Of all the incidents, thus far, of the present war, the almost incredible bravery of Lieutenant Hobson and his seven companions in their heroic scuttling of the Merrimac in the narrow entrance to Santiago Harbor, is without a parallel. Indeed, in point of sheer bravery and heroism, it is justly entitled to, and doubtless will, take its place among the greatest of military deeds of valor.
One cannot, from any standpoint, help admiring deeds of self-sacrifice in a good cause, and these brave men were undoubtedly moved by an unselfish and patriotic desire to render their country a great service, which, as the result shows, they most successfully did. From the standpoint of patriotism, also, the eagerness with which many hundreds of other brave men begged in vain to participate in the hazardous undertaking, is scarcely less gratifying than the actual heroism of those who were chosen. To the best belief of all there was little hope of escape for any of them. Almost certain death—that death which mortal sense would declare to be the end of life—stared in the face all who made the venture; but hundreds were ready to face the issue and make the sacrifice. Yet, as the sequel proved, those who bad the opportunity to show their willingness were not called upon to surrender their lives for their country; most fortunately and, from the common view of the miraculous, most miraculously, their lives were preserved. Whether they knew it or not, they had with them a "life-preserver" more potent than any of material construction.
While, like the brigade at Balaklava—the "noble six hundred"—this noble seven, seemingly leaped into the jaws of death, unlike the former, they escaped unhurt, and stand before the world, not as having needlessly or recklessly plunged into certain slaughter, but as willing to have been slaughtered, if need were, to accomplish a feat, the successful issue of which would save many lives and much destruction of property.
