Having been requested to "ship" under a new rating and enter the lists as a narrator, it is with great misgivings that I submit herewith an account of my wanderings and doings as one of that class of American naval officers known during our war with Spain as "tug-boat skippers."
The title of "captain" could scarcely be bestowed upon one who, from necessity, more often resembled a canal-boat deck-hand in uniform than a naval officer of any nationality.
To begin at the beginning: When I reported to the New York Navy Yard on April 1, 1898, with orders directing me to report for duty as watch and division officer on board the U.S.S. Mayflower, I found that an "April-fool" had been prepared for me, and that I was to fit out and command the U. S. S. Algonquin. Not having the slightest idea what that vessel might be, I instituted a few inquiries, and, that evening, I beheld for the first time my future command, which turned out to be the old Morgan Line tug, El Toro. I wandered on board, and soon discovered that the "fitting out" would mean to supply her with everything, from a paper of tacks to a hawser or two.
A few more inquiries resulted in the information that there was no crew available for the Algonquin; however, I was also informed that she must be fitted out and gotten ready for sea at once, so steps had to be taken immediately.
Having required for a modest (?) amount of stores and obtained them, the next dilemma was how to get them from the storehouse to the boat.
I saw a very desirable-looking two-horse truck passing just then with "U.S.N." in letters on the harness. The driver of that truck received sudden and unexpected but peremptory orders from me to go at once to the store-house delivery room and load stores. He replied, "Can't do it, sir, I have orders…" when I interrupted him with "Have you any orders later than mine just given you?" He said that he had not, and, after some language had been spoken, he was in a proper state of submission.
The stores were loaded and taken to the dock, my long-unused muscles receiving some severe shocks during the loading and unloading. A vain effort was made by me to secure a working party for this work, so nothing remained to be done but for me to work myself, since the pay of an ensign does not warrant the employment of many laborers.
The stores were on the dock, the truck gone, and the boat handy, but I was really too tired to put them all on board myself, and had but just informed a sentry that, though I did not wish to give him any orders, the stores I was about to leave on the dock were government property and it might go hard with him if they were disturbed. Fortunately he was Irish, and, with a twinkle in his eye, replied: "Ahl roight sor, I'll watch 'em!"
I was off to beg a bite to eat, for it was past noon of April 2d, when a squad of enlisted men from the "Vermont," in working clothes, appeared, bound for the Cob Dock Ferry. Here was a chance too good to be lost. The petty officer in charge of that squad had an experience similar to that of the truck driver, but the stores were put on board the Algonquin, and while this was going on I made use of the telephone nearby to submit a request to the Vermont, that the dinner for the working party be saved, explaining what they were doing.
Something must have happened to that telephone wire just then, for a most confused sound came to my ear, not unlike broken profanity, but, as the next thing I caught was about "these trade-dollar Captains," I decided that there had really been no profanity, and was further relieved when I made out "All right!" in tones I recognized as belonging to Lieut. H.H. Hosley, U.S.N.
Having reported to the commandant that the stores were aboard, I was informed that some men would be over from the Vermont, and that the boat would be put in commission at two o'clock.
This was all done, and I think six as verdant-looking men as I ever saw appeared. After the function was over they were told to stow stores, and their nice new mustering-clothes soon became worthy of a tug-boat. So much for fitting out.
Additions to this crew soon came aboard, and, with the exception of a man who could run engines, I was told I was all fixed in that respect.
A machinist was borrowed, however, and, with the compass officers on board, the Algonquin went out in East River to adjust her new compass. I have never learned just exactly what the ferry boat captains thought that day, but from their expressions they surely thought the. Algonquin had run amuck.
The night of April third, as I was leaving the boat, a portly man in bluejacket's uniform, and wearing a very large smile of welcome, met me and said, "Are you Cap of this yere boat?"
He was informed that such was the case, when a large hand was put out with the remark, "Well, Cap, I'm glad to see yer, I'm yer Chief!" It took me nearly a minute to ascertain that the "chief" had never been to sea.
This addition was followed by the arrival of a mate, aged sixty-one years, who informed me that he had not been to sea for twenty-five years. He had orders to report for duty on the Algonquin, and was to assist (?) the commanding officer in navigating her to Key West.
