out, with the exception of Deignan, who said nonchalantly, "Oh, I guess we stand a fair show of getting out, but they can't stop us going in," this last in a most matter-of-fact style, as though going in was the only point worth considering. So it was to them. This was everyday heroism, heroism in overalls, black with oil and coal dust from ankle to eyebrow. Lieutenant Hobson, despite his uniform, was almost as dirty and dishevelled as his men, with forty-eight hours' growth of beard, eyes sunken for lack of food and sleep, and hands as black as a coal heaver's, but the hands were cool and firm in their grasp, as though he were going on parade and nothing could dull the fire of those sunken hazel eyes. Reserved, but courteous even to gentleness, he talked briefly of his plans. He spoke as his men had spoken of going in, nothing of coming back, except this, just at parting: "Now, pardon me, but in case you gentlemen write about this expedition, please don't say anything individually about its members until you know." He accented the last word and the inference was known-until you know we are dead, would have filled out the sentence. A few hours before the departure a young officer from the "Marblehead" came on board the "Merrimac" and asked: "Shall we send you fellows over some breakfast? We would be delighted and can do it just as well as not." "Never mind about the breakfast, old man," responded Lieutenant Hobson, "but if you can send some coffee we would be very glad. You see we are swept pretty clean here, and none of us have had a drop of coffee since day before yesterday." It was a trivial incident, but coming from a man doomed almost to certain death, it seemed to add the last touch of the pathetic to a situation heartbreaking enough in itself. Before Hobson set the old collier ship towards the harbor entrance, he made every necessary preparation for sinking the vessel quickly when she should be brought within the proper position for effectively obstructing the channel. The "Merrimac" was an old, almost unseaworthy craft, fit for little service, without being constantly repaired, but she was bulky, and composed of material that would render her wreck a dangerous menace to ships trying to pass the narrow entrance. To destroy her quickly, however, was a problem, which Hobson prepared to solve by lashing ten powerful torpedoes by means of hog chains along the port side of the ship, below the water line, all of which were connected by electric wire to be fired simultaneously by a battery located on the bridge. By such provision it was calculated that the entire port side might be torn out instantly, and by opening the sea cocks the vessel would sink in about one minute. Chances of escape, small as they would be, were taken by mooring a dingy at the stern of the ship into which the men were to lower themselves, in case any of them should be so fortunate as to survive the enemy's fire and the vessel's explosion, a contingency which seemed extremely remote. On board the ships of the fleet picketed about the entrance, every officer and man, with many warm heart-beats for their brave comrades, awaited the issue with eyes anxiously fixed on the jutting headlands that marked the entrance of the harbor, but as the "Merrimac" steamed Breathless With Anxiety Comrades Watch the Depart ure. forward Admiral Sampson, pacing the deck of the flagship, looked at his watch and at the streaks in the east and decided that the "Merrimac" could not reach the entrance before broad daylight. Consequently, the torpedo boat "Porter," which was alongside, was dispatched to recall the daring officer. Lieutenant Hobson sent back a protest, with a request for permission to proceed. But the admiral declined to allow him to take the risk, and slowly the "Merrimac" swung about and returned to her anchorage. When the vessel was boarded by officers from the "New York," discovery was made that there were two men on the "Merrimac" who were not properly detailed from the volunteers for the daring enterprise. They were Assistant Engineer Crank, of the "Merrimac," and Boatswain Mullin, of the "New York," who had been working on the collier all day. These two men refused to leave the ship, and, as their disobedience was of a nature which produced Cushings and Farraguts for the American navy, it was not officially recognized. The spirit shown by the men and officers of the fleet in connection with the "Merrimac" expedition was really grand and beyond being expressed in words. During the day Lieutenant Hobson went aboard the flagship. His once white duck trousers were as black as a coal heaver's, his old fatigue coat was unbuttoned and his begrimed face was deep furrowed by tense drawn lines, but steady resolution still shone in his eyes. So absorbed was he in the task ahead of him, that unmindful of his appearance, and of all ceremony and naval etiquette, he told the Admiral in a tone of command that he must not again be interfered with. "I can carry this thing through," said he, "but there must be no more recalls. My men have been keyed up for twenty four hours and under a tremendous strain. Iron will break at last." Such was the indomitable will and courage with which he faced death and glory. When Hobson left the ship, and the extended hands of his shipmates, more than one of the latter turned hastily to hide the unbidden tear. But. the lieutenant waved them adieu with a smile on his handsome face. The "Merrimac" made her second start shortly after three o'clock a. m. The full moon had disappeared behind a black cloud bank in the west, leaving only a gray mark of heaving waters and the dim outline of the Cuban hills showing against the unstarred sky to the watchers on board the ships of the fleet. It was that calm hour before dawn, when life is at its lowest ebb and the tide runs out, carrying the lives of mortals with it. Slowly the seconds of fate ticked on, as for an hour three thousand strained eyes strove to pierce the deep veil of night. Suddenly several blood red tongues of flame shot down from the rocky eminence on which Morro Castle is situated. They were followed by jets and streams of fire from the batteries opposite. The "Merrimac" had reached the entrance of the harbor. She must have