The Boys of '98

CHAPTER VIII.

HOBSON AND THE MERRIMAC

May 29. The blockading fleet, under command of Commodore Schley, off Santiago de Cuba, was composed of the Brooklyn, Iowa, Massachusetts, Texas, New Orleans, Marblehead, and Vixen.

At about midnight on May 29th the officer of the deck on board the Texas saw, by aid of his night-glass, two low-lying, swiftly-running steamers stealing out of Santiago Harbour, and keeping well within the shadows of the land.

As soon as might be thereafter the war-vessel’s search-lights were turned full on, and at the same moment the sleeping crew were awakened.

It was known beyond a question that the Spanish fleet under Admiral Cervera was hidden within the harbour, not daring to come boldly out while the blockading squadron was so strong, and the first thought of men as well as officers, when these stealthily moving vessels were sighted, was that the Spaniards were making a desperate effort to escape from the trap they had voluntarily entered.

The search-lights of the Texas revealed the fact that the two strangers were torpedo-boats, and a heavy fire was opened upon them instantly.

With the report of the first gun the call to quarters was sounded on all the other ships, and a dozen rays of blinding light flashed here and there across the entrance to the harbour, until the waters were so brilliantly illumined that the smallest craft in which mariner ever set sail could not have come out unobserved.

The same report which aroused the squadron told the Spaniards that their purpose was no longer a secret, and the two torpedo-boats were headed for the Brooklyn and the Texas, running at full speed in the hope of discharging their tubes before the fire should become too heavy.

The enemy had not calculated, however, upon such a warm and immediate reception. It was as if every gun on board both the Brooklyn and Texas was in action within sixty seconds after the Spaniards were sighted, and there remained nothing for the venturesome craft save to seek the shelter of the harbour again, fortunate indeed if such opportunity was allowed them.

May 31. The U. S. S. Marblehead, cruising inshore to relieve the monotony of blockading duties, discovered that lying behind the batteries at the mouth of Santiago Harbour were four Spanish cruisers and two torpedo-boat destroyers.

When this fact was reported to the commodore he decided to tempt the Spanish fleet into a fight, and at the same time discover the location of the masked batteries. In pursuance of this plan he transferred his flag from the Brooklyn to the more heavily armed Massachusetts.

Two hours after noon the Massachusetts, New Orleans, and Iowa, in the order named, and not more than a cable length apart, steamed up to the harbour mouth to within four thousand yards of Morro Castle.

Two miles out to sea lay the Brooklyn, Texas, and other ships of the blockading fleet awaiting the summons which should bring them into the fight; but none came.

The Massachusetts opened fire first, taking the Spanish flag-ship for its target. An 8-inch shell was the missile, and it fell far short of its mark. Then the big machine tried her 13-inch guns.

The Cristobal Colon and four batteries – two on the east side, one on the west, and one on an island in the middle of the channel, replied. Their 10 and 12-inch Krupps spoke shot for shot with our sixes, eights and thirteens. It was noisy and spectacular, but not effective on either side.

The American fleet steamed across before the batteries at full speed; circled, and passed again. Both sides had found the range by the time of the second passing, and began to shoot close. Several shots burst directly over the Iowa, three fell dangerously near the New Orleans, and one sprayed the bow of the Massachusetts.

After half an hour both forts on the east and the one on the island were silenced. Five minutes later our ships ceased firing. The western battery and the Spanish flag-ship kept up the din fifteen minutes longer, but their work was ineffective.

June 1. Rear-Admiral Sampson, with the New York as his flag-ship, and accompanied by the Oregon, the Mayflower, and the torpedo-boat Porter, joined Commodore Schley’s squadron off Santiago on the first of June.

A naval officer with the squadron summed up the situation in a communication to his friend at home:

“Pending the execution of Admiral Sampson’s plan of campaign, our ships form a cordon about the entrance of Santiago Harbour to prevent the possible egress of the Spaniards, should Admiral Cervera be foolhardy enough to attempt to cut his way out.”

The officers of the blockading squadron were well informed as to the situation ashore. Communication with the Cubans had been established, and it was known that a line of insurgents had been drawn around Santiago, in order that they might be of assistance when the big war-vessels had struck the first blow.

The defences of the harbour were fairly well-known despite the vigilance of the enemy, and it was no secret that within the narrow neck of the channel, which at the entrance is hardly more than three hundred feet wide, eighteen or twenty mines had been planted.