The crew was now considered complete, though only two of the men had been in the Navy before, and only four had been following the sea. We coaled and took ammunition; then, in the afternoon of April fourth, started for Key West.
The Nezinscott, another converted tug, commanded by Lieut. York Noel, U. S. N., followed the Algonquin out of the Navy Yard, but the usual "something" happened in the Buttermilk Channel, and my last sight of her at that time showed her heading for the Brooklyn wharves. There was no reason why I should wait for the Nezinscott, so the Algonquin was headed for Scotland Light Ship, reaching it about eight P. M.
At ten o'clock I turned in, with instructions to the mate to call me at two A. M., but they were not necessary, for about that time I was thrown from my bunk, and awakened to the fact that the Algonquin was in trouble. That trouble continued, growing worse, till twelve hours later, when we anchored behind the Delaware breakwater to rest, and to pump her out—a light one-inch pine hatch-cover having failed to keep out several big seas.
When a smooth time came, twenty hours later, we started south again, and reached Port Royal just in time to allow the Nezinscott to catch us.
We left Port Royal in company and met more weather; it was decided that, the Nezinscott being larger and faster, better time could be made if she towed the Algonquin. This worked very well till the Nezinscott broke down, when the poor little Algonquin had to tow her till the fleet off Sand Key Light was sighted, on the morning of April thirteenth.
After resting at Key West, and patching up the Algonquin, we started a trolley service to Havana and return. We towed captured schooners, carried dispatches and provisions, and once—started to take some laundry over.
I have always considered that the owners of that laundry were fortunate in one thing—that is, they were able to learn what had become of it, for the Algonquin tried very hard to sink on that trip, as she had tried before. It has been reported that the laundry was thrown overboard. This is not the case. One of the many seas which swept entirely over the Algonquin carried away laundry boxes, lashings and all. This, too, when these boxes were lashed on top of the deck house.
On that trip the Algonquin left Key West under protest, so heavily loaded with stores and provisions that the water came up through the scuppers and flooded the water-ways when she was in still water in the harbor.
It is due to Captain R.D. Evans, U.S.N., of the Iowa, that the Algonquin ever reached Key West that trip, for she was rapidly filling, and I had picked out a nice soft spot in Cuba to beach her, hoping to attract the attention of one of our blockading vessels before I attracted the attention of any overzealous Spaniards.
While the Iowa towed us to Key West, all hands on the Algonquin, including her commanding officer, were busily engaged in throwing dirty, black water out of her. The decks were open, the seas went into the bilges by way of the coal bunkers, and the pumps refused to work when called upon to eject coal and water mixed.
We went to a dry dock at the Key West Naval Station, with about a foot of water under the keel, tied up, and all hands went to sleep. By actual count I had not slept for fifty hours, and my sleep previous to that had been most broken. I slept sixteen hours during that first nap I took in Key West, and enjoyed the sensation.
A member of the fleet staff had suggested to me that I take the tug Leyden, which was well known to be a good sea boat, but was as yet unarmed. That seemed to be a most desirable change, but when I awoke from one of my prolonged naps, the New York had sailed for Porto Rico. Here was another dilemma.
The commander-in-chief had declared the Algonquin to be unfit for the duty upon which she had been engaged. It was evidently the intention of those in authority that I make an effort "to command the Leyden. That vessel was useless without guns of some sort, but I soon learned that two three-pounders had been sent to Key West for her. In the same shipment came two six-pounders for another vessel, and they looked to me to be much more desirable than the smaller guns. The night was dark, and in the morning the tags marked "For the Leyden" were found upon the larger guns.
That seemed to be a good start, so, with the approval of the senior officer present, I telegraphed the state of affairs to the Secretary of the Navy, and was much pleased when a return telegram placed me in command of the Leyden.
Two six-pounders did not seem enough for a five hundred-ton boat, so I looked around for other guns, but the largest I could find was a six mm. Colt automatic, which really went very well on top of the pilot house.
Guns were very scarce at that time, and when I counted my new crew I found just half enough men to man those guns that I had.
Men were scarce also, but I found a few, and they became additions to the Leyden's crew.
