WE HAVE A LOVELY SAIL ON THE PALATIAL KNICKERBOCKER AND REACH CUBA
WITHOUT MISHAP.
Our voyage to Cuba on Transport No. 13, unofficially known as the
Knickerbocker, will long linger in our memories. The Knickerbocker
was a lovely ship but her loveliness was of such a nature that it was
seldom referred to without a free and unlimited use of adjectives in
the ratio of more than 16 to 1. After a while it got to be a case of
"Don't speak of her past, boys," and we seldom did. The present was bad
enough and as for her future, all of us had grave doubts concerning it.
There was a story from apparently authentic sources, that before the
government, in a moment of temporary aberation, engaged the services
of the Knickerbocker as a transport, she had been engaged in conveying
Italian emigrants from New York to New Orleans, and her interior
condition when we boarded her gave conformation of the stories.
Many words could be written concerning the Knickerbocker and our
opinion of her, but as a good share of them would form language not
generally used in the best society, it will be perhaps as well to draw
the veil of silence over a good part of it.
Her captain's name was Betts and he was an aged individual who savored
much of the sea and who evidently had been the victim of an early or
late disappointment, either in love or something else, that resulted
in souring him towards himself and everybody else. The name of the
steward of the boat is unknown, but this did not bother the boys much,
their usual designation of him being "thief" or "robber" or any term of
opprobrium that came handy. If he was a poor man when the Knickerbocker
sailed with us from Tampa harbor, there was no reason why he could not
have returned with money enough to start a fair sized bank account, for
he sold us everything there was to sell, and considerable that he had
no right to, and he always charged us Klondike prices for everything.
He was never under suspicion of giving away anything, not even himself.
Before the voyage was half over there came near being a mutiny among
the crew which had discovered, so they said, that the steward was
taking the provisions destined for them and selling them to such of our
boys as had money and had become weary of the luxurious and varied fare
given us by the government. At the same time his extortions had become
so burdensome to our boys that muttered threats against him were heard
and but for some of the cooler heads among the soldiers he might have
been the victim of the vengeance both of the crew and the troops.
There were thirteen staterooms on the boat and into these were crowded
32 officers. The men were "bunked" in the hold, and if there was any
provision for ventilation other than the hatches, no trace was ever
found of it. On the first night out the men slept on the decks and so
were enabled to pass the night in considerable comfort, for if the deck
planks were hard, there was at least some air and the cool sea breeze
made sleeping possible. But on the second night out there came trouble.
The surgeon was fearful that the night dews would have a bad effect
on the men, and had been told so much of the evil effects of sleeping
out in the air in tropical latitudes that he believed it best for the
men to sleep below decks. He pressed his views upon the commanding
officer, and the result was an order to the officer of the day to
allow no men to sleep above decks on that or the succeeding nights of
the voyage.
Naturally, when this order was communicated to the men, there was a
protest. There was a decided difference of opinion between the men and
the surgeon as to the evil results from sleeping on deck, and the men
were inclined to rebel against the order. However, Capt. McDonald of B
company was officer of the day, and no matter what his sympathies were,
orders were orders. So soon after "taps" had sounded he and the guard
made a tour of the boat and the sleepers were informed that they must
retire to the bunks below and complete their slumbers. Then there was
a howl of remonstrance, but it was without avail. The sleepers were
rounded up and hustled below. In protest against this came all sorts
of noise from the sleeping quarters. Songs and yells, and there was
much satire in many of the songs, came up from below. The surgeons were
alluded to as "Horse doctors" and "Salts," and one chorus that came
floating up through the hatches ran something like this:
"What do they give us for stomach ache?"
"Salts."
"What do they give us for a broken leg?"
"Salts."
"What do they give us for rheumatism?"
"Salts."
And so on through a catalogue of all the various diseases incident to
man or animals.
Finally the noise became so great that Capt. McDonald threatened to
have the hatches closed, thus destroying the last faint chance of
obtaining any air. This was met by the threat that if the hatches were
closed bullets would be fired through them, but after a while the noise
quieted down and the men dropped off to sleep. After that night the
order to sleep below decks was pretty well obeyed as the reason for
it begun to be understood by the men and they realized that it was
prompted by a desire for their welfare and not to annoy them.
