The expedition to the Philippines

Front matter

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THE EXPEDITION

Contents

Chapter I. Departure of General Merritt on the Newport — The turbulent Pacific — The troops on board — Fourth of July celebration — A breakdown — Arrival at Honolulu — Hawaiian hospitality — A tropical Capua — A poi feast — Aloha nui,_ i

Chapter II. The Newport leaves the fleet — Life on the transport — Entertainments by officers and men — A deck debating society — Farallon de Pajaros — Speculations and theories — The six hundred mile point — Cape Engafio — Night along the coast — The shores of Luzon — The entrance to Manila bay — Cavite and the fleet — The sunken Spanish vessels — Meeting of General Merritt and Admiral Dewey — Visit of General Greene, 22

Chapter III. Landing of General Merritt — Camp Dewey — Inspection of the lines — The insurgent position — Study of the enemy's works — Introduction to tropical weather — Landing of the Third Artillery and the Astor Battery — The censorship — Visit to Cavite — Starving prisoners — Proclamation of the Filipino Republic, 39

Chapter I

Comparatively few persons had more than a very hazyidea as to the geographical position of the Philippines until the exhilarating news of Dewey's victory brought out the atlases. Manila was a familiar enough name. It suggested" a short, thick cheroot over which there was a continual dis- \ cussion as to which end it was proper to light, and was intimately connected with coils of bright yellow rope seen in_> every cordage shop. But the geographical position of this busy capital and of the group of islands of which it is the metropolis was about as vague in most minds as the situation of the last discovered irrigation area in Mars. The literature concerning the islands was phenomenally scarce, at least the literature in English. Only one book with any claim to thoroughness had been published in this language for many years, and this was not readily obtained because it had not found an extensive circulation. The reading public in the United States had more or less knowledge of the Hawaiian islands and of both Micronesia and Polynesia, first through the labors of the missionaries and more recently through the writings of Melville, Stevenson, Stoddard and others who have found a grateful stimulus to the imagination in these tropical islands. The Philippines, however, remained outside the kodak zone.

The mystery surrounding this reported paradise was naturally, a very strong element of atraction for adventurous spirits, and when the expedition of occupation and conquest was decided upon by the authorities at Washington, there was a scramble all over the country for an opportunity to join in the crusade. What was to come to pass in the West Indies could be foretold with comparative accuracy, but who could prophesy what adventures would befall an expedition to the antipodes where Spain, although crippled by the loss of her fleet, would probably make a heroic effort to preserve this lucrative colony? There was an irresistible fascination in this long voyage across the Pacific to the palm-draped islands where naked savages still live in primitive barbarism; to those pleasant lands of constant summer where the fabulous wealth of minerals and rare products of the soil have so long tempted enterprising traders to venture their lives on the chance of profitable barter or possible booty. The glamour of ancient Spanish power still lingered in this distant archipelago and there still remained, scarcely touched by the levelling forces of modern civilization or transformed by the lapse of time, the picturesque life of the tropical East as described by the sturdy explorers of Queen Elizabeth's days and which has furnished material for libraries of fiction to unsettle the minds of generations of schoolboys with dreams of Malay pirates and all the melodrama of adventurous life on the high seas. It was certainly no mean experience to take part in the first foreign expedition of the great Republic, to witness the very beginning of the inevitable expansion following an unbroken period of consistent isolation. It was to be a history-making event, the first act in the great international drama to be played on the broad stage where the great powers of the world are in active competition for supremacy. Who with a drop of red blood in his veins could fail to be tempted by this prospect?