One man I had borrowed while on the Algonquin. He had been a water-tender on the torpedo-boat Porter, while I was serving on that vessel, and his capabilities were well known to me, so that, when I saw him in Key West, a convalescent living in the Marine Hospital, I decided that I needed his services more than they were needed on the Porter, that vessel having gone to Porto Rico with complement filled.
With faith that the Surgeon in charge of the Marine Hospital knew little of naval red tape, and feeling sure he did not know the tonnage of the Algonquin, I informed him by telephone that I needed this man at once, and hoped that he would send him down immediately. There were, of course, some objections, but apparently my voice did not betray my lack of age and rank, for I got the man, and a good stroke it was. I considered that I owned that man's services, so took him with me to the Leyden and he never made me feel other than very glad I had done so.
My first duty on the Leyden was thrust upon me at two o'clock one morning, when I was suddenly ordered to the Cuban Coast to deliver dispatches to a flag officer.
None of the authorities in Key West knew where this flag officer was to be found. Neither did I. Upon asking what coal, water and provisions I would require, I was informed that I would surely be back within three days and need take none, so I went without them, since one can't well deal with Key West merchants before daylight. The next time I entered Key West harbor was just twenty-two days from that day.
Proceeding off Havana, I found that the commodore had gone to the eastward, but no one knew how far, or for how long, so east was the next course till off Matanzas, but still no flagship or knowledge of her whereabouts. We spoke the senior officer's vessel here and again started east. It was an exceedingly dark night, and we were fortunate indeed in picking up a vessel off Cardenas which proved to be the Dolphin, with the commodore on board, otherwise we might have "gone east" for some time.
I was asked how long I could remain on blockade duty, and replied not longer than a week, since I had neither coal nor water for longer, not having been able to obtain them. This seemed satisfactory and the Leyden was ordered to relieve the Foote in the blockade of Cardenas.
I was fortunate enough to find the revenue cutter Fludson here, and learned much of the surroundings from Captain Newcomb in the one day he was left on that station.
After the Hudson left all went on with the usual monotonous blockade routine till my week was nearly up, and no sign of a relief. In the meantime I had formally taken possession of Piedras Cay, and an enormous American flag was flying from the light-house thereupon.
A well-filled cistern relieved the water question and, instead of "battery instruction," the Leyden's crew had constant boat drill, incidentally bringing on board about ten thousand gallons of fresh water, also an iron water-tank which increased the fresh water capacity by five hundred gallons (also some other things).
The coal was carefully nursed, but the provisions were nearly expended, so we led some live stock to the slaughter. Fresh pork, mutton (goat!) and chickens were indeed luxuries, but we found all these, and borrowed them, too.
We would have been willing to pay for them, but our accounts were in Porto Rican waters, and we had no money; besides, the owners did not, after the first round, seem at all inclined to come close enough to receive payment. Some starving (?) Cuban officers furnished us with some very acceptable beef, also, which had recently been Spanish property.
In time, both food and coal gave out. A collier came along at an opportune moment and saved us a trip to Key West for coal. Mono Cay, and the birds’ eggs thereupon did the rest. (Sea gull's eggs are good when there is nothing else to eat.)
During these days many attempts were made to decoy the Spanish boats in Cardenas Harbor within range, or to catch them outside. There were only three of them left, since the fight with the Wilmington, Winslow and Hudson, and none, of them were smaller than the Leyden, so it must have been that they considered one little armed tug beneath their notice.
Not a man in the Leyden's crew had fired a six-pounder, or knew anything about such a gun when we sailed from Key West. By this time each gun-captain knew that he could hit a blockhouse every time, their course of instruction in this particular having been entered in the log as "target practice upon Spanish block-houses along the beach."
We were fortunate enough to pick up a small boat filled with Cubans, one, Senor Ernestro Castro, being a messenger from the Cuban Junta on his return trip to the States, the others being Cuban officers and soldiers.
