MORE CENSORSHIP
I must confess that I stood in awe of these newspaper chaps, because I
knew my orders would incense them and if they took it into their heads
to roast me my life would be made miserable for a good many days to
come. But then in the army orders are made to be obeyed and I determined
not to show partiality to any of them. It was to be "a fair field and no
favor," so I sent word and asked them to meet me in the reading-room of
the hotel at two o'clock that afternoon. They came garbed in all sorts
of field uniform and I made a little speech telling what they might send
and what was interdicted; I remarked that the work was as irksome to me
as it was to them, but orders were orders and if they would live up to
the few _simple_ rules they would make my task much easier and save
themselves lots of trouble. Nothing absolutely was to be sent, that
would convey in any way an idea of the number of troops in Tampa, the
time of arrival or departure of any number of troops or ships, and
above all, not a word was to be sent out as to when the 5th Army Corps
was to sail. When I had finished one of the correspondents shook his
head in a deprecatory way and said:
"Well, captain, we thought Lieutenant Miley (my predecessor) was bad
enough but you can give him cards and spades and beat him out. You're
certainly a hummer from the word go, and I reckon we'd better go home."
He had my sympathy but that was all. Every correspondent had a war
department pass; these I examined and registered each man.
That night my fun commenced. At six P. M. they began to file stuff, and
armed with a big blue pencil I started to slash and when I finished,
some of their sheets looked like a miniature football field, while their
faces betokened blank amazement and intense disgust. Boiled down, the
first night's batch of copy consisted of a glowing description of the
new censor; this fiend whose weapon was a blue pencil--his glowing red
whiskers--his goggle eyes, and his Titian-colored hair. One of them
said:
"This afternoon the new censor stuck his head out of the window and the
glow was so great from his red whiskers and auburn locks that the fire
department was turned out. The latest report is that the censor was
unquenched," and so on. They couldn't send any news so they sent me.
Most of them were space writers and everything went. In many ways they
tried to evade the rules; by insinuations, hints upon which a bright
telegraph editor could raise an edifice with a semblance of truth, but
the blue pencil generally got in its work before the dispatch reached
the operator. I had two stamps made; one "O. K. for transmission," and
the other, "REJECTED, file, do not return." Number one went on all
messages for transmission and number two on all others. As I gaze at
these relics now I see that number two has been used much more than its
companion.
I had made it a rule that each paper maintaining a correspondent in
Tampa was to furnish me with a copy of every edition of the paper. As a
result, in a few days I had a mail that was stupendous. A clerk was on
hand who read these papers, marking all things bearing a Tampa date
line. Then I would read them and woe betide the correspondent whose
paper contained contraband news from Tampa. Off went his head and his
permit was recalled for a certain time as a punishment.
There never has been a line of sentinels so strong but that some one
could break through, and there was undoubtedly some leakage from Tampa,
but to see news of actual importance from there was like hunting for a
needle in a haystack. The mails carried out some, but even then the
correspondents suffered. Two incidents may not be amiss.
One young chap whose keenness ran away with his judgment, brought me a
stack of copy one night, almost every word of which was contraband. The
blue pencil got in its work in great shape and then the "rejected" stamp
put its seal of disapproval on the message and it was filed away with
many others, that "were not dead, but sleeping." Mr. Correspondent
muttered something about "a cussed red-headed censor who wasn't the pope
and could be beaten" and walked away. I thought no more of the matter
until about seven days thereafter when my clerk gave me a marked copy of
the correspondent's paper, and there, big as life, under a Tampa date
line was the rejected dispatch. He had left my office and mailed his
story to a friend living up in Georgia, and it was telegraphed by him
from there. You see, Georgia was beyond my jurisdiction. He had surely
made a "scoop;" he had sown the wind and that night he reaped the
whirlwind, because I promptly suspended him from correspondents'
privileges, and forbade him the use of the wires. General Greely upheld
me in this as in all other cases and for ten days I allowed him to
ruminate over his offence, while his paper was cussing him out for
failing to send in stuff. Then I restored him to his former status,
first making him sign a pledge on honor that he would abide forever
thereafter by the censorship rules.
Another young man who represented a Cincinnati daily, walked into the
express office in Tampa one evening and gave the agent a package saying:
"Say, old chap, have your messenger running north to-night give this to
the first operator after crossing the Georgia line and tell him to send
it to my paper. It's a big scoop and I want to get it through."
Of course, the "old chap" was built just that way. He took the message
and in five minutes it was reposing gently in my desk. I then quickly
sent out a telegram to all my censors taking away the correspondent's
privileges until further orders.
That night full of innocence--and beer--he walked into the Tampa city
office and handed Censor Fellers a message for his paper, just as a
sort of a bluff. Fellers grinned at him quietly said:
"Sorry, Mr. J--, but Captain B--has just suspended you from use of the
telegraph until further orders."
In a very few minutes Mr. J--appeared at my office, blustering like a
Kansas cyclone, and demanded to know why I had dared to treat him thus?