A report from one of the newspaper correspondents, under date of June 1st, was as follows:

“So far as has been ascertained, there are three new batteries on the west side of the entrance. These appear to be formed entirely of earthworks.

“The embrasures for the guns can easily be discerned with the glasses. Cayo Smith, a small island which lies directly beyond the entrance, is fortified, and back of Morro, which sits on the rocky eminences at the right of the entrance, are Estrella battery and St. Carolina fort. Further up the bay, guarding the last approach to the city of Santiago, is Blanco battery.

“The first are of stone, and were constructed in the early sixties. St. Carolina fort is partially in ruins. The guns in Morro Castle and Estrella are of old pattern, 18 and 24-pounders, and would not even be considered were it not for the great height of the fortifications, which would enable these weapons to deliver a plunging fire.

“Modern guns are mounted on the batteries to the left of the entrance. On Cayo Smith and at Blanco battery there are also four modern guns. The mines in the narrow, tortuous channel, and the elevation of the forts and batteries, which must increase the effectiveness of the enemy’s fire, and at the same time decrease that of our own, reinforced by the guns of the Spanish fleet inside, make the harbour, as it now appears, almost impregnable. Unless the entrance is countermined it would be folly to attempt to force its passage with our ships.

“But the Spanish fleet is bottled up, and a plan is being considered to drive in the cork. If that is done, the next news may be a thrilling story of closing the harbour. It would release a part of our fleet, and leave the Spaniards to starve and rot until they were ready to hoist the white flag.”

“To drive in the cork,” was the subject nearest Rear-Admiral Sampson’s heart, and he at once went into consultation with his officers as to how it could best be done. One plan after another was discussed and rejected, and then Assistant Naval Constructor Richmond Pearson Hobson proposed that the big collier Merrimac, which then had on board about six hundred tons of coal, be sunk across the channel in such a manner as to completely block it.

The plan was a good one; but yet it seemed certain death for those who should attempt to carry it out as proposed. Lieutenant Hobson, however, claimed that, if the scheme was accepted, he should by right be allowed to take command of the enterprise.

The end to be attained was so great that Admiral Sampson decided that the lives of six or seven men could not be allowed to outweigh the advantage to be gained, and Lieutenant Hobson was notified that his services were accepted; the big steamer was at his disposal to do with as he saw fit.

June 11. The preliminary work of this desperate undertaking was a strain upon the officers and men. On Wednesday morning the preparations to scuttle the Merrimac in the channel were commenced. All day long crews from the New York and Brooklyn were on board the collier, never resting in their efforts to prepare her. She lay alongside the Massachusetts, discharging coal, when the work was first begun.

The news of the intended expedition travelled quickly through the fleet, and it soon became known that volunteers were needed for a desperate undertaking. From the Iowa’s signal-yard quickly fluttered the announcement that she had 140 volunteers, and the other ships were not far behind. On the New York the enthusiasm was intense. Over two hundred members of the crew volunteered to go into that narrow harbour and face death. The junior officers literally tumbled over each other in their eagerness to get their names on the volunteer list.

When it was learned that only six men and Lieutenant Hobson were to go, there was much disappointment on all sides. All Wednesday night the crews worked on board the Merrimac; and the other ships, as they passed the collier, before sundown, cheered her. Lieutenant Hobson paid a brief visit to the flag-ship shortly before midnight, and then returned to the Merrimac.

While on board the flag-ship Lieutenant Hobson thus detailed his plan of action:

“I shall go right into the harbour until about four hundred yards past the Estrella battery, which is behind Morro Castle. I do not think they can sink me before I reach somewhere near that point. The Merrimac has seven thousand tons buoyancy, and I shall keep her full speed ahead. She can make about ten knots. When the narrowest part of the channel is reached I shall put her helm hard aport, stop the engines, drop the anchors, open the sea connections, touch off the torpedoes, and leave the Merrimac a wreck, lying athwart the channel, which is not as broad as the Merrimac is long. There are ten 8-inch improvised torpedoes below the water-line, on the Merrimac’s port-side. They are placed on her side against the bulk-heads and vital spots, connected with each other by a wire under the ship’s keel. Each torpedo contains eighty-two pounds of gunpowder. Each torpedo is also connected with the bridge; they should do their work in a minute, and it will be quick work even if done in a minute and a quarter.