One of the officers. Captain M.F. Rubalcaba, was a man of most pleasing personality. A residence of eighteen years in the United States had done much for him in this respect, and we became fast friends. Through him I established communication with the Cubans ashore, and was able to get much valuable information from them. Captain Rubalcaba was a capital pilot for those waters, having owned a yacht, and knew all the blockhouses which had no ordnance. He was most delighted when a shot fired by him demolished the roof of a block-house and scattered the pieces over a squad of Spaniards.
During this time the Leyden received a few scars, but no one was hurt, and the practice proved of great value to the crew. The men developed a very comforting contempt for Spanish marksmanship.
When the collier's offering was nearly used up nothing could be done but go to Key West for coal. I had at last decided that the Leyden was forgotten, and consequently would not be relieved.
Before I was obliged to leave, the Uncas, commanded by Lieut. F.R. Brainard, U.S.N, joined company from Matanzas, and Spanish block-houses on our beat grew scarce. We were informed by our Cuban friends that the Spaniards were most anxious to catch us, but they must have been waiting till another American vessel joined us, so the fight would be even, for the three Spanish boats kept well out of our way.
The Cubans also told us that we had hurt a great many Spaniards, some so badly they never felt it, but of course this was unintentional on our part, for we considered it all as only necessary target practice.
After the Uncas left, knowing that I must also leave the next day, I made a last effort to trap the Spanish boats.
I had learned from the Cubans that these boats came out every night to the channel through which the Wilmington, Winslow and Hudson had passed, and were engaged in filling this channel with obstructions.
It had been the custom for the Leyden to snugly anchor at Piedras Cay by day, light a deck lantern in the light-house in the evening, then stand by with anchor up to see that no one put the light out during the night. The morning in question at three o'clock, when it was very dark, the Leyden steamed in as close as possible off the western end of Cay Blanco, and, lying hove to in two fathoms of water, waited for daylight, all hands standing by the guns. With the first glimpse of day we saw our Spanish friends, just within range, but they did not stay there long. Some flying splinters on board one of them showed us a hit, but more we could not see. Our misfortune lay in drawing eleven feet of water and not having that depth in which to chase them.
It was with considerable disgust that we started west, also with enormous appetites. There were seven tons of coal in the bunkers, four tons of which were necessary to reach Key West under the most favorable conditions. We got in all right, but the Key West Hotel did not make money by having me as a guest at that first meal I took.
We stayed in Key West just long enough to fill coal bunkers, water-tanks, and provision lockers, when we departed for our Cardenas beat. It seems but fair that I should here mention some additions to complement and armament which were accumulated at this time.
I found another gun; this time it was a Maxim-Nordenfeldt one-pounder, automatic, and it filled a long-felt want. A four-inch gun would have been more acceptable, but there were reasons why we did not get one—one reason was that I could not find any; another, that it would have been difficult to get it on board unseen.
Those officers who have served in "one-officer boats" will appreciate my delight when I learned that a commissioned officer had been ordered to report for duty on the Leyden. When he reported, and I discovered that he had never seen a sea-going compass, I had some misgivings. Unfortunately they were more than warranted, and this officer did not remain in the Leyden any longer than was necessary.
While on the blockade it was my custom to chase everything sighted till certain of the identity of the stranger.
Upon our return to Cardenas, one evening just before dark, the New York, with some small vessels, had gone to the eastward, and been chased by the Leyden till their identity was unmistakable. Shortly after turning about for the Cardenas beat, a strange vessel, with two military masts and two smoke-stacks, was seen to the westward, heading our way. That looked like one of those breaches meant for tugboats, and a course was set to intercept the stranger. Imagine our disgust when we read her number, and realized that we were looking at the U.S.S. New Orleans for the first time.
A few nights after, when a season of unusual quiet had made us anxious for an exciting chase, with a possible prize at the end of it, a light was seen to the northward. We gave chase and lost the light; keeping our course the light was seen again to the eastward, and away we went after it. This was about eleven o'clock, and we chased that fellow till one A.M., seeing his light at intervals. When it seemed that he must hear a shot a "blank" was fired. Soon after that there were plenty of lights, and I was able to make out a pair of top lights. More dilemmas. If it were a steamer trying to escape the top lights might be a ruse; if it turned out to be a man-of-war, then I might get into trouble.