We were ordered to be on board the Newport at the Pacific

Mail wharf in San Francisco not later than nine o'clock on June 29, and although I had made a hurried trip across the Atlantic and the continent in twelve days, I was as "journey proud" as a schoolboy that morning, impatient to see the troops, the ship, and to establish myself on board. Although General Merritt, whom I met at breakfast, assured me the sailing hour was fixed at ten, I could not linger about the hotel but was off" long before nine with no eye for the boasted glories of the great town, scarcely noticing the morning throng of hurrying citizens. The sailing of five transports which, with the Newport, composed the third expedition, had been the occasion of a great popular demonstration two days before, and the edge of the public enthusiasm was therefore somewhat dulled. Still, the departure of the Governor-General of the Philippines with his personal staff, his corps and his departmental staff, was the climax of a series of dramatic incidents, and as such called together at the water-front a goodly number of spectators. Near the entrance of the wharf I saw my first soldiers, part of the Third Regular Heavy Artillery, looking as brown and hardy as if they had already been through a campaign. They had not yet adopted the tan-colored linen uniform which afterwards gave them a startling resemblance to the butternut-clad Confederates, but wore the dark-blue flannel shirt, faded to a variety of unpleasant colors, dark trousers and the campaign slouch hats moulded by use into characteristic individual shapes, alike in color and in general proportions but as different in outline as the features of the wearer shaded by the broad brim. Fringed around the street corners, sitting in rows on the curbstone, jostling and crowding at the saloon doors, they were as high-spirited, sturdy a lot of men as ever carried rifles and looked fit to conquer the world. Under the long dock-shed a shrieking locomotive rambled back and forth between piles of miscellaneous commissary stores and mountains of cases fresh from Chinese ports.

The promenade-deck of the steamer was covered with civilians with a fair sprinkling of officers in trim, dark uniforms, bearing various strange insignia on their collars which would require careful explanation to interpret and considerable study to memorize, and the main deck rail was lined with the rank and file who had already received assignments of quarters on board. Up and down the steep gangplank flowed a constant stream of women and children with patriotic decorations, messenger boys carrying bouquets and parcels, and a mixture of civilians and officers all looking hurried and anxious. Emotional women, already tearful in anticipation of the imminent parting with friends or relatives, gathered in sympathetic groups at the edge of the wharf, keeping up a spasmodic interchange of greetings with those on board, mostly consisting of a repetition of the one phrase : "Be sure and take care of yourself !" Stevedores, with the choicest vocabularies of quaint oaths, wrestled with piles of officers' baggage and belated consignments of stores.

Purposeless sentinels paced up and down with important solemnity, looking well the part they were supposed to play but having nothing and nobody to guard. It was evident from the voluble orders which were given on all sides with increasing energy as the time passed, that General Merritt was sure to be prompt to the moment and the men were soon marched in from the street and anxious non-commissioned officers scoured the neighborhood to corral the stragglers. Not a man would have missed the boat for a fortune, and one by one they came hurrying in, greeted by the jeers of their comrades already on board, until at last the only soldier on the wharf was a vigilant sergeant on the lookout for the very last private of all who finally did turn up, hot and flurried and shamefaced, and who sneaked aboard in .temporary disgrace. The women tossed rolled-up flags and bunches of flowers into the outstretched hands far above them and volleys of brass buttons for souvenirs were returned in exchange.

It was a carnival of laughter and chaff and tears. Now the men began to climb the rigging and swarm up the topmasts even to the insecure seat on the narrow area of the truck, and worked off their exuberant energy in yells and shouts, rising and falling in volume and then bursting forth in a grand cheer in unison as a small party of officers, headed by General Merritt, easily recognized by everybody, came up the gangplank precisely on the stroke of ten. In a moment or two the first throb of the engine was felt and the Newport slowly moved away in that indescribable confusion of shouts, cheers, whistles and screeches which only an American crowd can produce. As the steamer rounded away from the wharf, a swarm of tugs and yachts gay with flags and bright costumes and each with a battery of kodaks, dashed after her to catch a parting word or to secure a final snapshot. The thousands of people blackening the wharf ends all along the water front, gave a long continued cheer ; steam whistles and military bands competed noisily on every side and the dull roar of cannon came echoing up from the lower bay. The fastest of our escort was soon distanced and we were fairly away on our long voyage.

