Honorable mention, p.27
Honorable Mention, page 27
The chief staff officer was Admiral Santiago, a contra-almirante or rear admiral, and assistant commander to Rodríguez. The earliness of the hour only increased his wariness at the very unusual request from a Yankee naval officer, and a mere lieutenant at that. He spoke in good English to Wake.
“You say, Captain, that you have a personal message for Vice-Admiral Rodríguez, and that he knows you? By your insignia I see that you are merely a lieutenant. In our navy, admirals do not associate with lieutenants.”
“The admiral knows me from another urgent situation here in Havana two years ago. He will see me if he knows I have requested it.”
“I know nothing of the event you speak of, Captain.”
“It had to do with Cuban insurgents and their foreign sympathizers. I assisted the admiral with eliminating a festering problem here in the city.”
The Spanish officer was visibly impressed by that description of the event, which had involved Wake getting Admiral Rodríguez to round up John Saunders and the Confederate blockade-running organizations as sympathizers with the Cuban rebels that plagued the island. Wake had left Havana secure in the knowledge that one of the most successful of the enemy blockade runners was neutralized, only to find out several months later that the wily Saunders had somehow emerged from the dungeon of Morro Fortress and departed Cuba, apparently without official approval. It was a lesson learned for Wake in the ways of the Caribbean. A lesson he hoped to capitalize on now.
“Time is of the essence, sir. My admiral is in communication with Washington and expects an answer from me. Great events are in motion, sir.”
The officer shouted a fast command to his aide out in the hallway, then turned to Wake. “For your sake, Captain Wake, I hope that Admiral Rodríguez is as fond of this memory of you as you say. He just got into the city from a rail trip late last night and will not be amused by an unneeded intrusion into his rest. My aide is notifying him now.”
Curtis and de Alba were staring at Wake, clearly in awe of his intrepidity in gaining access to the highest naval officer of the Spanish Empire in the Western Hemisphere. Wake was nervous and knew that the admiral was not his final destination. He also knew that Payne’s demeanor indicated that he might move quickly. His words to the chief of the staff were accurate—time was of the essence.
Suddenly Wake’s pensive thoughts were interrupted by a booming voice. No knowledge of Spanish was needed to understand that a junior officer was announcing the entrance of the senior naval officer of the empire in the New World. De Alba translated with all the fervor of the original rendition.
“His Excellency Vice Admiral Don Roi de Rodríguez y Costabela, Admiral of the Oceans of Her Most Catholic Majesty’s Empire in the Americas, Commander-in-Chief of all Naval Forces in the Ever Faithful Isles of the Caribbean Sea, Knight of the Order of Cadiz, Defender of Spain, and Faithful Servant of the One True Church of Our Savior!”
Dressed in a red satin robe, the subject of this magnificent introduction did not match the rhetoric. Admiral Rodríguez was an average and pleasant-looking man who had the wrinkles and tan of a seaman, but the expanding torso of an aficionado of fine food and drink. He waved the junior officer away and spoke quickly to his number two in Spanish.
“My English is not sufficient. You will translate. Dismiss all others in the room.”
When de Alba conveyed this to his captain, Wake told him to take Curtis out in to the hall. Only Rodríguez, Santiago, and Wake remained. Rodríguez shook Wake’s hand and waved for all of them to sit.
“Captain Wake, congratulations on your promotion from master to lieutenant. Also from sail to steam, I understand. Welcome back to Cuba. I remember you well. And of course, your enemy, Saunders. He is still out there somewhere, is he not?”
“Yes, Admiral, I believe that he is. Thank you very much for seeing me like this. I know of the inconvenience, but you know I would not be here unless it was truly important. I have an important communication, sir.”
Rodríguez nodded slowly. “Concerning the large iron warship in our harbor, no doubt. The wonder of the naval world has come to us here in Havana.”
“Yes, sir. About the Phoenix. I have to get to the Captain-General of the Antilles, Viceroy Dulce, immediately with an emergency message from my admiral. Washington is waiting.”
Rodríguez would make an excellent card player, Wake thought, for he showed no reaction, just amused tolerance for the interruption of his sleep.
“To pass messages onward you disturb me? Why not go to the palace and rouse them up over there? Why awaken me, young man?”
“Because sailors’ lives are at stake, and you are a sailor, sir. You understand better than anyone here what that ship is capable of doing, and why she must not leave this port. I need you to get me into the palace and in front of the Captain-General. I cannot get there any other way in the time that I have.”
“And your consulate people, they do not have access to the diplomats of the palace?”
“Yes, but not in a timely way. And they also do not understand the naval aspect of this, of what will happen three miles outside of your harbor if that ship leaves.”
Rodríguez showed the first reaction of the meeting. “Yes, she will crush your vessels off the harbor. They are nothing to a ship like her. Your navy will eventually catch her though and then crush her.”
“But sir, in the meantime, hundreds of men will die, and for nothing. The war is over. There is nothing for the Phoenix to fight for.”
“So they sent you here to persuade me? I’m persuaded. It would be folly to have a battle now.”
