Secret 1898

By Alejandro Ruiz

The true chronology of the strange, violent and dangerous incidents in which a young woman is involved, leader of an armed revolutionary group and an American spy, facing the terrible and bloody underground group the Componte. The ideological passion and impossible love, which moves them to collect key information that convinces secret military strategy changes to General Miles, thereby altering the course of the Spanish-American War and the history of the Caribbean.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Aug 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781387163083

Book preview

Secret 1898

Secret 1898

Copyright © 2009 by Alejandro Ruiz

Second Revised Edition: 2016

Rights Reserved under the Act.

ISBN: 978-1-387-16308-3

ERA Solutions Publisher

San Juan, Puerto Rico

Author's warning

I do not intend to portray those historic events that were left with endless questions. Nor do I dig in the remotest corners of history plaintive response to what I was clear.

I prefer to let my imagination roam the infinite time line and stop at the historic moments that still scream for the unknowns that not collected and were left behind and hidden in the oral tradition.

The discussion of the historical narrative of the years of '98, their interpretations, their collection and data correction, with great deference, I leave it to historians and researchers cold scalpel.

Therefore, I collect the historical moment and imagine my intuition led to suppose could have happened and not documented:

It is more pleasing to the imagination!

With respect to you,

Alejandro

Dedication

To all the men of the mountain of this small continent

called Borikén...

To all the fishermen and workers of the port of the Little Paris...

To all who raised their voice and faced the terrible guards

of the Componte...

To all those who in one way or another suffered

persecution and torture for defending their people,

their land and their rights...

To all those heroes of the end of the century

who gave their lives as a gesture...

and longing for justice and freedom...

To all of them, the true protagonists of occult history,

of the oral tradition...

This recognition.

Foreword

The military clash between U.S. and Spain for 1898 left many events that pose many questions. The time was troubled and nuanced large changes. Approaching the turn of the century, ideological trends, inventions, findings, the changing political spin order accompanied throughout the world, this movement accompanied throughout the world, and this movement of ideas and events presage a dramatic change in the Caribbean.

It were known that the unstable political condition Spain in the late 1900's weak points rose in relation to the American territories. On the other hand, the U.S. was seeing as the young, strong and resourceful, nation both military and economic.

The confusing incident triggered accelerated Maine expected by all: United States faced Spain for an event that still leaves ties without coherent historical connection.

Cuba and Puerto Rico were strategic points large military and commercial value in Spain. The Corona is face with what internal changes. Many have attributed the sense of complacency, and low attention to these two important Antilles that eventually became the field of the Hispano-American War. Resulted from the tragic event that was expected, United States militarily confronting Spain, running of this historic moment a full list of questionable decisions, inconsistent handling and futile strategies in the military field.

The facts and highlight a confrontation in Cuba some historians conclude shock could have better results through the media diplomats and not via the resource war.

In Puerto Rico, there were other events. El Grito de Yara was echoed in the Grito de Lares. Arise the Componte nefarious groups like a wall threatening and abuse of the ideas of generation of the new Puerto Ricans thinkers.

The U.S. spy incident in Arroyo the strange collection of data, the bewildering and rapid change in military strategy, fleet U.S. Navy in the Caribbean, the stay of General Miles off the coast of the island and the suspicious of the active presence of young followers of the secret movement of La Torre del Viejo doubts remain historical gaps.

A Conflict Encounter

The full moon looked splendid. Only the continuous passing of the clouds interrupted his intention to illuminate the coast of the docks of the Port of Ponce. Each movement of the waves, when they hit the boats, reflected small particles of their light. The port area was congested with ships and freighters arriving from distant lands to deliver their merchandise.

The thunderous explosion in one of the warehouses of the Captaincy of Ports interrupts the incessant crossing of seafarers, transshipment workers and the wandering of people who came to walk the streets of the maritime area. The flashing glow of an explosion illuminates the place for seconds. From the backyard of one of the warehouses, they are ejects from the air, pieces of barrels and   wooden drawers, creating chaos of confusion.

All run to hide. Now it becomes chaos of frightened people, running in all directions. The crowd of people shouting, crossing from one side to another interrupted the calm of seconds behind.

A young woman and her two friends strolling quietly along the dock corridors were surprised by the unexpected run of sailors and   workers.

–What was that? What is going on?

