a very difficult jungle-filled valley. There was nothing but jungle all
around, and if I advanced I was afraid I might get out of touch with
everybody and not be going in the right direction. Moreover, as far as
I could see, there was now nobody in front who was shooting at us,
although some of the men on my left insisted that our own men had fired
into us--an allegation which I soon found was almost always made in such
a fight, and which in this case was not true. At this moment some of the
regulars appeared across the ravine on our right. The first thing they
did was to fire a volley at us, but one of our first sergeants went up a
tree and waved a guidon at them and they stopped. Firing was still going
on to our left, however, and I was never more puzzled to know what to
do. I did not wish to take my men out of their position without orders,
for fear that I might thereby be leaving a gap if there was a Spanish
force which meditated an offensive return. On the other hand, it did
not seem to me that I had been doing enough fighting to justify my
existence, and there was obviously fighting going on to the left. I
remember that I kept thinking of the refrain of the fox-hunting song,
"Here's to every friend who struggled to the end"; in the hunting field
I had always acted on this theory, and, no matter how discouraging
appearances might be, had never stopped trying to get in at the death
until the hunt was actually over; and now that there was work, and not
play, on hand, I intended to struggle as hard as I knew how not to
be left out of any fighting into which I could, with any possible
propriety, get.
So I left my men where they were and started off at a trot toward where
the firing was, with a couple of orderlies to send back for the men in
case that proved advisable. Like most tyros, I was wearing my sword,
which in thick jungle now and then got between my legs--from that day on
it always went corded in the baggage. I struck the trail, and began to
pass occasional dead men. Pretty soon I reached Wood and found, much to
my pleasure, that I had done the right thing, for as I came up word was
brought to him that Brodie had been shot, and he at once sent me to take
charge of the left wing. It was more open country here, and at least I
was able to get a glimpse of my own men and exercise some control over
them. There was much firing going on, but for the life of me I could not
see any Spaniards, and neither could any one else. Finally we made up
our minds that they were shooting at us from a set of red-tiled ranch
buildings a good way in front, and these I assaulted, finally charging
them. Before we came anywhere near, the Spaniards, who, as it proved,
really were inside and around them, abandoned them, leaving a few dead
men.
By the time I had taken possession of these buildings all firing had
ceased everywhere. I had not the faintest idea what had happened:
whether the fight was over; or whether this was merely a lull in the
fight; or where the Spaniards were; or whether we might be attacked
again; or whether we ought ourselves to attack somebody somewhere else.
I got my men in order and sent out small parties to explore the ground
in front, who returned without finding any foe. (By this time, as a
matter of fact, the Spaniards were in full retreat.) Meanwhile I was
extending my line so as to get into touch with our people on the right.
Word was brought to me that Wood had been shot--which fortunately proved
not to be true--and as, if this were so, it meant that I must take
charge of the regiment, I moved over personally to inquire. Soon I
learned that he was all right, that the Spaniards had retreated along
the main road, and that Colonel Wood and two or three other officers
were a short distance away. Before I reached them I encountered a
captain of the Ninth Cavalry, very glum because his troopers had not
been up in time to take part in the fight, and he congratulated me--with
visible effort!--upon my share in our first victory. I thanked him
cordially, not confiding in him that till that moment I myself knew
exceeding little about the victory; and proceeded to where Generals
Wheeler, Lawton, and Chaffee, who had just come up, in company with
Wood, were seated on a bank. They expressed appreciation of the way that
I had handled my troops, first on the right wing and then on the left!
As I was quite prepared to find I had committed some awful sin, I did my
best to accept this in a nonchalant manner, and not to look as relieved
as I felt. As throughout the morning I had preserved a specious aspect
of wisdom, and had commanded first one and then the other wing, the
fight was really a capital thing for me, for practically all the men
had served under my actual command, and thenceforth felt an enthusiastic
belief that I would lead them aright.
It was a week after this skirmish before the army made the advance on
Santiago. Just before this occurred General Young was stricken down with
fever. General Wheeler, who had commanded the Cavalry Division, was put
in general charge of the left wing of the army, which fought before the
city itself. Brigadier-General Sam Sumner, an excellent officer, who had
the second cavalry brigade, took command of the cavalry division, and
Wood took command of our brigade, while, to my intense delight, I got
my regiment. I therefore had command of the regiment before the stiffest
fighting occurred. Later, when Wood was put in command in Santiago, I
became the brigade commander.
Late in the evening we camped at El Poso. There were two regular
officers, the brigade commander's aides, Lieutenants A. L. Mills and W.
E. Shipp, who were camped by our regiment. Each of my men had food in
his haversack, but I had none, and I would have gone supperless to bed
if Mills and Shipp had not given me out of their scanty stores a big
sandwich, which I shared with my orderly, who also had nothing. Next
morning my body servant Marshall, an ex-soldier of the Ninth (Colored)
Cavalry, a fine and faithful fellow, had turned up and I was able in my
turn to ask Mills and Shipp, who had eaten all their food the preceding
evening, to take breakfast with me. A few hours later gallant Shipp was
dead, and Mills, an exceptionally able officer, had been shot through
the head from side to side, just back of the eyes; yet he lived,
although one eye was blinded, and before I left the Presidency I gave
him his commission as Brigadier-General.
Early in the morning our artillery began firing from the hill-crest
immediately in front of where our men were camped. Several of the
regiment were killed and wounded by the shrapnel of the return fire of
the Spaniards. One of the shrapnel bullets fell on my wrist and raised
a bump as big as a hickory nut, but did not even break the skin. Then
we were marched down from the hill on a muddy road through thick jungle
towards Santiago. The heat was great, and we strolled into the fight
with no definite idea on the part of any one as to what we were to do
or what would happen. There was no plan that our left wing was to make
a serious fight that day; and as there were no plans, it was naturally
exceedingly hard to get orders, and each of us had to act largely on his
own responsibility.
Lawton's infantry division attacked the little village of El Caney, some
miles to the right. Kent's infantry division and Sumner's dismounted
cavalry division were supposed to detain the Spanish army in Santiago
until Lawton had captured El Caney. Spanish towns and villages, however,
with their massive buildings, are natural fortifications, as the French
found in the Peninsular War, and as both the French and our people found
in Mexico. The Spanish troops in El Caney fought very bravely, as did
the Spanish troops in front of us, and it was late in the afternoon
before Lawton accomplished his task.
Meanwhile we of the left wing had by degrees become involved in a fight
which toward the end became not even a colonel's fight, but a squad
leader's fight. The cavalry division was put at the head of the line.
We were told to march forward, cross a little river in front, and then,
turning to the right, march up alongside the stream until we connected
with Lawton. Incidentally, this movement would not have brought us
into touch with Lawton in any event. But we speedily had to abandon any
thought of carrying it out. The maneuver brought us within fair range
of the Spanish intrenchments along the line of hills which we called the
San Juan Hills, because on one of them was the San Juan blockhouse. On
that day my regiment had the lead of the second brigade, and we marched
down the trail following in trace behind the first brigade. Apparently
the Spaniards could not make up their minds what to do as the three
regular regiments of the first brigade crossed and defiled along the
other bank of the stream, but when our regiment was crossing they began
to fire at us.
