pitals, and shed-like
buildings flying the flag of the Red Cross, and had no beauty or
picturesqueness whatever; but from the water it seemed to be rather an
interesting and attractive Spanish-American town.

As we entered the upper bay and caught sight of the city, some of our
Red Cross nurses who were standing with Miss Barton in a little group at
the bow of the steamer felt impelled to give expression to their
feelings in some way, and, acting upon a sudden impulse and without
premeditation, they began to sing in unison "Praise God, from whom all
blessings flow." Never before, probably, had the doxology been heard on
the waters of Santiago harbor, and it must have been more welcome music
to the crowds assembling on shore than the thunder of Admiral Sampson's
cannon and the jarring rattle of machine-guns from the advance line of
our army. The doxology was followed by "My country, 'tis of thee," in
which the whole ship's company joined with a thrill of patriotic pride;
and to this music the _State of Texas_ glided swiftly up the harbor to
her anchorage. It was then about half-past five. The daily afternoon
thunder-shower had just passed over the city, and its shadow still lay
heavy on the splendid group of peaks west of the bay; but the
light-green slopes of the grassy mountains to the eastward, as well as
the red roofs and gray church steeples of the city, were bathed in the
warm yellow light of the sinking sun.

Before we had fairly come to anchor, a great crowd had assembled on the
pier nearest to us, and in less than five minutes half a dozen small
boats were alongside, filled with people anxious to know whether we had
brought food and when we would begin to distribute it. Many of them said
that they had not tasted bread in weeks, and all agreed that there was
nothing to eat in the city except rice, and very little of that. We told
them that we should begin discharging the cargo of the _State of Texas_
early on the following morning and should be in a position to feed ten
thousand people within the next twenty-four hours. The normal population
of the city at that time was about fifty thousand, but a large part of
it had fled to Caney and other suburban villages to escape the
bombardment, and more than half the houses were closed and deserted.
General Shafter had entered the city with a single regiment--the Ninth
Infantry--at noon, and had raised the American flag over the palace of
the Spanish governor.

C