The landing of the Rough Riders and many other commands was made at
Daiquiri, a small settlement on the coast east of Santiago Harbor. The
_Yucatan_ got closer to the shore than most of the other transports, and
the men lost no time in disembarking, taking with them two Colt's
automatic guns and a dynamite gun of which they had become possessed. As
there had not been transports enough, only the officers' horses had been
brought along. These were thrown into the water and made to swim ashore.
Theodore Roosevelt had two horses, but one was drowned.

It was important that the landing should be guarded, and the war-ships
sent in some shot and shell to dislodge any Spaniards who might be in
the vicinity. But none showed themselves, and soon nearly all of the
soldiers were ashore, either at Daiquiri or at a landing a short
distance farther westward. No enemy was in sight, and the only persons
who appeared were some Cubans, soldiers and civilians, who wanted but
one thing, food.

The Rough Riders had been put into a brigade commanded by General S.B.M.
Young. There were two of these brigades, and it is worth noting that
they formed a division under the command of Major-General Joseph
Wheeler, who had in years gone by fought so gallantly on the side of the
Confederacy. Now, as brave as of old, he was fighting for Old Glory, the
one banner of the North and the South alike.

As the Rough Riders landed, they were marched up the beach, and here
they went into temporary camp,--an easy matter, since each soldier
carried his outfit with him, or, at least, as much as he could get of
what belonged to him. Theodore Roosevelt had his weapons and ammunition,
a mackintosh and a toothbrush, certainly much less than he had carried
even when roughing it in the Bad Lands of the West.

As soon as the larger portion of the army was landed, General Lawton--he
who was afterward to give his life for his flag in the Philippines--threw
out a strong detachment on the Santiago road to the westward, and also
detachments on the roads to the north and east.

"On to Santiago!" was the cry. And many were for pushing forward without
delay. But the transports had still to unload their baggage, and word
did not reach the Rough Riders to move on until the afternoon of the day
after landing.

It was a rocky, uneven country, with much brushwood and jungles of trees
and vines. It had rained, but now the sun came out fiercely, and the
Rough Riders (riders in name only, for only the officers were on
horseback) suffered greatly through being clad in winter uniform.

"It was a tough and tiresome march," said one who was there. "The air
just quivered with heat, and many of the boys felt like throwing half of
their clothing away. Whenever we reached a drinking place, the crowd
would swarm around for water like a lot of bees.

"General Lawton had his outposts pretty well advanced. Our commander,
old General Wheeler, was just as anxious to make a showing, and he
ordered General Young to push on with the Rough Riders and some other
troops. So away we went, with Colonel Wood at our head, and
Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt in command of one squadron and Major Brodie
in command of the other. In some spots the road was frightful, full of
mud-holes, with big land crabs crawling around in all directions, and
with the trailing vines full of poisonous spiders. We didn't know but
that the woods might be full of Spaniards, and we were on the alert to
give the Dons as good as they sent, should they show themselves."

By nightfall the Rough Riders reached the little village of Siboney
without having met the enemy. Here they went into camp in the midst of a
heavy thunder-storm in which every soldier and officer was drenched to
the skin. Fires could scarcely be lighted, and it was not until the
storm had partly cleared away that the cooks could prepare anything to
eat. Surely being a soldier was not all glory after all.

It had been learned that a portion of the Spanish army was less than
four miles away, and General Young was ordered by General Wheeler to
move forward at daybreak and engage the enemy. Colonel Wood received
orders to move the Rough Riders by a trail over a hill, beyond which the
country sloped toward the bay and the city of Santiago.

The first encounter with the enemy occurred at a place called La Guasima
(or Las Guasimas), so called on account of trees of that name growing in
the vicinity. Here the Spaniards had rifle-pits and mounds of earth to
shelter them and had likewise the sugar-house of a plantation. They had
been watching for the coming of the _Americanos_ eagerly, and were
determined to give our soldiers a lesson not to be forgotten. They knew
that our army had not been in active warfare for years, and felt certain
that they would soon be able to make the "paper" soldiers retreat.

The Rough Riders found the way led up a steep hill, and the pace was so
fast that before the firing line was reached some men fell out from
exhaustion. Theodore Roosevelt was at the head of the first squadron and
did his best to urge those under him forward. There was an advance
guard, led by some men under Sergeant Hamilton Fish, and Captain
Capron's troop, and soon a crash of firearms notified all that a fight
was on.

Orders were at once issued to fill the magazines of the guns, and this
was done. Then, while some troops moved to the left of the trail,
Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt was ordered to take three troops to the
right. Here the jungle was heavy, and no sooner had the Rough Riders
advanced than the Spaniards opened fire upon them. In speaking of the
opening of this fight, Mr. Roosevelt himself writes:--

"The effect of the smokeless powder (used by the enemy) was remarkable.
The air seemed full of the rustling sound of the Mauser bullets, for the
Spaniards knew the trails by which we were advancing, and opened heavily
on our position. But they themselves were entirely invisible. The jungle
covered everything, and not the faintest trace of smoke was to be seen
in any direction, to indicate from whence the bullets came."

It was certainly a trying time--to stand up and be shot at without being
able to return the compliment. Roosevelt and all the other leaders knew
that this would not do, and at a great risk they continued to advance,
until some Spaniards were at last discovered across a valley to the
right of where the troops under Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt were
located.