“On deck there will be four men and myself. In the engine-room there will be two other men. This is the total crew, and all of us will be in our underclothing, with revolvers and ammunition in water-tight packing strapped around our waists. Forward there will be a man on deck, and around his waist will be a line, the other end of the line being made fast to the bridge, where I will stand. By that man’s side will be an axe. When I stop the engines I shall jerk this cord, and he will thus get the signal to cut the lashing which will be holding the forward anchor. He will then jump overboard and swim to the four-oared dingy, which we shall tow astern. The dingy is full of life-buoys, and is unsinkable. In it are rifles. It is to be held by two ropes, one made fast at her bow and one at her stern. The first man to reach her will haul in the tow-line and pull the dingy to starboard. The next to leave the ship are the rest of the crew. The quartermaster at the wheel will not leave until after having put it hard aport, and lashed it so; he will then jump overboard.

“Down below, the man at the reversing gear will stop the engines, scramble up on deck, and get over the side as quickly as he is able. The man in the engine-room will break open the sea connections with a sledge-hammer, and will follow his leader into the water. This last step ensures the sinking of the Merrimac whether the torpedoes work or not. By this time I calculate the six men will be in the dingy and the Merrimac will have swung athwart the channel, to the full length of her three hundred yards of cable, which will have been paid out before the anchors are cut loose. Then, all that is left for me is to touch the button. I shall stand on the starboard side of the bridge. The explosion will throw the Merrimac on her starboard side. Nothing on this side of New York City will be able to raise her after that.”

In reply to frequent questions, Hobson said:

“I suppose the Estrella battery will fire down on us a bit, but the ships will throw their search-lights in the gunners’ faces, and they won’t see much of us. If we are torpedoed we should even then be able to make the desired position in the channel. It won’t be easy to hit us, and I think the men should be able to swim to the dingy. I may jump before I am blown up. But I don’t see that it makes much difference what I do. I have a fair chance of life either way. If our dingy gets shot to pieces we shall then try to swim for the beach right under Morro Castle. We shall keep together at all hazards. Then we may be able to make our way alongside, and perhaps get back to the ship. We shall fight the sentries or a squad until the last, and shall only surrender to overwhelming numbers, and our surrender will only take place as a last and almost uncontemplated emergency.”

The volunteers accepted for this most hazardous enterprise were, after Lieutenant Hobson: George F. Phillips, machinist on the Merrimac; Francis Kelly, water tender on the Merrimac; Randolph Clausen, coxswain on the New York; George Charette, first-class gunner’s mate on the New York; Daniel Montague, first-class machinist on the New York; Osburn Deignan, coxswain on the Merrimac; J. C. Murphy, coxswain on the Iowa.

June 21. At three o’clock in the morning the admiral and Flag Lieutenant Staunton got into the launch to make an inspection of the Merrimac. The working gangs were still on board of her, and the officers of the flag-ship stood with their glasses focused on the big black hull that was to form an impassable obstacle for Spain’s best ships.

The minutes slipped by, the crews had not completed their work on the Merrimac, but at last a boatload of men, black and tired out, came over to the flag-ship. Last of all, at 4.30, came the admiral. He had been delayed by a breakdown of the steam launch.

Dawn was breaking over Santiago de Cuba, and nearly everybody thought it was too late for the attempt to be made that morning. Then somebody cried:

“She is going in.”

Surely enough, the seemingly deserted collier was seen heading straight for Morro Castle. A few moments later, however, she was recalled by Admiral Sampson, who thought it sure death for Hobson to venture in at that hour. The Merrimac did not return at once. Word came back:

“Lieutenant Hobson asks permission to continue on his course. He thinks he can make it.”

The admiral sent Hobson a message to the effect that the Merrimac must return at once, and in due course of time the doomed collier slowly steamed back, her commander evidently disappointed with the order. All day Thursday the collier lay near the flag-ship, and more elaborate preparations were made to carry out the mission of the Merrimac successfully. During these preparations Hobson was cool and confident, supervising personally every little detail.

When, finally, he went on board the Merrimac Thursday night, he had been without sleep since Wednesday morning. His uniform was begrimed, his hands were black, and he looked like a man who had been hard at work in and about an engine-room for a long time. As he said good-bye, the lieutenant remarked that his only regret was that all of the New York’s volunteers could not go with him.

June 3. The hazardous voyage was begun at three o’clock Friday morning. The Merrimac was lying to the westward. Under cover of the clouds over the moon, she stole in toward the coast and made her way to the eastward, followed by a steam launch from the New York, with the following crew on board: Naval Cadet J. W. Powell, of Oswego, N. Y.; P. K. Peterson, coxswain; H. Handford, apprentice of the first class; J. Mullings, coal passer; G. L. Russell, machinist of the second class. In the launch were bandages and appliances for the wounded.

