Editor’s Note—The author of this letter was correspondent of the Chicago Record in the Far East and was on the Olympia during the Battle of Manila Bay. The letter was written to Mr. William R. Mathews, editor and publisher of the Arizona Daily Star, of Tucson, under the following circumstances:
“Several weeks ago I got into a dispute with one of our historians at the University of Arizona on the matter of what happened between Admiral Dewey and the Germans in Manila Bay. The historian told me of Mr. Bailey’s article in the October number of the American Historical Review, but even before reading that I wrote my friend John T. McCutcheon, cartoonist with the Chicago Tribune, for an account of his eyewitness testimony. I am enclosing a copy of this letter by Mr. McCutcheon, which is so full of valuable information that I think it is worthy of publication m your Proceedings.”
It is rather a long story, but I shall take a chance on sending you some of the impressions that remain fairly clear m my memory. In looking back upon those pregnant days which contained so much of chess play between the British and the Germans, I realize how very innocent I was. I could comprehend the things on the surface, but I could not understand the subtleties of international Policies or Weltpolitik that lay underneath. Also, I think very few of us suspected that the United States became a world power on May 1. Certainly I did not. The first warship to come into Manila Bay after the battle was the British ship Linnet. She arrived the second of May. Then on the 6th came the German gunboat Cormoran; on the 8th the big British cruiser Immortalite commanded by Captain Chichester; and on the 9th the German cruiser Irene. On June 12 Vice Admiral von Diederichs arrived on board the first-class cruiser Kaiserin Augusta. This gave the Germans the advantage of one ship.
By this time most of our fleet were speculating on why the Germans were arriving in such force. The matter became such an engrossing one that it blanketed our own Spanish war matters. The whole American personnel was buzzing with speculation.
As time went on, there arose increasing tension between Dewey and the German ships and there was a great scurrying about to see exactly what were the rules governing blockades, visit and search, the right of boarding and communication and all the established precedents in a blockaded port to which nonbelligerent warships were coming. The Cormoran, a third-class cruiser, arrived at night and when our night patrol tried to communicate with her, she did not stop until a shot was fired across her bow.
And when the German ships went in and out of the bay, in practice work, the American boarding officer had to board them every time they came into the bay. This irked the Germans. They did not see the necessity of such frequent boardings when perhaps they had been boarded just a day or so before. Even when they went out to Mariveles Bay, near Corregidor, at the entrance of the bay, and then returned to their anchorage off Manila, they were stopped. In addition, they had searchlight drills at night without asking permission and, in other ways, due to ignorance of blockade rules, indifference, or arrogance, they were frequently violating blockade rules.
It was then that Dewey cabled Washington, requesting that the departure of the monitors, Monterey and Monadnock, be expedited. Mr. Bailey, in his article, says this cablegram, which might be construed as a counterfoil to the Germans, was really, as shown by his private correspondence, due to the approaching Spanish Fleet. He adds that Dewey’s fleet of 6 cruisers and 2 smaller ships was more than a match for the 3 German ships.
On June 18 the German cruiser Kaiser arrived and on the 20th the Prinzess Wilhelm. This gave the Germans 5 ships, more than they could possibly need to protect German interests there. There was now more anxiety about the Germans than there was about the Spanish Fleet which was then approaching Suez. On June 27 the McCulloch, near Corregidor, signaled the Irene to stop for boarding. The Irene continued on her way and the boarding officer in a small boat had a long row before the Irene finally stopped. After being boarded, she resumed her way into Mariveles Bay. It was then that the McCulloch crossed her bow, a tense significant naval maneuver. This incident in some way reached the United States in a highly provocative form. It was reported that the McCulloch had stopped her with a shot.
This incident was the last straw. Diederichs sent his flag lieutenant to complain to Dewey. Hintze said that the Irene was improperly stopped and boarded. Dewey exploded and used the famous expression, “If you are at war with the United States, I want to know it. You can have war here or at any time. We are ready.”