Not all the boys slept below, however. Emery, Morehouse and Kelly of K
had managed to secrete themselves in one of the ships boats and made it
their sleeping quarters all the time of the voyage. As it was covered
by a tarpaulin they were well protected from the dews or rains, and in
any case they managed to keep the secret so well that they were not
molested.
G company suffered a terrible loss on the day we sailed. Private
Mandeville, the company cook, had managed to cut himself so badly in
the arm with a carving knife, during our stay at Lakeland, that he
had been excused from that duty. On our last day at Port Tampa he had
obtained shore leave and utilized it so well in looking at the wine
when it was red, or something that had the same effect, that he was
in a trance when the orders came to leave. So when the Knickerbocker
sailed, G was one man short, and after the requisite ten days had
elapsed Private Mandeville was put on the rolls as a deserter.
Fortunately for him, it was established on our return that he was
not technically a deserter, it appearing that when he woke up he had
reported himself to an officer in Tampa, and had been assigned to
remain with a party of the 71st New York which had likewise been left
behind.
Of mascots there were many on board. First of all came one James
Sargent of Washington, D. C, a young colored lad better known as
"Snowball." He had come on from Washington with some District of
Columbia troops and finding that they were not going immediately to
Cuba or for some other reason he got on board the Knickerbocker and
attached himself for better or worse to the Second Massachusetts. Any
member of the regiment can answer the query as to whether it was for
better or worse for the Second.
Then there were James and Willie Turner, two young white boys from
Tampa who had an uncontrollable desire to hie themselves over the
seas to Cuba and there end the lives of more or less Spaniards. They
remained with us until the landing on the island and then divorced
themselves from the Second and attached themselves to two regular
regiments. Both stood the campaign in far better shape than the
older men and returned to this country with enlarged views and a
determination to enlist in the regulars as soon as they were of the
requisite age.
G company had two mascots in "Rations" and "Hardtack," dogs of the cur
variety. Rations did not last out the voyage, her career being cut
short by some miscreant who threw her overboard one night, much to the
indignation of the men of the company.
A predominating feature of the trip across was the excellent fare
provided for the enlisted men by a thoughtful government. Life at sea
on a steady diet of canned beef, canned beans and canned tomatoes,
hardtack and ship's water is not conducive to embonpoint or a cheerful
and contented disposition. In the hurry of fitting up the Knickerbocker
as a transport no provision had been made to do any cooking for the
men, even if there had been anything to cook, and there was not even
a place where coffee, of which we had plenty, could be made. Finally
after a couple of days out some vigorous "kicking" resulted in the
company cooks being grudgingly allowed the use of the galley for coffee
making purposes but with the poor water the coffee was hardly equal to
that furnished at Delmonico's or other places where most of us had been
in the habit of eating.
As to the water an entire chapter could not do justice to its
qualities. There were two brands on board, one being Mississippi
river fluid with an equal quantity of mud of a rich brown color in
suspension. After obtaining a cupful of this mixture it was necessary
to allow it to stand for some little time in order that the mud might
settle to the bottom. With all its faults, however, this water when
strained was sweet and drinking it did not cause remorse.
The other water had been obtained in Tampa and it was called water
principally because it was contained in the water tanks. It did not
look much like water and tasted still less like it. But that and the
muddy fluid was all there was to drink and we had to make the best of
it.