“Yes, they sent me, but to persuade the Captain-General. You command the naval forces, but not the army. Not Morro. Only the Captain-General commands the garrison and artillery of Morro. Only the Captain-General can order the artillerymen at the fortress to sink a ship to prevent it from leaving.”
“And why would we shed blood? We have no quarrel with those people on that ship. They hate you, not us. If we let them go, no Spanish or Cuban blood will be lost.”
Rodríguez was studying Wake as the comment was translated. Wake knew it was a crucial point. This was not the Spaniard’s problem. He also knew that Admiral Stroud’s message would in effect make it their problem. It was how to make the delivery of that message that was the question in Wake’s mind.
Stroud made a direct threat, almost an ultimatum of war. It was a last resort message, to be given when all else failed. Wake agonized as the Spanish officers looked at him. Was it time yet to use the final resort? But the threat to brand the Captain-General as aiding and abetting piracy was one that had best be made to that man in private at this point—let him have a way out that no one knows. Open knowledge of the message would negate its power.
Wake decided not to tell Rodríguez the contents of the message.
“Admiral Rodríguez, you know me. Obviously, I have the confidence of Admiral Stroud at Key West or I wouldn’t be here. When I say that I have a most secret message from Admiral Stroud to the Captain-General, you know you can take my word of honor. I must see the man right now. Sir, you must get me in to see him. More than even the lives of American sailors is at stake here.”
Rodríguez slapped the arm of his chair and laughed. “You have the fortitude of a matador, Captain Wake. Each time I see you I know that something of momentous importance is about to happen. I think you are a magnet for such things. I also think it will get you killed one day, and I will lament that when I hear of it.
“We will notify the palace we are coming. It will be only the three of us. In matters of secrecy more than two is a gamble, more than three is a surrender ahead of time. We will go now, and I will get you in to the Captain-General’s presence. There I will watch you work your ways with him.
“But I warn you, my young impetuous friend, Captain-General Domingo Dulce did not get to where he is by being a fool. Your message had better be very important to him. Let us go.”
It took half an hour for the entourage to gather up and make its way to the palace, a distance of only a quarter-mile, and then inside to the apartment of the Captain-General of the Antilles. The sun was lightening the sky outside the window as Dulce walked into the room, his manner anything but hospitable. He spoke immediately in a deep voice that intensified his authority. The hostility was clear by the tone even before Santiago translated the words.
“Very well, I am now disturbed and awake and ready to spend five minutes on whatever this trivial matter seems to be about. Explain yourself.”
“Your Excellency, I have a message here from my commander, Rear Admiral Cornelius Stroud, commanding officer of the East Gulf Blockading Squadron of the United States Navy. It is meant for me to deliver to you personally. It is only for your eyes.”
“I will determine whose eyes will see my letters. Now where is this thing from your commander?”
Wake handed over the blue envelope sealed with gold wax and red tape.
Dulce, reading spectacles perched on his nose, ripped the envelope apart without any niceties. Wake saw that it was in Spanish and wondered who on Stroud’s staff had translated it. Dulce read it slowly, frowning more and more as he went along. At first, Rodríguez had a pleasant expression, but it too changed as he watched the Captain-General’s face cloud and redden. Dulce looked up at Wake, glaring.
“You know what this says?”
“I have been told the general idea of it, sir.”
“Do you agree with what it says?”
Wake realized that this was the moment of truth. His heart was pounding and he felt almost faint as the blood warmed his face. “It matters not what I or some others think, sir. What matters is that Washington agrees. And also whether Madrid thinks you made the right decision to place the Spanish Empire in a place that is difficult to return from. And for what? To show allegiance to a dead cause that wasn’t even yours to start with, against the will and power of the world’s largest standing army and second largest navy—all within a few days of here. I am but a messenger bearing a grave personal warning to you, sir. No one else has seen it, only you. The consequences are yours, and time is running out this morning. I await your reply.”
Rodríguez and Santiago had set their jaws and were looking at Wake as they would an enemy. Rodríguez glanced at the captain-general.
“Your Excellency. May I be permitted to read the message and offer my opinion?”
“No. It is private, for me as Captain-General and Viceroy, and for the Crown in Madrid.” Dulce turned and stared at Wake. “And the Crown will have this as soon as possible, so they know without a doubt the true feelings of the government of the United States.”
This stunned Rodríguez and he showed it. That a junior American naval officer should rouse them all out of bed and hand the representative of the queen a message that had angered him—then not allow the commander of naval forces to read it—was preposterous. Wondering what could be in the communication from the American admiral, Rodríguez regarded Wake closely as Dulce went on, his narrowed eyes belying the apparent kindness in his words.
“The points made in this communication are well made and have import for the Empire of Spain and Her Most Catholic Majesty. We thank the United States for its demonstration of support and are particularly pleased to be of assistance in ending the needless fraternal bloodshed of our neighbors to the north. It is our hope that we may be successful in our endeavor to stop further violence, and that all parties may work and live together in a future that knows peace.
“Write that down right now in English, Admiral Santiago, for my signature and then give it to the American here.”
Santiago translated the communication into English for Wake. Afterward the Spaniard paused. No one made a sound. Wake knew they were all watching for his response.