Under this flank fire it soon became impossible to continue the march.
The first brigade halted, deployed, and finally began to fire back. Then
our brigade was halted. From time to time some of our men would fall,
and I sent repeated word to the rear to try to get authority to attack
the hills in front. Finally General Sumner, who was fighting the
division in fine shape, sent word to advance. The word was brought to
me by Mills, who said that my orders were to support the regulars in
the assault on the hills, and that my objective would be the red-tiled
ranch-house in front, on a hill which we afterwards christened Kettle
Hill. I mention Mills saying this because it was exactly the kind of
definite order the giving of which does so much to insure success in a
fight, as it prevents all obscurity as to what is to be done. The order
to attack did not reach the first brigade until after we ourselves
reached it, so that at first there was doubt on the part of their
officers whether they were at liberty to join in the advance.
I had not enjoyed the Guasimas fight at all, because I had been so
uncertain as to what I ought to do. But the San Juan fight was entirely
different. The Spaniards had a hard position to attack, it is true,
but we could see them, and I knew exactly how to proceed. I kept on
horseback, merely because I found it difficult to convey orders along
the line, as the men were lying down; and it is always hard to get men
to start when they cannot see whether their comrades are also going.
So I rode up and down the lines, keeping them straightened out, and
gradually worked through line after line until I found myself at
the head of the regiment. By the time I had reached the lines of the
regulars of the first brigade I had come to the conclusion that it was
silly to stay in the valley firing at the hills, because that was really
where we were most exposed, and that the thing to do was to try to
rush the intrenchments. Where I struck the regulars there was no one
of superior rank to mine, and after asking why they did not charge, and
being answered that they had no orders, I said I would give the order.
There was naturally a little reluctance shown by the elderly officer in
command to accept my order, so I said, "Then let my men through, sir,"
and I marched through, followed by my grinning men. The younger officers
and the enlisted men of the regulars jumped up and joined us. I waved
my hat, and we went up the hill with a rush. Having taken it, we looked
across at the Spaniards in the trenches under the San Juan blockhouse to
our left, which Hawkins's brigade was assaulting. I ordered our men to
open fire on the Spaniards in the trenches.
Memory plays funny tricks in such a fight, where things happen quickly,
and all kinds of mental images succeed one another in a detached kind
of way, while the work goes on. As I gave the order in question there
slipped through my mind Mahan's account of Nelson's orders that each
ship as it sailed forward, if it saw another ship engaged with an
enemy's ship, should rake the latter as it passed. When Hawkins's
soldiers captured the blockhouse, I, very much elated, ordered a charge
on my own hook to a line of hills still farther on. Hardly anybody heard
this order, however; only four men started with me, three of whom were
shot. I gave one of them, who was only wounded, my canteen of water, and
ran back, much irritated that I had not been followed--which was quite
unjustifiable, because I found that nobody had heard my orders. General
Sumner had come up by this time, and I asked his permission to lead the
charge. He ordered me to do so, and this time away we went, and stormed
the Spanish intrenchments. There was some close fighting, and we took
a few prisoners. We also captured the Spanish provisions, and ate them
that night with great relish. One of the items was salted flying-fish,
by the way. There were also bottles of wine, and jugs of fiery spirit,
and as soon as possible I had these broken, although not before one
or two of my men had taken too much liquor. Lieutenant Howze, of the
regulars, an aide of General Sumner's, brought me an order to halt where
I was; he could not make up his mind to return until he had spent an
hour or two with us under fire. The Spaniards attempted a counter-attack
in the middle of the afternoon, but were driven back without effort, our
men laughing and cheering as they rose to fire; because hitherto they
had been assaulting breastworks, or lying still under artillery fire,
and they were glad to get a chance to shoot at the Spaniards in the
open. We lay on our arms that night and as we were drenched with sweat,
and had no blankets save a few we took from the dead Spaniards, we found
even the tropic night chilly before morning came.
During the afternoon's fighting, while I was the highest officer at our
immediate part of the front, Captains Boughton and Morton of the regular
cavalry, two as fine officers as any man could wish to have beside him
in battle, came along the firing line to tell me that they had heard
a rumor that we might fall back, and that they wished to record their
emphatic protest against any such course. I did not believe there was
any truth in the rumor, for the Spaniards were utterly incapable of any
effective counter-attack. However, late in the evening, after the fight,
General Wheeler visited us at the front, and he told me to keep myself
in readiness, as at any moment it might be decided to fall back. Jack
Greenway was beside me when General Wheeler was speaking. I answered,
"Well, General, I really don't know whether we would obey an order to
fall back. We can take that city by a rush, and if we have to move
out of here at all I should be inclined to make the rush in the right
direction." Greenway nodded an eager assent. The old General, after a
moment's pause, expressed his hearty agreement, and said that he would
see that there was no falling back. He had been very sick for a couple
of days, but, sick as he was, he managed to get into the fight. He was a
gamecock if ever there was one, but he was in very bad physical shape
on the day of the fight. If there had been any one in high command to
supervise and press the attack that afternoon, we would have gone
right into Santiago. In my part of the line the advance was halted only
because we received orders not to move forward, but to stay on the crest
of the captured hill and hold it.
We are always told that three-o'clock-in-the-morning courage is the most
desirable kind. Well, my men and the regulars of the cavalry had just
that brand of courage. At about three o'clock on the morning after the
first fight, shooting began in our front and there was an alarm of a
Spanish advance. I was never more pleased than to see the way in which
the hungry, tired, shabby men all jumped up and ran forward to the
hill-crest, so as to be ready for the attack; which, however, did not
come. As soon as the sun rose the Spaniards again opened upon us with
artillery. A shell burst between Dave Goodrich and myself, blacking us
with powder, and killing and wounding several of the men immediately
behind us.
Next day the fight turned into a siege; there were some stirring
incidents; but for the most part it was trench work. A fortnight later
Santiago surrendered. Wood won his brigadier-generalship by the capital
way in which he handled his brigade in the fight, and in the following
siege. He was put in command of the captured city; and in a few days I
succeeded to the command of the brigade.
The health of the troops was not good, and speedily became very bad.
There was some dysentery, and a little yellow fever; but most of
the trouble was from a severe form of malarial fever. The Washington
authorities had behaved better than those in actual command of the
expedition at one crisis. Immediately after the first day's fighting
around Santiago the latter had hinted by cable to Washington that they
might like to withdraw, and Washington had emphatically vetoed the
proposal. I record this all the more gladly because there were not
too many gleams of good sense shown in the home management of the war;
although I wish to repeat that the real blame for this rested primarily
with us ourselves, the people of the United States, who had for years
pursued in military matters a policy that rendered it certain that there
would be ineptitude and failure in high places if ever a crisis came.
After the siege the people in Washington showed no knowledge whatever
of the conditions around Santiago, and proposed to keep the army there.
