Battles of the Nineteenth Century, Page 211.
The Fall of Santiago.
Early in the morning of Sunday July 3rd, General
Shafter had telegraphed to Washington, describing the situation before
Santiago as very serious, and suggesting a retirement to the hills near
the coast. A half past two the same afternoon he sent a message in to
General Toral, summoning him to surrender Santiago without further
delay, and threatening to bombard the city if it was not handed over to
him immediately. The
contrast between these two messages shows how everything had changed in
a few hours. Toral showed
the summons to Mr. Ramsden, and he assembled the other consuls; and, a
brief deliberation, they proceeded to the American headquarters behind
San Juan Hill. Generals Kent and Wheeler met the consuls, and, after
telegraphing to Shafter, told them that the bombardment would be delayed
for twenty-four hours. To
put it familiarly, this talk of bombardment was a piece of bluff.
The Americans had neither the guns nor the ammunition up at the
front; and, with one muddy hill-road to bring up by from Siboney, they
could net expect them for some days to come.
But the consuls could not know this.
Considering that the army had been eleven days on Cuban soil,
they supposed that it had brought up its artillery.
And they knew that, in any case, the fleet could repeat its
previous performances. So
they took the threat seriously.
“We explained to the generals,” writes Ramsden, “what a
frightful act they were about to commit, and that, while doing no harm
whatever to the Spanish army, they would drive out to a barren country
and starvation some 20,000 women and children, and destroy their homes.
The villages of El Caney, and Cuavitas, and Dos Bocas were
designated as places to which the people might go, the former being in
hands of the Americans, and the latter in those of the Cubans; but, of
course, there was no food at either, and little shelter, and the country
round was barren in consequence of the three years war.”
Thus the mission of the consuls had little result except to
prepare the way for a miserable exodus of the civil population of
Santiago.
The fate of the fleet was not known in the city till the
afternoon, when band of weary fugitives, many of them wounded, came
straggling in from the westward and told the terrible tale.
Two small tugboats, the Colon and the Esmeralda, had slipped out
under Socapa after the destruction of the torpedo boats, and had picked
up some of their crews floating on wreckage or waiting on the shore.
By this time the American ships were all in chase of the
cruisers, and the little steamers got safely back into harbour.
For some hours it was thought that, though the torpedo boats had
failed to get away, the cruisers had escaped; and for some days there
was uncertainty as to the fate of the Cristobal Colon.
At times during the day there had been desultory firing at the
trenches, chiefly on the north side of the city, where the Cubans faced
the Spaniards. In the
evening Colonel Escario marched into Santiago with the long-expected
reinforcements from Manzanillo. He
had started on June 22nd with 3,700 men, regulars and
volunteers, a few mountain guns, and a mule train laden with supplies
for the march. He had
fought on the way numerous minor engagements with the Cubans, losing
about a hundred men killed and wounded in action.
But as he approached Santiago he met with practically no
resistance. Garcia had
promised Shafter that his men would deal with the Manzanillo column,
which was supposed to be under the command of General Pando, and to be
about seven or eight thousand strong.
But Garcia’s lieutenants, who held the lines to the north of
the city, had no liking for a pitched battle, and let Escario pass
through, contenting themselves with firing some long range rifle shots
at the column.
The reinforcements enabled the weary men who had held the
trenches for three days to be relieved.
Otherwise Colonel Escario’s arrival was of doubtful benefit to
General Toral and the Spanish garrison of Santiago.
The Manzanillo column brought with it hardly anything in the way
of provisions. It could not
have supplied its own wants for even a few longer.
And thus, whilst adding to the fighting force in the city, and
making it safer against a coup-de-main, it diminished its power of
resistance against a prolonged blockade.
On the Monday morning the exodus of the unfortunate civilian
population of Santiago began. It
was blowing a heavy gale, and some of the British subjects were with
great difficulty transferred from the tugboat Esmeralda to H.M.S. Pallas
and Alert, outside the harbour. Others
went out with Consul Ramsden to El Caney, whither the people were making
their way in thousands. The
little town was soon overcrowded, and became the centre of a great camp
or bivouac of the refugees. Days
and nights of misery followed. The
wretched people living in the overcrowded camp and town, without proper
shelter or food, sick and well huddled together, were dying by the
score. The mortality of the
children was especially heavy. The
Americans and the Red Cross Society furnished some supplies, both they
were utterly insufficient to meet the wants of the people.
