style="font-size:15px;"> April 27. On the twenty-seventh came information from Hongkong that the squadron had put to sea, and from that day until the seventh of May no word regarding the commodore’s movements had been received, save through Spanish sources.
Then came a cablegram containing the bare facts concerning the most complete naval victory the world had ever known. It was the first engagement of the war, and a crushing defeat for the enemy. It is not strange that the people, literally overwhelmed with joy, gave little heed to the movements of our forces elsewhere until the details of this marvellous fight could be sent under the oceans and across the countries, thousands of leagues in distance, describing the deeds of the heroes who had made their names famous so long as history shall exist.
During such time of waiting all were eager to familiarise themselves with the theatre of this scene of action, and every source of information was applied to until the bay of Manila had become as well known as the nearest home waters.
For a better understanding of the battle a rough diagram of the bay, from the entrance as far as the city of Manila, may not come amiss.
Twenty-six miles from the entrance to the bay is situated the city of Manila, through which the river Pasig runs, dividing what is known as the old city from the new, and forming several small islands.
Sixteen miles from the sea is the town and arsenal of Cavite, which, projecting as it does from the mainland, forms a most commodious and safe harbour. Cavite was well fortified, and directly opposite its fort, on the mainland, was a heavy mortar battery. Between the arsenal and the city was a Krupp battery, at what was known as the Luneta Fort, while further toward the sea, extending from Cavite to the outermost portion of Limbones Point, were shore-batteries, – formidable forts, so it had been given out by the Spanish government, such as would render the city of Manila impregnable.
Between Limbones and Talago Point are two islands, Corregidor and Caballo, which divide the entrance of the bay into three channels. On each of these islands is a lighthouse, and it was said that both were strongly fortified with modern guns. North of Corregidor, nearly opposite, but on the inner shore, is the point of San José, where was another water-battery mounting formidable guns. That channel between Corregidor and San José Point is known as the Boca Grande, and is nearly two miles wide. The middle channel, or the one situated between the two islands, is shallow, and but little used. The third, which separates Caballo Island from Limbones Point, is nearly three miles in width, at least twenty fathoms deep, and known as the Boca Chica.
All of these channels, as well as the waters of the bay, were said to have been thickly mined, and the enemy had caused it to be reported that no ship could safely enter without the aid of a government pilot.
In addition to the vessels of the American fleet, as set down at the conclusion of this chapter, were two transports, the steamers Nanshan and Zafiro, which had come into the port of Hongkong laden with coal shortly before Commodore Dewey’s departure, and had been purchased by him, together with their cargoes, in anticipation of the declaration of war.
And now, the details having been set down in order that what follows may be the better understood, we will come to that sultry Sunday morning, shortly after midnight, when the American fleet steamed along the coast toward the entrance to Manila Bay, the flag-ship Olympia leading, with the Baltimore, the Raleigh, the Petrel, the Concord, and the Boston following in the order named. In the rear of these came the two transports, the Nanshan and Zafiro, convoyed by the despatch steamer McCulloch.
The commodore had decided to enter by the Boca Grande channel, and the fleet kept well out from Talago Point until the great light of Corregidor came into view.
Then the crews of the war-vessels were summoned on deck, the men ordered to wash, and afterwards served with a cup of coffee. All lights were extinguished except one on the stern of each ship, and that was hooded. All hands were at quarters; all guns loaded, with extra charges ready at hand; every eye was strained, and every ear on the alert to catch the slightest sound.
Perhaps there was not a man from commodore to seaman, who believed it would be possible for the war-vessels to enter the bay without giving an alarm, and yet the big ships continued on and were nearly past Corregidor Island before a gun was fired.
The flag-ship was well into the bay, steaming at a four-knot speed, when from the smoke-stack of the little McCulloch a column of sparks shot up high into the air. In the run her fires had fallen low, and it became necessary to replenish them. The firemen, perhaps fearing lest they should not be in at the death, were more energetic than prudent, and thus a signal was given to the sleepy garrison of Corregidor.
“Perhaps they will see us now,” the commodore remarked, quietly, as his attention was called to this indiscretion.
A flash of light burst from the fort; there was a dull report, and in the air could be heard that peculiar singing and sighing of a flying projectile as a heavy missile passed over the Olympia and the Raleigh.
The garrison on Corregidor was awakened, but not until after the last vessel in that ominous procession had steamed past.
It was the first gun in the battle of Manila Bay, and it neither worked harm nor caused alarm.
Again and again in rapid succession came these flashes of light, dull reports, and sinister hummings in the air, before the American fleet gave heed that this signal to heave to had been heard.
Then a 4-inch shell was sent from the Concord directly inside of the fortification, where it exploded.
The Raleigh and the Boston each threw a shell by way of salute, and then all was silent.
The channel, which had been thickly mined, according to the Spanish reports, was passed in safety, and the fleet, looking so unsubstantial in the darkness, had yet to meet the mines in the bay, as well as the Spanish fleet, which all knew was lying somewhere near about the city.
On the forward bridge of the Olympia stood Commodore Dewey, his chief of staff, Commander Lamberton, Lieutenant Rees, Lieutenant Calkins, and an insurgent Filippino, who had volunteered as pilot.
In the conning-tower was Captain Gridley, who, much against his will, was forced to take up his position in that partially sheltered place because the commander of the fleet was not willing to take the chances that all the chief officers of the ship should be exposed to death on the bridge.
The word was given to “slow down,” and the speed of the big ships decreased until they had barely steerageway.
The men were allowed to sleep beside their guns.
The moon had set, the darkness and the silence was almost profound, until suddenly day broke, as it does in the tropics, like unto a flash of light, and all that bay, with its fighting-machines in readiness for the first signal, was disclosed to view.
From the masthead of the American vessels rose tiny balls of bunting, and then were broken out, disclosing the broad folds of the stars and stripes.
Cavite was hardly more than five miles ahead, and beyond, the city of Manila.
The Reina Christina, flying the Spanish rear-admiral’s flag, lay off the arsenal. Astern of her was moored the Castilla, her port battery ready for action. Slightly to seaward were the Don Juan de Austria, the Don Antonio de Ulloa, the Isla de Cuba and Isla de Luzon, the El Correo, the Marques del Duero, and the General Lezo.
They were under steam and slowly moving about,