This would have meant that at least three-fourths of the men would
either have died or have been permanently invalided, as a virulent form
of malaria was widespread, and there was a steady growth of dysentery
and other complaints. No object of any kind was to be gained by keeping
the army in or near the captured city. General Shafter tried his best to
get the Washington authorities to order the army home. As he failed to
accomplish anything, he called a council of the division and brigade
commanders and the chief medical officers to consult over the situation.
Although I had command of a brigade, I was only a colonel, and so I
did not intend to attend, but the General informed me that I was
particularly wanted, and accordingly I went. At the council General
Shafter asked the medical authorities as to conditions, and they united
in informing him that they were very bad, and were certain to grow
much worse; and that in order to avoid frightful ravages from disease,
chiefly due to malaria, the army should be sent back at once to some
part of the northern United States. The General then explained that he
could not get the War Department to understand the situation; that he
could not get the attention of the public; and that he felt that there
should be some authoritative publication which would make the War
Department take action before it was too late to avert the ruin of the
army. All who were in the room expressed their agreement.
Then the reason for my being present came out. It was explained to me
by General Shafter, and by others, that as I was a volunteer officer
and intended immediately to return to civil life, I could afford to take
risks which the regular army men could not afford to take and ought
not to be expected to take, and that therefore I ought to make the
publication in question; because to incur the hostility of the War
Department would not make any difference to me, whereas it would be
destructive to the men in the regular army, or to those who hoped to
get into the regular army. I thought this true, and said I would write
a letter or make a statement which could then be published.
Brigadier-General Ames, who was in the same position that I was, also
announced that he would make a statement.
When I left the meeting it was understood that I was to make my
statement as an interview in the press; but Wood, who was by that time
Brigadier-General commanding the city of Santiago, gave me a quiet hint
to put my statement in the form of a letter to General Shafter, and this
I accordingly did. When I had written my letter, the correspondent
of the Associated Press, who had been informed by others of what had
occurred, accompanied me to General Shafter. I presented the letter to
General Shafter, who waved it away and said: "I don't want to take it;
do whatever you wish with it." I, however, insisted on handing it to
him, whereupon he shoved it toward the correspondent of the Associated
Press, who took hold of it, and I released my hold. General Ames made
a statement direct to the correspondent, and also sent a cable to the
Assistant Secretary of the Navy at Washington, a copy of which he
gave to the correspondent. By this time the other division and brigade
commanders who were present felt that they had better take action
themselves. They united in a round robin to General Shafter, which
General Wood dictated, and which was signed by Generals Kent, Gates,
Chaffee, Sumner, Ludlow, Ames, and Wood, and by myself. General Wood
handed this to General Shafter, and it was made public by General
Shafter precisely as mine was made public.[*] Later I was much amused
when General Shafter stated that he could not imagine how my letter and
the round robin got out! When I saw this statement, I appreciated how
wise Wood had been in hinting to me not to act on the suggestion of the
General that I should make a statement to the newspapers, but to put
my statement in the form of a letter to him as my superior officer, a
letter which I delivered to him. Both the letter and the round robin
were written at General Shafter's wish, and at the unanimous suggestion
of all the commanding and medical officers of the Fifth Army Corps, and
both were published by General Shafter.
[*] General Wood writes me: "The representative of the
Associated Press was very anxious to get a copy of this
despatch or see it, and I told him it was impossible for him
to have it or see it. I then went in to General Shafter and
stated the case to him, handing him the despatch, saying,
'The matter is now in your hands.' He, General Shafter, then
said, 'I don't care whether this gentleman has it or not,'
and I left then. When I went back the General told me he had
given the Press representative a copy of the despatch, and
that he had gone to the office with it."
In a regiment the prime need is to have fighting men; the prime virtue
is to be able and eager to fight with the utmost effectiveness. I have
never believed that this was incompatible with other virtues. On the
contrary, while there are of course exceptions, I believe that on the
average the best fighting men are also the best citizens. I do not
believe that a finer set of natural soldiers than the men of my regiment
could have been found anywhere, and they were first-class citizens in
civil life also. One fact may perhaps be worthy of note. Whenever we
were in camp and so fixed that we could have regular meals, we used to
have a general officers' mess, over which I of course presided. During
our entire service there was never a foul or indecent word uttered at
the officers' mess--I mean this literally; and there was very little
swearing--although now and then in the fighting, if there was a moment
when swearing seemed to be the best method of reaching the heart of the
matter, it was resorted to.
The men I cared for most in the regiment were the men who did the best
work; and therefore my liking for them was obliged to take the shape of
exposing them to the most fatigue and hardship, of demanding from them
the greatest service, and of making them incur the greatest risk. Once
I kept Greenway and Goodrich at work for forty-eight hours, without
sleeping, and with very little food, fighting and digging trenches. I
freely sent the men for whom I cared most, to where death might smite
them; and death often smote them--as it did the two best officers in my
regiment, Allyn Capron and Bucky O'Neil. My men would not have respected
me had I acted otherwise. Their creed was my creed. The life even of the
most useful man, of the best citizen, is not to be hoarded if there be
need to spend it. I felt, and feel, this about others; and of course
also about myself. This is one reason why I have always felt impatient
contempt for the effort to abolish the death penalty on account of
sympathy with criminals. I am willing to listen to arguments in favor of
abolishing the death penalty so far as they are based purely on grounds
of public expediency, although these arguments have never convinced me.
But inasmuch as, without hesitation, in the performance of duty, I have
again and again sent good and gallant and upright men to die, it seems
to me the height of a folly both mischievous and mawkish to contend
that criminals who have deserved death should nevertheless be allowed
to shirk it. No brave and good man can properly shirk death; and no
criminal who has earned death should be allowed to shirk it.
One of the best men with our regiment was the British military attache,
Captain Arthur Lee, an old friend. The other military attaches were
herded together at headquarters and saw little. Captain Lee, who had
known me in Washington, escaped and stayed with the regiment. We grew to
feel that he was one of us, and made him an honorary member. There were
two other honorary members. One was Richard Harding Davis, who was with
us continually and who performed valuable service on the fighting line.
The other was a regular officer, Lieutenant Parker, who had a battery
of gatlings. We were with this battery throughout the San Juan fighting,
and we grew to have the strongest admiration for Parker as a soldier and
the strongest liking for him as a man. During our brief campaign we were
closely and intimately thrown with various regular officers of the type
of Mills, Howze, and Parker. We felt not merely fondness for them as
officers and gentlemen, but pride in them as Americans. It is a
fine thing to feel that we have in the army and in the navy modest,
efficient, gallant gentlemen of this type, doing such disinterested work
for the honor of the flag and of the Nation. No American can overpay the
debt of gratitude we all of us owe to the officers and enlisted men of
the army and of the navy.
Of course with a regiment of our type there was much to learn both among
the officers and the men. There were all kinds of funny incidents. One
of my men, an ex-cow-puncher and former round-up cook, a very good
shot and rider, got into trouble on the way down on the transport.