Hintze returned and informed the German Admiral. That was the end of the German incident. There were no more incidents or friction. Later, when the preparations were being made for the taking of Manila (on August 13) it is reported that Diederichs asked the British Captain Chichester what he intended doing; and Chichester is believed to have said, “Ask Admiral Dewey.”
On the morning of the taking of Manila, August 13 (which, by the way, was the day after peace had been signed in Paris, August 12), the British and Japanese ships were over at Cavite with the American fleet, and the British played their band as we started across to begin action. The German and French ships, regarded then as our unfriendly nations as we regarded the British and Japs as our friendly nations, anchored to the north of the Manila anchorage and out of possible range. The British ship Immortalite came across to where it could see what was going on and be out of range and, in doing so, took a position directly between the American fleet and the German flagship, which shifted her position to get a better view.
This latter incident was enormously magnified. I doubt if there was any sinister purpose in the mind of Diederichs, except to see the fight; nor in the mind of Chichester except to get a less obstructed view of the fight.
I was on the Olympia during that engagement. There was a lot of shooting at an old fort on the beach, and there was some real fighting between the American soldiers—who wanted to get into it in some way—and the Spaniards, and some casualties.
I was on the McCulloch during the Irene incident, and of course heard the gossip that buzzed through the fleet. I remember that everybody was tremendously stirred up. We were all admiring the British and Japanese and looking upon the Germans and French as unfriendly, or rather, pro- Spain.
Most of the trouble with the Germans came with this friction arising from the “visit and search” rule. According to Bailey—who doubtless has had access to many documents that I know nothing about—Diederichs in the beginning thought. Dewey was going so far as to claim the right of visit “droit de visile” with respect to men-of-war. Most of the other neutral officers, including Captain Chichester, agreed that the ordinary rules of visit and search did not apply to men-of-war even in blockades.
In the light of events as I see them now, I am convinced the Germans came to Manila ready to take action in the event of a certain eventuality. The United States had publicly announced it was fighting to free Cuba and would retire from Cuba when the Spaniards were overcome. There had been no statement of American policy regarding the Philippines—except for General Anderson’s speech, soon after his arrival in the Philippines, in which he said the Americans were going to leave Cuba after liberating the Cubans. “You can infer from that what they will do in the Philippines.” I think the Germans said to themselves—or the Kaiser said—if the Americans are going to get out after licking the Spaniards, we want to be there to pick up those islands—and we must get there before the British grab them. In my opinion that was probably the reason for the German activity, and it seems reasonable to me. Germany didn’t want to fight America to get them, and Diederichs’ immediate cessation of disturbing tactics after Dewey’s plain talk indicates that his instructions certainly did not envisage war with the United States; but if America was to sail away Germany wanted to be on the spot. She wanted colonies and had none—or practically none. Only a few months before, she acquired Kiao Chao up in Shantung and doubtless wanted others if they were obtainable.
This seems to me to have been the facts in the German maneuvers in Manila Bay during the period of blockade. It is significant that the attitude of Great Britain during that tense situation did much to overcome whatever anti-English feeling there was in our country. It was a major diplomatic victory and in my opinion was so regarded by the Germans. In a couple of years they countered by sending Prince Henry in a good-will visit to the United States.
Dewey and the Germans at Manila Bay
Editor’s Note.—The following extracts from the outstandingly excellent historical study “Dewey and the Germans at Manila Bay,” by Thomas A. Bailey, published in the October, 1939, issue of The American Historical Review, page 59, are of Peculiar interest in connection with the preceding letter and with events in the world today. Based on a study of Dewey’s private papers, British, American, and German naval documents, and many other original sources, the study shows clearly the effect of propaganda and misunderstanding in stirring up war fever—a lesson to be carefully heeded today.
