In planning the campaign against Santiago, Admiral Sampson wished the
army immediately to assault the defenses at the harbor mouth in order
to open the way for the navy. General Shafter, however, after conferring
with General Garcia, the commander of the insurgents, decided to march
overland against the city. The army did not have sufficient small
vessels to effect a landing; but the navy came to its assistance, and
on the 22d of June the first American troops began to disembark at
Daiquiri, though it was not until the 26th that the entire expedition
was on shore. On the second day Siboney, which had a better anchorage
and was some six miles closer to Santiago, was made the base. From
Siboney there stretched for eight or ten miles a rolling country covered
with heavy jungle brush and crossed by mere threads of roads. There was
indeed a railroad, but this followed a roundabout route by the coast.
Through this novel and extremely uncomfortable country, infected with
mosquitoes, the troops pressed, eager to meet the enemy.
The first engagement took place at Las Guasimas, on the 24th of June.
Here a force of about a thousand dismounted cavalry, partly regulars and
partly Rough Riders, defeated nearly twice their number of Spaniards.
This was the only serious resistance which the Americans encountered
until they reached the advanced defenses of Santiago. The next week
they spent in getting supplies ashore, improving the roads, and
reconnoitering. The newspapers considered this interval entirely too
long! The 30th of June found the Americans confronting the main body
of Spaniards in position, and on the 1st of July, the two armies joined
battle.
Between the opposing forces was the little river San Juan and its
tributaries. The Spanish left wing was at El Caney, supported by a stone
blockhouse, rifle pits, and barbed wire, but with no artillery. About
four miles away was San Juan Hill, with more formidable works straddling
the main road which led to Santiago. Opposite El Caney, General Lawton
was in command of about seven thousand Americans. The fight here began
at half-past six in the morning, but the American artillery was placed
at too great a distance to be very effective. The result was a long and
galling exchange of rifle firing, which is apt to prove trying to raw
troops. The infantry, however, advanced with persistency and showed
marked personal initiative as they pushed forward under such protection
as the brush and grass afforded until they finally rushed a position
which gave opportunity to the artillery. After this they speedily
captured the blockhouse.
The fight lasted over eight hours instead of two, as had been expected,
and thus delayed General Lawton, who was looked for at San Juan by
the American left. The losses, too, were heavy, the total casualties
amounting to seven per cent of the force engaged. The Americans,
however, had gained the position, and after a battle which had been long
and serious enough to test thoroughly the quality of the personnel
of the army. Whatever deficiencies the Americans may have had in
organization, training, and military education, they undoubtedly
possessed fighting spirit, courage, and personal ingenuity, and these
are, after all, the qualities for which builders of armies look.
The battle of El Caney was perhaps unnecessary, for the position lay
outside the main Spanish line anal would probably have been abandoned
when San Juan fell. For that more critical movement General Shafter
kept about eight thousand troops and the personal command. Both he
and General Wheeler, however, were suffering from the climate and were
unable to be with the troops. The problem of making a concerted advance
through the thick underbrush was a difficult one, and the disposition of
the American troops was at once revealed by a battery of artillery which
used black powder, and by a captive balloon which was injudiciously
towed about.
The right wing here, after assuming an exposed position, was unable to
act, as Lawton, by whom it was expecting to be reinforced, was delayed
at El Caney. The advance regiments were under the fire of the artillery,
the infantry, and the skillful sharpshooters of an invisible enemy and
were also exposed to the fierce heat of the sun, to which they were
unaccustomed. The wounded were carried back on litters, turned over to
the surgeons, who worked manfully with the scantiest of equipment, and
were then laid, often naked except for their bandages, upon the damp
ground. Regiment blocked regiment in the narrow road, and officers
carrying orders were again and again struck, as they emerged from cover,
by the sharpshooters' fire. The want of means of communication paralyzed
the command, for all the equipment of a modern army was lacking: there
were no aeroplanes, no wireless stations, no telephones.