It would be impossible adequately to describe the wretchedness of
those days in Caney. Mr.
Ramsden gives some idea of it in the detailed narrative of his diary.
He was himself one of the victims, falling ill just before the
people returned to Santiago after the surrender.
It is doubtful; too, whether the Americans through this threat of
bombardment gained anything. The
wholesale migration of the people to El Caney and the other villages
made it, if anything easier for Toral to hold out in the town.
Though almost at the end of his resources, the Spanish general
managed t maintain him for nearly a fortnight after the destruction of
the fleet.
On the evening of Monday July 4th, the cruiser Reina
Mercedes, the only Spanish warship, except a gunboat, left at Santiago,
was sunk at the harbour mouth. Now
that the fleet was gone, and some of the torpedoes had been removed to
let the cruisers out, it was felt that it would be better to try to
obstruct the entrance by sinking a large ship in the narrows.
The Mercedes was the only vessel available for the purpose.
Her guns and stores had been removed for the defence of the sea
forts and the entrenchments of Santiago.
Between eight and nine in the evening she weighed anchor and
steamed down to the harbour mouth.
Miguel Lopez, the pilot who had gone out with Cervera, was one of
the men in charge of the ship on this her last voyage.
At half-past eleven she was in the narrows.
The blockading ships discovered her with their searchlights, and,
not knowing that the state of her engines and boilers had long condemned
her to in-activity, they fought that she was trying to run out, and
opened a heavy fire on the narrow channel.
The shore batteries replied.
The Mercedes was hit several times by shells fired from the Texas
and the Massachusetts, which this night laid just opposite the harbour
mouth. But no one on board
of her was hurt, and her crew sank her at the spot that had been chosen.
They did not however, succeed in obstructing the channel, for the
cruiser swung round as she sank, lying length ways in the narrows, with
her upper decks awash, instead of sinking athwart the channel.
Under the fire of the battleships, she had gone down quicker than
was intended. During the
firing the batteries on shore made one hit, sending an 8-inch shell into
the officers quarters of the Indiana, where it exploded, wrecking the
place, but injuring no one, as all the officers were at their battle
stations. Thus, although
two ships, the Merrimac and the Mercedes, had been sunk with a view to
blocking the entrance, the sea gate of Santiago still lay open.
But Admiral Sampson did not realise this, and made no attempt to
enter. The sunken cruiser
had proved a very useful auxiliary in the defence.
It was her guns, manned by her officers and men that constituted
the only serious element of strength in, the batteries.
Out of a reduced crew, the Mercedes had lost during the siege
some thirty killed and wounded, including her commander, the gallant
Acosta.
On this same evening of the Fourth the Americans cut the water
mains that supplied the city, forcing the garrison to depend on a few
wells and on the inferior water to be got from the streams near the
suburbs. Notwithstanding
the truce, which had been granted, to allow of the withdrawal of
non-combatants, the preparations for attack and defence went on steadily
on both sides. The
Americans were laboriously dragging mortars and light guns up to the
front from Siboney and mounting them on the ridges facing the city, so
that they could fire over the heads of their own men holding the
advanced trenches. The
heavy siege train was still on the transports or on the beach.
The Spaniards were mounting some of the quick-firers of the
Mercedes and digging trenches and loop holing house and garden walls,
and barricading the streets all along the margin of the city.
Their hospitals were full of sick, the men in the working parties
were half starved, but up to the very last day of the siege they were
busy with pick and spade, with their rifles ready beside them.
General Shafter realised that to storm the Spanish works would be
a costly business. He knew
that Toral was not to be frightened into immediate surrender by the
threat of bombardment, a threat that could not even be acted upon for
some days, and he made a last effort to get Sampson to settle the
question by forcing the harbour mouth.
On Monday, the 4th, he had cabled to Washington: “I
feel that I am master of the situation and can hold the enemy for any
length of time.” But
holding the enemy and conquering him were two different things, and in a
later telegram he made a final appeal for Sampson’s help.
This was his message: -
“Camp near San Juan river, July 4th 1898-if Sampson
will force an entrance with all his fleet to the upper bay of Santiago,
we can take the place within a few hours.
Under these conditions I believe the town will surrender.