At the outset it must be borne in mind that Dewey was in a difficult position. First of all he had to be on constant guard against possible mine or torpedo attacks from the surviving officers and men of the defeated squadron. In addition he knew that the Spanish government was preparing a superior fleet under Admiral Camara, who finally left Cadiz on June 16 for the Philippines. To meet this threat Dewey had an inadequate force and a seriously depleted supply of ammunition; and despite his urgent appeals the Navy Department seemed to be assembling reinforcements with great deliberation. The strain on Dewey’s nerves was further increased by the absence of cable communication, for it normally took about a week to send a ship to Hongkong and receive a telegraphic reply from Washington. Moreover, the Filipino insurgents, under Aguinaldo, were attacking Manila, and it was necessary to keep them from getting out of hand, while encouraging them to continue their pressure against the enemy. As if all this were not enough, the danger of an epidemic of disease in the fleet was great and the heat almost intolerable. Dewey deserves credit for having kept his head as well as he did. . . .
The Linnet was reinforced on May 8 by the armored cruiser Immortalite, commanded by Captain Edward Chichester, who became senior British officer. During most of the month of May and part of June Great Britain had the strongest neutral force in the Philippines—the two vessels mentioned and three gunboats in addition. This caused no concern in the United States, for the British were the heaviest foreign investors in the island, and, disturbed by the growing rivalry with Germany, they were conspicuously friendly to the Americans. The Germans were represented by the second-class cruiser Irene and the third-class cruiser Cormoran, which, in response to an order issued by the Kaiser on April 28 to protect German nationals in the Philippines, had arrived on May 6 and May 9, respectively. Several days later Prince Henry of Prussia, then in the Far East, and the German consul at Manila telegraphed the foreign office in Berlin that, according to the information they had received, the Filipinos might welcome a German protectorate. Foreign Secretary Biilow thereupon suggested to the Kaiser that a naval officer of high rank, Vice Admiral Otto von Diede- richs, be sent to Manila, where he could observe the situation at first hand and report on the sentiment and position of the natives. The Kaiser gave his approval, but it was not until June 2 that the following orders were cabled to Diederichs, who was then refitting at Nagasaki, Japan:
His Majesty the Emperor and King orders the Commander of the Squadron to proceed to Manila in order to form personally an opinion on the Spanish situation, mood of natives, and foreign influence upon the political changes. I shall leave it to you to travel either with the Kaiser (flagship) or by mail steamer and have the Kaiser follow later on. Also protect with the Squadron German interests in the West-Caroline Islands, Palaos Islands. Send a ship [there] as soon as the Americans do the same.
An examination of the German naval records reveals that no further orders were dispatched to Diederichs from Berlin. The published correspondence of the foreign office indicates that, from the standpoint of international politics, the German Fleet was sent to Manila, not to interfere with the Americans, but to strengthen the position of Germany with reference to acquiring the Philippines in the event that the United States should decide not to annex them.
On June 12 the German vice admiral, having left the Kaiser to join him later, arrived at Manila on the first-class cruiser Kaiserin Augusta. The beleaguered Spaniards were greatly heartened by the presence of this distinguished officer, who outranked Dewey, and it was widely rumored in Manila that he had come to take sides against the Americans. Although Diederichs attempted to discourage these wholly groundless reports, the Spaniards continued to regard the Germans as more friendly than the other neutrals and paid marked attention to them. On or about June 24 the Spanish governor general went so far as to propose to Diederichs that the neutral powers take over Manila in deposito, but the German commander, pleading lack of instructions and the American blockade, refused to have anything to do with the offer.