–Where does that noise come from?

–That explosion was in the warehouses of the Captaincy!

–Look... over there! –The young woman responds.

Immediately they hear the sound of shots, accompanied by the shout of the civil guard. They were chasing two men, firing at them. Again, there are several explosions that rumble in the neighboring streets near the trio of young people, who are confused by the repetition of the outbursts.

–Run, run into the casks! Quick! –The young woman orders her friends, who react scared to see some people running towards them.

Men and women in their long, heavy suits sought to evade the shooting. The carriages, both freight and transport, joined the confused situation. At one point the quiet panorama of the port activity, was disturbed.

The shouting of the men of the civil guard ordering the halt is heard closer, threatening. The two men come running up to the young men, who hide behind a stock of barrels. Their faces reflect fear and fear, desperately seeking escape from the guard. In a brief moment, the two men are a few meters away. Suddenly, one of them stops and with a gun in hand, responds the fire, not without first fixing the eyes on the three young men. He is a boy in the twenties. Of tanned complexion, of Caribbean appearance and gentle face, does not suggest to be a person of hostile intentions. They notice that he want desperately to run and leave that place.

The tension and the courage of his eyes transforms when he sees them, but his expression changes when he meets those of the young woman. That unexpected moment provoked something strange. For seconds the encounter paralyzed him, as if a magnetic force had touched him. Like a spontaneous and furtive gesture, he makes a    polite greeting, then smiles. That way he continues his rapid escape, again shooting the Civil Guard.

The two young men are rigid at the surprise and unexpected encounter. They do not react immediately until the young woman yells at them.

–Push... push the barrels! Help me, let's go! –She orders to them, directing to do the same.

With force, the three demolish the barrels, causing them to roll towards the street where they approach the subjects of the Civil Guard. The young woman orders them again.

–Run! Run! –And, holding the front of his bulky dress starts the race.

Followed by the frightened young men who, surprisingly, are caught inside an unknown persecution, they notice that the men of the civil guard watched them push the barrels.

This makes them run harder, they had discovered them and now, they were also targets of those officers who fired blindly. Without realizing it, they became accomplices of that incident, perhaps of the cause of the violent explosion.

They have to escape. If caught, they will be easy prey to the torture methods of the unscrupulous and clandestine Componte, the military arm of the Civil Guard. The last seconds had been strange, with no logical explanation to indicate the reason for the impulse to become part of the incident. They had to leave immediately, as did the two men.

Some of the small streets of the harbor were illuminated, but others remained in total darkness. They run and in a few minutes they reach a corner, where in the dim light of a lantern, a subject beckons to them, indicating with their hand to run to the dark street. It was the entrance to one of the warehouses. Without asking for explanations and without questions, the first reaction of the frightened young men was to run in the direction indicated by the stranger. In an instant, these are in the place.

There, hidden in the gloom, they anxiously await that they will not find them, otherwise they would be lost, condemned to the worst, surely to a soon and cruel death. In a moment, they hear the vociferous guards, uttering curses and orders. In a few seconds, they see them yell at the subject and, surprisingly, he points to them with the hand to other way.

–Over there... over there! –He points out, pointing them the other way. The subjects run annoying and angry, while shouting obscenities.

The young woman and the frightened young people are out of breath at the arrival of the guards, but are more surprised to see that stranger pointing in another direction, saving them from a certain final conviction. Thus, with a smile and a greeting, the stranger withdraws quickly, leaving them surprised and full of questions.

Perplexed by so many incidents in a few minutes, the trio leaves their dark hiding place. With caution, the girl comes forward, looking around looking for the figure of the mysterious sailor who saved them from the guard.

–Where did he go? –One of the young men asks.

–Who was that man?

–Do you know him?

–No... I have no idea who he is, but he helped us...

–Would it be a British sailor?

–Maybe, maybe!

–I thought it was American...

–María... Why did the man who fled looked at you so steadily?

–Yes, he looked straight at you!

–Do you know who it is? –The boys ask her friend, who is still pensive, in silence.

–Yes, he looked straight at you! Do you know who it is? –The boys ask her friend, who is still pensive, in silence.

–Hey, hey, you're speechless! You are listening? –Coming out of his momentary silence, provoked by that accumulation of rapid and strange incidents, reacts.