If the army is to take the place I want 15,000 troops speedily,
and it is not certain that they can be landed, as it is getting stormy. Sure and speedy way is through the bay. Am now in position to do my part.
“Shafter,
Major-General.
But Admiral Sampson would not risk anything.
In the United States his caution was made the subject of hostile
comment. Such was the
public feeling that most of the credit for the destruction of
Cervera’s squadron was given to Commodore Schley, who had led the
chase in the Brooklyn.
The truce arranged by the consuls in the interest of the
non-combatants had been prolonged till Saturday, the 9th on
which day it was declared that it the city did not surrender, the fleet
and army would open fire upon it. The
first reinforcements were arriving from the United States, and on the
evening of the 6th there was a wild scene of enthusiasm in
the American camps as Lieutenant Hobson and his companions arrived in
the lines, released from their Santiago prison in exchange for some
Spanish officers. New
uniforms had been sent top them, and Hobson was mounted, his men walking
beside him. As they passed
through the lines bands played, men and officers cheered, flags were
waved, and when they embarked at Siboney to get on board the New York,
they were welcomed by cheers from every ship, steam whistles and sirens
adding to the din.
On the 9th there was another unexpected extension of
the truce. General Toral had sent out a party of officers with a white
flag and a letter making the first of surrender.
But it must be surrender on terms.
He suggested that his army should be allowed to march out with
colours flying and their arms in their hands and proceeds to some other
part of the island. On
these conditions he would hand over Santiago at once.
The truce was prolonged till four p.m. next day, Sunday July 10th,
to consider the matter. Some
of the American officers were for giving Toral what he asked.
It was worthwhile paying a good price for the immediate
possession of the city, especially now that the American camps were full
of sick and wounded, and the refugees at Caney had brought the yellow
fever into the lines. Toral
was allowed to communicate by telegraph with Havana during the truce.
On the Sunday morning Shafter informed him that he could give no
terms, but must demand unconditional surrender.
Toral answered that this was impossible, and at four on that
Sunday afternoon the truce came at last to an end, after having dragged
on for a week.
“At 4.20,” writes Mr. Caspar Whitney, “we opened our
bombardment of Santiago, as promised, but it never seemed a very
determined affair, even though for two hours our artillery maintained a
fairly heavy fire, to which the Spaniards replied vigorously, sending
one shell at least into the trenches of the 2nd Infantry,
which I was unfortunate enough to see explode and kill Captain Rowell.
The musketry was sharp and continuous on both sides until dark,
and then all settled to quiet.” During
this brief bombardment the fleet had joined in, sending shells at
intervals over the hills, the aim being taken by compass bearings and
the sights fixed for a range of 8,500 yards.
The result of each shot was telegraphed to the shore and
signalled to the fleet. The
shooting on this indirect aiming plan was very good, and the large
shells wrecked several houses. But,
of course the city was a large target.
Next morning the fleet and the land batteries resumed a kind of
desultory bombardment. Some
of the shells from the ships went very wide.
One burst among the wretched refugees in El Caney.
This day Spaniards made very little reply. It was supposed their power of resistance was nearly at an
end, and towards noon General Shafter stopped the bombardment and sent
in another flag of truce with a summons to Toral to surrender at
discretion. For the last
hour of the bombardment the guns had been firing through a blinding
deluge of rain, and a tropical thunderstorm was flashing and roaring
over the trenches, where the men crouched, soaked to the skin.
In the two days fighting the Americans had lost two killed and
eleven wounded, the Spaniards forty-two killed or wounded.
General Toral sent no reply till eight o’clock next morning,
when he answered that unconditional surrender was impossible, and would
be refused at all costs and risks.
Meanwhile, on the Monday afternoon, General Miles had landed at
Siboney and proceeded at once to the front, riding through the storm of
the forest track, where at times his horse sank to his knees in mud.
He took care not to supersede General Shafter, acting rather as a
kind of non-official adviser, while leaving the general the executive
command. Even so there were
somewhat strained relations between the two commanders.
Miles ordered all the infected houses at Siboney to be burned and
replaced by tents. General
Randolph, of the artillery, who accompanied him, landed six fresh
batteries of field artillery and took immediate steps for getting the
heavy siege guns up to the front. Several
regiments of infantry volunteers had arrived, the first available being
the 9th Massachusetts, 34th Michigan, 8th
Ohio, 1st Illinois, and 1st District of Columbia,
this last being a Washington regiment.
