry closed in on the citadel, several well-planted shell burst within. Our infantry had little cover, and the enemy's machine guns, finally located in the church tower, played sad havoc. The American lines advanced slowly, the attacking force dashing across open spaces and seizing every bit of available cover. As at San Juan, they had moved into range before the artillery had paved the way, and they suffered severely in consequence. Colonel Haskell fell early in the day, wounded in three places, and Chaffee's Brigade, the 7th, 12th, and 17th, lost heavily as they advanced against the citadel under a heavy fire from the town, besides the direct resistance from the fort and surrounding trenches. Colonel Miles, with the 1st, 4th, and 25th Infantry, closed in on the west, coming up on the other side of the hill; and after Capron, with a few excellent shots, had crushed in a bastion and carried away the roof in a dozen places, a united charge took place, both brigades storming the hill. The soldiers in the trenches escaped into the town, however, and only eight privates and a corporal were captured.
   The first man to reach the fort and tear down the colours was James Creelman, the war correspondent. Speaking in Spanish, he told the survivors of the garrison to surrender, reassuring the poor wretches, who begged for quarter. Seizing the flag, he waved it triumphantly to the oncoming troops. When they saw their colours had fallen, the enemy opened heavily on the fort from the town. Creelman sank with a bullet in his shoulder, which tore its way through the blade, making a gaping wound three inches in diameter. The 25th Infantry suffered severely, ascending the hill; and though the citadel was the key to Caney, its capture had by no means ended the fight. Chaffee and Miles now led their forces against the town. General Ludlow's Brigade, 8th and 22nd Infantry, and 2nd Massachusetts, moved against the defences on the northwest. The 1st Infantry extended, cutting off retreat to the hills, and a detachment of Cubans engaged the blockhouses on the north, but made a poor showing, having expended their ammunition recklessly before closing in. Being unable to obtain more, they could not drive out the enemy.
   Ludlow's brigade, afterward supported by the 11th Infantry, captured the blockhouses holding the highroad; and flanked by Cubans under Sanchez, they drove the enemy from an entrenched trail within fifty yards of the town. The enemy, realizing retreat impossible, and expecting no quarter, still resisted desperately, fighting from trench to trench. Ludlow's horse was shot under him. Colonel Paterson was wounded. Lieutenant McCorkle, 25th Infantry, Lieutenant Wansboro, 7th Infantry, and Lieutenant Field, 2nd Massachusetts, were killed.
   Lieutenant Dickeson, 17th Infantry, under a heavy fire, nobly went to aid Colonel Haskell when he fell, and received two mortal wounds. He was struck a third time in the leg, just before he died. Captain Jackson, Lieutenant Lefferty, of the 7th; Lieutenants Dore and Churchman, 12th Infantry; Lieutenant Neary and Hughes, 4th Infantry; Captains Jones and Mosher and Lieutenant Godfrey, 22nd Infantry; Captain Warrener and Lieutenants Meyneham and Hapgood, 2nd Massachusetts, and many other officers were wounded, encouraging their men under heavy fire.
   Lieutenant Dickeson, 17th Infantry, under a heavy fire, nobly went to aid Colonel Haskell when he fell, and received two mortal wounds. He was struck a third time in the leg, just before he died. Captain Jackson, Lieutenant Lefferty, of the 7th; Lieutenants Dore and Churchman, 12th Infantry; Lieutenant Neary and Hughes, 4th Infantry; Captains Jones and Mosher and Lieutenant Godfrey, 22nd Infantry; Captain Warrener and Lieutenants Meyneham and Hapgood, 2nd Massachusetts, and many other officers were wounded, encouraging their men under heavy fire.
   As the main body of the enemy withdrew, the whole American force were led at the charge against the town. The barricades were torn down, the outworks stormed; and though a few desperate soldiers fought from house to house, Caney was soon in our hands.
   After the flag waved over San Juan, and reaction from the excitement enabled us to realise the sad realities of victory, there seemed little glory for the silent forms that lay on the field where they had fallen; or the hundreds of wounded who were helpless in the thicket, or crawled to the rear, with blood spurting from their wounds, to the dressing-station improvised in the creek bed.
   By Army Regulations, each soldier carries into action a first-aid dressing, the Esmarck bandage and two antiseptic pads. Through negligence, perhaps of the men themselves, many were not supplied with this simple but indispensable adjunct. Medical supplies at the front were absolutely lacking in the Shafteresque confusion, save for the hospital pouches the surgeons had carried on their own shoulders. Thus the single surgeon apportioned to each regiment not only found before him the work of six, but he had nothing save the first-aid packages intended for application on the firing-line, to stay the life-blood that gushed from the rows of men awaiting attention. It is not for me to impute the blame. General Sternberg had provided ambulances and an abundance of medical necessaries; but ambulances were left in Tampa by General Shafter, and the stores that were taken were loaded beneath the unlanded siege-guns, and could not be reached.
   No field hospital was equipped within specified distance, and the wounded were placed under shelter of a sand-bank, in the San Juan creek lying for hours awaiting cursory attention. Distracted surgeons tore up shirts and requisitioned handkerchiefs, underclothing, anything, in lieu of bandages. The patients, if they could move, then crawled down to the divisional hospital four miles back, where Colonel Pope and Major Wood had hastily erected hospital tents and two operating-tables. I saw but one ambulance along the trail; there were some stretchers but many of the badly wounded were either dragged over the soggy road in a blanket or lay at the creek until the next day.