"There they are!" was the cry. "Forward and at 'em, boys! Down with the
Dons!" Without delay some sharpshooters fired on the Spaniards, and then
the regular troops opened up, and at last the Spaniards ran from cover.

Bullets were now flying in all directions, and both sides were making
their shots tell. The Americans had but scant protection, and it was not
long before a number of them fell. Some bullets came close to Theodore
Roosevelt, and one hit a palm tree near where he was standing, filling
his left eye and ear with the dust and splinters. Had that Mauser bullet
come a few inches closer, the man who was destined to become the future
President of our country might have been killed on the spot.

In the midst of the skirmish--for the conflict proved to be nothing
more--there was a report that Colonel Wood was dead, and Theodore
Roosevelt took it upon himself to restore the fighting line of Rough
Riders to order. But happily the report proved false; and a little while
after this the skirmish came to an end, and both Spaniards and Americans
betook themselves to positions of greater safety. In this skirmish,
brief as it was, the Rough Riders lost eight men killed and nearly forty
wounded.




CHAPTER XV

ALONG THE JUNGLE TRAIL--FORDING THE RIVER--OPENING OF THE BATTLE OF SAN
JUAN HILL--BRAVERY OF THE ROUGH RIDERS--PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF THEODORE
ROOSEVELT DURING THE BATTLE


Taken as a whole, the skirmish at La Guasima was quite an important one,
for it showed the Spaniards that our soldiers were bound to advance upon
Santiago, be the cost what it might.

More than this, it showed that Theodore Roosevelt was brave under fire.
During the skirmish he paid but scant attention to his own personal
safety. He went wherever he thought he was needed, and the fact that
Mauser bullets were flying about in all directions did not daunt him.

"He was about as cool a man as I ever saw in a fight," said one old
soldier. "He did all he could to encourage the men, and had a kind word
for every man he ran across who was wounded. Once, in the thickest of
the brush, he grabbed up a gun and began to shoot with us, and I reckon
he fired as straight as anybody there, for he had had lots of practice
while hunting."

The Spaniards had been driven from their pits and from the sugar-house
of the plantation, and now took good care to keep out of sight.
Picket-guards were thrown out by the officers of the army, and those who
had been in the fight took a much-needed rest, and looked after the dead
and wounded. There was certainly a touching scene at the temporary
hospital, where one soldier started to sing "My Country, 'tis of Thee,"
and many others joined in. On the following morning the dead were
buried, the men gathering around the one common grave to sing "Rock of
Ages" in a manner that brought tears to the eyes of many.

From La Guasima the Rough Riders moved to the bank of a small stream in
the neighborhood. Part of the army was ahead of them and the rest
behind, and for several days nothing unusual occurred. But during that
time General Young caught the fever, whereupon Colonel Wood had to take
charge of the brigade, and Lieutenant-Colonel Roosevelt took command of
the Rough Riders.

It was now the end of June, and the weather was anything but agreeable.
When the rain did not come down in torrents, the sun shone with a glare
and a heat that was terrific. As said before, the uniforms of the Rough
Riders were heavy, and much clothing had to be cast aside as unfit for
use. To add to the discomfort, rations that were promised failed to
appear, so that a good square meal was almost unknown.

"This will not do; the men must have enough to eat, even if I have to
buy it for them," said Acting Colonel Roosevelt, and made two trips down
to the seacoast in search of beans, tomatoes, and other things to eat.
Here he was informed that he could only buy stuff meant for the
officers.

"All right; I'll buy the things for the officers," he answered, and
purchased as much as they would allow. When he got back, he turned the
food over to the officers, but saw to it that they gave their men a fair
share.

"It was a kindness none of his men ever forgot," said a soldier who was
there. "It wasn't any of his business to buy the grub,--the commissary
department had to supply it free,--but he knew we might starve while
the department was getting itself straightened out and ready to do the
right thing. Before he went on a hunt for food, all we had was salt
pork, hardtack, and coffee, and some of the stuff wasn't fit to put in
your mouth." And this testimony was the testimony of scores of others.

The Spaniards were strongly intrenched upon the outskirts of Santiago,
and as it was a rough, hilly country, with many shallow streams and much
jungle, it was hard for the American army to advance. It was General
Shafter's idea to form a grand semicircle around Santiago, starting from
El Caney on the north, and running in an irregular line to Aguadores on
the south. Throughout this territory the Spaniards had done everything
possible to hinder the advance of our troops. Barbed wire was strung in
many directions, and often the brushwood would conceal dangerous
pitfalls, so that any advance had to be made with great caution.

The attack upon the Spanish lines began on July 1, and the fighting took
place in several quarters at once, but was unusually heavy at El Caney
and at San Juan Hill. At El Caney the heroic General Lawton was in
command, and fought as gallantly as he afterward did in the Philippines.
Some of the charges were terrific, and will ever be remembered by those
who participated in them.

The Rough Riders struck camp and moved along the trail on the last day
of June. It was as hot as ever, with no sign of rain. The trail was
filled with troops and provision wagons, and the progress, consequently,
was slow.

"Let us get into the fight!" was the cry heard on every side. "Don't
keep us waiting any longer."

"Keep cool," said one of the officers. "You'll get all the fighting you
want soon." And so it proved.

At a little after eight o'clock in the evening the Rough Riders found
themselves on El Poso Hill, and here the whole brigade to which they
were attached went into camp.

