Young Peoples History of the War with Spain | Page 4

most noted buildings in the city. It has one
long marble table running the entire length of the building, which has
one end open to the harbor. Poultry and fruits are brought to the doors
of the houses in baskets which are carried on donkeys or the little
horses of the country. Often you can see what looks like a large bunch
of grass, slowly moving over the pavements, but as it gets nearer you
will see the head of a donkey sticking out of one side, while his tail
alone is visible on the other side. This is the way that food for horses
and mules is brought into the city; no hay is used, only green feed. The
milkman does not call at the house, as with us, but instead drives his
cow up to the door and supplies you direct from her with as much milk
as you wish to buy. Charcoal is almost the only fuel used in cooking,

and the ranges look like benches placed against the walls with holes in
the tops of them. But we must return to the battleship Maine.
[Illustration: Columbus Chapel, Havana.]
There was no special work for the Maine to do; she was simply to stay
in the harbor till further orders. The Spanish officers called on Captain
Sigsbee, and he returned their visits, according to the rules that naval
officers of all countries are bound to observe. Yet it was easy for the
men of the Maine to see that they were not welcome guests. The Maine
had twenty-six officers, and a crew of three hundred and twenty-eight
men. With her guns, ammunition, and other valuable stores, she was
worth $5,000,000. She had been three years in service, having left the
Brooklyn navy-yard in November, 1895.
The evening of February 10th, 1898, was dark and sultry. At eight
o'clock Captain Sigsbee received the reports from the different officers
of the ship that every thing was secure for the night. At ten minutes
after nine the bugler sounded "taps," the signal for "turning in," and
soon the ship was quiet. At forty minutes after nine a sharp explosion
was heard, then a loud, long, roaring sound, mingled with the noise of
falling timbers; the electric lights went out, the ship was lifted up, and
then she began to sink. The Captain and some of the other officers
groped their way to the deck, hardly knowing what had happened. They
could do nothing; the ship was sinking fast, and was on fire in several
places.
The force of the explosion was so great that it threw Captain Sigsbee
out of his cabin, where he sat writing a letter, and against William
Anthony, a marine who was on duty as a sentry. As coolly as though
nothing had happened, Anthony saluted the Captain and then said:
"Sir, I have the honor to inform you that the ship has been blown up
and is sinking."
[Illustration: Captain Charles D. Sigsbee.]
Small boats came out from the other ships, and rescued many men from

the Maine. The Spaniards helped the sufferers in every possible way,
taking them to the hospitals in Havana, where they received the best
care that the hospitals could give.
In that awful destruction of the Maine, two officers and two hundred
and fifty-four of the crew were lost. Several of those who were rescued,
died afterward.
The next day divers went down into the water to see what they could
find in the wreck, and nineteen dead bodies were brought up. The
Spanish officers of Havana asked Captain Sigsbee to permit the city to
give the a public funeral; and a plot of ground in Colón Cemetery,
outside the city, was given to the United States free of expense forever.
The day of the funeral all the flags were put at "half mast," as a sign of
mourning, and the stores were closed. Crowds of people joined the long
funeral procession.
In the latter part of the year 1899, however, the Maine dead were
brought from Havana by the battleship Texas, then commanded by
Captain Sigsbee, formerly of the Maine. They were laid away in
Arlington Cemetery, near Washington, on December 28th, with simple
religious services and the honors of war, in the presence of the
President of the United States and his Cabinet, officers of the army and
navy, and many other spectators.
Besides Captain Sigsbee and Father Chidwick, who was chaplain of the
Maine at the time she was blown up, three others who lived through
that awful night were present. They were Lieutenant Commander
Wainwright, who was the executive officer of the Maine and who
afterwards sank the Furor and Pluton at Santiago; Lieutenant F.C.
Bowers, formerly assistant engineer of the Maine; and Jeremiah Shea, a
fireman of