   Diagnostic tabs, which facilitate the work of the surgeon, were wanting at the front, and to save time and confusion. Major Pope took in patients in the order of arrival, American, Cuban, or Spaniard in turn, greatly to the surprise of the wounded enemy awaiting treatment. Beyond the Rio Seco, near El Pozo, there was an admirable site for the field hospital, which was speedily utilised as a temporary station by Dr. Bell of the 71st. Its limited capacities were soon exhausted, however, and a long line of suffering men wended their way through the mud to Sevilla.
   At the San Juan dressing-station, the bullets of the enemy, passing over the ridge, fell like hail in and around the stream. To make room behind the bank, we carried poor Mitchie and several other dead across the ford to await burial. When carrying one poor lad over, a bullet passed through the lifeless body, and a number of wounded were killed by sharpshooters in the trees, despite the Red Cross flag that was hoisted over the station. Quiet heroism abounded on all sides. Wounded officers lay at the front, refusing to be moved until privates had received attention. I offered an arm to one of the 13th, shot in the side. "There is a man there that wants help more than I," he said, pointing into the trees. He plodded down toward the station, leaning upon his rifle, and hearing a moan, I turned to see him fall on his face, shot through the throat.
   I joined Chaplain Swift a few minutes later. A spent ball had struck him in the knee, which had swollen considerably; but he continued aiding the wounded, under fire for two days and nights. He searched the dead also, taking charge of personal effects, and attempting to establish the identity of each, before the vultures commenced their work or the burial detail was sent out. This action of Chaplain Swift, and Dr. Vandewater of the 71st, led to an infamous charge, made by certain cowardly volunteers, that the two chaplains had robbed dead bodies as they lay on the field.
   It was extremely difficult to establish the identity of the dead. Identification slips, which should contain in tabulated form the name, rank, regiment, and next of kin of the wearer, were not supplied to the troops. Singularly, also, the individual regimental kit number, which in European armies must be stamped on every article of the soldier, was not in general vogue in the American army. It is a simple regulation, invaluable in peace, essential in war. By its use, the misappropriation of kit, a common form of recruit hazing, would be impossible, and the possession of a full equipment by each soldier easily assured. In Cuba it was frequently impossible even to discover the regiment of a wounded or dead man, countless mistakes arose, and for weeks families at home endured a terrible suspense, when some loved one, whose body had probably been buried without identity by a fatigue party, was posted as missing.
   The charges for the dynamite gun had been left at the dressing-station. Several shells burst nearby, and an explosion of the dangerous ammunition was imminent, before Basil Ricketts of the Rough Riders and two troopers hurriedly dug a trench for the boxes. Bullets were falling around in all directions, and the enemy sharpshooters also opened upon the little party. We had lifted the cases into the pit, when Ricketts fell, shot in the groin. "Cover them up; never mind me," he cried, as I stepped to aid him. I managed to drag him half-way over the river toward a place of shelter; but he turned in the water, with his wound bleeding and the bullets splashing around, and instructed the men to place logs and stones over the pit-top for further protection. When this was done by Glackens the artist and two troopers, Ricketts consented to be carried out of range.
   The battle subsided into a desultory picket fire at sunset. For an hour after dark, details scoured the valley for wounded, and surgeons worked on all night in the moonlight, while guerillas took pot-shots at them from the trees. Several attempts were made to dislodge sharpshooters in the woods, but screened amid the pinnated foliage of royal palms, and using smokeless powder, they were difficult to locate. Near the angle, two troopers pointed out a suspicious something in a palm-tree, and creeping along the creek bank, we fired several shots, until first a rifle, then a body, fell crashing out into the bush. Two days later, two Cubans cut their way through the tangle to the place I indicated, and found the body of a Spanish sergeant. They brought out his coat with the red chevrons pinned on the sleeve and a Cross of San Fernando on the breast. Several Rough Riders also brought men down, and guerilla soon ceased to trouble. These guerilla had fired indiscriminately at wounded and litter-carriers far behind the firing line. One band even fired into headquarters and at the field hospital, four miles behind San Juan. The enraged soldiers soon ceased to discriminate, and several harmless pacificos were shot plucking mangoes, and many insurgents were killed at night by pickets, for not answering the foreign challenge promptly. Garcia's men grew wary of carrying despatches after dark, and gave our lines a wide berth, though starving Negro pacificos hung round the camps in hundreds, and pestered the soldiers, who berated Cubans in general in consequence.
   Late at night, General Shafter cabled Washington that his aggregate losses were ''above four hundred; of these not many are killed." Later he weakly admitted that he had underestimated the casualties, and asked for forty surgeons and a hospital ship. The anxiety caused by this despatch in the United States was aggravated by a silence at headquarters until July 3rd, when an urgent demand from the War Department elicited the fact that the city was well invested.
   The army worked far into the night entrenching, and then sank supperless in their muddy trenches to wait for daylight. A tired and hungry group gathered in a disused drying yard; Crane, Harding, Davis, Burr, Mcintosh, Hare, Glackens, and myself. Then Nicholls rode up and generously disgorged his saddle-bag's. Sir Brian Leighton of the British African Service joined us, and we ate royally on hardtack and canned bacon. We slept where we could, Sir Brian securing two discarded blankets, under which we bivouacked in the sopping grass with some degree of comfort. At midnight the artillery moved to San Juan, and then the silence was broken only by groans of the wounded and hoarse challenges from the guards. At 4.30 am. the first glimmer of dawn was heralded by a volley from the enemy, that drove in our outposts and started the battle raging along the whole line.