Throughout the morning the situation grew worse, but the nerve of the
men did not give way, and American individual initiative rose to the
boiling point. Realizing that safety lay only in advance, the officers
on the spot began to take control. General Hawkins, with the Sixth and
Sixteenth Regulars, advanced against the main blockhouse, which crested
a slope of two hundred feet, and the men of the Seventy-first New York
Volunteers joined promiscuously in the charge.
To the right rose Kettle Hill, jutting out and Banking the approach to
the main position. Facing it and dismounted were the First and Ninth
Regular Cavalry, the latter a negro regiment, and the Rough Riders under
Colonel Roosevelt. The Tenth Infantry was between the two wings, and
divided in the support of both. A battery of Gatling guns was placed in
position. The Americans steadily advanced in an irregular line, though
kept in some sort of formation by their officers. Breaking down brush
and barbed wire and sheltering themselves in the high grass, the men on
the right wing worked their way up Kettle Hill, but before they reached
the rifle pits of the enemy, they saw the Spaniards retreating on the
run. The audacity of the Americans at the critical moment had insured
the ultimate success of their attack and they found the final capture of
the hill easy.
The longer charge against the center of the enemy was in the meantime
being pressed home, under the gallant leadership of General Hawkins, who
at times was far in advance of his line. The men of the right wing who
looked down from their new position on Kettle Hill, a quarter of a
mile distant, saw the Spaniards give way and the American center dash
forward. In order to support this advance movement, the Gatlings were
brought to Kettle Hill, and General S.S. Sumner and Colonel Roosevelt
led their men down Kettle and up San Juan Hill, where they swept over
the northern jut only a moment after Hawkins had carried the main
blockhouse.
The San Juan position now in the hands of the Americans was the key of
Santiago, but that entrenched city lay a mile and a quarter distant and
had still to be unlocked--a task which presented no little difficulty.
The Americans, it is true, had an advantageous position on a hilltop,
but the enemy had retired only a quarter of a mile and were supported
by the complete system of fortifications which protected Santiago. The
American losses totaled fifteen hundred, a number just about made good
at this moment by the arrival of General Duffield's brigade, which had
followed the main expedition. The number of the Spanish force, which was
unknown to the Americans, was increased on the 3d of July by the arrival
of a relief expedition under Colonel Escario, with about four thousand
men whom the insurgent forces had failed to meet and block, as had been
planned.
On the 2d of July there was desultory fighting, and on the 3d, General
Shafter telegraphed to the Secretary of War that he was considering the
withdrawal of his troops to a strong position, about five miles in the
rear. The Secretary immediately replied: "Of course you can judge the
situation better than we can at this end of the line. If, however,
you could hold your present position, especially San Juan Heights, the
effect upon the country would be much better than falling back."
The Spanish commanders, however, did not share General Shafter's view as
to the danger involving the Americans. Both Admiral Cervera and General
Blanco considered that the joint operations of the American Army and
Navy had rendered the reduction of Santiago only a question of time,
but they differed as to the course to be pursued. In the end, General
Blanco, who was in supreme command, decided, after an exchange of views
with the Spanish Government and a consultation with the Captain of the
German cruiser Geier, then at Havana, to order the Spanish squadron to
attempt an escape from Santiago harbor. Cervera's sailors had hitherto
been employed in the defense of the city, but with the arrival of the
reinforcements under Escario he found it possible to reman his fleet.
An attempt to escape in the dark seemed impossible because of the
unremitting glare of the searchlights of the American vessels. Cervera
determined upon the desperate expedient of steaming out in broad
daylight and making for Cienfuegos.