"It wasn't much of a camp," said one who was there. "We just threw out a
strong picket-guard and went to sleep on our arms, and glad of it, after
that day in the broiling sun. We had had to ford some pretty muddy
streams, and all of us were water and mud up to our knees. But everybody
was as enthusiastic to fight as ever."

At sunrise the battle opened at El Caney, and the Rough Riders could
hear the booming of cannon. At once all was activity, and the men
prepared to move ahead at a moment's notice.

Acting Colonel Roosevelt was with Colonel Wood at the time, and both
were listening to the roar of the artillery.

"I wish we could move--" began Colonel Wood, when, of a sudden, both he
and Theodore Roosevelt heard a strange humming sound in the air. Then
came the explosion of a shrapnel shell over their heads, and both leaped
to their feet.

"This is getting warm!" cried Theodore Roosevelt, and ran toward his
horse, when boom! came another explosion, and one of the bullets fell
upon his wrist, making, as he himself says, "a bump about as big as a
hickory nut." This same shell, he adds, wounded four of the men under
him and two or three regulars, one of whom lost his leg. Certainly
another providential escape on the part of the future President.

Without loss of time Theodore Roosevelt ordered his troops into the
underbrush, and here, for the time being, they were safe. On account of
the smokeless powder they used, the Spanish batteries could not be
precisely located, so our own artillery were at a slight disadvantage.

But now the blood of the Americans was fully aroused, and soon came an
order for a general advance,--something that was hailed with wild
delight by the Rough Riders.

"Hurrah, now we'll show 'em what the Yankees can do!" was the cry. "Down
with the Dons! Three cheers for Uncle Sam!"

The Rough Riders had to ford the river, and while they were doing this,
a balloon that had been used for observations came down in that vicinity
and attracted the attention of the Spanish sharpshooters. The firing was
now heavy on all sides, and many a gallant soldier went down to rise no
more.

Then came another wait of an hour, during which the Rough Riders rested
in a hollow leading up from the river. Again there was grumbling. With
so much fighting on all sides, why could they not advance?

"We'll get our turn," said Theodore Roosevelt. And soon after a staff
officer dashed up with orders to move forward and support the cavalry of
the regular army on the hills in front.

"Now to the front!" was the cry. "Down with the Dons!" And away went
troop after troop on the double-quick, with Acting Colonel Roosevelt
leading them. Shot and shell were hurling themselves through the air in
all directions, and on all sides could be heard the shrieks and groans
of the dead and the dying. It was a time long to be remembered. Men went
down in all directions, and with them not a few officers. It was so hot
that Roosevelt's orderly was prostrated from the heat and afterward
died. Roosevelt summoned another Rough Rider, and had just finished
giving the man some orders when the soldier pitched forward upon his
commander, killed by a bullet through the throat.

As the troops advanced, Theodore Roosevelt urged his men forward and
told them to do their best, to which they responded with a cheer. He was
on horseback at the time, and soon came across a man lying in the shade,
probably overcome by the heat. He started to speak to the Rough Rider
when a bullet hit the fellow and killed him on the spot.

"I suppose that bullet was meant for me," says Mr. Roosevelt, in writing
of this incident. "I, who was on horseback in the open, was unhurt, and
the man lying flat on the ground in the cover beside me was killed."

The fight had now centred around the possession of San Juan Hill, upon
which was located a Spanish blockhouse. The bullets were flying as
thickly as ever, when Roosevelt was ordered to advance in support of
another regiment. As the Rough Riders reached the spot where the other
regiment was, they found the men lying down awaiting orders.

"I am ordered to support your regiment," said Theodore Roosevelt to the
first captain he met.

"We are awaiting orders to advance," answered the captain of the
regulars.

"In my opinion we cannot take these hills by firing at them," returned
the commander of the Rough Riders. "We must rush them."

"My orders are to keep my men where they are."

"Where is your Colonel?"

"I don't know."

"Well, if he isn't here, then I am the ranking officer, and I give the
order to charge," came quickly and positively from Theodore Roosevelt.

"Well, sir,--I--I have orders from our Colonel--" began the captain of
the regulars.

"If you won't charge, let my men pass through, sir," cut in the Acting
Colonel of the Rough Riders, and he ordered his men to move to the
front. This was too much for the regulars, and up they sprang with
shouts and yells, and Rough Riders and regulars went up San Juan Hill
together. Roosevelt was on horseback as before, but at a barbed-wire
fence he leaped to the ground, swung his hat in the air, and joined his
men on foot.

The fight was now at its fiercest, and men were being mowed down in all
directions. But the fever of battle was in the veins of all the American
soldiers, and nothing could stop them. Up the hill they went, loading
and firing at random, and making as many shots as possible tell. The
Spaniards were in retreat, and soon Old Glory was planted in several
places. Some of the leading officers had been shot, and Theodore
Roosevelt found himself at one time in command of five regiments, and
doing his best to keep them in military order. Strange as it may seem,
with bullets flying all around him, he remained unharmed, saving for
some slight scratches which, he tells us, "were of no consequence."