   Major Dillonback's batteries opened well, but every Spanish rifle was soon directed against the guns, which were barely entrenched, and in great confusion the pieces were dragged from the ridges, that were absolutely untenable at such a range. Thus again the worn-out cavalry and infantry were without artillery support, in a country topographically a gunner's paradise had reconnaissance been made for the selection and preparation of suitable sites. The artillery officers had awaited the formulation of a plan of campaign, and several told me that they received no definite orders until late on July 2nd, when the guns were moved laboriously through the woods, to a ridge on the left of El Pozo, too late to be of effective service.
   The failure of the artillery in Cuba may be chiefly attributed to the lack of mobilisation manoeuvres in the American army. Numbers of officers, absolutely proficient in every branch, had never had practical experience with combined branches, mobilised as an effective whole. An army is like a machine, and in the war with Spain the component parts were placed together for the first time, and the working lacked harmony. Constant practice in the field with every corps on a war footing, the commissariat working with the line, can give the desired result. The United States has now adopted an outside policy. Obviously the army must be adjusted to that policy, or the policy to the means of its defence. The blunders of the Santiago campaign proved the weakness of the system, and undoubtedly the object lesson will prove valuable, and should leave the army in the hands of trained soldiers rather than politicians. The staff of a modern army should be composed of officers who have been qualified by an exhaustive course in the staff college. In Cuba, men absolutely ignorant of military affairs held staff positions, and while they .proved their courage and patriotism, the youngest line subaltern was better fitted for the work, and the staff duties fell heavily on the few attached regular officers. The staff appointments of several Cuban gentlemen, notably Senores Maestre, Mendoza, Munoz, and Diaz, proved wise. They were all mentioned in despatches, and received commissions for their services. Senor Munoz was shot through the jaw, but continued on duty. Lieutenant (now Colonel) Miley, who represented headquarters at the front, made superhuman effort to sustain relations with the various brigades, fearlessly exposing himself in the performance of the work of a full staff.
   General Bates' Independent Brigade, after reinforcing Lawton at Caney, moved over to support at San Juan. Lawton also moved his division on the night of the 1st, but, through a mistake in the road, he was forced to march through by El Pozo, extending and strengthening the lines on the right early on July 2nd. They were soon heavily engaged, receiving shells also from Cervera's fleet. This division marched and fought continuously for sixty hours, with nothing but hardtack and one ration of coffee.
   During the battle on the 2nd our losses were much lighter, but the creek bed and road were choked with wounded. In lieu of ambulances a few transport wagons were utilised to take them to the rear. General Shafter has stated that he left ambulances at Tampa, since army wagons bedded with straw make efficient transport for the wounded. At Santiago the straw failed to materialise. When wagons were sent to the front, the semi-naked wounded were laid in rows upon the rough bottoms and jolted back to the hospital. The springless wheels on the rough road made torture enough for the stricken men, but at the so-called rivers, mere streams that four hours' labour with the timber growing on the banks would have bridged, the teams first jolted down the steep banks, throwing the wounded in a bleeding, groaning heap at the head of the wagon. The rear wheels bumped into the water, throwing the human mass rudely apart; and as the wagon was dragged laboriously up the opposite bank, the inmates slid toward the tailboard, shrieking and groaning in their helpless agony. Bandages became loosened, haemorrhages re-started, and men who had gone forth to bravely fight for their country a few hours previously, begged piteously to be killed to end the agony entailed by official negligence.
   Communication with the front was difficult and dangerous. Bullets and shells from Santiago fell behind San Juan in continuous hail. Several men wounded at the front were killed when going to the rear. When helping a wounded Rough Rider to the dressing-station, a shell buried itself in the ground at our side and exploded, killing my Cuban mule and blinding us with dirt and splinters. As we hurried to the creek bank, Captain Danforth, the surgeon of the 9th Cavalry, whom I had previously met as physician to the Cuban Government, turned to greet us, and fell shot through both temples. Two wounded men were again hit, and two horses fell writhing over on the Hotchkiss gun to which they were attached. It seemed that the Spaniards purposely directed their fire at this place, protected by the Red Cross, though I believe the configuration of the ground caused the bullets to drop there. Poor Danforth had been a great exponent for Cuba Libre; and as we gently lifted his quivering body to shelter, I remembered his former prognostication, "I shall die for Cuba."
   There was no lull in the firing all day, and one instinctively worked among the wounded, for "the harvest was plenteous, but the labourers were few." During the afternoon the first attempts were made to bury the dead. Chaplain Brown conducted a service under fire over the grave of Captain O'Neil, and later assisted Chaplain Swift with a general burial in the valley. It may console the friends of many who fell during those terrible days, to know that their dear ones were not thrust into unhallowed graves when they fell on the battlefield, thanks only to these devoted chaplains, who stood bareheaded, motionless, the target for sharpshooters, in the path of spent fire, and emerged unscathed through divine protection. The dead were shrouded in blankets or tent fabric, and were laid in reverse rows in a large pit. There were but four mourners, two Negroes, a corporal of the 71st, and myself. Erelong bullets began to whistle around, but neither chaplain hesitated. "Ashes to ashes! Dust to dust!" Dr. Brown's voice broke; his colleague finished the service. Then each chaplain seized a spade and filled the grave.