It was a brilliant, sparkling summer day and the long, glassy swell of the Pacific, meeting the shallows at the bar, looked pleasant and harmless as we approached. The first plunge of the bows and the general disturbance of equilibrium were a new sensation to most of those on board, for comparatively few had ever made a sea voyage, and many, indeed, had never seen salt water until they came to San Francisco. A few moments of this disturbing motion was enough to send a goodly proportion of the men below and to distract their thoughts from the recent farewells to the activo considerations of personal discomfort. The initiation to regular sea life was sudden but prolonged, for almost before the bar was crossed and while the smoke of the saluting cannon was still drifting across the bay, a thin mist, like the haze of Indian summer, imperceptibly stole out of the West, softened the outlines of the grand headlands of the Golden Horn and veiled from our sight the rugged masses of the rocky islands near the line of our course. The temperature dropped rapidly, a breeze sprang up from the Northwest, freshening rapidly with vicious gusts, and soon developed into the strength of a gale. We pitched and tossed awhile, and, before we lost sight of land, the captain was obliged, for the safety of the ship, to alter her course and to put her head to the gale, under just enough steam to keep steerageway. For seventeen long hours we wallowed and tumbled and drifted to the southward, scarcely making enough westing to swear by. The pomp of military display had begun to vanish with the first tos sings at the bar, but when the storm really struck us in earnest, there was no more semblance of discipline on the ship, among the soldiers of course, than on a crowded passenger boat on a rough excursion to the fishing grounds. The general hilarity caused by ,the woful plight of those who earliest felt the result of the motion rapidly degenerated to chaff of no agreeable strain, and at last even the voice of the Irish humorist was silent. He first raised a laugh as he came aboard and saw the anchor over the bow by asking :

"Who in the devil is a goin' to swing that big pick ?" and he mercilessly ridiculed the "green-faced landlubbers" as they staggered away to their bunks, confident that his trip from Queenstown had seasoned him beyond fear of the common malady. His voice, at first sonorous and cheery and flavored with characteristic Hibernian humoristic quality, soon lost its charm, however, became forced and raucous, and was finally only audible in a feeble attempt to repeat the stale distortion : "Water, water everywhere and not a drop of whisky to drink." Then he, too, curled himself up in the lee of the bulwarks thoroughly drenched and totally collapsed. Sentinels had been posted at different parts of the promenade deck, partly for grandeur perhaps, and partly to regulate the movements of the men and to keep a small area free for the use of General Merritt and his staff. The necessity for these sentinels ceased, of course, when the decks were empty, but the officer whose duty it was to order the men below was probably too much occupied with his personal sensations to think of the men on guard. One by one the stalwart fellows grew paler and paler, and then, limp and dejected, without so much as calling for the corporal of the guard, staggered to their bunks, dragging their rifles after them in a most unmilitary style. One wiry youth on the weather side kept his post long after the others had retreated and, unable to pace the slippery deck, leaned against the engine room bulkhead and kept up a show of performing his duty, although he was too miserable to dodge the frequent showers of spray. The officer of the day took this moment to make his rounds and, approaching the sentinel, asked :

"Where is your post ?"

"Here at this corner, sir !"

"How many of you are on guard ?"

"Twenty-one, I believe, sir."

"Where are the others?"

"I'm the only one left, sir/''

And this brief conversation was too much for him. Scarcely had he made answer before he staggered away without so much as "by your leave," and the officer of the day had the deck to himself and was free to meditate on the possibility of the Army Regulations providing for the duties of an officer in irregular conditions met with on an ocean transport.

Rank had no special privileges on this occasion, and in a few minutes the "Social Hall" belied its name, for only a small proportion of officers, General Merritt among the numher, remained to uphold the dignity of their commissions. Perhaps it is as well to leave to the imagination the scenes on the Newport during the raging of the storm, certainly it would be unwise to chronicle the expletives which this record surprise of the Pacific wrenched from the pallid lips of those whose pleasant anticipations of a trip across summer seas had thus been rudely shattered.

Those of us who were proof against the prostrating illness had an excellent opportunity of making one another's acquaintance and of settling ourselves for the voyage.