While thus strengthening Shafter’s hands for the attack on
Santiago, and at the same time making preliminary arrangements with
Admiral Sampson for a land attack in the Socapa battery, which would
open the way for him to enter the bay and compel the surrender of the
city, General Miles recognised that it would not be good policy to drive
the Spaniards to extremities. A prolongation of the siege might mean a disastrous loss of
life by exposure and sickness, and the utter ruin of the few regular
regiments, which had done all the hard fighting, and which must by the
vanguard of a force sent against Havana if the war continued.
After a council of war and a reference to Washington, another
message was sent in to General Toral offering that if he would
surrender, his troops should be sent back to Spain.
This afforded a basis for discussion, and a conference was
arranged for the afternoon, when Generals Miles, Shafter, Wheeler, and
Toral met under the shadow of a spreading tree on the neutral ground
between the lines.
At that meeting the capitulation was practically agreed upon. Certain details led to debates on the following days, and
there was a difficulty in obtaining the assent of the Havana and Madrid
governments. Toral told
Consul Ramsden on the 15th-the eve of surrender-that if the
permission did not come soon he would sign the capitulation without it
and risk a court martial. He
had held a council of war, and it had been decided that further
resistance was impossible. There was no food, and this was why no attempt was made to
break out to the northwards and reach Holguin or Bayamo.
By the terms agreed upon, the garrison of Santiago was to march
out and lay down its arms. But
Toral surrendered not only the city but the district depending upon it,
including all the country east of the line drawn from Aserraderos to
Sagua de Tanamo, including the garrisons of Guantanamo and Baracoa and
all other posts in the region thus defined.
Why the surrender was thus extended is not clear.
It looks as if the Spanish leaders were becoming tired of the
war, and had given up the idea of a fight to the death.
The one favourable condition conceded to the Spaniards was that
the troops were to be conveyed to Spain at the cost of the United States
as soon as possible. This
concession was not, however, such a piece of generosity as it seems at
first sight. If the garrison had not thus been sent to Europe, either a
large force must have been kept to guard them, and this under unhealthy
conditions in Eastern Cuba, or they must have been transferred to the
United States at the risk of spreading yellow fever in the country.
On Saturday, the 16th the capitulation was signed.
The news was received in the American trenches with cheer upon
cheer and the singing of patriotic songs.
It was just eight weeks and two days since Cervera’s fleet had
run in between the headlands, bringing the storm of war upon the old
city and its land locked bay. Consul Ramsden, who had closely watched
events from the first, and was now dying of an illness contracted at El
Caney, thus summed up his impression of the siege on the day of
surrender: -
“Santiago de Cuba has made an heroic defence and the Americans
have learned to admire the pluck of the Spaniards.
On the first attack there were, including 1,000 men from the
squadron, 3,500 men of all arms, with volunteers.
Aldea had a column of 600 on the other side of the Bay, and there
were about 200 more between Morro, etc., and Aguadores. From Manzanillo 3,500 men arrived after the attack and helped
to replace the killed and wounded.
At Caney there were 500 men.
There are now here and along the railway, etc, 10,500 men, at
Guantanamo 5,000 and Baracoa and others scattered 2,000, making a total
of 17,500. Santiago had no defences, but they ran up some earthworks,
mounted some good-for-nothing, old-fashioned guns, and made trenches
after the fleet began to blockade and the United States army to besiege
them. The Spanish soldiers
are half starved, have very little ammunition left, and are sick.
Linares would have surrendered the place a week ago had he been
in command, but Toral has been delaying, etc., while Blanco and Madrid
were against it.”
On the Sunday the city was handed over to the victors. General Miles had re-embarked.
He was on his way to Tampa to take command of an expedition to
Puerto Rico. General
Shafter was therefore the chief figure on the American side.
He acted with chivalrous courtesy to General Toral and the
Spanish officers, and the measures he took for securing order in the
city were most excellent.
Early in the day, escorted by two mounted companies of regular
cavalry, and followed by the 9th Infantry, who were to
garrison the town, Shafter rode towards Santiago, accompanied by his
staff and the generals commanding brigades and divisions.
Outside the town General Toral and the Spanish staff met him.
As they approached, Shafter saluted, and riding up to Toral, told
him that before the surrender took place he wished to present him with
the sword and spurs of his gallant comrade, General Vara de Rey, who had
fallen so bravely in the heroic defence of El Caney.