From the crowded decks of the New York nothing could be seen of the Merrimac after she got under the shadow of the hills. For half an hour officers and men strained their eyes peering into the gloom, when, suddenly, the flash of a gun streamed out from Morro Castle, and then all on board the New York knew the Merrimac was nearing her end.

The guns from the Spanish battery opposite Morro Castle answered quickly with more flashes, and for about twenty minutes tongues of fire seemed to leap across the harbour entrance. The flag-ship was too far away to hear the reports, and when the firing ceased it was judged that Hobson had blown up the Merrimac.

During an hour the anxious watchers waited for daylight. Rear-Admiral Sampson and Captain Chadwick were on the bridge of the New York during the entire time. At five o’clock thin streams of smoke were seen against the western shore, quite close to the Spanish batteries, and strong glasses made out the launch of the New York returning to the flag-ship.

Scarcely had the small craft been sighted before a puff of smoke issued from a battery on the western arm of the harbour, and a shot plunged far over the launch. Then for fifteen minutes the big guns ashore kept up an irregular fire on the little craft. As the shells fell without hitting the object for which they were intended, the men on board the New York jeered at the Spanish marksmanship, and cheered their shipmates.

At 6.15 the launch came alongside the flag-ship, but she did not have on board any of the Merrimac’s crew. Cadet Powell reported that he had been unable to see any of the men. It was learned that the cadet had gone directly under the batteries, and only returned when he found his efforts were useless.

He also reported that he had clearly seen the Merrimac’s masts sticking up just where Hobson hoped to sink her, north of the Estrella battery, and well past the guns of Morro Castle.

Cadet Powell thus related the last interview he had with the officer whom it seemed certain had voluntarily gone to his death:

“Lieutenant Hobson took a short sleep for a few hours, which was often interrupted. At a quarter before two he came on deck and made a final inspection, giving his last instructions. Then we had a little lunch. Hobson was as cool as a cucumber. At about half past two I took the men who were not going on the trip into the launch, and started for the Texas, the nearest ship, but had to go back for one of the assistant engineers, whom Hobson finally compelled to leave. I shook hands with Hobson last of all. He said:

“ ‘Powell, watch the boat’s crew when we pull out of the harbour. We will be cracks, pulling thirty strokes to the minute.’

“After leaving the Texas I saw the Merrimac steaming slowly in.

“It was only fairly dark then, and the shore was quite visible. We followed about three-quarters of a mile astern. The Merrimac stood about a mile to the westward of the harbour, and seemed a bit mixed, turning completely around, and finally heading to the east, she ran down and then turned in. We were then chasing him because I thought Hobson had lost his bearings.

“When Hobson was about two hundred yards from the harbour the first gun was fired, from the eastern bluff. We were then about half a mile offshore, and nearing the batteries. The firing increased rapidly. We steamed in slowly, and lost sight of the Merrimac in the smoke which the wind carried offshore. It hung heavily. Before Hobson could have blown up the Merrimac the western battery picked us up and commenced firing. They shot wild, however, and we ran in still farther to the shore until the gunners lost sight of us. Then we heard the explosion of the torpedoes on the Merrimac.

“Until daylight we waited just outside the breakers, half a mile to the westward of Morro, keeping a sharp lookout for the boat or for swimmers, but saw nothing. Hobson had arranged to meet us at that point, but thinking that some one might have drifted out, we crossed in front of Morro and the mouth of the harbour, to the eastward.

“At about five o’clock we crossed the harbour again, and stood to the westward. In passing we saw one spar of the Merrimac sticking out of the water. We hugged the shore just outside of the breakers for a mile, and then turned toward the Texas, when the batteries saw us and opened fire. It was then broad daylight. The first shot dropped thirty yards astern, but the others went wild. I drove the launch for all she was worth, finally making the New York. The men behaved splendidly.”

June 3. Later in the day a boat with a white flag put out from the harbour, and Captain Oviedo, chief of staff of Admiral Cervera, boarded the New York, and informed Admiral Sampson that the whole party had been captured; that only two were injured. Lieutenant Hobson was not hurt. The Spanish admiral was so impressed with the courage of the Merrimac’s crew that he decided to inform Admiral Sampson of the fact that they had not lost their lives, but were prisoners of war and could be exchanged.