–Ah... yes, yes! What did they ask me? –She asks them, it is stunned and confused.

–Nothing... we have not asked you anything! –They look at each other smiling, shaking their heads, as if they gently deny and sarcastic the rare reaction of her friend.

She smiles at them and takes the arm of both; they withdraw quickly from the dark alley. That encounter had been strange, unpredictable, with many unexpected questions. Something did not fit in their youthful experiences.

Days before... May 12, 1898

The breeze came soft, serene. He was caressing warmly the scarf of that young keeper who waited anxiously, caused by sleep and fatigue, the light of day. He fought at night awake, alert and occasionally surveying the perfect profile of the northern horizon.

It was morning. Only the first faint multi-colored reflections   appeared on the edge of the distant and wide sea. The young gunner in charge of night surveillance at the top of the lighthouse, made his usual round, mechanical and rhythmic. He returned on the few steps, which indicated that the perimeter of the tower was covered. Their mission was to keep the light that guided sailors in the dark to shore.

The hours had passed and his turn was nearing completion. He had planned what he would do as soon as he left that tower, which intermittently illuminated the San Felipe del Morro Castle area. It was the military fortress most equipped and strengthened by the Spanish militia, the most important defense point of the city of San Juan Bautista of Puerto Rico.

He stopped walking, his sight a little drowsy by the night, he saw some imperceptible silhouettes that seemed to appear on the horizon. There was no question; he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, and something drawn in the distance.

The figures were taking shape and defining more accurately. That mixture of light and moving shadows was familiar to him, there was no doubt, and they were boats. He could recognize them, the forms were organized and they made sense. It was true. He was not mistaken. They suggested a group of ships, perhaps of the Spanish navy. He ran downstairs, desperately, to warn his companions of nocturnal vigil.

He informed his sergeant, running in turn, reached the telegraph operator, who at that moment was sleeping deeply. Followed by the officer and the telegraph operator, they ran up the stairs to reach the upper tower area.

With naive joy, the young keeper tells his sergeant.

–It is a Spanish fleet ... No, Sergeant? –The soldier smiles and answers.

–Sure, man! That is one of our teams!

–It seems to me that the big ship, the battleship, is the Pelayo – the telegrapher says.

–Oh, no, that is the Carlos V, no doubt, by the chimneys! –Says the keeper.

–I think the Vizcaya and the Oquendo approaches –He adds serenely to the brief conversation.

Then the sergeant comes down and orders a soldier to warn Captain Iriarte, governor of the military fort and inform him that the Spanish fleet is approaching. The fleet of silhouettes on the line of the horizon, this time more clearly defined, burst rapidly towards the coast, heading inland direction.

Captain Iriarte joins the group, noticing, no longer diffuse shadows between the mist, but distinguishable battleships, of size and appreciable tonnage.

In front, commanding the fleet is approaching a ship of smaller scale, its movement, the foamy displacement of the water reflected it. Behind him were three more, larger boats.

The astonishment and bewilderment seized the captain, who immediately recognized that these were not ships of the Spanish navy, but military ships of the American navy. It was the Sampson's fleet and the strangest thing, they had no lights. All of them were approaching dark, without signals, in shadows.

–See Captain Rivero, hurry, Yankee ships are approaching! –Exclaimed Iriarte. As he saw that the group did not react immediately, he himself gave the alert voice to one of the guards, coming down from the tower to give notice and order the general's touch.

The bewilderment invaded them all momentarily. Half asleep, at the sound of the trumpet, gunners and soldiers all ran to their assigned places. It was not a drill, it was not a simple exercise, they never did it, and it was not the custom.

A great battleship had advanced and this is the one who commanded the group of ships, which had already identified themselves as warships of the American navy. That military presence in such a suspicious action activates the alert touch to the militia of the Spanish fortress.

II

Five and seventeen in the morning marked the watch of Captain Rivero. The battleship that ran the fleet this time was the Iowa. The move of sparkling water from the bow indicated its great size and speed. It was definitely a huge warship that, threatening, without lights, was advancing towards land.

The dim clarity that was diluted between the morning mists allowed to seeing the shades of light of the distant horizon, but not so, the dark forms of the ships.

