Admiral Dewey

PUBLISHED IN “McCLURE’S MAGAZINE,” OCTOBER, 1899

PUBLISHED IN “McCLURE’S MAGAZINE,” OCTOBER 1899

Admiral Dewey has done more than add a glorious page to our history; more even than do a deed the memory of which will always be an inspiration to his countrymen, and especially his countrymen of his own profession. He has also taught us a lesson which should have profound practical effects, if only we are willing to learn it aright.

Admiral Dewey has done more than add a glorious page to our history. His deed will always inspire his fellow Americans, especially those who share his profession. But he has done more than that, too. He has taught us a lesson that should have profound practical effects, if only we are willing to learn it properly.

In the first place, he partly grasped and partly made his opportunity. Of course, in a certain sense, no man can absolutely make an opportunity. There were a number of admirals who, during the dozen years preceding the Spanish War, were retired without the opportunity of ever coming where it was possible to distinguish themselves; and it may be that some of these lacked nothing but the chance. Nevertheless, when the chance does come, only the great man can see it instantly and use it aright. In the second place, it must always be remembered that the power of using the chance aright comes only to the man who has faithfully and for long years made ready himself and his weapons for the possible need. Finally, and most important of all, it should ever be kept in mind that the man who does a great work must almost invariably owe the possibility of doing it to the faithful work of other men, either at the time or long before. Without his brilliancy their labor might be wasted, but without their labor his brilliancy would be of no avail.

First, he partly seized his opportunity and partly created it. Of course, no man can entirely create an opportunity. In the twelve years before the Spanish War, several admirals retired without ever having a chance to distinguish themselves. Some of them may have lacked nothing but that chance. Nevertheless, when the chance comes, only a great man can recognize it immediately and use it well. Second, we must always remember that a man can use such a chance well only if he has prepared. He must have spent many years faithfully preparing himself and his weapons for a possible need. Finally, and most important, we should always remember that a man who does great work almost invariably depends on the faithful work of others. They may have worked alongside him or long before him. Without his brilliance, their labor might be wasted. But without their labor, his brilliance would be useless.

It has been said that it was a mere accident that Dewey happened to be in command of the Asiatic Squadron when the war with Spain broke out. This is not the fact. He was sent to command it in the fall of 1897, because, to use the very language employed at the time, it was deemed wise to have there a man “who could go into Manila if necessary.” He owed the appointment to the high professional reputation he enjoyed, and to the character he had established for willingness to accept responsibility, for sound judgment, and for entire fearlessness.

Some have said it was mere chance that Dewey commanded the Asiatic Squadron when the war with Spain began. That is not true. He was sent to command the squadron in the fall of 1897. As people said at the time, it was wise to have a man there “who could go into Manila if necessary.” Dewey was appointed because of his strong professional reputation. He had also earned a reputation for accepting responsibility, exercising sound judgment, and being completely fearless.

Probably the best way (although no way is infallible) to tell the worth of a naval commander as yet untried in war is to get at the estimate in which he is held by the best fighting men who would have to serve under him. In the summer of 1897 there were in Washington captains and commanders who later won honor for themselves and their country in the war with Spain, and who were already known for the dash and skill with which they handled their ships, the excellence of their gun practice, the good discipline of their crews, and their eager desire to win honorable renown. All these men were a unit in their faith in the then Commodore Dewey, in their desire to serve under him, should the chance arise, and in their unquestioning belief that he was the man to meet an emergency in a way that would do credit to the flag.

Probably the best way to judge a naval commander who has not yet been tested in war is to ask the best fighting men who would serve under him what they think of him. No method is foolproof, though. In the summer of 1897, there were captains and commanders in Washington who later won honor for themselves and their country in the war with Spain. They were already known for the daring and skill with which they handled their ships. They were also known for their excellent gunnery, their well-disciplined crews, and their eagerness to win honorable renown. All these men shared a faith in the man who was then Commodore Dewey. All wanted to serve under him if the chance arose. And all believed without question that he was the man to meet an emergency in a way that would bring honor to the flag.