“On behalf of the United States of America, I thank your Excellency for your kind words, and can assure you of the never-ending amity and respect of the American people and government for the people of your empire.”
Dulce’s scowl remained in place as he added one more comment. “I will have a messenger send word to you at our admiralty when we have success. Wait there.”
“Thank you again, your Excellency.”
Wake bowed and walked out of the room before anything else was said. He didn’t breathe until he made the hallway and saw Curtis and de Alba.
***
Wake had been waiting in an anteroom of the admiralty, beside himself with worry and periodically checking to see if de Alba had returned from his lookout position a block away at the naval signal tower where he had a clear view of the harbor. Curtis was stationed outside the front of the admiralty building and was to let out a loud whistle if he saw de Alba running their way. De Alba, perched atop the tower with the duty Spanish Navy signalman, was to notify Wake if he saw the Phoenix weigh anchor and start moving. Wake didn’t know what he would do if she started out, but he felt he had to know. His mind worked to try to come up with a plan of action to stop her himself, but he couldn’t think of one.
At 10 o’clock in the morning, while he was pacing in the side portico, Wake heard the whistle from Curtis.
De Alba was out of breath when he came running up the steps, startling the guards until he shouted out that he was an American sailor with a message for his officer. Curtis and Wake reached him at the same time.
“She is moving, Captain! But not out the harbor. She is moving here!”
“Here? Here where?”
“Here to the naval docks. I saw Spanish soldiers and sailors on her too. She is coming alongside the wharf now, over there. . . .”
Ordering him to stay at the building in case a message came, Wake started walking rapidly in the direction de Alba pointed, with Curtis following. They began to trot as astonished onlookers watched the men in the strange uniforms move quickly through the naval station area. Rounding the corner of a warehouse they saw her there, a black iron monolith towering over the wharf with her auxiliary square rig and unusual retracted bowsprit. Workmen were securing her lines as a dark cloud of soot belched out of her stack with a final gasp of her engine as steam was released.
Green-coated Spanish soldiers were positioned with bayoneted rifles every twenty feet on the wharf in front of her, but Wake could see by their relaxed attitudes they were there more for show than for action. A Spanish naval officer resplendent in white was visible above the bulwark on the main deck, talking to four other men in dark blue. Wake walked up to the line of sentries and stopped, examining the ship and men aboard her. A bosun’s whistle called, and all the men on the main deck walked aft and formed in two lines, facing away from the wharf. Wake could distinguish Payne’s voice rise and address the men formed on the deck. Individual words could not be discerned, but the tone was somber. When the speech finished, a man shouted “Salute,” and the bosun’s whistle called again, as a drum rolled, with quick beats that slowly decreased in volume.
Curtis pointed to the afterdeck, where the Confederate naval ensign was descending from the peak of the spanker gaff. When it reached a sailor on the deck the whistle and the drum stopped. Another shouted command and the group disbanded and made their way forward to the waist.
“Your enemies are no longer a threat, Captain.”
Wake turned around and saw Admiral Santiago standing behind him, a stern look on his face as he continued.
“It would appear that the secret message from your admiral, and your manner of delivering it, were successful in persuading the Captain-General to induce the Confederates to parole themselves and their ship.”
“Ah . . . yes, sir. It appears that they have turned her over to you.”
“But Captain Wake, there is more than that. Each member of the crew was paid off his outstanding wages with Spanish gold, the officers receiving double what they normally would receive.”
“That must have been very expensive, Admiral. We are grateful.”
“Oh, I am sure that you will be grateful, Captain Wake. Make sure you remember how grateful you are, in the future. Admiral Rodríguez presents his compliments and regrets that he will not be able to say goodbye to you. He said that you always have provided unique challenges for him when in Havana. He admires your initiative. And he appreciates that he now has a new ship, for a very cheap price.”
“Thank you, sir. I will be leaving as soon as I receive that note from the Captain-General.”
“The note has already been given to your man de Alba, who is being taken out to the American warships offshore as we speak. The Captain-General wanted no time wasted in getting that note to your superiors in Washington. He does not share Admiral Rodríguez’s admiration of you or your initiative. In fact, you seem to have displeased him greatly. He seems to feel that you took pleasure in your message,” Santiago paused, a sneer transforming his face, “and his displeasure with you is highly personal. You are very fortunate you are an American. A carriage is waiting for you at the admiralty building right now and I would suggest that you get in it with haste. You will be immediately driven to your ship at Matanzas, so that there will be no delay in your ability to leave Cuba and return to Key West.”
Santiago spun on his heel and walked away. Curtis pointed to the Phoenix again. A line of men was filing off her, down a gangway that had been set up amidship. Some were laughing but many were quiet. Wake saw Payne come down the gangway at the end of the line. He didn’t look back. Seeing Wake, Payne walked leisurely over to him.
“Well, you seem to have won, Captain Wake.”
“I think we all won today, sir. By the way, when were you going to weigh anchor, anyway?”
Payne sighed. “An hour before high noon today. Had the steam up and was ready to engage the capstan when I got a message from the Captain-General.”