The blockade systematically planned by Admiral Sampson was conducted
with a high degree of efficiency. Each American ship had its definite
place and its particular duty. When vessels were obliged to coal at
Guantanamo, forty miles distant, the next in line covered the cruising
interval. The American combined squadron was about double Cervera's in
strength; his ships, however, were supposed to have the advantage in
speed, and it was conceivable that, by turning sharply to the one side
or the other, they might elude the blockading force. On the very day
that Cervera made his desperate dash out of the harbor, as it happened,
the New York, Admiral Sampson's flagship, was out of line, taking the
Admiral to a conference with General Shafter at Siboney, a few miles to
the eastward. The absence of the flagship, however, in no way weakened
the blockade, for, if Cervera turned westward he would find the squadron
of Schley and the other vessels designated to prevent his escape in
that direction, while if he turned eastward he would almost at once
be engaged with the New York, which would then be in an advantageous
position ahead of the chase.
At half-past nine on the morning of the 3d of July, the first vessel of
the Spanish fleet emerged from Santiago Harbor. By 10:10 A.M. all the
Spanish ships were outside of the harbor mouth. Commodore Schley, on
the Brooklyn, hoisted the signal to "close up," apparently on the
understanding that Sampson's signal on leaving for Siboney to "Disregard
motions of the commander-in-chief" had delegated the command to him.
Though this question of command later involved a bitter dispute, it was
at the time of little moment, for clouds of smoke obscured the signals
so frequently that no complicated maneuver could have been guided by
them, and, as far as concerted action was concerned, the whole squadron
was under exactly similar contingent orders from Admiral Sampson. As
a matter of fact, the thing to do was so obvious that the subsequent
dispute really raged on the point of who actually gave an order, the
sense of which every one of the commanders would have executed without
order. If, therefore, the layman feels some annoyance at such a
controversy over naval red tape, he may have the consolation of knowing
that all concerned, admirals and captains, did the right and sensible
thing at the time. If there be an exception, it was the curious maneuver
of Schley, the commander of the Brooklyn, who turned a complete circle
away from the enemy after the battle had begun. This action of his was
certainly not due to a desire to escape, for the Brooklyn quickly turned
again into the fight. A controversy, too, has raged over this maneuver.
Was it undertaken because the Brooklyn was about to be rammed by the
Vizcaya, or because Schley thought that his position blocked the fire of
the other American vessels? It is not unlikely that the commander of the
Spanish ship hoped to ram the Brooklyn, which was, because of her speed,
a most redoubtable foe. But unless this maneuver saved the Brooklyn, it
had little result except to scare the Texas, upon whom she suddenly bore
down out of a dense cloud of smoke.
Steering westward, the Spanish ships attempted to pass the battle line,
but the American vessels kept pace with them. For a short time the
engagement was very severe, for practically all vessels of both fleets
took part, and the Spanish harbor batteries added their fire. At 10:15
A.M. the Maria Teresa, Admiral Cervera's flagship, on fire and badly
shattered by heavy shells, turned toward the beach. Five minutes later
the Oquendo, after something of a duel with the Texas, also turned
inshore. The Brooklyn was in the lead of the Americans, closely followed
by the Oregon, which developed a wonderful burst of speed in excess of
that called for in her contract. These two ships kept up the chase of
the Vizcaya and the Cristobal Colon, while the slower vessels of the
fleet attended to the two Spanish destroyers, Furor and Pluton. At 11:15
A.M. the Vizcaya, riddled by fire from the Brooklyn and Oregon, gave up
the fight.
By this time, Sampson in the New York was rapidly approaching the fight,
and now ordered the majority of the vessels back to their stations. The
Colon, fleeing westward and far ahead of the American ships, was pursued
by the Brooklyn, the Oregon, the Texas, the New York, and the armed
yacht Vixen. It was a stern chase, although the American vessels had
some advantage by cutting across a slight concave indentation of the
coast, while the Colon steamed close inshore. At 1:15 P.M. a shot from
the Oregon struck ahead of the Colon, and it was evident that she was
covered by the American guns. At 1:30 P.M. she gave over her flight and
made for shore some forty-five miles west of Santiago. The victory was
won. It has often been the good fortune of Americans to secure their
greatest victories on patriotic anniversaries and thereby to enhance
the psychological effect. Admiral Sampson was able to announce to the
American people, as a Fourth of July present, the destruction of the
Spanish fleet with the loss of but one of his men and but slight damage
to his ships.