Suddenly, the leading ship caught sight of the silent flashes, which turned off the waves over the great fortress. Those reflexes marked seconds between each other, several seconds more and over the heads of the military of the tower, the gunners who ran to their posts, they heard the whistles that ended with the explosive noise of falling stones, bricks and lumber.

They were in full military attack to the Morro. The war had exploded. The United States are facing Spain, in the land of San Juan, Puerto Rico.

The artillerymen began to locate in their respective positions. The main defensive commands of San Juan, integrated the polygon of fronts supported by the Castle of San Felipe del Morro, by the north, by the northeast, the one of San Cristóbal. The San Felipe covered the defense of the entire northern front, covering the area until reaching Punta Salinas, crossing in turn with high batteries and San Carlos to the outside, guarding the full defense of the bay and the entire land front.

The defense of the latter, were the bastions of Santa Catalina, San Justo and Santiago. The Spanish military command knew that this zone was a fragile point, that at some moment had to be reinforced, since at the moment of the beginning of the war its walls were demolished, which exposed the three facilities.

For the this was troubling, but the ruling leadership relied on their men, courage, on his honor and valor acquired through a high consciousness of duty, to know that at the moment of truth, their troops would confront the invading enemy until his last force give him, his heart of soldier.

They had to defend their name, their military stronghold, their honor, the small land that saw them born. The gallantry, infused in their training, which inspired them to know themselves as representatives of the crown, the throne of the mother country, the conquering Spain.

The message was transmitted to all flanks, telegraphers, waking from their sleeping rest, began to communicate, to issue orders, to receive data, to give instructions. The military information network was set up.

Each command center, from each strategic center, began to form the entire strategy programmed for night attack by sea. This gave them an accurate reaction for the activation of each soldier, each group of gunners.

The experience of previous battles of the High Command confirmed a successful alert movement and provided all positions to respond to any external aggression.

The presence of high-tonnage vapors from the US Navy in the area of the blockade to the Spanish squadron had created suspicion in the military of the island. The political conditions and the cold diplomacy between the two nations were known to the Spanish command. For this reason, in some ways, the attack on the walled coast was   expected.

This group of ships that marked the military line of the blockade was of agile and fast march. They were vapors of three chimneys. The Saint Paul, headed by the experienced Sigsbee, the Saint Louis, led by Captain Goodrich and the Yale ship, helmed by the famous Captain Wise, they prowled the coast, recognizing areas access, ports and   inlets. As they approached the coast occasionally, without flagging, Captain Macías ordered to be warned, to gun them as soon as they were within range of the shot.

On May 10, 1898, in the morning, one of these high-artillery cruisers, the Yale, headed bow toward the west. Captain Rivero, an officer of the High Command, spotted this ship and alerted General Macias to allow him to shoot. The intention was to alert the American ship that if it continued its march, would be attacked.

The discussion between the military took time, they tuned aim, aimed at maximum reach, but Captain Wise spotted the movement of the guns and took advantage to retire offshore. Anyway, they fired, causing astonishment in the whole city, interrupting the morning silence with that unexpected rumble.

That incident of days ago alerted the military command of the city of San Juan. The gunners, the soldiers and all the logistic and military machinery, realized that this had marked the beginning of the possible and already expected military intervention to the island.

The reality was that at that time the first attack was declared on the San Juan coast. The American ships advanced ready to attack. The silent coast was the scene of war. The surf of the horizon could distinguish the white foam at the sight of the first shades of light. The ships moved in studied route, bow towards the coastal zone.

The inner movement of each ship responded to a deft mentality in the militia, experienced in the battle from sea to land. The cannons of the advanced of the battleships thundered toward the coast. The settings of the canyons were continuous given the constant movement of the boats. The activities of the militias of the US military were logically planned. Each sailor had his coordinated function responded to a correct strategy.

The attack was synchronized. The wall receives the attacks of the gunboat of open sea, like challenging the attacker in attitude of gallant answer typical of the Spanish command.

American ships already knew in advance the extent of Spanish artillery. The command post of the captains was directed intelligently, thoughtfully, calmly. The organized flow of guidelines, receipt of   data, all within the military frame of some war machine scholars, was effective.

The Spanish captains continued giving orders to their respective positions of combat. The flag waved over the bastion of the hill. The group of drum chiefs was in their respective positions giving orders, in response to the unexpected American attack.