An excellent test is afforded by the readiness which the man has shown to take responsibility in any emergency in the past. One factor in Admiral Dewey’s appointment—of which he is very possibly ignorant—was the way in which he had taken responsibility in purchasing coal for the squadron that was to have been used against Chile, if war with Chile had broken out, at the time General Harrison was President. A service will do well or ill at the outbreak of war very much in proportion to the way it has been prepared to meet the outbreak during the preceding months. Now, it is often impossible to say whether the symptoms that seem to forbode war will or will not be followed by war. At one time, under President Harrison, we seemed as near war with Chile as ever we seemed to war with Spain under President McKinley. Therefore, when war threatens, preparations must be made in any event; for the evil of what proves to be the needless expenditure of money in one instance is not to be weighed for a moment against the failure to prepare in the other. But only a limited number of men have the moral courage to make these preparations, because there is always risk to the individual making them. Laws and regulations must be stretched when an emergency arises, and yet there is always some danger to the person who stretches them; and, moreover, in time of sudden need, some indispensable article can very possibly only be obtained at an altogether exorbitant price. If war comes, and the article, whether it be a cargo of coal, or a collier, or an auxiliary naval vessel, proves its usefulness, no complaint is ever made. But if the war does not come, then some small demagogue, some cheap economist, or some undersized superior who is afraid of taking the responsibility himself, may blame the man who bought the article and say that he exceeded his authority; that he showed more zeal than discretion in not waiting for a few days, etc. These are the risks which must be taken, and the men who take them should be singled out for reward and for duty. Admiral Dewey’s whole action in connection with the question of coal-supply for our fleet during the Chilean scare marked him as one of these men.

An excellent test is how readily a man has taken responsibility in past emergencies. One factor in Admiral Dewey’s appointment was his handling of a coal purchase. Dewey himself may well be unaware that this was a factor. He had taken responsibility for buying coal for a squadron during General Harrison’s presidency. The squadron was to be used against Chile if war broke out. A service’s performance at the outbreak of war depends greatly on how it prepared in the preceding months. Yet it is often impossible to know whether signs that seem to predict war will actually lead to it. Under President Harrison, we seemed as close to war with Chile as we ever seemed to war with Spain under President McKinley. Therefore, when war threatens, preparations must be made whether or not it comes. Money spent needlessly in one case is nothing compared with a failure to prepare in the other. But only a limited number of men have the moral courage to make these preparations. That is because the man who makes them always takes a personal risk. Laws and regulations must be stretched in an emergency, yet doing so always puts a person at some risk. Moreover, when a need is sudden, an essential item may be available only at an exorbitant price. If war comes and the item proves useful, no one ever complains. It may be a cargo of coal, a collier, or an auxiliary naval vessel. But if war does not come, the man who bought it may be blamed for exceeding his authority. A petty demagogue, a cheap economist, or a small-minded superior afraid to take responsibility himself may blame him. Such a critic may say that he showed more zeal than discretion by not waiting a few days, and so on. These are risks that must be taken. The men who take them should be singled out for reward and duty. Admiral Dewey’s entire handling of the fleet’s coal supply during the Chilean scare marked him as one of these men.

No one who has not some knowledge of the army and navy will appreciate how much this means. It is necessary to have a complete system of checks upon the actions, and especially upon the expenditures, of the army and navy; but the present system is at times altogether too complete, especially in war. The efficiency of the quartermasters and commissary officers of the army in the war with Spain was very seriously marred by their perfectly justifiable fear that the slightest departure from the requirements of the red-tape regulations of peace would result in the docking of their own pay by men more concerned in enforcing the letter of the law than in seeing the army clothed and fed. In the navy, before the passage of the Personnel Bill, a positive premium was put on a man’s doing nothing but keep out of trouble; for if only he could avoid a court-martial, his promotions would take care of themselves, so that from the selfish standpoint no possible good could come to him from taking risks, while they might cause him very great harm. The best officers in the service recognized the menace that this state of affairs meant to the service, and strove to counterbalance it in every way. No small part of the good done by the admirable War College, under Captains Mahan, Taylor, and Goodrich, lay in their insistence upon the need of the naval officer’s instantly accepting responsibility in any crisis, and doing what was best for the flag, even though it was probable the action might be disavowed by his immediate superiors, and though it might result in his own personal inconvenience and detriment. This was taught not merely as an abstract theory, but with direct reference to concrete cases; for instance, with reference to taking possession of Hawaii, if a revolution should by chance break out there during the presence of an American warship, or if the warship of a foreign power attempted to interfere with the affairs of the island.