With the top of the hill gained, the American soldiers could get a
distant glimpse of Santiago, several miles away, and some wanted to move
still farther forward. But the Spaniards had strong intrenchments to
fall back upon, and it was deemed best to "let well enough alone."
Accordingly the American line was made as strong as possible, and by
nightfall the battle was at an end, and the Rough Riders were told to
hold the hill and intrench, and they did so. In the blockhouse they
found some food belonging to some Spanish officers, and upon this they
feasted after their well-earned victory.




CHAPTER XVI

RESULTS OF THE FIGHT--LIFE IN THE TRENCHES--THE SPANISH FLEET IN
SANTIAGO HARBOR--ANOTHER GREAT NAVAL VICTORY--THE ROUGH RIDERS AND THE
SPANISH GUERILLAS


The fight had been a hard and heavy one. The Rough Riders had gone into
the engagement just 490 strong, and of that number 89 were killed or
wounded. The total loss to the Americans was 1071 killed and wounded.
The loss to the Spanish was also heavy, but the exact figures will
probably never be known.

Utterly tired out with their marching and fighting, the Rough Riders
intrenched as best they could, cared for their wounded and dead, and
then dropped down to get a well-earned rest. The night was misty and
cold, and many who had been bathed in perspiration suffered accordingly.
Theodore Roosevelt had a blanket taken from the Spanish, and in this he
rolled himself, and slept with others of his command.

At three o'clock in the morning came an unexpected alarm. The Spanish
skirmishers were out in force, trying to drive the Americans back. But
there was no heavy attack, and presently all became as quiet as before.

"They'll not give up yet," said one of the officers of the Rough Riders.
"They mean to retake this hill if they can."

Just at daybreak the Spaniards opened the attack on San Juan Hill once
more. Theodore Roosevelt was resting under a little tree when a shrapnel
shell burst close by, killing or wounding five men of the command. He at
once ordered the eight troops under him to a safer position, where the
Spanish battery and the sharpshooters could not locate them so readily.

If the fight had been hard, guarding the trenches was almost equally so.
The sun beat down fiercely, and the newly turned up earth made many of
the Rough Riders sick. Added to this, provisions were, as usual, slow in
arriving. Those in the trenches were kept there six hours, and then
relieved by the others who were farther to the rear.

"Running from the cover of brush to the trenches was no easy matter,"
says one Rough Rider who was there. "We had dug the trenches in a hurry,
and had no passages from the rear leading to them. All we could do was
to wait for a signal, and then rush, and when we did that, the Spaniards
would open a hot fire and keep it up for perhaps fifteen minutes. The
sun was enough to turn a man's brain, and more than one poor fellow
caught a fever there that proved fatal to him."

Through the entire day the firing continued, but no advances were made
upon either side. The Americans were waiting for reinforcements, and the
Spaniards were doing likewise. On our side a dynamite gun and two Colt's
guns were used, but with little success. But the Gatling guns proved
very effective, and caused a great loss to the enemy.

The city of Santiago lies on the northeast coast of a large bay of the
same name. This bay is shaped somewhat like a bottle, with a long neck
joining it to the Caribbean Sea.

In the harbor, at the time of the battles just described, the Spaniards
had a fleet of war-ships under the command of Admiral Cervera, an old
and able naval commander. In the fleet were four large cruisers and two
torpedo-boats. Three of the cruisers were of seven thousand tons burden
each, and all could make from eighteen to nineteen knots an hour. Each
carried a crew of about five hundred men, and all were well supplied
with guns and ammunition.

To keep this fleet "bottled up," our own navy had a fleet of its own
just outside of the harbor, where it had been stationed ever since
Admiral Cervera had been discovered within. The American fleet consisted
of the cruiser _Brooklyn_, which was Commodore Schley's flag-ship, the
battleships _Texas_, _Iowa_, _Indiana_, and _Oregon_ (the latter having
sailed all the way from the Pacific coast around Cape Horn to get into
the fight), and the converted yachts _Gloucester_ and _Vixen_. There
were also close at hand, but not near enough to get into the fight, the
cruiser _New York_, Admiral Sampson's flag-ship, and several other
vessels of lesser importance.

For a long time it had been thought that Cervera would try to escape
from the harbor, in which he could not be reached because of the strong
forts that protected the entrance. To bottle him up more effectively,
the Americans tried to block up the harbor entrance by sinking an old
iron steamboat, the _Merrimac_, in the channel. This heroic work was
undertaken by Lieutenant Hobson with a crew of seven daring men, but the
plan failed, for the _Merrimac_, instead of sinking where intended,
swung to one side of the main channel.

When it was reported to him that the Americans had taken the heights of
El Caney and San Juan and were strongly intrenched in their positions,
Admiral Cervera concluded that Santiago Bay might soon become too hot to
hold him. The capture of the city would be followed by the taking of the
forts at the harbor entrance, and then there would be nothing left for
him to do but to surrender.

San Juan and El Caney had been taken on Friday, and all day Saturday
occurred the shooting at long range, as already described. In the
meantime the war-ships outside of the harbor kept up a close watch on
the harbor entrance, lying well out during the day, but coming in closer
at night, and using their powerful search-lights from sundown to
sunrise.

Sunday dawned bright and clear, and for the time being all was quiet
both ashore and afloat. In the trenches the Rough Riders and other
soldiers were still on guard, doing what they could for their wounded,
and trying to get the rations which were still delayed.