The Newport is a steamer of 2200 tons measurement, with a horse power of approximately the same figure, and a maximum speed of fourteen knots. She was built for the run to the West Indies and consequently is well adapted in most ways for service in the tropics. In less than a week after she was chartered by the government as a transport, she was thoroughly overhauled, fitted with proper appliances for the accommodation of troops and well loaded with ordnance, ammunition and miscellaneous stores, including three months' provisions for the number of men she was supposed to carry. She has electric lights, an ice machine which would produce about 300 pounds a day, a distilling apparatus for drinking water and cold storage rooms of large capacity. The promenade deck is occupied by the Social Hall, a large number of staterooms, the cabins of the ship's officers and the wheelhouse. On the main deck are more staterooms, bath rooms, the dining-saloon, the galleys and the usual adjuncts. The cooking for the troops and the serving out of the rations were all done on the forward part of this deck. Temporary staircases had been built in the forward hatch and in two small hatches astern leading from the promenade deck to the cargo deck where the troops were quartered. The engine-room bulkhead alone broke this great area, and broad passages on either side of this obstruction gave plenty of air and afforded easy circulation. Ten fore and aft rows of three-tier wooden bunks extended from the engine space to bow and stern with a passageway between every pair, and each bunk was provided with a woven wire spring and a straw mattress.

The lighting left something to be desired, but the ventilation was as good as could be and the temperature was usually a degree or two lower than in the saloon. The first sight of the great crowded lower deck, with every corner filled either by a soldier or by some of his impedimenta, and with bunk after bunk vanishing into the dim perspective, gave me a sense of oppression, and it was not easy to recover from the feeling that it must be hot and stuffy and generally disagreeable in this burrow of human beings. But frequent visits soon broke up this illusion, and I came to regard it as quite as comfortable as any place on the ship, certainly better ventilated than the steerage on the trans-Atlantic ships and with far more luxurious sleeping accommodations. Having been in the ranks myself, and also in the steerage, come to that, I had little sympathy with those novices who so knowingly condemned their quarters as "the worst ever provided for Christians," and the record of the voyage, which was remarkable for the excellent health of the men, proved that there was not much wrong with the transport. There were some great defects in the accommodations, notably the absence of mess-room and the inadequate capacity of the galleys and cramped space for the distribution of rations. It often took two or three hours to serve a meal, and when the men finally got their rations they had no place in which to sit in comfort and were obliged to perch and balance wherever they could, so that eating was often a ludicrous approach to jugglery.

General Merritt, with characteristic regard for the comfort of his men, had given instructions to allow them the free use of the decks, reserving for himself and officers only a small space between two deckhouses. This freedom more than compensated for the discomforts, and as there were no restrictions to circulation, day or night, and none of the ordinary troopship rules about remaining in quarters were enforced, the promenade deck and the tops of all the deckhouses were populous by day and were covered by night with prostrate forms. Without counting the ship's company, the total number on board the Newport, including the officers, did not exceed six hundred, for there were only the Astor Battery, in round numbers one hundred strong, and batteries H and K of the Third Regular Heavy Artillery, practically counting two hundred each. Although the ship carried more than would be allowed by the British regulation, which limits the number of troops on a transport to the number of hammocks which can be slung between decks, she was far less crowded than most of the troopships which crossed the Pacific. Still it was difficult to see where another man could be stowed away on board.

In the saloon and the officers' mess there were, besides the clerical force, the following officers and civilians: Major- General Wesley Merritt and his aids Major Lewis H. Strother, Major Harry C. Hale, and Captain T. Bentley Mott. The members of the Department Staff, Brigadier-General J. B. Babcock, Chief of Staff and Adjutant-General, Major S. D. Sturgis, Assistant Adjutant-General, Lieutenant-Colonel C. A. Whittier, Inspector-General, Lieutenant-Colonel Enoch H. Crowder, Judge Advocate, Lieutenant-Colonel James W. Pope, Chief Quartermaster, Lieutenant-Colonel David L. Brainard, Chief Commissary of Subsistence, Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Lippincott, Deputy Surgeon- General and Chief Surgeon, Major Charles McClure, Paymaster U. S. Army, Chief Paymaster, Major R. B. C. Bement, Engineer Officer, Major Richard E. E. Thompson, Chief Signal Officer, Major W. A. Simpson, Chief of Artillery, Major W. A. Wadsworth, Assistant to Chief Quartermaster, Major Charles E. Woodruff, Attending Surgeon,

