reach Manila for six weeks, and that the army was not in shape to take the offensive until after General Merritt's arrival, late in July. All this time the American Admiral had to hold on with the naval arm; and it was the obvious game of Spain, if she meant to fight and could not cope with the Americans in the West Indies, to send all her available ships and overwhelm us in the East Indies. At the same time the German, French, Russian and Japanese men-of-war represented the interest of the live nations of the earth in the Philippines. As fast as possible Admiral Dewey was re-enforced; but it was not until the two monitors, the Monterey and Monadnock, arrived, the latter after the arrival of General Merritt, that the Admiral felt that he was safely master of the harbor. He had no heavily armored ships to assail the shore batteries within their range, and might be crippled by the fire of the great Krupp guns. It was vital that the health of the crews of his ships should be maintained, and the fact that the men are and have been all summer well and happy is not accidental. Admiral Dewey took the point of danger, if there was one, into his personal keeping, by anchoring the Olympia on the Manila side of the bay, while others were further out and near Cavite; and throughout the fleet there was constant activity and the utmost vigilance. There was incessant solicitude about what the desperate Spaniards might contrive in the nature of aggressive enterprise. It seemed incredible to Americans that nothing should be attempted. How would a Spanish fleet have fared for three months of war with us in an American harbor? There would have been a new feature of destructiveness tried on the foe at least once a week.

The Spaniards ashore seemed to be drowsy; but the Americans were wide awake, ready for anything, and could not be surprised; so that we may commend as wisdom the Spanish discretion that let them alone. The ship that was the nearest neighbor of Admiral Dewey for months of his long vigil flew the flag of Belgium. She is a large, rusty-looking vessel, without a sign of contraband of war, or of a chance of important usefulness about her; but she performed a valuable function. I asked half a dozen times what her occupation was before any one gave a satisfactory answer. Admiral Dewey told the story in few words. She was a cold-storage ship, with beef and mutton from Australia, compartments fixed for about forty degrees below zero. Each day the meat for the American fleet's consumption was taken out. There was a lot of it on the deck of the Olympia thawing when I was a visitor; and the beef was "delicious." I am at pains to give Dewey's word. While the Spaniards ashore were eating tough, lean buffalo—the beasts of burden in the streets, the Americans afloat rejoiced in "delicious" beef and mutton from Australia. It was explained that the use of cold-storage meat depended upon giving it time to thaw, for if it should be cooked in an icy state it would be black and unpalatable, losing wholly its flavor and greatly its nourishing quality. Australia is not many thousand miles from the Philippines—and one must count miles by the thousands out there. The Belgians have a smart Consul at Manila who is a friend of mankind.

One of the incidents in the battle of Manila—all are fresh in the public memory—is that Admiral Dewey did not make use of the conning-tower—a steel, bomb proof, for the security of the officer in command of the ship—the Captain, of course, and the commander of the fleet, if he will.

This retreat did not prove, in the battle of Yalu and the combats between the Chileans and Peruvians, a place of safety; but as a rule there is a considerable percentage of protection in its use. Admiral Dewey preferred to remain on the bridge—and there were four fragments of Spanish shells that passed close to him, striking within a radius of fifteen feet. The Admiral, when told there had been some remark because he had not occupied the conning-house in the action, walked with me to the tower, the entrance to which is so guarded that it resembles a small cavern of steel—with a heavy cap or lid, under which is a circular slit, through which observations are supposed to be made. "Try it," the Admiral said, "and you find it is hard to get a satisfactory view." He added, when I had attempted to look over the surroundings: "We will go to the bridge;" and standing on it he annotated the situation, saying: "Here you have the whole bay before you, and can see everything." I remarked: "The newspaper men are very proud of the correspondent of the Herald who was with you on the bridge;" and the Admiral said: "Yes; Stickney was right here with us."

There were many reasons for the officer commanding the American fleet that day to watch closely the developments. The Spaniards had, for their own purposes, even falsified the official charts of the bay. Where our vessels maneuvered and the flagship drew twenty-two feet of water and had nine feet under the keel, the chart called for fifteen feet only!

It is not a secret that the President wanted Admiral Dewey, if it was not in his opinion inconsistent with his sense of duty, to go to Washington. Naturally the President would have a profound respect for the Admiral's opinion as to the perplexing problem of the Philippines. The Admiral did not think he should leave his post. He could cover the points of chief interest in writing, and preferred very much to do so, and stay right where he was "until this thing is settled." The opinion of the Admiral as to what the United States should do with, or must do about, the political relations of the Philippines with ourselves and others, have not been given formal expression; but it is safe to say they are not in conflict with his feeling that the American fleet at Manila should be augmented with gunboats, cruisers and two or three battle-ships. It was, in the opinion of the illustrious Admiral, when the Peace Commission met in Paris, the time and place to make a demonstration of the sea power of the United States.

The personal appearance of Admiral Dewey is not presented with attractive accuracy in the very familiar portrait of him that has been wonderfully multiplied and replenished. The expression of the Admiral is not truly given in the prints and photos. The photographer is responsible for a faulty selection. The impression prevails that the hero is "a little fellow." There is much said to the effect that he is jaunty and has excess of amiability in his smile. He weighs about 180 pounds, and is of erect bearing, standing not less than five feet ten inches and a quarter. His hair is not as white as the pictures say. The artist who touched up the negative must have thought gray hair so becoming that he anticipated the feast of coming years. The figure of the Admiral is strong, well carried, firm, and his bearing that of gravity and determination, but no pose for the sake of show, no pomp and circumstance, just the Academy training showing in his attitude—the abiding, unconscious grace that is imparted in the schools of Annapolis and West Point—now rivaled by other schools in "setting up." The Admiral is of solidity and dignity, of good stature and proportions; has nothing of affectation in manners or insincerity in speech; is a hearty, stirring, serious man, whose intensity is softened by steady purposes and calm forces, and moderated by the play of a sense of humor, that is not drollery or levity, but has a pleasing greeting for a clever word, and yields return with a flash in it and an edge on it.

CHAPTER II

Life in Manila.

Character of the Filipinos—Drivers Lashing Laboring Men in the Streets—What Americans Get in Their Native Air—The Logic of Destiny—Manila as She Fell into Our Hands—The Beds in the Tropics—A Spanish Hotel—Profane Yells for Ice—Sad Scenes in the Dining Room—Major-General Calls for "Francisco"—A Broken-Hearted