He understood entirely that he had to obey the officers of his own
regiment, but, like so many volunteers, or at least like so many
volunteers of my regiment, he did not understand that this obligation
extended to officers of other regiments. One of the regular officers on
the transport ordered him to do something which he declined to do. When
the officer told him to consider himself under arrest, he responded
by offering to fight him for a trifling consideration. He was brought
before a court martial which sentenced him to a year's imprisonment at
hard labor with dishonorable discharge, and the major-general commanding
the division approved the sentence.
We were on the transport. There was no hard labor to do; and the prison
consisted of another cow-puncher who kept guard over him with his
carbine, evidently divided in his feelings as to whether he would like
most to shoot him or to let him go. When we landed, somebody told the
prisoner that I intended to punish him by keeping him with the baggage.
He at once came to me in great agitation, saying: "Colonel, they say
you're going to leave me with the baggage when the fight is on. Colonel,
if you do that, I will never show my face in Arizona again. Colonel, if
you will let me go to the front, I promise I will obey any one you say;
any one you say, Colonel," with the evident feeling that, after this
concession, I could not, as a gentleman, refuse his request. Accordingly
I answered: "Shields, there is no one in this regiment more entitled to
be shot than you are, and you shall go to the front." His gratitude was
great, and he kept repeating, "I'll never forget this, Colonel, never."
Nor did he. When we got very hard up, he would now and then manage to
get hold of some flour and sugar, and would cook a doughnut and bring it
round to me, and watch me with a delighted smile as I ate it. He behaved
extremely well in both fights, and after the second one I had him
formally before me and remitted his sentence--something which of course
I had not the slightest power to do, although at the time it seemed
natural and proper to me.
When we came to be mustered out, the regular officer who was doing the
mustering, after all the men had been discharged, finally asked me where
the prisoner was. I said, "What prisoner?" He said, "The prisoner,
the man who was sentenced to a year's imprisonment with hard labor
and dishonorable discharge." I said, "Oh! I pardoned him"; to which he
responded, "I beg your pardon; you did what?" This made me grasp the
fact that I had exceeded authority, and I could only answer, "Well, I
did pardon him, anyhow, and he has gone with the rest"; whereupon the
mustering-out officer sank back in his chair and remarked, "He was
sentenced by a court martial, and the sentence was approved by the
major-general commanding the division. You were a lieutenant-colonel,
and you pardoned him. Well, it was nervy, that's all I'll say."
The simple fact was that under the circumstances it was necessary for me
to enforce discipline and control the regiment, and therefore to reward
and punish individuals in whatever way the exigencies demanded. I often
explained to the men what the reasons for an order were, the first time
it was issued, if there was any trouble on their part in understanding
what they were required to do. They were very intelligent and very eager
to do their duty, and I hardly ever had any difficulty the second time
with them. If, however, there was the slightest willful shirking of duty
or insubordination, I punished instantly and mercilessly, and the whole
regiment cordially backed me up. To have punished men for faults and
shortcomings which they had no opportunity to know were such would have
been as unwise as to have permitted any of the occasional bad characters
to exercise the slightest license. It was a regiment which was sensitive
about its dignity and was very keenly alive to justice and to courtesy,
but which cordially approved absence of mollycoddling, insistence upon
the performance of duty, and summary punishment of wrong-doing.
In the final fighting at San Juan, when we captured one of the trenches,
Jack Greenway had seized a Spaniard, and shortly afterwards I found Jack
leading his captive round with a string. I told him to turn him over to
a man who had two or three other captives, so that they should all be
taken to the rear. It was the only time I ever saw Jack look aggrieved.
"Why, Colonel, can't I keep him for myself?" he asked, plaintively. I
think he had an idea that as a trophy of his bow and spear the Spaniard
would make a fine body servant.
One reason that we never had the slightest trouble in the regiment was
because, when we got down to hard pan, officers and men shared exactly
alike. It is all right to have differences in food and the like in times
of peace and plenty, when everybody is comfortable. But in really hard
times officers and men must share alike if the best work is to be done.
As long as I had nothing but two hardtacks, which was the allowance to
each man on the morning after the San Juan fight, no one could complain;
but if I had had any private little luxuries the men would very
naturally have realized keenly their own shortages.
Soon after the Guasimas fight we were put on short commons; and as I
knew that a good deal of food had been landed and was on the beach at
Siboney, I marched thirty or forty of the men down to see if I could not
get some and bring it up. I finally found a commissary officer, and he
asked me what I wanted, and I answered, anything he had. So he told me
to look about for myself. I found a number of sacks of beans, I think
about eleven hundred pounds, on the beach; and told the officer that
I wanted eleven hundred pounds of beans. He produced a book of
regulations, and showed me the appropriate section and subdivision which
announced that beans were issued only for the officers' mess. This did
me no good, and I told him so. He said he was sorry, and I answered that
he was not as sorry as I was. I then "studied on it," as Br'r Rabbit
would say, and came back with a request for eleven hundred pounds of
beans for the officers' mess. He said, "Why, Colonel, your officers
can't eat eleven hundred pounds of beans," to which I responded, "You
don't know what appetites my officers have." He then said he would send
the requisition to Washington. I told him I was quite willing, so long
as he gave me the beans. He was a good fellow, so we finally effected a
working compromise--he got the requisition and I got the beans, although
he warned me that the price would probably be deducted from my salary.
Under some regulation or other only the regular supply trains were
allowed to act, and we were supposed not to have any horses or mules in
the regiment itself. This was very pretty in theory; but, as a matter of
fact, the supply trains were not numerous enough. My men had a natural
genius for acquiring horseflesh in odd ways, and I continually found
that they had staked out in the brush various captured Spanish cavalry
horses and Cuban ponies and abandoned commissary mules. Putting these
together, I would organize a small pack train and work it industriously
for a day or two, until they learned about it at headquarters and
confiscated it. Then I would have to wait for a week or so until my
men had accumulated some more ponies, horses, and mules, the regiment
meanwhile living in plenty on what we had got before the train was
confiscated.
All of our men were good at accumulating horses, but within our own
ranks I think we were inclined to award the palm to our chaplain. There
was not a better man in the regiment than the chaplain, and there could
not have been a better chaplain for our men. He took care of the sick
and the wounded, he never spared himself, and he did every duty. In
addition, he had a natural aptitude for acquiring mules, which made some
admirer, when the regiment was disbanded, propose that we should have a
special medal struck for him, with, on the obverse, "A Mule passant and
Chaplain regardant." After the surrender of Santiago, a Philadelphia
clergyman whom I knew came down to General Wheeler's headquarters,
and after visiting him announced that he intended to call on the Rough
Riders, because he knew their colonel. One of General Wheeler's aides,
Lieutenant Steele, who liked us both individually and as a regiment,
and who appreciated some of our ways, asked the clergyman, after he
had announced that he knew Colonel Roosevelt, "But do you know Colonel
Roosevelt's regiment?" "No," said the clergyman. "Very well, then, let
me give you a piece of advice. When you go down to see the Colonel,
don't let your horse out of your sight; and if the chaplain is there,
don't get off the horse!"