Dewey was naturally displeased with the improvement of Spanish morale which had resulted from the arrival of the Kaiserin Augusta on June 12. American relations with Germany had not been particularly cordial since the Samoan imbroglio of the eighties, and Dewey’s suspicions of the Germans had already been aroused by several unfortunate incidents at Hongkong and by the unwillingness of the German ships at Manila to respect his blockade. Nor could he have failed to realize that the ultimate disposition of the Philippines was in doubt, that the Germans were on the lookout for colonies, and that their squadron at Manila was commanded by a forceful officer who had become something of a hero in Germany as a result of his occupation of Kiao-chau in 1897. On the day of Diederichs’ arrival, therefore, Dewey sent this cablegram to the Navy Department, in which he described the general situation as regards the insurgents and made his first reference to the Germans: “The German Commander-in-Chief arrived today. Three German, two British, one French, one Japanese man-of-war, now in port; another German man-of-war is expected. I request the departure of the Monadnock and the Monterey may be expedited.” Although a hasty reading of this message suggests that Dewey was urging reinforcements primarily because of a German threat, his private correspondence reveals that at this time he was much more concerned about the approaching Spanish Fleet. It should also be observed that his own force of six cruisers and two smaller craft was probably more than a match for the three German men-of-war then in the harbor.
Late in the month of June the picture as changed by the arrival of two additional German cruisers, the Kaiser (June and the Prinzess Wilhelm (June 20). The presence of Diederichs had caused considerable misgivings in American quarters, the increase of the fleet to five ships was a mistake. The augmented force as not only out of all proportion to the German commercial stake in the Philippines, but it was so much stronger than Dewey’s squadron as to be regarded by the Americans as a grave discourtesy. Diederichs later explained the gathering of the five cruisers at Manila as due to the necessity of meeting a relief ship. It is not necessary, however, to analyze the German explanations to conclude that the presence of this unnecessarily powerful force led to a misconstruction of Diederichs’ intentions. . . .
Late in June Dewey began to show more anxiety about Diederichs’ force. Admiral Camara was approaching the Suez Canal (he arrived on June 26); the Germans were maintaining cordial relations with the French naval force in the bay; and they were apparently fraternizing with the Spaniards. The German squadron in its comings and goings was evincing a disposition to ignore the American blockade, especially at night; and several disagreeable incidents occurred, such as firing over German ships to bring them to a stop. Diederichs maintained, then and later, that since no blockade had been announced in the conventional manner, there was no blockade. Nevertheless he reported that such restrictions as existed were very considerate of neutrals and that he was taking every precaution to avoid irritating Dewey and causing him to become more exacting. Diederichs may have been sincere in declaring that he was doing his best to keep on good relations with the Americans, yet the simple fact is that he did not succeed in doing so. If the German vice admiral had been more willing to yield form to expediency in the matter of the blockade, if he had not been conscious of the superiority of his fleet, and if he had entertained more respect for American discipline and fighting prowess, he probably would not have given the Americans so definite an impression that he was deliberately trying to flout their authority.
The growing tension came to a head early in July. At that time the Filipino insurgents, tacit allies of Dewey, were attacking a Spanish force at Isla Grande, in Subic Bay. The German cruiser Irene arrived and, for what its commander claimed were humanitarian reasons, began to evacuate some of the noncombatants. Informed of this apparent interference in behalf of the enemy, Dewey dispatched the Raleigh and the Concord to end German intervention. When the American ships entered the bay on July 7 they passed the Irene, which was leaving, and nothing happened. Dewey believed, or professed to believe, that when the Germans saw the American ships approaching they slipped their cable and hurried out. But the log of the Irene and the lengthy report of her commander indicate that the possibility of hostilities with the Americans was not even considered.
Dewey promptly telegraphed the following report of the Irene incident to the Navy Department:
Aguinaldo informed me his troops had taken all of Subic Bay except Isla Grande, which they were prevented from taking by the German man-of-war Irene. On July 7th sent the Raleigh and the Concord there; they took the island and about 1,300 men, with arms and ammunition. No resistance. The Irene retired from the bay on their arrival.