passed so close that a stone loosened from Hail of the Battle Guns. the frowning parapet of the castle would have fallen on her deck. Into the murderous hail showered down on her, the "Merrimac" passed and moved on, a full quarter of a mile, enfiladed from both sides, and from the rear and front with a plunging fire from the batteries that surrounded her. It seems a miracle that her apparently riddled hull could have reached the goal. After five minutes the firing ceased and all became dark again. Then among the watchers of the fleet arose the question as to whether these five minutes of murder had left grief-stricken mothers or widows or orphans. Mother, wife, sister or sweetheart might even then be dreaming of her loved one, all unconscious of the fact that the object of her dream was earning fame, perhaps with his life. During the next half hour, while the fleet silently waited in suspense for the coming of the day, many fingers itched at the lanyards of the guns and many a gunner's mate besought permission to fire. But nothing could be done. An ill-directed shot might kill our men, possibly struggling in the water toward the open sea. Meantime the tension aboard the flagship was intense. Ensign Powell had reported that he had clearly seen the "Merrimac's '' masts sticking up just where Hobson hoped to sink her, but of the heroes who had penned the Spaniards in there was not a sound or a sign. Rear-Admiral Sampson said he believed Hobson would have a fair chance to escape after his hazardous and extremly plucky adventure, which he felt sure had been successful. He expressed the hope that all those brave fellows had not lost their lives. Under such circumstances, no one can imagine the immense feeling of satisfaction experienced when it became known that Hobson and the crew of the "Merrimac " were safe. Later in the day a boat with a white flag put out from the Safe Out of the harbor and Captain Oviedo, the chief of staff of Admiral Cervera, boarded the "New York" and informed the admiral that the whole party had been captured and that only two of the heroes were injured. Lieutenant Hobson was not hurt. The Spanish admiral was so struck with the courage of the "Merrimac's " crew that he decided to inform Admiral Sampson that they had not lost their lives, but were prisoners of war and could be exchanged. They were captured and sent to Santiago under guard, previous to being transferred to Morro Castle, where they were confined until exchanged for Spanish officers one month later (July 5). Particulars of the escape from the most imminent peril were not fully learned until Hobson and his men returned to the American lines, after their exchange, although many stories were told, chiefly based on Spanish reports, all alike highly creditable to the almost unparalleled courage of the heroic seven. When the torpedoes were exploded by Hobson the ship was so rent that she dove quickly to the depths. None of the seven men were injured, but when they sought the dingy they found it had been shot to pieces by the terrific fire from the shore batteries. The only means at hand for escape now lay in a catamaran carried on the deck, which was hastily cast overboard, and the men jumped after it as the ship sank beneath them. The Spaniards continued their fire for a few minutes after the seven heroes had mounted the raft, and balls of many calibres fell about them like hail, but Providence guarded their precious lives. The Spanish officers were so amazed by such astonishing daring that with chivalrous spirit they ordered the firing to cease and even sent boats to help the men ashore, where they were received by the enemy with a magnanimous welcome, and as prisoners were accorded the most generous treatment. The names and antecedents of the gallant sailors who composed the crew that with Hobson defied the very jaws of death, deserve to be imperishably remembered by a grateful country. They were: George Charette, first-class gunner's mate on the "New York "; born in Lowell, Mass., twenty-nine years of age; last enlistment May 20, 1898; has been in the service since 1884; his next of kin is Alexander Charette, father, Lowell, Mass. Osborne Deignan, coxswain on the "Merrimac"; born in Stuart, Ia., twenty-one years old; last enlistment April 22, 1898; next of kin, Julia Deignan, mother, Stuart, Ia. George F. Phillips, machinist on the "Merrimac"; born in Boston, thirty-four years old; last enlistment March 30, 1898; next of kin, Andrew Phillips, Cambridgeport, Mass. Francis Kelly, water-tender on the "Merrimac "; born in Boston, twenty. eight years of age; enlisted at Norfolk, April 21, last; next of kin, Francis Kelly, Boston. Randolph Clausen, coxswain on the "New York "; born in Boston and twenty-eight years of age; last enlistment February 25, 1897; next of kin, Terresa Clausen, wife, 127 Cherry street, New York. Daniel Montague, seaman, of the armored cruiser "Brooklyn." HOW HOBSON AND HIS MEN WERE SAVED BY CERVERA. Thrilling Narrative of the Hero of Events Immediately Following the Sinking of the "Merrimac." BY Robson T was dark when we started in toward the strait, and it was darker when we got the ship into position. We all knew that we were taking desperate chances, and in order to be unencumbered when we got into the water, we stripped down to our underclothing. The ship gave a heave when the charges exploded, and as she sank with a lurch at the bow we got over her sides. That we got into the water is nearly all we know of what happened in that rather brief period. Some sprang over the ship's side, but more than one of us was thrown over the rail by the shock and the lurching of the ship. It was our plan to escape on a catamaran float which lay on the roof of the midship house. One of the greatest dangers of the thing was that of being caught in the suction made by the ship as she The Plan of Escape. went down, so we tied the float to the taffrail, giving it slack line enough, as we thought, to let it float loose after the ship had settled into her resting place. I swam away from the ship as soon as I struck the water, but I could feel the eddies drawing me backward in spite of all I could do. That did not last very long, however, and as soon as I felt the tugging ease I turned |