I simply picked up his copy and showed it to him, saying:
"This is your handwriting, I believe, Mr. J--."
The props dropped out from under him and he said:
"Well, by thunder, you censor mail, telegraph and express; I reckon if I
attempted to send anything by carrier pigeon you'd catch it and put that
d--d old 'rejected' stamp on it."
"No," I replied, "but I might possibly use it on a mule."
In spite of his pleadings and promises he was hung up for ten days.
It must be said, however, that such men as these were rarities: most of
the men, especially those representing the great dailies, were only too
willing to abide by orders. They kicked hard--naturally and
rightfully--because news that they were forbidden to send from Tampa was
sent broadcast from Washington as coming from the war department. Oh!
yes they kicked so much that it seemed as if my auburn locks would turn
gray, but the protest was against the censorship in general and not
against me. I was enough of a newspaper man to fully appreciate their
position, and more than one message went from me to General Greely
asking if Washington could not be censored as well as Tampa. No! Army
officers had no power to stop the mouths of the high civil officials of
the government, and so the dance went on.
And the managing editors would flood their correspondents with telegrams
of inquiry as to why they did not send the news that daily came from
Washington as having originated in Tampa; and the correspondents would
come to me and I would endeavor to calm them down as best I could. Then,
incidentally, the managing editors would take a fling at me personally,
and I would receive a polite telegram of protest but to no avail.
Finally, one night the trouble culminated, and conjointly the
correspondents sent a long telegram to General Greely asking if he could
not right the seeming injustice. They did not mind being beaten in a
fair field, but they did hate to be "scooped" by Washington
correspondents who were having an easy time. Almost every man signed
the protest and then it was brought to me, and I quickly O. K'd. it.
Shortly afterwards a number of them came to my office and assured me
that it was not against me personally they were kicking, and Louis
Seibold, of the New York World, sent General Greely a message saying:
"I don't like your blooming censor business one bit, but if you have to
have it, you've got the best man for it in the army right here in
Tampa," or words to that effect. Many others sent similar messages, but
not quite so outspoken. General Greely appreciated their position and
said so, but was unable to change the condition of affairs and so
matters continued.
All this time feverish preparations were being made to rush off
Shafter's expedition. June 7th was a very hard and trying day, and at
six o'clock in the evening I had just seated myself for a hasty bite of
dinner when a messenger came to me from the telegraph office saying that
the White House wanted me at once. I went to the key and was informed
that the President wanted to talk to Generals Miles and Shafter and that
the greatest secrecy must be maintained. After sending word to the
generals, I sent all the operators out of the office, closed the windows
and turned down the sounder so that it could not be heard _three feet
away_. When General Shafter came in he had an officer stationed in the
hall so that no one could approach in that direction. General Miles came
in shortly afterwards and the door was closed. We all sat in front of
the table, General Miles on my right, and General Shafter on the left.
Lieutenant Miley of General Shafter's staff stood behind his chief. It
was a scene long to be remembered. General Shafter was dressed in the
plain blue army fatigue uniform, its strict sombreness being relieved
only by the two gleaming silver stars on his shoulder straps. General
Miles, the commanding general, was in conventional tuxedo dress, and
looked every inch the gallant soldier and gentleman that he is. From the
little telegraph instrument on the table ran a single strand of copper
wire, out in the dark night, over the pine tops of Florida and Georgia,
over the mountains of the Carolinas, and hills and vales of Virginia,
into the Executive Mansion at Washington. In the office of the White
House were the President, the Secretary of War, and Adjutant-General
Corbin. The key there was worked by Colonel Montgomery, so if there ever
was an official wire this was one.
When all was ready I told the White House to go ahead.
The first message was from the Secretary of War to General Shafter
directing him to sail at once, as he was needed at the destination which
was known at this time only to about five officers in Tampa. General
Shafter replied that he would be ready to sail the next morning at
daylight. Then, by the President's direction, a message was repeated
that had been received from Admiral Sampson, saying he had that day
bombarded the outer defenses of Santiago, and if ten thousand men were
there the city and fleet would fall within forty-eight hours. The
President further directed that General Shafter should sail as indicated
by him with not less than ten thousand men. Then followed an interchange
of messages, more or less personal in their nature, between the generals
and the Washington contingent. Finally all was over and the line was cut
off. The whole conversation lasted about fifty minutes, but the
beginning of new history was started in that time and the curtain was
going up on the grand drama of war. All the time this was going on I
could hear faintly his strains of '_Auf Wiedersehn_,' together with the
merry jest of the officers and the light laughter of the women. Brave
men, braver women--soon their laughter was turned to tears and many of
the officers who went out of the Tampa Bay hotel on that warm June night
are now sleeping their last sleep, having given up their lives that
their country's honor might live. The train carrying the headquarters to
Port Tampa left at five o'clock in the morning. There was very little
sleep that night and the next morning the big hotel was well nigh
deserted. And all this time the destination of the fleet was unknown to
all but those high in rank and myself.