   At sunset General Shafter started to the front for the first time. Cowardice is certainly not one of his attributes, for as he rode across the Rio Seco, a party of guerilla opened down the ford. The sentry at the crossing fell dead, but the commander-in-chief rode coolly on, a few cavalrymen emptying their carbines into the trees. The general did not ride out to the lines, and few knew of his excursion. The firing died away with the daylight, and having secured my horse, I started to ride toward Caney, hoping to aid Creelman. I pressed on, guided only by the stars, but soon became hopelessly entangled in a swamp. At the De Crot House, I learned that a stretcher and bearers were imperative. There were no litters at the front, though the Cuban officer at the Pozo offered me six men as carriers. So I decided to ride in to Siboney, and returned to the firing-line to collect any letters or despatches that the men and officers might care to send down.
   As I crossed the battlefield, the full moon poured down a lurid glare that made the country light as day. Dark objects lay silently in the valley, stark and stiff; uncanny vultures blinked like owls in the moonlight, so emboldened by the carnage that one's advent disturbed them little; over all rose the indescribable odour of blood and death. In the trenches above, the worn-out supperless troops had sunk in the mud in troubled sleep.
   I had collected several letters, when a light flickered toward the Cobre Road, and a distant skirmish fire was heard. Then a second fire appeared on the hill to the west, and finally a third blaze appeared behind Estrella Point. A Cuban captain, under cover of the darkness, had taken his men round to the west shore and fired the Spanish blockhouses, which were evacuated as he approached. At the same time he opened fire against the Spanish ships and on the trenches at the head of the Bay. The Spaniards, thinking the expected assault on the city by land and sea was to take place, were terror-stricken. At sword point, officers drove their men to form outposts to check the expected onslaught. This movement stampeded a mule, which galloped toward the American lines. Our pickets challenged and fired, and the Spaniards turned to run back to the city. Their jabbering, and the attempt of Toral's staff officers to stay the retreat, broke the stillness as our worn-out troops were aroused by the picket fire. The alarm spread: our startled men opened a wild fire; the outposts came tearing in. The alert defenders before Santiago responded heavily; their outposts in the valley, falling on their faces to escape the fire of friend and foe, also commenced to shoot. The opposing lines were marked by successive sheets of flame, and though the advanced Spaniards suffered heavily, no American was killed or wounded and the fight soon subsided, as if by mutual consent.
   Brilliant word painters have described this "night attack" in thrilling language and artists never in Cuba have painted scenes of desperadoes storming our trenches. Since in some places only three hundred yards intervened between the opposing lines, the outposts advanced on either side were very close, and each side accuses the other of attacking and being repulsed. Minds worn by strain readily conjure phantasms, and the cries of the Spanish outposts and the sudden awakening led many of our men to believe that the enemy resolutely charged the line, and, as such, it will perhaps go down to history.
   The alarm caused a deplorable stampede at the divisional hospital. Some frightened volunteers dashed into headquarters, shouting that the enemy had broken our line. Some of the staff lost their heads; their needless panic spread to the hospital, where rows of wounded lay in the grass awaiting attention. Some pleaded to be killed rather than left to the enemy; several, with blood spurting from their wounds, started to run through the mud; others called for rifles, swearing that they would die like men, not like dogs. It was several minutes before the panic was stayed.
   The alarm over, I was asked to carry a requisition for field dressings to Major Lugarde at Siboney. As I splashed over the ford, flashes and reports rang out as the guerilla took ridiculous pot-shots at me in the dark, revealing their position. Replying with a couple of shots, I rode on across country to the coast, overtaking Scovel on the road. Our horses sank to the knees in the swamp, rivers were swollen with heavy rain, and at a late hour we reached Siboney.
   At the base hospital there, with the navy and fleet of transports in the offing, there was a lack of everything, and men were virtually dying for the want of nourishing food. So few hospital supplies had been unloaded that before July 1st, when the army was buoyed against sickness by the prospect of the combat, the wounded from Guasimas alone overtaxed the hospital facilities.
   Hay spread on the ground and covered with blankets formed the bed of the patients; but land crabs, scorpions, and tarantulas worried the men repeatedly, and they bitterly resented the treatment of the country they had bled for. Miss Barton and her staff on the Red Cross ship, "State of Texas," were waiting at Guantanamo with tons of supplies for the Cubans. Just before the San Juan battle, Mr. Davies ran his despatch boat down to the "Texas," and informed Miss Barton of the dire need of the hospital at Siboney. Regardless of red tape. Miss Barton moved the "Texas" down the coast, and finding a lack of cots, clean linen, cooking utensils, medical supplies, and suitable food at the hospital, she landed her entire staff and the necessary stores, just as the hundreds of wounded began to pour in from San Juan.
   Little did the generous Americans who sent the "Texas" for the Cubans realise that their donations would providentially succour their own soldiers, whose lives were imperilled by incompetent officialdom. With Dr. Lesser, his devoted wife. Sister Bettina, and Sisters Anne, Minna, Isabel, and Blanche, and Mrs. Trumbull White stood for hours by the operating-tables, assisting the tireless surgeons and soothing the suffering men with the divine influence God has bestowed on woman. The army had provided little beyond hardtack and field rations for the wounded, and had no facilities for cooking. The Sisters prepared rice and gruel over braziers, and thus only did the wounded obtain the food they could assimilate. Day and night the devoted Sisters slaved, with brief respites of sleep on sides of packing cases covered with a blanket; and it is small wonder that they all sickened and were removed in a dangerous condition to the hospital ship.
