Typical examples of this true American spirit were Theodore Roosevelt
and his comrade, Army Surgeon Leonard Wood. Roosevelt saw in Wood a man
after his own heart. Wood traced his ancestry back to the “Mayflower”;
he was directly descended from Susanna White, whose son, Peregrine
White, was the first white child born in New England. Wood was born
at Winchester, New Hampshire, on October 9, 1860. His father was Dr.
Charles Jewett Wood, who followed the profession of a country doctor.
The boy Leonard went to the district school and later attended an
old-fashioned academy at Middleboro.
Upon the death of his father in 1880, Wood entered the Harvard Medical
School. When he graduated he became an intern at the Boston City
Hospital. At twenty-four he began the practice of medicine in Staniford
Street, Boston. He was located in a poor neighborhood and had all he
could do to make ends meet.
In 1885 he took an examination for admission as a surgeon in the army.
He passed second in a competitive class of fifty-nine. His first
service was at Fort Warren, Massachusetts. From this post he was
ordered to Arizona. Here he met Captain H. L. Lawton of the Fourth
Cavalry, who later became Major-General Lawton. The two fought Apaches
together. Wood developed into such a good fighting man that before he
had been commissioned three months, and while he still held the rank of
surgeon, he was given the command of the infantry of the expedition.
While engaged in this work he announced his opinion that a well-trained
white man could endure more than an Indian. It became his ambition to
prove this so far as he himself was concerned.
General Miles, in forwarding to the War Department his report of
Captain Lawton’s expedition against Geronimo, had this to say of Wood:
“He not only fulfilled the duties of his profession in his skillful
attention to disabled officers and soldiers, but at times performed
satisfactorily the duties of a line officer, and, during the whole
extraordinary march, by his example of physical endurance, greatly
encouraged others, having voluntarily made many of the longest and most
difficult marches on foot.”
After service in Mexico, Los Angeles, New Mexico and other posts,
General Wood was ordered to duty as an army surgeon in Washington in
1895. He became a friend of President Cleveland and his family, and
later received a summons from President McKinley to become the regular
medical adviser to Mrs. McKinley and himself. It was at this time
that he met Roosevelt, then Assistant Secretary of the Navy. Their
first meeting occurred when they were guests at dinner of the Lowndes
family. They were at once attracted to each other. They possessed the
same ideals. They went tramping together, ran foot races, scaled steep
hills, crossed log bridges and did anything that would increase their
strength and endurance.
When the talk of war with Spain arose, the two men became so eager to
see active service that President McKinley, who was a close friend to
both Wood and Roosevelt, called them “The War Party.” When Wood visited
McKinley, the latter would ask: “Have you and Theodore declared war
yet?”
General Alger, to whom Wood was also medical adviser, was heartily in
favor of the “Rough Rider” regiment, and when Wood was commissioned to
raise the regiment and appointed its Colonel, General Alger gave him a
desk in his office with the injunction: “Now don’t let me hear from you
again until your regiment is raised!”
In the campaign that followed, Roosevelt testified in regard to Wood:
“No soldier could outwalk him, could live with greater indifference on
hard and scanty fare, could endure hardship better or do better without
sleep.” Others who served under Wood testified that he went through a
hail of bullets without fear, that he would walk erect along the line
when his soldiers were hugging the ground, and that he would calmly
caution his men: “Don’t swear, men. Shoot!”
General Wood’s work as governor of Santiago, and later as governor
of the whole island of Cuba, and his still later efforts shoulder to
shoulder with Roosevelt to arouse America’s conscience and to make
the American army an efficient fighting force, is well known to the
American public.
Roosevelt himself, having publicly expressed the opinion that it was
the duty of the United States to free Cuba, was intensely eager to back
up his words by deeds. The berserker strain in his blood would not
permit him to stay at home.
Having submitted his resignation as Assistant Secretary of the Navy
on April 16, Roosevelt applied for an appointment on General Fitzhugh
Lee’s staff. However, a greater opportunity arose. Congress had
authorized the raising of three national volunteer cavalry regiments
that were to act independently of the state troops. Secretary of
War Alger offered Roosevelt the command of one of these regiments.
Roosevelt had had four years membership in the 8th Regiment of the
New York State National Guard and had risen to the rank of captain.
This was a basis for his military career. He told Alger that after
six weeks’ service in the field he felt that he would be competent to
handle the regiment, but that he would not know how to equip it or how
to get it ready for the first action. He recommended that Wood be given
the command, and that he be allowed to serve under him. Alger laughed
at his modesty, but the matter ended with Wood being appointed colonel
of the regiment while Roosevelt became lieutenant-colonel. The regiment
was called the 1st United States Volunteer Cavalry, but the public soon
nicknamed it “Roosevelt’s Rough Riders.”