The former solution seemed possible, and, as she did not seem to slow down, a shell was fired directly over her. That had an immediate effect, for we could see that her helm was put over, and she swung around, showing a natty looking man-of-war, which I recognized as H.B.M.S. "Talbot," now within hailing distance!
There was some conversation between the two vessels by aid of megaphones, at the end of which I apologized to the commanding officer of the Talbot, but stating the necessity of learning the identity of his vessel; then it was "hard-a-starboard," and back to Cardenas.
Though the Leyden had made her best speed, fourteen knots, while chasing the Talbot, she made scarcely ten knots on the return trip, all hands below as well as on deck, being fairly disgusted at the thought that the episode was only another case of fancied prize which had vanished in thin air.
Some days we overhauled and boarded as many as five vessels, but no prizes came our way. Shortly after the Talbot affair, while steaming slowly off Matanzas, in a rough sea, an unusually heavy sea caught the Leyden's stern, and the quartermaster at the wheel reported it jammed. By going over the stern in a bowline, and getting a good soaking for my pains, I discovered that the balanced rudder was badly bent, with almost a permanent hard-aport helm. The nearest American vessel was off Havana, and it would not be easy to get there.
By towing an empty barrel at the end of a long hawser, by use of the fore-and-aft sails, and by stopping to get a fresh start occasionally, we managed to reach our vessels just at dark. Our course down the Cuban Coast that day was an affair of scallops, and we covered many miles to make good a few.
Heaving to, off Havana for the night, the Machias towed us next day to Key West, where we spent two days "borrowing" lumber, and rigging a jury rudder.
The converted yacht Oneida was in port, bound for Mobile, Ala., to repair boilers. The Leyden must go to the same place to be docked, so an arrangement was made whereby we might assist each other. The Oneida made fast to the Leyden's quarter, and we finally got out the Northwest Passage to Key West harbor, but Lieutenant Miller and myself learned much on the way out.
Towing the Oneida by two lines, the Leyden averaged ten knots, and we anchored off the entrance to Mobile Bay at night, with all available lights burning, and the private signal for the day showing. This was to convince the forts that we were friends, but, as I learned later, we were nearly fired upon for our pains, the reason being that our lists of private signals (the latest issued) did not correspond with the list at the fort.
The trip up the "ditch" to Mobile was quite exciting, but we finally tied up to the dock, and began to interview dock-masters.
The Leyden was docked, the rudder removed and straightened, a new shoe was put on, and the rudder replaced. Better or faster work of this kind I have not seen, and in six days we were again bound for Key West.
Mobile offered new opportunities to obtain men, and two splendid additions to the crew were made.
Upon arriving at Key West I received orders to prepare for a trip to Santiago, and within twenty hours all was ready. We sailed as part of a convoy, the Leyden towing an unmanageable transport named the Unionist. A large part of the time we were towing the bight of the hawser, for it seemed that the transport could not possibly steer a course.
All went fairly well, and we kept ahead of the slower transports till we struck heavy weather, then the fun began. Finally, we had to cast off the tow line and stand by the Unionist. The other vessels disappeared ahead, but we finally got the Unionist around Cape Maisi, and caught the convoy off Guantanamo Bay, going that night to Siboney.
The next day began the most unpleasant and wearing duty yet thrust upon us. Several hundred troops, all volunteers without visible discipline, were landed, as well as many car-loads of stores, and it was a great relief when we were ordered to trans port fifty thirteen-inch shells from the St. Paul to the Oregon. Thirteen-inch shells are easier to handle than volunteers whose officers will not help.
Leyden was the only craft of her kind available, and for five days it was a case of "all hands," night and day, till we were in a state of physical collapse. I doubt whether a soul on board slept three consecutive hours during that time; I know that I did not. One night, in the hopes of getting a good rest, and in fancied security, the Leyden was anchored at Siboney with two anchors, one having proved insufficient to hold her.
I had just gone to sleep when a squall came along, caused two transports to drag their anchors, and a flash of lightning showed their sterns on either beam of the Leyden and drifting together. To stop to get the anchors would be suicidal, and we could not spare them, so the "jingle bell astern" was rung, and we slipped out between those transports just as they came together and sawed a few pieces of the upper works out of each, also smashing a boat astern of one of them.
