Never before in the history of the United States navy had there been so terrible a disaster as the sinking of the _Maine_ by a frightful and deadly explosion in the harbor of Havana, Cuba, on February 15, 1898, and never was there greater grief and indignation in the United States than when the story was told. Do you know what followed this dreadful disaster? But of course you do, for it seems almost yesterday that the _Maine_ went down with her slaughtered crew. Everybody said that the Spaniards had done this terrible deed and Spain should pay for it. We all said so and thought so, you and I and all true Americans. Before the loss of the _Maine_ many people thought we ought to go to war with Spain, and put an end to the cruelty with which the Cubans were treated. After her loss there were not many who thought we ought not to. Our people were in a fury. They wanted war, and were eager to have it. The heads of the government at Washington felt the same way. Many millions of dollars were voted by Congress, and much of this was spent in buying ships and hiring and repairing ships, and much more of it in getting the army ready for war. For Congress was as full of war-feeling as the people. President McKinley would have liked to have peace, but he could no more hold back the people and Congress than a man with an ox-chain could hold back a locomotive. So it was that, two months after the _Maine_ sank in the mud of Havana harbor, like a great coffin filled with the dead, war was declared against Spain. Now, I wish to tell you how the loss of the _Maine_ was avenged. I am not going to tell you here all about what our navy did in the war. There are some good stories to tell about that. But just here we have to think about the _Maine_ and her murdered men, and have to tell about how one of her officers paid Spain back for the dreadful deed. As soon as the telegraph brought word to the fleet at Key West that "War is declared," the great ships lifted their anchors and sped away, bound for Cuba, not many miles to the south. And about a month afterward this great fleet of battleships, and monitors, and cruisers, and gunboats were in front of the harbor of Santiago, holding fast there Admiral Cervera and his men, who were in Santiago harbor with the finest warships owned by Spain. There were in the American fleet big ships and little ships, strong ships and weak ships; and one of the smallest of them all was the little _Gloucester_. This had once been a pleasure yacht, used only for sport. It was now a gunboat ready for war. It had only a few small guns, but these were of the "rapid-fire" kind, which could pour out iron balls almost as fast as hailstones come from the sky in a storm. And in command of the _Gloucester_ was Lieutenant Wainwright, who had been night officer of the _Maine_ when that ill-fated ship was blown up by a Spanish mine. The gallant lieutenant was there to avenge his lost ship.