Anyone without some knowledge of the army and navy will not appreciate how much this means. A complete system of checks on their actions is necessary, especially when it comes to spending. But the current system is sometimes far too thorough, especially in wartime. During the war with Spain, army quartermasters and commissary officers were much less effective because of their entirely justified fears. They feared that the slightest departure from peacetime red tape would lead to cuts in their own pay. Those enforcing the rules cared more about following the letter of the law than about clothing and feeding the army. In the navy, before the Personnel Bill passed, the system actually rewarded a man for doing nothing but staying out of trouble. As long as he avoided a court-martial, his promotions would take care of themselves. So, from a selfish point of view, he could gain nothing by taking risks, while they could do him great harm. The best officers in the service recognized the danger this posed and tried in every way to counteract it. Much of the good done by the admirable War College, under Captains Mahan, Taylor, and Goodrich, came from their teaching. They insisted that a naval officer must immediately accept responsibility in any crisis. He must do what was best for the flag, even if his immediate superiors would probably disavow his action. He must do this even if it might cause him personal inconvenience and harm. They taught this not merely as an abstract theory, but through specific cases. One example was taking possession of Hawaii if a revolution happened to break out while an American warship was there. Another was doing so if a foreign warship tried to interfere in the island’s affairs.

For the work which Dewey had to do willingness to accept responsibility was a prime requisite. A man afraid to vary in times of emergency from the regulations laid down in time of peace would never even have got the coal with which to steam to Manila from Hong Kong the instant the crisis came. We were peculiarly fortunate in our Secretary of the Navy, Mr. Long; but the best Secretary that ever held the navy portfolio could not successfully direct operations on the other side of the world. All that he could do was to choose a good man, give him the largest possible liberty of action, and back him up in every way; and this Secretary Long did. But if the man chosen had been timid about taking risks, nothing that could be done for him would have availed. Such a man would not have disobeyed orders. The danger would have been of precisely the contrary character. He would scrupulously have done just whatever he was told to do, and then would have sat down and waited for further instructions, so as to protect himself if something happened to go wrong. An infinity of excuses can always be found for non-action.

For the work Dewey had to do, a willingness to accept responsibility was essential. A man afraid to depart from peacetime regulations in an emergency would never even have obtained the coal he needed. He needed it to steam from Hong Kong to Manila the moment the crisis came. We were especially fortunate to have Mr. Long as Secretary of the Navy. But even the best Secretary of the Navy could not successfully direct operations on the other side of the world. All he could do was choose a good man, give him as much freedom to act as possible, and support him in every way. Secretary Long did just that. But if the man chosen had been afraid to take risks, nothing done for him would have helped. Such a man would not have disobeyed orders. The danger would have been exactly the opposite. He would have carefully done only what he was told to do. Then he would have sat down and waited for further instructions. That way, he could protect himself if something went wrong. There is no end to the excuses one can find for doing nothing.

Admiral Dewey was sent to command the fleet on the Asiatic station primarily because he had such a record in the past that the best officers in the navy believed him to be peculiarly a man of the fighting temperament and fit to meet emergencies, and because he had shown his willingness to assume heavy responsibilities. How amply he justified his choice it is not necessary to say. On our roll of naval heroes his name will stand second to that of Farragut alone, and no man since the Civil War, whether soldier or civilian, has added so much to the honorable renown of the nation or has deserved so well of it. For our own sakes, and in particular for the sake of any naval officer who in the future may be called upon to do such a piece of work as Dewey did, let us keep in mind the further fact that he could not have accomplished his feat if he had not had first-class vessels and excellently trained men; if his warships had not been so good, and his captains and crews such thorough masters of their art. A man of less daring courage than Dewey would never have done what he did; but the courage itself was not enough. The Spaniards, too, had courage. What they lacked was energy, training, forethought. They fought their vessels until they burned or sank; but their gunnery was so poor that they did not kill a man in the American fleet. Even Dewey’s splendid capacity would not have enabled him to win the battle of Manila Bay had it not been for the traditional energy and seamanship of our naval service, so well illustrated in his captains, and the excellent gun-practice of the crews, the result of years of steady training. Furthermore, even this excellence in the personnel would not have availed if under a succession of Secretaries of the Navy, and through the wisdom of a succession of Congresses, the material of the navy had not been built up as it actually was.