WESLEY MERRITT

Captain J. M. Cabell, Assistant Surgeon U. S. A. (retired), Assistant to Chief Surgeon, Major Charles H. Whipple, Paymaster U. S. Army, Major Charles E. Kilbourne, Paymaster U. S. Army and Lieutenant-Colonel Charles L. Potter of the Corps Staff, Chief Engineer Officer. The officers commanding the troops on board were: Captain James O'Hara, Captain Charles W. Hobbs, Lieutenant M. G. Krayenbuhl, Lieutenant Lloyd England, and Lieutenant P. M. Kessler, all of the Third Regular United States Heavy Artillery, and Captain Peyton C. March, Lieutenant C. C. Williams and Lieutenant B. M. Koehler of the Astor Battery. Father Doherty, Volunteer Chaplain to the Expedition ; Dr. G. M. Daywalt, Contract Surgeon; Mr. Murat Halstead, Mr. G. W. Peters, illustrator; Mr. Jerome of the Pacific Mail Company, and myself, made up the contingent of those not entitled to wear the uniform.

One other uniformed personage must be included in this roster, not because he held a government commission, but because he was a conspicuous figure on the decks. This was a Captain of the Salvation Army. He was not a cheerful individual, but was always in evidence. When the men were miserable, his red-trimmed cap seemed to have an extra dejected droop and when there was any fun going, he stood apart and gazed sadly at the mirthmakers. Just how he expected to continue his authority in this crowd of worldly inclined adventurers, one could scarcely imagine, and I fancy he made little progress in his enlistments.

It was a good forty-eight hours before the Pacific which belied its name with vicious persistency, had settled down to anything like a reasonable condition of quiet. As the sea gradually subsided, the sick crawled out of the hatchways like half-drowned badgers, scattered over the decks and began to feel again that life was worth living and when, on the morning of the third day, the ocean unfolded its great violet expanse under the softest of summer skies, giving full prom-

ii ise of lasting sunshine, the effervescent spirits of the men bubbled up with fresh vigor, and cheeriness and hilarity began to rule again. Under the harmonizing influence of hardships and suffering common to all, the men rapidly fraternized, and regulars and volunteers began to live in peace together. Although the Third Artillery was a regular organization, there was only a moderate leaven of old soldiers in its ranks, for the two batteries had been recruited up from their peace quota of sixty odd men to their full war footing of two hundred. The recruits were all picked men, exceptionally fine specimens of robust manhood, and most of them of superior intelligence. The Astor Battery, or the Asteroids as they were called popularly, were at first, perhaps, a little out of gear with their shipmates, chiefly on account of the reputation they had acquired in San Francisco, where the press had chosen to resent their proper display of strict discipline and took pains to interpret it as an indication of assumption of social superiority. The roll of the battery numbered a goodly proportion of men who had seen active service in other countries and a notable list of college graduates, mostly athletes of some reputation.

When the Pacific ocean goes in for the business of charming those who trust themselves on her ever-heaving bosom, she is irresistible. The gender of this great natural division of the waters of the earth, I am aware, is commonly held to be masculine, but after my experience with the temperament of this ocean, I can never think of it except in the feminine gender, and to speak of it as "he" is to contradict all the sentiment which my brief intimacy has initiated and developed. In her friendly moods she is caressing and gentle beyond description; her songs are sweeter than a lullaby and her smiles are doubly fascinating because they reflect all the soft and tender charms of the high-arched sky, intensifying the choice and delicate tones which vibrate in the wonderful atmosphere. By her subtle graces she bewitches the traveller into perfect confidence that her face will never darken with a frown, and, enchanted by her soothing influences, he lives for the day only, for the joy of life steals into his heart and holds full sway there.