Presently, those on board of the American fleet noticed a thick cloud of
smoke hanging over the harbor, coming from the funnels of the Spanish
war-ships. Then one of the enemy's vessels showed itself, quickly
followed by the others, and all turned westward, to escape up the coast.

"The enemy is escaping!" was the signal hoisted. And then one cannon
after another boomed out, giving the signal to all our ships in that
vicinity. The booming of the cannon was heard away eastward at Siboney,
whither Admiral Sampson had gone with his ship to confer with General
Shafter, and without delay the _New York_ raced madly back to get into
the fight that followed.

"Remember the _Maine!_" was the cry. "Down with the Spanish ships! Give
'em what Dewey did!" And this cry, "Give 'em what Dewey did!" was heard
on every hand.

The first vessel to go down was a torpedo-boat, sunk by the
_Gloucester_, and this was quickly followed by the sinking of the second
torpedo-boat. In the meantime the larger vessels were pouring in their
rain of steel upon the Spanish cruisers with deadly effect, knocking
great holes into the ships and killing scores of those on board.

The Spanish cruiser _Teresa_ was the first to succumb to the heavy
attack, and soon she turned in to shore to save her crew from drowning.
Then the _Oquendo_ caught fire in several places, and burning fiercely
from stem to stern, she, too, turned in.

But two ships were now left to Admiral Cervera, the _Vizcaya_ and the
_Colon_, and each had suffered much. Both were doing their best to get
out of reach of our guns and the marvellous accuracy of our gunners.

"Don't let 'em get away!" was the cry. "Give 'em what Dewey did!"
Forward went the war-ships of Uncle Sam, the powerful _Oregon_ leading,
with the _Brooklyn_ and _Texas_ not far behind. The rain of steel
continued, and at last, burning like her sister ships, the _Vizcaya_
turned shoreward, and many of her crew leaped overboard to save their
lives.

Only the _Colon_ now remained. She was still in fair condition, and it
was the Spaniards' ardent hope to save at least one ship from the dire
calamity that had overtaken them. But this was not to be, and after a
run of a few miles, during which the _Oregon_ and _Brooklyn_ continued
to pound her with shot and shell, the Spanish flag was lowered, and the
_Colon_ also ran ashore.

It was assuredly a mighty victory, a fitting mate to the great victory
won by Admiral Dewey, and when the news reached our country there was
such a Fourth of July celebration everywhere as will never be forgotten.
Twice had our navy met the ships of Spain, and each time we had sunk
every vessel without losing any of our own. More than this, while the
Spaniards had lost many men through shot and fire and drowning, our
total loss was but one man killed and a handful wounded.

The loss of her second fleet was a bitter blow to Spain, and many
predicted that the war would not continue much longer, and this
prediction proved correct.

During the rush made by the Rough Riders and our other soldiers, they
had gone right through several bodies of Spanish guerillas who were
secreted in the trees of the jungle. These guerillas, really lawless
fellows belonging to no particular command, could not get back into
Santiago because of the strong American guard at the intrenchments, and
consequently they contented themselves with remaining out of sight and
peppering our soldiers whenever the opportunity offered.

"This will not do," said Theodore Roosevelt. "They are shooting down our
men without giving them a chance to fire back. We'll have to get after
them." And without delay he sent out a detachment of the best Rough
Rider shots to be found. These sharpshooters searched the jungle back of
the intrenchments thoroughly, and as a result killed eleven of the
guerillas and wounded many more. After that the guerillas kept their
distance, satisfied that the Yankees could beat them at their own game.




CHAPTER XVII

DEVOTION OF THE ROUGH RIDERS TO THEODORE ROOSEVELT--HIS KINDNESS TO HIS
MEN--LAST OF THE FIGHTING--THE TRUCE AND TREATY OF PEACE


With the defeat of Admiral Cervera's fleet, a flag of truce was sent
into Santiago by the commander of our army, demanding the surrender of
the city. While these negotiations were pending, all fighting came to an
end, and the Rough Riders had but little to do outside of making
themselves comfortable and caring for the many who were getting sick
because of the lack of shelter and proper food. Food was now coming in
more rapidly, and soon all were supplied with tents and blankets. During
this time Theodore Roosevelt's personal baggage appeared, and he
celebrated the arrival by treating himself to a shave and a change of
linen, something impossible to do since the fighting had begun.

In his own writings, Mr. Roosevelt has spoken at great length of the
devotion which all of the Rough Riders displayed toward him. They were
anxious to wait on him at all hours of the day and night. Some would
pitch his tent, others would clean his weapons, and still others would
go hunting and bring in such game as the vicinity afforded. When ordered
to do anything, there was rarely a grumble. Those in the hospital bore
their sufferings with remarkable fortitude.

In return for this, Theodore Roosevelt did all he could to make life
less hard for those under him. The game that was brought to him he sent
to the hospital, that the wounded might have proper nourishment; and he
either went himself or sent somebody to the seacoast, to purchase food
which the commissary department possessed, but which, through lack of
organization, it was slow in distributing. When no shelter was to be
had, he slept on the ground with his men, and when they had to work on
the trenches at night, he was up and around superintending the labor.

"He was one of us, and he let us know it," was said by one of the Rough
Riders. "He ate the same food we did, and he was mighty good to the
sick and the wounded. He paid for lots of things out of his own pocket,
and I don't believe he has ever asked Uncle Sam to pay him back."