   Ice is imperative in a hospital in the tropics. During the Ashanti and Benin campaigns half-civilised Houssa soldiers in the British service found ice in the hospitals of the West African jungle; but in Cuba, an island adjacent to their own shores, the American army moved without an ice machine or arrangements for manufacture of ice on any of the forty transports. Mr. Hearst, from his yacht "Sylvia," sent several tons to the hospital ship "Olivette" and to Siboney, and thus by private ministration fevered wounds were kept cool, and dangerous complications averted. The correspondents from the despatch boats spent their spare time in nursing, Davies, McNichol, Root, Anderson, and others assiduously working. Mumford turned the Journal headquarters into a ward, in which he personally tended all the officers he could accommodate until he fell with yellow fever contracted by exposure at the front and the long hours he devoted to this work. Self-sacrifice was thus rewarded in Cuba.
   When I arrived at Siboney, the surgeons were still busy at the tables, and Major Lugarde, blood-stained, and weary from lack of sleep, turned patiently to hear my story from the front. He gave me all the dressings he could spare, and after talking with Miss Barton, she arranged with Dr. Egan, Dr. and Mrs. Gardner, Dr. Hubbell, and Mr. Kennon to take a wagon-load of stores to the front. Miss Barton was joined by Mrs. Horace Porter at the field hospital, and they worked for many days at the front.
   I stepped softly between the rows of suffering soldiers that night at Siboney; fires outside and flickering lanterns lit up the gaunt faces, some stamped with approaching death. Amid all the anguish, few groaned; some raved in delirium, one boyish lieutenant again urging his men forward in the historic charge. Some wounded that I had assisted at the front gave me a faint smile of recognition; a corporal watched with anxious eyes for his brother, taken to the table, and when they gently told him the soldier had answered a higher call, he gave up hope and died, sobbing quietly. His name I never learned, but in a tattered wallet we found the picture of the sweet-faced mother who had given both her sons to her country. May they all be united at the great Reveille!
   Snatching three hours' sleep, I obtained a litter for Creelman and started back to the front before sunrise. Branching off by a side trail to cross the hills to Caney, I rode some distance up the spur of the Condella to locate my position. Below stretched the glorious country. The sea shone like a polished mirror framed by the ironstone coast; the white houses and drying-yards of coffee-estates, nestling peacefully in the undulating valley, strongly contrasted with the sea of variegated foliage below. Before Santiago lay the two opposing armies; an artillery duel in progress between Shafter and Toral.
   As I gazed on this scene, I remembered it was Sunday. In America thousands, saddened by the news of the two days' battle and its sacrifices, were praying for their army in the field. In Spain the people knew little of the straits of their forces, and celebrated their "impending victory" by fiesta and bullfight. At that time the American troops realised the inability of their line to withstand combined onslaught of the enemy. The army could go no further: it could do nothing to expel Cervera's fleet or capture the city; heavy rains and increasing sickness made the prospect dark indeed. And at that moment the God of battles hearkened to his people's cry and placed victory in their hands.
   Scanning the Bay, I could see no trace of the Spanish squadron. Then also I noticed an unusual roar of guns to seaward. Morro was wreathed in smoke, the shore batteries also, and I decided that Sampson was trying to force the harbour and Cervera had moved down the Bay to meet him. The narrow entrance and the sea beyond was hidden by the foothills, and I was unaware of the decisive action being fought below them.
   I found Creelman later, but at headquarters. The field hospital at Caney had been stampeded by the night alarm, and the wounded had crawled six miles through the mud to the centre division. He was in a raging fever, and we carried him to the hospital. His shattered shoulder-blade was dressed, and Bengough and Stoddard aided him to Siboney. Truce was declared that morning to enable the burial of the dead. During the afternoon, as I talked with Lieutenant Wheeler before his father's tent, a despatch arrived for the general announcing the destruction of Cervera's fleet that morning. The news spread down the line from brigade to brigade, and the worn men raised themselves in the trenches and gave a cheer that sent the enemy scuttling back to the trenches they had left.
   General Shafter had realised the seriousness of the position to which his army had plunged with such loss. Without sufficient artillery he could do nothing, and just as the fleet steamed out and accomplished for itself the main object of our expedition, he cabled the following despatch:
We have town well invested on north and east, but with very thin line. Upon approaching it, we find it of such a character and the defences so strong that it will be impossible to carry it by storm with my force, and I am seriously considering withdrawing about five miles and taking up a new position on the high ground between the San Juan River and Siboney, with our left at Sardinero.
Shafter, Major-General
   This message reached Washington at 11.44; and Secretary Alger, in reply, advised, for the sake of the effect on the country, that San Juan be held if possible, and promised reinforcements.
   The news of Cervera's defeat changed everything. General Shafter sent in a demand of surrender to General Toral, informing him of the loss of the fleet. But a few hours before, the Spanish general had cabled Blanco and Madrid that Cervera had escaped, and General Aguirre at Cienfuegos was ordered to receive the squadron with ostentation, while General Correa cabled his congratulations to the Admiral. One can but sympathise with unhappy Spain, whose jubilation was turned to despair when they learned of their absolute loss.
