Chapter 27

_Q._ To what circumstances do you particularly attribute your stalwart old age (which may God long preserve!)?--_A._ To God's grace and temperate habits.

An interesting anecdote is related, apropos of his dislike to display, on the occasion of the opening of new barracks at Frankfort-on-the-Oder, to which, as the oldest and most distinguished officer of the regiment in which he first served, he was invited. His acceptance of the invitation was accompanied by the stipulation that no ceremony should be made; but the officers, desiring to do honor to their illustrious guest, had provided the best carriage that the town afforded to meet him at the station. On his arrival, the field-marshal thanked the officer in waiting, took a common cab, and with his nephew, who was with him as aide-de-camp, drove off to the barracks, to the astonishment of the honest burghers.

His favorite recreations were chess, in which he excelled; music, especially that of the school of Schubert and Mozart--he entertained very decided opinions about the "music of the future"--and whist, which he rarely missed playing after dinner, even when at the seat of war. The count was an authority on the culture of roses, and at Kreisau, where he spent most of his time after his retirement from more active service, he possessed one of the finest and most unique collections of roses in Germany, a fact which lends an additional grace to the tribute of respect paid to the field-marshal's memory, when, the day after his death, the empress visited the head-quarters of the General Staff and placed a magnificent wreath of his favorite flower upon the bed of the departed hero.

Had not his reputation as a military strategist overshadowed his other gifts, the count would have gained distinction in the world of letters. In the twenties, while engaged in the Topographical Department, he wrote a pamphlet, published at Berlin, entitled "Holland and Belgium," by H. von Moltke, in which he calls the attention of Europe to the Belgian Revolution; this was followed, in 1845, by a critical military work of great merit, "The Russo-Turkish Campaign of 1828-29 in European Turkey," which created a deep impression in military circles, and proved of considerable service in the Russo-Turkish campaign of 1877-78. Moltke's pithy and laconic style was founded on the model of his chief, General von Mueffling, his instructor in practical and theoretical tactics, in which the members of the German General Staff are required to excel. He was a graphic writer and shrewd observer of men and things, as his charming letters from Russia, France, Turkey, and other places show. Especially sagacious were his observations on the Turks, made to his sister, married to Mr. John Burt, an Englishman settled at Holstein, in which he affirms that the kingdom is rotten, that Turkey had fallen under a ban, and that ban the Koran, which teaches so warped a doctrine that its laws and decrees must of necessity oppose all social progress. His views on Russia, as indicated in his letters written in the form of a diary to his wife on the occasion of his visit in 1856, when accompanying Prince Frederick William at the coronation of the Czar Alexander II. at Moscow, show the same keen powers of observation. He considered that Russia had a great future before her, but this could only be realized when her officials became more honest. "Honesty among Russian officials," he thinks, "can only be brought about by many years of iron severity." Of the difficulty of governing the French nation, he wrote, when visiting the court of Napoleon III.: "It would be as impossible to allow the liberty of the press in France as to admit discussion of the orders given by generals to their armies when in the field." We have not the advantage of knowing his views on England and the English on the three occasions, in 1856, 1858, and 1861, when he visited the country in company with the crown prince to be present at his betrothal and marriage to the princess royal, and again at the funeral of the prince consort. How highly his opinion as an authority was esteemed as early as 1867, is seen by an incident which occurred during the Universal Exhibition, when Count Moltke, in company with King William of Prussia and Count Bismarck, dined with Napoleon III. at St. Cloud. Subsequently, the emperor and Moltke engaged in an animated conversation apart from the rest. At this moment Marshal Randon, Minister of War, walked across the room, and the emperor, noticing him, raised his voice, saying, "Come here, marshal. General Moltke says that with the needle-gun he would be strong enough to fight even the French army." Marshal Randon drew near, and, turning toward Moltke, said, in a tone loud enough to be heard by all in the room, "Pardon me, general; but, in spite of the high opinion I have of your judgment, I cannot share your belief. I venture to affirm, that even with the needle-gun, the French army would not suffer the fate of the Austrian army;" and the conversation continued without the bystanders being able to follow it. But after the departure of the King of Prussia and his suite, Napoleon III., struck by these words, energetically busied himself in overhauling the equipment of the French army. He examined various models of guns that were submitted to him, and among these the Martini rifle, which he found excellent, but which was after all rejected for the Chassepot. The making of this gun was pushed forward so actively that the French army was provided with it by 1870.