There was no telling how soon the truce would come to an end and
fighting would begin again, and night after night the Rough Riders were
kept on guard. There was a standing order that each fourth man should
keep awake while the others slept, and no matter how dark or rainy the
night, Theodore Roosevelt tramped around from one trench to another,
seeing to it that this order was obeyed. He also visited the
intrenchments of other commands, to compare them and make certain that
the grade of service was equally high among the Rough Riders. This shows
distinctly that he was a natural-born military commander.

The truce lasted a week, and while all operations were supposed to have
come to an end, both the Americans and the Spaniards spent the time in
strengthening their positions. At one time the Americans constructed a
fairly good defence, in which they placed two Gatling guns and two
automatic Colt guns, and this was named Fort Roosevelt, in honor of the
Rough Rider commander.

On the tenth of July the fighting began once more, and again the
batteries on both sides sent shot and shell into the camps of the enemy.
It was largely fighting at long range, and the only Rough Riders who
took part were those who manned the Colt's guns, and a small body of
sharpshooters stationed in a trench well to the front.

On the next day the Rough Riders were ordered northward, to guard the
road running from Santiago to El Caney. Here some fighting was in
progress, and the troopers expected to get into battle once more. But
the skirmish came to an end before they arrived, very much to their
disappointment.

Hardly had the Rough Riders settled in their new position than a storm
came up which proved to be the heaviest yet experienced during the
campaign. While Theodore Roosevelt was sleeping in his tent, the shelter
was blown down and away, and all of his personal effects were scattered
in the mud and wet. As best he could, he donned his clothing, saw to it
that his men were safe, and then betook himself to a kitchen tent,
where he finished the sleep of that night on a rude table recently taken
from an abandoned Spanish home in that vicinity.

"On that night it rained cats and dogs and hammer-handles," said one of
the soldiers afterward. "It was inky dark--darker than I have ever known
it to be anywhere on the plains. The water made a muddy pond of the
whole camp, and the trenches were half filled in no time. Everything was
blown helter-skelter by the furious wind, and some of our outfits we
never recovered. In the midst of the confusion some fellows reported
that the Spaniards were trying to break through our lines, but the
report was false,--the outsiders were starving Cubans who had come in
looking for shelter and something to eat. We gave them what we
could--which was precious little, for we had next to nothing
ourselves--and then got them to help us get things together again. One
of the Cubans was an old man, who could speak a little English. He said
he had lost two daughters and three grandchildren by starvation since
the war between Spain and Cuba had started. He himself was little more
than a skeleton."

That Theodore Roosevelt was warmhearted enough to look out for other
soldiers besides those of his own command is proven by what took place
on the day following the big storm. Next to the Rough Riders were
located a regiment of Illinois Volunteers. Because of the muddy roads
and swollen streams, they could get no rations, and scant as were their
own supplies, Colonel Roosevelt had the Rough Riders furnish them with
beans, coffee, and a few cases of hardtack, for which they were
extremely grateful. Later in the day the commander of the Rough Riders
also got to them part of a mule train of provisions.

The American position had been greatly strengthened, and many additional
troops were now at the front. It was felt that an advance upon Santiago
would surely result in victory, although the losses might be large. But
the Spaniards were no longer in a position to continue the struggle, and
on July 17 the city formally surrendered. The surrendered territory
covered many miles, and the Spanish soldiers to lay down their arms
numbered upward of twenty thousand.

There was great cheering in the American trenches when the glad news was
brought in, and soon Old Glory was planted on every height, while the
trumpets sounded out triumphantly. Possession of Santiago was immediate,
and in a few hours the Stars and Stripes floated from the flagstaff of
the civil government buildings. Our gallant army had won on the land
just as our gallant navy had won on the sea. The war had been, for us,
one of triumph from start to finish.

In foreign countries the news was received with an astonishment that can
scarcely be described. After Dewey's wonderful victory in Manila Bay,
many naval experts said that such a fight could not be duplicated, yet
it was duplicated two months later off Santiago Bay in a manner that
left no doubt of American supremacy on the sea. Then when it came to
fighting on land, our army was designated as "paper" soldiers, that is,
soldiers on paper or in name only, and it was said that their guns would
be found of little use against the Mausers of Spain. But this was
likewise false; and to-day the army and navy of the United States are
respected everywhere. And more than this, foreign powers have come to
our country for many of their war-ships, asking us to build and equip
them, and also asking us to make cannon and rifles for them.

While the war was on in Cuba, a part of the United States army under
General Miles was sent to Porto Rico, another island belonging to Spain.
Here the inhabitants hailed the Americans with delight, and the
resistance by the Spanish soldiers was only half-hearted.

With the downfall of the navy and Santiago, Spain knew not what to do
next, and gladly received the terms of peace offered by President
McKinley and his advisers. The terms were accepted on August 9, and thus
the short but sharp war came to a termination. By the treaty of peace
Cuba was given her liberty, and Porto Rico and the Philippines passed
into the possession of the United States.




CHAPTER XVIII

LAST DAYS IN CUBA--THE DEPARTURE FOR HOME--ARRIVAL AT MONTAUK--CARING
FOR THE SICK AND WOUNDED--PRESENTATION TO THEODORE ROOSEVELT BY HIS
MEN--MUSTERING-OUT OF THE ROUGH RIDERS


Four days after the surrender of Santiago the Rough Riders found
themselves in the hills four or five miles back from the intrenchments
they had occupied during the last fight. Other commands were scattered
in various directions, for to let them go into the wretched city would
have been out of the question. Santiago was dirty in the extreme; the
fever was there, and hundreds were on the verge of starvation.