The Leyden's stern was now in fourteen feet of water, with quite a swell running, and the rocks about fifty feet away. It was not a good place to stay.
We finally got those anchors in sight, and they were foul. One had dragged over the other, so securely locking their flukes that several hours of work by dark, in rough water, could not even loosen them. The derrick was rigged, the tangled mass of anchors and chain hoisted aboard, lashed to the deck, and a few of the men had some sleep before daylight. We cleared the anchors all right, but such incidents were not needed to keep us engaged, and we resented them.
A bit of a yarn is told upon me by a naval officer who was a passenger on the Leyden at that time. While engaged in landing troops, at the end of one day when I had been especially harassed, I had made vain appeals to the officers of the volunteers to take charge of their men, and direct them in the disembarking.
It seemed that the men were in no particular hurry to get on shore, so I took charge of them. While I was "taking charge" one of the volunteer officers asked my passenger: "Is the Captain of this boat a graduate of the Naval Academy?" Upon being informed that such was the case, he remarked: "Say, he is awfully profane, isn't he?"
[IMAGE: SINKING OF THE SPANISH CRUISER JORGE JUAN BY THE U. S. S. EYDEN AND THE U. S. S. WASP, BAY OF NIPE, CUBA, JULY 21, 1898.
TAKEN FROM U. S. S. LEYDEN.
The small boat under the Stern of the Sinking Vessel is the Leyden's gig, recovering the Spanish Colors.]
Captain Steele, of the First Illinois was a marked exception among the volunteer officers. He proved to be of such great value in the landing that he remained on board as my guest till I had finished with his regiment. He acted like a naval officer.
Finally, our unthanked efforts in behalf of the Army ceased, because there was no senior naval officer present, and I went to Santiago, reporting to the commander-in-chief.
It was with great joy that I received orders to prepare to join an expedition to the Bay of Nipe, though as much fun as developed was scarcely anticipated.
The Annapolis, Wasp and Leyden left Guantanamo Bay in company and finally arrived off Nipe Bay, finding the Topeka outside.
My orders read that I was to assist in removing mines at the entrance to that bay, instead of which I was asked if I would enter the bay. Of course I desired to do that, and was greatly disappointed when I saw the Wasp coming after, evidently bound upon the same errand. Later I was glad enough that Lieut. Aaron Ward and his Wasp were so near, for the first thing I saw when I could see around the headland was a vessel flying the Spanish flag, and pouring black smoke out of her smoke-stack. The water was absolutely smooth, and the conditions favorable to a mirage, so the Spaniard looked somewhat larger than the U.S.S. Iowa.
Communicating with Lieutenant Ward by megaphone, we decided that she did not look too big to try, at any rate, so we tried.
Our six and one-pounders did considerable damage, as we could plainly see, and some shots from the Spaniards fell so close to the Leyden that water was splashed aboard. One shot passed through the Leyden's awning, but when the Annapolis and the Topeka came in the Spaniard was sinking, and there was but little for them to do. I was fortunate enough to get alongside the enemy before she sank, and secured her colors and her Jack.
Thus ended the Spanish Cruiser Don Jorge Juan, though some few relics from her are now in different parts of the United States.
We saw no mines while entering Nipe Bay, for I believe we steamed too fast to see them, but on coming out, and upon entering at a later day, we counted five, similar to those recovered at Guantanamo Bay, in an exceedingly narrow channel. I don't know just why we did not hit them when we went in the first time, but I think luck was with us.
From Nipe Bay the Leyden was ordered to accompany the monitors Puritan and Amphitrite to Cape San Juan, which she did, stopping at Cape Haitien with them to coal.
Upon reaching the rendezvous at Cape San Juan, we found that it was for us alone. There were no transports there, except two, which, I believe, claimed to be lost, and after a wait, the Leyden was sent to St. Thomas to communicate with the Department.
After twenty-four hours' stay and no reply to the telegram I had sent, the air pump broke down officially, and, though not less than one hundred pounds of steam were ready at all times, and not less than half the crew awake always, that air pump did not recover (officially) till the telegram from Washington came.