The Navy Department gave the telegram to the press on July 13, the day it was received. The suggestion that the Germans were trying to interfere with Dewey’s conquest of the Philippines aroused a flurry of excitement in the American press —the greatest, in fact, created by any of the misunderstandings arising between Dewey and the Germans. It was even rumored on both sides of the Atlantic that the American commander was attempting to conceal the extreme gravity of the situation. But public interest soon shifted from far-away Manila to the more exciting events connected with the surrender of Santiago, in Cuba.
News of the developments at Manila following the Irene incident came to the American public largely through rumor and exaggeration. Thoroughly aroused by the conduct of the Germans, Dewey sent Flag Lieutenant Thomas M. Brumby to Diederichs later on that same day, July 7, with a summation of American grievances growing out of alleged infractions of the blockade. The vice admiral expressed surprise on learning of these incidents, which is not remarkable when one notes that there is no mention of some of them in his very detailed reports or in those of his subordinates. Diederichs, according to Brumby, “disclaimed any intention of interfering in the least with Admiral Dewey's operations and said he would as far as possible avoid all movements of his ships, etc., at night—that Admiral Dewey had conducted the blockade in the mildest way possible and he did not want to embarrass [.sic] him in the slightest.” At the conclusion of his report Brumby added: “The Admiral was most polite. He repeated his statement that he did not wish to interfere in any way with Admiral Dewey’s operations, and I was convinced of his sincerity and personal probity.”
On July 10, three days later, Diederichs sent Flag Lieutenant Hintze to Dewey with a verbal explanation of the complaints that had been presented by Brumby. Hintze was also instructed to refer to the fact that the Irene, on June 27, had been improperly stopped and boarded by the United States revenue cutter, McCulloch, off Corregidor. This was too much for Dewey, who, according to Hintze’s report, cried out:
“Why, I shall stop each vessel whatever may be her colors! And if she does not stop I shall fire at her! And that means war, do you know, Sir? And I tell you if Germany wants war, all right, we are ready. With the English I have not the slightest difficulty, they always communicate with me, etc.” Admiral Dewey became more and more excited.
When the phrases: “If Germany wants war,” etc., began to recur the flaglieutenant [Hintze] left.
Diederichs, who fortunately realized that Dewey was laboring under a great strain, appears not to have been unduly disturbed by this outburst and took no immediate action. By the next day, July 11, Dewey had apparently recovered himself, and he replied by letter to Hintze’s inquiries regard the Irene, insisting that as commander of the blockading squadron he had a right, in the case of any vessel, to make “such inquiries as are necessary to establish her identity.” Diederichs interpreted this as meaning that Dewey was going so far as to claim the droit de visite with respect to men-of-war. He thereupon communicated with the commanders of the other neutral squadrons in order to ascertain their interpretation of this point. Those who gave definite replies—and this included Captain Chichester—agreed that the ordinary rules of visit and search did not apply to men-of-war, even in a blockade. The tension was relieved on July 14 when Dewey wrote that by “inquiries” to establish identity” he did not necessarily mean visit and search but rather the ordinary means of communication between vessels. With this clarification Diederichs apparently abandoned his efforts to interest the other neutral commanders and eventually went so far as to concede that Dewey might board his ships at night when identification was otherwise difficult.
The week following the Irene incident, July 7 to 14, was undoubtedly the most critical period in the controversy between Dewey and the Germans. Diederichs issued explicit orders to the captains of his ships to repel, by force if necessary, any attempt on the part of the Americans to board them, except at night. If Dewey had attempted to exercise at this time the right at he apparently claimed, he would have been fired on. And there can be no doubt at he was in a mood to fight back. Yet it seems unlikely that with his inferior force and other handicaps he would have provoked hostilities. Diederichs apparently did not fear serious developments, for on July 9, two days after the Subic Bay incident and one day before Dewey’s outburst, the Irene left the Philippines. It is also significant that Captain Chichester, in reporting the difficulty, referred to it as “a slight case of friction.”
