Summary

Portrait of Frank Norris Frank Norris The Surrender of Santiago

I went across the Plaza and stood on the terrace in front of the main doors of the Cathedral. Directly opposite was the Governor's Palace, the naked flagstaff on the roof over the door standing out lean and stark against the background of green hills.
The sidewalks and streets outside the lines of soldiers were crowded with an even mixture of civilians and disarmed Spanish soldiers. The Spanish Club on the left was suddenly closed, but the balconies of the San Carlos—the Cuban Club—were filled with black-bearded, voluble gentlemen in white ducks and straw hats.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Frank Norris Frank Norris The Surrender of Santiago

The escort watched. Back along the Spanish and the American trenches thousands of men stood in line and watched; Santiago watched, and Washington, Spain and the United States, the two hemispheres, the Old World and the New, paused on that moment, watching. A sentence or two was spoken in low tones and the Generals replaced their hats and shook hands smilingly.
Instantly a great creaking of saddles took place as the men eased their positions, and conversation began again.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Frank Norris Frank Norris The Surrender of Santiago

Even though not a soldier, it was impossible not to know their feeling, glorying, arrogant, the fine, brutal arrogance of the Anglo-Saxon, and we rode on there at a gallop through the crowded streets of the fallen city, heads high, sabres clattering, a thousand iron hoofs beating out a long roll—triumphant, arrogant conquerors.
Source: Gutenberg

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