   Toral, however, staunchly declined to capitulate, but did all in his power to prolong the truce until reinforcements, marching from Manzanillo, should arrive to aid him in repelling the assault he hourly expected, but which Shafter was powerless to carry out. Thanks to the Cubans, daily reports of the relieving column from Manzanillo reached headquarters. Garcia with two thousand men was holding the extreme right, cutting off the San Luis valley and the five thousand men garrisoned there within sixteen miles of the beleaguered city but kept in ignorance of Toral's straits by the vigilance of the insurgents holding the intervening valley. Garcia, realizing the impossibility of holding the entire west of the Bay against six thousand Spaniards, who might advance at any point of his scattered lines, asked and received permission from Shafter to ship half his men, under Rabbi, down the coast a few miles to Assedero, where, in conjunction with Colonel Estrada at Contre Maestre, they could hold a pass at the Aguacate River through which the Spaniards must march. In that position only could the insurgents stay the advancing force supposed to be under Pando, though Escario subsequently proved to be in command.
   After the destruction of the fleet General Shafter believed the city would surrender, and said that if Escario gained entry there would be the more prisoners to his credit. Garcia stated that he would do his best to hold them out, but realised that it was impossible with his thin line. Escario had a column of thirty-three hundred infantry, two hundred and fifty cavalry, two field-guns, and sixty transport mules. The insurgents had harassed him on the march to Contra Maestre, where Colonel Estrada and six hundred of the Maceo Regiment made a strong stand. Both the Spanish battalions, Isabel la Catolica and Andalusia charged the position, but were driven back; and had Rabbi and his force been sent over, Escario admits that the Spaniards must have been routed. Finally, however, Estrada's meagre ammunition gave out, and flanked by the Chasseurs of Puerto Rico, the six hundred Cubans fell back.
   The enemy crossed the Cobre Hills at daybreak, and skirting the bay, entered the city during the truce. The Cuban outposts there had been given explicit orders not to fire without orders, pending which the Spaniards gained the city. General Garcia keenly felt the unjust charges made against his forces, and those officers who knew his position exonerated him entirely. General Ludlow, who was on the extreme flank, eulogises the Cuban forces in his report, mentioning Sanchez and others by name, and no other officer was brought into closer contact with the ragged patriots. To judge them beside trained American soldiers was, of course, impossible. Three times they entrenched, though without tools, and cheerfully relinquished the result of their labour to the Americans, when the lines extended to the right. They carried wounded, drew rations but twice; and the reports, inspired by the conduct of starving pacificos and exaggerated by irresponsible correspondents, that credited the Cuban rebels with laziness and theft, are not only unjust but absolutely false. The stories of atrocities upon Spanish prisoners were palpable fakes. The insurgents in Santiago rendered much service to the army unostentatiously, and have gained nothing but abuse. Had Shafter given Garcia definite orders, they would have been carried out. In General Miles's words, "Our requests were as commands to the brave Cuban."
   On July 5th a second demand for the surrender of Santiago under threat of bombardment was rejected by Toral, and non-combatants were advised to leave the city. The inhabitants had suffered terrible privations, and on the 1st and 2nd they had been terrorised by shells from the warships that fell in all parts of the town. The consuls drew up a letter of protest to Admiral Sampson, against shelling the place without due warning. The guns, however, were directed against the defences behind Aguadores at great elevation, and unintentionally overreached the mark. Cervera on the 1st had threatened to shell the city should the Americans gain entrance, and gave notice to that effect. Rather than face this, the French consul and his subjects went to Cuavitas and entered the Cuban lines. The British consul, Mr. Ramsden, cabled for a warship to remove the people under his care. The panic was indescribable, when Shafter's ultimatum was delivered.
   The consuls passed out to see General Wheeler, pointing out that the destruction of Santiago would not harm Spain materially, since the city was looked upon as doomed; it could only destroy the homes and drive out the inhabitants to starve in a country devastated by Weylerism. The effect of their appeal was the grant of one day longer for the people to move out. H.M.S. "Alert" and "Pallas" removed British subjects, and twenty thousand people moved out beyond our lines, little reckoning that Shafter's threat was backed by only a few field-guns. Toral, pointing out, ironically, that since he had now several thousand less mouths to feed, he had plenty of supplies for his troops, then positively refused to surrender. Without siege-guns or mortars, Shafter was unable to follow up his ultimatum, and his strategy gained nothing apart from rendering thousands of women and children homeless.
   Having acted independently of Admiral Sampson, by not advancing against Morro Castle and the shore batteries, the commander-in-chief now turned helplessly to the navy, demanding that they should force an entrance to the harbour and attack from the Bay. Since it would assuredly have resulted in the loss of one or more vessels, the sinking of which would have closed the channel, Admiral Sampson declined to make the attempt and on July 4th, Shafter cabled to Washington as follows:
Adjutant-General, Washington: In the Field, near San Juan River, 4th.
I regard it as necessary that the navy force an entrance into the harbour of Santiago not later than the 6th inst., and assist in the capture of that place. If they do, I believe the place will surrender without further sacrifice of life.
Shafter, Major-General
   This message he supplemented by a further appeal one hour later, stating that the sure and speedy way to take the city was through the Bay, otherwise he would require 15,000 more men urgently, but doubted if they could be landed, since it was getting stormy. During the afternoon he repeated his first message. Secretary Alger wrote to Secretary Long, asking him to order the navy to force the Bay at once; but since the War Department had sent the army into its precarious position, disregarding the only feasible plan of co-operation with the fleet for joint attack, Secretary Long refused to overrule Admiral Sampson. Adjutant-General Corbin then sent the following despatch to General Shafter:
General Shafter,
Your telegram concerning the navy entering Santiago Harbour received, and your action thoroughly approved. The Secretary of War suggests that if the navy will not undertake to break through, take a transport, cover the pilot-house in most exposed points with baled hay, attach an anchor to a towline, and if possible grapple the torpedo cables, and call for volunteers from the army to run into the harbour, thus making a way for the navy. Before acting, telegraph what you think of it. One thing is certain: that is, the navy must go into the harbour, and must save the lives of our brave men that will be sacrificed if we assault the enemy in his entrenchments without aid. This is strictly confidential to you.
