Spanish Prisoners of War (from Literature and Life) , livre ebook

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11 pages

English

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pubOne.info present you this new edition. CERTAIN summers ago our cruisers, the St. Louis and the Harvard, arrived at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, with sixteen or seventeen hundred Spanish prisoners from Santiago de Cuba. They were partly soldiers of the land forces picked up by our troops in the fights before the city, but by far the greater part were sailors and marines from Cervera's ill-fated fleet. I have not much stomach for war, but the poetry of the fact I have stated made a very potent appeal to me on my literary side, and I did not hold out against it longer than to let the St. Louis get away with Cervera to Annapolis, when only her less dignified captives remained with those of the Harvard to feed either the vainglory or the pensive curiosity of the spectator. Then I went over from our summer colony to Kittery Point, and got a boat, and sailed out to have a look at these subordinate enemies in the first hours of their imprisonment.

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	06 novembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819948056
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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LITERATURE AND LIFE
CERTAIN summers ago our cruisers, the St.Louis and the Harvard , arrived at Portsmouth, NewHampshire, with sixteen or seventeen hundred Spanish prisoners fromSantiago de Cuba. They were partly soldiers of the land forcespicked up by our troops in the fights before the city, but by farthe greater part were sailors and marines from Cervera’s ill-fatedfleet. I have not much stomach for war, but the poetry of the factI have stated made a very potent appeal to me on my literary side,and I did not hold out against it longer than to let the St.Louis get away with Cervera to Annapolis, when only her lessdignified captives remained with those of the Harvard tofeed either the vainglory or the pensive curiosity of thespectator. Then I went over from our summer colony to KitteryPoint, and got a boat, and sailed out to have a look at thesesubordinate enemies in the first hours of their imprisonment.
I.
It was an afternoon of the brilliancy known only toan afternoon of the American summer, and the water of the swiftPiscataqua River glittered in the sun with a really incomparablebrilliancy. But nothing could light up the great monster of a ship,painted the dismal lead-color which our White Squadrons put on withthe outbreak of the war, and she lay sullen in the stream with alook of ponderous repose, to which the activities of thecoaling-barges at her side, and of the sailors washing her decks,seemed quite unrelated. A long gun forward and a long gun aftthreatened the fleet of launches, tugs, dories, and cat-boats whichfluttered about her, but the Harvard looked tired and bored,and seemed as if asleep. She had, in fact, finished her mission.The captives whom death had released had been carried out and sunkin the sea; those who survived to a further imprisonment had allbeen taken to the pretty island a mile farther up in the river,where the tide rushes back and forth through the Narrows like atorrent. Its defiant rapidity has won it there the graphic name ofPull-and-be-Damned; and we could only hope to reach the island by aseries of skilful tacks, which should humor both the wind and thetide, both dead against us. Our boatman, one of those shore NewEnglanders who are born with a knowledge of sailing, was easilymaster of the art of this, but it took time, and gave me more thanthe leisure I wanted for trying to see the shore with the strangeeyes of the captives who had just looked upon it.