Admiral Dewey was sent to command the fleet at the Asiatic station primarily because of his past record. The best officers in the navy believed he had an exceptional fighting spirit and could meet emergencies. He had also shown that he was willing to take on heavy responsibilities. There is no need to say how fully he justified their choice. Among our naval heroes, his name will stand second only to Farragut’s. Since the Civil War, no soldier or civilian has done more to add to the nation’s honorable reputation or has deserved more from the nation. For our own sake, let us remember another fact. It is especially important for any naval officer who may someday be called on to do what Dewey did. He could not have accomplished his feat without first-class vessels and excellently trained men. His warships had to be so good, and his captains and crews had to be such complete masters of their craft. A man with less daring courage than Dewey would never have done what he did. But courage alone was not enough. The Spaniards had courage too. What they lacked was energy, training, and foresight. They fought their ships until they burned or sank. But their gunnery was so poor that they did not kill a single man in the American fleet. Even Dewey’s splendid ability would not have won the battle of Manila Bay by itself. He also needed the energy and seamanship that had long been traditions in our naval service and that his captains displayed so well. He needed the crews’ excellent gunnery, the result of years of steady training. Furthermore, even these excellent officers and crews would not have been enough if the navy’s ships and equipment had not been built up as they were. This was done under a succession of Secretaries of the Navy and through the wisdom of a succession of Congresses.

If war with Spain had broken out fifteen years before it did,—that is, in the year 1883, before our new navy was built,—it would have been physically impossible to get the results we actually did get. At that time our navy consisted of a collection of rusty monitors and antiquated wooden ships left over from the Civil War, which could not possibly have been matched against even the navy of Spain. Every proposal to increase the navy was then violently opposed with exactly the same arguments used nowadays by the men who oppose building up our army. The Congressmen who rallied to the support of Senator Gorman in his refusal to furnish an adequate army to take care of the Philippines and meet the new national needs, or who defeated the proposition to buy armor-plate for the new ships, assumed precisely the ground that was taken by the men who, prior to 1883, had succeeded in preventing the rebuilding of the navy. Both alike did all they could to prevent the upholding of the national honor in times of emergency. There were the usual arguments: that we were a great peaceful people, and would never have to go to war; that if we had a navy or army we should be tempted to use it and therefore embark in a career of military conquest; that there was no need of regulars anyhow, because we could always raise volunteers to do anything; that war was a barbarous method of settling disputes, and too expensive to undertake even to avoid national disgrace, and so on.

If war with Spain had broken out fifteen years earlier, we could not possibly have achieved the results we did. That would have been in 1883, before our new navy was built. At that time, our navy was a collection of rusty monitors and outdated wooden ships left over from the Civil War. They could not possibly have matched even Spain’s navy. Every proposal to expand the navy met fierce opposition. Opponents used exactly the same arguments that men now use against building up our army. Some members of Congress supported Senator Gorman’s refusal to provide an adequate army to take care of the Philippines and meet new national needs. Others defeated the proposal to buy armor plate for the new ships. Both groups took exactly the same position as the men who had prevented the navy from being rebuilt before 1883. Both did all they could to prevent the nation from upholding its honor in times of emergency. There were the usual arguments. We were a great, peaceful people and would never have to go to war. If we had a navy or army, we would be tempted to use it and set out on a career of military conquest. There was no need for regular troops anyway, because we could always raise volunteers to do anything. War was a barbaric way to settle disputes. It was too expensive to undertake, even to avoid national disgrace. And so on.