Corbin, Adjutant-General
   The insanity of advocating baled hay to shield an unarmoured transport from modern projectiles that had ignited the wood lining of Cervera's ironclads, is obvious. The certain sinking of the burning steamer in the tortuous channel of the harbour would have effectually barred out the navy, completing the work already attempted by the enemy.
   On July 6th the truce was extended for the exchange of Lieutenant Arias and fourteen privates for Lieutenant Hobson and the crew of the "Merrimac." The exchange was conducted by Colonel Astor, Lieutenant Miley, and Captain Maestre, and Commandante Irles and Captain Rios who conducted Hobson and his men from the city. The heroic sailors received a profuse welcome from the army as they crossed the lines, and at night they were all back on the flagship. During the afternoon Captain Chadwick of the "New York" and Lieutenant Wood of the "Gloucester" visited headquarters and pointed out the impracticality of the navy forcing the harbour.
   The Junta of defence met in Santiago. Several officers advocated surrender, the clerical party advised it, Linares wavered, and the brave Toral was in a quandary. Irles sprang to his feet and in an impassioned appeal reminded them that they were custodians of Spain's honour; that Shafter showed no disposition to end the truce and bombard. As soldiers, they must resist to the last ditch; as cowards, surrender. The effervescible Latins were roused again, though several officers and privates deserted in the night and entered the Cuban lines.
   During the protracted truce the formation of our lines completely changed, and nightly, the troops closed in, drawing the cordon tighter. But the soldiers grew dispirited with inaction: exposure and army rations were beginning to tell, and finally yellow fever broke out. On July 7th, a frightful storm raged, swamping the trenches and adding to the difficulties and discomforts of the army. Had injudicious censorship allowed news of the plight of our forces to reach Madrid, Spain would have hurled its strength towards the city's defences, to save a national disgrace by assault at frightful sacrifice.
   Foreign attaches were amazed to find officers faring the same as their men. I frequently messed on pork, hardtack, and poor water with cavalry officers. Their men had coffee, but they explained apologetically, "We do not sponge on their ration, for they need it more than we." Colonel Evan Miles was told by the doctors that his life was endangered by lack of food, and that he must be invalided home. He could not assimilate hardtack and, though commanding a brigade, he had no tent at the front. But he stayed resolutely with his men, and, too ill to stand, I have seen him wrapped in his cape and propped above the mud and water by ammunition boxes, directing operations night and day. When the city surrendered, he consented to be invalided home. Heroism and self-sacrifice existed along the whole line, and such officers can lead men to do anything, anywhere. The sufferings of the army, though, were as nothing compared to the privations endured by the unfortunate civilians and non-combatants from Santiago. They were huddled in thousands in El Caney; every house was so crowded that none could lie down, but squatted on the floors of the rooms and on the piazzas, unable to move.
   Delicate wives and daughters of merchants, prominent residents of the city, were herded in with dirty negroes and the scum of the population. There was no privacy. Food was unobtainable, though the woods were scoured for mangoes, which were fortunately plentiful and alone staved off starvation. The town resembled a vast reeking pigsty; there were absolutely no sanitary observances; the streets were littered with filth; and in the one stream that provided the refugees with drinking water, the people washed their clothes and themselves.
   The emaciated survivors of the reconcentrados, whose pudicity had departed through force of circumstances, thought little of the lack of privacy; but the delicate Cuban ladies from the city felt their position keenly until they also sank into the apathy of starvation. In single rooms fifty persons were sheltered, ladies in silken robes and beggars in rags. Money availed nothing, and on several occasions, when I rode out with the few tins of beef and the hardtack I could secure for special cases, I saw the fortunate recipients offered and refuse gold pieces for a single biscuit, and one man produced twenty five dollars to buy a can of beef. Most of the wealthier class left Santiago before the blockade, especially the families of the Spanish merchants, and the officers' wives stayed in the city; but there were Spanish and Cuban ladies in silks and satins abjectly starving in Caney.
   The most pitiable sights were to be seen in the Plaza and the side streets, where thousands of people were unable to obtain shelter and lay exposed to sun and storm, the former perhaps the more trying. Two loads of food were sent out on the fifth day, but these supplies were as the ten loaves and fishes for the multitude, with no miracle of increase. Then the Red Cross workers arrived, and Dr. Elwell did what he could to relieve, but "No transport available" was the answer to his entreaties to headquarters, and tons of food spoiled at Siboney, while hundreds starved but thirteen miles away.
   One could not fail to notice the wagons that daily arrived at headquarters with forage for the horses of the general and staff and his cavalry escort, when vast paddocks of Parana grass in the valley guaranteeing food for the animals remained untouched. One of those wagons filled with food each day would have saved much suffering to the men at the front and to the refugees, for whose plight we were morally if not legally responsible. Each day cauldrons of soup were made, but distribution led to fierce riots, in which weak buffeted with strong in a struggle for the precious decoction that was exhausted before one-fiftieth of the crowd had been served. Frail women and children were trampled underfoot in the mad rush; men forgot their chivalry in the fight for food, which they usually wanted for their own little ones, and few but the most resolute, and therefore the least needy, ventured into the seething crowd. In the scenes of suffering and misery women were reduced until they priced their honour for a morsel of food for their dear ones.