On the hills above Santiago the American Army had now only the
land forces of the Spaniards to contend with. Shafter's demand for
unconditional surrender met with a refusal, and there ensued a week
of military quiet. During this time General Shafter conducted a
correspondence with the War Department, in judging which it is
charitable to remember that the American commander weighed three
hundred pounds, that he was sweltering under a hot sun, and that he was
sixty-three years old, and sick. Too humane to bombard Santiago while
Hobson and his men were still in Spanish hands, he could not forgive
Sampson for not having forced the narrow and well-mined channel at the
risk of his fleet. The War Department, sharing Shafter's indignation,
prepared to attempt the entrance with one of its own transports
protected by baled hay, as had been done on the Mississippi during the
Civil War. Shafter continued to be alarmed at the situation. Without
reenforcements he could not attack, and he proposed to allow the
Spaniards to evacuate. The War Department forbade this alternative and,
on the 10th of July, he began the bombardment of Santiago.
The Secretary of War then hit upon the really happy though quite
unmilitary device of offering, in return for unconditional surrender, to
transport the Spanish troops, at once and without parole, back to their
own country. Secretary Alger was no unskillful politician, and he was
right in believing that this device, though unconventional, would make
a strong appeal to an army three years away from home and with dwindling
hopes of ever seeing Spain again. On the 15th of July a capitulation was
agreed upon, and the terms of surrender included not only the troops
in Santiago but all those in that military district--about twenty-four
thousand men, with cannon, rifles, ammunition, rations, and other
military supplies. Shafter's recommendation that the troops be allowed
to carry their arms back to Spain with them was properly refused by the
War Department. Arrangements were made for Spanish ships paid by the
United States to take the men immediately to Spain. This extraordinary
operation was begun on the 8th of August, while the war was still in
progress, and was accomplished before peace was established.
The Santiago campaign, like the Mexican War, was fought chiefly by
regulars. The Rough Riders and the Seventy-first New York Regiment
were the only volunteer units to take a heavy share. Yet the absence
of effective staff management was so marked that, as compared with the
professional accuracy shown by the navy, the whole campaign on land
appears as an amateur undertaking. But the individual character of both
volunteers and regulars was high. The American victory was fundamentally
due to the fighting spirit of the men and to the individual initiative
of the line and field officers.
In the meantime the health of the American Army was causing grave
concern to its more observant leaders. Six weeks of Cuban climate had
taken out of the army all that exuberant energy which it had brought
with it from the north. The army had accomplished its purpose only
at the complete sacrifice of its fighting strength. Had the Spanish
commander possessed more nerve and held out a little longer, he might
well have seen his victorious enemies wither before his eyes, as the
British had before Cartagena in 1741. On the 3d of August a large
number of the officers of the Santiago army, including Generals Wheeler,
Sumner, and Lawton, and Colonel Roosevelt, addressed a round robin to
General Shafter on the alarming condition of the army. Its substance is
indicated in the following sentences: "This army must be moved at
once or it will perish. As an army it can be safely moved now. Persons
responsible for preventing such a move will be responsible for the
unnecessary loss of many thousands of lives." Already on the 1st of
August, General Shafter had reported 4255 sick, of whom 3164 were cases
of yellow fever, that deadly curse of Cuba, which the lack of proper
quarantine had so often allowed to invade the shores of the United
States. On the 3d of August, even before General Shafter had received
the round robin, the Secretary of War authorized the withdrawal of at
least a portion of the army, which was to be replaced by supposedly
immune regiments. By the middle of August, the soldiers began to arrive
at Camp Wikoff at Montauk Point, on the eastern end of Long Island.