But fortunately the men of sturdy common sense and sound patriotism proved victors, and the new navy was begun. Its upbuilding was not a party matter. The first ships were laid down under Secretary Chandler; Secretary Whitney continued the work; Secretary Tracy carried it still further; so did Secretary Herbert, and then Secretary Long. Congress after Congress voted the necessary money. We have never had as many ships as a nation of such size and such vast interests really needs; but still by degrees we have acquired a small fleet of battleships, cruisers, gunboats, and torpedo-boats, all excellent of their class. The squadron with which Dewey entered Manila Bay included ships laid down or launched under Secretaries Chandler, Whitney, Tracy, and Herbert; and all four of these Secretaries, their naval architects, the chiefs of bureaus, the young engineers and constructors, the outside contractors, the shipyard men like Roach, Cramp, and Scott, and, finally and emphatically, the Congressmen who during these fifteen years voted the supplies, are entitled to take a just pride in their share of the glory of the achievement. Every man in Congress whose vote made possible the building of the Olympia, the Baltimore, the Raleigh, or the putting aboard them and their sister ships the modern eight-inch or rapid-fire five-inch guns, or the giving them the best engines and the means where with to practice their crews at the targets—every such man has the right to tell his children that he did his part in securing Dewey’s victory, and that, save for the action of him and his fellows, it could not have been won. This is no less true of the man who planned the ships and of the other men, whether in the government service or in private employment, who built them, from the head of the great business concern which put up an armor-plate factory down to the iron-worker who conscientiously and skilfully did his part on gun-shield or gun.

But fortunately, men with firm common sense and sound patriotism won, and construction of the new navy began. Building it was not a party issue. The first ships were begun under Secretary Chandler. Secretary Whitney continued the work, and Secretary Tracy carried it further. Secretary Herbert and then Secretary Long did the same. Congress after Congress voted to provide the necessary money. We have never had as many ships as a nation of our size and vast interests really needs. But gradually we have acquired a small fleet of battleships, cruisers, gunboats, and torpedo boats. All are excellent ships of their class. The squadron Dewey led into Manila Bay included ships begun or launched under Secretaries Chandler, Whitney, Tracy, and Herbert. All four Secretaries are entitled to take just pride in their share of the glory of that achievement. So are their naval architects, the bureau chiefs, the young engineers and shipbuilders, and the outside contractors. The same is true of shipyard men like Roach, Cramp, and Scott. Finally, and emphatically, the Congressmen who voted for supplies during those fifteen years deserve that pride too. Every Congressman whose vote made it possible to build the Olympia, the Baltimore, or the Raleigh has a right to tell his children he helped secure Dewey’s victory. So does every Congressman whose vote helped equip those ships and their sister ships with modern eight-inch or rapid-fire five-inch guns. The same is true of every Congressman whose vote gave them the best engines and the means to practice firing at targets. Each can say that, without the actions of him and his fellow Congressmen, the victory could not have been won. This is no less true of the man who designed the ships and the other men who built them, whether they worked for the government or for private employers. They ranged from the head of the great business that built an armor-plate factory to the ironworker who conscientiously and skillfully did his part on a gun shield or gun.

So much for the men who furnished the material and the means for assembling and practicing the personnel. The same praise must be given the men who actually drilled the personnel, part of which Dewey used. If our ships had merely been built and then laid up, if officers and crews had not been exercised season after season in all weathers on the high seas in handling their ships both separately and in squadron, and in practicing with the guns, all the excellent material would have availed us little. Exactly as it is of no use to give an army the best arms and equipment if it is not also given the chance to practice with its arms and equipment, so the finest ships and the best natural sailors and fighters are useless to a navy if the most ample opportunity for training is not allowed. Only incessant practice will make a good gunner; though, inasmuch as there are natural marksmen as well as men who never can become good marksmen, there should always be the widest intelligence displayed in the choice of gunners. Not only is it impossible for a man to learn how to handle a ship or do his duty aboard her save by long cruises at sea, but it is also impossible for a good single-ship captain to be an efficient unit in a fleet unless he is accustomed to manœuvre as part of a fleet.