The attitude of Chichester throughout this period appears to have had a quieting effect on the situation. Although the British maintained a strict neutrality during the war, there could be no doubt that their sympathies lay with the Americans and that they viewed with suspicion the activities of the Germans in Philippine waters. Chichester was under orders to pursue a neutral course, and, although he apparently did not depart from the strict letter of his instructions, he and his men maintained most cordial personal relations with the Americans—a situation displeasing to the German commander. It was widely rumored, as Diederichs probably knew, that in the event of a clash between Dewey and the Germans, the British would be ranged on the side of the Americans. Whatever the basis for these reports —and there appears to have been none— American morale was undoubtedly improved by the presence of the British and by their sympathetic attitude. Chichester’s generally correct course at this time won the warm commendation of his superior at Hongkong, and, in January, 1899, the Order of St. Michael and St. George. . . .
After the arrival of American troops and two American warships, with the departure of one of the German squadron, personal intercourse between Diederichs and Dewey developed increased cordiality, and the latter told the German consul that reports of friction were largely lies. The German commander was apparently trying to be conciliatory, and he even advised his superiors against entertaining any hope of acquiring the Philippines.
The Department of State appears to have been cognizant of this changed atmosphere. In fact, one of the most surprising things about the whole episode is the apparent lack of concern in official Washington. It was not until July 22, more than a month after Diederichs had arrived at Manila and about ten days after the Irene excitement had flared up and died down, that the Department of State sent to Ambassador White, in Berlin, its only instruction relating to the German Fleet. This was as follows:
Personal and confidential. German Ambassador made a friendly call on President today. All indications seem favorable to good relations. Presence of so large a German fleet at Manila is the subject of much comment in the press and among our people. Can you give us your view as to whether it is intended to keep fleet at Manila, and whether it is likely to be recalled or reduced, without making embarrassing inquiries, official or otherwise?
This, it will be observed, was far from being a protest.
Eight days later, on July 30, White was able to report the result of a conference with the acting minister for foreign affairs, Baron von Richthofen.
He declared, with every appearance of sincerity, that the only reason for sending the five ships originally and for retaining the three [four] ships in that harbor now has been that, the reason for their remaining at Kiao Chou having ceased, public opinion here as well as at Manila earnestly insisted on a demonstration that Germany intends fully to protect her subjects; that there is not a word of truth in the statement that orders had been issued to their admiral or that permission had been given to any person to interfere in any respect with the United States, or to thwart her policy in those waters in the slightest degree; that, on the contrary, strict orders had been given and constantly renewed to the effect that all pains should be taken to maintain the best relations with the Americans in those regions....
Early in August American preparations for storming Manila neared completion. On August 7 Dewey notified the foreign ships, which were anchored off the city, to change their positions by noon of the 9th so as to be out of the line of fire. The British men-of-war, with their refugee-laden steamers, moved about 8 miles south to Cavite, where Dewey was then stationed. The one Japanese warship, with one vessel in charge, did likewise. The two French cruisers moved past the mouth of the Pasig River to the north and west of the city, with three shiploads of refugees, as did the three German men-of-war. The fourth remaining German warship, the Cormoran, was left in charge of four steamers of German refugees in Mariveles Bay, a landlocked harbor some 20 miles southwest of Manila.
Much significance has been attached to the fact, particularly in later years, that the British and Japanese, who were known to be friendly to the Americans, anchored near them, while the Germans and the French, who were believed to be less well disposed, drew off together where they were in a better position to interfere with Dewey’s operations. Diederichs reported at the time, however, that he did not go to Cavite because the place was already crowded with American, Japanese, and British ships and because he thought that Mariveles, which was distant from the scene of hostilities, would be a better place for the refugees. The course of the French seems to have been dictated by convenience rather than by design, for the anchorage they chose was considerably closer than Cavite, and it enabled them to watch the operations of the Americans to better advantage.