An incident happened at St. Thomas. A Danish official, with whom I was on the most friendly terms, informed me privately and unofficially, after a two days' stay, that the authorities knew what I was waiting for, and that he firmly believed they would hold the Leyden till the war was over, unless she went out the next day. I asked: "Hold me with what?" He pointed to the Danish Cruiser "St. Thomas," lying in the harbor, and looked quite dumbfounded when he was informed that the Leyden would not go out till her air pump was repaired, and that, if a hostile move were made on the St. Thomas when she did go out, the effect of five hundred tons, travelling at the rate of fourteen knots per hour, and suddenly stopped, would be fully demonstrated.
All hands knew just when the Leyden would sail, but no effort was made to stop her.
Returning to Cape San Juan with information from the Department to the senior officer present, the Leyden was left there with the Amphitrite, the other vessels going to Ponce.
The Leyden was detailed to lie close in shore, near the Port of Fajardo, in water too shoal for a larger vessel, and communication was established with the natives. The Spanish troops had left, but there were rumors that they were returning in force. These rumors were verified, but we could not learn the exact numbers of the Spaniards, and, as a body of men from the Amphitrite, under the command of Lieutenant Atwater, was occupying the light-house, it seemed desirable to know the force of the enemy.
I obtained permission to investigate this matter, and again went close in shore, driving back the squad of Spaniards which had put in an appearance at the port, and, accompanied by Naval Cadet Austin Kautz, U.S.N., and an enlisted man as interpreter, both of whom volunteered for the duty, went on shore.
We "borrowed" three fairly good horses, and went up the road to the City of Fajardo far enough to get a very good idea of the force of the Spaniards. Returning, I communicated this information, and the force at the light-house was doubled.
The Cincinnati and a collier had come in to the anchorage near the light-house, and the Leyden was moved out near them, so that the four vessels commanded the neck of land leading to the point the Amphitrite's men were holding. About midnight the Spaniards attacked them, and the Maxim-Nordenfeldt proved to be of more value than a four-inch would have been. None of the Americans were hurt, but we learned later that several Spaniards had been killed.
At daylight the Leyden steamed slowly along the beach, and took on board sixty-seven refugees, members of prominent families in that neighborhood, who had sought protection at the light-house.
With these she went to Ponce, and turned them over to the Army authorities, for there w-ere not accommodations on the Leyden sufficient to keep this large party long.
That trip was one long to be remembered. About fifty of the refugees were women and children; the boat was small, and the sea rough, in fact, very rough. It required several days to entirely remove the traces of that short trip.
At this time hostilities had ceased, and, after a week of hard work assisting in pulling transports off the beach, transporting anchors, etc., etc., we received information which caused us to borrow bunting and construct a homeward bound pennant.
This we were allowed to use, and the Leyden had a safe and comfortable trip to Newport, R.I, where she was placed out of commission on September 5, 1898. In nearest round numbers I had finished a cruise of twenty-three thousand miles in five months, and had lost much rest, so that a few days of quiet were greatly appreciated. Lentil the middle of July I was the only officer attached to the vessel upon which I served, but at that time an ensign and three naval cadets, all Naval Academy men, were ordered to the Leyden. They were Ensign M. St. C. Ellis, Naval Cadets Austin Kautz, S.W. Bryant and J.C. Kress, and their abilities greatly lessened my work.
Later a paymaster was ordered to the Leyden, Assistant Paymaster W.H. Bell, and this relieved a long-felt want, for we had been for many weeks so far from our accounts that cash was an unknown quantity.
Among the unfortunate personal inconveniences suffered through the war, and as a climax to them, was the loss of nearly my entire outfit of uniforms and clothing, and in such a manner that I cannot be reimbursed by the Government.
I have been unkindly accused of stealing guns, ammunition, fenders, lumber, etc., but I am quite safe in asserting that I stole nothing. I borrowed some few things for Government use, and such as were not legitimately expended are now in possession of U. S. Naval Officers and may be found at Newport, R. I., at the Torpedo Station, if they have not been removed elsewhere since September last.
And now, with complete faith that we shall have no more wars within the next few years, my final request is that, if we do fight, I may be allowed to fit out and command the U. S. Tug Leyden.