there be not communicated to this government by that of Spain a full and satisfactory response to this demand and resolutions, whereby the ends of peace in Cuba shall be assured, the President will proceed without further notice to use the power and authority enjoined and conferred upon him by the said joint resolution to such an extent as may be necessary to carry the same into effect.
“This is Woodford’s telegram of this morning:
“ ‘To Sherman, Washington: – Early this morning (Tuesday), immediately after the receipt of your telegram, and before I communicated the same to the Spanish government, the Spanish Minister for Foreign Affairs notified me that diplomatic relations are broken between the two countries, and that all official communication between the respective representatives has ceased. I accordingly asked for my passports. Have turned the legation over to the British embassy, and leave for Paris this afternoon. Have notified consuls.
The Spanish newspapers applauded the “energy” of their government, and printed the paragraph inserted below as a semi-official statement from the throne:
“The Spanish government having received the ultimatum of the President of the United States, considers that the document constitutes a declaration of war against Spain, and that the proper form to be adopted is not to make any further reply, but to await the expiration of the time mentioned in the ultimatum before opening hostilities. In the meantime the Spanish authorities have placed their possessions in a state of defence, and their fleet is already on its way to meet that of the United States.”
April 21. General Woodford left Madrid late in the afternoon, and although an enormous throng of citizens were gathered at the railway station to witness his departure, no indignities were attempted. The people of Madrid professed the greatest enthusiasm for war, and the general opinion among the masses was that Spain would speedily vanquish the United States.
In Havana, in response to the manifesto from the palace, the citizens began early to decorate the public buildings and many private residences, balconies, and windows with the national colours. A general illumination followed, as on the occasion of a great national festivity. Early in the evening no less than eight thousand demonstrators filled the square opposite the palace, a committee entering and tendering to the captain-general, in the name of all, their estates, property, and lives in aid of the government, and pledging their readiness to fight the invader.
General Blanco thanked them in the name of the king, the queen regent and the imperial and colonial governments, assuring them that he would do everything in his power to prevent the invaders from setting foot in Cuba. “Otherwise I shall not live,” he said, in conclusion. “Do you swear to follow me to the fight?”
“Yes, yes, we do!” the crowd answered.
“Do you swear to give the last drop of blood in your veins before letting a foreigner step his foot on the land we discovered, and place his yoke upon the people we civilised?”
“Yes, yes, we do!”
“The enemy’s fleet is almost at Morro Castle, almost at the doors of Havana,” General Blanco added. “They have money; but we have blood to shed, and we are ready to shed it. We will throw them into the sea!”
The people interrupted him with cries of applause, and he finished his speech by shouting “Viva Espana!” “Viva el Rey!” “Long live the army, the navy, and the volunteers!”
The Congress of the United States passed a joint resolution authorising the President, in his discretion, to prohibit the exportation of coal and other war material. The measure was of great importance, because through it was prevented the shipment of coal to ports in the West Indies where it might be used by Spain.
April 22. At half past five o’clock in the morning the vessels composing the North Atlantic Squadron put to sea from Key West. The flag-ship New York led the way. Close behind her steamed the Iowa and the Indiana. Following the war-ships came the gunboat Machias, and then the Newport. The Amphitrite, the first of the fleet, lying close to shore, steamed out after the Machias, and then followed in order the Nashville, the Wilmington, the Castine, the Cincinnati, and the other boats of the fleet, save the monitors Terror and Puritan, which were coaling, the cruiser Marblehead, the despatch-boat Dolphin, and the gunboat Helena.
After getting out of sight of land the flag of a rear-admiral was hoisted over the New York, indicating to the fleet that Captain Sampson was acting as a rear-admiral. When in the open sea the fleet was divided into three divisions. The New York, Iowa, and Indiana had the position of honour. Stretching out to the right were the Montgomery, Wilmington, Newport, and smaller craft; to the left was the Nashville in the lead, followed by the Cincinnati, Castine, Machias, Mayflower, and some of the torpedo-boats.
At seven o’clock in the morning the first gun of the war was fired. The Nashville, which had been sailing at about six knots an hour, in obedience to orders, suddenly swung out of line. Clouds of black smoke poured from her long, slim stacks, her speed was gradually increased until the water ascended in fine spray on each side of the bow, and behind her trailed out a long, creamy streak on the quiet waters.
She was headed for a Spanish merchantman, which was then about half a mile away, apparently paying no heed to the monsters of war.
A shot from one of the 4-pounders was sent across the stranger’s bow, and then, no attention having been paid to it, a 6-inch gun was discharged. This last shot struck the water and bounded along the surface a mile or more, sending up great clouds of spray.
The Spaniard wisely concluded to heave to, and within five minutes a boat was lowered from the Nashville to put on board the first prize a crew of six men, under command of Ensign Magruder.
The captured vessel was the Buena Ventura, of 1,741 tons burthen; laden with lumber, valued at eleven thousand dollars, and carrying a deck-load of cattle.
The record of this first day of hostilities was not to end with one capture.
Late in the afternoon, almost within gunshot of the Cuban shore, while the United States fleet was standing toward Havana, with the Mayflower a mile or more in advance of the flag-ship New York, the merchant steamship Pedro hove in sight. The Mayflower suddenly swung sharply to the westward, and a moment later a string of butterfly flags went fluttering to her masthead.
The New York flung her answering pennant to the breeze, and, making another signal to the fleet, which probably meant “Stay where you are until I get back,” swung her bow to the westward and went racing for the game that the Mayflower had sighted. The big cruiser dashed forward, smoke trailing in dense masses from each of her three big funnels, a hill of foam around her bow, and in her wake a swell like a tidal wave. It was a winning pace, and a magnificent sight she presented as she dashed through the choppy seas with never an undulation of her long, graceful hull.
When she was well inshore a puff of smoke came from the bow of the cruiser, followed by a dull report, then another and another, until four shots had been sent from one of the small, rapid-fire guns. The Spanish steamer, probably believing the pursuing craft carried no heavier guns, was trying to keep at a safe distance until the friendly darkness of night should hide her from view. During sixty seconds or more the big cruiser held her course in silence, and then her entire bow was hidden from the spectators in a swirl of white smoke as a main battery gun roared out its demand.
The