That covers the men who provided the equipment and the means to assemble and train the personnel. The same praise goes to the men who actually trained them, some of whom served under Dewey. Suppose our ships had merely been built and then left idle. Suppose their officers and crews had not spent season after season on the high seas, in all kinds of weather. They needed to practice handling their ships both individually and as a squadron, and firing their guns. Without that practice, all the excellent equipment would have been of little use. It is useless to give an army the best weapons and equipment without also letting it practice with them. In the same way, the finest ships and the best natural sailors and fighters are useless to a navy without ample opportunity for training. Only constant practice can make a good gunner. But some men are natural marksmen, while others can never become good marksmen. So gunners should always be chosen with the greatest possible care and judgment. A man can learn to handle a ship or do his duty aboard it only through long voyages at sea. Even a good captain of a single ship cannot serve effectively as part of a fleet unless he is used to maneuvering with one.

It is particularly true of the naval service that the excellence of any portion of it in a given crisis will depend mainly upon the excellence of the whole body, and so the triumph of any part is legitimately felt to reflect honor upon the whole and to have been participated in by every one. Dewey’s captains could not have followed him with the precision they displayed, could not have shown the excellent gun practice they did show—in short, the victory would not have been possible had it not been for the unwearied training and practice given the navy during the dozen years previous by the admirals, the captains, and the crews who incessantly and in all weathers kept their vessels exercised, singly and in squadron, until the men on the bridge, the men in the gun-turrets, and the men in the engine-rooms knew how to do their work perfectly, alone or together. Every officer and man, from the highest to the lowest, who did his full duty in raising the navy to the standard of efficiency it had reached on May 1, 1898, is entitled to feel some personal share in the glory won by Dewey and Dewey’s men. It would have been absolutely impossible not merely to improvise either the material or the personnel with which Dewey fought, but to have produced them in any limited number of years. A thoroughly good navy takes a long time to build up, and the best officer embodies always the traditions of a first-class service. Ships take years to build, crews take years before they become thoroughly expert, while the officers not only have to pass their early youth in a course of special training, but can not possibly rise to supreme excellence in their profession unless they make it their life-work.

This is especially true in the navy: how well any part performs in a crisis depends mainly on the entire service’s excellence. So the triumph of any part rightly brings honor to the whole navy, and everyone can feel they shared in it. Dewey’s captains followed him with precision and demonstrated excellent gunnery. Neither achievement, nor the victory itself, would have been possible without the navy’s tireless training and practice during the previous twelve years. Throughout that time, admirals, captains, and crews constantly trained aboard their ships, in all kinds of weather. They trained both individually and in squadrons. As a result, the men on the bridge, in the gun turrets, and in the engine rooms learned to do their work perfectly, alone or together. Every officer and man, from the highest to the lowest, who did his full duty helped raise the navy to the standard of efficiency it had reached on May 1, 1898. Each is entitled to feel a personal share in the glory won by Dewey and Dewey’s men. It would have been absolutely impossible to improvise either the equipment or the personnel with which Dewey fought. It would have been impossible even to produce them in a limited number of years. A truly good navy takes a long time to build, and the best officer always embodies the traditions of a first-class service. Ships take years to build, and crews take years to become thoroughly skilled. Officers must spend their early youth in special training. They cannot possibly reach the highest level of excellence in their profession unless they make it their life’s work.

We should therefore keep in mind that the hero can not win save for the forethought, energy, courage, and capacity of countless other men. Yet we must keep in mind also that all this forethought, energy, courage, and capacity will be wasted unless at the supreme moment some man of the heroic type arises capable of using to the best advantage the powers lying ready to hand. Whether it is Nelson, the greatest of all admirals, at Aboukir, Copenhagen, or Trafalgar; or Farragut, second only to Nelson, at New Orleans or Mobile; or Dewey at Manila—the great occasion must meet with the great man, or the result will be at worst a failure, at best an indecisive success. The nation must make ready the tools and train the men to use them, but at the crisis a great triumph can be achieved only should some heroic man appear. Therefore it is right and seemly to pay homage of deep respect and admiration to the man when he does appear.

We should remember that a hero cannot win without the planning, energy, courage, and ability of countless other men. Yet all of those qualities will be wasted unless a heroic man appears at the critical moment. He must be able to make the best use of the resources at hand. Consider Nelson, the greatest of all admirals, at Aboukir, Copenhagen, or Trafalgar. Consider Farragut, second only to Nelson, at New Orleans or Mobile, or Dewey at Manila. A great occasion must meet a great man. Otherwise, the result will be a failure at worst and an indecisive success at best. The nation must prepare the tools and train men to use them. But at the moment of crisis, a great triumph is possible only if a heroic man appears. So it is right and fitting to honor him with deep respect and admiration when he does appear.