It was a trying time for everybody, and equally so for Theodore
Roosevelt, who did all in his power, as before, to make his men
comfortable. When it did not rain, the sun came out fiercely, causing a
rapid evaporation that was thoroughly exhausting to the soldiers. The
locality was not a healthy one, and soon scores of Rough Riders and
others were down with malaria or fever. Doctors and surgeons were
scarce, and hospital accommodations were scanty, and again and again did
Colonel Roosevelt send down on his own account to the seacoast and to
Santiago for food and medicines of which his command were in dire need.
He was now colonel of the Rough Riders in reality, his promotion having
been granted to him just one week after the heroic charge up San Juan
Hill. His old colonel, Wood, was installed at Santiago as military
governor. This, for the time being, left Colonel Roosevelt in command of
the cavalry brigade, no small honor to one who had been, but a few
months before, a stranger to military duties.

During this time in camp, Theodore Roosevelt visited Santiago and the
forts at the entrance to the harbor, and with the pen of a skilled
author he has, in one of his books, given us vivid pictures of the
sights to be seen there at that time--the crooked streets with their
queer shops, the wretched inhabitants, the grim and frowning forts, all
hemmed in by the towering mountains and the sea. He likewise tells of
his trips to the mountains, and how his companions were usually
exhausted by the climbing done. For one who in his youth had been so
delicate, he stood the exposure remarkably well, for which he was
thankful.

For some time the authorities at Washington did not know what to do with
the troops in Cuba. It was suggested that they move up to higher ground,
or to another neighborhood. But General Shafter knew, and so did all of
the officers under him, that to keep the army in the island would only
mean more sickness and death.

"I will go to the general with a protest," said Colonel Roosevelt. And
he did so. Meanwhile the other head officers drew up a letter of
protest, and this was signed by all, including the commander of the
Rough Riders. In his own letter Roosevelt protested against the
treatment of his men in the matter of rations, clothing, and hospital
accommodations, and in the other letter, called by the officers a Round
Robin, there was a protest about remaining in Cuba longer, with the
fever getting worse every day. These letters were made public through
the press of the United States, with the result that the troops were
ordered home without further delay.

The Rough Riders left Cuba on August 7, just six weeks and a half after
landing. The time spent in the island had been short, but to many it
seemed an age. None were sorry to depart, although sad to think that
some of the sick had to be left behind.

The transport used this time was the _Miami_, and Mr. Roosevelt tells us
that, taken as a whole, the accommodations were better than they had
been on the _Yucatan_. But on the trip much trouble was had with some of
the stokers and engineers, who insisted upon drinking some liquor
smuggled aboard.

"I will not permit this," said Colonel Roosevelt. And he read the
disorderly ones a strong lecture and made them give up their liquor.
After that, as there was much grumbling, he set a guard; and that was
the end of that trouble.

The destination of the transport was Montauk, on the extreme eastern
shore of Long Island. The trip took nine days,--rather a dreary time to
those anxious to see their native land once more. When an anchorage was
gained, a gunboat came out to the transport with the welcome news that
Spain had agreed to our terms.

The sick had still to be cared for; yet, taken as a whole, the month
spent at the camp at Montauk was pleasant enough. Here Colonel Roosevelt
met that part of the regiment that had been left behind in Florida, and
all the stories of the fights had to be told over and over again.

"It was good to meet the rest of the regiment," says Mr. Roosevelt, in
his book. "They all felt dreadfully at not having been in Cuba. Of
course those who stayed had done their duty precisely as did those who
went." Which was true; yet, as he adds, those who had been left behind
could not be comforted.

Colonel Roosevelt was still in charge of the brigade while at Montauk,
and much of his time was taken up in getting out necessary reports, and
seeing to it that the entire camp was kept in first-class sanitary
condition.

"And he was up to the mark," said one of those who were there. "He
didn't allow the least bit of dirt, and everything had to be as
shipshape as if we were at West Point. And it was a good thing, too, for
it kept the sickness from spreading."

The sea-breeze is strong at Montauk, and this soon began to tell upon
all who were sick, putting in them new life and vigor. Here every
possible attention was given to those who were down, so that ere long
many were up again and as well as ever.

When he had a little time to himself, Theodore Roosevelt would gather a
few friends around him, and either go to the beach to bathe or go off on
a long horseback ride. War was to him a thing of the past, and he was
once more willing to become a private citizen as of old.

In those days the camp at Montauk was constantly crowded with visitors
from New York City and elsewhere, who poured in upon every train. All of
the soldiers who had been to Cuba were hailed as heroes, and had to tell
their stories many times.

"Every soldier had a crowd following him," said one private. "The
visitors wanted to know how we had fought, how we had been treated by
the government, how things looked in Cuba, and a hundred and one
other things. Most of the visitors, especially the ladies, wanted our
autographs, and I had to write mine as many as forty times a day. I
remember one of the men, a cowboy from Oklahoma, couldn't write, and he
got so upset over this that every time somebody asked him for his
autograph he would run away, saying he had forgotten to do something
that he had been ordered to do. When I and some chums went down to New
York to look around, all the folks stared at us, and many insisted on
shaking hands and treating."