This regiment was to be raised from the states of Arizona, New Mexico,
Oklahoma and Texas. It was at first limited to 780 men. Later the
number was raised to 1,000. Strong and picturesque was the company that
composed the contingent.
During Roosevelt’s stay on his ranch in Dakota he had learned to value
the plainsmen as men of great courage and resistance, with bodies in
splendid condition for undergoing the hardships of war. They were
skilled horsemen; they knew how to use their guns, and they were
therefore ideal material for the cavalry. Roosevelt called to them
and they came. Along with these cowboys flocked hunters from the
backwoods, trappers from the Rockies, Indian fighters and even redskins
themselves. Prominent young clubmen of New York and Boston; students
of Harvard, Yale, Princeton and other universities; policemen who had
served under Roosevelt on the New York police force clamored for places
in the regiment. No men were taken, however, until they proved that
they possessed ability as horsemen, that they were skilled in the use
of the rifle and that they were physically able to endure a strenuous
campaign.
The officers were generally selected from men who had been in the
regular army, who, having fought against the Apache or the Cheyenne,
had ended their terms of service and settled in the Southwest. Other
officers were recruited from the ranks of sheriffs and deputy sheriffs,
marshals and deputy marshals--men who had waged unceasing warfare
against bad Indians or white desperadoes.
The men in the ranks had careers just as adventurous. Some had typical
Western names: Cherokee Bill, Happy Jack of Arizona, Bronco Buster,
Smoky Moore and Rattlesnake Pete. Professional gamblers mingled with
Baptist or Methodist clergymen to the enlightenment of each. One of
the gamest fighters was a full-blooded Pawnee named Pollock. Another
was a Cherokee.
Some one called the regiment “Roosevelt’s Rough Riders.” The name
caught the public’s fancy. It spread from coast to coast and made
Roosevelt’s name a household word.
Roosevelt had his work cut out for him in welding the various elements
under him into a disciplined unit. He measured fully up to his task.
No man was better equipped than he for such a command. In roundups in
the Far West, in hunting expeditions, in the political districts of
New York City, in clubs and drawing-rooms and in official circles he
had met all sorts and conditions of men. He knew how to talk with each
class in its own language. He knew how to be friendly and intimate, yet
at the same time to keep his dignity and their respect. The men began
to obey orders and assume the military manner in a way that aroused
their officers’ warmest commendation. They comprehended that without
discipline they would be a mere mob, dangerous to themselves and to
their country, and, however tiresome were the drills and tactics, they
performed them quickly and efficiently.
The relations between officers and men were democratic and friendly,
suggesting the relations of our officers and privates during the
present war. The Colonel, in his book, “The Rough Riders,” gives
several instances of this.
Holderman, the cook, announced dinner to the Colonel and three majors
in this way: “If you fellows don’t come soon everything’ll get cold.”
No one rebuked him. A sentinel who had just mastered the manual of arms
saluted with great pride as Roosevelt passed; then he added heartily:
“Good evening, Colonel!” This breach of military etiquette the Colonel
found it wise to overlook.
Another sentinel, when mosquitoes were bad, slapped at them vigorously,
with this side remark to the Colonel:
“Ain’t they bad?”
“That they are!” returned Roosevelt, slapping away in his turn.
The horses for the regiment were brought from the Western ranges. Some
of them were so wild that the men were compelled to throw them down
and tie them before they could be shod. Others bucked their riders.
The regiment, however, was not lacking in men who knew how to tame and
handle rebellious broncos, and the splendid horsemanship of the riders
resulted in them making their horses perform each maneuver with speed
and accuracy. However vicious or restless a horse might be, his rider
would force him to stay in line. Naturally, such horsemen and such
horses gave the regiment an appearance of dash and ease that excited
the admiration of all who saw the skirmish drills.
Colonel Roosevelt’s own mounts came from Texas. While the price paid
for them was only $50 each--ridiculously low compared to the high price
of horseflesh during the world war--they proved tough and hardy and
rendered Roosevelt excellent service.
Colonel Wood and Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt were anxious to get their
men to the firing line. They knew the regular army would have the most
difficult work, and their object was to train and equip their regiment
so that its fighting efficiency would gain it a place at the very
front. Finally marching orders came. The men cheered and were off.
A big disappointment--though of a minor nature so far as military
affairs were concerned--was in store for them. A pity it is to narrate
that this body of men were not allowed to show their prowess as
horsemen. It developed that, after all, the men were not to be used as
mounted soldiers. The blow was an especially hard one to Roosevelt,
who had trained his men in shock tactics for use against hostile
cavalry. The decision was also a trying one for some of the men who
were more at home in the saddle than on foot.
However, the men took the order like good soldiers, and in slouch
hats, blue flannel shirts, brown trousers, leggings and boots, with
handkerchiefs knotted around their throats, they marched off on the
first step of their journey to Cuba.