General Toral, evidently deeply moved, expressed his warm thanks
for this act of courtesy. He
then formally declared that he handed over Santiago, with the other
towns and garrisons of the district, to General Shafter, and he was
about to unbuckle his sword belt, when Shafter told him that he must
keep his sword. Neither he
nor any of his officers would be asked to surrender their weapons.
The American general then expressed the admiration of himself and
his colleagues for the gallantry with which the city had been defended.
Then came the second part of the surrender.
A battalion of Spanish regulars advanced, with colours flying and
its band playing. The men looked worn and haggard, but they stepped out
smartly to the stirring march, shouldering arms as they passed the
generals, and receiving a salute from the American troops.
They then passed the spot where the staffs were halted and piled
arms, and countermarched, returning towards the city without their
weapons. The arms of the
other corps were taken over later in the day, without any formal
ceremony.
The generals then marched into the city, Toral riding beside
Shafter, conversing with him, and their staffs mingled together, looking
more like friends and comrades than victors and vanquished.
“One might have thought it was the meeting of old friends,”
wrote a correspondent who was present.
The American officers looked with keen curiosity at the defences
they would have had to storm if the siege had been prolonged.
To quote the same correspondent: “We had no advanced guard,
though the way into the city was lined with Spanish soldiers still
armed. But confidence was
placed in them, and that confidence was not broken.
Between the lines, and especially as we neared the city, the
condition was terrible. All
along the road were carcasses of horses, most of which still had the
saddle, bridle, and, in many cases, saddlebags full of effects on the
dead animals. This state of
things showed the hasty retreat under a terrific fire the enemy
experienced during the three days battle.
Shallow graves along the road had been scratched open by
vultures, and the odour was horrible in the extreme.
The first barricade we encountered was the cleverly conceived
barbed wire entanglement that did not close the road but compelled
anyone entering to zigzag back and forth, so that entrance under fire
would be next to impossible. Then
came barricades of sand-filled barrels covering trenches, side streets
blocked with paving stones, leaving loopholes.
The thick walled houses were also loopholes, and would have made
excellent fortifications. To
have attempted to have taken the city by infantry assault would have
meant the loss of thousands of our men.”
As the cavalcade passed through the city to the Plaza, the
streets were lined with thousands of Spanish soldiers, some standing in
groups, others drawn up under arms.
Many of the companies presented arms to the generals, and the
officers exchanged friendly salutes.
In front of the palace the officers dismounted and entered the
building, where the governor of the city received them.
In the palace a kind of reception was held, General Toral
introducing the notables of the place to the American commander.
Among them was the archbishop, who expressed a hope that peace
would be soon concluded between the two countries, on terms as
honourable as those, which had secured the surrender of the city.
General Shafter announced that the local Spanish officials would
for the present retain their functions, and that the regiment of the
guardia civile would keep its arms, and assist in maintaining order in
Santiago. The Cubans, who
had expected a day of personal triumph over the Spaniards, were
intensely disappointed, and still more exasperated at finding that their
flag was not to be hoisted on the palace, but that the Stars and Stripes
were to fly alone.
A few minutes before twelve the officers went out into the Plaza,
where the American cavalry and infantry stood to “attention,” a
crowd of civilians and Spanish soldiers looking on, and every window
being full of interested spectators.
On the palace roof the Captain McKittrick, of the staff, stood
with the halyards in his hand ready to hoist the flag.
As the clock struck, the Americans uncovered, the troops
presented arms, the band struck up the “Star-Spangled Banner,” and
the national flag ran up the flagstaff and flew out brightly in the sun.
From the trenches came the boom of saluting cannon, and the
regiments that watched for the flag from the old battlefront cheered
again and again, almost drowning the music of their bands.
“Not so in Santaigo,” writes Mr. Archibald, the correspondent
who has been already quoted. “We
did not cheer. We did not
feel like it; for victory has; almost the sadness that I might imagine
defeat would have. And when
the band followed with Stars and Stripes forEver, there was a feeling of
sadness, for all about us was pinched, wan faces of the hungry citizens,
and the sorrowful faces of the defeated officers, who covered heavy
hearts with gracious manner to their foe.
There could not be too much said in praise of the manner in which
the enemy’s officers treated un on the very day on which our flag
replaced their. And no one
would knowingly criticise the action of continuing the Spanish officials
in power, or keeping the guardia civile on duty in the city.
