Manila, and the Part Taken by the Utah Batteries in Its Capture

MANILA AND THE PART TAKEN BY THE UTAH BATTERIES IN ITS CAPTURE. BY MAJOR RICHARD W. YOUNG. I had formed in my mind a picture of Manila very different from the original. The picture you are not interested in. The city itself is extremely interesting. It fronts on the bay now chiefly famous as the scene of Dewey's great victory, and stretches back from the shore for several miles on both sides of the Pasig river. It contains several hundred thousand inhabitants, of whom about 16,000 are Spanish soldiers, several thousand are Europeans engaged in civil pursuits, many thousands are Chinese, and the balance are natives. But do not jump at the conclusion that the natives are worthless savages. Nearly all speak Spanish. They furnish the clerks, tradesmen and artisans of the city. They read and write. They are very cleanly in their attire, the men in their suits of white, and the women in their picturesque and modest costumes. The sound of guitars, harps and violins greets your ears as you pass through their streets at night. Despite the enervating

influence of a tropical sun, they are ceaselessly energetic and industrious. The men with sticks across their shoulder from the ends of which depend great loads, and the little women with large, round baskets on their heads, actually trot through the merciless sunshine to and from their busy markets. The children are bright and quick. Many already salute you with " Good morning," or " How de do," pronounced with all the grandeur and politeness of their erstwhile Spanish masters. In the evening, a company of these black-headed, short-cropped, straight, quick, good natured, bare footed, sometimes pantless, little fellows will march by in military order with sticks for guns, carrying a United States and insurgent flag, and performing military evolutions with surprising accuracy. One cannot help becoming attached to these sunny little boys and girls, so polite to the stranger and so forbearing in their conduct with each other. Around the city in all directions, forming its suburbs, are the native districts. Many of the poorer natives still live in their native huts, constructed on stilts about five feet high, with floors of split bamboo, well ventilated, walls and roofs of dried leaves, and sliding doors and windows also of thatch. A fixed bench or so along the wall constitutes all the furniture; a mat made of straw, folded away during the day and spread on the bamboo floor at night, furnishes bedding; a pottery receptacle for charcoal is their stove, and the neighboring river their bath house and laundry. The women bathe with a sort of Mother Hubbard, fastened around the body under the arms, the men with a breech cloth, and the children with—a playful spirit. Passing through this fringe of native huts, you reach the very picturesque wooden houses of the Spanish order of architectureoverhanging roofs, overhanging upper stories, with great sliding windows opening the whole side of the house, and lower stories with strong doors, reserved for the servants or used as store rooms or stables; all try to live above the malarial or otherwise dangerous vapors that hover near the ground. Up the river are found the splendid summer palaces of the governor-general, the palace of Admiral Montojo and other public and private residences, having one front on the shaded street and the other overlooking the picturesque Pasig, down whose current are forever floating a species

of green plant resembling the lily in shape. At the mouth of the river a long jetty has been thrown out on the north side and a breakwater on the south. North of the stream is Binondo, the business district. Along the water front are great warehouses, and stretching back are many streets lined with busy places of trade. The stores and shops are mostly kept by the Chinese and natives, except on the Escalta, the chief street, where hotels, jewelry stores, soap and perfume shops, tailoring establishments, East Indian bazars, saloons, beer halls (with native string bands) and what not, jostle each other in a profusion and magnificence but little dreamed of by me. Why, the corner of the Escalta and Calle Nueva, the street that leads to the bridge of Spain, is as busy and crowded as Broadway at Fulton street. The street is frequently jammed and the services of several officers are. constantly required to keep the crossing passable. Below the bridge the river is packed with steamers and all kinds of craft. Canals run all over the city, and are used extensively in the commerce of the place. Street cars, propelled by the small native horses, traverse the principal streets. Great churches lift their picturesque fronts on many a street and square, and on the Sabbath day they are crowded by the devout natives in their clean and airy costumes. Bells, mostly jangling and out of tune, ring forth at all hours of the day. But the most interesting portion of the city, Old Manila, I have omitted to mention. It is a walled city of the middle ages in spirit, though more modern in point of fact: walls twenty feet high with crenelated tops, through the openings of which frown multitudinous bronze cannons, mostly of another age. Behind the walls, a succession of casemates, the roofs of which furnish a broad rampart just below the top of the walls; in front of the walls, moats crossed by draw bridges, and capable of being filled with water on a moment's notice; in front of the gates, outer works of defense; in the northwest corner, the Citadel, the fort of San Sebastian, frowning high over the entrance to the river with the vaulted dungeons below even the level of the sea; the whole constructed strictly according to the man who corresponds in the Art Militaire to Hoyle in — well, in! Within the city, barracks and barracks, great cathedrals and