One day when the canned beef was even worse than usual and the canned
beans greasier than ever there came to the vision of certain members
of the Springfield companies, who happened to be looking through the
skylight into the steward's pantry, a delicious looking piece of
cold roast beef hanging peacefully from a hook and destined for the
officers' lunch. Constant looking at that well cooked piece of fresh
beef begot longing, then covetousness and desire. By a silent but
unanimous vote it was decided that such a nice piece of beef would be
better appreciated by hungry enlisted men than by the officers who
had been getting more or less of it, at their own expense, during the
voyage and the next thing was the informal appointment of a committee
on ways and means to procure the aforesaid beef. An examination
revealed that the skylight could be opened from the deck and further
that a boathook was handy. These facts ascertained, a watch was kept
until the occupant of the pantry had gone out for a moment, the
skylight was quickly opened, the boathook manipulated and the piece of
beef lifted to the deck. The cook re-entered the pantry just as the
beef was disappearing through the skylight and the expression on his
face haunted the participants in the "Disappearing beef mystery" for
many hours.
[Illustration:
Lieut Phillip C. Powers
K. Co.
Captain W. S. Warriner
K. Co.
Lieut. Harry H. Parkhurst
K. Co.
]
In one corner of the upper deck that afternoon were a number of men
upon whose faces rested an expression of perfect contentment and whose
hands could occasionally be seen to wander over their stomachs as if to
assure themselves that cold roast beef was a suitable article of diet
for a voyage in the tropics. As no ill effects were recorded the
question was settled satisfactorily to them but it is also on record
that no more tempting bits were hung within reach of open skylights or
wandering boathooks. It is also a matter of history that the officers'
lunch that day was rather a poor meal and there was no cold meat on the
table. But Bates didn't care.
How the Knickerbocker ever escaped being run down or colliding with
some other of the vessels of the fleet is one of the mysteries of the
deep. Not less than half a dozen narrow escapes are on record in the
memory of the men who were on her and on one or two occasions the
escapes were so narrow that a few feet either way would have done the
job for the Knickerbocker and her crew and passengers. On one occasion
another boat came so near to running us down that half the men were
ready to jump into the sea but the other boat finally sheered off
by the closest margin. The "Thirteen" hoodoo came near to finding
believers among those on the Knickerbocker before Cuba was reached.
Bathing hours were established on board after the first day out, each
company being allowed an hour aft each day during which the men could
"turn the hose" on each other to their heart's content. As, however,
there was but little salt water soap on board and that little was in
the hands of the steward to be retailed by him at robber baron prices
these attempts at cleanliness proved rather abortive, for it was soon
ascertained that ordinary soap does not lather in salt water and the
effects of the bath under these circumstances was worse if anything
than in Lakeland.
So the days went on until on the 20th we saw the low outline of the
Cuban coast late in the afternoon and at the same time saw the flashes
and heard the dull reports of big guns which told us that the navy was
having a brush with the foe. It lasted only for a few moments, but
this was the first time we had heard guns fired in actual conflict and
although we could see but little the rigging was crowded until long
after the guns were silent. We learned afterwards that it was only
a little brush some of the blockading fleet were having with a fort
near Santiago but it was mighty interesting to us while it lasted.
All the next day the fleet cruised about apparently aimlessly and
that night the Knickerbocker "got lost." How it ever happened no one
knows excepting the captain of the ship and he never volunteered an
explanation so far as we knew. It was expected that we would land that
day but just before dusk a dispatch boat raced up alongside and without
stopping speed an officer on board shouted through a megaphone an order
to Captain Betts to continue "cruising to the northwest, keeping in
touch with the fleet." So off we cruised to the northwest but the rest
of the order as to keeping in touch with the fleet was not carried out.
The next morning when we woke up we found the Knickerbocker all alone
with not a sail or line of smoke on the horizon and with apparently no
one knowing where we were or what we were doing there. Inquiries of
Captain Betts met with gruff and non-committal response and it was not
until just before noon that we came in sight of the rest of the fleet
off Daiquiri and learned that the landing had begun and that had we got
there when we should the Second would have been the first regiment to
land on Cuban soil. Then things were said concerning Capt. Betts and
his boat that would not look nice in print.
Over on our left the big guns of the warships were pounding away at the
fortifications while the small caliber guns were sending in a storm
of bullets into the woods and hills along the shore, clearing them
out before the landing. From the warships to the transports danced
an almost steady stream of launches and small boats to assist in the
landing. The invasion of Cuba by the Fifth army corps was a fact at
last.