They were ready to do all in their power to make our delay
perfect; and yet I saw many a strong, brave Spaniard brush away a tear
as their banner gave way to ours. The
scene was intense in the extreme. Yet
no one felt like exulting.”
So ended the siege of Santiago.
To what extremity the garrison had been reduced was proved by
General Toral having to ask General Shafter if it was possible to send
in some food for his men, who were almost starving.
Of course, the request was at once granted, and something was
also done to help the starving citizens, although even in the American
lines supplies were running short.
It was a strange ending to the fierce struggle, Spaniard and
American clasping hands under the shadow of the conqueror’s flag,
while the Cuban rebels looked on in angry disappointment that the long
wished for day of vengeance had been taken from them.
With the city the Spanish authorities handed over two or three
merchant steamers and a small gunboat.
This last hoists the American flag, and was once attached to the
fleet as a despatch boat. Working
parties under Lieutenant Hobson were engaged in clearing away the
obstruction of the harbour mouth, but, contrary to general expectation,
Admiral Sampson did not take his fleet in.
Only some of the small vessels actually entered the harbour.
The bigger ships went away to coal at Guantanamo.
The Spanish garrison and then laid down their arms without the
least demur on learning that they had been included by General Toral in
the capitulation of Santiago, and a couple of gunboats, or large armed
lunches that had taken refuge in the inner bay, were also handed over to
the Americans.
An examination of the batteries at Santiago revealed the fact
that very little harm of any importance had been done by the long series
of bombardments on the part of the fleet.
The results of the fire of the Vesuvius were especially
disappointing. In the city it was found that the long ranging fire of the
fleet damaged about a hundred houses.
The inhabitants had suffered terribly.
Few had been injured by the earlier bombardments, and during the
last attack most of the civilian population had fled to the adjoining
villages. It was this
exodus that led to the greatest loss of life.
Enfeebled by want of food, and already attacked by sickness, the
unfortunate townsfolk were in no condition to resist the unhealthy and
enfeebling influences to which they were now exposed.
Unsheltered from the weather, or huddled together in the small
houses, drinking foul water and eating scanty food, no wonder they died
by hundreds.
The Spanish garrison, too, had suffered more loss by want and
sickness than from the fire of the besiegers.
When the Americans entered the city the hospitals were full, and
every regiment had a heavy death roll.
Most of the Spanish volunteers, after behaving steadily in the
early days of the siege, had abandoned all shares in the defence as soon
as they saw that victory was hopeless.
Some disappeared in the civil population; others deserted and
joined Garcia’s Cuban irregulars.
As for the Spanish regulars who had survived the siege, they
openly fraternised with the victors. Most of the American soldiers were forbidden to go into
Santiago, but the Spaniards would come up to the line of the trenches,
give them bottles of wine in exchange for biscuits or tobacco, and
heartily shake hands with their late foes.
Before they embarked to Spain many of them addressed letters to
General Shafter, thanking him for the kind treatment they had received
after the capitulation, and expressing their admiration for the way in
which the American soldiers had acted, both as brave foes in fight and
as generous friends when battle was done.
The fall of Santiago brought the end of the war in sight. Though Havana was still held by Marshal Blanco’s army,
Spain was tired of the war, and felt that enough had been done for
honour, now that victory could no longer be expected, and none of the
Powers seemed likely to intervene on her side.
During the siege of Santiago there had been a number of minor
engagements between American cruisers and gunboats and the coast
batteries of Cuban ports. In
July General Miles was sent with an army chiefly composed of volunteers
to drive the Spanish troops from Puerto Rico.
He began to land his troops on July 24th at Guanica,
in the south of the island. The
Spaniards kept their main force concentrated at San Juan, and only left
small detachments in the south to delay the American advance.
A number of minor engagements were fought, in most of which the
Spaniards were easily worsted. The
people in the towns and villages welcomed the Americans.
But before Miles had marched half way to San Juan, where the
serious fighting of the campaign was expected, peace was signed, and on
July 12th all military and naval operations ceased.
On that very day the Havana sea forts were firing on the American
blockading squadron, and next morning the American cruisers were
actually steaming into attack the batteries of Manzanillo when a flag of
truce was sent out to inform them that news had just arrived that the
war was over.