On the morning of August 13 Dewey’s fleet left Cavite to bombard the defenses of Manila. Shortly thereafter the two British cruisers, the Immortalite and the Iphigenia, circled around Dewey’s fleet and came to a stop in a position roughly between the German and American squadrons. This movement was later interpreted as an effective warning to the Germans, who were allegedly about to attack Dewey on his flank, that the British were prepared to fight on the side of the Americans.
The evidence against this interpretation is overwhelming. First of all, the crisis in German-American relations at Manila had passed almost exactly a month before. If Diederichs had wished to violate his instructions and try conclusions with Dewey he certainly would have done so before the arrival of the powerful Monterey and before the reduction of his own squadron from five to three ships. As for the German cruisers preparing to attack the Americans, their logs reveal that they were anchored and that they were not cleared for action. Nor do the three German logs and Diederichs’ official report reveal any concern about the approaching British. The log of the Prinzess Wilhelm did not even mention this movement; and Diederichs, in his 83-page dispatch, merely noted: “The English ships Immortalite and Iphigenia anchored near the German and French vessels, the latter [English] obstructing my view so nonchalantly that I was compelled to order S.M.S. Kaiser to change anchorage.”
From the British point of view certain facts are conclusive. The two gunboats were left behind at Cavite, and neither the Immortalite nor the Iphigenia, as the logs reveal, cleared for action. The two British warships proceeded over the 8-mile course at ordinary cruising speed, which does not indicate that Dewey was in desperate need of protection. During this maneuver Chichester watched the firing of the American fleet with such care that he could hardly have been thinking of action with the Germans. On arriving at their new station the two British ships dropped anchor, the last thing they would have done if preparing for hostilities. In short, Chichester simply shifted position, as his records indicate, in order to watch more advantageously the progress of the battle.
In view of the great significance later attached to the British change of anchorage, it is remarkable that the present writer has found no strictly contemporary mention of it outside of the brief references in the official German and British records. Not a single one of the seven logs preserved from the American fleet refers to the movement, though meticulously recording the comings and goings of ships in the harbor, particularly the shift of positions on the 9th. Nor do Dewey’s sketchy official reports contain any reference to the British maneuver. There were 24 newspaper correspondents at Manila, several of them actually on the ships of the American fleet, and not one of them, so far as has been discovered, described the movement at the time. Both the London Times and Reuters news agency had representatives on the ground, and one wonders how they overlooked the opportunity to capitalize on the incident, particularly at a time when Great Britain was so obviously seeking the friendship of the United States.
There are two basic reasons for the silence of the newspaper correspondents. First, all eyes were focused on the bombardment by the American fleet and the assault by the troops. Second, no one apparently was expecting, or had reason to expect, that the Germans would attempt to interfere. The British movement, therefore, had no special significance and consequently no news value. . . .
On August 14, the day after the fall of the city, the German ships returned to their former anchorage. On August 15 the British did likewise, and the Immortalite fired a salute of 21 guns in honor of the United States flag, which then waved over Manila—a circumstance that somewhat annoyed the German commander. She was the only ship to accord this honor to the Americans. On that same day Diederichs received orders, in response to a suggestion that he had himself telegraphed, to proceed to Batavia and there take part in the coronation ceremonies in honor of Queen Wilhelmina. At the same time the Kaiser congratulated Diederichs on his handling of the situation at Manila. The next-day, August 16, brought news of the signing of the peace protocol. . . .
In retrospect it appears that the German-American friction at Manila Bay grew primarily out of a misunderstanding of German actions and motives. Although Diederichs had no orders to interfere with the Americans and apparently had no intention of doing so, his insistence upon what he conceived to be his rights during a blockade, together with the disproportionate strength of his fleet, gave a sinister aspect to German intentions. This situation, coupled with other unfortunate incidents and contrasted with British friendliness for the Americans, created an atmosphere in which misrepresentation and legend found a rapid and tenacious growth.