In respect of his literary efforts, as of his military achievements, Moltke was singularly modest. Herr G. von Bunsen tells us how, "meeting the general one day at a dinner-party, I expressed my regret at his having neglected to write some letter-press to accompany his well-known map of the environs of Ancient Rome. 'But a companion book for it was written,' he replied; 'or rather,' correcting himself, 'he had begun writing one at Rome, and was prevented from finishing the MS. when the Government ordered him to convey Prince Henry's body to Berlin, and there set him engrossing tasks to do.' Hereupon I ventured to ask him for a loan of this fragment. Of course he believed it to be lost; but, as a matter of course likewise, it was brought to my door by an orderly at an early hour next morning. When returning the MS., I advised the publication of parts of it, which would be found acceptable independently of his being the author; and if my humble advice should be followed, would he accept my humble services as editor? His reply," adds Herr von Bunsen, "has been carefully preserved. Its purport was that he must lay down three conditions: First, I must omit what I pleased; secondly, transpose at my pleasure; and thirdly, _alter the text_ wherever it seemed desirable." "Will any editor in the world," Herr von Bunsen pithily remarks, "hesitate to confirm my belief that no MS. of the last unfledged stripling of an author was ever offered on similar conditions?"

Fitting tributes of respect and admiration were paid to the aged field-marshal on the occasion of his celebrating his ninetieth birthday, on October 26, 1890. Telegrams from all sorts and conditions of men poured in upon him, including, among the princes and sovereigns of Europe, one from Queen Victoria, who held Count von Moltke in high esteem. The 26th falling upon Sunday, the schools throughout the length and breadth of Germany were closed on the previous Saturday to enable the scholars to add their quota to the general rejoicing. In Berlin a torchlight procession of vast extent, composed of 20,000 students, artists, members of trades and guilds, marched with banners and groups of historically dressed personages and impersonifications, from the old gray Schloss down the Linden, through the Brandenburg Gate to the Koenigsplatz, where are situated the buildings of the Grand Staff. Here addresses were presented to Von Moltke.

On the following day, in the Conference Hall of the General Staff, the emperor, surrounded by the military magnates of the Reichsrath, the generals of the twenty army corps specially summoned to be present, the officers of the General Staff, Chancellor von Caprivi, successor to Prince Bismarck, the King of Saxony, the grand dukes and the Duke of Connaught, addressed the marshal in the following terms:

"I thank you in the name of those who have fought together with you, and whose most faithful and devoted servant you have been. I thank you for all you have done for my House and for the greatness of the Fatherland. We greet in you not only a Prussian leader who has won for the army the reputation of being invincible, but one of the founders of the German Empire. The presence of the King of Saxony, who has made a point of personally congratulating you, recalls the time when he and you fought for Germany's greatness. The distinctions conferred upon you by my grandfather leave nothing in which I can personally show my thanks to you.... I call upon all those present to express their feelings of gratitude that Field-Marshal von Moltke has known how not to stand alone in his greatness, but to form a school of leaders of the army for time to come, and for all future generations, by giving cheers for his excellency."

This, the last occasion on which public honors were accorded to the field-marshal during his life, appropriately emphasized the universal esteem in which "Father Moltke," as he was affectionally designated by the army, was held as one of the founders of the German Empire.