Thus, after her temper had passed, did she charm and bewitch us all with her glorious, unbroken shimmering expanse, inviting us onward to a distant, mysterious horizon where the summer clouds gathered in ranks and seemed to hide the expected land. The recent woes were forgotten, the future looked bright and hopeful, and, amid all the paraphernalia of war, the gentle spirit of peace pervaded the ship. Songs were heard on every side and from the roofs of the deckhouses, where kindred spirits had pre-empted an airy habitation among the spars and life-rafts, the tinkle of the mandolin and the strum of the banjo came floating downward far into the night — a night so beautiful that it were a sin to sleep — and the contented hum of voices never ceased.

The Fourth of July came while we were in the keen 'flush of enjoyment of the soft air and the soothing, gentle motion of the water. We welcomed this anniversary as all good patriots do and felt that it had a peculiar significance to us, representing as we did the might and dignity of the great Republic on the great waste of the Pacific and carrying there for the first time in history the Stars and Stripes on a military expedition. This thought and the desirability of providing some suitable decoration for the celebration of the day set us to look up the flags. We found to our dismay that we were shorter of bunting than of anything else and not a flag could be turned out except those belonging to the ship, which, of course, we borrowed promptly. In matter of fact, we actually did not fly the national emblem but perforce reserved it to lend that patriotic air to our place of assembly which is so stimulating to the Independence day orator. Later at Manila, this dearth of flags was even more to be regretted for the natives, who display the insurgents' flag in

i3 great profusion, could not comprehend our apparent indifference to the symbol of freedom which was conspicuous by its very rarity.

The committee that took charge of the celebration wisely decided that it was best to get over all the formal ceremonies as early as possible in the day and therefore we assembled under the awning between the deckhouses at half past eleven in the forenoon where brief exercises were conducted for the benefit of all on board, this being as public a place as there was on the ship and so situated that probably half of the men could see and hear. It was a strange and peculiarly impressive spectacle. Around the little knot of officers the rank and file stood in a compact mass reaching to the rail on either side where others perched in a solid line. The openings in the awning above were filled with heads and everyone was intent on hearing every word that was said. Never shall I forget the keen, earnest look of the men as they listened to the familiar words of the Declaration of Independence nor can I ever lose the echo of that swelling chorus of sturdy, masculine voices which rang out with such inspiriting vigor. In the saloon, which was made as gay as possible with the limited number of flags at our command, the luncheon assumed as much of the character of a banquet as could be contrived from the combined resources of the ship's larder, the commissary stores, and private supplies of wet and dry luxuries. It differed from any other similar celebration I ever attended, inasmuch as the decorations were the Stars and Stripes and the Union Jack in combination, and the sentiments of loyal respect for Great Britain and of confidence in the stability of the friendly relations existing between the two countries were expressed by several of those who responded to the toasts and applauded with genuine good-will by the entire company. The programme of the day was as follows :

EXPEDITION TO THE PHILIPINES

Exercises on the Deck.

1. Prayer — Chaplain Doherty.

2. "Star-Spangled Banner" — Astor Battery Glee Club.

3. Declaration of Independence — Major C. H. Whipple.

4. "America" — Astor Battery Glee Club.

5. Oration — Chaplain Doherty.

6. "Red, White and Blue"— Astor Battery Glee Club.

Exercises at Luncheon — Toasts and Responses.

1. Our Country and Our President — Major-General Wesley Merritt.

2. Nations Friendly to Us and the Queen of England — F. D. Millet.

3. Our General Commanding the Army of the Philippines — Colonel McClure.

4. A Modern Crusade — General Babcock.

5. The Day We Celebrate — Mr. Murat Halstead.

6. The Girls We Left Behind Us — General Whittier.

7. The Army and the Navy — Colonel Crowder.

8. Our Good Ship Newport and Her Gallant Captain and Crew — Captain Saunders.

Unfortunately Mr. Halstead was seized by an illness which prevented him from taking part in the celebration and which, to our great regret, obliged him to part company with us at Honolulu so we had but a brief enjoyment of his society.