[Illustration: COLONEL ROOSEVELT AT MONTAUK POINT. (_Photograph by Pach
Bros., New York._)]

The uniforms the Rough Riders had worn in Cuba were in rags, and many
had boarded the transport barefooted. The rags were saved as trophies of
the occasion, and many are still in existence.

At Camp Wykoff, as the place was called, there was a large hospital for
the sick, and to this many came to do what they could for the sufferers,
who were now given every possible attention. Among the visitors was Miss
Helen Gould, who had used her ample means for the benefit of the sick
all through the war, and who now continued to play the good Samaritan.
President McKinley and many of his cabinet likewise visited the camp,
and saw to it that everything in the hospital and out of it was as it
should be. The sick were presented with the best of fruits and other
things, and many ladies assisted the nurses by reading to the patients
and by writing letters for them.

Now that they had nothing to do in the shape of fighting, many of the
Rough Riders were anxious to get back to the wild West. Life in an
ordinary camp did not suit them, and at every available opportunity they
indulged in "horse play," working off many practical jokes upon each
other.

One day a report went the rounds that a member of another cavalry
organization could not master a certain horse that had been assigned to
him. The report was true, for the horse was what is called by ranchmen a
"bad bucker."

"I think Sergeant Darnell can master him," said Colonel Roosevelt.

He referred to one of the best "bronco busters" among the Rough Riders,
a man who had never yet allowed a steed to get the best of him.

"All right, let Darnell try him," said others. And a test was arranged
for the day following.

At that time Secretary of War Alger was in camp, and a great crowd of
visitors, military men and others, gathered before Colonel Roosevelt's
quarters to watch the contest. At the proper time the vicious horse was
brought forth, and watching his chance, Sergeant Darnell leaped upon his
back. Then came such a bucking, leaping, and prancing as many had never
witnessed before.

"He'll be killed!" cried many of the ladies. "The horse will have him
under in another moment." But such fears were groundless. Darnell knew
exactly what he was doing, and in the end the fiery steed had to give
in, completely conquered.

On the last Sunday in camp, Chaplain Brown delivered an impressive
sermon, to which all listened with grave attention. After he had
finished, Theodore Roosevelt spoke to the men in a feeling way.

"I told them how proud I was of them," he says. "But warned them not to
think that they could go back and rest on their laurels, bidding them
remember that though for ten days or so the world would be willing to
treat them as heroes, yet after that time they would find they would
have to get down to hard work just like anybody else, unless they were
willing to be regarded as worthless do-nothings." This was the best
possible advice, and it is believed that many of the soldiers profited
by it.

Before the men were mustered out, they treated their beloved commander
to a genuine surprise. They had had a fine bronze of a "Bronco Buster"
made, and this was presented to Colonel Roosevelt on behalf of the whole
regiment. It touched him deeply, and to-day this bronze is one of his
most highly prized gifts.

At last came news that the Rough Riders would be mustered out of the
United States service the next day. That evening a great celebration
took place, in which all of the men joined, each according to his own
notion of what a celebration should be. Large bonfires were lit, and
here some delivered speeches, the soldiers from the colleges sang, those
with Indian blood in them gave a characteristic dance, and cowboys and
ranchmen did "double-shuffles" and "cut up" as suited them.

On the morning of September 15, four months after the Rough Riders had
been organized, the colors were lowered in camp, the men were mustered
out, and officers and privates shook hands and said good-by.

"It was the greatest sight I ever saw," says one of the number. "Not
until that moment came did we realize what it meant to part with those
who had fought with us in battle and suffered the hardships of life in
the trenches. Strange friendships had been formed, some between those
who were very rich and very poor, and others between those who were well
educated and very ignorant. One man who was studying for a professional
life had as his particular chum a rough cowboy who had never spent six
months over his books. But the two had stood by each other and suffered,
and I really believe they were willing to lay down their lives for each
other.

"Many of the men could hardly bear to part with Colonel Roosevelt. He
had stuck by them through thick and thin, and they worshipped him. Some
shook hands half a dozen times, and some hardly dared to speak for fear
of breaking down. I never expect to see the match of that scene again."




CHAPTER XIX

NOMINATED FOR GOVERNOR OF NEW YORK--A ROUGH RIDER WAY OF
CAMPAIGNING--ELECTED GOVERNOR--IMPORTANT WORK AT ALBANY--THE HOMESTEAD
AT OYSTER BAY--CHOPPING DOWN A TREE FOR EXERCISE


The war with Spain was at an end, and Uncle Sam had now to turn his
attention to the Philippines, where for many months to come military
disturbances of a more or less serious nature were to take place.

Theodore Roosevelt might have remained in the army, and had he done so
there is no doubt but that he would have swiftly risen to a rank of
importance.

But the people of the State of New York willed otherwise.

"He is a great military man," they said. "But he was likewise a fine
Police Commissioner and a Civil Service Commissioner, fighting
continually for what was right and good. Let us make him our next
governor."

The convention that nominated Theodore Roosevelt for the highest office
in the Empire State met at Saratoga, September 27, 1898, just twelve
days after the Rough Riders were mustered out. At that time Frank S.
Black was governor of the state, having been elected two years before by
a large majority. The governor had many friends, and they said he
deserved another term.