GEORGE DEWEY

By MAJOR-GENERAL JOSEPH WHEELER

(Born 1837)

Every occasion finds a _man_ to meet the exigencies of the hour, every conflict brings forth its hero, and every war educates soldiers for a war to come. War begets the warrior. Washington came out of the French and Indian wars, Jackson from the Creek wars; Scott and Taylor both emerged from Chippewa and Lundy's Lane, Grant and Lee from Mexico. So, George Dewey came out of the fierce internecine strife of our Civil War. He came, too, from one of the great sources of the best elements of our American population. The Puritans of New England and the Cavaliers of Virginia sprung from the same soil and a common ancestry, worked side by side, in a widely different manner, but to the same end; and from these two classes have sprung nearly all our great soldiers, statesmen, and authors. From the former came the great naval hero of the Spanish-American War.

George Dewey was born in Montpelier, Vermont, on December 26, 1837, of direct descent, in the ninth generation, from Thomas Dewey, who came from Sandwich, England, to Dorchester, in the Massachusetts Bay Colony, in 1633.

His father, Dr. Julius Dewey, was a physician, eminent in his profession, and loved and respected, not only for his ability but for his innate nobility of character; and his mother was Mary Perrin. His ancestors on both sides were patriots in the days that tried men's souls, the hard and bitter days of the Colonial and Revolutionary Wars. He was the third of four children, and even in his boyhood he was a leader among his fellows. His breaches of discipline culminated in his heading an insurrection against the village school-master; but the pedagogue came off victorious, and administered a severe flogging to the young rebel, which punishment his father is said to have reinforced with some home-brewed medicine. The lesson was well learned, for we hear of no more insurrections.

George Dewey entered the Naval Academy September 23, 1854, and was graduated fifth in a class of fourteen. He was attached to the frigate Wabash of the Mediterranean Squadron, and after his two years' cruise as a midshipman passed his final examination, in which he stood number one, gaining a final rating of three in his class. War was already imminent, and rapidly passing through the next grades he was on April 19th attached as lieutenant to the Mississippi, belonging to the West Gulf Squadron. Early in 1862 Commodores Farragut and Porter prepared to capture New Orleans. Throughout this campaign Lieutenant Dewey distinguished himself by his cool courage, quick perception, and ready skill, winning the praise of Commodore Farragut. In running by the forts, he stood upon the bridge of the Mississippi, unmoved amid a storm of shot and shell, and unerringly guided her up the river, although he knew not a foot of the channel. The next year he was attached to one of Farragut's gunboats, and later to the Monongahela, which he commanded temporarily. In 1864, attached to the Colorado, he again distinguished himself in the attack on Fort Fisher, by a display not only of great courage, but of marked tactical skill, and by the fighting of his ship, which, though a junior, he really directed, and won the enthusiastic congratulations of his superior officers. Made lieutenant-commander March 3, 1865, Dewey emerged from the Civil War a matured naval officer at the age of twenty-seven, ripe in experience and ready for any service or sacrifice for the welfare of his country.

His career from this time until the close of the year 1897, although important in his development and replete with valuable services in all directions, must be summed up in a few words.

For two years subsequent to the war, he served with the European Squadron, first on the Kearsarge, later on the Colorado. 1867 found him at the Naval Academy. Promoted commander, April 13, 1872, he was assigned to the Narragansett until 1875. After seven years of bureau duty in the Navy Department, October 18, 1882, he commanded the Juniata of the Asiatic Squadron, and then learned the topography of Manila Bay, where he gave his first lesson to the Spaniard in the person of the Port Captain of Manila, who impudently proposed that he "parade his crew," so that some sailors accused of riot might be identified, Dewey's reply being: "The deck of this vessel is United States territory, and I'll parade my men for no foreigner that ever drew breath."

Dewey's health broke down, and in 1884 he was at the Navy Department, but September 27th was commissioned captain and took command of the Dolphin, one of the "White Squadron," the beginning of our "New Navy." He reached the rank of commodore February 28, 1896. On shore he has served as a member of the Lighthouse Board, Chief of the Bureau of Equipment, and Chief of the Board of Inspection and Survey. Late in the year 1897 it became necessary to select a commander of the Asiatic Station. War with Spain was a possibility. It was therefore essential that the Asiatic Station be in command of an able and experienced officer.