Through this camp, which had been hastily put into condition to receive
them, there passed about thirty-five thousand soldiers, of whom twenty
thousand were sick. When the public saw those who a few weeks before
had been healthy and rollicking American boys, now mere skeletons,
borne helpless in stretchers and looking old and shriveled, a wave of
righteous indignation against Secretary Alger swept over the country,
and eventually accomplished enough to prevent such catastrophes in the
future.
The distressing experience of the army was too real not to have its
constructive effect. Men like William Crawford Gorgas were inspired to
study the sanitation and the diseases of the tropics and have now made
it possible for white men to live there safely. Men of affairs like
Elihu Root were stimulated to give their talents to army administration.
Fortunately the boys were brought north just in time to save their
lives, and the majority, after a recuperation of two or three years,
regained their normal health.
The primary responsibility for this gamble with death rested with
those who sent an expedition from the United States to the tropics in
midsummer when the measures necessary to safeguard its health were not
yet known. This responsibility rested immediately upon the American
people themselves, all too eager for a war for which they were not
prepared and for a speedy victory at all costs. For this national
impatience they had to pay dearly. The striking contrast, however,
between the efficiency of the navy and the lack of preparation on the
part of the army shows that the people as a whole would have supported
a more thorough preparation of the army, had the responsible officials
possessed sufficient courage and intelligence to have demanded it; nor
would the people have been unwilling to defer victory until autumn, had
they been honestly informed of the danger of tropical disease into which
they were sending the flower of their youth. Such a postponement would
not only have meant better weather but it would have given time to teach
the new officers their duty in safeguarding the health of their men as
far as possible, and this precaution alone would have saved many lives.
Owing to the greater practical experience of the officers in the regular
regiments, the death rate among the men in their ranks fell far below
that among the volunteers, even though many of the men with the regulars
had enlisted after the declaration of war. On the other hand, speed as
well as sanitation was an element in the war, and the soldier who was
sacrificed to lack of preparation may be said to have served his country
no less than he who died in battle. Strategy and diplomacy in this
instance were enormously facilitated by the immediate invasion of Cuba,
and perhaps the outcome justified the cost. The question of relative
values is a difficult one.
No such equation of values, however, can hold the judgment in suspense
in the case of the host of secondary errors that grew out of the
indolence of Secretary Alger and his worship of politics. Probably
General Miles was mistaken in his charges concerning embalmed beef, and
possibly the canned beef was not so bad as it tasted; but there can be
no excuse for a Secretary of War who did not consider it his business
to investigate the question of proper rations for an army in the tropics
simply because Congress had, years before, fixed a ration for use within
the United States. There was no excuse for sending many of the men
clad in heavy army woolens. There was no excuse for not providing a
sufficient number of surgeons and abundant hospital service. There was
little excuse for the appointment of General Shafter, which was made in
part for political reasons. There was no excuse for keeping at the head
of the army administration General Nelson A. Miles, with whom, whatever
his abilities, the Secretary of War was unable to work.
The navy did not escape controversy. In fact, a war fought under the
eyes of hundreds of uncensored newspaper correspondents unskilled in
military affairs could not fail to supply a daily grist of scandal to
an appreciative public. The controversy between Sampson and Schley,
however, grew out of incompatible personalities stirred to rivalry by
indiscreet friends and a quarrelsome public. Captain Sampson was chosen
to command, and properly so, because of his recognized abilities.
Commodore Schley, a genial and open-hearted man, too much given to
impulse, though he outranked Sampson, was put under his command. Sampson
was not gracious in his treatment of the Commodore, and ill feeling
resulted. When the time came to promote both officers for their good
conduct, Secretary Long by recommending that Sampson be raised eight
numbers and Schley six, reversed their relative positions as they
had been before the war. This recommendation, in itself proper, was
sustained by the Senate, and all the vitality the controversy ever had
then disappeared, though it remains a bone of contention to be gnawed by
biographers and historians.