We came back to Montauk Point and soon after were disbanded. We had been
in the service only a little over four months. There are no four months
of my life to which I look back with more pride and satisfaction. I
believe most earnestly and sincerely in peace, but as things are yet in
this world the nation that cannot fight, the people that have lost the
fighting edge, that have lost the virile virtues, occupy a position as
dangerous as it is ignoble. The future greatness of America in no small
degree depends upon the possession by the average American citizen of
the qualities which my men showed when they served under me at Santiago.
Moreover, there is one thing in connection with this war which it is
well that our people should remember, our people who genuinely love the
peace of righteousness, the peace of justice--and I would be ashamed to
be other than a lover of the peace of righteousness and of justice. The
true preachers of peace, who strive earnestly to bring nearer the
day when peace shall obtain among all peoples, and who really do help
forward the cause, are men who never hesitate to choose righteous war
when it is the only alternative to unrighteous peace. These are the men
who, like Dr. Lyman Abbott, have backed every genuine movement for peace
in this country, and who nevertheless recognized our clear duty to war
for the freedom of Cuba.
But there are other men who put peace ahead of righteousness, and who
care so little for facts that they treat fantastic declarations
for immediate universal arbitration as being valuable, instead of
detrimental, to the cause they profess to champion, and who seek to make
the United States impotent for international good under the pretense of
making us impotent for international evil. All the men of this kind, and
all of the organizations they have controlled, since we began our career
as a nation, all put together, have not accomplished one hundredth part
as much for both peace and righteousness, have not done one hundredth
part as much either for ourselves or for other peoples, as was
accomplished by the people of the United States when they fought the war
with Spain and with resolute good faith and common sense worked out the
solution of the problems which sprang from the war.
Our army and navy, and above all our people, learned some lessons from
the Spanish War, and applied them to our own uses. During the following
decade the improvement in our navy and army was very great; not in
material only, but also in personnel, and, above all, in the ability to
handle our forces in good-sized units. By 1908, when our battle fleet
steamed round the world, the navy had become in every respect as fit
a fighting instrument as any other navy in the world, fleet for fleet.
Even in size there was but one nation, England, which was completely
out of our class; and in view of our relations with England and all the
English-speaking peoples, this was of no consequence. Of our army,
of course, as much could not be said. Nevertheless the improvement in
efficiency was marked. Our artillery was still very inferior in training
and practice to the artillery arm of any one of the great Powers such
as Germany, France, or Japan--a condition which we only then began
to remedy. But the workmanlike speed and efficiency with which the
expedition of some 6000 troops of all arms was mobilized and transported
to Cuba during the revolution of 1908 showed that, as regards our
cavalry and infantry, we had at least reached the point where we could
assemble and handle in first-rate fashion expeditionary forces. This is
mighty little to boast of, for a Nation of our wealth and population;
it is not pleasant to compare it with the extraordinary feats of
contemporary Japan and the Balkan peoples; but, such as it is, it
represents a long stride in advance over conditions as they were in
1898.
APPENDIX A
A MANLY LETTER
There was a sequel to the "round robin" incident which caused a little
stir at the moment; Secretary Alger had asked me to write him freely
from time to time. Accordingly, after the surrender of Santiago, I wrote
him begging that the cavalry division might be put into the Porto Rican
fighting, preparatory to what we supposed would be the big campaign
against Havana in the fall. In the letter I extolled the merits of the
Rough Riders and of the Regulars, announcing with much complacency that
each of our regiments was worth "three of the National Guard regiments,
armed with their archaic black powder rifles."[*] Secretary Alger
believed, mistakenly, that I had made public the round robin, and
was naturally irritated, and I suddenly received from him a published
telegram, not alluding to the round robin incident, but quoting my
reference to the comparative merits of the cavalry regiments and the
National Guard regiments and rebuking me for it. The publication of the
extract from my letter was not calculated to help me secure the votes of
the National Guard if I ever became a candidate for office. However, I
did not mind the matter much, for I had at the time no idea of being
a candidate for anything--while in the campaign I ate and drank and
thought and dreamed regiment and nothing but regiment, until I got the
brigade, and then I devoted all my thoughts to handling the brigade.
Anyhow, there was nothing I could do about the matter.
[*] I quote this sentence from memory; it is substantially
correct.
When our transport reached Montauk Point, an army officer came aboard
and before doing anything else handed me a sealed letter from the
Secretary of War which ran as follows:--
WAR DEPARTMENT,
WASHINGTON,
August 10, 1898.
DEAR COL. ROOSEVELT:
You have been a most gallant officer and in the battle before Santiago
showed superb soldierly qualities. I would rather add to, than detract
from, the honors you have so fairly won, and I wish you all good things.
In a moment of aggravation under great stress of feeling, first because
I thought you spoke in a disparaging manner of the volunteers (probably
without intent, but because of your great enthusiasm for your own men)
and second that I believed your published letter would embarrass the
Department I sent you a telegram which with an extract from a private
letter of yours I gave to the press. I would gladly recall both if I
could, but unable to do that I write you this letter which I hope you
will receive in the same friendly spirit in which I send it. Come and
see me at a very early day. No one will welcome you more heartily than
I.
Yours very truly, (Signed) R. A. ALGER.
I thought this a manly letter, and paid no more heed to the incident;
and when I was President, and General Alger was Senator from Michigan,
he was my stanch friend and on most matters my supporter.
APPENDIX B
THE SAN JUAN FIGHT
The San Juan fight took its name from the San Juan Hill or hills--I do
not know whether the name properly belonged to a line of hills or to
only one hill.
To compare small things with large things, this was precisely as the
Battle of Gettysburg took its name from the village of Gettysburg, where
only a small part of the fighting was done; and the battle of Waterloo
from the village of Waterloo, where none of the fighting was done.
When it became the political interest of certain people to endeavor to
minimize my part in the Santiago fighting (which was merely like that of
various other squadron, battalion and regimental commanders) some of my
opponents laid great stress on the alleged fact that the cavalry did not
charge up San Juan Hill. We certainly charged some hills; but I did not
ask their names before charging them. To say that the Rough Riders and
the cavalry division, and among other people myself, were not in the
San Juan fight is precisely like saying that the men who made Pickett's
Charge, or the men who fought at Little Round Top and Culps Hill, were
not at Gettysburg; or that Picton and the Scotch Greys and the French
and English guards were not at Waterloo. The present Vice-President of
the United States in the campaign last year was reported in the press
as repeatedly saying that I was not in the San Juan fight. The documents
following herewith have been printed for many years, and were accessible
to him had he cared to know or to tell the truth.
These documents speak for themselves. The first is the official report
issued by the War Department. From this it will be seen that there
were in the Santiago fighting thirty infantry and cavalry regiments
represented. Six of these were volunteer, of which one was the Rough
Riders. The other twenty-four were regular regiments. The percentage of
loss of our regiment was about seven times as great as that of the
other five volunteer regiments. Of the twenty-four regular regiments,
twenty-two suffered a smaller percentage of loss than we suffered.