It has been said that Commodore Dewey, as also the other commodores, sought the North Atlantic and European Stations, believing that the Atlantic would be "the theatre of the war," and that he was averse to service in the Asiatic. It has also been said that the appointment of Dewey was a mere chance, a matter of routine. I think that these statements are not correct. I believe that Commodore Dewey was too old a sailor, too good a sailor, and too experienced a sailor to attempt to dictate his own orders. Furthermore, in a conversation with the President, this subject being mentioned, the President told me that he had carefully considered the appointment of an officer to command the Asiatic Station and had finally determined upon Dewey--that he wrote upon a card which he sent to the Secretary, of the Navy: "Appoint Dewey to Asiatic Squadron."

In pursuance of the President's action, Commodore George Dewey was detached on November 30th from Bureau work and ordered to the Asiatic Station, of which he took command on January 3, 1898. The opportunity came, and the right man was in the right place.

Commodore Dewey's squadron was composed of four protected cruisers, two gunboats, and a despatch-boat, as follows: The Olympia (flag-ship), a protected cruiser of 5,870 tons, mounting fourteen guns, Captain Gridley and flag-officer, Captain Benjamin P. Lamberton; the Baltimore, a protected cruiser of 4,413 tons and ten guns, Captain Nehemiah M. Dyer; the Raleigh, a protected cruiser of 3,213 tons and eleven guns, Captain Joseph B. Coghlan; the Boston, a protected cruiser of 3,000 tons and eight guns, Captain Frank Wildes; the Concord, a gunboat of 1,710 tons and six guns, Commander Asa Walker; the Petrel, a gunboat of 892 tons and four guns, Commander Wood; and the revenue cutter McCulloch, despatch-boat. Also the transports Zaffiro and Nanshan with provisions and coal. There was no armored vessel in the squadron.

From the day Commodore Dewey took command of the Asiatic Station until April 24th, active preparations for war were going forward. The ships were kept stored to their full capacity with provisions, coal, and ammunition, and there was a continuous round of drill, target practice, manoeuvres, and evolutions. Dewey would be ready when action should become necessary. On April 24th the British authorities notified the American commander that he must quit Hong Kong within twenty-four hours. Dewey moved his squadron to Mirs Bay immediately. At six o'clock on the evening of April 25th, he received the following despatch:

"WASHINGTON, April 24, 1898.

"Dewey, Hong Kong:

"War has commenced between the United States and Spain. Proceed at once to the Philippine Islands. Commence operations at once, particularly against the Spanish fleet. You must capture vessels or destroy. Use utmost endeavors.

LONG."

These orders were all sufficient for Dewey. Even without them he had no alternative. Obliged to leave British, he would soon be debarred from Chinese, waters; he was nearly 8,000 miles from a home-port, and Honolulu, his nearest coaling station, was 6,000 miles away.

The following day was spent in consultation with his commanders in final preparation for his campaign, and waiting for the arrival from Manila of Williams, the American Consul, until the evening of the 27th, when at two o'clock he sailed out of Mirs Bay to find the fleet of Spain. Proceeding across the China Sea, the squadron sighted Cape Bolinas one hundred and fifteen miles north of the entrance to Manila Bay, at 3.30 A.M., on Saturday, April 30th. About thirty miles north of the entrance, a conference of commanders was held. Dewey announced his plans. Rumors of mines and torpedoes had no terrors for Dewey, and, steaming slowly into Manila Bay, his squadron passed between Corregidor and Caballos about midnight.

They arrived opposite Cavite about five o'clock, and, as daylight increased, the Spanish fleet could be seen in the harbor. This fleet, under Admiral Montejo, comprised ten vessels, viz.: The Reina Maria Cristina, a protected cruiser of 3,520 tons; the Castilla, a wooden cruiser of 3,340 tons; the Don Antonio de Ulloa, Don Juan de Austria, and Velasco, steel cruisers of 1,152 tons each; the Isla de Luzon and Isla de Cuba, gunboats of 1,040 tons each; the General Lezo and El Correo, gun vessels of 524 tons each; and the Marques del Duero, despatch-boat of 500 tons; besides tugs, transports, and launches, the latter used as torpedo-boats. There was no armored vessel in this fleet.