The bastion of San Cristóbal began the first canyon gunshot, then another and then another. Defense batteries responded to the attack at five-twenty-four in the morning. The Fortress El Morro answered one after another. Iriarte replied to join the Spanish response.

The Indiana, the New York, the monitors and other ships attacked continuously, with different calibers, in a centered direction to the walled coast. The guns vomited smoke after smoke, forming the smoke that hid the fleet. There was only the glow emanating from each gunboat and the powerful and intimidating rumble of his shots.

The walls of the fort trembled before the impact of the projectiles of sea on one side and on the other, before the constant sonar of the defenses. The manner in which his navy was moving and directs each American vessel, was an example of an expert maritime agility and an unequaled military skill. The Spanish command knew it; they saw it on the horizon.

The mastery with which they handle each position of canyons was masterly, as demonstrated by the result of each shot, they hit the target. The static, strong and arrogant wall of the Castillo del Morro Was indifferent and haughty before the impact of each projectile was resistant, for that had been built to withstand the continuous clash of enemy gunfire.

The movement of both sides was a reflection of the beginning of a conflict that was just beginning and that no one knew the consequences. The Americans knew they had the best armaments, the most modern, and the best men.

The Spanish military understood the preparation and behavior of the attacking navy. For them, having the disadvantage of war machines frightened them, but encouraged them to have a brave army, ready to give their life and the best of them for honor and for Spain.

The battle of sea and earth in the hours of dawn, when the first traces of light were barely visible on the horizon, had begun and strengthened with those soldiers who answered fire with fire.

The military gallantry and the force-thrust of both commands reflected the fierceness of their commanding officers. Everyone reacted as if it were the game of war, the game of his life.

They had begun the frontal clash between the powerful American navy, young and modern, full of philosophical liberating ideas and the emblematic navy of the Spanish navy, already decadent in its beginnings, absent from modernity and lacking the enthusiasm of the new century.

III

The temperature was pleasant, to be in the morning, in the early spring, the breeze was stimulant since regularly by that time, the weather was unstable.

The city of Washington at that time has a large movement of people. Many took the opportunity to simply admire the classical monuments, the historical places, whose presence evoked a short but intense trajectory of struggle and progress of a nation that was in the world spectrum, as a growing in values and progress or, simply take a walk.

Meanwhile, its streets were congested by the anonymous passer-by, whose haste knew the avenues, their traffic and the need to avoid the dense urban slowness. It was normal the quick walk, it was normal the haste. They were a reflection of a lifestyle near the beginning of a modern new century.

The collective thought of the majestic American capital was inspired by the constant flow of new ideas, of the great changes in political life, of inventions, of the constant movements of industrial growth. Changes that were reflected in the economic influence at the world level.

The industrialized nations began to direct their efforts towards the commerce, towards the conquest of the market and exchange with the countries of greater resources of raw material. The old world lost its control over the resurgent lands. The flourishing nation of the north was one of great victories, of great scope and with a clear vision of what represented the southern continent, its countries, and its      resources. 

The Caribbean was the immediate neighbor of that vast continent, virgin of the European progress, virgin of the abating impulse of the industrialization. The imposing republic of the new world recognized this fact. Its leaders longed to bring the style of   democracy and modernism to that region.

The Antilles was the outbreak of the hottest ideological antagonism of the Spanish empire. The influence of prevailing thought in the nuclei of French intellectuals, the explosive wave of German philosophers of that time, and the opposition group of Spanish poets, weakened the political bond that united the mother country with the colonies and territories of the Caribbean archipelago. The internal conflicts of the islands promoted this clash of influences.

The atmosphere in the area was very tense. Many of the Caribbean people with good economic resources, a social class that emerged in a hurry, aware of the abrupt changes in the world, sent their first-born to instruct the most outstanding centers of study and intellectual prestige of the old continent.

This weakened the sentiment towards the mother country and awakened a new feel of the islands. The political and military machinery of the great metropolis of the north was aware of these changes. They understood what that represented in the area of the new America and deserved to focus the view with due attention to the troubled region.

The main leaders, advisers of the presidential nucleus McKinley, directed their new strategies to the movement of the modern military trimming towards the south, towards the unstable Caribbean. There was much to discuss about the policy of the West Indies and the nation of young thinking. They could not let the islands convulse     politically. They were small nations that looked to the north and asked to enter the next century