churches, colleges and schools, monasteries and convents, palaces, courts ecclesiastical, arsenals, etc. In this interesting portion of the city are now confined the Spanish army captured by the Americans—good enough looking fellows, but worn down by years of fighting and jaundiced and invalided by the climate—now living in churches or anywhere that refuge can be had—the victors having occupied their barracks. Of the rest of the country we know little and have seen less. The situation has been such here, owing to the very strained relations between our own forces and those of Aguinaldo, that the troops have been kept quite closely at home. Of the doings of the Utah artillery there is probably no need to say much. No doubt some of my comrades have written full accounts of our part in the capture of Manila to our local newspapers. In brief outline our record is as follows: The call for troops—Utah's patriotic response in offering almost twice as many as were required; the muster-in, May 9th; the early departure for San Francisco; the embarkation for Manila, Battery A on the Colon and Battery B, half on the China and half on the Zealandia', the day at Honolulu; the visit to the Ladrones; the meeting of the Boston, at the north end of Luzon, with news of the battle at Santiago, and of the approach of Camara's fleet; the arrival, July 16th, at Cavite; the disembarkation, July 20th, at Camp Dewey— the only dry ground in the midst of miles of flooded rice fields and swamps, at a distance of two and one-quarter miles from the Spanish lines; the men compelled to carry their baggage, guns and ammunition ashore through surf more than waist-deep; the reconnoitering of the ground in front of us along the insurgent trenches, which in spots had been pushed up close to the enemy's works; the constant "ping" of the Spanish Mauser bullet and the occasional crash and explosion of a shell during these expeditions; the puttmg, July 29th, of two of Battery A's guns in two insurgent embrasures not far from the beach; the failure of the revolutionists to hold our right that and the succeeding night, and the splendid, but missed, opportunity to drive our weak advanced lines into the sea; the bringing forward of two of Battery B's guns, July 31st, and the placing of them and the two guns of Battery A in new positions about two hundred yards in front of our first position;,the vigorous

night attack of the Spanish with cannon and small arm, lasting for two hours and forty minutes, on the night of the 31st, during which our four guns fired nearly two hundred rounds mostly of shrapnel at point blank range; the uncertainty in the darkness of the Spanish movements and intentions; the terror in the camp for fear that the stories brought back by the first few stampeded soldiers were correct and that the troops had been wiped out; the rushing forward of reinforcements; the stretchers coming back with the dead and wounded; the renewal of the attack nearly every night for a week, the Utah troops being the only troops present in every engagement; the extension of our lines to our right so as to include in our front a strong Spanish block house known as No. 14; the whole country flooded with rain, which fell almost incessantly, our trenches being ditches and our guns standing in a foot of water; the order for the combined naval and army attack, August 13th; the construction of emplacements for all of our other guns and the moving of both batteries forward on the 13th; the grand and impressive moving out of Dewey's ships; the first gun from the Olympia, followed by rapid firing from other ships and from our own guns; the splendid marksmanship of our gunners, who, at one thousand and fifty yards on the left Icnocked blocks from the solid wall of Fort St. Anthony or sand bags from the earth-works near by, at every shot, and who, on the right, destroyed block house No. 14 in a dozen shots; the attack of the infantry; the feeble response of the enemy, driven out by the artillery fire; the raising of our flag on St. Anthony at 11:10 a. m.; the vigorous scrap on the right of the line—the complete capture; the surrender of the Spaniards, including a company of palace guards, with medieval uniforms and battle axes; the quartering of the American troops in Spanish barracks and houses; the luck of the Utah troops in getting into a commodious barrack; the praises of all of the work of the Utah batteries; the general con'census of opinion that of all the troops engaged none had done better nor so much work as our own organizations; the arrival of the recruits; the occasional call to arms to quell a rumored outbreak by the insurrectos; the hum-drum of barrack life; the desire to get home; the uncertainty of the future caused by the rumors that five thousand more soldiers and two battle ships were on their way here—such is the story of our

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service, told in headlines, as a newspaper man would say. The record is an honorable and a prominent one. No citizen of Utah need hesitate to investigate the part ot the Utah boys in the campaign against Manila, nor will he have occasion to blush when he learns it in detail.