   The more intelligent class roundly berated General Shafter, when his threat of bombardment was postponed from day to day. "How dare he," they argued, "drag us out to this misery and then make no effort to bombard the city into surrender? All these days of truce we might have stayed at home." Rumours reached the people later of supplies ad infinitum at Siboney, and a steady stream of fugitives started through the muddy trails to make their effort to reach the land of plenty. They had to carry their effects or discard them. The streams were swollen, the roads quagmires; and it made one's heart ache, to see the helpless women and children wading and stumbling down that fearful fifteen miles to the coast, hundreds falling by the way from sheer weakness. Many died from exhaustion; but the majority either gave up in despair and returned to Caney, or managed to reach the main road from Siboney to Santiago, where the passing troops, touched by the mute appeal on those despondent faces, devoted the greater part of their own scanty rations to aid them on the way. It took the people three days to reach the supposed Mecca, which then turned out to be a nothing but a plague spot of yellow fever, quarantine enforced, with no shelter or rest for their weary bodies.
   The Red Cross, however, soon opened a relief depot, and finally many were housed in the coffee storehouses on the hillside, the residue existing as they might in the woods. On July 10th, Toral, receiving prompt rejection of his offer to capitulate if allowed to march out with full honours of war, requested that cable operators might go to the city, to transmit to Madrid the terms of the surrender demanded. General Randolph arrived with additional field batteries, and the 1st District of Columbia and 3rd Illinois Volunteers also marched to the front. Despite these reinforcements, Toral, that afternoon, sent out a defiant letter to Shafter, stating that he could sustain a long siege, and reiterated his refusal to surrender, save with a safe conduct for his army with full honours.
   To this Shafter sent a further, terse demand for unconditional surrender, at which the Sunday quietude was broken by a scattering volley and a shell from the Spaniards, as they defiantly dragged down the white flag. Our artillery now had the range, and opened at 4 pm. The suffering soldiers, sick with inaction, tumbled into the trenches, and the fighting restarted. With Armstrong and Bengough I rode out to the advance ridges, to witness the effect of the bombardment. The mortars threw bombs, rather ineffectually, against the hillside leading to the city, and the field guns did little damage. One shrapnel, however, struck Fort St. Inez, killing three privates, and wounding Colonel Pascual, Lieutenant Diaz, and fifteen men. Alsop Burrows also planted a shot from the dynamite gun right below a bronze cannon just mounted by Melgar. The piece was hurled from its carriage, the gunners blown to atoms, and the escarpment torn up for thirty feet. The Spanish reply was badly directed, and shells hissed and screamed over our heads, bursting in the woods in rear. Their Hontoria planted three shells at the foot of our outworks, and one, tearing its way through the military crest of the ridge, burst under a bomb proof, killing Captain Rowell and Nelson, and wounding Lieutenant Lutz and several privates.
   The shells from the fleet were more effective, though fired at very great elevation over the foothills, and ranged by mathematical calculation. Several houses were demolished; but with such precedents as Sebastopol, Strasburg, and Paris, it was easy to realise that Shafter's threat to knock Santiago to pieces with his puny field-guns was futile; even aided by a powerful navy, it might take a prolonged action to force surrender.
   At night General Ludlow moved his brigade round at the extreme right, his tired forces occupying trenches voluntarily constructed with stupendous difficulty by Garcia's men. At daybreak on the 11th, firing was resumed; but the Spaniards replied weakly. Our left was but three hundred yards from the enemy's position; and from the trenches of the 21st Infantry a very clear view of the enemy was obtainable. Colonel McKibben turned a round hill into a redoubt, and, with Captain Ebstein and Captain Cornman, commanding battalions, a continuous fire was directed against the enemy's guns. But the position was far from comfortable, and it was a terrible ordeal to lie hour after hour, behind scanty cover, while a frontal, oblique, enfilade and cross fire was poured against the position, with seven-inch shells thumping over into the centre of the hill at intervals. With Lieutenants Mullay and Martin I squirmed through the brush clothing the ridge, and viewed the batteries erected directly opposite. The judgment of these officers that several "guns" the enemy had mounted were but logs of wood proved correct. We could plainly see large shells from the "Brooklyn" dropping among the entrenchments on the hillside.
   At 2 o’clock the bugles rang out "Cease firing!" as a boyish-looking defender stepped fearlessly up on the enemy's earthworks and planted the white flag. General Wheeler then rode out to meet General Toral, who asked for time to consider "unconditional surrender." Our men again sank apathetically into their trenches, cursing their plight, and urging that it were better to die like men in assaulting Santiago than like dogs in a ditch.
   On the following day General Miles and General Henry arrived with reinforcements, and at 9 am. a flag was sent, asking General Toral to meet the commander-in-chief. Generals Shafter, Wheeler, and Gilmour, Colonel Morse, and their aides, moved out beyond the lines to attend the conference, and Toral manifested that his desire to surrender was only outweighed by the fear of blame in Spain. But the advent of the general-in-chief and reinforcements had a marked effect: Toral retired to consult Sagasta and Blanco by cable. Blanco at once acquiesced, and several hours later the Spanish Cabinet accepted the inevitable, on condition that the garrison should be repatriated.

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