Two, the Sixth United States Infantry and the Thirteenth United States
Infantry, suffered a slightly greater percentage of loss--twenty-six per
cent and twenty-three per cent as against twenty-two per cent.
NOMINATIONS BY THE PRESIDENT
To be Colonel by Brevet
Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Roosevelt, First Volunteer Cavalry, for
gallantry in battle, Las Guasima, Cuba, June 24, 1898.
To be Brigadier-General by Brevet
Lieutenant-Colonel Theodore Roosevelt, First Volunteer Cavalry, for
gallantry in battle, Santiago de Cuba, July 1, 1898. (Nominated for
brevet colonel, to rank from June 24, 1898.)
FORT SAN JUAN, CUBA, July 17, 1898.
THE ADJUTANT-GENERAL UNITED STATES ARMY, Washington, D. C. (Through
military channels)
SIR: I have the honor to invite attention to the following list of
officers and enlisted men who specially distinguished themselves in the
action at Las Guasimas, Cuba, June 24, 1898.
These officers and men have been recommended for favorable consideration
by their immediate commanding officers in their respective reports, and
I would respectfully urge that favorable action be taken.
OFFICERS
. . . . .
In First United States Volunteer Cavalry--Colonel Leonard Wood,
Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt.
Respectfully, JOSEPH WHEELER, Major-General United States Volunteers,
Commanding.
HEADQUARTERS SECOND CAVALRY BRIGADE, CAMP NEAR SANTIAGO DE CUBA, CUBA,
June 29, 1898.
THE ADJUTANT-GENERAL CAVALRY DIVISION.
SIR: By direction of the major-general commanding the Cavalry Division,
I have the honor to submit the following report of the engagement of
a part of this brigade with the enemy at Guasimas, Cuba, on June 24th,
accompanied by detailed reports from the regimental and other commanders
engaged, and a list of the killed and wounded:
. . . . .
I cannot speak too highly of the efficient manner in which Colonel Wood
handled his regiment, and of his magnificent behavior on the field. The
conduct of Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt, as reported to me by my
two aides, deserves my highest commendation. Both Colonel Wood and
Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt disdained to take advantage of shelter or
cover from the enemy's fire while any of their men remained exposed to
it--an error of judgment, but happily on the heroic side.
. . . . .
Very respectfully, S. B. M. YOUNG, Brigadier General United States
Volunteers, Commanding.
HEADQUARTERS FIRST DIVISION SECOND ARMY CORPS CAMP MACKENZIE, GA.,
December 30, 1898.
ADJUTANT-GENERAL, Washington, D. C.
SIR: I have the honor to recommend Hon. Theodore Roosevelt, late Colonel
First United States Volunteer Cavalry, for a medal of honor, as a reward
for conspicuous gallantry at the battle of San Juan, Cuba, on July 1,
1898.
Colonel Roosevelt by his example and fearlessness inspired his men, and
both at Kettle Hill and the ridge known as San Juan he led his command
in person. I was an eye-witness of Colonel Roosevelt's action.
As Colonel Roosevelt has left the service, a Brevet Commission is of no
particular value in his case.
Very respectfully, SAMUEL S. SUMNER, Major-General United States
Volunteers.
WEST POINT, N. Y., December 17, 1898.
MY DEAR COLONEL: I saw you lead the line up the first hill--you were
certainly the first officer to reach the top--and through your efforts,
and your personally jumping to the front, a line more or less thin, but
strong enough to take it, was led by you to the San Juan or first hill.
In this your life was placed in extreme jeopardy, as you may recall,
and as it proved by the number of dead left in that vicinity. Captain
Stevens, then of the Ninth Cavalry, now of the Second Cavalry, was
with you, and I am sure he recalls your gallant conduct. After the line
started on the advance from the first hill, I did not see you until our
line was halted, under a most galling fire, at the extreme front, where
you afterwards entrenched. I spoke to you there and gave instructions
from General Sumner that the position was to be held and that there
would be no further advance till further orders. You were the senior
officer there, took charge of the line, scolded me for having my horse
so high upon the ridge; at the same time you were exposing yourself most
conspicuously, while adjusting the line, for the example was necessary,
as was proved when several colored soldiers--about eight or ten,
Twenty-fourth Infantry, I think--started at a run to the rear to assist
a wounded colored soldier, and you drew your revolver and put a short
and effective stop to such apparent stampede--it quieted them. That
position was hot, and now I marvel at your escaping there. . . . Very
sincerely yours, ROBERT L. HOWZE.
WEST POINT, N. Y., December 17, 1898.
I hereby certify that on July 1, 1898, Colonel (then Lieutenant-Colonel)
Theodore Roosevelt, First Volunteer Cavalry, distinguished himself
through the action, and on two occasions during the battle when I was an
eye-witness, his conduct was most conspicuous and clearly distinguished
above other men, as follows:
1. At the base of San Juan, or first hill, there was a strong wire
fence, or entanglement, at which the line hesitated under a galling
fire, and where the losses were severe. Colonel Roosevelt jumped through
the fence and by his enthusiasm, his example and courage succeeded in
leading to the crest of the hill a line sufficiently strong to capture
it. In this charge the Cavalry Brigade suffered its greatest loss,
and the Colonel's life was placed in extreme jeopardy, owing to the
conspicuous position he took in leading the line, and being the first
to reach the crest of that hill, while under heavy fire of the enemy at
close range.
2. At the extreme advanced position occupied by our lines, Colonel
Roosevelt found himself the senior, and under his instructions from
General Sumner to hold that position. He displayed the greatest bravery
and placed his life in extreme jeopardy by unavoidable exposure to
severe fire while adjusting and strengthening the line, placing the men
in positions which afforded best protection, etc., etc. His conduct
and example steadied the men, and on one occasion by severe but not
unnecessary measures prevented a small detachment from stampeding to the
rear. He displayed the most conspicuous gallantry, courage and coolness,
in performing extraordinarily hazardous duty.
ROBERT L. HOWZE, Captain A. A. G., U. S. V. (First Lieutenant Sixth
United States Cavalry.)
TO THE ADJUTANT-GENERAL UNITED STATES ARMY, Washington, D. C.
HEADQUARTERS UNITED STATES MILITARY ACADEMY, WEST POINT, N. Y., April 5,
1899.
LIEUTENANT-COLONEL W. H. CARTER, Assistant Adjutant-General United
States Army, Washington, D. C.