Admiral Dewey performed one of the great feats of all time. At the very outset of the Spanish War he struck one of the two decisive blows which brought the war to a conclusion, and as his was the first fight, his success exercised an incalculable effect upon the whole conflict. He set the note of the war. He had carefully prepared for action during the months he was on the Asiatic coast. He had his plans thoroughly matured, and he struck the instant that war was declared. There was no delay, no hesitation. As soon as news came that he was to move, his war-steamers turned their bows toward Manila Bay. There was nothing to show whether or not Spanish mines and forts would be efficient; but Dewey, cautious as he was at the right time, had not a particle of fear of taking risks when the need arose. In the tropic night he steamed past the forts, and then on over the mines to where the Spanish vessels lay. What material inferiority there was on the Spanish side was nearly made up by the forts and mines. The overwhelming difference was moral, not material. It was the difference in the two commanders, in the officers and crews of the two fleets, and in the naval service, afloat and ashore, of the two nations. On the one side there had been thorough preparation; on the other, none that was adequate. It would be idle to recapitulate the results. Steaming in with cool steadiness, Dewey’s fleet cut the Spaniards to pieces, while the Americans were practically unhurt. Then Dewey drew off to breakfast, satisfied himself that he had enough ammunition, and returned to stamp out what embers of resistance were still feebly smouldering.

Admiral Dewey performed one of the greatest feats of all time. At the very start of the Spanish War, he struck one of the two decisive blows that brought it to an end. His was the first fight, and his success had an incalculable effect on the whole conflict. He set the tone for the war. During his months on the Asiatic coast, he had carefully prepared for action. He had fully developed his plans, and he struck the moment war was declared. There was no delay, no hesitation. As soon as he received orders to move, his warships headed toward Manila Bay. There was no way to know whether the Spanish mines and forts would be effective. But Dewey, though cautious when caution was called for, was completely unafraid to take risks when necessary. On a tropical night, he steamed past the forts and over the mines to where the Spanish vessels lay. The forts and mines nearly made up for any material disadvantage on the Spanish side. The overwhelming difference was moral, not material. It lay in the two commanders, the officers and crews of the two fleets, and the two nations’ naval services, at sea and ashore. One side had prepared thoroughly. The other had made no adequate preparations. There is no need to repeat the results. Steaming in with cool steadiness, Dewey’s fleet cut the Spaniards to pieces, while the Americans were practically unharmed. Then Dewey withdrew for breakfast and made sure he had enough ammunition. He returned to put out the last faintly smoldering embers of resistance.

The victory ensured the fall of the Philippines, for Manila surrendered as soon as our land forces arrived and were in position to press their attack home. The work, however, was by no means done, and Dewey’s diplomacy and firmness were given full scope for the year he remained in Manila waters, not only in dealing with Spaniards and insurgents, but in making it evident that we would tolerate no interference from any hostile European power. It is not yet the time to show how much he did in this last respect. Suffice it to say that by his firmness he effectually frustrated any attempt to interfere with our rights, while by his tact he avoided giving needless offence, and he acted in hearty accord with our cordial well-wishers, the English naval and diplomatic representatives in the islands.

The victory ensured the fall of the Philippines. Manila surrendered as soon as our land forces arrived and were ready to press their attack. But the work was far from done. During the year Dewey remained in Manila waters, his diplomacy and firmness were fully tested. He dealt with Spaniards and insurgents. He also made it clear that we would tolerate no interference from any hostile European power. It is not yet time to reveal how much he did to prevent such interference. Suffice it to say that his firmness effectively stopped any attempt to interfere with our rights. At the same time, his tact helped him avoid giving needless offense. He worked in wholehearted cooperation with our cordial well-wishers, the English naval and diplomatic representatives in the islands.

Admiral Dewey comes back to his native land having won the right to a greeting such as has been given to no other man since the Civil War.

Admiral Dewey returns to his homeland having earned a welcome unlike any given to another man since the Civil War.