The sinking of the battleship Maine in Havana’s harbor on February 15, 1898, left the assistant secretary of the U.S. Navy, Theodore Roosevelt, convinced that the fault lay with the Spanish. He was positive that the explosion was no accident–that Maine was a victim of ‘dirty treachery.

Comments supporting the possibility of an accident were a particular worry to Roosevelt. As a pugnacious advocate of a strong navy, he bristled when Republican congressional leaders warned that such a disaster proved that the United States must stop building battleships.

Roosevelt called such reaction weak and cowardly. He argued that even the most advanced naval powers had accidents–they were as inevitable as losses in war. The men who live aboard these ships recognize and accept the hazard. The nation which they defend cannot do less. The loss of the Maine was the price the country must pay to assume its role as a great power.

But Roosevelt did more than talk. On the afternoon of February 25, Secretary of the Navy John Long left his office early and thus placed Roosevelt in charge.

The fox was loose in the chicken house. The assistant secretary began to issue fleet orders as fast as the telegrapher could handle them. A general alert was sent to all ships, stations and fleet commanders throughout the world–ordering them to have their ships fueled and ready to leave port immediately.

Even prior to the Maine disaster, Commodore George Dewey had sailed with his flagship, the cruiser Olympia, to Hong Kong. However, the rest of Dewey’s squadron was still at Nagasaki, Japan.

Roosevelt changed that in a hurry. He telegraphed Dewey: Order your squadron, except the Monocacy, to join you at Hong Kong. In event of declaration of war against Spain, your duty will be to see that Spanish ships do not leave the Asiatic coast, and then begin offensive operations in the Philippine Islands.

When Secretary Long returned to his office, he was surprised and upset at the actions Roosevelt had taken. But the orders to Commodore Dewey were not rescinded.

On Friday, March 25, the Navy’s final report on the cause of the Maine disaster was delivered to the White House. The following Monday, President McKinley announced to the world that Maine had been destroyed by a mine.

This was the news the American public had been waiting to hear. The nation’s press called for war, and the cry, Remember the Maine! went far to heal the festering wounds of the recent Civil War.

The American people became united in a common cause. Only war could satisfy their hunger for revenge, heightened by the rival Hearst and Pulitzer newspapers. In the wind were a newspaper circulation war in the States and a shooting war on the high seas.

The loss of Maine was not the only issue provoking the nationalistic outburst. The issue of Spanish misrule in Cuba had acquired an importance equal to who was to blame for the destruction of the battleship Maine.

President McKinley’s secretary of state, William R. Day, declared that Spain must accept responsibility for the loss of Maine. Spain not only must make reparations to the United States, but also grant Cuba her independence. The president, however, strived for neutrality and sought concessions from Spain in order to satisfy America’s lust for war. But flagwaving congressmen demanded retribution and continually exerted pressure on McKinley to act militarily against the Spanish. Secretary of War Russell A. Alger told the president that Congress was hellbent for revenge and would declare war in spite of McKinley’s pleas for calmness and cool heads.

The war hawks finally prevailed. On April 19, Congress passed a resolution demanding that Spain relinquish her authority and government in Cuba–and McKinley was authorized to use the armed forces to effectuate the decree. Except for a formal declaration, the United States was at war with Spain.

Within a few days, President McKinley ordered a naval blockade of Cuban ports, and a call went out for 125,000 Army volunteers. Then, on April 25, Congress passed a joint resolution stating that a state of war existed between the two countries.

George Dewey, the man awaiting developments in distant Hong Kong, had entered the U.S. Naval Academy in 1854 at age 17. He was just beginning his naval career at the time of the Civil War, during which he participated in the capture of New Orleans while serving as a lieutenant aboard USS Mississippi.

When Commodore Dewey was assigned to the Asiatic squadron in January 1898, he was already 60 years old and looking forward to retirement.

On Friday, April 22, Dewey’s fleet was riding at anchor in the British port of Hong Kong. Navy Secretary Long cabled the commodore that the United States had begun a blockade of Cuban ports, but that war had not yet been officially announced.

Later that afternoon, the cruiser Baltimore (dispatched by Roosevelt) arrived from Honolulu, loaded with powder and ammunition for Dewey’s flotilla.

On April 24, because of British neutrality regulations, the American squadron was ordered to leave Hong Kong. While Dewey’s ships steamed out from the British port, military bands on English vessels played The Star-Spangled Banner, and their crews cheered the American sailors.

Commodore Dewey anchored his fleet about 30 miles down the Chinese coast, at Mirs Bay, and waited for further instructions.

During the weeks that Dewey was in Hong Kong, his days were spent in consultation with the various ship captains under his command. All possibilities and eventualities of conflict with the enemy were discussed. He called upon his men to express their opinions freely, and all ideas were given careful consideration.

While the American squadron was anchored at Hong Kong, Spanish agents played a cat-and-mouse game with Dewey. The Spaniards continually spread rumors concerning the mining of channels surrounding the island of Corregidor and portions of Manila Bay.

Because of all the misinformation he was receiving, Dewey established his own spy network. He assigned his aide, Ensign F.B. Upham, to pose as a civilian interested in the sea and ships. Upham would interview crews attached to vessels arriving from Manila.

Additional important data was obtained from an American businessman, living in Hong Kong, who made frequent trips to the Philippines and reported his observations to the commodore.

Surprisingly, actual U.S. Naval Intelligence was so lacking that Dewey was forced to buy charts of the Philippine Islands at a Hong Kong store.

After all facts were in and sorted out, the final picture was not very comforting. Approximately 20 Spanish naval vessels were in the Manila area. Most, however, were gunboats and small torpedo craft. The largest ships were two cruisers, Reina Cristina and Castilla.

It was the Spanish coastal defenses that worried Dewey the most. The island of Corregidor divided the entrance of Manila Bay into two channels. The north passage, between Corregidor and the Bataan peninsula, was called Boca Chica and was only two miles wide. The southern channel, Boca Grande, was five miles in width. Strong fortifications, mounting high-power Krupp guns, had been constructed on the island and mainland.

Both channels had been mined by the Spanish, with the narrow passage the shallower of the two and potentially more dangerous. Dewey was of the opinion that mining the deep channel at Boca Grande would be a much more difficult undertaking, and he doubted the Spanish could accomplish the feat successfully.

Other information relayed to the American fleet reported heavily armed fortresses at Cavite and at Manila proper. Another disturbing problem confronting Dewey was the knowledge that no reinforcements, nor assistance of any kind, had been dispatched by Navy Secretary Long to support the squadron.

There was also the realization that if the battle were indecisive and the American fleet were forced to retire from the action with any ships needing repairs, there was no place to go. Neutrality laws were against the Americans in all Asian ports–and the United States was 8,000 miles away.

By going to Manila, Dewey was burning all his bridges behind him. He had to be victorious. If the mission failed, next would come defeat, followed by hopeless retreat.

While various battle plans were being formulated, crew members of the American flotilla were not taking life easy. The sailors were trained continually in target practice, fire drills and all possible conditions of actual combat.

On Tuesday, April 26, Dewey was notified that war had begun and received his sailing orders: War has commenced between the United States and Spain. Proceed at once to the Philippine Islands, and initiate operations against the Spanish fleet. You must capture vessels or destroy. Use utmost endeavors.

A reporter for the New York Journal, John Barrett, witnessed the American ships leaving the Chinese coast. Barrett wrote: When Dewey’s squadron sailed out from Mirs Bay, it reminded me of thoroughbred race horses, trained to the minute by an expert, who not only knew his animals, but also his competition, and the conditions of the race.

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