SIR: In compliance with the request, contained in your letter of April
30th, of the Board convened to consider the awarding of brevets, medals
of honor, etc., for the Santiago Campaign, that I state any facts,
within my knowledge as Adjutant-General of the Brigade in which
Colonel Theodore Roosevelt served, to aid the Board in determining, in
connection with Colonel Roosevelt's application for a medal of honor,
whether his conduct at Santiago was such as to distinguish him above
others, I have the honor to submit the following:
My duties on July 1, 1898, brought me in constant observation of and
contact with Colonel Roosevelt from early morning until shortly before
the climax of the assault of the Cavalry Division on the San Juan
Hill--the so-called Kettle Hill. During this time, while under the
enemy's artillery fire at El Poso, and while on the march from El Poso
by the San Juan ford to the point from which his regiment moved to the
assault--about two miles, the greater part under fire--Colonel Roosevelt
was conspicuous above any others I observed in his regiment in the
zealous performance of duty, in total disregard of his personal danger
and in his eagerness to meet the enemy. At El Poso, when the enemy
opened on that place with artillery fire, a shrapnel bullet grazed and
bruised one of Colonel Roosevelt's wrists. The incident did not lessen
his hazardous exposure, but he continued so exposed until he had placed
his command under cover. In moving to the assault of San Juan Hill,
Colonel Roosevelt was most conspicuously brave, gallant and indifferent
to his own safety. He, in the open, led his regiment; no officer
could have set a more striking example to his men or displayed greater
intrepidity.
Very respectfully, Your obedient servant, A. L. MILLS, Colonel United
States Army, Superintendent.
HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF SANTIAGO DE CUBA, SANTIAGO DE CUBA, December
30, 1898.
TO THE ADJUTANT-GENERAL, UNITED STATES ARMY, Washington, D. C.
SIR: I have the honor to make the following statement relative to
the conduct of Colonel Theodore Roosevelt, late First United States
Volunteer Cavalry, during the assault upon San Juan Hill, July 1, 1898.
I have already recommended this officer for a medal of honor, which I
understand has been denied him, upon the ground that my previous letter
was too indefinite. I based my recommendation upon the fact that Colonel
Roosevelt, accompanied only by four or five men, led a very desperate
and extremely gallant charge on San Juan Hill, thereby setting a
splendid example to the troops and encouraging them to pass over the
open country intervening between their position and the trenches of the
enemy. In leading this charge, he started off first, as he supposed,
with quite a following of men, but soon discovered that he was alone. He
then returned and gathered up a few men and led them to the charge, as
above stated. The charge in itself was an extremely gallant one, and the
example set a most inspiring one to the troops in that part of the line,
and while it is perfectly true that everybody finally went up the hill
in good style, yet there is no doubt that the magnificent example set by
Colonel Roosevelt had a very encouraging effect and had great weight in
bringing up the troops behind him. During the assault, Colonel Roosevelt
was the first to reach the trenches in his part of the line and killed
one of the enemy with his own hand.
I earnestly recommend that the medal be conferred upon Colonel
Roosevelt, for I believe that he in every way deserves it, and that
his services on the day in question were of great value and of a most
distinguished character.
Very respectfully, LEONARD WOOD, Major-General, United States
Volunteers. Commanding Department of Santiago de Cuba.
HUNTSVILLE, ALA., January 4, 1899.
THE ADJUTANT-GENERAL, UNITED STATES ARMY, Washington, D. C.
SIR: I have the honor to recommend that a "Congressional Medal of Honor"
be given to Theodore Roosevelt (late Colonel First Volunteer Cavalry),
for distinguished conduct and conspicuous bravery in command of his
regiment in the charge on San Juan Hill, Cuba, July 1, 1898.
In compliance with G. O. 135, A. G. O. 1898, I enclose my certificate
showing my personal knowledge of Colonel Roosevelt's conduct.
Very respectfully, C. J. STEVENS, Captain Second Cavalry.
I hereby certify that on July 1, 1898, at the battle of San Juan, Cuba,
I witnessed Colonel (then Lieutenant-Colonel) Roosevelt, First Volunteer
Cavalry, United States of America, mounted, leading his regiment in
the charge on San Juan. By his gallantry and strong personality he
contributed most materially to the success of the charge of the Cavalry
Division up San Juan Hill.
Colonel Roosevelt was among the first to reach the crest of the hill,
and his dashing example, his absolute fearlessness and gallant leading
rendered his conduct conspicuous and clearl distinguished above other
men.
C. J. STEVENS, Captain Second Cavalry. (Late First Lieutenant Ninth
Cavalry.)
YOUNG'S ISLAND, S. C., December 28, 1898.
TO THE ADJUTANT-GENERAL, UNITED STATES ARMY. Washington, D. C.
SIR: Believing that information relating to superior conduct on the part
of any of the higher officers who participated in the Spanish-American
War (and which information may not have been given) would be appreciated
by the Department over which you preside, I have the honor to call your
attention to the part borne by Colonel Theodore Roosevelt, of the late
First United States Volunteer Cavalry, in the battle of July 1st last.
I do this not only because I think you ought to know, but because his
regiment as a whole were very proud of his splendid actions that day
and believe they call for that most coveted distinction of the American
officer, the Medal of Honor. Held in support, he brought his regiment,
at exactly the right time, not only up to the line of regulars, but went
through them and headed, on horseback, the charge on Kettle Hill; this
being done on his own initiative, the regulars as well as his own men
following. He then headed the charge on the next hill, both regulars and
the First United States Volunteer Cavalry following. He was so near
the intrenchments on the second hill, that he shot and killed with a
revolver one of the enemy before they broke completely. He then led the
cavalry on the chain of hills overlooking Santiago, where he remained in
charge of all the cavalry that was at the extreme front for the rest of
that day and night. His unhesitating gallantry in taking the initiative
against intrenchments lined by men armed with rapid fire guns certainly
won him the highest consideration and admiration of all who witnessed
his conduct throughout that day.
What I here write I can bear witness to from personally having seen.
Very respectfully, M. J. JENKINS, Major Late First United States
Cavalry.
PRESCOTT, A. T., December 25, 1898.
I was Colonel Roosevelt's orderly at the battle of San Juan Hill, and
from that time on until our return to Montauk Point. I was with him all
through the fighting, and believe I was the only man who was always with
him, though during part of the time Lieutenants Ferguson and Greenwald
were also close to him. He led our regiment forward on horseback until
he came to the men of the Ninth Cavalry lying down. He led us through
these and they got up and joined us. He gave the order to charge on
Kettle Hill, and led us on horseback up the hill, both Rough Riders and
the Ninth Cavalry. He was the first on the hill, I being very nearly
alongside of him. Some Spanish riflemen were coming out of the
intrenchments and he killed one with his revolver. He took the men on
to the crest of the hill and bade them begin firing on the blockhouse on
the hill to our left, the one the infantry were attacking. When he
took it, he gave the order to charge, and led the troops on Kettle Hill
forward against the blockhouse on our front. He then had charge of all
the cavalry on the hills overlooking Santiago, where we afterwards dug
our trenches. He had command that afternoon and night, and for the rest
of the time commanded our regiment at this point.
Yours very truly, H. P. BARDSHAR.
CAMBRIDGE, MD., March 27, 1902.
THEODORE ROOSEVELT, President of the United States. Washington, D. C.