Though counting more fighting vessels, the Spanish fleet was inferior to the American squadron in size and armament. The Spanish vessels mounted 116 guns, the American 135. But the Spanish fleet was protected by land batteries and forts armed with modern guns. The Spaniards were, therefore, much superior to the Americans in force and armament.

At ten minutes past five the battle began, the Spaniards opening fire from ships and forts, at a distance of more than four miles. Two great mines were exploded in the path of the Olympia, but too far away to cause damage.

At twenty-three minutes past five Dewey said to Captain Gridley: "You may fire when ready." Almost instantly an eight-inch gun roared out American defiance. As with one voice the blue-jackets of the squadron gave forth the American war-cry, "Remember the Maine!" and the battle was on.

The Castilla lay moored head and stern under the protection of the guns, and surrounded by barges, which made it impossible to strike her below the water-line. The Reina Cristina, Admiral Montejo's flag-ship, and the other vessels of his fleet moved out to the battle protected by the forts and batteries. The Olympia in the lead, followed by the other vessels of the American squadron, headed straight for the centre of the Spanish line; then changing course, ran parallel to the Spanish line at a distance of four thousand yards. After passing the Spanish position the American squadron turned and again passed the Spanish line, decreasing the distance. The Spaniards were in strong position and fighting with consummate courage, but it soon became apparent that nothing could withstand the effects of American gunnery. Still, the Spaniards, knowing the exact distance of our vessels, were doing some damage. Early in the battle a shot struck and passed clean through the Baltimore, and another disabled a six-inch gun and exploded a box of ammunition, wounding eight men but killing no one. The Olympia was struck by a shell which, exploding outside, did little damage, and the signal halyards were cut out of the flag-officer's hands. The lines were immediately replaced by a blue-jacket. The Boston was struck by three shells, one starting a fire in a stateroom and another in the hammock-netting, while a third passed through the foremast near Captain Wildes. The squadron passed four times before the enemy, slightly decreasing the distance on each run, and on the fifth, believing that the depth of water was greater than he had supposed, Dewey took the Olympia closer, until on this last run he was within two thousand yards of the enemy. The Spaniards were suffering terribly and fought with courage and desperation. Admiral Montejo on the Reina Cristina sallied forth alone and made straight for the Olympia at full speed, but the concentrated fire of the whole American squadron drove him back to the protection of the breakwater, and as the flag-ship sped away, a shell from the Olympia struck her, passed through her entire length, and set her on fire.

Captain Cadarso was mortally wounded. Admiral Montejo in an open boat transferred his flag to the gunboat Isla de Cuba. The Castilla was repeatedly hit and was soon burning fiercely. The Don Juan de Austria was blown up by a shell entering the magazine. The other Spanish vessels and all the forts and batteries maintained a terrific firing. The heavy guns of Manila took part in the fight until Dewey sent a message to Governor-General Augusti, that unless they were immediately silenced he would shell the city. The message had its effect. Two small launches or torpedo-boats started out from the Castilla, headed for the Olympia, but the danger to her was averted by the concentrated fire of the squadron, and they hasted in their backward flight. A shell struck and sank one; the other was disabled. A Spanish gunboat slipping out of line made for the McCulloch, lying off with the transports, but nothing escaped the eagle eye on the bridge of the Olympia, and a hail of shells sent the adventurer scurrying back to cover.

It was half-past seven; the battle had raged incessantly for two hours, during which Commodore Dewey with his flag-officer had remained exposed on the bridge of the Olympia. The men had been undergoing a constant strain for twenty-four hours and had been served only with coffee, so at a quarter before eight the Olympia ceased firing, and the Commodore ordered the squadron to retire. It was time for "Dewey's Breakfast."