DEAR SIR: At your request, I send you the following extracts from my
diary, and from notes taken on the day of the assault on San Juan. I
kept in my pocket a small pad on which incidents were noted daily from
the landing until the surrender. On the day of the fight notes were
taken just before Grimes fired his first gun, just after the third reply
from the enemy--when we were massed in the road about seventy paces
from Grimes' guns, and when I was beginning to get scared and to think
I would be killed--at the halt just before you advanced, and under the
shelter of the hills in the evening. Each time that notes were taken,
the page was put in an envelope addressed to my wife. At the first
chance they were mailed to her, and on my arrival in the United States
the story of the fight, taken from these notes, was entered in the diary
I keep in a book. I make this lengthy explanation that you may see that
everything put down was fresh in my memory.
I quote from my diary: "The tension on the men was great. Suddenly a
line of men appeared coming from our right. They were advancing through
the long grass, deployed as skirmishers and were under fire. At
their head, or rather in front of them and leading them, rode Colonel
Roosevelt. He was very conspicuous, mounted as he was. The men were the
'Rough Riders,' so-called. I heard some one calling to them not to fire
into us, and seeing Colonel Carrol, reported to him, and was told to go
out and meet them, and caution them as to our position, we being between
them and the enemy. I did so, speaking to Colonel Roosevelt. I also
told him we were under orders not to advance, and asked him if he had
received any orders. He replied that he was going to charge the Spanish
trenches. I told this to Colonel Carrol, and to Captain Dimmick, our
squadron commander. A few moments after the word passed down that our
left (Captain Taylor) was about to charge. Captain McBlain called out,
'we must go in with those troops; we must support Taylor.' I called this
to Captain Dimmick, and he gave the order to assault."
"The cheer was taken up and taken up again, on the left, and in the
distance it rolled on and on. And so we started. Colonel Roosevelt, of
the Rough Riders, started the whole movement on the left, which was the
first advance of the assault."
The following is taken from my notes and was hastily jotted down on the
field: "The Rough Riders came in line--Colonel Roosevelt said he would
assault--Taylor joined them with his troop--McBlain called to Dimmick,
'let us go, we must go to support them.' Dimmick said all right--and so,
with no orders, we went in."
I find many of my notes are illegible from perspiration. My authority
for saying Taylor went in with you, "joined with his troop" was the word
passed to me and repeated to Captain Dimmick that Taylor was about to
charge with you. I could not see his troop. I have not put it in my
diary, but in another place I have noted that Colonel Carrol, who was
acting as brigade commander, told me to ask you if you had any orders.
I have the honor to be, Very respectfully, Your obedient servant,
HENRY ANSON BARBER, Captain Twenty-Eighth Infantry, (formerly of Ninth
Cavalry.)
HEADQUARTERS PACIFIC DIVISION, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL., May 11, 1905.
DEAR MR. PRESIDENT: As some discussion has arisen in the public prints
regarding the battle of San Juan, Cuba, July 1, 1898, and your personal
movements during that day have been the subject of comment, it may not
be amiss in me to state some facts coming under my personal observation
as Commanding General of the Cavalry Division of which your regiment
formed a part. It will, perhaps, be advisable to show first how I came
to be in command, in order that my statement may have due weight as an
authoritative statement of facts: I was placed in command of the
Cavalry Division on the afternoon of June 30th by General Shafter; the
assignment was made owing to the severe illness of General Wheeler, who
was the permanent commander of said Division. Brigadier General Young,
who commanded the Second Cavalry Brigade, of which your regiment--the
First Volunteer Cavalry--formed a part, was also very ill, and I found
it necessary to relieve him from command and place Colonel Wood, of
the Rough Riders, in command of the Brigade; this change placed you in
command of your regiment.
The Division moved from its camp on the evening of June 30th, and
bivouacked at and about El Poso. I saw you personally in the vicinity
of El Poso, about 8 A.M., July 1st. I saw you again on the road leading
from El Poso to the San Juan River; you were at the head of your
regiment, which was leading the Second Brigade, and immediately behind
the rear regiment of the First Brigade. My orders were to turn to the
right at San Juan River and take up a line along that stream and try and
connect with General Lawton, who was to engage the enemy at El Caney. On
reaching the river we came under the fire of the Spanish forces posted
on San Juan Ridge and Kettle Hill. The First Brigade was faced to the
front in line as soon as it had cleared the road, and the Second Brigade
was ordered to pass in rear of the first and face to the front when
clear of the First Brigade. This movement was very difficult, owing to
the heavy undergrowth, and the regiments became more or less tangled up,
but eventually the formation was accomplished, and the Division stood
in an irregular line along the San Juan River, the Second Brigade on
the right. We were subjected to a heavy fire from the forces on San
Juan Ridge and Kettle Hill; our position was untenable, and it became
necessary to assault the enemy or fall back. Kettle Hill was immediately
in front of the Cavalry, and it was determined to assault that hill. The
First Brigade was ordered forward, and the Second Brigade was ordered
to support the attack; personally, I accompanied a portion of the Tenth
Cavalry, Second Brigade, and the Rough Riders were to the right. This
brought your regiment to the right of the house which was at the summit
of the hill. Shortly after I reached the crest of the hill you came
to me, accompanied, I think, by Captain C. J. Stevens, of the Ninth
Cavalry. We were then in a position to see the line of intrenchments
along San Juan Ridge, and could see Kent's Infantry Division engaged on
our left, and Hawkins' assault against Fort San Juan. You asked me for
permission to move forward and assault San Juan Ridge. I gave you the
order in person to move forward, and I saw you move forward and assault
San Juan Ridge with your regiment and portions of the First and Tenth
Cavalry belonging to your Brigade. I held a portion of the Second
Brigade as a reserve on Kettle Hill, not knowing what force the enemy
might have in reserve behind the ridge. The First Brigade also moved
forward and assaulted the ridge to the right of Fort San Juan. There
was a small lake between Kettle Hill and San Juan Ridge, and in moving
forward your command passed to the right of this lake. This brought
you opposite a house on San Juan Ridge--not Fort San Juan proper, but a
frame house surrounded by an earthwork. The enemy lost a number of men
at this point, whose bodies lay in the trenches. Later in the day I rode
along the line, and, as I recall it, a portion of the Tenth Cavalry was
immediately about this house, and your regiment occupied an irregular
semi-circular position along the ridge and immediately to the right of
the house. You had pickets out to your front; and several hundred yards
to your front the Spaniards had a heavy outpost occupying a house, with
rifle pits surrounding it. Later in the day, and during the following
day, the various regiments forming the Division were rearranged and
brought into tactical formation, the First Brigade on the left and
immediately to the right of Fort San Juan, and the Second Brigade on the
right of the First.
This was the position occupied by the Cavalry Division until the final
surrender of the Spanish forces, on July 17, 1898.
In conclusion allow me to say, that I saw you, personally, at about 8
A.M., at El Poso; later, on the road to San Juan River; later, on the
summit of Kettle Hill, immediately after its capture by the Cavalry
Division. I saw you move forward with your command to assault San Juan
Ridge, and I saw you on San Juan Ridge, where we visited your line
together, and you explained to me the disposition of your command.
I am, sir, with much respect, Your obedient servant, SAMUEL S. SUMNER,
Major-General United States Army.